Two Historicals, Two Contemporaries

So that I don’t get too mired in the past with my reading material, I like to alternate historical and contemporary novels. First, reviews of two historicals:

The Giver of Stars     Jojo Moyes     (2019)  I’m late to the parade of Jojo Moyes’s bestselling popular novels, but I blazed through this one. The fast-moving plot is drawn from the actual existence of a cadre of women in Depression-era Appalachia who rode on horseback to deliver library books to people living in isolated cabins, a project of the federally-funded WPA. In her fictional take, Moyes deposits an outsider into rural Kentucky—the English bride of a mine owner’s son—and tells the story mainly through this woman’s eyes. There’s small-town gossip, domestic violence, religious fervor, racial animosity, moonshinin’, patriarchy, friendship, union bustin’, political corruption, and some true love.

The Cloister     James Carroll     (2017)  In NYC, the Metropolitan Museum’s medieval art department is housed in The Cloisters, which resembles a medieval monastery. On a rainy day in 1950, a Catholic priest ducks into The Cloisters and meets a docent who is a Holocaust survivor from Paris. Before WWII, she worked at the Sorbonne with her father, researching the 12th-century philosopher-monk Peter Abelard’s opposition to the Catholic church’s anti-Semitism. Carroll’s novel pivots back and forth between the 12th century and 1950. You’ll settle in more easily if you know a little Latin and if you know about Abelard’s love affair with the philosopher-abbess Héloïse d’Argenteuil. Even without that knowledge, you’ll find both stories powerful.

Next, two contemporaries:

Groundskeeping     Lee Cole     (2022)  Owen and Alma are both aspiring writers in their late twenties who meet at a small college in Kentucky. He’s a groundskeeper, and she’s on a one-year writing fellowship. They fall into a fraught relationship that is made more difficult by issues of social class and privilege. I didn’t recognize most of the music that they listen to, but the writing here is very fine—complex plotting, deft character delineations, rich setting descriptions.

Joan is Okay     Weike Wang     (2022)  All of us know what’s going to happen in the intensive care units of hospitals in New York City in the spring of 2020. We know that ICU physicians like Joan are going to be in the thick of the COVID pandemic. But in 2019, Joan can’t predict this. She’s dealing instead with the expectations of her boss (who rewards her workaholism) as well as the expectations of her Chinese American family (who want her to get married and have kids). She also has a strangely intrusive neighbor and an oddball work colleague. Still, Joan is okay, even when COVID hits. This short novel packs a punch. And don’t miss my review of Wang’s previous novel, Chemistry.

Two Fiction + Two Nonfiction

First, two works of fiction, both about financiers:

Trust     Hernan Diaz     (2022)  Diaz explores the trustworthiness of narrative through four different takes on the same story, about a fictional early-twentieth-century Wall Street financier. First, a novella captures the style of Edith Wharton, then an unfinished autobiography reveals its author’s vanity and arrogance. A memoir by the autobiography’s ghost writer gives another perspective, and finally the diary of the financier’s wife provides a new twist to the tale. Diaz navigates these disparate genres with stylistic ease, as he asks, Whom do you trust to tell you the truth?

The Magnolia Palace     Fiona Davis     (2022)  I reviewed Davis’s 2016 novel, The Dollhouse, on this blog in 2017, and The Magnolia Palace is the fifth novel that Davis has churned out since then. Her signature formula includes an actual iconic building in New York City as the setting and two fictional young women, living decades apart, who are involved in a complicated mystery. The Magnolia Palace is a lightweight, entertaining romp, set in the Frick Collection, a fine art museum that was formerly the home of Henry Clay Frick’s family. The two women are models, one in 1919 and one in 1966. Brush up on your art history!

Next, two collections of essays:

These Precious Days     Ann Patchett     (2022) Patchett provides plenty of  insights into her family background and her fiction-writing process in these essays. (See my reviews of her novels Commonwealth and The Dutch House.) The title piece, and the longest, starts with Patchett reading Tom Hanks’s short story collection, Uncommon Type. She admires the book (as did I; see my review) and, through a series of coincidences, gets to know the actor and his assistant, Sooki Raphael. Sooki ends up as a long-term houseguest of Patchett and her husband at the beginning of the pandemic. Patchett writes a moving account of their unexpected and rewarding friendship.

Happy-Go-Lucky     David Sedaris     (2022)  For fans of David Sedaris (count me in), every new collection of his essays means a couple of evenings of sure-fire good reading, unveiling the vagaries of family relationships. (See my previous commentary on his body of work.) Happy-Go-Lucky focuses quite a bit on the last years of David’s nonagenarian father, Lou, and on the impact of the COVID pandemic. The stories are honest, touching, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes disturbing. There is simply no other essayist who is as irreverent and candid and downright funny as David Sedaris.

Sure It's [Fill in the Blank], But . . .

Sure it’s alternate history, but . . .

Rodham     Curtis Sittenfeld     (2020)  What if Hillary Rodham had not married Bill Clinton in 1975? This alternate version of Hillary’s life starts out hewing pretty closely to well-known facts—college at Wellesley, law school at Yale, where she meets Bill. But then it takes a different trajectory, with Hillary as an unmarried law professor and politician and Bill on another path also. Throughout, the portrayal of Hillary is, for me, totally believable, and the dialogue is especially realistic. Take a fun ride through the ”what ifs” with Rodham.

Sure, it’s time travel, but . . .

This Time Tomorrow     Emma Straub     (2022)  On the day that Alice turns forty, she’s reassessing her life goals—and getting very drunk. Unexpectedly, she’s transported back to her sixteenth birthday, in 1996. I don’t usually read time travel novels, but Alice is so endearing that I went with the premise. And Straub is writing a love letter to New York City as much as she’s exploring family bonds and the quandaries of aging.

Sure, it’s melodramatic, but . . .

When We Were Young     Richard Roper     (2021)  Two men who are turning thirty get together fourteen years after an acrimonious argument separated them. Joel is a successful TV comedy writer in London, with a glamorous actress as his girlfriend. Theo considers himself a failure, both in his career and in his relationships; he lives in a shed in his parents’ back yard. The melodrama and emotion are heavy here, but the insight into the hearts of these two young Brits is worth the read.

Sure, it’s got lots of tragedy, but . . .

Count the Ways     Joyce Maynard     (2021) 

The many sad and shocking events that punctuate Eleanor’s life are traced here from her childhood in the 1950s and 1960s up to nearly the present day. But I didn’t find this book depressing. Eleanor balances her career as an artist and children’s book author with her role as wife to her woodworker husband, Cam, and mother to their three children. Her musings on motherhood, in which she delights, touched me profoundly. The characters surrounding Eleanor are also deftly portrayed.

Fiction, Again

The Gravity of Birds     Tracy Guzeman     (2013)   An art history professor and an art authenticator in New York agree to search for missing works by a renowned painter and end up involved in a cross-country missing persons mystery. They discover that the two sisters depicted in the paintings had a troubled relationship with the painter thirty-five years in the past. I stayed up until 2 am to finish this poignant and complex novel.  Thanks to Cinda Hocking for the recommendation!

The Great Passion     James Runcie     (2022)   No, it’s not a love affair between two people but rather Johann Sebastian Bach’s “St Matthew Passion,” one of the greatest of all choral compositions, premiered in Leipzig in 1727. In this novel, the fictional Stefan Silbermann, as an adult, looks back on his year as a boy soprano and aspiring church organist studying with Bach. He narrates his experiences with the boisterous Bach household and with the brutal boarding school where he lives. Musicians should especially appreciate the details, but all fans of historical fiction should appreciate the portrayal of eighteenth-century Germany and of “The Big Guy,” JSB.

We Are the Brennans     Tracey Lange     (2021) Moving the plot along mostly through convincing dialog, Lange creates a vivid picture of the present-day Brennan family, pub owners in a town north of NYC. An estranged adult daughter comes home to recover after a serious car accident and gets retangled in family life, with some mystery and some romance enlivening things. The character names are odd, but the story is a winner. 

Whereabouts     Jhumpa Lahiri     (Written in Italian and translated by the author)            (2021)  Lahiri delivers a powerful if unconventional short novel, about an unnamed middle-aged single woman in an unnamed European city. Each of the 46 brief chapters is a precisely rendered, first-person vignette of some aspect of the woman’s daily life—she’s in her office or at the museum or on vacation or at the coffee bar. Altogether, the vignettes give the reader amazing insights into her personality and her life’s trajectory. 

The Kindest Lie     Nancy Johnson     (2021)  The racial tensions that trouble the US play out through the stories of two families in the months near the 2008 election of Barack Obama. Ruth Tuttle, a successful Black engineer, can’t move forward with her life in Chicago until she finds the baby whom she was forced to give up when she gave birth at age 17 in an industrial town in Indiana. Her search reconnects her with her family and with the family of a young white boy nicknamed Midnight. The author tackles difficult issues of race, class, poverty, and social justice forthrightly and eloquently.

French Braid     Anne Tyler     (2022)  Meet four generations of the Garrett family, from 1959 to 2020, mainly in Tyler’s favorite locale, Baltimore. The Garretts exemplify what families ideally do for one another: in the words of one character, “. . . ‘hide a few uncomfortable truths, allow a few self-deceptions.’” The family members are convincingly portrayed and their stories are memorable. Hang on through that first chapter, which seems slightly disjointed. This is a splendid book.

History and Mystery: Short Reviews

First, a few historical novels.  

Free Love     Tessa Hadley     (2022) You can rely on Hadley’s novels to unflinchingly probe the dynamics of modern British family life. In this one, she travels back to swinging 1967 London to observe the conventional Fischer family falling apart in the wake of the sexual revolution. The shocking liaisons and their aftermaths drive the plot, but I found myself lingering on the evocative metaphors in Hadley’s descriptive settings. Who knew that British weather could be so beautiful?

The Sense of an Ending     Julian Barnes     (2011)  Tony Webster, a retired Briton who is amicably divorced, receives an unusual legacy that brings to mind painful scenes from his time in secondary school and at university. This ruminative short novel about memory, regret, forgiveness, and revenge was made into a movie in 2017.

Violeta     Isabel Allende     (2022) Translated from the Spanish by Frances Riddle. The prolific Allende has been criticized in some reviews for lack of character development in Violeta. I don’t agree. Violeta Del Valle tells her captivating life story in first person, from her birth in 1920 during one pandemic to her death in 2020 during another. The backdrop is the political upheaval of this century in the history of an unnamed South American country that is very much like Chile. See also my review of Allende’s In the Midst of Winter.  

Next, some mysteries, one of which is a historical mystery and two of which take place at weddings! 

A Comedy of Terrors     Lindsey Davis     (2021)  I’ve reviewed the Flavia Albia mystery series as among my favorites, and this entry is no exception. Although the novels have more violence than I usually tolerate, the first-century Roman ambience is irresistible, the rapid-fire dialog brings the characters fully to life, and the plots will challenge the most sophisticated mystery reader. As an added treat, A Comedy of Terrors, set during the celebration of Saturnalia (the winter solstice), features the holiday revelries of private investigator Flavia Albia and her extended family.

The Guest List     Lucy Foley     (2020)  A British power couple are staging an elaborate wedding on a remote island off the coast of Ireland, but this is no rom-com. It’s a cleverly plotted murder mystery that unfolds with a see-sawing narrative from the standpoints of the wedding planner, the bride, the best man, the sole bridesmaid, a plus-one guest, and the groom.  

Destination Wedding     Aaron Stander     (2020) This is the eleventh of the Sheriff Ray Elkins mysteries set in the northwest of Michigan’s mitten. On the shore of Lake Michigan, severe weather causes havoc for the wealthy guests at a wedding and almost conceals a concurrent suspected murder and art theft. The local color can’t be beat, and the copyediting problems that marred previous titles in the series (as noted in my review) have been mostly resolved.

Just Fiction

A Town Called Solace     Mary Lawson     (2021)  Step back in time to 1972, and head to a small town in northern Ontario, Canada, for a tender story of loss, loneliness, and hope, told from the perspectives of three characters: a hospitalized elderly woman, an eight-year-old girl whose older sister has run away, and a thirty-something man facing divorce and joblessness.

Five Tuesdays in Winter     Lily King     (2021)  I usually prefer the expansiveness of the novel format, but each of these ten stories creates a universe of characters and life experiences. Settings range from New England to the North Sea, from the 1960s to the present. See also my review of King’s novel Writers and Lovers. 

Crossroads     Jonathan Franzen     (2021)  In 1971-72 Chicago, middle-aged clergyman Russ Hildebrandt and his wife and four children come under the microscope as they struggle with faith, sex, drugs, Vietnam, and rock ‘n’ roll for 580 detail-heavy pages. This is classic Franzen, with unforgettable characters, and it’s the first book of a projected trilogy.

Small Things Like These     Claire Keegan     (2021)  With prose reminiscent of the early work of James Joyce, Keegan’s novella fictionalizes a piece of the history of the Irish “laundries,” where unwed pregnant women were enslaved by the Catholic Church until 1996. In rural Ireland at Christmastime in 1985, a middle-aged family man stumbles upon evidence of such abuse at a local convent.

Fresh Water for Flowers     Valérie Perrin     Translated from the French by Hildegarde Serle     (2020)  This European bestseller is part mystery, part romance, part memento mori. Violette Toussaint, a cemetery keeper in a small town in Burgundy, provides informal grief counselling to mourners as she looks back on her own life and tries to fashion a future for herself. The translation is awkward at points, especially because of the British slang, but the meandering story is heartwarming.

Wish You Were Here     Jodi Picoult     (2021)  Are you ready for a novel set in New York City (and Galápagos) in 2020, right when the coronavirus pandemic breaks out? The societal details are all too familiar, but the story takes unexpected turns, yanking the reader along. The disjointedness of alternate realities reflects our times.

Fiction and Nonfiction: Brief Reviews

Every week, the fiction that I check out from the Ann Arbor District Library gets ruthlessly culled. By the time I’ve read twenty or thirty pages, I know if the story is too violent, the prose too banal, or the characters too obnoxious for my taste. Less than a quarter of my weekly haul ends up being reviewed on this website; reviews of three novels that passed my tests are below.

In this post I also offer three nonfiction titles. I read less nonfiction, and it’s usually in the categories of biography, memoir, cultural studies, or cooking. Here I’m branching out with a book on gardening, one of my passions. Happy reading!

Fiction

Matrix     Lauren Groff     (2021)     In the second half of the 12th century, in England, the bastard daughter of royalty is banished to an impoverished convent. Groff conjures up this life story for Marie de France, about whom very little is actually known—except that she is the author of highly influential surviving medieval poems. The constructed milieu of this novel is believable, the tale mesmerizing, the language incandescent. See also my review of Groff’s Fates and Furies.

The Other Bennet Sister     Janice Hadlow     (2020)  Plucking Mary, the middle of the five Bennet sisters, out of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, Hadlow imagines how her adult life might have played out. The probings of Mary’s emotional struggles are beautifully rendered, and tone is totally Austenesque. But you don’t need to be an Austen fan to enjoy this gentle, lovely story.

The Vanishing Half     Brit Bennett     (2020)  In this complex exploration of connectedness and concealment in late 20th-century America, light-skinned Black twins go their separate ways as teenagers. The twist here is that one twin decides to pass for white and marries a white man, while the other marries a Black man and remains within the Black community. Each has a daughter, and the paths of these cousins cross in unexpected ways.  

Nonfiction

Bloom’s Best Perennials and Grasses:  Expert Plant Choices and Dramatic Combinations for Year-Round Gardens     Adrian Bloom     (2010)  The title says it all, and the photos are magnificent. This is the book for the gardener who wants to move from ordinary garden-center plants to the next level of gardening, selecting specific varieties based on growing conditions and design preferences.

Hidden Valley Road:  Inside the Mind of an American Family     Robert Kolker     (2020)  Between 1945 and 1965, Don and Mimi Galvin produced twelve children, six of whom were eventually diagnosed as schizophrenic. This exhaustive chronicle of their family life in Colorado, against the backdrop of shifting treatments for schizophrenia, is both heartbreaking and riveting.

The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet     John Green     (2021)  These essays, adapted from the acclaimed podcast of the same title, explore and rate wildly diverse aspects of our geological era, the Anthropocene, including teddy bears, sunsets, Indianapolis, plague, and sycamore trees. John Green bares his soul with humor, intelligence, and compassion. Thanks to Vera Schwankl for recommending this extraordinary book!

More Reads for a Persistent Pandemic

Beheld TaraShea Nesbit (2020) The Mayflower passengers who founded the Plymouth Colony were not all religious dissenters. On the ship there were also indentured servants and craftspeople who did not hold with the puritanical ways of the leaders. Nesbit takes us inside the thoughts of two very different women of Plymouth, in the troubled year 1630. (Ignore the author’s failures in archaizing language.) 

A Rogue’s Company Allison Montclair (2021) First, read the previous two entries in the Sparks and Bainbridge series, reviewed here and here. Then dive into this one, which is another rollicking, intricately plotted mystery set in London immediately after World War II. The two protagonists run a staid marriage bureau but often end up in back alleys with desperate criminals.

The Last Garden in England Julia Kelly (2021) Three women interact with the elaborate fictional garden of Highbury House in three different time periods. In 1907 Venetia Smith designs the nontraditional landscape. In 1944, Beth Pedley is a farm worker—a land girl—during World War II. And in the present day, Emma Lovell is hired to restore the site to its long-ago glory. Several romances ensue in this pleasant novel.

My Kind of People Lisa Duffy (2020) Melodrama oozes off of every page of this novel, set in the present day on a fictional island off the coast of Boston. And you may protest that young architects and freelance journalists are really not as financially solvent as portrayed here. But I came to love the characters, especially Sky (a newly orphaned 10-year old girl), Leo (an architect, her unlikely guardian), and Maggie (a helpful neighbor, with her own troubles).    

The Children’s Book AS Byatt (2009) Sussex (and some London, Paris, Munich), 1895-1919. Socialists, anarchists, suffragists, libertines. Potters, silversmiths, museum keepers, puppeteers, poets, playwrights, scholars, physicians, tellers of dark fairy tales. An old-fashioned, languorous, discursive story with dozens of characters and lots of historical context.  

The Lincoln Highway Amor Towles (2021) Fans of Towles’ A Gentleman in Moscow, reviewed here, will find much of the same verve and strong character development in his new offering. In 1954, two young brothers set out on a road trip to find the mother who abandoned them, but they have to take many detours. The ending could have been stronger, but this one is still entertaining.  

Reads for a Persistent Pandemic

Well, the pandemic keeps resurging, and with many activities again restricted, I’m doing a lot of reading.

The Mission House Carys Davies (2020) In 2018 Davies took us to the early-nineteeth-century American frontier with her brilliantly plotted novel West (reviewed here). The Mission House is set in contemporary India and features more of Davies’ unconventional characters:  a disabled orphan, a barber who aspires to be a country-Western singer, and a depressive Brit taking a rest-cure. Don’t miss this one.

The Pull of the Stars     Emma Donoghue  (2020) If you can bear another pandemic story, The Pull of the Stars is the one. Julia Power is a nurse working in a maternity ward in Dublin during the 1918 flu pandemic. She contends not only with an invisible virus but also with lack of supplies, women oppressed by the strictures of the Catholic Church, and her own sexual awakening.

The Goldfinch Donna Tartt (2013) This winner of the Pulitzer Prize is a Bildungsroman, a mystery, a thriller, and a wild drug-fueled ride through a speculative alternate history of New York City. But you can read its nearly 800 pages solely for Tartt’s extraordinarily lush vocabulary and sympathetically drawn characters. I’ve finally caught up with my 2013 must-read list.

Beautiful World, Where Are You Sally Rooney (2021) We can all speculate whether the character of Alice, a bestselling novelist, shares personality traits with Rooney herself, but all the characters in this novel are deftly delineated. Many struggle with how personal fulfillment intersects with global trauma and strife. This is Rooney’s third exploration of the existential angst plaguing Generation Z; her Normal People (reviewed here) is another winner.

Busman’s Honeymoon Dorothy L Sayers (1937) I hadn’t read this Golden Age classic detective novel in decades, so I’d forgotten much of the plot and was once again surprised by its ingenuity. However, for fans of the romance between Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, the murder investigation is definitely secondary to the tender scenes between the honeymooners. (Note that in dialogue there are some ethnic stereotypes, common in this era, that are repugnant.)

Reads for a Waning Pandemic

Not by design, I’ve been reading quite a few novels about family dynamics. Here are some mini-reviews.

The Last Hundred Years Trilogy:  Some Luck, Early Warning, Golden Age Jane Smiley (2014, 2015) Hang in for more than 1300 pages in three volumes, to follow an Iowa farm family, the Langdons, through an American century, from 1920 to 2020. As you proceed at one year per chapter, refer to the family tree that’s included whenever you need to. Savor the Langdons’ good years, because Smiley’s political predictions for the years 2015 to 2020 are eerily accurate and pretty distressing. I’ve read this entire trilogy twice. If you don’t have time for all three books, at least read Some Luck, which is my favorite segment. 

Perfect Life Jessica Shattuck (2009) The lives of four friends intersect in the Boston area fifteen years after they met in college, with a plot that revolves around the question of what it means to be a family, biological and non-biological. This contemporary novel is good, but I like Shattuck’s historical novel, The Women in the Castle, better. See my review here.  

A Lie Someone Told You About Yourself Peter Ho Davies (2021) Ho Davies doesn’t pull any punches as he explores dark truths about fatherhood, marriage, abortion, and the raising of a high-needs child. The book might be autobiographical or it might be totally fiction—doesn’t really matter when the writing is this good.

Good Company     Cynthia d’Aprix Sweeney  (2020) The plot here is a little thin (woman finds evidence of husband’s affair and struggles with the knowledge), but the character development is excellent. The setting toggles between the New York theater world and the Los Angeles world of TV and movies.   

Mary Jane Jessica Anya Blau (2021) Take an absolutely hilarious look at 1975:  the music, the food, the clothing, the Zeitgeist.  A sweet, sheltered 14-year-old girl becomes a summer nanny in the unusual household of a psychiatrist who is treating a rock star recovering from addiction.

Reviews of some nonfiction titles are coming!

Pandemic Reads, Part Two

In my last post, I reviewed historical fiction and mysteries that I’ve read during the pandemic. I’d also like to recommend some non-mystery novels about contemporary life.

Monogamy    Sue Miller (2020) When the gregarious owner of an independent bookstore dies, his widow accidentally discovers his infidelity. Sue Miller explores the complex ties of marriage, family, friendship, and career with great subtlety.

Indelicacy    Amina Cain (2020) This short novel (almost a novella) tells the story of a young woman who is lifted out of poverty by marriage to a wealthy man. Although it seems that her dreams of having the leisure to become a writer have come true, the reality of her everyday life is quite different from her expectations.

Writers and Lovers    Lily King (2020) And here’s another woman with authorial ambitions: Casey, a 31-year-old server at a restaurant in Harvard Square who lives frugally and spends every spare moment writing a novel. She also meets some pretty wacky boyfriends. As a former server myself, I loved the restaurant scenes.

Christmas in Austin    Benjamin Markovits (2019) Three generations of the Essinger family gather in Texas for the holidays, and all the usual Christmas traditions and stresses become manifest. You may find yourself identifying with one of the fourteen members of this ensemble cast. (This book is a sequel to A Weekend in New York but stands alone just fine.)

28 Summers    Erin Hilderbrand (2020) For chick lit escapism, it doesn’t get better than Erin Hilderbrand. This offering borrows its structure from Bernard Slade’s Same Time, Next Year, with the two lovers meeting secretly each summer, starting in 1993, on Hilderbrand’s beloved Nantucket Island. You can take lots of breezy seaside vacations with them. I’ve also reviewed Hilderbrand’s Summer of ‘69.

The Geometry of Holding Hands    Alexander McCall Smith (2020)

This 13th entry in the Isabel Dalhousie series finds the Edinburgh-based philosopher again trying to solve ethical questions among her friends and family, all the while editing an academic journal. The interactions of Isabel and her husband, Jamie, are, as usual, unabashedly romantic. Check out my review of the series as a whole and of the 12th entry specifically.

Pandemic Reads, Part One

I signed off on my book review blog nearly a year ago (see my Blogger Reflections), but I’ve read so many good books since then that I felt obliged to check in with my faithful followers.

During the 2020-21 pandemic, I’ve gravitated toward two genres:  historical fiction and mysteries. Historical fiction carried me off to times other than my own, letting me escape the distress of current life in the United States. With a good mystery, I could get so wrapped up in untangling the plot that I could forget about case counts, mortality statistics, and vaccine data for a few hours.

Here are seven titles that I recommend:

Hamnet: A Novel of the Plague Maggie O’Farrell (2020) Yes, the title is kind of off-putting during our modern plague, but there’s not a lot of contagion in this fictional imagining of William Shakespeare’s domestic travails. The title character is William’s son, Hamnet, whose name is an alternate spelling of Hamlet; you can make connections to the play of that name. And the writing in this novel . . . it’s just magical. See also my review of O’Farrell’s This Must Be the Place.

Stuck in Manistique Dennis Cuesta (2018) Local color abounds in this well-done mystery set in a small city in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. There’s also the stranger-comes-into-town trope, as the main character, from Chicago, arrives to settle his aunt’s estate. Readers from the Mitten State should especially enjoy this one.

The Voyage of the Morning Light Marina Endicott (2020) In this epic tale set in 1912, two half-sisters sail through the South Pacific on a merchant ship. Canadian author Endicott doesn’t shy away from complex issues such as colonialism, bigotry, and religious arrogance, both in Micronesia and (through flashbacks) at a school for first-nations children in Canada. The scenes on shipboard are really brilliant.

Someone Alice McDermott (2013) McDermott can conjure up New York in the early-to-mid twentieth century better than any other author I know. In this novel, she gives us an intimate portrait of an Irish Catholic woman’s ordinary life, from youth to old age. The beauty here lies in the simplicity and the lovely language. See also my review of McDermott’s The Ninth Hour (2017).

A Royal Affair Allison Montclair (2020) In 1946 London, Iris Sparks and Gwendolyn Bainbridge of The Right Sort Marriage Bureau are hired to investigate a potential problem with the engagement of Princess Elizabeth to her prince. This lighthearted mystery is historical, so it hits both of my pandemic requirements! See also my review of the first Montclair novel with Iris and Gwendolyn, The Right Sort of Man (2019).

The Clergyman’s Wife Molly Greeley (2019) I usually steer clear of fan fiction, but this spinoff from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice stands on its own as a gentle historical novel of the Regency period—and the Austen links give it extra resonance. The wife of the title is Charlotte Collins (née Lucas), a friend of P&P’s Elizabeth Bennet who made what Elizabeth considered a disastrous marriage. See how this modern author imagines that Charlotte’s choice  played out.

Moonflower Murders Anthony Horowitz (2020) This offering from one of my favorite mystery writers is a long haul, because it includes within its covers a second complete mystery novel, supposedly written by someone else. Hang in there for the denouement. I’ve reviewed three previous Horowitz mysteries, Magpie Murders (2017), The Word is Murder (2018), and The Sentence is Death (2019). This guy is prolific, and his metafictional mastery is astounding.

More brief reviews of my pandemic reads will be posted in coming weeks!

Breezy Beach Reads, Part 1

For your summer reading pleasure, here are two novels set adjacent to the Atlantic Ocean.

A Hundred Summers     Beatriz Williams     (2013)

Beatriz Williams spins an old-school romance with the more explicit sex scenes of contemporary literature and comes up with a frothy confection of a chick-lit novel.

The story is set in Depression-era America, with chapters alternating between 1931 and 1938. In 1931, the sensible and lovely Lily Dane (student at Smith) meets the smart and handsome Nick Greenwald (student at Dartmouth) at a college football game. Although Nick gets his leg broken in that game, the two fall in love. Alas, the impediment to their lifelong happiness seems to be that Nick’s father is Jewish.

In the summer of 1938, the characters reunite at the fictional Seaview, Rhode Island, an oceanside retreat for the privileged few who are relatively unaffected by the 1929 economic crash. Lily’s best friend, the fashionable and reckless Budgie Byrne, is now married to Nick, while Lily is single, serving as a kind of nanny to her six-year-old sister, Kiki. Graham Pendleton, once a lover of Budgie’s, pursues Lily, who still pines for Nick.

Conundrums swirl. Why in the world would Nick have married Budgie, when they’re obviously unsuited to each other? Is Kiki really Lily’s sister or is she Lily and Nick’s love child? What’s going on with the Greenwald family business? What does Lily’s wacky and yet wise Aunt Julie know? How can these people drink so much alcohol and still stand on two feet? It all comes together with hurricane force in the final chapters, and an epilogue takes the story out to 1944.

Williams’ dialogue is sprightly and her plot moves right along, so even if you find that the characters verge on the stereotypical, I think you’ll enjoy this novel as you lounge on the sand under a summer sun. 

A Dangerous Collaboration     Deanna Raybourn     (2019)

If your beach-read tastes lean more toward classic mysteries, this fourth installment in the Veronica Speedwell Series might serve. I dipped into A Dangerous Collaboration without having read the previous novels, and I figured out the background pretty quickly.

Veronica is a lepidopterist and sleuth who is shockingly independent and sexually liberated for the year 1888 in Britain. Stoker Templeton-Vane plays opposite her as her love interest and partner in detection. He’s a trained physician, which comes in handy, and a hunk who would not be out of place in a bodice-ripper romance. Veronica and Stoker stoke up their unconsummated attraction to each other with slick banter as they try to unravel the mysterious disappearance of a bride on an island off the Cornish coast.

Much of the plot is typical of English house-party murder mysteries, with Gothic elements impishly pointed out by the author’s choice of a character name invoking Bram Stoker, author of the 1897 Dracula. You’ll encounter a castle with secret tunnels and hidey holes galore, a garden of poisonous plants, a spooky séance, and an array of suspects that includes family members, household staff, and local villagers. The denouement is suitably sensational and watery, though the reader is pretty sure that Veronica and Stoker will survive and solve the mystery.

And there are even fictional rare butterflies!

Happy surfing!

Two Novels Set in Detroit

I’m currently writing a novel set in 1960s Detroit, so I’ve been reading widely about this time and place. Two of my fiction finds are reviewed here. Watch for a future post on social histories of Detroit.

We Hope for Better Things     Erin Bartels     (2019)

Interracial relationships are the theme of Erin Bartels’ multi-century historical novel. In the present-day chapters, white Detroit journalist Elizabeth Balsam, following up on a lead about unpublished photos of the 1967 Detroit riots, ends up at her great-aunt Nora’s farmhouse in Lapeer, about an hour’s drive north of the city. Elizabeth slowly uncovers information about Nora’s romance with an African American man in the turbulent Detroit of the 1960s; readers get this backstory in separate chapters.  

Yet another layer of Elizabeth’s family history is revealed in chapters set in Lapeer in 1861, when the farmhouse was a stop for slaves fleeing on the Underground Railroad. I had to pay close attention to keep all the characters straight, but I appreciated all the local color and period detail in Bartels’ writing, as she places her characters at watershed moments of history, such as the June 1963 speech by Rev Martin Luther King, Jr, in Detroit. And that title? It’s from the motto for the city of Detroit: Speramus meliora; resurget cineribus. “We hope for better things; it will rise from the ashes.”

Beautiful Music      Michael Zadoorian     (2018)

If you’re familiar with the arcana of hard rock in the early 1970s (and I mean way beyond just MC5 and Iggy Pop), you’ll probably love this novel. That’s not my music, so I skimmed over the many references to bands and radio disc jockeys and album covers. I read the book instead for the touching story of a high school freshman at Redford High School, on Detroit’s far northwest side, in a period of increasing racial tension and violence in the city.

Danny Yzemski is a sweet, shy kid who’s bullied in school and beleaguered at home. His coming-of-age is aided by his discovery of the transformative power of music. He demonstrates that if you find the tracks that speak to you, the music can make all the difference in your survival. One chapter is aptly titled “Music Soothes the Savage Brain.” The detailed descriptions of Danny’s neighborhood along the Grand River corridor—the routes he took, the stores he frequented—re-create the era precisely. Even the breakfast cereals that Danny eats are authentic to the period. For vintage Detroit flavor, tune in to Beautiful Music.

Click here for a radio interview with author Michael Zadoorian.

1947 in the US and the UK: 2 Novels

By chance, I picked up from my library two historical novels set in the same year, 1947. In the immediate aftermath of the devastation of World War II, ordinary people on both sides of the Atlantic are trying to get on with their lives. 

The Stars Are Fire     Anita Shreve     (2017)

In 1947 coastal Maine, an extreme drought contributed to October wildfires that devastated nine small towns and left 2500 people homeless. Into this historical setting, Anita Shreve places a fictional young wife and mother, Grace Holland. Grace’s husband, Gene, joins a group of volunteers trying to fight the fires. Meanwhile, Grace is left to save herself, her infant, and her toddler by crouching with them for hours in shallow water at the ocean’s edge. As much of an ordeal as this is, Grace’s life after the fire poses even more challenges, since she finds herself without a house or any means of support. Kindly friends in a neighboring town take in Grace and her children, while she finds reserves of courage that she didn’t know she had.

There’s some melodrama in this novel, especially in several farfetched plot coincidences. And I was somewhat disappointed by the lack of full development of the character of Gene Holland. The Holland marriage, as it’s depicted in the months before the fires, is not a happy one, and Gene seems to suffer from depression. Shreve mentions that he served in World War II, so maybe he suffers from PTSD (“battle fatigue” in WWII parlance), but this aspect of his personality isn’t explored, so Gene serves primarily as a foil to Grace.  

On balance, however, the positives in this novel outweighed the negatives for me. A strong female lead character makes bold life choices in the face of terrible circumstances, and she’s surrounded by other distinctive female characters. The post-WWII American household is evoked well, right down to the wringer washers.  

The Gown: A Novel of the Royal Wedding     Jennifer Robson     (2019)

In 1947 London, the severe rationing of the war years is still in effect, and many Londoners are mourning the loss of loved ones, both on the battlefields and in the Blitz. Then the wonderful, cheering announcement comes: Princess Elizabeth (whom we know now as Queen Elizabeth II) is engaged to marry Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten (now Prince Philip). The fashion house of Norman Hartnell is commissioned to make the princess’s wedding gown, which is to be embellished with elaborate appliques and thousands of tiny jewels. These are the historical facts around which novelist Jennifer Robson imagines the lives of two of the working-class women employed as embroiderers by Hartnell—Englishwoman Ann Hughes and a French immigrant who survived Nazi persecution, Miriam Dassin.  

The tale of Ann and Miriam is enlivened by interspersed chapters from the 2016 life of the granddaughter of Ann Hughes, Heather Mackenzie, who lives in Toronto, Canada. Heather inherits from her grandmother a box of exquisite embroideries and an old photo of Ann and Miriam. Researching images that she finds online, Heather discovers that the fabrics look very much like the 1947 wedding gown of Princess Elizabeth, and she travels to London to get some answers. Why did Ann never speak about her stitching on this famous gown? Why did she emigrate to Canada? Who were Ann’s co-workers? What was it like to live in grim post-war London and yet spend your working days sewing fabulous materials for the British royal family? Heather unravels these mysteries from her present-day information, while readers gradually learn the facts from 1947.  

You do not have to know anything about embroidery (I certainly don’t) to appreciate the artistry being described by Robson. I kept turning back to the cover of the book, with its photo from the 1947 wedding of Elizabeth and Philip, to visualize that gown. And with Robson’s help I could easily picture Ann sitting by the wireless, eating gristly meat scraps, her slippers having been warmed in the oven because there was no coal for a fire on a bitter winter night. There’s romance in The Gown, and there’s exploitation, revenge, friendship, despair, and triumph.    

PS—For another novel set right after World War II, try The Women in the Castle by Jessica Shattuck, reviewed here.  

The Gilded Age: 2 Novels

Life in the United States today has many elements of the Gilded Age of the late 19th century, when the concentration of wealth in a tiny class of industrialists left many Americans in hopeless poverty. The era was not golden for most people but rather characterized by fake gilding. In this post, I review two recent novels set in the Gilded Age.  

A Well-Behaved Woman: A Novel of the Vanderbilts     Therese Anne Fowler     (2018) 

New York City in the Gilded Age is the setting for this novel that seeks to reconstruct the inner life of the historical Alva Smith Vanderbilt Belmont. Alva is living in genteel poverty with her three sisters and their dying father when she captures the attention of William K Vanderbilt of New York City and marries him in 1875. The Vanderbilt family has made unimaginable millions in railroads but is shut out of the New York social scene by old-money families such as the Astors. Alva is determined to crash the gates. She commissions and helps design spectacular (and gaudily ornate) homes, hosts extravagant balls, travels the world, and eventually finds social acceptance. Yet, according to this fictionalization, she’s never happy in her marriage to William.  

Keep in mind that $1 million in the 1880s would be about $25 million today, so the Vanderbilts were the one-percenters of their era. It’s hard to sympathize with their discontents as they guzzle the champagne, but Alva has a few redeeming qualities. She takes on charitable causes and later in life becomes an advocate for women’s suffrage. The focus of this novel, however, is on Alva’s family and social interactions, from her young adulthood through her middle age. I couldn’t help rooting for her to dump the contemptible William, which she finally does with a scandal-generating divorce in 1895.  

The Lake on Fire     Rosellen Brown     (2018) 

Like A Well-Behaved Woman, reviewed above, The Lake on Fire is a kind of Cinderella tale, featuring a young, impoverished woman who marries a wealthy man. But in this historical novel the woman is purely fictional, not based on a real person, and the Cinderella story has a number of twists. 

Chaya-Libbe Shaderowsky is a Jewish immigrant from Russia to rural Wisconsin who flees the matchmaking ploys of her family in 1891, running away to Chicago. Her younger brother Asher, a prodigy in both learning and petty theft, tags along with her. He roams the dangerous streets of the city while Chaya works in a sweat shop, rolling tobacco into cigars. Chaya’s  chance encounter with a wealthy socialist, Gregory Stillman, leads to romance. But Chaya is hesitant to follow the happily-ever-after path of the typical romance heroine. She tells her landlady, who encourages the match, “’He doesn’t love me for myself, he loves me for everything I don’t have. He hasn’t known anyone who’s as different from him as I am.’” (134) Chaya poses rhetorical questions for herself: “Is every life a fabric of compromises, then? Warp what you love, weft what you must tolerate, an imperfect weave, however strong and lovely it might look?”  (219) 

The city of Chicago becomes one of the central characters in this novel, and it’s lovingly described, even by those who live in its most sordid quarters: “She [Chaya] knew every inflection of Chicago dawn, different in each season—cool purple turning gold; tranced a dull fog-gray so many days, locked under cloud, or pearly with snow about to let down as if the sky were a trapdoor that silently, invisibly opened.”  (229) 

I visit Chicago fairly often, so I have a good sense of the street grid and of the strong presence of Lake Michigan, whose winds gust their way through the city. The layout of downtown Chicago in the early 1890s is similar to the layout today. From Rosellen Brown’s depiction, I could visualize the magnificent but temporarily constructed Columbian Exposition (World’s Fair) of 1893, the site of some of the action in this novel. And the introduction into the narrative of the historical Jane Addams of Hull House fame did not seem forced at all.  

If you’re looking for a Gilded Age novel that depicts both ends of the money spectrum, read The Lake on Fire. If you’re fascinated with the history of the rich and powerful of New York City, try A Well-Behaved Woman.

Short Stories & Essays: 2 Reviews

Calypso     David Sedaris     (2018)

Any book of essays and stories by David Sedaris is guaranteed to elicit out-loud guffaws from me as I burn through the pages. Calypso is no exception, even though several of the pieces in this collection center on the 2013 suicide of Sedaris’s sister Tiffany. Sedaris depicts himself, his four surviving siblings, and his elderly father as truly grieved by the loss of Tiffany. But they carry on, recalling their decades of interactions with Tiffany in raw spurts that are sometimes amusing and sometimes downright sad. “Memory aside, the negative just makes for a better story . . . Happiness is harder to put into words. It’s also harder to source, much more mysterious than anger or sorrow, which come to me promptly, whenever I summon them, and remain long after I’ve begged them to leave.” (91-92)

Over the years, Sedaris has lived in several cities in the United States and in France. He currently resides with his long-term boyfriend, the visual artist Hugh Hamrick, in a renovated sixteenth-century house in the south of England. Incidents set in this home and in the surrounding countryside display Sedaris’s acute sense of cultural nuance. If you’ve never read Sedaris before, be warned that he’s an inveterate trash collector—as in self-appointed roadside litter gleaner—who describes vividly the sordid garbage that he picks up. He’s also a prolific writer, whose other books are reviewed in my overview of his work.

Cockfosters     Helen Simpson     (2015)  

Reviewers of this book of short stories set in contemporary England have pointed to the theme of aging and the observations of characters, middle-aged and beyond, who have a trove of wisdom as well as a sense of losing a grasp on life. This is certainly one theme, but another theme, trenchantly pursued, is women’s role in society and in the home. Each story is named for a place that figures either directly or tangentially in the action. In the title story, two old friends travel by train to Cockfosters station, the end of the line, to retrieve a pair of eyeglasses that one of them has left behind. Each stop along the way brings up discussion of evolving British culture. In the story “Arizona,” a woman receiving an acupuncture treatment has a wide-ranging conversation with her acupuncturist, including a comparison of menopause to the state of Arizona. Most of the stories are brief and pointed; Simpson is especially adept with hyperbolic satire, as in “Erewhon” and “Moscow.” 

Only one story, “Berlin,” left me flat. In it, a husband and wife are reluctant audience members for a multi-day performance of Wagner’s Ring cycle. Apparently, the two are sorting out whether they want to stay together, but there is little discussion of their troubles. Instead, readers  get interminable descriptions of the opera action. If I was supposed to match this action to the couple’s experiences, I missed the boat. I may have been hampered here by my utter contempt for Wagnerian opera.  

Books in Brief, Part 6

In this post I offer reviews of three novels that are nothing like each other.

The Gunners     Rebecca Kauffman     (2018)

At age 30, Mikey’s vision is rapidly deteriorating from early-onset macular degeneration. He works as a maintenance person at a factory in small-town America, where it can be hard to make new friends. And he has a strained relationship with his father, who lives nearby. Back in childhood, Mikey had a circle of friends who called themselves “The Gunners.” They were misfit kids, most with difficult family situations, who met secretly in an abandoned house to help each other navigate growing up. The Gunners separated from each other when one member, Sally, suddenly deserted the group in high school, and four of the six Gunners left town to seek their careers elsewhere. The loner Mikey reconnects with the Gunners when Sally dies unexpectedly. As the five remaining friends gather together for Sally’s funeral, readers can assess each person and view all their interactions. Alice, for instance, may seem too loud-mouthed and pushy, but she’s also incredibly loyal. Many secrets from the past are revealed as friendships are re-established.

Kauffman’s novel is touching in a simple and straightforward way. Her sentences tend to be short, declarative, and matter-of-fact, but underneath the language she creates a deep pool of emotion. The Gunners delves into the many facets of friendship—including the potential impediments to its endurance—and leaves readers with some assurance that the world can be a more decent place if you have true friends.

The House of Broken Angels     Luis Alberto Urrea     (2018)

Summon up your high-school Spanish or open an online dictionary as you drop in on the de la Cruz family in San Diego. The patriarch, Big Angel, is in the terminal stage of cancer when his near-centenarian mother dies. Big Angel schedules her funeral the day before his own birthday party, so that distant family members (including Big Angel’s younger half-brother, Little Angel) can come for both events. Big Angel is the only one who knows for certain that he won’t live to a birthday after this one. The novel unfolds over the two-day weekend of the funeral and then the birthday party, with a number of flashbacks to previous decades and to cross-border adventures through the memories of the characters. Forget any stereotypes of Mexican Americans that you may have: Big Angel, for example, is a retired IT professional, and Little Angel is a university professor.

The dialogue in The House of Broken Angels is lively and realistic, though I did get somewhat lost in the scenes with younger family members speaking in street jargon that mixes English and Spanish freely. Bestselling author Urrea describes this big, heterogeneous family lovingly but without blinders. Readers will encounter flirtation, adultery, loving spouses, crime, successful careers, kindness, cruelty, anger, happiness, and the daily give-and-take of life. The de la Cruz family is Mexican American, but they could be a family of any ethnicity in the United States of the early twenty-first century. Be sure to read the Author’s Note at the end of the novel to learn how Urrea drew on some of his own family experiences in crafting The House of Broken Angels.

The Quiet Side of Passion     Alexander McCall Smith     (2018)

This twelfth volume in the series of Isabel Dalhousie novels is another mellow trip to Edinburgh, a city with exquisite natural beauty, a strong link to its history, and an assembly of odd characters. In The Quiet Side of Passion author McCall Smith revisits the familiar theme of Isabel’s habitual meddlesomeness. Isabel can’t help but get involved in a case of doubtful paternity in a family she meets at her older son’s nursery school. She also engages in unwise arguments with her niece Cat’s new boyfriend. I was cringing as Isabel launched into spirited debates, with a man she’d just met, on the merits of hunting, tattoos, and other controversial subjects. Isabel is dedicated to truth-telling and is constitutionally unable to withhold her opinions. “That was the trouble with being a philosopher, she sometimes told herself; you argued points that did not always need to be argued.” (96) Isabel is not only a philosopher and not only the editor of The Journal of Applied Ethics, but also the wife of the handsome musician Jamie, the mother of a toddler and a baby, and the owner of a large house that needs upkeep. A significant portion of The Quiet Side of Passion is about Isabel’s attempts to employ people to help her with her daily tasks. Alas, for all her intellectual achievements, Isabel has few skills in hiring or in personnel supervision, and the results are amusing. Fans of the McCall Smith novels will want to follow Isabel’s latest adventure. Readers who aren’t familiar with the series will get enough background from this novel to appreciate the interactions of the key characters.

Nonfiction & Fiction by Russo

Elsewhere: A Memoir     Richard Russo     (2012)

That Old Cape Magic     Richard Russo     (2009)

The Destiny Thief:  Essays on Writers, Writing and Life     Richard Russo     (2018)

Richard Russo’s 2001 novel Empire Falls (which won the Pulitzer Prize) and most of his other novels are set in decaying industrial towns peopled by rough-and-tumble strugglers. It’s no secret that in his fiction Russo drew on his experiences growing up in Gloversville, in upstate New York, which by the 1960s was severely polluted, from the byproducts of the manufacture of leather gloves, and poverty stricken, since the glove industry had moved to India and China.

When I ran across this memoir by Russo, I thought he might reveal how his novels are linked to his own biography. Elsewhere does provide some clues for avid Russo readers, but it’s primarily the story of Russo’s relationship with his mother, who raised him on her own after her divorce from his father when Richard was a small child. Jean Russo was smart, hardworking, attractive, sexy, fashionable, controlling, manipulative, selfish, explosive, confused, and unhappy most of the time. Richard loved her fiercely and tried for decades to relieve her sadnesses. Only after her death, in her mid-eighties, did he realize that she likely had a serious mental health condition that was never diagnosed or treated.

The narrative is somewhat uneven, as memoir can be, but Elsewhere is a touching portrait of a tormented woman. I kept looking back at the photos of Russo and his mother on the cover of the book, feeling as if I knew these two people personally.

For a glimpse into how Russo’s mother may have influenced his fiction, try That Old Cape Magic, a 2009 novel that’s one of his gentlest narratives—a kind of meditation on relationships (successful, failed, failing, blissful, doomed, redeemable). Griffin, the middle-aged protagonist, attends two weddings, a year apart. The first wedding takes place on Cape Cod, and it stirs up in his memory the childhood vacations that he spent there with his parents, who were escaping their academic jobs in the hated Midwest. Griffin is trying to come to terms with his parents’ unhappy marriage, especially since he’s carrying his father’s ashes in the trunk of his car, and since his own marriage is not so solid. Griffin’s mother, long divorced from his late father, phones him constantly in this story, and her voice sounds similar, in tone and level of sarcasm, to the voice that author Russo gives to his own mother in his memoir. 

For more details on Russo’s writing process, pick up his 2018 book, The Destiny Thief, a collection of nine essays, some of which have been previously published. I’d recommend skipping the essay on The Pickwick Papers unless you’re a serious fan of Charles Dickens. But the essay “Getting Good” has valuable advice for aspiring writers, particularly on the controversial issue of digital versus print publication. The piece titled “What Frogs Think: A Defense of Omniscience” is a brilliant analysis of the function of narrative voice in fiction, with examples from Russo’s work and from the writing of others, based on his years of teaching in writing programs across the country and around the world.

In another vein, “Imagining Jenny” is an emotional account of how a writer friend of Russo’s underwent gender reassignment surgery. All in all, this collection is pure Russo—sardonic, funny, and smart.