Some great novels are painterly, and we sink into them like a warm bath, lost in a wholly different time and place. Others are hair-on-fire page-turners that leave us unable to do one single thing until the book is done. Lent has managed to combine both kinds into one brilliant work, creating tangible characters and a setting that is nearly palpable as well. My thanks to Bloomsbury Publishers and Net Galley for the DRC. The book will be released in early April 2015. The novel opens with a scene of horrible violence; think of The Shawshank Redemption, or of Deliverance. Then we walk the string back to see whence it all came, and we see it from a variety of perspectives. Only then can we move forward to the conclusion. Malcolm Hopeton has fought in the American Civil War, and refused to buy his way out of his duty to the Union; when he was wounded in action, he could have gone home, but chose to stay and stamp out the Confederate threat instead. Had he known what was happening at home, he’d have chosen differently. Witness to the violence at Hopeton’s farm and all that preceded it is Harlan Davis. Harlan has been there since the death of his parents, first as orphan helping out to earn his keep, and then later as hired man. In fact, once the other players are dead or in jail, Harlan is the only one who has seen absolutely everything…and he isn’t talking. August Swartout, the widowed farmer who has hired Harlan’s sister as a housekeeper since the death of his wife, sees it as his Christian duty to bring Harlan back to his place after the dust has settled. He tries to do the right thing, but life is complex, and sometimes that choice can be fraught with little traps and riddles. Ultimately, A Slant of Light is about integrity, honesty, and loyalty. Ask Harlan. He knows. He may not say much, though. I was interested to learn that “The Friend” refers not to Quakers, but to a religious offshoot that took root during this time period. It’s an interesting historical tidbit, along with a great many other details that appear to drop into the story as naturally as can be, yet had to require meticulous research before it could be written. I have written over 700 reviews between one place and another, and this is the first time I have ever said that a book would be a good choice for a book club. I kept finding myself with questions and no one to discuss them with. It’s a fascinating story, and the ambiguity within makes it all the more so. Get it in hard cover, paperback, digitally; get it in a brick and mortar bookstore, order it online, or seek it out at a library; but if you like strong historical fiction, you have to read this book. Tautly worded, yet lushly descriptive; brilliant.
Category Archives: history
At the Water’s Edge, by Sara Gruen *****
By the author of Water for Elephants comes a gripping tale of cowardice,deception, love, and heroism. My great thanks go to Net Galley and Random House for the DRC. It was a quick read and a great deal of fun.
The setting: World War II, primarily on a remote Scottish island. The story: three spoiled, wealthy, entitled brats misbehave publicly and are sent away by their chagrined parents. Since their allowance has been cut and they have to get gone anyway, they decide it might be just the thing to track down the Loch Ness Monster; not only will it be heaps of fun, but Father will be so pleased. He always wanted proof it existed! And what war? When one is wealthy enough, one cannot possibly be in danger! Just haul out the cash and start bribing others. Nothing to it, really!
Now we’re cooking. We’re on a remote Scottish island after endless seasickness aboard a ship that is constantly fired upon by u-boats. We have a crumbling castle; a Scottish warrior; a fainting damsel; a fiendish conspiracy; several working class heroes of both genders; a love story; and of course, there’s the loch! Get your gum boots ready; it’s soggy out there. Toss in a dash of magical realism, and we’re all set.
Gruen does a wonderful job developing Maddie Hyde, our protagonist, who receives more than one wake-up call whilst she is marooned on this island in the middle of a war that is now real and present. The treatment of husband Ellis and pal Hank is perfect; the writer is subtle, but not so subtle that we miss what’s happening. Angus is such a magnificent character that I found myself wondering what actor ought to play him when the movie comes out.
So I absolutely forbid you to regard this book as Water for Sea Monsters! No, no, no.
Gruen’s wonderful nugget will be released at the end of March 2015, just in time for spring break. If you’re going to be somewhere warm, it’s the perfect beach read. If you’ll be at home or in a cozy cabin watching the rain pound down, it’s the perfect curl-up-by-the-fire book.
Your reviewer isn’t usually fond of love stories, but for Sara Gruen, an exception will always be made. A must-read!
Wayfaring Stranger: A Novel, by James Lee Burke *****
This reviewer has long been in awe of James Lee Burke’s poetic lyricism and his ability to weave together complex story elements so that they segue together at the novel’s end in a miraculous yet entirely credible manner. At times the author hints at magical realism, but the buck always ends right on solid ground. I wouldn’t care to see it any other way.
This is his most recent release, but I didn’t receive an ARC for this; I got it for Christmas. It was perched at the top of my wish list, and rightly so. Take Burke’s capacity to spin great fiction—here it is a blend of historical and detective fiction—and add to it his absolute disillusionment with American capitalism, in particular with regard to oil companies, and with the cops who favor the elite and shaft the poor, and he’s talking my kind of talk.
The cherry on the sundae? This man is old enough to be your grandfather, most likely, yet he has labeled this book Weldon Holland #1. That’s right, it’s the beginning of a new series.
I love it.
Our story commences in the dust bowl, in the midst of a worldwide depression. Two badass youngsters named Bonnie and Clyde have shot up the South. Burke sends them across the Holland family property at the outset, but they disappear and the story continues. I was momentarily confused, because I had heard that this novel was about Bonnie and Clyde. Now that I’ve read it I can tell you honestly that it isn’t, but it is.
Weldon Holland grows up and fights during World War II; he rescues a starving woman from the rubble of a concentration camp, and he falls in love with her. They are married, and when he comes home, he brings her with him. It is a miracle that he makes it back alive, given the incompetent leadership of his platoon. And yet, that same arrogant, self-absorbed son of a bitch that nearly got him killed ends up funding the pipeline that Weldon and his war buddy and business partner, Hershel start up. Sometimes life bites you in the ass and comes back for seconds, and this is one such instance.
“When you live in a democracy, there are certain things you believe will never happen to you. Then a day comes when the blindfold is removed and you discover the harsh nature of life at the bottom of the food chain.”
Time and again, those with wealth and power find ways to insult and ignore people in whose footprints they are not fit to walk. When they do things that are morally wrong, they become inaccessible rather than own up to their misdeeds. When they absolutely must discuss these things, they take the passive voice. It’s the same one mass killers use to address their victims’ families in a court of law after their lawyer tells them that an apology may make a difference in their sentencing. They never say they did things; things happened.
And Bonnie and Clyde? What of those two angry young people that the sheriff never intended to even try to arrest rather than kill? How do they fit into this more contemporary tale?
I think the answer is that they become a metaphor of sorts; it’s entirely possible that their foolishness was just their way of “getting even for the rest of us.”
When I write reviews, I generally do so quickly and easily. It’s not usually a hard thing to do. Yet in this case, I’ve stewed about this book for three days since I finished reading it, and I am still not satisfied that I have done it justice.
I guess that’s the thing about magically realistic literature; it has to be read to be understood.
You just have to read it. Pay for the book. Pay for it in hard cover. You won’t be sorry.
The Burying Ground, by Janet Kellough ****
This is the fourth book in Kellough’s Thaddeus Lewis series, but it was brand new to me, and I was able to follow the story quite well as a stand-alone. My thanks go to Net Galley and Dundurn Group for the DRC. This book comes out in early August, and I will run my review a second time on my blog then to remind readers that it’s available.
Kellough has merged two enjoyable genres, mystery or detective fiction and historical fiction, and added a splash of social justice–the sort that slides into the story neatly and without preaching. Lots of different story threads eventually braid together elegantly into an ending that satisfies deeply.
The settings are Montreal close to the time of the Industrial Revolution, and outside of Montreal in a village called Yorke. Our protagonists are Thaddeus Lewis, a Methodist Episcopal preacher who travels the circuit, and his son Luke, a physician who serves as the junior partner to a taciturn elderly doctor named Christie. At times Luke has his hands full; there’s a typhus outbreak, but it seems to be a mystery in itself why some entire households are spared while others are consumed and nearly none left standing. But no worries; that is not our only mystery, nor our chief one.
The primary mystery is that of the grave robbers. The sexton for the local cemetery, The Burying Ground, Morgan Spicer, has interrupted robbers who dig up the interred, but leave the body. Yet there are also some caskets that have two bodies in them. What’s up with that? An invigorating combination of red herrings mixed with interesting historical minutiae spice up the tale as it unfolds.
What’s up with the overly eager woman who resorts to a form of blackmail to lure eligible bachelors into her parlor? Why isn’t the local law protecting local Black folk from marauding American slave catchers looking to put them on the auction block back in the States?
Kellough tosses it up all up and keeps us on our toes. And now that I have enjoyed her work, I will look for opportunities to read the other three novels in her series.
Watch for this title, on sale this summer.
Alexander’s Bridge, by Willa Cather ****
Your reviewer is presently finishing up a couple of ARC’s; meanwhile, let’s look at a classic that has kept its appeal over the years. There’s nobody who writes like Willa Cather.
Alexander is an architect who designs bridges. Right now he has two problem bridges. One is in Canada. Stunning, innovative, and unusual, it draws a great deal of publicity. The problem is that it’s flawed. In fact, as he comes to realize with horror, it isn’t actually safe.
The other problem is his relationship bridge; he has two women, one of whom he is married to in the USA, the other in London. That great big pond isn’t quite large enough to keep the two sides of his life from banging into one another. He loves both and doesn’t want to lose either of them, but he is essentially a monogamous person, and he doesn’t feel so good. He’s cheating on his wife and she doesn’t know about it; he keeps meaning to end it with Hilda, but when he sees her, he can’t.
The whole thing is resolved in a manner both brilliant and unanticipated until it is upon us. A novella rather than a novel, but quite well done. I do love Cather’s work!
Napoleon: A Life, by Robert Andrews *****
Robert Andrews has created an historical masterpiece in this massive tome, a biography of Napoleon. Thank you and thank you again to Net Galley and Viking Adult Publishers for the ARC.
Andrews is well known among historians; his scholarship and experience firmly establish him as an expert in the field of European history, especially military history and biography. The recent availability of a vast treasure-trove of primary documents made this biography possible, together with a tremendous amount of work and travel. He visited libraries all over the world and battle sites where Napoleon had been before him, before all of us. (And he set off the alarm in Napoleon’s throne three times!)
How long did this take, I wonder? By the time it was published, Andrews must have felt an overwhelming sense both of loss and of satisfaction.
As for your humble reviewer, I came to read about Napoleon, whose military career, rule, and downfall I had studied only at the shallowest level during my undergraduate years a whole long time ago, through the back door. My field is the American Civil War, but I was intrigued by the number of Civil War heroes (and others) who had studied Napoleon’s methods in detail, and referred to them when creating their own battle plans. What was it about Napoleon?
Generally, my advice to those contemplating reading a lengthy biography is to get the basics down first, but I didn’t follow my own advice here. I had the opportunity to get the ARC at the end of November, and it was now or never. I decided to plunge in, poorly prepared though I might be. When I was finished, I found I had bookmarked or made notes in over 700 places in this 926 page work. So whereas I won’t use all of my references, I can truthfully say that there is no filler, no fat. If you haven’t the patience for almost a thousand pages of Napoleon, then don’t go there, but for heaven’s sake don’t pretend that more is included here than is necessary for a thorough, scholarly, yet interesting treatment.
Having said that much, I also have to confess that I struggled somewhat with the ARC. My knowledge of European geography is pretty basic. I know where most of the countries are, what their climates are like, and for the most part, where the borders are located. When we morph into the Napoleonic era, I really, really needed maps, and that’s the price one sometimes pays for an ARC: your “map” is [map insert] noted. There will be a map; I don’t get to see it. So I gamely brought myself to my desktop for the first four Coalition Wars, and was lucky enough to find an interactive map that gave me part of what I needed to know. In some places, Andrews explained what took place so well that I could see most of the battle inside my head. But as of the fifth coalition forward, I quit trying to find my own maps when I couldn’t follow the action, and just read what was in the book.
All told, Andrews corrected some misperceptions I had developed regarding Napoleon. My own view had been that there was a heroic French Revolution, followed by what are usually termed “excesses” by the Jacobins who began the Revolution. (Today these en masse trips to the guillotine would be called atrocities.) But could the whole thing be salvaged? It seemed such a terrible waste to have a popular revolution, throw out not only a monarchy but one unusually lacking in decency toward the peasants and urban poor of France, and then have it all come tumbling down. And it also seems like a waste to have an autocrat take over. This was my perspective before reading Andrews’s biography.
Though his approach is both scholarly and balanced, Andrews offers a positive portrait of Napoleon, whom he treats with a fond, almost affectionate narrative. He points out that Napoleon kept the Bourbons off the throne for over twenty years, and it’s true that they returned in 1815 after Napoleon’s first abdication. Things got really ugly then. And he also points out that Napoleon’s career was unusually complicated. The point is well taken.
For example, who invades neighboring nations, overthrows their leaders, presumes to rewrite their constitution without consulting anyone that lives there…yet bestows upon them more civil rights than they have ever had before? And who else would insist in his terms for peace not only remuneration so that he can pay his troops and the annual benefits of military widows, but also demands that great works of art, privately owned, be turned over to him…whereupon he places them in a gallery where all visitors can enjoy them?
Mind you, the man is no Robin Hood. Far from it! He makes it clear from the beginning that he has no use for the ‘hoi polloi’, and whenever he ceases privately held property, he also sees to it that the previous owner is compensated.
The word “hubris” is often applied to Napoleon, and if not him, then who? Andrews argues that he might have been successful…if only. And there’s the rub, right? Because initially, he and his troops travel fast and hard. In the beginning, he asks nothing of them that he would not do himself. His opponents, on the other hand, are spoiled and effete. They travel with vast amounts of personal baggage and servants. They can’t move until they personally have this, that, the other. And in the end, that is the guy that Napoleon becomes.
The text is made more lively throughout with quotations of Napoleon himself, a prolific writer and a brilliant, articulate speaker.
The chapters are organized according to place, generally speaking, and this is very useful when the reader needs to go back and fact-check.
Andrews argues that Napoleon’s autocracy-as-meritocracy might have been successful if he had applied the standard to all of the dynasties he created after toppling their rulers that he applied to France. Nepotism created endless problems, and though Napoleon somehow thought that he personally might make up for the failings of his relatives, there is only so much one man can do. The many, many worthless siblings and other relatives he installed as instant royalty drained his resources and made problems that didn’t have to happen. His first wife, Josephine, was such an obsessive spender that one hates to think of the number of children under age six who might have lived had the wealth been more widely distributed.
Napoleon’s most loyal base of support was within the military, but he fought so aggressively that too many soldiers died, and the backlash was bound to come sooner or later. Yet the military base he so depended upon wanted him back again after just ten months of Bourbon reign.
Could Napoleon have been successful if he had left the Iberian peninsula alone? If he had avoided attacking Russia? Napoleon himself, upon looking back while in exile during his last years, recognizes that trying to best Britain, with its unstoppable navy, was folly; yet he certainly kept them busy for a good long while.
At one point, he reflects that if he had known he would end up defeated, he could have made different choices. He would like to be allowed to emigrate to the United States; who knows, he could have founded a state there! And here, my jaw drops as I imagine that instead of selling the Louisiana Purchase (which doubled the size of the USA) to the USA via President Thomas Jefferson, he had decided to settle it. But being Napoleon, would it have even stopped there, I wonder? He hated Britain and had nothing against US rulers; maybe he would have been able to kick the British out of Canada instead of fruitlessly attempting to rout them from their homeland.
Suddenly I can see how Andrews has become spellbound by what might have been. He has spent a lot more time with this material than I have, and it’s starting to affect me, too!
I know that some of those who read my reviews are teachers. I don’t see this as high school material; a small portion of it could be selected for honors level seniors or community college students perhaps, but then you have huge books to buy in order to use just a portion. I don’t see even the most gifted teenager sticking it out from start to finish. Though the narrative is engaging, the definitive biography is epic .It requires patience and dedication on the part of its readers. Developmentally, most young folks in their late teens and early twenties just won’t be there yet.
But if you are in doubt, buy one copy and read it yourself, then pass it around a little bit and see how it goes. Likewise, if you are homeschooling a truly extraordinary teenager that you think would gobble this up, buy it, read it (because you can’t home school anyone using a text you have not personally read), and then if you still think it may work and your student is game, give it a try.
All told, the price you will pay for this remarkable single volume biography is nothing compared to its worth in your own library, even if only used as a reference source.
Ice Brothers, by Sloan Wilson ***-****
Sloan Wilson was a veteran of the second world war, and he served in the Greenland Patrol. Here he uses his knowledge of the place to create an entirely unique setting. In fact, Greenland itself is very nearly a character in Ice Brothers. Thank you to Net Galley and Open Road Media for the ARC.
At the start, I was torn. Although I enjoy both historical fiction and military history a great deal, I deliberately avoid World War II stories that take place in the Pacific theater. My reason is that I don’t like to see Japanese people referred to with racist slurs, even though I know that at the time it was commonplace among many Caucasian members of Allied nations. The”J” word is every bit as offensive to me as the “N” word is. I understand that there was a time when Euro-Americans freely bandied both terms about. However, most editors have the sense to remove it and substitute a less heinous term these days, unless the use of the term serves an important purpose in the story. (For example, check the use of anti-Semitic language by the villainous skipper, Lowery, against whom we develop the bright and personal Nathan Green, who hears his name misused one time too many and vows to change it back to “Greenburg” once he is back in the US.)
So I wanted to read this book, about which little description was available, for two reasons: one was the setting, which will serve as the hook for a lot of readers. What did I know about Greenland? I didn’t even know it was Danish territory! A trip down my upstairs hallway to the large world map hanging on the wall there confirmed the story’s assertion: sure enough, right there underneath the word “Greenland”, writ large albeit in parenthesis, it says “Denmark”. How typically North American of me to have assumed it was Canadian! I surely needed to learn more, and good historical fiction is the most enjoyable way to learn many things.
The second reason for my interest was that it was described as a story in which the protagonist hunts for a Nazi ship. GOOD. So, Japan is unlikely to surface, and I can comfortably read without the story exploding in my face.
So when I hit the “J” word, which was not at all important to the story, but thrown in perhaps as set dressing or to set the tone of the story, I was shocked. The further extraneous reference by a character in the story who asserted that “…those little yellow bastards can’t fight” made it worse. (Of course, there was no reference to the internment of Americans of Japanese descent; extraneous material here is limited to that which is ugly and prejudicial.) I told myself I would take a break and read it a little bit later.
Every time I remembered my obligation to Open Road and Net Galley, I picked up my e-reader, but I had other galleys and other obligations, and each time I thought I would give Sloan’s work another try, I found myself reading a different ARC instead. This persisted for over a month; I can usually finish and review a book faster than that, unless asked to hold my review for publication.
Finally, I had to make a choice. I went back and reread the introduction. I steeled myself and forged onward. It’s a good thing that the plot, setting, and character development were so well done, because that word was used about ten times, and it never contributed a single thing to the story itself.
All right; let’s look at the story, then.
I know very little about watercraft, and was delighted with the accessible, instructive manner Sloan used to clarify the various types of ships and boats and the nautical terms that are most commonly used. I was also surprised and bemused by the stratification of resources apportioned to the Coast Guard as opposed to the Navy, with the Coast Guard serving as the poor cousin that receives whatever the Navy doesn’t need. The ingenious ways in which our fictional Coast Guard officers and crew work around the lack of resources, often not at all legally, must have had at least some basis in fact. I found it really interesting, and it drew me closer to the story as I sympathized with the men on the trawler (The Arluk).
Sloan’s approachable way of describing Greenland’s weather and geography were also really useful.
Greenland is a dangerous place to sail. Today it is different than it was during that time period. I did a web crawl and was horrified to see how much of it has melted now. Back then, at least, it was possible for a sturdy ship to weave its way into a fjord (which is like a peninsula made of water that pokes into the ice mountains), and then have everything freeze, and the ice might crush the ship and its crew against the mountains. The ever-present tension of a possible encounter with Nazis created a sense of suspense that made the book hard to put down after a certain point was reached, even with the racist terminology, which continued to grate and became worse when Paul and Nathan discussed the loyalties of the “Eskies” or “Eskimos” with the Danish inhabitants. The Inuit people were treated as cartoon characters, and the static, repeated description of their faces as round and copper-colored and their mentality as “child-like” made me wonder where this capable writer’s otherwise outstanding skill with varied language had gone. Yet the story still tugged at my interest, and so I made a note in my e-reader and forged on.
Another facet of the story that kept me reading late into the night was the ambiguity of the Danish residents of Greenland, and in particular, the character of Brit. Were these folks really held by force by the Nazis that we could not even see, or were they complicit? Whose side were they on? Would Brit betray Paul to them? When he acceded to her request to see the ship, and she curiously nosed into every odd corner, asking technical questions about the engine and radar, I wanted to pick her up bodily and toss her off the ship!
Sloan was a strong writer for a very different time. His work could still be really compelling, but I doubt I am the only reader who will take exception to the racial slurs that do nothing to drive the plot or develop the characters. I hope either his heirs or his editors will go in and update this work. It can only improve the story to do so.
Recommended, with the qualifications mentioned.
Victorian Murderesses, by Mary S. Hartman ****
It took me awhile to decide to include this title on my blog. The problem as I saw it was that it was marketed in October as a fun-but-naughty romp through history. The reality is less interesting, and to my eye, unbelievably dry. My daughter, a high school student, saw it differently. The four stars are our compromise between my three stars and her five.
“True crime” is a big house with a whole lot of rooms. Some true crime books are deliciously prurient; others are as dusty as the top of a ten foot tall bookcase. In this case, the title (“unspeakable”) and the jacket artist lead the reader to believe we are really going to get down and dish the dirt, and what is more…it’s all true!
Instead, what we have here is a very well-written, well-documented, extremely scholarly if surprisingly dull bit of research, maybe the author’s advanced degree work. The collision between the teaser and the product are somewhat jarring. This was a First Read sent me free through the Goodreads program and the publisher. I would have abandoned it more readily had I not felt a duty to get through it.
What would have fit the bill without ruining the author’s hard work is a good piece of juicy narrative nonfiction. Put in the documentation, but pick up the pace! As is, the book is sometimes a feminist treatise that all but blames Victorian society’s social contract for slut-shaming as an understandable excuse for murder in the case of unsuitable, unmarriageable mates of the lower classes (sorry, no sympathy here), or a self-defensive maneuver against constant verbal abuse, without the loss of a high standard of living that came with the ornery groom. A baby born out of wedlock gets snuffed when an abortion can’t be obtained. The author is inexplicably sympathetic to the not-for-long-I’m-not young mother. Don’t get me wrong; I am pro-choice and an ardent feminist, which you already know if you’ve been reading my blog long. But we’re talking about an infant carried to term, birthed, then suffocated. It turns my stomach to think of it.
At other times, the pace quickens a bit, as if the author is about to get excited and take us along with her, but then her dispassionate researcher’s mind grabs hold of her–stop it right now, you’re getting worked up!–and we go back to the librarian’s hushed monotone.
The font, while suitably Victorian, is really tiny and hard on the eyes.
It may be that I am being unfair to Hartman; she has done a good deal of work here, and the fault may lie with Dover or whoever is publishing and promoting her work. All I know is that I expected this to be a fun read, and it wasn’t. I kept pushing it away in favor of other reading, as if postponing the book might make me like it better once I returned to it.
My daughter, on the other hand, took it to a corner and became disconcertingly fascinated by it, not unlike a cat who’s just found an aquarium full of fish. Hmmm! Her explanation: “It’s even better than I expected!” Well…okay. And now, it’s HER galley.
A strong, scholarly effort that should have been marketed as such. Not a Halloween read.
History of the Battle of Gettysburg, by Craig Symonds *****
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Ordinarily I have little patience for anyone who picks up a book on US military history and just wants to look at the pictures.
But I read the text. In most places it’s fine, but once you start reading McPherson and Sears on Gettysburg, there isn’t much that Symond’s text will tell you that’s new. Symonds sticks to the basics, and he gives you the brass tacks, if you want to cut to the chase. He is the retired chair of the US Naval Academy. His background speaks for itself, and he is highly lauded as a Civil War scholar. And look at the pictures! The American Civil War was the first US war that had photography available. No, they couldn’t take action shots yet; the subject had to remain stationary for too long at a time for that to work. But there are a lot of primary documents here, photographs of leaders, of letters and memos as they were originally written (with the text beneath them if illegible; spelling was pretty much a discretionary practice back then). There are photos of battlefields with men still lying on them. (It is now considered a breach of national security for the press to go to Afghanistan and shoot photographs of US troops, whether in action or in closed coffins, for the American public to see.) There are photographs of the weapons available at the time, and of landscapes you can visit today that look nothing like they did then. Look at the pictures! My favorite is a full page photograph of Lincoln. His bow tie is dusty, faded, and crooked. His hair cut is terrible. His face is creased, and it bears the hardship of many sleepless nights, and perhaps also of the death of his son and the illness of his wife. It is a picture of a real person, long before the era when presidents became packaged goods to be marketed to the American public. I have sometimes felt bad about the fact that I will likely never visit the Smithsonian. It is the dream of all serious students of American history. But my legs won’t let me get far now, and an airport is accessible only if I use the wheelchair service, which makes me feel quite conspicuous. It’s far easier to stay home and read. This book, which I purchased some time ago in hard cover, will hold a place of pride on my bookshelves for many years to come. Primary sources aren’t that easily come by. Along with Sherman’s and Grant’s memoirs, this is an important addition to my Civil War library. |
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The Trouble with the Truth, by Edna Robinson ****
Three and a half stars, rounded up. My thanks go to Betsy Robinson, the late author’s daughter, who invited me to preview an ARC and review it. It’s been a fun read.
Lucresse and her brother Ben have an unusual life. On the one hand, they aren’t starving, as many people around the world were during the Great Depression. But on the other hand, their circumstances require a constantly changing back-story in order for them to be accepted by polite society, which was much harsher and more judgmental than it is today.
For one thing, their mother is dead, and their father, a much older man than their classmates’ fathers, has not remarried. Not unless you count Fred, their chauffeur, butler, and otherwise highly respectable servant whose devotion to their family is not fully understood until a crisis strikes. Fred does not sleep with Father, of course. He has separate quarters, but no separate life. They’re pretty much his whole story.
Lucresse has the trouble with the truth that gives our novel its title. Her whole life is predicated upon a series of courteous lies; every time they pack everything and move to a new town, which occurs as often as four times annually, she and Ben are thrown birthday parties. There’s a good reason to do that, but it’s not true that it’s their birthday, and they both know it. And when Father cultivates the acquaintance of a well-known actress and she moves into their guest room, a visiting aunt is told she is the book keeper. It’s another lie, for the sake of appearances.
This highly accessible, charming novel is set out in brief chapters, and in most cases the chapter represents a new story within the overall story, so it is almost like reading a series of consecutive short stories featuring the same characters. With quirky good humor and also a certain amount of ambiguity regarding our head of household, I found myself smiling and nodding at the fib-to-cover-another-fib.
Though the family’s life is bizarre, the children are loved and well cared for; this is no Glass Castle. Rather, it is a portrait of a fictional family that never quite meets the conventional standard society seems to expect.
Recommended for those who like a little whimsy now and then.
Seattle Book Mama 