Charlie and Me, by Mary Neiswender, Kate Neiswender

Mary Neiswender was the first and primary journalist that the notorious serial killer Charles Manson was willing to talk to. She did so at a time in history in which women in journalism were exceedingly rare, and she put up with a whole lot of crap, first in order to remain in her field, and then later to rise to its pinnacle, receiving a Pulitzer nomination.

My thanks go to the University of Nebraska press and NetGalley. This book is for sale now.

Charles Manson was the leader of a group that called itself “The Family,” almost entirely made up of girls and young women that had nowhere else to go. However, people came and went within it, and so those that spoke of it as a cohesive entity were mistaken. Manson was handsome and charismatic despite his small physical form, and he was convicted of the 1969 Tate-LaBianca murders even though he was almost certainly not present at the time.

Neiswender regarded him as a killer, but also was convinced that he hadn’t had a fair trial. She makes a good case. She delayed writing this book until Manson’s death in prison in 2017, as she had promised to keep much of what he said off the record. Once he died, she considered herself to be freed from that agreement. Neiswender died in March of this year, and her daughter has assisted her in seeing that the book was completed and published.

I don’t read a lot of true crime, but I couldn’t put this book down. Neiswender’s observations and insights are fascinating, and she does a fine job of bringing Manson to life—in a way that the public can appreciate without the physical threat the man represented in person.

Highly recommended.

The Slate, by Matthew FitzSimmons*****

Author Matthew FitzSimmons is a veteran novelist, but he is new to me. I picked up on the buzz generated by his most recent book, a political thriller titled The Slate. What a ride! This is a true thriller, one that gripped me at the outset and didn’t let me go till it was done with me. I’d had surgery and was dealing with a lot of drowsiness from the various medications and anesthesia, but this book didn’t care about any of that. This book—aided and abetted by narrator Mia Barron– made me read it anyway, and I’m glad.

My thanks go to Net Galley and Brilliance Publishing for the review copies. This book is available to the public now.

Agatha Cardiff is retired. She used to be a political mover and shaker, but many years ago, she was roped into doing something she didn’t want to do, and should not have done. Since then, she’s been hiding. A neighbor offers her some bedding plants, and she takes his damn head off in a single bite, because she does not want to get to know him. She doesn’t want to get to know anyone.

To make ends meet, Agatha rents out her basement flat to young Shelby. Shelby is late with her rent, and has done something regrettable in order to rectify the problem. Now, Agatha learns, Shelby is in deep trouble, being held captive on board a ship.  Well, there’s no choice, not really. Agatha has to save the kid, even though it means stepping out of seclusion. And sure enough, all hell breaks loose.

As Agatha emerges from her self-protective exile, we begin to see exactly what she’s capable of. It’s a revelation! Our point of view changes occasionally, but make no mistake, this is Agatha’s story. FitzSimmons is such a badass writer that he even manages to develop this character, something I rarely see in a thriller, because it’s hard to maintain rapid pacing while dealing with backstory and internal monologue. He makes it look effortless, but you try doing that. Go on, give it your best shot.

See?

I often shy away from political thrillers because so many of them have a hugely conservative bent that sets my teeth on edge. The Slate, in contrast, plays it right down the middle, and shouldn’t offend red hats, the woke, or anyone anywhere else on the political spectrum.

Because of the narrator’s skill, I lean toward recommending this as an audio book foremost, but if you are a visual reader, don’t let that stop you, as the print version is also excellent. Highly recommended.

Guilty Creatures, by Mikita Brottman*****

Tallahassee, Florida is a city with more than its share of horrifying murders, which Brottman tells us has earned it the nickname, “Tallanasty.” Is it something in the water? No, wait. That’s the gators. One thing that we know is true: in the far right, conservative Christian enclave there, two upstanding young people decided to forego the disgrace and humiliation of divorce by committing the perfect murder. One of their spouses would have an accident while out duck hunting, and he would never be heard from again.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

The four of them met when they were just kids, and while attending a private Christian high school, they developed a tight bond. Mike and Denise, Brian and Kathy were constantly in one another’s company, and they stayed tight after graduation. The two couples married, and then they cut loose, the four of them partying and engaging in edgy sexual practices that could make an old lady school teacher like me blush. Mike, a hardworking young man from the working class, and Kathy, who wanted to start a family, were ready to settle down and behave themselves; Mike’s wife, Denise, and Kathy’s husband, Brian, were not. In a heartbeat they began carrying out an affair, making elaborate arrangements to avoid shame within their families, church, and community. Ultimately, they decided that Mike, who was a stickler for a structured life and extreme attention to even the smallest financial expenditures, simply had to go. They devised a plan to disappear him, and although suspicions were raised, they got away with the crime for nearly twenty years, when they turned on each other and all hell broke loose.

I had never heard of the case before reading this book, though the author tells us that it has received extensive media coverage. Brottman does a fine job of relaying the story, with perfect pacing and just enough attention to detail. There’s extensive documentation in the end notes, and she relies primarily on primary sources. It reads almost like narrative nonfiction, with suspense building to where I couldn’t look away during the last 25% of the story. This is especially impressive given that I can usually walk away from murder mysteries and thrillers at any time.

I seldom read true crime, and when I finished reading this book, I recalled why that’s so. While I was reading it, it was a fine, trashy wallow, steeping myself in the misdeeds of people that live lives very different from my own. It’s riveting stuff. But once I was done, I felt as though I should take a shower and perhaps gargle.

A little of this type of story goes a long way, but for those that love true crime, it’s a hard one to beat. Highly recommended for those that enjoy the genre.

Longstreet, by Elizabeth Varon*****

Longstreet: The Confederate General Who Defied the South is a biography that focuses on Longstreet’s military service in the American Civil War, and his political life thereafter. It’s meticulously researched, and the documentation is among the best I’ve seen anywhere. Students, Civil War buffs, and other interested readers won’t want to miss it.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

James Longstreet was one of the most able and respected generals for the Confederacy, serving as General Robert E. Lee’s right hand officer. Lee called him “my old war horse.” However, a disagreement between them about strategy at Gettysburg has made Longstreet a convenient scapegoat for Lost Cause types that accuse him of treachery, of deliberately sabotaging the deadly three day fight, and thereby causing the rebels to lose a key battle. Varon sets the record straight, and then goes on to explain what he did following Lee’s surrender and the Confederacy’s failure.

When I saw the subscript in the title, I wondered whether Varon might be overstating Longstreet’s postwar behavior in order to draw readers. Having read it, I can say that she has not overstated one single thing. This is a fair and balanced account. In essence, Longstreet recognized that, while the Confederate Army fought long and hard, it had in fact lost, and there was no good to be gained from further destruction at a time when reconciliation was more important. He basically said that having lost the war, the best thing for the South to do is recognize that the war is done, and proceed to obey the laws of the United States and rebuild the ruined Southern states.

I was unaware, before reading this biography, how extensively defeated Caucasian Southerners were inclined to sabotage the U.S. government. Guerilla actions were common, along with the passage of local laws that directly conflicted with Federal ones. Acts of terror against African American former slaves, as well as free Black Southerners, were frequent whenever Federal troops or other peacekeepers were not present to see to their safety and their rights. And though I had not realized it, Longstreet hailed from Louisiana, which seems to have had the ugliest resistance of all, with the White League and the Knights of the White Camelia wreaking havoc against Blacks that occupied governmental posts, became too prosperous for the liking of local Whites, or that in any way displeased any White person of any social standing. Longstreet did his best to shut that down; he failed.

Varon discusses the role played by Longstreet’s personal friendship with U.S. Grant, one which predated the war; he was best man at Grant’s wedding to Julia. She suggests that although the friendship was important, Longstreet was also acting on principle.

Varon doesn’t overstate her case, and is measured and fair in her assessment. She points to the occasions when Longstreet folded and cooperated with the local racists in that well-traveled road of U.S. politicians: I have to do this terrible thing in order to get elected, or I can’t do any good for the former slaves or anything else. This habit, both past and present, sets my teeth on edge, but she doesn’t defend it. She also points out that had the Confederacy won the war, Longstreet would have remained a Dixie racist for the rest of his life, more likely than not.

Those looking at the length of this book—over 500 pages—should be aware that about the last twenty-five percent of it is endnotes, with documentation, bibliography, etc. And while it may be more than a general reader that simply enjoys a good biography might appreciate, those interested in the Civil War should get this book and read it.

The Meth Lunches, by Kim Foster****

Kim Foster and her husband, David, create a food pantry in front of their house—and later, inside it—during the pandemic. It begins with the employment of one hungry handyman who’s also an addict, and from there, it mushrooms. This is her memoir of that time, and also a philosophical treatise on poverty and hunger in the United States.

My thanks go to Net Galley, RB Media, and St. Martin’s Press for the review copies. This book is for sale now.

When Foster’s family moves from New York to Las Vegas, one of the first thing she notices is the meth. It’s everywhere. Perhaps it is the milder weather; addicts in New York have to find a spot out of the weather during much of the year, but Vegas is in the desert, mild enough for the unhoused to sleep just about anywhere, warm enough that addicts don’t have to hide themselves away to get high.

The pandemic hits Vegas hard. So many people make their living from some aspect of the entertainment business, and for a while, it is a dead industry. And so, after hiring a man with an obvious dependency to do work on their property—work that he never completes—and hearing his story, the Fosters decide to convert the little free library in front of their home to a little free pantry. And from there, it mushrooms.

The pantry begins small, but Foster is a chef, and she can’t stand the notion of just putting out pre-packaged crap when she can cook food with fresh ingredients that will make others feel better. And as the book takes off, I momentarily regret taking this galley, because I generally hate stories that drop recipes into the middle of the plot. If I want cooking information, I’d rather go to a cookbook, or to a recipe website. And it was right there in the title, after all: The Meth Lunches. It’s pretty obvious from the get go that lunch is going to be juxtaposed with social issues.

But as the story continues, I don’t hate it after all. For one thing, this whole book is nonfiction. There’s no plot that is sidelined by a recipe. The whole point is that that Foster considers food, and the act of feeding others, to be a sort of therapy. She makes the point well.

Eventually, the scale of the operation becomes mind boggling. Multiple freezers to hold meat; trucks that deliver food. The pantry begins as an out-of-pocket gift from the Fosters to the down and out of Las Vegas, occasionally supplemented via Venmo from friends, when they are able to help. Inevitably, the pantry finds its way into the local media, and networks form with other food banks and nonprofits.

In between all of this, Foster develops relationships with some of the people that come by. She and her husband are foster parents—ironic, given their name, right? And we hear not only about what the children they house and love have experienced, but also about the children’s biological families. Because although it’s officially discouraged, Kim strongly feels that the children heal best if their biological parents are in their lives in whatever limited way is possible. So before we know it, she is deeply involved with some horribly dysfunctional adults as well. And it is the stories she tells about interacting with them and the children, two of whom she and David eventually adopt, that make this story so riveting.

At the outset, she intends for the pantry to be a resource for local families that have homes and kitchens, but whose finances have taken a huge hit due to the pandemic. The very poor already have resources, she reasons. But of course, the homeless find her, and she doesn’t turn them away.

And here is the rub, the only aspect of this book that I dislike. She tells us that one unhoused person in four is mentally ill, and she believes that this official figure is low, at least in Las Vegas. And then she talks about those with addiction issues.

But what she never gets around to discussing at all—unless she does it so briefly that I miss it—is the unhoused people that are not chemically dependent on anything, whose mental health is stable, but who don’t have a permanent residence because they straight-up ran out of money. To hear her tell it, you’d think they don’t exist, and you know that’s not so. So many American families live from paycheck to paycheck, even when the economy is said to be booming. And I feel that she has left these people without faces or voices. And that, in turn, perpetuates a stereotype, the one that suggests that everyone that is homeless is there because they’re either crazy or junkies or both. I use the offensive terms intentionally, because that’s how the stereotype works. 

And the stereotype in turn begets a lie, the insinuation that nobody has to be unhoused. Don’t use drugs. Get mental health care. Get over yourself. And whereas I can see that Foster doesn’t intend to promote such thinking, and in fact takes a hard line over poverty existing at all in such a wealthy nation, when she doesn’t give space to the many, many individuals and families that are out there because the wage earner was laid off, or because they were just squeaking by but then the rent increased, it does distort her overall picture. I don’t come away from this book thinking that most of the homeless are not using meth or any other dangerous, life-altering street drugs, even though it’s true.

Nevertheless, this is a poignant, stirring tale that won’t be told by anyone else, because it can’t be, and bearing in mind the caveats above, I recommend it to you, both as audio and print.

If It Sounds Like a Quack, by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling*****

Pulitzer Prize finalist Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling takes on the weird world of alternative medicine and the medical freedom movement in his new book, If It Sounds Like a Quack. My thanks go to Net Galley and PublicAffairs for the review copy. This book is available to the public right now.

The fact is, I have—or I had—no particular interest in alternative medicine, but I had read Hongoltz-Hetling’s last book, A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear, which was well researched, well written, and most importantly, completely hilarious. I have reviewed over 800 books, but the number of those that I later purchased is smaller than 10; yet I bought that book to give as a Christmas gift. So when I saw that he had another book available, I didn’t hesitate. And I wasn’t disappointed.

The book describes the bizarre programs and treatments espoused by six individuals: Larry Lytle, Toby McAdam, Robert O. Young, Alicja Kolyszko, Dale and Leilani Neumann, and The Alien. The seventh player in each section is America, and that’s where we see what U.S. laws say, and what enforcement, if any, comes down on these snake oil salesmen.

The opening section, the first of four, introduces each of these players and explains what led to them going into the businesses they have chosen. Among the various One True Cures are a laser salesman, a leech peddler, faith healers, a supplement seller, and a Mormon missionary that resurrects a long-dead theory about germs. There’s also a pair that develops a health drink; one of them is human, and one is not.

The author suggests that the success of these characters—and some of them have become wealthy beyond belief—has a good deal to do with the state of standard medical care in America. Nobody trusts Big Pharma. The disparity of what treatments we can expect is so great that in one New York hospital, there’s a wait time in the ER of nearly 6 hours for most people, whereas the wealthy can get a private room with high thread count sheets and a butler. One can see why many people conclude that anything must be better than this; yet, they are mistaken.

Apart from his sterling research and documentation, and his clear, conversational tone that at times caused me to forget, momentarily, that I was reading nonfiction, the thing that sets Hongoltz-Hetling apart from others is his ability to shift seamlessly from prose that is falling-down-funny, to that which is not only serious, but tragic, without ever breaking the boundaries of good taste. Because he did it so brilliantly in his last book, I watched for it this time—and I still couldn’t catch the segue way from one to the other.

Because I had fallen behind in my nonfiction reviews, I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons and listened to it while I watered my plants. It is very well done, and I had no problem following the thread. The only downside is that the printed version has some humorous puns by way of spelling that the listener misses.

One way or the other, get this book and read it, even if the topic isn’t inside your usual field of interest. Highly recommended to everyone.

Poverty by America, by Matthew Desmond****

“Hungry people want bread. The rich convene a panel of experts. Complexity is the refuge of the powerful.”

Desmond is the author of Evicted, the Pulitzer winning examination of urban homelessness. Desmond himself grew up poor, and his family was forced out of their home when he was a child. These things give him a different and more authoritative perspective than most urban ethnographers.

 My thanks go to Net Galley and Crown Publishing for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public tomorrow, March 21, 2023.

This book is written for a general readership, and it’s more readable than any other nonfiction work I’ve seen on this subject. His tone is conversational, and his research is impeccable, drawing from a wide variety of sources, well integrated and organized. He addresses the past and present roles of racism, explaining how the overtly discriminatory statutes and policies of the past have morphed into more subtly framed, yet still ubiquitous ones of today. He tells us “why there is so much poverty in America and…how to eliminate it.” He speaks to an audience of middle and upper class readers, warning that we must “…each of us, in our own way, [must become] poverty abolitionists, unwinding ourselves from our neighbors’ deprivation and refusing to live as unwitting enemies of the poor.”

In revealing the roots of American poverty, Desmond is thorough. He discusses the role played by medical costs, and the many workers that still cannot afford health care; the withering of unions, and the way that gig workers and independent contractors have replaced permanent employees; incarceration, and the debilitating effects it has, not only on the person sent away, but on their families for generations to come; the way that government assistance programs have been legally diverted to programs having nothing to do with the poor; the way that poor people are forced to pay more for the same goods and services that the better off pay. He discusses the ways that those living in poverty are cut off from political and economic opportunities. He does these things better than anyone else is doing them right now, and it makes me mad as hell, seeing millions of ruined lives all laid out so starkly.

It is when he approaches solutions that things become a little muddy. There are a few of his suggestions that I genuinely disagree with, but most of them are sound; the problem is that, despite his assurance that all of these changes can be made without much incursion into the lives of the wealthy and powerful, the chances of these people agreeing to implement such changes are somewhere between slim and none. He assures us that he is no Marxist (and that’s the truth, alas,) and that the rich can still have plenty; yet in reality, it’s clear to this reviewer that the kinds of changes that are needed are ones that working people will have to force from the tightly closed fists of the rich. This is where the fifth star falls off of my rating.

Nonetheless, Poverty by America is well worth your time and money, and I recommend it to you.

The White House Plumbers, by Egil “Bud” Krogh and Matthew Krogh

Egil “Bud” Krogh was one of the men known as the “White House Plumbers,” which was a small group of operatives that dressed as tradesmen in order to illegally break into and ransack private offices for the purpose of digging up dirt on political opponents. Krogh’s job, together with E. Howard Hunt, was to lead a small team of men to burglarize the office of Dr. Fielding, the psychiatrist that treated journalist Daniel Ellsberg, in search of a way to discredit Ellsberg, whom President Richard Nixon regarded as an opponent.

My thanks go to Net Galley, St. Martin’s Press, and Macmillan Audio for the review copy and audio book. This book is for sale now.

Few people shy of the Boomer generation will have personal recollection of the Watergate scandal that brought down a sitting U.S. president for the first time, and the burglary of Fielding’s office was the first illegal event that set it all in motion. Nixon was furious that the Pentagon Papers had been released and that the U.S. Supreme Court had come down on the side of the First Amendment and the free press. Consequently, the president decided that the executive branch must go it alone, and sought a way to discredit the journalists behind it. That was how all of this came about. He howled about national security, and may or may not have believed it; or, he may have sought to cover up lies he had told to the American people about the war in Indochina, and  since he couldn’t force the publication out of circulation, the next best thing would be to persuade the public that its authors—or annotators, at any rate—were crazy and not to be believed. This background information comes from me, not from the book.

At any rate, this political memoir comes to us courtesy of Bud Krogh, and also his son Matthew, who completed it after Bud’s death. For the purpose of this review, I will use the name Krogh to refer to Bud, unless otherwise noted.

Krogh was brought into this mess by John Ehrlichman, one of the two advisors that were nearly as close as a second skin to Nixon during his time in office. Other accounts refer to both as cold-blooded thugs, and my earlier reading leads me to agree with them, but to Bud, Ehrlichman was a noble soul dedicated to his country and his president, a fine, devout individual that was like a second father to him growing up. It didn’t occur to him, initially at least, that anything he was being asked to do was corrupt or scandalous; here, I find myself shifting in my seat. Surely he must have wondered why this secret little group of men, not even government employees, were being tasked with this job, rather than the agencies that ordinarily do the cloak-and-dagger jobs? He claims that Nixon couldn’t trust FBI director J. Edgar Hoover, who was a slimy character, and that makes at least a little sense to anyone familiar with him. Yikes.

The writing as well as the accountability are uneven throughout this book. The prologue sounds sketchy to me. Those of us that have spent any time at all watching criminal trials take place is familiar with the vaguely nebulous language I see and hear at the beginning of this thing. Instead of saying that he has done something very wrong and is sorry, he says he has made bad choices, and he is sorry about “what happened.” This is the language that guilty people use when their attorney has told them to show remorse. Someone not listening carefully might think that the speaker has apologized, but they’ve actually distanced themselves from wrongdoing. During this portion of the memoir, I glanced at the text and also the device playing the audio, half expecting to see a little slime leaching from its margins.

And yet, at the end, the prose is more eloquent, and the accountability rock solid. Krogh goes to the psychiatrist in order to apologize in person, once he is out of prison. He visits Nixon to apologize to him (which baffles me, but okay.) He claims to have declined a presidential pardon. He never loses an opportunity to put on a hair shirt prior to his many speaking engagements. And so it goes.

One could surmise that the early portion was written by Krogh, and the end written by his son, but even if that is true, those speaking engagements were taken by Bud, not by Matthew, and likewise the specific apologies rendered. So who knows?

The narrator for the audiobook is Peter Krogh, who does a fine job.

If you are interested in studying the Watergate scandal and haven’t read any other books about it, this is not the one. Krogh’s involvement ended with the break-in to Fielding’s office, and he helped cover it up, lying under oath as he was told to do, but he had nothing to do with the Watergate Hotel burglary of the Democratic National Committee’s offices. In short, though famous enough to be remembered for his actions, he was not a central player. For those interested in reading just one book about this scandal, I’d go with All the President’s Men, by Woodward and Bernstein; The Nixon Defense, by John Dean; or Nixon: The Life, by John A Farrell. These are all fairly lengthy; if you are looking for something less lengthy, try One Man Against the World, by Tim Weiner.

As a general read for the uninitiated, I’d give this book 2.5 stars. For Nixon and Watergate buffs, I rate it 3.5 stars.

Marked for Life, by Isaac Wright, Jr. *****

Marked for Life is the legal memoir of Isaac Wright, Junior, and it is a compelling story. At age 28, Wright was framed as a “drug kingpin,” though he had never used or sold drugs, and when he rejected the plea deal offered him, he was convicted and sentenced to life plus seventy years. Through his own efforts, he was able to prove his own innocence and regain his freedom. This book is for sale now, and you should get it and read it.

My thanks go to Net Galley and Macmillan Audio for the review copy. Listening to the recorded version is all the more powerful, because the author reads it himself. Readers should know that this book starts out painfully harsh, with the blow-by-blow events of the day he is arrested, and his subsequent treatment. There’s not a tremendous amount of physical violence, but the emotional toll could just about bring me to my knees; imagine how it must have been for Wright, who lived through it! I begin to fear that I will dread listening to it, and so I promise myself that this will be my car book; I will listen to it while I am driving around, and when I get home, I will turn it off. However, only the beginning is harsh, and once I am twenty percent of the way into it, it becomes so interesting that I quickly change my mind, and it joins me in the kitchen. So reader, don’t be afraid of this book. The rough part is all in the first few chapters.

Wright is targeted by corrupt local officials, who are under the misapprehension that he has a small fortune socked away in the safe in his bedroom. In fact, Wright is a successful businessman; he starts as a music producer, then moves into management, touring with Run DMC, and indeed, he and his family live well. Although he doesn’t say as much, part of me wonders if that is his crime, in the eyes of the local cops and courts: he’s a Black man with money. As soon as he is arrested, the shakedown begins. Give us the money, Wright, and we’ll make it all go away.

He doesn’t, and they don’t.

The most fascinating part of this is learning how a prisoner is able to study the law and represent himself. Obviously, not everyone is as literate and intelligent as Wright is; he makes himself indispensable to other prisoners by assisting them with their own cases also. His ability to juggle a lot of moving parts—his own appeal, his fellow inmates’ cases, and the rigors and restrictions of the prison system, along with the endless pressure on him from those that framed him—is impressive. A lot of his success lies in his perception of what other people want. What does the warden want? What do his fellow prisoners want and need? If this had been me, I don’t think it would have gone well. I’d have been good with the research and the paperwork, but I doubt I could have read the wishes and intentions of those around me as successfully as Wright has done. Ultimately, it is an inspirational story, and I highly recommend it to you.

The Sentence, by Louise Erdrich*****

I wasn’t able to get a galley this time, and so I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons. This turned out to be the best possible way to read it, because Erdrich narrates it herself.

The Sentence is set in Minneapolis during the pandemic, from November 2019 to November 2020. It starts with the world’s most hilarious crime, one which sends our protagonist, Tookie, to prison; however, most of the meat of the story takes place once she’s out again. Tookie develops a love of writing (“with murderous intent,”) while she’s incarcerated, and so, once she is released, what more natural place is there for her to look for work, than a bookstore? But this bookstore is special. It’s haunted.

Tookie’s story is wrapped around a number of social issues and current events; most prominently, of course, is that of American Indians’ rights; this is the time and place of the murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis cop Derek Chauvin, and so the demonstrations of outraged citizens are folded into the novel as well. And of course, this is not one bit funny.

I came to read Erdrich late in the game, when The Night Watchman, which won the Pulitzer, came out in 2020. That one novel persuaded me that from now on, I would read every blessed thing Erdrich writes. The Sentence strengthens this resolution.

Highly recommended.