Category Archives: racism

Opera Wars, by Caitlin Vincent****

Posted on by
Reply

Caitlin Vincent is a former opera singer and company owner, and so she’s in a good position to talk about its controversies. This compact little book carries a wealth of information for the interested layman. My thanks go to NetGalley and Scribner for the review copy; this book is for sale now.

Much of the book discusses, as advertised, the controversies surrounding opera. How much license can its companies, directors, etc. take with the original versions of the most canonical of operas? What if, instead of taking place in the expected setting, one was to stage the opera in outer space, or in a future world, or, or, or…? There’s no law that says it can’t be done, and sometimes it is. Yet those that take such liberties have to face the ravening hoards that take exception to such variations.

What about the new operas that aren’t famous yet? Remember, every opera was new at one point.

But the greatest controversy of all is that of race. Is it acceptable for a Caucasian singer to play Madame Butterfly, for example? Opera has long been the bastion of white musicians, and though there’s been a bit of progress, the number of performers of color is still quite small. So, if this part should be sung by an Asian woman, must she be Japanese, or Japanese-American? What if a Filipino woman wants the part and can sing it well? And then the other question: may performers of color play parts that traditionally go to white singers? A Japanese-American soprano is quoted as saying that while she is grateful for the number of times she’s been cast in that opera, at some point in her life she’d like to play a role other than Madame Butterfly!

At the tender age of 18, this reviewer wanted to become an opera singer; after less than two years in college I changed my mind. Reading this book made me thank my lucky stars that I did. Vincent explains exactly what is required of anyone that wants to pursue the dream, and though others had told me that it’s a difficult road made still more difficult when one doesn’t have financial backing or the right contacts, I had no idea just how grueling the path can be. I might have taken to the bath with a package of shiny razor blades had I gone down that road! Constant rejection; sexual harassment, even in the Me-Too era; poverty; lack of sleep from working day jobs, rehearsing and training, auditioning, and preparing to perform, should one be cast in even a tiny role are but a few of the demands this life exacts. Plane tickets to audition; plane tickets to reach the performance venue, sometimes overseas; suitable clothes for auditions; costly vocal coaching; these are among the expenses the performers are expected to meet, in addition to the ordinary expenses of room and board, transportation, and utilities.

And yet, are the artists exploited? Vincent points out that most opera companies operate on a shoestring, with the less famous ones closing at alarming rates. It’s not that someone at the top is leaching off the members of the company; in most cases, nobody is making much money. While a few principal artists are well paid and well known, those are the rare exceptions.

The narrative flows beautifully, and the hard facts are broken up with occasional humorous anecdotes.

Those interested in the world of opera but lacking much knowledge will benefit from the wealth of information packed into a relatively brief space here; the book is just over 300 pages, but nearly 40% of that is endnotes! I recommend this little gem to all that are curious.

The Tree of Light and Flowers, by Thomas Perry****

Posted on by

The Tree of Light and Shadows is the eleventh and final entry in the iconic Jane Whitefield series by Thomas Perry.  My thanks go to NetGalley and The Mysterious Press for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

For those unfamiliar, Jane Whitefield is a Seneca Indian woman with a past avocation of helping people that need to disappear. The person in question might be a woman running from an abusive relationship; an innocent person that’s inadvertently run afoul of the mafia or some other dangerous group or individual; or someone that has been wrongfully convicted of a crime. Jane combines her Native tracking skills with modern methods of blending in or hiding away. However, in recent years she’s given it up, eschewing the danger for a normal life with her husband, who is a physician, and their baby girl, May in Amherst, New York.

However, the universe has other plans for her right now. Clare, a young Indian girl who has stabbed her rapist, has learned that she is wanted for murder. The dead man was Caucasian, and he moved in powerful circles. Knowing she is unlikely to get a fair shake in an Oklahoma courtroom, she heads for New York to find the distant relative that she’s heard will help people like her.

At the same time, a Russian woman named Magda has been hired by someone with a vendetta to find and kill Jane.

The dual storylines are deftly handled, which doesn’t surprise me, since our author is Thomas Perry. But there is one misstep that happens early on that niggles at me for the rest of the book. When Clare finds Jane, Jane decides the girl is too young to be established on her own, so she tells her husband that she wants Clare to remain with them. Clare will go to school and help with the baby. And then—here it comes—she runs out to do errands and leaves the baby with Clare! Would someone as seasoned and astute as Jane leave her infant daughter in the care of someone that might be attacked by people from her past, and do so before the girl has been in her home for even 48 hours? I find this so jarring that I am unable to entirely forget about it for the duration of the novel.

Nevertheless, the book holds my interest, and I look forward to my session reading it each day. When the conclusion is near, I can’t walk away from it until I see how it ends. This doesn’t happen often. I am lucky enough to have been given access to both the audio and digital review copies. I haven’t been able to learn who the narrator is, but whoever he is, he’s good.

I just read of Perry’s sudden death while writing this review. He was such a force within the world of mystery writers that I can hardly believe it. While this book wasn’t the best thing he ever wrote, it is still quite good.

The Hadacol Boogie, by James Lee Burke*****

Posted on by

The Hadacol Boogie is the 25th in the Dave Robicheaux series, and in some regards, it is the best. My great thanks go to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

All of the books in this series boast complex plots and resonant characters. Particularly rich is the relationship between Dave and his former cop partner, Clete Purcel, whom he has known since early childhood. In most stories, Clete is a loose cannon—the reason he is no longer a cop, but a private eye—and Dave is his moderating influence.  “For whatever reason, Clete could not resist swatting a hornet’s nest wherever he went.“  But this story presents a shift, in which Dave is not fully in control of his own behavior. I have never seen anyone else, whether writing fiction or nonfiction, refer to a “dry drunk,” which is when a recovering alcoholic, without having consumed alcohol, exhibits the behaviors of a drunk, with terrible impulse control and bouts of rage. Dave does some of that here, and Clete is the one to rein him in.

But that isn’t the greatest thing about this story, to be honest. I’m ready to be done with mysteries involving alcoholic protagonists, and so Burke’s excellent writing skills prevent me from throwing up my hands or rolling my eyes, but the “dry drunk” isn’t a compelling part of the narrative for me. No, apart from the fact that Burke is a compelling craftsman—the Denver Post once called him “America’s best writer”—this particular novel is interesting to me because Burke has, at last, developed a female character that doesn’t fit into the Madonna-whore dichotomy that marks most of his earlier work. (An earlier exception is Dave’s boss, Helen, but it feels as if Burke is cheating a little bit there. I enjoy reading about Helen, but it’s clear that the one and only reason she isn’t dying to hop in bed with Dave, like every other female character has, or has wanted to, is because she is a lesbian.) Valerie Benoit is Dave’s new partner. It doesn’t take long for us to be aware that Detective Benoit has a thing for Dave. She’s young, he’s 60, but damn, he’s such a hot guy. At this point I’m ready to toss my reader across the room. Please, no! No! But the story doesn’t follow the trajectory that other women tend to do in Robicheaux’s books. Benoit wants Dave badly, yes, and I wish he’d left that out of this, but he didn’t. The thing that makes this story different is that Benoit is developed as a character should be; her love for Robicheaux isn’t all that we learn about her, nor necessarily the most important. And she and Dave don’t land in bed.

How cool is it for a highly successful writer to show this kind of growth when he’s past 80? I am so damn impressed, and I hope that we continue to see Benoit, not as his wife or his lover, but as a separate character with an independent identity.

I confess that I have never understood the culture of the place where this story unfolds; there are social formalities and intricacies mentioned that simply don’t apply in 2026 Seattle. I suspect these niceties also apply to the author, so it’s just as well I haven’t met him; I have no doubt I’d stick my foot in it, probably sooner rather than later.

Like the other books in this series, this one will appeal most to readers that lean a bit to the left, and that enjoy a literary mystery. There’s plenty of action here, but those that don’t want descriptive settings and allegory should probably go find themselves something else to read.

This book can certainly be read as a standalone, but it will resonate even more to the faithful that have read some or all of the series, as it does build on earlier events. Highly recommended.

My Documents, by Kevin Nguyen***-****

Posted on by

3.5 stars, rounded upwards.

My Documents is the sophomore novel of author Kevin Nguyen. This story reimagines the internment of Japanese-American citizens during World War II, asking instead, what if it was happening now, and what if those imprisoned were of Vietnamese descent?

My thanks go to Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. This book is available to the public now.

Our protagonists are four young people, all of whom are cousins with the same last name as the author. Ursula is an ambitious journalist living in Manhattan; Jen attends New York University, partly because she hopes to connect more often with Ursula. Alvin is an engineering intern at Google; Duncan is still in high school. When the internment comes, Ursula and Alvin are spared, but Jen and Duncan are forced into a concentration camp.

This book is imaginative, and I liked the characters. We see how the internment affects those that are imprisoned, but also how their internment affects Ursula and Alvin on the outside; ultimately, of course, the family’s dynamics are altered forever.

The humor that is highlighted in the synopsis failed to materialize for me. There was the odd chuckle or two, but no more than I would expect to find in any novel.  This is pretty common. However, I found myself feeling a bit cheated at the end, because there was so much more that could have been done here. I felt as if a real statement could have been made, but the opportunity was squandered.

Nevertheless, I see Nguyen as a promising author, and one whose work I will continue to follow.

Words for My Friends: A Political History of Tupac Shakur***-****

Posted on by

3.75 stars, rounded up.

Tupac Shakur lived for just 25 years, but he left an outsized legacy. Author Dean Van Nguyen has published a “political history,” a biography of sorts focusing on Tupac’s political ideology and the foundation on which it was formed. My thanks go to NetGalley and Doubleday for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Van Nguyen begins his narrative with an overview of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and ‘60s.  This is an area I’ve studied fairly closely, and so there was no new information in it for me, but I could see its value in a community college Black Studies or general history course. Once we’re past that, we enter into Tupac’s family background, and from there forward, his personal and political upbringings are intertwined. His parents were members of the Black Panthers, a militant, armed group of rebels seeking to force equity for Black people in the U.S. from a government that was long on promises and short on substance. There is a tremendous amount of the book given to the history of the Panthers, and most of what is recounted occurs either before Tupac was born, or while he was an infant.

Here’s my takeaway: I have often been curious about the Panthers, whose struggle I knew in broad strokes, but few specifics, and so this is interesting to me. But the book’s title has led me to believe that this book is primarily about Tupac, and we are at around the 40% before he even comes into the narrative. This is my sole complaint about this work, but it’s a significant one. Had the title been clearer that this is really a history of Tupac and the Black Panthers, I probably would have still read it, but because of the way it’s promoted, I feel frustrated when the 20% mark goes on by, then the 30% mark, and apart from a brief reference or two, Tupac isn’t even in it. In fact, we learn more about his mother than we do about him.

Once we do get to the meat of the matter, this is riveting material. What a gifted man he was, and yet he was still coming of age when he died. He loved reading classical literature, and he attended a fine arts high school where he was better able to develop his interests and talents, playing in Shakespearean productions; but as is often the case for children in low-income households, about the time he put down roots and made connections, his mother had to give up their lodgings, and that meant moving to a new town and a new school.

 This happens again and again. Single motherhood is hard anyway, but once you bring crack into it, the game’s all but over. And (here I suppress a primal scream,) because his father isn’t there and his mother is struggling, Tupac believes he must take care of his mother and long, long before he is old enough to bear such a burden. Teachers everywhere have seen that kid. He might be Black, Caucasian, or any other ethnic and racial background; he might be a she, for that matter. But children that take the responsibility that belongs to the head of the household are under a whole lot of stress, and the fracture lines often don’t show in their teens. They look as if they’re handling the job like an adult, often being praised by those in authority for their organization and focus. But—ask a social worker here—when they hit their twenties, that’s when they start falling apart. Because kids cannot be adults. When they are forced into the role, it will break them, sooner or later. And it seems clear to me that this is part of what led to Tupac’s early demise.

There’s a lot of interesting material packed into the relatively small part of the book that he occupies. We learn about the other famous performers he meets and befriends, first in school, then professionally, and about the political ideas he explores, serving for a while as a member and organizer of the local chapter of the Communist Party’s youth group. His willingness to dive deep into ethical and political ideas is reflected in his music, and to my knowledge, there is no other rapper that has included respect for women, along with an overtly pro-choice message, in their recordings. But just as his star begins to rise in earnest, he is killed.

Those considering reading this book should either be ready to read extensively about peripheral issues and events that don’t directly include Tupac, or should be ready to get the book with the intention of skipping a lot of material. As for me, I’m glad I read it.

Apostle’s Cove, by William Kent Krueger****-*****

Posted on by

Apostle’s Cove is the 20th novel in the Cork O’Connor mystery series by William Kent Krueger. The series takes place in a fictional town of Aurora, Minnesota near an Indian Reservation. Most of the characters are all or partly Ojibwe (also known as Chippewa, or Shinnob). Apostle’s Cove is an area with spectacular views, and it is home to the malign widow of an enormously wealthy man, who built a mansion there.

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

This story commences with Cork receiving a call from his son, Stephen, who’s working with The Great North Innocence Project, an organization that helps people that have been wrongly convicted. Cork is a restauranteur and private detective now, but Stephen tells him that during his time as sheriff, Cork sent an innocent man to prison. For 25 years, Axel Boshey has been serving out a lifetime term for a murder he didn’t commit. He confessed to it in order to shield the person he thought to be the actual killer. Now Stephen wants Cork to go back, untangle the mess, and get Axel out of lockup.

The story—and the series—is helped considerably by its appealing recurring characters. The two most compelling ones are the very oldest—Henry Meloux, an ancient wise man that lives in the forest and counsels those that seek his help—and the very youngest, the seven-year-old grandson affectionately known as Waaboo, a child with supernatural powers to whom the spirits speak.

Halloween is fast approaching, and there is great excitement as the small community prepares for it. Waaboo is excited, yet also troubled. The Windigo, a cannibalistic spirit, is nearby, and it’s hungry. It isn’t here for Waaboo, but nevertheless, he is disturbed by it.

The story is complex and, in most regards, believable. I read multiple books at a time, but while I read this one, the others became sidelined much of the time. This series is reliably well written and entertaining, and so it is with Apostle’s Cove.

Can you jump in mid-series? I did. I began reading it with the 18th in the series. Whereas it’s more fun once you recognize the characters, there’s nothing that will confuse a new reader.

Highly recommended to those that enjoy the genre.

Fever Beach, by Carl Hiaasen**-***

Posted on by

What happened? I used to absolutely love novels by Carl Hiaasen. In his most recent release, Fever Beach, we see a conflict between good—in the person of our main character, Viva Morales—and evil, played by a variety of Proud Boys wannabees and other undesirables. The good person is always good; the bad guys have no redeeming qualities. Only Viva’s ex-husband is a dynamic character.

Still, my thanks go to Doubleday and NetGalley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

As I read, I keep reminding myself that this is not a book I’m supposed to take too seriously, to lighten up and just roll with it. I certainly used to do so when reading Hiaasen’s work. But perhaps because of the stereotyping and complete lack of nuance, what might otherwise have seemed droll and satirical, instead comes across like a whole lot of cheap shots fired off the bow.

Mind you, I am certainly not a fan of ultraright organizations, and the rising tide of bigotry, fascist ideology and anti-Semitism concerns me greatly. But in an already highly polarized nation and world, all I can think as I read is that this story isn’t helping. It is the snobbery and elitism of the highly educated that has driven a large number of folks into the arms of extreme right; some intelligently reject the elitism and cancel culture consciously, but they aren’t in this book. In real life, those that are poorly educated and/or intellectually handicapped, as the bad guys in this book are, would in most cases give their right arms to wake up “clever” like Viva.  It strikes me as counterproductive to write a book that makes fun of right-wing intolerance, while practicing intolerance from a different angle.

Back in the day, before anyone judged anyone else by the color of their hat, I used to roar with laughter at this author’s work. Did it change, or did I? I would like to think it is the former.

I rated this book 2.5 stars and have rounded it upward, more from a fondness of his early novels than anything else. I do recall reading another of his more recent books—not for review, but just because I felt like it—and saw some of the same problems, so I will tell you that this book will probably work for you if you enjoyed his last one. Apart from that, I cannot recommend it.

The Family Recipe, by Carolyn Huynh*****

Posted on by

“We all need to feel needed. Otherwise, what’s the point of living?”

Carolyn Huynh made her authorial debut in 2022 with The Fortunes of Jaded Women. It was one of my favorite novels not only of that year, but of all the thousand-plus galleys I have read since I began reviewing. She’s back again with The Family Recipe, and it’s every bit as good as the first. My thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the invitation to read and review, but make no mistake: I would have hunted this thing down and bought it with my Social Security check if it came down to it. I wouldn’t have been sorry, either.

This book is available to the public now.

Once again, our protagonists are Vietnamese and Vietnamese-Americans, mostly women, and once again, they are siblings and other family members that must come together; it isn’t a voluntary reunion. And that’s where the similarities between the first book and this one end.

Duc Tran, the patriarch, has laid out the terms by which his children may inherit his fortune. Once upon a time, he was the Vietnamese sandwich king, and in order to become his heir, each of his four daughters must relocate to a city she doesn’t want to live in, and revive a down-at-the-heels restaurant in a now undesirable end of town. It’s a contest; that is, unless Duc’s one son, Jude, succeeds in getting married within the one year’s time limit of the contest. If he can do that, he wins. (His sisters aren’t worried; who would marry Jude?)

The story is told from several points of view; these include the siblings, their uncle—a shady lawyer, and Duc’s best friend; their mother, who abandoned them when they were small, when her mental health collapsed, and never went back; Duc’s second wife; and briefly, Duc himself, who mostly serves as a mysterious figure that doesn’t even return to the States to lay out his children’s requirements, sending their uncle as his proxy.  As the story unfolds, we learn more about each sibling, and about the traumas they have experienced, as well as their successes.

The thing that makes it work so well is Huynh’s unerring sense of timing. It’s a dramatic tale, but it’s shot full of humor, as we see at the outset, when we learn the sisters’ names. Their father was a huge fan of the Beatles, and so the girls are named Jane, Paulina, Georgia, and (wait for it…) Bingo!

There are plenty of twists and turns, and the dialogue crackles. The internal monologues are mesmerizing. This book would make a fantastic movie.

Since I was reading this galley digitally, I highlighted quotes that I thought I’d like to use in this review, but there are 28 of them. Obviously, I cannot share them all here, but let that inform you, if nothing else here has, how much I love this book.

Highly recommended to anyone that has a beating heart, at least a passing interest in Vietnamese-American culture and/or family stories, and can use a few good laughs.

The Doorman, by Chris Pavone*****

Posted on by

“It’s up to everyone to draw a line, and hold it.”

Chris Pavone writes white-knuckle thrillers, and he’s one of the best in the business. His new novel, The Doorman, is one you won’t want to miss. My thanks go to NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Farrar, Strauss and Giroud for the review copies; this book will be available to the public May 20, 2025.

Our story rotates around three main characters, providing the point of view of each in turn; the setting is The Bohemia, an exclusive apartment building in New York City. Julian Sonnenberg, a middle aged art gallerist whose marriage is dying, lives there, as does Emily Longsworth, wife of the ultra-wealthy and ultra-hated Whit Longworth, racist war profiteer; and Chicky Diaz is the doorman, who sees all and hears all. They don’t know it yet, but their fates will soon be linked.

I’ve been reading Pavone’s novels for a long time, and each time he surpasses himself. The common thread that I treasure most, however, is his deep affinity for the working class, and his respect for women. In fact, I don’t know of any male novelist that is better than Pavone when it comes to developing female characters, and that is even more impressive when I consider his genre, because in most true thrillers, the pace is so fast and furious that there’s no time to develop any characters at all. Yet somehow, Pavone does it, and he does it without sacrificing the heart pounding, screaming pace that accelerates until the almost unbearable climax, which in turn is very close to the conclusion.

I was lucky enough to have access to both the digital and audio versions of this story; Edoardo Ballerini does a fine job narrating the latter. You can’t go wrong in either direction.

Highly recommended to those that love the genre and lean to the left.

The Ballad of Jacquotte Delahaye**-***

Posted on by

The Ballad of Jacquotte Delahaye marks Briony Cameron’s authorial debut. She is a talented wordsmith, and my thanks go to Atria Books and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. While I enjoyed several exciting passages—I do adore a good pirate tale—in the end there were issues with credibility that got in my way.

 This story of a pirate woman’s derring do is for sale now.

When I read that Jacquotte Delahaye was a real person and that the book is based on true events, I was all in. However, there are passages that made me raise an eyebrow, and since there didn’t seem to be any notes that would indicate what is true and what is the author’s invention, I took to Google to find out more. This is where I learned that actually, she may have been a real person, or she may be only legend. The stories surrounding her life and exploits are also legend. There’s virtually no verified historical information on this character.

I love good historical fiction, which is where actual, documented facts are given warmth and life by an author that adds dialogue and perhaps fleshes out a few areas where the record is sketchy. Then, if the author is sharp and professional, there will be end notes that explain what is a matter of historical record, and what has been invented. That’s my happy place. Even better is when sources are provided for interested readers. Of course, a writer of any kind of fiction isn’t required to provide footnotes or other documentation, but when they do, it’s the cherry on the sundae, and it makes me love them all the more.

Because this story is not nearly as closely aligned to historical record as the promotional materials would have me believe, I nearly dropped my rating to two stars. I felt, and still feel, that the synopsis provided is misleading. I don’t like feeling as if I’ve been played. However, I realize that the author probably is not in charge of her own promotional blurb, and I can’t see penalizing her for what the publicist has chosen to do.

Do I recommend this story? Not so much. Had it been written in such a skillful way that I felt no need to do research of my own, I might not know that this is pure fiction based on little more than speculation. That’s not the case, though. It doesn’t ring true in a number of places, and that’s partly because it isn’t. However, should the reader decide to pursue it, I would advise that you get this book free or cheap, unless your resources are endless ones. Don’t pay full cover price.