Sunday, December 31, 2023

1174 - 1182 (2023 #46-#54). December 2023


So now it's December, and I feel like I can read some Christmas-themed books.


The Cowboy Cookie Challenge by Lori Wilde

I try to read one of Lori Wilde's Christmas-themed Twilight, Texas romance books each year, and this one was available at one of my libraries.  I started reading these books in 2014, when Wilde visited my town of Granbury, Texas (the inspiration for Twilight), in the holiday season as part of a promotion, and my (then) book club was the (nominal) host for a meet-and-greet.  

The Cowboy Cookie Challenge revisits some of the characters in The First Love Cookie Club, the first book I read in this series.  That book was published in 2010, and one of the characters was a little girl (about age 8) named Jazzy (Jasmine) Walker.  Well, she is one of the main characters in this story, and is now age 23 and a pediatric nurse at the local hospital.  (Her stepmom, Sarah, the heroine in First Love, is also a character.)

Jazzy meets handsome, widowed Roan Sullivan while caring for his daughter Trinity during a tonsillectomy - she catches him when he almost faints.  She's attracted, despite a nine-year age difference, even though she's waiting to hear about a job with traveling nurses.  Jazzy is eager to get out of town and escape her former boyfriend, Danny - and his fiancé, Jazzy's former best friend (and current co-worker), Andi.

But before she goes, Jazzy feels compelled to beat Andi at SOMEthing, so she enters the cooking baking contest that Andi wins every year.  This time, though, the cookies must be baked cowboy-style - over a campfire - and it just so happens Roan (and his deceased wife Claire) used to give instruction in and win cowboy cooking challenges all the time.  Jazzy convinces Roan to prepare her for the contest - and you can imagine what happens from there.

The snow-covered scene of the front cover isn't typical for our holiday season, but it's a Christmas story, so there's gotta be snow, at least on the front cover.  (There is a weekend ice storm, but as the author writes on page 279, that - and the balmy weather that immediately follows, is "typical of December in North Texas.")

There's some sex (that the ice storm facilitates) and the romance is predictable (although this one only has a few tropes I can identify: widower cowboy/rancher and child care/first responder aka pediatric nurse have an age gap fling in a small town during the holidays).  Nevertheless, I enjoyed seeing old characters from former books reappearing, and matching up places like "Ye Old Book Nook in the town square" (page 56) with reality.  

This is the 13th novel in the Twilight, Texas series (there are also two novellas, and a collection of four short stories).  They do not have to be read in order, although the later novels are more enjoyable (because of the character connections) if they are.  This was an easy, light read, perfect for the holiday season.

I understand that the novel that came out this year (2023) will be the last in the series.  Granbury (Twilight) has changed a lot in the past few years, and not for the best (think Stewart Rhodes of the Oathkeepers and January 6, and other right-wingers who've gained control of county government; banned books in the schools and public library; making schools and other places unwelcome for the LGBQT+ community - could a Charlie from this book every really live here? - and such a focus on tourism and the property "rights" of people who don't even live in the town but own short-term rentals here).  It's lost a lot of its magic for me, and maybe it did for Lori Wilde, too.


The Christmas Letters by Lee Smith

I had a couple other books by Lee Smith on my to-read list, and this one came up as available now, so being the appropriate season, I checked out The Christmas Letters.  It's a epistolary novella told through (mostly) Christmas letters to friends and family from 1944 to 1996 (not every year though), written by a woman (Birdie), one of her daughters (Mary), and one of her granddaughters (Melanie).  As I've been writing a Christmas newsletter (now mostly e-mailed rather than snail-mailed with my cards) since 1987, I could relate, although some of these letters were far more detailed - and revelatory of character - than anything I write.  

Birdie's letters, beginning as a young mother living with her in-laws far from her home while her husband Bill serves in World War II, were the most interesting.  They end with Bill's death in 1967, and Mary begins writing letters the same year.  Her letters, reflecting a lot of societal changes, end with a New Year's letter in 1995, and there is one letter from Melanie for the next year.  

Each letter ends with a recipe.  The book was a quick read, but felt a little lacking - maybe because there wasn't enough of Melanie's life in it.  But the book was published in 1996, the same year as Melanie's single letter.  


My Big Fantastic Family by Adam Guillain and Charlotte Guillain, illustrated by Ali Pye

This is a sweet story about a little girl, Lily May, whose parents separate, and her dad moves out.  Her mom has a new partner with two sons, and soon he and his parents become part of Lily May's family.  Meanwhile, Lily May regularly sees her dad (and his new cat), and the whole group gathers for Lily May's birthday party. The story is told in a simple four-line rhyme scheme (quatrains with ABCB rhyming), and the colorful illustrations depict the diverse characters in this blended family.


Lady Clementine by Marie Benedict

Lady Clementine is a fictionalized partial biography about Clementine Hozier Churchill, wife of British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, from their meeting and marriage in 1908, through the end of World War II in Europe in 1945.  

I'm not particularly fond of Marie Benedict's style for her biographical novels - telling the story in first person and present tense.  Each chapter begins with a date (or dates) and location(s), but using present tense makes the chapters seem less like the journal entries such chapter headings might imply.

However, I do like that Benedict writes about little-known women whose accomplishments are usually overshadowed by their more famous husbands, or other men they work with.

This book does make me want to read the biographies of her parents by (and memoir of) the Churchills' daughter Mary, which Benedict cites as some of her sources in her afterword, to learn more.


Annie Bot by Sierra Greer

I don't read much science fiction or fantasy, but from its descriptionAnnie Bot sounded interesting.  So I entered a giveway for it, and won.

Annie is a "Cuddle Bunny" model of a "Stella," a female robot optimized for sex.  She's also an autodidact.  Despite having a pretty decent vocabulary, I had to look that word up.  It means she learns on her own, rather than being taught by someone.  In other words, she's AI - artificial intelligence.

Her owner is Doug, who bought a Stella and had her customized to resemble his ex-wife.  He seems to still be working through some issues from his marriage in his relationship with Annie, whose programming is set to please him.  Annie becomes confused and upset when she (usually inadvertently) fails to do so.

Early on in the book, Annie is tempted into doing something that would greatly displease Doug - if he knew about it.  She's told (page 26 in the advance reader edition) that "a secret will make you real...a lie will make you real, even if you never have to say it aloud.  That'll be nice for Doug, actually."

Trouble is, Doug is a manipulative, self-centered jerk.  "'I want you to stand there and think about how you've made me feel,' he says. [on page 60] 'And I feel like shit.'"  This when he punishes her by making her stay in her charging dock for a week, while having sex with a second Stella he's purchased - an "Abigail" optimized for cleaning and cooking, things Annie doesn't do very well.

It was fascinating to see how Annie becomes more human as the book continues.  I also like how she reads all 783 books (page 152) that he owns - and they become an escape for Annie in her painful relationship with Doug.

Told entirely from Annie's viewpoint, this was a intrigung book from debut author Sierra Greer, with a lot to say about self-awareness and human relationships (including abusive ones), as well as AI.  I definitely recommend it, and will likely read it again.


The Last Girls by Lee Smith

In the summer of 1965, twelve girls from a women's college, inspired by reading Huckleberry Finn in an American literature class, decide to recreate his ride down a raft on the Mississippi.  Thirty-four years later, four of them - Harriet, Courtney, Anna, and Catherine - agree to meet on a steamboat cruise from Memphis to New Orleans, to spread the ashes of a fifth, their former roommate/suitemate, Baby (aka Margaret).  She had died recently in a car wreck, and her widower had requested that they do this.

The cruise provides the framework for their reminisces of that 1965 trip (and other college activities), as well as their own individual pasts and presents.  Each chapter is told from the viewpoint of a different girl, and there are even some chapters told from the viewpoint of Russell, Catherine's third husband, who came with her on the trip.  

Harriet is a college teacher, never married.  Courtney's still married to the man she dropped out of college to wed, but he's cheated on her for years - so she's also had a long-standing affair going on.  Anna is divorced and a successful romance writer, and Catherine is a sculptor.  Harriet and Anna were scholarship students, while the other three came from wealthy families.  

All of the women are Southerners (from Virginia, West Virginia, Alabama, and North Carolina), and the cruise of course is in the deep South, and writing about Southerners and the South is author Lee Smith's forte.  The novel was inspired by a similar raft trip she took with Hollins College classmates in 1966, although she makes clear in the acknowledgments (page 383) that the book is "truly fiction....but the idea of river journey as metaphor for the course of women's lives has intrigued me for years."

They're the "last girls," because, according to Harriet (page 71), "they'd call us women in the newspaper if it [the raft trip] happened now."

I enjoyed this book.  I could relate to the characters to some extent, despite being about 12 years younger.  I went to an all-girls high school in Houston, where many of the girls were wealthy, but I was on scholarship.  Our high school still offered home economics classes then (they haven't for some time).  There was a group of eight to ten of us who were close in high school and college, but drifted apart as we got older - especially in my case, as I was the one who didn't return to our hometown after college, eventually living over 2000 miles away for over 20 years.  Like the women in the book, I wasn't especially close to any of these girls 34 years later.

I also enjoyed the snippets of a cruise experience in the book, and could relate to those.  Although I've never been on a Mississippi riverboat cruise (but would like to go), the Caribbean and Hawaii cruises I've been on had a lot of similarities.  Particularly funny was the couple who shared a dinner table with the five women and Russell (who, by the way, was a hoot).

I did at times have trouble following the quick switches between past and present in the chapters, and I don't understand why Smith felt a need to add a chapter at the end (after the end of the cruise) that summarized the lives of the other seven girls on the 1965 raft trip.  And I also felt the book left some questions - what did Harriet and Courtney end up doing in New Orleans - and how did Baby really die?


The Christmas Backup Plan by Lori Wilde

Unlike The Cowboy Cookie Challenge that I read earlier this month, this book does not have characters from earlier books in the Twilight series as major players.  In fact, this book could also be categorized as part of the Cupid, Texas series, in that it stars the fourth Lockhart brother and the fourth Alzate sister from three earlier novels in that series.  

So where does Twilight [aka my current town of Granbury, Texas] come in?  The premise is that wedding planner Aria Alzate is recovering from a concussion, and is the wedding planner for a college friend's pre-Christmas wedding in Twilight.  Remington Lockhart has recently returned to the family ranch near the fictional Cupid, which is based on Fort Davis, the seat of the real Jeff Davis County, in the Trans-Pecos region of West Texas.  He's out of the Army after a bad parachute jump left him missing two fingers, and is recruited to take Aria on the long drive (which takes nearly seven hours, from Fort Davis to Granbury).

The story is told in third person, with chapters alternating between Aria and Remington.  They have known each other since childhood, but are very different.  She's fun-loving and spontaneous, preferring to be adaptable rather than stick to set plans.  Because of his earlier life in the Army - and perhaps due to losing his mother at a young age - he's more serious, and believes in planning for every possible outcome - having a backup (or three).

They get to know (and maybe understand) each other better on the long drive, and in observing interactions with other people.  A spur-of-the-moment exit from the freeway puts them in the small fictional town of Armadillo (!), where they get stuck after helping a driver who slid off the road in the increasingly icy conditions.  Lucky for them, Remington booked a room in various towns along their route, just in case.  However, the room just has one bed, and there are no other rooms or beds available.

Long story short - fabulous sex ensues.  And wouldn't you know, when they get to Twilight, they have separate rooms - but they adjoin.  Both are convinced, though, that although they definitely have chemistry, they're too different to be together, and they return to Cupid separately.  It takes them until New Year's Eve to figure out their differences are actually complementary.

Lots of romance tropes in this one:  grumpy/sunshine opposites attract on a holiday road trip fling - he's a scarred military cowboy/rancher, both are afraid to commit, and there's only one bed when they're trapped by an ice storm.  They are fated mates due to a magic spell - there's a (silly) Alzate family legend involving hearing a humming sound when you kiss your true love - which is what united the other Lockhart brothers and Alzate sisters in marriage.


Her Hidden Genius by Marie Benedict

Her Hidden Genius is a fictionalized partial biography about scientist Rosalind Franklin.  She did much of the research on the structure of DNA in the 1950s in England, only to have most of her work credited to James Watson, Francis Crick, and Maurice Wilkins (the latter an obnoxious co-worker of hers), who won the 1962 Nobel Prize for Medicine "for their discoveries concerning the molecular structure of nucleic acids and its significance for information transfer in living material."

I'm not particularly fond of Marie Benedict's style for her biographical novels - telling the story in first person and present tense.  Each chapter begins with a date (or dates) and location(s), but using present tense makes the chapters seem less like the journal entries such chapter headings might imply.  Although the book only covers the last 11 years of Franklin's too-short life, it's over 300 pages long, and feels repetitious at times.

However, I do like that Benedict writes about little-known women whose accomplishments are often overshadowed by men - co-workers or spouses.  Franklin's story is particularly sad and frustrating.

A better source on Franklin is probably Rosalind Franklin and DNA, a biography by her friend, journalist Anne Sayre, which Benedict cites as one of her sources in her author's note.


Home is Calling:  The Journey of the Monarch Butterfly by Katherine Pryor, illustrated by Ellie Peterson.

This is a colorful children's picture book about monarch butterflies and the 3,000-mile journey they take each autumn, from their spring and summer grounds in eastern United States and southern Canada, to their winter home in Mexico.

The simple story at the beginning, with its vibrant illustrations, makes the book accessible to younger children, while the four pages at the end make the book relevant for older children, by providing additional factual information (such as the suggestion to plant milkweed, used by monarchs in nearly all stages of their life cycles).

I live in a flyway area for these migrating monarchs, so this book was of particular interest to me.  In addition, author and good food advocate Katherine Pryor, and illustrator and science teacher Ellie Peterson live in Seattle, which was my home for 20+ years.

This book would be great for a science classroom and lessons on life cycles and threatened species.  It's also a lovely addition to any library or personal bookshelf. 


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Thursday, November 30, 2023

1166 - 1173 (2023 #38-#45). November 2023

Anything But Yes by Joie Davidow

Anything But Yes is Joie Davidow's novelization of the 1749 account by Anna Del Monte, a Roman Jew, of her 13-day incarceration in the Casa dei Catecumeni

Anna, an educated, unmarried daughter of a prominent and wealthy family in Rome's Jewish ghetto, is taken by force from her home.  She is confined to a small cell, where she is subjected to isolation, sleep and food deprivation, and endless talking from various priests and nuns, trying to convert her to Christianity.  If she said the word "yes" in any circumstance, it would be taken as an agreement to convert - which meant she would never see her beloved family again - hence the title of the book.  Anna is ultimately released when it is determined a young male convert, trying to get back at her family, falsely claimed she was his bride-to-be.  

Anna's account was edited by her brother Tranquillo in 1793, after Anna's death.  He made seven copies, with one rediscovered almost 200 years later in a private collection in Jerusalem, by Italian scholar Giuseppe Sermoneta.  Sermoneta published an annotated edition in Italian in 1989, which was Davidow's inspiration, according to her afterword (p. 226 in my advance reader edition).

In 2016, scholar Kenneth R. Stow published an English translation of Anna'a account as part of his book, Anna and Tranquillo (which was also one of Davidow's sources).  Even with numerous footnotes, Anna's account only runs 34 pages.  Most of it can be read in Google Books (starting on page 20), and other parts are available in the transcripts of Accessing Anna, an "audio reconstruction" of Anna's experiences by Ariana Ellis.  

Based on these latter two sources, I feel Davidow is very true to the original material.  She has added depth and breadth from her own research (sources listed in the acknowledgments), with descriptions of life in the Roman Jewish ghetto in that era, and by developing the characters of Anna and her family members.  The book is well-written and fascinating.  There's a glossary of Hebrew, Italian, and ghetto dialect words at the end of the book, but I found I could interpret most meanings from the context.


The Big Bang and Other Farts by Daisy Bird, illustrated by Marianna Coppo

I requested The Big Bang and Other Farts from the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program because I could see it as a great future gift for my currently 19-month-old great-grandson or 17-month-old great-nephew.  I'm a little surprised at other reviewers who seemed to expect a nonfiction book, or something more educational.  The description of the book on the request pages did not imply that it was supposed to be either.

An anthropomorphic animal dad and his two kids are on a sofa with popcorn to watch a documentary.  Various events in science and history are explained as having been caused by a fart, much to Dad's chagrin and the kids' amusement.  The text by author Daisy Bird (a pen name for Jacky Colliss Harvey) is complemented by the gouache (per the book's verso) artwork by illustrator Marianna Coppo (whose style is not like Corporate Memphis, in my opinion).

Would I buy this book for a school library (or for the teachers-in-training collection I used to manage for a university library)?  Probably not, but mainly because such book budgets tend to be limited (mine certainly was).  Would I buy it for a public library or for a young child?  Yes.  Not every book needs to be educational.  Sometimes they're just for fun.


My Brigadista Year by Katherine Paterson

I requested My Brigadista Year, by two-time Newbery-medalist Katherine Paterson, from the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program back in September 2017, but never received it from the publisher.  I was able to check out the book recently from my library's e-book collection.

This was a fascinating historical novel for young people about the Cuban literacy campaign of 1961.  Thirteen-year-old Havana resident Lora volunteers to become a brigadista, a member of the brigade of young people recruited to teach the illiterate in rural areas how to read and write.  Her not-wealthy family is not enthusiastic about her participation, but were somewhat mollified with the news that Lora would have free secondary and university education if she finished her year of service.

Told in first person, Paterson's novel gives some background on Lora's family and early life, then follows her from her departure from Havana in March 1961, to the Veradero training camp where she learns how to teach, and on ito the Escambray Mountains where she meets her squad at base camp and gets her assignment. (There's a helpful map at the beginning of the book).

Lora lives with the family she's teaching, helping them with daily tasks such as drawing water from the river, and plowing fields.  There's time to socialize with the family and another nearby, as well as the other brigadistas every Sunday at the base camp.  The book also details some of the techniques used to teach and test reading and writing skills.  I especially liked the test that had the students write a letter to Fidel Castro.  Lora has until the end of the program, on December 22, to achieve success with her seven students, six adults and one child.

Paterson provides additional historical background and discusses the sources she used in an author's note at the end of the book.  She also includes a timeline of Cuban history through early 2017.  Written at a fifth-grade reading level, and aimed at middle grades (4th or 5th to 8th or 9th), this is an inspiring book about a youth-centered project, with the important message for all ages that teachers often learn as much from their students as the students do from their teachers.


The Only Way to Make Bread by Cristina Quintero, illustrated by Sarah Gonzales 

This is a lovely picture book by Cristina Quintero, about different ways to make bread - and what they have in common.  My favorite part was the double-page spread near the end with illustrations and descriptions of breads from ten different cultures.  This is followed by recipes for two of them - I wish there were recipes for all ten!  The artwork by Sarah Gonzales "was created with colored pencils, edited digitally and baked until golden brown," according to the verso, and indeed, the overall feel of the illustrations is one of warmth.


The Little Books of the Little Brontës by Sara O'Leary, illustrated by Briony May Smith

This is a book about the childhoods of the four children of the Brontë family who survived into adulthood:  authors Charlotte, Emily, and Anne; and their brother, the artist Branwell.  The four were close, perhaps because two older sisters and their mother had died when the four were still quite young.  They were imaginative, and created miniature books in tiny handwriting for a set of toy soldiers Branwell had.  That might have been the start of the girls' writing careers.  The book ends with instructions for making a miniature book, a note from author Sara O'Leary, a timeline of the Brontës' lives, and a list of sources. 

The mixed media illustrations by Briony May Smith are soft and muted, reflecting their quiet parsonage home and its English moors location.  My favorite illustration is one looking down from above at the four Brontë children eating at the table with their father - with empty chairs for their sisters and mother.  This book should appeal to fans of the Brontës.


Coronation Year by Jennifer Robson

Coronation Year - 1953, the year Elizabeth II was officially crowned - serves as the setting for this piece of historical fiction, but the queen and the events of that day (June 2) are peripheral to this story.  It centers on three main fictional characters, who tell the story from their viewpoints in alternating chapters:

- Edie Howard, who owns and operates the fictional 400-year-old Blue Lion, a struggling hotel she inherited from her parents - that has the great luck to be on the coronation parade route;
- Jamie (James) Geddes, a bomb expert during World War II, now an artist of Scottish and Indian descent, who suffers prejudice due to the latter; and
- Stella Donati, an Italian Jewish photographer now working for the fictional Picture Weekly magazine.

All three are living at the hotel, which also has three other (eccentric) boarders as well as a staff.  The book begins in January, bringing the main characters together and also documenting Edie's efforts to prepare the hotel for the upcoming coronation (and Jamie's and Stella's work related to it).  Unfortunately, there's also someone trying to sabotage the hotel - figuring out who is a major plot line.

The story was rather predictable - the villian and the romances were signaled early on - but it was a fun, quick read nonetheless.  I particularly enjoyed the inclusion of characters from some of Robson's other books that I've read - reporter Ruby Sutton and her love Bennett from Goodnight from London, and Walter "Kaz" Kaczmarek and his wife Miriam Dassin from The Gown.  


Somewhere in France by Jennifer Robson

Somewhere in France was Jennifer Robson's first novel.  Set in World War I, it demonstrates a depth of knowledge of that conflict thanks to the author's father, Professor Stuart Robson, an expert on the topic.  

Lilly (aka Lady Elizabeth Neville-Ashford) always wanted a life beyond the expectations of her titled parents.  Robert "Robbie" Fraser, who met Lilly's older brother Edward at university and became his best friend, has encouraged her.  When he, a surgeon, is sent to France at the outbreak of war, they correspond, and he further encourages her.  Lilly secretly learns to drive on the family's country estate, and ultimately leaves home and moves in with her former governness, Charlotte.  She manages to become an ambulance driver with the British Women's Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC), and to get sent to the same field hospital as Robbie.

Robson doesn't shy away from a vivid and unflinching picture of what the war was like for ambulance drivers, surgeons, nurses, and the wounded.  The romance between Lilly and Robbie is sweet, but somewhat predictable.  


The Only Woman in the Room by Marie Benedict

This is a fictionalized partial biography about the early years (from 1933 to 1942)  of the actress Hedy Lamarr.  Born Hedwig Kiesler in Austria, the book opens with the beautiful Hedy starring in Sissy, a play about Empress Elisabeth of Austria, at age 19 in Vienna.  She has a persistent suitor in the audience, the wealthy weapons manufacturer Fritz Mandl,   She agrees to marry him with hopes that he can protect her Jewish parents from the encroaching German Nazis.

Hedy lives a life of luxury - and mostly boredom - with Fritz, who doesn't allow her to continue acting.  They host parties for Mussolini, Hitler, and other fascists.  Hedy learns a lot about what may be coming to Austria just by listening and playing the role of the decorative wife.  Eventually, Mandl's control of her becomes unbearable, and she escapes, ultimately arriving in Hollywood and starting a film career.

Still cast mostly as a pretty face, Hedy finds fulfillment tinkering with inventions.  She worked with her friend, the composer and pianist George Antheil, to develop a radio guidance system for Allied torpedoes that used a code (stored on a punched paper tape) to synchronize frequency changes, referred to as frequency hopping, between the transmitter and receiver, reducing the chances that the signals might be tracked or jammed.  They actually received a patent for the invention, but it was not adopted by the U. S. Navy - the implication being that it was because Lamarr was a woman, and an actress to boot.  That conclusion - and the premise that Lamarr felt compelled to find a solution to the torpedo signal-jamming problems due to supposed guilt over not doing more to stop Hitler's advance into Austria - were rather far-fetched.

Told in first person, I was disappointed with the writing in this book.  Nevertheless, I'm glad I read it and learned more about Hedy Lamarr's background and invention.



© Amanda Pape - 2023

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

1165 (2023 #37). October 2023

We were on a road trip the first 17 days of this month, so I only read one book.

Homecoming by Kate Morton

I won this book in a contest in a publisher's e-mail newsletter, where I enter the drawings for every book that looks remotely interesting.  While many readers have tagged this book as historical fiction (probably due to the dual storylines, from 1959-60 and 2018, both set mostly in Australia), I felt it was more of a mystery.

The 2018 story features almost-40 Jess Turner-Bridges, the granddaughter of Nora and daughter of Polly.  Nora's had a fall and is in the hospital, and Jess returns to Sydney, Australia from her home in London to be with the grandmother who mostly raised her, as Polly (who lives in Brisbane) is somewhat estranged from both Nora and Jess.

Jess is trying to figure out what upset her grandmother enough to send her up into the attic, causing the fall.  Jess finds a book about the 1959 Christmas Eve murder/suicide of Isabel Turner and three of her four children (the youngest, a six-week old baby, missing from the scene), and realizes that the Nora in the book, sister-in-law to Isabel, is her Nora.  The book, by a now-dead (fictional) Daniel Miller, is "true crime" with fiction narrative techniques to dramatize it.  He follows the official investigation, and does a lot of investigating and interviewing on his own.  Whole chapters of Miller's "book" are yet another narrative thread in this one.

The story is told from multiple points of view (in both time periods), is rather long, and somewhat confusing, especially at the beginning.  I figured out part of the mystery pretty quickly, but was still surprised by a few more plot points (the "hows" and the "whys") at the end.  The desire to find those out kept me reading.

I will say that the Miller-"authored" parts in the book annoyed me.  We have a writer in our town who embellishes his local history posts with invented dialogues and "additional literary items ... added to improve your understanding and enjoyment of this true-life adventure," as well as AI-generated illustrations.  I think he's misleading readers, and that annoys me too.


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Friday, September 29, 2023

1161 - 1164 (2023 #33 - #36) September 2023

The Manhattan Girls by Gill Paul

I'm not exactly sure why I checked out this book at my local public library.  It may have caught my eye in a display, or it may have come up in a search for newly-acquired historical fiction in the library catalog.  At any rate, The Manhattan Girls by Gill Paul was an easy read.

It's set in New York City in the 1920s, in the midst of Prohibition, and is about four real women, none of whom I knew about.  Dorothy Parker was a writer, Jane Grant was the first female reporter for the New York Times and co-founder of The New Yorker magazine, Winifred Lenihan was a Broadway actress, and Peggy Leech was a novelist (and later, a historian).  

These four main characters decide to start a bridge club when some of the men in the (real) "Algonquin Round Table."  start a Saturday poker game - no women allowed.  The story is told in alternating chapters from each woman's viewpoint, always in the order Jane - Dottie - Winifred - Peggy.  The book starts in 1921, but moves rapidly (and rather vaguely) though subsequent years.  

The book is subtitled "A Novel of Dorothy Parker and Her Friends," perhaps because Parker was the best known of the four.  However, I found "Dottie" to be insufferable - selfish, needy, alcoholic, with a number of affairs and suicide attempts.  Why her friends were so devoted to her is unclear to me.

The other three women were much more interesting.  My parents had a subscription to The New Yorker, and I always loved its covers and cartoons, so it was interesting to read about the start of this magazine and Jane's part in it.  Peggy seemed to have the most balanced and happy life of the four women, and was a good friend to all of them in the book.  Winifred was the most intriguing of the four to me, not at all like the stereotypical actress.

The book is also filled with other real persons as characters in the story.  Some, like Eva Le Gallienne and Neysa McMein, were fascinating; others, like Alec Woollcott and Elinor Wylie, were irritating.  

I'm not against drinking, but I was struck by just how much the characters in this book partook.  Seems like there were speakeasys and easy-to-get booze everywhere.  Perhaps it was Prohibition that made drinking more attractive.  It certainly gave a feel for what life was like in big cities in the 1920s - it seemed a lot like Paris in the same era, the setting for so many books about talented (and often free-thinking or free-spirited) people.  Besides this and Dorothy's problems mentioned earlier, there are triggers for other sensitive readers.

The one gripe I have about the book was the lack of an author's note at the end to tell me what was real and what was not, as well as sources her information.  The library copy I read was a large-print version, so perhaps such a note had been cut to keep the page count (and book weight) down, and I couldn't find an e-book that I could check out to see.  I did find an "epilogue" online (it has spoilers) that answered some of my questions, particularly about Winifred.


The Book Woman's Daughter by Kim Michele Richardson

This is a sequel to The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek, which I read last month.  Although it's preferable to have read that book first, it's not necessary - this book can stand alone.  

Still set in eastern Kentucky, the events in this book take place in 1953, almost seventeen years after those in the first book.  Sixteen-year-old Honey Mary-Angeline Lovett is the adopted daughter of "Book Woman" Cussy Mary Carter and her husband Jackson Lovett.  Like her adoptive mother, Honey has a genetic form of methemoglobinemia, having inherited recessive genes from her birth parents.  Her case is milder, as her hands and feet only turn blue when she is agitated or upset, so Honey typically wears gloves everywhere.

Cussy was entirely blue, and considered "colored" in that era, thus hers and (white) Jackson's marriage was a violation of the state's anti-miscegenation law.  After successfully hiding for many years, away from their home in Troublesome Creek but still in Kentucky, they are arrested and sentenced to two years in prison.  Honey manages to escape on Cussy's old mule Junia back to Troublesome Creek, to avoid being sent to the "house of reform" and hard labor until she turns 21.

But Honey has a lot of people helping her, including her own court-appointed lawyer, who actually fights for her.  Her elderly former babysitter is appointed her guardian, but after that woman's death, Honey decides to seek emancipation.  To be successful, she needs to be able to support herself - she needs a job.

Although the Pack Horse Library Project had ended in 1943, author Kim Michele Richardson, a native Kentuckian, has a form of it continuing, and Honey is able to follow in her mother's footsteps as a newly hired rural outreach librarian, once again riding Junia to deliver books to a variety of patrons.

Some of these, like moonshiner Devil John Smith and his family, are former patrons of her mother's.  Others are new - like Pearl, a 19-year-old single fire tower lookout who becomes Honey's best friend; Bonnie, the young widowed mother who took over her dead husband's coal-mining job; and Amara with the Frontier Nursing Service (FNS).  

There are more villains in this book (mostly men), and more situations that will be triggering for some readers.  But the descriptions of people and places in Kentucky are evocative, and make me eager to visit this part of the state on an upcoming road trip.

The book ends with a lengthy author's note about some of the real history in the novel; period images of Pack Horse librarians (and some of the scrapbooks they made, although those images should have been much larger to see the details), FNS nurses, and female coal miners and fire tower lookouts; and some excellent reading group discussion questions.


The Bodyguard Unit by Clement Xavier, illustrated by Lisa Lugrin, colored by Albertine Ralenti, translated by Edward Gauvin - advanced reader edition

The Bodyguard Unit is a nonfiction account in graphic novel format of - as the subtitle describes - Edith Garrud, women's suffrage, and jujitsu - in England in 1910 to 1914.  

Garrud and her husband William were students of the Japanese martial arts who took over their instructor's dojo (school) when he returned to Japan in late 1908.  Emmeline Pankhurst, the leader of the Women's Social and Political Union (WSPU), which often faced violent retaliation (from police and male observers) during their protests, asked Edith to train some of the members in jujitsu to serve as a bodyguard, particularly to prevent Pankhurst's arrest.

The text points out the core principle of jujitsu (using an attacker's force or energy against the attacker), and doesn't shy from the problem of domestic violence and the conflicts within the suffragette movement.  

The illustrations are detailed, but not so busy as to detract from the action and dialogue.  The book is also interspersed with historical illustrations from contemporary newspapers, books, journals, political cartoons, and even a board game (although the list at the end giving their sources does not have correct page numbers in this advance reader edition).  

Sadly, the book does not cite any other sources, but it does end with further information on Emmeline, her daughter Sylvia, and Edith and William, and a timeline of Edith's life.  I was surprised to learn the book was originally written in French - the translation to English by Edward Gauvin is smooth.  

I liked this book, and learned a lot from it about Edith, jujitsu, and the suffragettes in Great Britain, and I'm inspired to learn more.  I think readers ages 13 / grade 7 and up will too.


The Giver of Stars by JoJo Moyes

After reading The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek, by Kim Michele Richardson, I found there was some controversy about possible plagiarism by this book, The Giver of Stars, by better-known author JoJo Moyes.  I decided to read the latter to decide for myself.  

Moyes' book is also set in Kentucky and about the Pack Horse Library Project, a Works Progress Administration (WPA) program where books were delivered to residents in remote areas of Appalachia from 1935 to 1943.  The main character is Alice Wright, an Englishwoman (like Moyes) who married a Kentucky mine owner when he was visiting her country.  Bored, she decides to join the project in her new home of Baileyville.

There are four other women involved with the project, but the one who gets the most print time (other than Alice) is Margery O'Hare, a local single woman from a family with a checkered past.

Moyes primarily writes romance, and that's the emphasis in this book as well.  Both Alice and Margery have love interests (Alice's husband is a cold fish, and her father-in-law a terror), and those storylines dominate the plot.  I'd say this book is more plot-driven, while Richardson's book is more character-driven.  I also felt Richardson's book was better-researched (she's a Kentucky native, and spent nearly five years on her book), and thus a better piece of historical fiction.  I enjoyed Moyes' book, but I prefer Richardson's.

As for the plagiarism?  It's always hard to prove.  Richardson's publisher (which sold a 45% stake to Moyes' publisher the same month Richardson's book was published) determined no legal action was necessary when she brought her concerns to them in August 2019, three months after her book was published, and two months before Moyes' book came out.  What really sucks is that Moyes, likely due to her fame, already had a movie deal for The Giver of Stars before it even came out.

Various sources in the publishing industry indicate that Moyes' team was aware of Richardson's book, despite their protests that they were not.  However, I also agree with another librarian that the stories are very different, and that tropes (plot structures, themes, storylines, character traits, motifs, or plot devices commonly used in storytelling) may account for the similarities.


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Thursday, August 31, 2023

1158 - 1160 (2023 #30 - #32 ). August 2023

The Librarian Spy by Madeline Martin

The title of this book caught my eye while browsing my local public library last month.  Alas, it's not really about a librarian or a spy.  In addition, the book has two main characters, and the other (a woman in the French Resistance in Lyon) is not referenced in the title - and the cover image of two women doesn't reflect her either.

The opening sentence should have tipped me off that this book wasn't quite right for me.  "There was nothing Ava Harper loved more than the smell of old books."  So stereotypical.  In April 1943, Ava is a librarian in the Rare Book Room of the Library of Congress - a dream job.  She's recruited to go to Lisbon, Portugal (a neutral country during World War II) to collect newspapers and other daily publications from local newsstands, to be microfilmed.  The film would be sent back to the United States to be reviewed for clues about the enemy.  So she's not really doing real librarian work any more, and she's not really a spy, at least not in the way one would typically think of a spy.  Disappointing for this retired librarian - who managed archives and special collections (i.e., rare books) as part of her job.

The other storyline involves Helene Belanger, whose husband Joseph, active in the Resistance, is missing.  (The opening sentence for her first chapter is also cliché - "Words had power.")  A woman appears at her door looking for "Pierre," which turns out to be Joseph's code name.  He has been providing fake identification for Jews.  Helene impulsively gives the women her own identity papers.  The next day, her husband's best friend rescues her on the street (she'd been stopped by a Nazi officer), pretending to be her husband and handing her new papers - now she is Elaine Rousseau.  She begins working with the Resistance printing a clandestine newspaper - one that Ava later collects, and that leads to the linking storyline that drives the narrative.

Author Madeline Martin explains in a note at the end she based Ava on real librarians with the real Interdepartmental Committee for the Acquisition of Foreign Publications (IDC), part of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the wartime precursor to the CIA - although she states the IDC "did not send any female operatives to Lisbon."   The character of Helene/Elaine was influenced by Lucienne Guezennec (real name Marie-Antoinette Morat), a member of the French Resistance with very similar experiences.

It was obvious that World War II Lisbon - and Rossio Square and Montserrate Palace in Sintra - were well-researched.  However, Ava's life there seemed a little unreal - her nice apartment, the great food, and especially her romance with the mysterious James from the British Embassy.  I found it hard to believe Ava would have brought or bought formalwear for some of the events and places James took her to.  Helene/Elaine blames her husband's best friend for his arrest, and seems to somehow expect him to risk his life to deliver her message to a husband she had earlier been angry with, for preventing her earlier involvement in the Resistance in order to protect her.  Character development in this book could have been better - everyone felt a bit flat, and it was hard to get invested in anyone.  Still, it was a worthwhile read if only to learn about new places and another aspect of the war I knew nothing about.


The Map Colorist by Rebecca D'Harlingue

This was an interesting piece of historical fiction.  Set in Amsterdam mostly in 1660 and 1661, Anneke van Brug is a young woman who longs to go beyond the map coloring she does to help her family's finances, and actually make a map herself.  Sitting in on cartography lessons for her brother, and using notes from her artist father's earlier trip to Africa, she does just that.  Along the way, she has to deal with society's expectations for women, as well of those of her employer and a client's adulterous wife.  Rebecca D'Harlingue's well-researched novel incorporates real people from the era into the story.


The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson

Author Kim Michele Richardson, who grew up in Kentucky, combines two pieces of her state's history in this historical fiction novel.  Nineteen-year-old Cussy Mary "Bluet" Carter (named for the area in France her great-grandfather was from) is part of the Pack Horse Library Project, a Works Progress Administration (WPA) program where books were delivered to residents in remote areas of Appalachia from 1935 to 1943 (the story takes place in 1936).  She and her widowed coal miner father, Elijah, live in the community of Troublesome Creek (a real place in Breathitt County in eastern Kentucky) and are also the last of the Blue People of Kentucky, with blue skin caused by a rare genetic disorder.  

I'd heard of this book a while back and finally got around to reading it.  As a retired librarian, I especially loved Cussy's interactions with her library service patrons, who call her "Book Woman."  Cussy rides her stubborn but protective mule Junia (the only positive to come out of her horrid first marriage) to her library patrons in the backwoods.  She brings them books, newspapers, magazines, and scrapbooks (made from recipes, quilt and sewing patterns, poems, and articles clipped from other sources with home and farm tips).  Her patrons all have personalities of their own, and Cussy strives to meet their needs, sometimes even giving them food she could use herself - because many of them are starving.

My favorite interaction was on pages 150-153, with Devil John Smith, a moonshiner who complains to Cussy that the books she brings makes his children lazy and his wife late with his supper:  "They've wasted the kerosene and burnt all the candles and damn near broke me."  Cussy pulls out a Boys Life magazine and a scrapbook and describes to Devil John the articles within them, with hunting and fishing tips, cooking and canning recipes, and even "picking the best witch sticks" and "real good diviner tips." Even though he cannot read, Devil John ultimately takes the items. "Well, I reckon these can't hurt none.  Might get 'em working."  That's exactly what a good librarian is supposed to do.  

It was also interesting to learn about the Blue People of KentuckySome of them are only blue in the lips and fingernails, but others have darker skin.  Cussy is the latter, and experiences a lot of prejudice, and deemed barely above a fellow pack horse librarian who is Black.  

Descriptions of the Kentucky landscape are vivid - as are some of the depictions of the discrimination and ill-treatment Cussy faces, as well as the difficult lives of the people in rural Kentucky in this era.  There are incidents that will be triggers for some readers.

The book's ending left me with questions - which may be answered in its stand-alone sequel, which I hope to read next month.  There is also an author's note explaining some of her research and sources, archival photos of the Pack Horse Librarians, a reading group guide, and questions for and answers from the author.


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Monday, July 31, 2023

1153 - 1157 (2023 #s 26 - 30) June-July 2023

The Beach at Summerly by Beatriz Williams - advance reader edition

This novel takes place on the fictional Winthrop Island, moving back and forth between the summer of 1946 and the spring of 1954.  The story is told from the point of view of Emilia Winthrop, a descendant of the island's first settlers and daughter of the caretaker of the island summer home (Summerly) of the wealthy Peabody family.  Emilia, her older brother Eli, and younger sister Susana spent summers playing with the three Peabody boys. She had a crush on handsome middle son Amory, but was best friends with youngest son Shep.

In 1946, the family is finally returning to the island after the end of World War II.  Eli and the Peabody boys all served, with Eli and the oldest Peabody dying.  Coming with them is a young aunt, Olive Rainsford, and her three young children.  Emilia gets hired to watch the children so Olive can do her translating work in peace.  But is it really translating work?  In the 1954 storyline, Olive is in prison.

For some reason, I had a tough time getting into this book.  It took me the entire month of June to read its 357 pages (although I did have a lot else going on).  Perhaps it was because the story involving Olive did not seem very realistic to me.  Perhaps if I'd been on vacation, it would have felt more like the advertised "summer read" to me.  The end, however, had an interesting twist, which will keep me reading author Beatriz Williams' works.  



Friends Like These by Meg Rosoff

"The summer of 1983" caught my eye in the blurb for this book.  Back then, I was seven years older than main character in this book.  (As it turns out, author Meg Rosoff is about the same age as me.)  Beth is an eighteen-year-old from Rhode Island who's won a prestigious journalism internship in New York City.  She's one of four interns, and soon becomes best friends with the only other female, NYC-native Edie.

This book was a fast read (310 pages, but with short chapters of a larger double-spaced font), and I finished it in two days.  Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot to it.  The title was a bit of a tip-off as to the nature of Beth's friendship with the flamboyant Edie.  Sometimes Beth seemed especially naïve, but she had learned something by the end of the book.  

Maybe I'm just not the right audience for this book - it's supposedly for young adults and teens.  There is a warning at the beginning of the book about "scenes of a sexual nature" - there's also a lot of heavy drinking and some drug use.



Spheres All Year / Esferas Todo el Ano by Elizabeth Everett, illustrated by Anuki López.

This children's book by former classroom teacher Elizabeth Everett is from Science Naturally, a publisher of STEM books for young readers. I requested the bilingual English/Spanish edition for review, but the book is also available in an English-only version, and there's a bilingual board book version that is (mostly) round.

Rhyming couplets on each page (English at the top, Spanish at the bottom) provide examples of spheres grouped by the four seasons. Sometimes the rhyming is a little forced, and the Spanish is not always a direct translation of the English (likely to improve the rhyming in that language).  The vibrant illustrations by Spanish artist Anuki López include diverse children with big, round eyes.

The book is intended for ages two through seven, although the concepts might be hard for preschoolers. My review copy indicates there is a teacher's guide available, although I cannot find it at the publisher's website.  A double-page spread at the end of the book explains the difference between two-dimensional and three-dimensional shapes.



The Ice Harp by Norman Lock

Earlier I read another book in Norman Lock's American Novels stand-alone series, Voices in the Dead House, and I really liked it.  The two main characters from that book, poet Walt Whitman and novelist Louisa May Alcott, appear in this one as well (the former as a spirit, the latter in real life), but the main character and focus is essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson (a neighbor of Alcott's in Concord, Massachusetts).

The book is set in Concord on October 21-22, 1879, less than three years before Emerson's death.  He is suffering from memory lapses and aphasia.  He sees and has conversations with friends who aren't there - some of them deceased - such as Whitman, naturalists Henry David Thoreau (who also lived in Concord) and John Muir, journalist Margaret Fuller, and abolitionist John Brown.  There's also an escaped slave named Samuel Long, who was the main character in an earlier book by Lock, A Fugitive in Walden Woods.  Lock's forward notes that "Italicized passages set off by quotation marks represent Emerson's 'conversations' with his special guests.  They are unheard by any actual persons present."

In this book, Emerson faces a moral dilemma with the arrival of a Black soldier named James Stokes, who deserted after provocation from racial slurs and killing a white soldier in self-defense.  Emerson is torn between hiding Stokes, a former slave, and turning him over to the authorities, where Stokes would face likely execution.  Emerson spends much of the novel (and the night) thinking this through, talking with his "special guests," and visiting the Sleepy Hollow cemetery and Walden Pond.

The book's title comes from the December 10, 1836 entry in Emerson's journal, The Wide World:  
At Walden Pond, I found a new musical instrument which I call the ice-harp. A thin coat of ice covered a part of the pond, but melted around the edge of the shore. I threw a stone, upon the ice which rebounded with a shrill sound, and falling again and again, repeated the note with pleasing modulation. I thought at first it was the “peep, peep” of a bird I had scared. I was so taken with the music that I threw down my stick and spent twenty minutes in throwing stones single or in handfuls on the crystal drum.
I'm not as familiar with Emerson's work as I should be, but I could appreciate this book for its observations on an older person witnessing and fearful of his own decline (something most of us experience as we age), as well as its Concord setting and period details.



Switchboard Soldiers by Jennifer Chiaverini

This novel tells the story of telephone switchboard operators - who were women -  for the United States Army's Signal Corps in World War I.  Colloquially known as "hello girls," the women were actually sworn into military service - although they did not receive recognition as military veterans until 1977.

Jennifer Chiaverini tells the story from the points of view of three women:  Grace Banker of New Jersey (who was real, the Chief Operator of the First American Unit), and the fictionalized Marie Miossec, a French immigrant in Cincinnati, and Valerie DeSmedt, a Belgian immigrant in Los Angeles.  Other characters in the book are both real people (like Inez Crittenden, the Chief Operator of the Second American Unit) and fictionalized - although I will say I wish Chiaverini had made it clear in her author's notes about who was real and who was not.

The book begins in August 1914, with Marie and her family learning of the outbreak of the war, then skips ahead to Grace in April 1917 and Valerie in August 1917.  Although their individual stories rarely converge, the flow is seamless from narrator to narrator.  The book ends with Marie leaving Europe in June 1919, as many women continued to serve during the occupation in Germany after the war ended in November 1918.

I can appreciate the work these women had to do, having operated a PBX switchboard (thankfully, only occasionally as lunch relief) for a city hall in the early 1980s, that was nowhere near as busy - nor as crucial.  The women had to speak French (and English) flawlessly, as they often had to be able to translate between the two languages on the fly.  

This book was a fascinating look at a chapter in history I had not known about.



© Amanda Pape - 2023

Wednesday, May 31, 2023

1148 - 1152 (2023 #21 - #25). May 2023

They Called Themselves the K.K.K.: The Birth of an American Terrorist Group 
by Susan Campbell Bartoletti

Book banning has become the norm in Texas, the state where I grew up and came back to live in after 21 years away in my 30s and 40s.  One such ban occurred in Llano County in the picturesque Hill Country, where a number of books were removed from the public library shelves by right-wing nut jobs because of "porn" (read:  against their political and religious beliefs).  

One of the books was They Called Themselves the K.K.K.: The Birth of an American Terrorist Group, written in 2010 by Susan Campbell Bartoletti.  This book received lots of recognition, including being named a National Council of Teachers of English Orbis Pictus Recommended Title, American Library Assocition's Young Adult Library Services Association Excellence in Nonfiction Finalist, and National Council for the Social Studies/Children's Book Council Notable Social Studies Trade Book for Young People.  I'd bought it for the curriculum collection (used by future teachers) at my university library, but had not had a chance to read the book until now.  

Bartoletti, a former 8th-grade English teacher, has written a number of award-winning nonfiction books for children and young adults.  Through primary and secondary source documents, period drawings and articles, and photographs and interviews with former slaves in the 1930s, Bartoletti traces the history of the Ku Klux Klan, from its inception in Pulaski, Tennessee, after the Civil War as an almost-fraternity-like organization (complete with initiation rites and secret rituals), through the Reconstruction era, and touching on its continuance into the 21st century.  She adeptly demonstrates how post-Civil War and Reconstruction conditions in the South led to the proliferation of this terrorist group.

The book ends with a civil rights time line that extends from 1863 (Emancipation Proclamation) to 2008 (election of President Obama).  Bartoletti provides attributions for all the quotations she uses, as well as an extensive bibliography and source notes, and a thorough index.  The 172-page book is quite readable, written in a narrative nonfiction style with at least one illustration or long quote on every double-page spread.  

This book BELONGS in every public library.  With a Lexile measure of 1180 and an Accelerated Reader level of grade 9.2, it is also appropriate for ALL middle school and high school libraries.  It is most certainly NOT "porn."  It is uncomfortable history - especially for racists.

Some Llano County residents filed suit against the Llano County commissioners and library board concerning the bans.  In late March 2023, a judge ruled in their favor, and ordered the banned books back on the shelves.  The commissioners considered closing the libraries rather than putting the books back, but after public outcry, left the libraries open.

One copy of the book is owned for the entire three-branch system, and it was checked out when I last looked (although whether or not it is overdue - sometimes an indicator someone is trying to keep the book off the shelves - is not clear).  Although it is classified as a young adult book, it is shelved in the adult section at this library - as it is at the library in my right-wing nut job county too.


Banana by Zoey Abbott - early reviewer, picture book

A dad and his daughter do lots of things together - until he buys a Banana.  It's a real banana in the book, but I think it's a code for a certain fruit-named device that seems to be an obsession to so many.  Because that's what happens with the dad - at first he does things with his daughter and the Banana, but soon he's spending time alone with it.  So the daughter takes an action that is realistic for a fruit, but not really for a device. 

I think the message of this book will be missed by a picture book audience - it's really a book for parents rather than children.  However, the pencil and risograph-printed illustrations by author Zoey Abbott are pleasing. 


Granny Came Here on the Empire Windrush by Patrice Lawrence, illustrated by Camilla Sucre - early reviewer, picture book

Little Ava needs to dress up as a person she admires for school, so her Trinidadian Granny invites her to look for inspiration in her trunk of old clothes.  Items in the trunk suggest Trinidadian pianist Winifred Atwell, Jamaican-British nurse Mary Seacole, and American activist Rosa Parks, but others in Ava's class have already clamed those.  Ava finds a small cardboard suitcase in the bottom of the trunk, that her Granny used when she came to London from Trinidad on the Empire Windrush.  Granny explains the stories behind the unusual items in the suitcase, which leads to Ava's decision on who she most admires.

This is a heartfelt story about immigration and some of its hardships, both in adapting to and acceptance in the new country, and missing the old home .  The mother of author Patrice Lawrence emigrated from Trinidad to England, just like Granny.  Trinidadian-American illustrator Camilla Sucre's lush colorful artwork adds much to the story. 

I wanted to know more about Atwell, Seacole, and the Empire Windrush.  Brief biographical/historical sketches at the end of the book on each of these (and Rosa Parks) would extend the range of the book beyond the traditional picture book age to middle grades.


Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

Another book banned at the Llano County Public Library was Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson.  This book is not classified as a children's or even young adult book (although it could certainly be read by the latter), so trying to say it needed to be removed because it was "porn" children might see was disingenuous, to say the least.  The book has no illustrations.

Wilkerson makes a compelling case that the United States has a caste system, like that of India - or Nazi Germany - that underpins the racism we continue to see in the USA.  It was horrifying to learn that the Nazis modeled their caste system on characteristics of that in the United States.

Here in the USA, caste depends on skin color - something easily determined by outsiders, and something one is born with and cannot easily overcome.  Many lower class whites consider themselves superior to those with darker skin, despite any achievements of the latter in education, careers, etc.  Our unspoken caste system helps explain why many whites seemingly vote against their best interests - they (perhaps unconsciously) want to maintain their places on a higher rung in our caste system.

In part three of her book, Wilkerson discusses the eight "pillars" or underpinnings of a caste system: divine will and the laws of nature, heritability, endogamy (marrying only within your group) and the control of marriage and mating, purity versus pollution, occupational hierarchy, dehumanization and stigma, terror as enforcement (think KKK), cruelty as a means of control, and inherent superiority versus inherent inferiority.  She provides numerous examples throughout the book, through antidotes from her own life and the lives of many others.

There are far better reviews of this book out there (especially in LibraryThing) than mine, but those who most need to read this book probably will never do so.

One copy of the book is owned for the entire three-branch system, and it was checked out when I last looked (although whether or not it is overdue - sometimes an indicator someone is trying to keep the book off the shelves - is not clear).  It is (rightly) shelved in the adult section at this library - as it is at the library in my right-wing nut job county too.


The All-American by Susie Finkbeiner

Both the title and the blurb on the LibraryThing Early Reviewers page made me think this book was more about the early 1950s experience of being in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, popularized in the 1992 movie A League of Their Own.  Bertha Harding, a tomboy eager to play pro ball, is one of the novel's two narrators - the other is her younger sister, Florence (aka Flossie), an unpopular bookworm.  Their father is an author, but when he is falsely accused of being a Communist (it's the McCarthy era), their Detroit suburb turns against them.  The family moves to an uncle's large home in a tiny Michigan town.  Bertha finally gets to try out with the league (almost 200 pages into the book).

I would have liked to read more about Bertha's experiences with the league, as well as how the false accusations of Communism were handled - it seemed that part was just glossed over.  I read an advanced reading copy from uncorrected proofs, and I do hope the final published book combines more sentences into paragraphs (at times it seemed every sentence began a new paragraph, and it wasn't just for dialogue).  There was also a chapter at the end for an entirely different novel, with no indication if it's from a book yet to be published, or one of author Susie Finkbeiner's other books, or something else altogether.  I did appreciate the way the Detroit suburb's librarian spoke up against banning books (page 141).


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Sunday, April 30, 2023

1141 - 1147 (2023 #14 - 20). February through April, 2023

NOTE:  After further consideration, I've decided not to continue to review every book or short story I read.  I don't think anyone reads my reviews anyway, particularly on this blog.  My life became very stressful at the end of 2022, when my spouse broke the top of his left femur, leading to an emergency partial hip replacement, three dislocations within the next seven weeks, a revision surgery two weeks later, and eight weeks after that in a heavy metal and plastic brace.  There was barely any time for reading, let alone writing reviews of all I read.

I will continue to write reviews for any book I receive through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.  Those reviews are also posted in my LibraryThing accounts (one concentrates on children's books), as well as reviews for other books I deem worthy (particularly any book challenged or banned here in Texas).  In this blog, I will continue to list (and count) all the books and short stories I read, although I will probably not enter all of these into my LibraryThing accounts.


The Spanish Daughter by Lorena Hughes (February) - Amazon Prime Reading, fiction


Twinkle Twinkle Daylight Star by Elizabeth Everett, illustrated by Beatriz Castro (February) - children's board book, early reviewer

This children's board book by former classroom teacher Elizabeth Everett is from Science Naturally, a publisher of STEM books for young readers. The book is also available in a bilingual English/Spanish edition (which I wish I had requested).

Rhyming couplets in the meter of the well-known nursery song of the title provide facts about the sun, the daytime star in our solar system.  The illustrations by Beatriz Castro include diverse children.  I especially like the shading of light in the child's bedroom at the beginning and end of the book.


Vanderbilt: The Rise and Fall of an American Dynasty by Anderson Cooper and Katherine Howe (March) - Amazon Prime Reading, nonfiction

CNN anchor and CBS 60 Minutes journalist Anderson Cooper is the great-great-great-grandson of the tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt.  Along with historian and novelist Katherine Howe, he traces the history of his family.  This is an excellent nonfiction counterpart to the fiction books I've read about Vanderbilts and their descendants (see A Well-Behaved Woman below as well as American Duchess).


The Rail Splitter by John Cribb (March) - early reviewer, advance reader edition

Excellent biographical novel about the early years of Abraham Lincoln.  It starts in the summer of 1826, when he was 17 and living with his father, stepmother, and step-siblings in the Indiana frontier.  It ends in December 1859, when he was a lawyer in Springfield, Illinois, and thinking about running for President of the United States.  It's the prequel to author John Cribb's Old Abe, which covers the campaign and presidency.  The short chapters and conversational tone make the book easy to read.


A Well-Behaved Woman: A Novel of the Vanderbilts by Therese Fowler (April) - Amazon Prime Reading, 

A biographical novel about socialite Alva Smith Vanderbilt Belmont, A Well-Behaved Woman paints her in a little better light than American Duchess (about her daughter Consuelo Vanderbilt Spencer-Churchill Balsan).  As with that book, I had a hard time getting interested in the first world problems of the incredibly wealthy.  Late in life, Alva is involved in the women's suffrage movement, but the book ends at that point.


The Diamond Eye by Kate Quinn (April)

The Diamond Eye is historical fiction by Kate Quinn about the real Lyudmila "Mila" Pavlichenko, a female Soviet sniper in World War II who became a friend of Eleanor Roosevelt during a goodwill tour in 1942.  Parts of the book read like a biographical novel, but other parts are straight fiction.  Be sure to read Quinn's author's note at the end of the book, where she details what's real and what's not.  Quinn's primary source (she provides a bibliography of further reading at the book's end, as well as some historic photos) was Pavlichenko's own memoir, Lady Death.


The Lioness of Leiden by Robert Loewen (April) - early reviewer

The Lioness of Leiden is clearly a labor of love by its debut author, Robert Loewen.  In it, the retired lawyer relays the writings and stories told by his mother-in-law, Hetty Steenhuis Kraus (1920-1994), a Leiden (Netherlands) University student who served as a courier in the Dutch Resistance during the Nazi occupation in the early 1940s.   

I would agree with some other reviewers that the other characters in the book are not particularly well-developed, but that is not surprising, given that Hetty "did not like talking about her wartime experiences because of the painful memories it elicited." More biographical novel than historical fiction, the chapters are short, and it is an easy and compelling read.


© Amanda Pape - 2023

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

1128 - 1140 (2023 #1 - 13). January 2023

A lot was going on this month with my spouse's hip replacement after a fall and broken femur head at the end of the previous year, and a number of complications following.  Early in the month, I wasn't getting enough sleep and having trouble concentrating, so I read a number of short stories and novellas.

NOTE:  After further consideration, I've decided not to continue to review every book or short story I read.  I don't think anyone reads my reviews anyway, particularly on this blog.  I will continue to write reviews for any book I receive through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.  Those reviews are also posted in my LibraryThing accounts (one concentrates on children's books), as well as reviews for other books I deem worthy (particularly any book challenged or banned here in Texas).  In this blog, I will continue to list (and count) all the books and short stories I read, although I will probably not enter all of these into my LibraryThing accounts.


Signal Moon by Kate Quinn

Signal Moon, a short story by Kate Quinn, is an interesting blend of science fiction and historical fiction.  In 1942, Wren (Women's Royal Navy Service) Lily Baines is a Y-station listener on the British coast in Yorkshire.  Fluent in German, she listens for snippets of German radio transmissions and Morse code, writing them down.  One night, she picks up American sailor Matt Jackson transmitting - from 2023!  She figures out a way to warn him about what she heard - before it actually happens.

Lily's experiences are based on those of a real Wren, Pat Owtram.  While Matt is completely fictional, Quinn's active-duty Navy husband helped her make him sound real.  The title comes from a line in a Dylan Thomas poem that is a part of the story.


The Bookstore Sisters by Alice Hoffman (short story)


I also read all seven of the short stories from Amazon Prime Reading's A Point in Time collection, described as "a transporting collection of stories about the pivotal moments, past and present, that change lives," are available to borrow as part of an Amazon Prime membership.  Five of the stories take about 50 minutes to read; the other two are 33 and 74 minutes long.  I was intrigued by the collection because I've read other works by some of the authors.

Ash Wednesday by Paula McLain - An immigrant school custodian is cleared but yet still blamed for a deadly Ash Wednesday fire in the badly-designed school for poor, mostly immigrant children.  The tale is based on a 1908 fire in Cleveland, Ohio, inspired by a memorial to the victims in a local cemetery.

Naomi's Gift by Martha Hall Kelly

A Wild Rose by Fiona Davis

Landing by Olivia Hawker

We Are Bone and Earth by Esi Edugyan

Mother Swamp by Jesmyn Ward

Alison's Conviction by Thomas Keneally 


The House at Mermaid's Cove by Lindsay Jayne Ashford

A mixture of romance and historical fiction, this book was better than I expected, given that it was a free book that could be borrowed through Amazon Prime Reading.  Alice washes ashore on Cornwall in England in 1943 after her ship from Africa is torpedoed.  She's rescued by Viscount Jack Trewella and becomes involved in his group's aid to the French Resistance.  The romance was pretty predictable, but the historical fiction is quite good, especially the representation of everyday life in Cornwall in wartime.   Alice is a very likeable character with an unusual past.  Be sure to read author Lindsay Jayne Ashford's afterword, where she explains the inspiration for the story, setting, and characters - some of whom are real people.


Wreck the Halls by Melinda Rathjen, illustrated by Gareth Williams

Perfect for toddlers who love trucks (or anything that moves), Wreck the Halls is a cute Christmastime preschool board book featuring a wrecker that helps celebrate the season.  The colorful, cartoon-like illustrations by Gareth Williams are engaging, and Melinda Rathjen's rhyming text, with some challenging vocabulary, will amuse the reader.  I can't wait to give this book to my great-grandson this coming Thanksgiving, when he'll be 19 months old - perfect age and time for him (and all of us, his family) to enjoy this book.


Silver Alert by Lee Smith

Herb Atlas is 83, not too healthy, and married to Susan, his third wife, who's 70 and suffering from an early-onset dementia (I think it might be a form of frontotemporal degeneration, aka FTD).  He's trying to care for her in their beautiful Key West home, with the help of home health aides, not always successfully.  Then Renee Martin arrives (hired by Herb's daughter's partner) to give Susan a pedicure, and seems to be the only person who can calm Susan down.

Only Renee is not who she seems.  Her real name is Deidre (Dee Dee) Mullins, and it's obvious to me right away that she's a victim of sex trafficking earlier in her life.  The story alternates viewpoints between Herb and Dee Dee aka Renee.

Herb's daughters (from his deceased first wife Roxana), his ex-wife Gloria and her son Ricky, Susan's son, and their significant others, stage an intervention to put Susan in memory care and move Herb into a nearby senior residential facility.  On moving day, Dee Dee (Renee) comes by the house to say goodbye, and Herb invites her to ride in his Porsche.  What was supposed to be a short ride around Key West turns into a drive north for lunch at Herb's and Susan's favorite place on another key, then on to Disney World - thus setting off a silver alert.

I really could relate to much in this book.  My husband is 81, I am 65, although our situation is somewhat reversed - while reading this book, I've been caring for him during his recovery from a partial hip replacement due to breaking a femur in a fall.  My mom, however, suffered from FTD (albeit a different form than I think Susan has), and I remember the difficulty my siblings and I had trying to convince my dad that home health care just wasn't working any more, especially as his health was deteriorating, and we needed to move them both into a senior residential facility.

Dee Dee has her own story, too, and both she and Herb are engaging characters - Herb is especially funny.  I loved most of this book - except the ending, which I felt left a lot of unanswered questions and unresolved situations.  Nevertheless, I'd recommend this latest book by Lee Smith to others.


Goodnight, Vienna by Marius Gabriel - Amazon Prime Reading


© Amanda Pape - 2023