Monday, November 26, 2012

When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It's Time to Go Home

Thanksgiving weekend was productive, reading-wise; not only did I start and finish History of a Pleasure Seeker, but I also managed this light and funny travel memoir.

I was given this book by my sister, who remembered my adolescent fondness for the late humorist Erma Bombeck, whose columns appeared weekly in the newspaper. As you might have guessed from the title, When You Look Like Your Passport Photo... describes Erma's adventures traveling to places near (the Grand Canyon) and far (the Great Barrier Reef), exotic (Papua New Guinea) and less exotic (Canada). Beyond a bad case of traveler's envy, this book provided an interesting perspective on international travel 25 or 30 years ago. For example, Bombeck devotes one chapter to airline food, as in the complimentary meals that haven't been served in coach for the past decade. As she vents her frustration about being lost in one country after another my first thought is 'I can relate,' but my second 'yes, Garmin is my friend.'

The most interesting chapters for me were those devoted to her travels in the former Soviet Union, specifically the panel discussions in which she participated with the intent of fostering greater Soviet-American understanding. I believe she cuts to the heart of why so many of us travel when she writes, "Once you have looked into the eyes of people in a foreign country, you realize you all want the same thing: food on your table, love in your marriage, healthy children, laughter, freedom to be. ... [T]he dreams are all the same."

History of a Pleasure Seeker

History of a Pleasure Seeker was another pick from the NPR summer reading list. The novel is set primarily in Amsterdam in the opening years of the 20th century, although key scenes also take place in New York City, aboard the luxurious ocean liners of the day, and in Cape Town. It is, at heart, a book about class and opportunity: Piet longs to escape the dreary life that awaits him if he remains in Leiden and finds his escape as the tutor to the possibly autistic youngest son of the Vermeulen-Sickerts (not that such a diagnosis would have been made in 1907). The Vermuelen-Sickerts are one of Amsterdam's leading families and their son's affliction is at odds with the rest of their gilded, orderly life.

Once he arrives, Piet - and the reader - are thrown into a Downton Abbey-esque atmosphere of life above and belowstairs. There is a gruff butler, a strongwilled housekeeper, a convivial footman, and enough maids and cooks to keep a grand house running in belle epoque style. There is also no shortage of scandals on either side of the class divide.

The book is lively and fast pasted, well written, and with plenty of believable characters to go around. Ultimately, however, it served to drive home to me the extent to which I prefer non-fiction to fiction. I had a hard time caring about almost any of the characters and truly debated finishing the book once I discovered the ominous To be continued on the last page. I did finish it, though I must admit to skimming a passage here and there rather than reading closely. I will not be reading the sequel though.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

April 1865: The Month That Saved America

Jay Winik has essentially taken the bulk of the Civil War, its major actors and causes, and analyzed the entire cataclysmic event in the context of a single month - April 1865. Occasionally I find a book so great that as I read I cannot help 1) annotating the text, willing myself to remember pieces of it and 2) wishing that I might have written it myself. April 1865 is just such a book.

In roughly 400 action packed and beautifully written pages, Winik has provided his readers not only the background on the war itself, but mini-biographies of everyone from Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses Grant (whose real name was Hiram; he became U.S. after he failed to correct a clerical error upon his admission to West Point), Jefferson Davis (middle name: Finis, as in his mother really was done after he, her tenth babe, was born), Robert E. Lee, Nathn Bedford Forrest, Andrew Johnson, John Wilkes Booth, William Sherman, Joe Johnston, and basically every other major general or politician of the era.

The events of a single month - the fall of Richmond, Lee's surrender, the assassination of Lincoln - are presented chronologically, yet with the history of all that proceeded and all that came after flawlessly knitted into their telling. The prose is often quite spare, allowing the events to speak for themselves. It is just as often was is not written that truly emerges, as in the description of Lee's final order to the men of the Army of Northern Virginia. After reproducing the order in full, Winik adds a single, simple sentence that elucidates clearly the relationship between North and South for decades to come. "For generations, General Orders Number 9 would be recited in the South with the same pride as the Gettysburg Address was learned in the North."

I can easily recommend April 1865 to anyone with a love of fine writing, an interest in American history, or an appreciation for the art of a good story, even - or especially - if the story is true. Four stars.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Killer on the Road: Violence and the American Interstate

Killer on the Road... by Ginger Gail Strand was another NPR summer reading suggestion. It's a thin little book (roughly 200 pages) with a lot packed into it. This book examines the construction of America's interstates and the ways - directly and indirectly - that the highways have led to an increase in violence, particular of the serial killing variety. Despite the fact that Ben mocked me for reading a book about how the highway system came to be, I actually found the book informative, thought provoking and well-written, and the history of the highways was the most interesting to me. (I was most amused by the fact that the PA Turnpike was considered a "dreamway" when it was built and cars waited for hours for the opportunity to drive it. My experiences on this road usually run closer to nightmare than dream, but I guess it was a different world.)

My complaint with Killer centers on the fact that it often had a bit of split personality, frequently feeling like Strand had written two separate books -  one on the construction of the interstate and one one serial killers - and smushed them together. In places, particularly the first chapter, this was done exceedingly well, while in others the connection between highways and murder appeared tenuous at best. I found her last chapter, where Strand examines the correlations between growth in highways and growth in murder rates in developing countries, to be especially intriguing. This book runs the gamut from urbanization and globalization to truck stop prostitution, 1950s' angst over juvenile delinquency and the military-industrial complex of the Cold War era. As usual, NPR is on the mark in recommending it.