Monday, August 31, 2015

Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy: Four Women Undercover in the Civil War

Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy is an in-depth look at four women - two Union and two Confederate - who determined to play a role in the Civil War. Karen Abbott deftly traces the paths each of the women took, comparing and contrasting their histories along the way.

Rose O'Neal Greenhow and Elizabeth Van Lew are two of the best-known spies from the time, Rose for the Confederacy and Van Lew for the Union. The women are portrayed as being 180 degrees apart in temperament and methods (with ROG fulfilling the role of "temptress," particularly of Congressmen and other political types, while EVL was clearly a "liar," and never more than when a Confederate general and chief of the POW system in Richmond moved into her home to better keep an eye on her). Their belief in the their respective causes was equally unwavering, and each paid a particularly steep price for her wartime activities. 

Emma Edmonds ran away from her New Brunswick home, living as a man in Flint, Michigan, before the war in order to escape society's expectations of a woman of her time and class. She enlisted under her assumed name, Frank Thompson, and served as a courier, spy, and infantryman in a number of the wars bloodiest battles before, going AWOL and reclaiming Emma's identity. (I was familiar with many aspects of Edmonds's/Thompson's story from They Fought Like Demons: Women Soldiers in the Civil War, which I read earlier this year.)

Belle Boyd was 17 when the war hit home, literally, with Union soldiers forcibly entering her family's home in Martinsburg, Virginia, (later West Virginia). Of the four women, Belle most completely embodies the four roles of Abbott's title, and is portrayed, at least, as having the most colorful personality.

Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy is an informative and interesting read that those with an interest in women's history or the American Civil War will especially enjoy.

Four stars.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

The Mother Tongue - English And How It Got That Way

I am a great fan of Bill Bryson's work, so when The Mother Tongue popped up in Book Bub earlier this summer, I had to read it. As I did so, I could not escape the nagging question, "Have I read this before?" Unfortunately, I was high over the Pacific, with no wi-fi, on my way to a completely disconnected vacation. I would have to wait until I got home for the answer.

No, no, I did not read this before. What I did read was Melvyn Bragg's The Adventure of English, which covers much of the same ground, and which I much preferred. Both mine the history of the language seeking to answer such questions as where our words come from, how English has evolved, and where it is headed. Even a linguistics major needn't read both.

Bryson fans, stick with walking in the woods.

Monday, August 24, 2015

Let Them Eat Shrimp: The Tragic Disappearance of the Rainforests of the Sea

Probably you haven't given much thought to mangroves. I haven't. Only occasionally have I given any thought to their role in the climate, such as when they're mentioned briefly as a shelter during a hurricane in Under a Dark Summer Sky. Kennedy Warne, on the other hand, has devoted a tremendous amount of time, energy, and brain power, to the plight of the mangroves.

And that plight, unfortunately, is tied inextricably to the global economy. See, people like shrimp. Shrimp do remarkably well in the tropical climates that are so prevalent in the developing world. Ergo, from Brazil to Indonesia, shrimp farms have cleared away mangroves to create shrimp ponds, altering the environment, the way of life for the local population, and the market for this once-delicacy.

Warne is clearly passionate about the subject, but takes a fair and balanced approach to the topic. Let Them Eat Shrimp includes chapters on regions and countries that have recognized the problem and are working to rectify it (such as Eritrea, of all places), as well as those where the mangroves are legally, even constitutionally, protected, but where the on-the-ground practice is to turn a blind eye to wealthy and powerful shrimp farms and developers. (Here's to you, Ecuador.)

Warne, who not surprisingly writes for National Geographic, criss-crossed the globe from the Americas to Asia and Africa to understand the various forces at play and how the dynamics might be changed, the mangroves restored and saved. In that way, Let Them Eat Shrimp is as much travelogue as science, as much about raising consciousness as about guilt. He further reinforces the notion of understanding where our food comes from and choosing what to purchase based on more than the price.

Those who love science and nature writing, travel writing, and serious books that study complex issues and arrive at no easy solutions will especially appreciate Warne's work.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Four Years in the Mountains of Kurdistan: An Armenian Boy's Memoir of Survival

Aram Haigaz's memoir of the years (1915-1919) during and immediately after the Armenian genocide is a beautifully wrought account of his experiences and resilience of the human spirit. Aram was 15 when his village fell to the Turks and he watched all of the town's men - including all of the men in his family - be killed before being forced into a caravan with the surviving women and children, including his mother.

At his mother's urging, Aram renounces his faith, finds a protector of sorts, and escapes the caravan - and his fate - by spending the next four years as a servant-slave to one and then another of the clannish, ruling beys. The stories he tells of his time with the beys is remarkable. Quick-witted and intelligent, he is frequently in and out of jams, and it is clear that the bey comes to rely on him as much more than a lowly servant. Aram's penchant for morphing with his surroundings and doing what needed to be done to survive brought to mind the flight of a contemporary, Lev (Leo) Nussinbaum, from the Bolsheviks just a few years later. And, in fact, Haigaz's longed-for and beloved Armenia and Nussinbaum's native Azerbaijan were both absorbed by the Soviets in 1920.

Haigaz's memoir serves not only as a reminder of the Armenian genocide, but as a window into the last days of the Ottoman Empire, and how World War I looked and felt from the forgotten corners of this vast territory. In the descriptions of fugitives and warlords, of double dealing and bribes and shifting sands of alliance, one finds the seeds of trouble in the modern Middle East. (This landscape makes the feats of Gertrude Bell and Lawrence of Arabia all the more remarkable.)

Beyond the personal story and geo-political history, Four Years in the Mountains of Kurdistan lends a depth and poignancy to the Armenian genocide that Sandcastle Girls, by dint of being a fictional account, could not quite achieve. This is a fascinating memoir, the tale of a penniless and stateless refugee, one that has been experienced far too many times in the past 100 years, but rarely put to paper so well.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Meely LaBauve

I loved this book! Emile - Meely - LaBauve is a 15-year-old Cajun living by his wits in the bayous of South Louisiana. His mother is dead, his father, an alcoholic "gator hunter," and his friendship with Joey Hebert highly discouraged by the prominent and wealthy Mr. Hebert. Yet, Meely is spunky, plucky, and, frankly, rather lovable.

I was dubious of a description of Meely LaBauve as a mid-twentieth century Huck Finn, but I think the description is apt. Meely sees people for who the are, the good as well as the bad, and is a master of getting into and out of rather unimaginable scrapes.

This is a short, quick read that I wasn't ready to finish. Ken Wells has captured the rhythm of speech - and life - in Cajun country perfectly (or at least from the perspective of this Yankee girl), and created a mulch-dimensional character who left me wanting more.

Four stars.

Friday, August 14, 2015

The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean

What better reading for a wave-filled vacation than Susan Casey's The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean?

I admit that I was completely sold by the title, but a bit apprehensive as to the readability. After all, the last water book I started didn't end so well. Happily, Casey's Wave is well researched, well written, and incredibly interesting. In chasing big waves, Casey has captured the intersection of scientists and surfers, each of whom search out the largest waves on the planet for their own purposes. With the surfers, it's rather obvious. The scientists' interest lies in understanding the forces that generate these waves, their relative frequency, and their root causes. Casey also examines the connection to the global economy by exploring the workings of maritime insurance and the salvage companies that rescue ships that have been disabled - and sometimes dashed in half - by these monster waves. In sum, it's a comprehensive look at waves and everything with a vested interest in them.

I read this book much more quickly than I expected. Casey takes subject matter that could be, frankly, dense and dull, and creates a fascinating narrative. This is science writing as it should be, and an excellent beach read in the most literal sense. And, it hurts not one bit that Hawaii and Tahiti feature prominently throughout.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Under a Dark Summer Sky

In the summer of 1935, residents in Heron Key, Florida, are just trying to get by. Years now into the Great Depression, and entrenched within the rules and rituals of the Jim Crow South, black and white residents alike find themselves on edge as the sweltering heat and oppressive humidity bear down on them, a hurricane blowing hard at sea - and straight toward them. Yet, as unprepared as the "Conchs" are, there is another group, just to the outskirts of town, many of whom literally do not know the meaning of a hurricane. This group is comprised of World War I veterans, down on their luck but hard at work, many for the first time in years, building a bridge that will soon connect one key to the next. Tensions between the locals - black and white - and between the locals and the veterans come to a head when a local, white woman is found beaten almost beyond recognition and the sheriff is pressured to finger a killer or allow the town to enact its own justice.

I sped through Vanessa Lafaye's book one rainy afternoon recently. She captures the essence of the 1930s and, especially, of the Jim Crow South, perfectly. The characters' dialogue, as well as their relationships with one another, are such that this book can only be set in one time and place. As with The Help, with few exceptions the black characters tend to be the most sympathetic, and Lafaye seems to take especial pleasure in seeing that the most offensive of the characters receive their just dues. (Given that the historical note at the beginning explains that the 1935 Keys hurricane was the most powerful to ever strike North America - and that it struck a bitty backwater in the midst of the Depression - just dues is something that more than a few - deserving and undeserving alike - received.)

This is the second book I've read about a hurricane recently: The Promise is set during the 1900 hurricane in Galveston. There, the main characters find themselves alone on an isolated farm when the storm comes; here, the characters are sheltered in large groups. It's hard to decide which was more terrifying. It's equally hard to decide which is the "better" book, and in the end, I don't think I will. Under a Dark Summer Sky is wonderfully written and deeply complex. Anyone who loves good writing and good story telling will enjoy this glimpse into the past.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

The Promise

In mid-1900, Catherine Wainwright finds herself in the middle of a scandal of her making. Out of money, out of friends, and out of options, she packs her bags and moves from Dayton, Ohio, to Galveston, Texas, to marry the one man who has not shunned her. He is Oscar Williams, a childhood friend, recently widowed and with a young son who desperately needs a mother. Galveston is a shock enough to Catherine, but when she sees her new home, a modest dairy farm not yet fitted with electricity or indoor plumbing, Catherine's doubts mount. It doesn't help that Oscar's housekeeper, Nan, is none-too-pleased to see this newcomer who has irrevocably dashed any hope of Oscar (and his son) ever becoming hers. And then, just days after Catherine's arrival, a massive hurricane bears down on the island changing everything with its relentless wind and powerful waves.

Ann Weisgarber's The Promise is fiction writing at its best. She has created multi-dimensional characters who evoke every emotion from the reader, sometimes simultaneously. And she places these complicated people in the midst of one of the country's worst natural disasters, which she captures with the same precision and effect as the characters who are "living" it. (For those interested in learning more about the hurricane itself, Erik Larson's Isaac's Storm is a must read.)

This is a wonderful, pager-turner of a novel. Avid historical fiction readers should especially love it.