In past years, I've carefully charted out a formula that neatly determined how many books had the "right" to be considered the best. Last year, I carefully categorized books and presented the best by topic. I don't, frankly, have time for such shenanigans this year. What follows, instead, is a list of those books I would highly advise any avid reader to add to their list for the coming year.
Non-Fiction:
The Last Resort: A Memoir of Mishchief and Mayhem on a Family Farm in Africa
Black market currency dealers? Check. Backpacker lodge turned local hotspot for pimps, prostitutes, illegal diamond dealers, and government ministers? Check. Pot, power cuts, and police run amok? Check, check, check. Only in Zimbabwe.
Midnight in Broad Daylight: A Japanese American Family Caught Between Two Worlds
Or, perhaps better subtitled: what happens when half of a family is "interred" in America and the other half is conscripted to fight for the Japanese while living in Hiroshima. This is a fascinating, chilling, haunting read that will get you thinking about everything from loyalty and resiliency to how life is so seldom black-and-white,
right-and-wrong. And certainly about the human lives impacted by government decree, and about
how capricious it all is.
The Rescue Artist: A True Story of Art, Thieves, and the Hunt for a Missing Masterpiece
Of all the careers I never knew existed, art detective may top the list. Who knew? In any case, Charley Hill rescues art. He is Scotland Yard's art recovery man, and this is the man, and more to the
point, the profession, that Edward Dolnick brings to life in Rescue Artist.
Fiction:
Gutenberg's Apprentice
Peter Schoeffer a scribe-on-the-make,
recalled from Paris by his foster father in order to
become part of a harebrained new scheme to print books. Schoeffer is to be nothing less than Johann Gutenberg's apprentice and the rest, as they say, is history. Reading the author's note and discovering how much of the book was true
was the icing on the cake for me. Schoeffer and company not only really existed, but based on historical records,
existed largely as author Alix Christie portrayed them. For a connoisseur of
excelling historical fiction, there are few happier conclusions than
learning that it really happened the way the author said.
West of Sunset
Zelda and Scott. What couple better embodies the Roaring Twenties? West of Sunset is set well beyond the roar, though, deep into the years of madness and drink. No longer golden children, Zelda is locked away in an Asheville asylum and Scott is desperate often destitute, torn between the past and the
present, obsessed with his failures, and resolving to be better. Stewart O'Nan's Scott feels absolutely authentic.
Lucky Us
Amy Bloom has created an entire cast of memorable characters, each with
their own personalities, quirks, and, perhaps most importantly, flaws.
And she has done this using some of the most beautiful prose I have read
in a long time. Most notably, Lucky Us contains two of the best quotes I encountered all year:
"The wicked people of the world are not supposed to be calm and
composed." Another character explains her aversion to religion concisely with this beauty: "she absolutely did not believe that a white man was going to
come back from his own lynching to help out Clara Williams or take her
hand or be her friend."
The Summer Before the War
England, 1913. The inhabitants of quaint, little Rye feel the drumbeat of war and are prepared to do their part, and out do their neighbors, to defend their King and country. Helen Simonson tackles more heavy topics in a single book than many authors span in several: war crimes, racial discrimination, homosexuality (remember, this is 1913), unwed motherhood (I repeat, it's 1913), loyalty, patriotism, and women's rights come to mind in a hurry. Yet she does it deftly, softly, almost, so that this book is not a dark and gloomy slog, but a quiet day's journey into the English countryside.
The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend
This is a book about books. It is a book for and about people who prefer the
company of books to that of other humans. Anyone who has ever loved
reading so much that they've turned down an invitation or marinated in
the stew of so-many-books, so-little-time will be able to relate to the protagonists, Sara
and Amy.
Happy New Year and, as always, Happy Reading!
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West
I would love to report that I've sent 2016 out with a bang, but unfortunately, the last book on my list this year is one I couldn't quite finish. I've read just more than one-third and determined I've learned more than enough about Lewis and Clark. I will say this: Stephen Ambrose is nothing, if not thorough, (re)recording everything from the daily highs to the miles the expedition made on any given day. (I occasionally felt I was reliving an adolescent family vacation during which we drove no small part of the Lewis and Clark, but that is a story for another day.)
Also, Lewis and Clark make the pioneers look like they had it easy. I cannot help but be continually amazed at the litany of tasks an individual used to accomplish in a given day or week or month or year. Lewis was not yet in his third decade when Jefferson tasked him with opening the West; the fact that he saved a party from Indians when he was only 10 seems only natural.
Ambrose resolutely makes the case that the Lewis and Clark expedition was possibly the most important undertaking in U.S. history, and certainly that the repercussions and reverberations shaped the country into what it is today. Undaunted Courage is well-researched and well-written. It is a good book. It is also a long book, written for an audience with a greater interest in the nitty-gritty of Lewis and Clark's days. If this is you, by all means, read it. If this doesn't describe you, I predict it would make for a long, hard slog. Which is perhaps appropriate, given the subject matter.
Also, Lewis and Clark make the pioneers look like they had it easy. I cannot help but be continually amazed at the litany of tasks an individual used to accomplish in a given day or week or month or year. Lewis was not yet in his third decade when Jefferson tasked him with opening the West; the fact that he saved a party from Indians when he was only 10 seems only natural.
Ambrose resolutely makes the case that the Lewis and Clark expedition was possibly the most important undertaking in U.S. history, and certainly that the repercussions and reverberations shaped the country into what it is today. Undaunted Courage is well-researched and well-written. It is a good book. It is also a long book, written for an audience with a greater interest in the nitty-gritty of Lewis and Clark's days. If this is you, by all means, read it. If this doesn't describe you, I predict it would make for a long, hard slog. Which is perhaps appropriate, given the subject matter.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
The Cherry Harvest
I can't pinpoint the exact point where The Cherry Harvest "jumped the shark" for me, but I can affirm positively that as I approached the end, I was no longer buying what Lucy Sanna was selling.
The book begins well enough, with the Christiansen family struggling to make ends meet as World War II grinds on and the pool of available men to harvest the cherry crop has completely and utterly disappeared - that is, except for the possibility of using German POWs, a possibility that only strong-willed Charlotte is able to contemplate. Charlotte successfully badgers first her husband, the mild-mannered Thomas, and then the town's leaders into allowing this, only to face undreamed of consequences when her son returns from Europe wounded, broken, and bitter.
The biggest challenge for me in really buying into The Cherry Harvest had to do with both the number of events occurring in a highly condensed time frame, the number of unlikely coincidences required for the pieces to fit together, and the unlikelihood of so many of the individual events occurring, let alone occurring in rapid succession. Couple that with an incredibly rushed ending and...yeah. While I'm on the topic, my biggest beef has got to be how hurried the ending is. Sanna relies on an Epilogue to tie up some of her plot, but a few lines to resolve key plot points left me feeling cheated, to say the least.
The character of Kate, the daughter, was the best developed, and her character is certainly the most sympathetic, particularly as she struggles with her loyalties to her parents and brother Ben.
Final verdict: there's a lot of good (historical) fiction out there. The Cherry Harvest was too over-the-top for me to class it in the top tier.
The book begins well enough, with the Christiansen family struggling to make ends meet as World War II grinds on and the pool of available men to harvest the cherry crop has completely and utterly disappeared - that is, except for the possibility of using German POWs, a possibility that only strong-willed Charlotte is able to contemplate. Charlotte successfully badgers first her husband, the mild-mannered Thomas, and then the town's leaders into allowing this, only to face undreamed of consequences when her son returns from Europe wounded, broken, and bitter.
The biggest challenge for me in really buying into The Cherry Harvest had to do with both the number of events occurring in a highly condensed time frame, the number of unlikely coincidences required for the pieces to fit together, and the unlikelihood of so many of the individual events occurring, let alone occurring in rapid succession. Couple that with an incredibly rushed ending and...yeah. While I'm on the topic, my biggest beef has got to be how hurried the ending is. Sanna relies on an Epilogue to tie up some of her plot, but a few lines to resolve key plot points left me feeling cheated, to say the least.
The character of Kate, the daughter, was the best developed, and her character is certainly the most sympathetic, particularly as she struggles with her loyalties to her parents and brother Ben.
Final verdict: there's a lot of good (historical) fiction out there. The Cherry Harvest was too over-the-top for me to class it in the top tier.
Friday, December 16, 2016
The Perfume Collector
Grace Monroe is 28-years-old, a socialite who runs with titled set in 1950s England, and utterly uninspired by it all. Her life is turned on its head when she learns she has inherited a considerable fortune from a Parisian named Eva d'Orsey whose name she has never heard, and whose connection she cannot fathom.
Rather than simply sign on the line, Grace feels compelled to learn more of who Eva was and why she selected her to receive such bounty. Much to the exasperation of her lawyer in Paris, to say nothing of her friends and husband, Grace leaves no stone unturned, ultimately uncovering more than she bargained for.
The Perfume Collector is essentially two stories, that of Grace, a 1950s socialite, and that of Eva, a New York chambermaid who inspired three perfumes before the untimely death of the perfumer who adored her. (In that sense, Kathleen Tessaro's book seems slightly misnamed: as best I can tell, there was no perfume collector, only a perfume maker and a muse.) On the whole, I enjoyed this book, although there were a few details that Tessaro seemed to simply abandon as the story progressed. I'm still scratching my head, for example, about the multiple mentions of the "black Daimlers," which in the end are neither mentioned nor resolved and seemed to serve no purpose.
The character of Grace, too, contained a number of frustration contradictions. She alternates between a spine of steel (breaking into an abandoned building!) and the courage of a jellyfish (her interactions with her friend Mallory and, to a lesser extent, her husband). As for Eva, I would have liked to see more of her "grown-up" character, particularly her war years experiences. As it is, we learn of these through her proxy, Madame Zed.
That said, The Perfume Collector is a page-turner. I read the entire book in two sittings and was invested in Grace's story. This may not have been the *best* book I've read this year, but it is plenty good.
3.5 stars
Rather than simply sign on the line, Grace feels compelled to learn more of who Eva was and why she selected her to receive such bounty. Much to the exasperation of her lawyer in Paris, to say nothing of her friends and husband, Grace leaves no stone unturned, ultimately uncovering more than she bargained for.
The Perfume Collector is essentially two stories, that of Grace, a 1950s socialite, and that of Eva, a New York chambermaid who inspired three perfumes before the untimely death of the perfumer who adored her. (In that sense, Kathleen Tessaro's book seems slightly misnamed: as best I can tell, there was no perfume collector, only a perfume maker and a muse.) On the whole, I enjoyed this book, although there were a few details that Tessaro seemed to simply abandon as the story progressed. I'm still scratching my head, for example, about the multiple mentions of the "black Daimlers," which in the end are neither mentioned nor resolved and seemed to serve no purpose.
The character of Grace, too, contained a number of frustration contradictions. She alternates between a spine of steel (breaking into an abandoned building!) and the courage of a jellyfish (her interactions with her friend Mallory and, to a lesser extent, her husband). As for Eva, I would have liked to see more of her "grown-up" character, particularly her war years experiences. As it is, we learn of these through her proxy, Madame Zed.
That said, The Perfume Collector is a page-turner. I read the entire book in two sittings and was invested in Grace's story. This may not have been the *best* book I've read this year, but it is plenty good.
3.5 stars
Thursday, December 8, 2016
The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper
Given that the story is British, the most apt adjective for it is probably "lovely." It really is. Phaedra Patrick's The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper is just a delightful little story of the recently-widowed septuagenarian Arthur Pepper, who discovers a charm bracelet as he is cleaning out his late wife's belongings on the first anniversary of her death. Following its discovery, Arthur embarks on a quest to uncover the stories behind the charms.
His wife, Miriam, it seems led a varied and exciting life before she met him and settled down in the shadow of York Minster. In fact, the more of her life he discovers, the more he is certain that she couldn't really have been as happy with their quiet life together as she had seemed. Arthur begins to ask himself if, even after 40+ years, you can ever really know another person.
As I said, this is a lovely story, a quick read, but with deeper issues to be pondered just below the surface. For Phaedra Patrick has really created a story about the malleability of memory, both what we choose to forget, as well as how what we remember can change shape with the passage of time. Patrick does this in a subtle enough way, never bludgeoning her reader with the heavy stuff, such that one can just as happily read about Arthur Pepper's adventures when seeking a light read as when in a brooding mood.
Most impressively, Patrick has created a bevy of unique characters about whom I cared and for whose successes I cheered. I finished this book wanting more, thinking about where a sequel might lead.
Five stars.
His wife, Miriam, it seems led a varied and exciting life before she met him and settled down in the shadow of York Minster. In fact, the more of her life he discovers, the more he is certain that she couldn't really have been as happy with their quiet life together as she had seemed. Arthur begins to ask himself if, even after 40+ years, you can ever really know another person.
As I said, this is a lovely story, a quick read, but with deeper issues to be pondered just below the surface. For Phaedra Patrick has really created a story about the malleability of memory, both what we choose to forget, as well as how what we remember can change shape with the passage of time. Patrick does this in a subtle enough way, never bludgeoning her reader with the heavy stuff, such that one can just as happily read about Arthur Pepper's adventures when seeking a light read as when in a brooding mood.
Most impressively, Patrick has created a bevy of unique characters about whom I cared and for whose successes I cheered. I finished this book wanting more, thinking about where a sequel might lead.
Five stars.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
The Mirrored World
Occasionally, I finish a book and find myself struggling to describe it in a meaningful way. That was the case with The Mirrored World. I chose this book for its relatively unique setting (at least as far as historical fiction is concerned): St. Petersburg in the years immediately before Catherine the Great ascended the throne. Unfortunately, save for the occasional glimpse of the Neva or description of the Winter Palace, the city itself was a relatively minor character.
At the most basic level, Debra Dean's novel is the story of cousins Dasha and Xenia, whose families are loosely connected to the royal court, and the latter of whom eventually marries one of the court's choristers, Colonel Andrei Feodorovich. When he dies tragically, Xenia descends rapidly into madness, distributing all of her wealth and possessions to the poor, while cousin Xenia tries futilely to help her overcome her grief.
I did not realize until after I'd finished the book and begin doing a bit of research that Xenia and Andrei were, in fact, a real couple, and that she became St. Xenia (saint day: September 11), a "holy fool" beloved by the residents of her city and famous for her sense of clairvoyance. The character of Dasha, as best I can tell, is Dean's own work.
Ultimately, I felt rather ambivalent about this book. Learning of St. Xenia lends a level of interest to it, and Dean's prose is fluid and beautiful, but I just wasn't that invested in what happened to either Xenia or Dasha, and I was admittedly disappointed by the fact that St. Petersburg, which looms so large in life, was relegated to such a supporting role in this book.
At the most basic level, Debra Dean's novel is the story of cousins Dasha and Xenia, whose families are loosely connected to the royal court, and the latter of whom eventually marries one of the court's choristers, Colonel Andrei Feodorovich. When he dies tragically, Xenia descends rapidly into madness, distributing all of her wealth and possessions to the poor, while cousin Xenia tries futilely to help her overcome her grief.
I did not realize until after I'd finished the book and begin doing a bit of research that Xenia and Andrei were, in fact, a real couple, and that she became St. Xenia (saint day: September 11), a "holy fool" beloved by the residents of her city and famous for her sense of clairvoyance. The character of Dasha, as best I can tell, is Dean's own work.
Ultimately, I felt rather ambivalent about this book. Learning of St. Xenia lends a level of interest to it, and Dean's prose is fluid and beautiful, but I just wasn't that invested in what happened to either Xenia or Dasha, and I was admittedly disappointed by the fact that St. Petersburg, which looms so large in life, was relegated to such a supporting role in this book.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)