Dry as dust. That pretty much sums up not only the water situation in Los Angeles 100+ years ago (and again recently, save for the recent rains), but Les Standiford's account of one man's personal mission to bring water to the city and ensure its future viability and prosperity.
Now, before I go any further, I must acknowledge that I did not finish Water to the Angels. In fact, I made it only about one-third of the way through before I allowed myself to give up for good. Normally a voracious reader once I begin a book, I've been plugging away at this one one or two pages at a time for roughly a month. Why? I believe much of the dryness comes from a lack compelling narrative, a lack of character development, and a lack of colorful language (not the unprintable kind, just the kind that livens up the recounting of a meeting that occurred 112 years ago).
I have no doubt that there is a good story in how Los Angeles got its water. Cumulatively, the reviewers on Amazon have given this book 4.5 stars. So it might just be me. Clearly, every historical event must stand on its own, but when I consider the really excellent non-fiction I've read in the recent past (The Fall of the House of Dixie, for example, or A Good Place to Hide), this one just doesn't hold a candle.
No comments:
Post a Comment