All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation

All the Single Ladies suffered for being neither what I had anticipated (a bit more objective history looking at the women's rights movements, I think, although with, perhaps, some profiles on notable singles such as Susan B. Anthony or historic "near singles" like Amelia Earhart or Hetty Green, either of whom I believe would definitely qualify as an independent woman), not particularly relatable.

In terms of the latter, I was bothered most by the feeling that Rebecca Traister's central argument seemed to be that marriage is generally a raw deal for women. I won't argue about the historical accuracy of that sentiment, but for a book written in 2016, it seemed remarkable un-modern. There was a passing nod to marriages that just might kinda sorta be equal, an ambivalent acknowledgement that some women earn more than their husbands, but I felt it was glossed over as quickly as possible so as not to get into the way of this problematic (for me) central premise.

I felt, too, that Traister concentrated too much on women in big cities - New York, Boston, Atlanta, DC - and not enough time exploring the experiences of those in small towns whose experiences are likely quite different from the hard charging women whose stories began to run together.

On the whole, I was disappointed.

Two stars.

A Duty to the Dead

A Duty to the Dead is a World War I-era mystery, starring Bess Crawford as Hercule Poirot. Bess is a nurse on the hospital ship Britannic when the ship hits a mine and she breaks her arm in the ensuing chaos. Forced to return to Britain and await new orders, Bess has the time to carry a dying message to the family of one of her most beloved patients. Unfortunately, it appears this message is the last thing the family wants. As Bess tries to unravel the who, what, and why, she finds herself drawn into the sphere of an ever more mysterious family, and - frankly - increasingly improbable circumstances.

What I liked: A Duty to the Dead is a quick read, and it's highly readable. I'd read The Walnut Tree by Charles Todd several years ago, so I was confident I like Todd's writing, and A Duty to the Dead didn't disappoint. Bess is spirited and Todd covers the period well.

What could have been better: The circumstances were entirely to improbable for me to fully immerse myself in the mystery. That said, I still enjoyed this book and would read another Bess Crawford mystery in the future (though where she gets the time to play private detective in the midst of the Great War is perhaps its own mystery!).

Four stars.

The Psychopath Inside: A Neuroscientist's Personal Journey into the Dark Side of the Brain

James Fallon is a neuroscientist who has spent decades studying patterns of brain activity when he discovered that the activity and structures of his own brain were highly similar to the patterns of the psychopathic brains he'd been analyzing. In a quest to understand how and where his hypotheses might be wrong - after all, he'd believed these particular patterns to be the domain of murderous madmen - he began to delve deeper into the genetics that determine so much of our thoughts, feelings, actions, and emotions.

On the whole, I thought The Psychopath Inside was a fascinating look into brains and the intersection between nature and nurture. It certainly made me want to learn more about my own brain activity and genetics. Fallon occasionally got a bit too deep into the weeds and as a result it sometimes felt more like I was reading a neuroscience text. On the whole, though, the book is highly readable and extremely interesting.

French Exit

If I were to describe Patrick deWitt's highly entertaining French Exit in a single word, it would be "quirky." Frances Price and her grown, but highly immature son, Malcolm, have lived a life of wealth and privilege, becoming increasingly eccentric as their money disappeared and the scandal around the death of their late husband and father, Frank, grew.

Yes, deWitt's novel has it all, all far as eccentricities grow, from an acquaintance who knows when a death is about to occur and communes with the dead to a mother and son who communicate with one another via separate phone lines installed in their respective bedrooms, to a cat possessed of the soul of the dearly deceased.

So what is this quirky little book? Once the money runs out, Frances and Malcolm book passage on an ocean liner and flee New York for Paris to begin again in the borrowed apartment of a friend. Thus installed, they befriend an equally quirky cast of characters and fill their days improbably, including in conversation with their cat. It's absurd, truly, and had I read the description before starting the book, I'd have been highly apprehensive that this was another Confederacy of Dunces. Fortunately, I didn't read the description that closely and, as a result, read and enjoyed French Exit.

Four stars.

This Cold Heaven: Seven Seasons in Greenland

I won't lie: this book was a slog. Several years ago I read - and loved - An African in Greenland, written in the 1960s, and hoped that Gretel Ehrlich's This Cold Heaven would be similar. While Ehrlich does weave the accounts of her own time in Greenland in the late 1990s throughout the book, it was mostly a re-hashing of those who had gone earlier, much, much earlier, with at least half the book devoted to recounting the voyages and work of Knud Rasmussen in the early twentieth century.

It's not that Rasmussen's voyages are uninteresting, but Erhlich is prone to philosophize a bit too much for my liking, particularly when reflecting back on those earlier travelers. I did eventually begin skimming such chapters as "The Time Between Two Winters, 1922" and "The Mackenzie Delta, 1924." Where Erhlich's work shines best is in describing the culture and people - as opposed, for example, to her sentiments on the universe when traversing the ice. Her accounts of the Children's House are fascinating, and I had to actively remind myself that the scenes she witnessed occurred when I was in high school. (In that sense, it was a bit similar to Call the Nurse, which is perhaps not surprising when considering the Hebrides in the 70s were virtually as remote as Greenland in the 90s!)

The strongest part of This Cold Heaven and the part I enjoyed most was the last hundred pages, which leaves Rasmussen and company behind almost entirely and tells instead of Ehrlich's time in Greenland in 1998 and 1999. It is here that she writes most of the people, the society, and the magnitude of the shift they are experiencing.

At the end of the day, though, this just wasn't close to my favorite memoir or best travel writing and I say only devotees of Greenlandic history need add this one to their list.

Two stars.

Meet You in Hell: Andrew Carnegie, Henry Clay Frick, and the Bitter Partnership That Changed America

I first learned of the connection between Andrew Carnegie and Henry Clay Frick in The Johnstown Flood (synopsis: dam on artificial lake for the pleasure of the likes of Carnegie and Frick fails and the ensuing flood kills thousands, but no one is held accountable). Meet You in Hell mentions the flood only in passing, but focuses much of its attention on a disaster of another sort, the Homestead strike of 1896, which was crushed by Frick.

In building to the climax, author Les Standiford details the complex rivalry and partnership between the two men. Frick was a coke magnet, coke being one of the key ingredients in the making of steel. In a bid to control coke supplies, and in conjunction with a much broader deal, Carnegie turned over the day-to-day management of his companies to Frick, who devised the strategy that crushed the unions. In the midst of ensuing bad press, Carnegie essentially disavowed any knowledge of Frick's plans setting the stage for a bitter feud that would last until their dying days. (The title is taken from Frick's response to Carnegie's near-deathbed request to meet. His response was that he'd meet him in hell, where they were both going, in Frick's estimation.) Certainly the decadence of the gilded age is on display here.

I previously enjoyed Standiford's Last Train to Paradise about another titan of industry and found Meet You in Hell to be a similar work. I hadn't heard of the Homestead strike, but couldn't help but think of the similarities between the battles between the steel workers and Frick and those between the miners and mine owners depicted in The Devil is Here in These Hills. 

Four stars.