The American Heiress (Take Two)

The opening pages of The American Heiress struck a familiar cord, and the nagging feeling that I'd read this all before increased until I could help but search this blog and discovered that, in fact, I had read this book two-and-a-half years ago. My verdict at the time? "Utterly forgettable, but also completely harmless." I was clearly on the money, for neither my own words, nor the many online reviews jogged my memory sufficiently for me to recall any of the details. I suppose I could have continued reading and been enlightened anew, but why spend my time reading for a second time a book I've already declared forgettable?

The Polar Bear Expedition: The Heroes of America's Forgotten Invasion of Russia, 1918-1919

I looked forward to The Polar Bear Expedition for the better part of the year, hoping that it would be similar to The Winter Fortress, another tale of wartime exploits in the polar north. Unfortunately, after two attempts at this one, I think I'm calling it quits.

James Carl Nelson catalogued the 1919 expedition that saw 5,000 American soldiers - including the Michigan-based 339th - battling the newly-formed Soviet Red Army. Also, the Spanish flu. These men expected to be headed to the Western Front when they enlisted (or were drafted) late in World War I, only to be shipped north of the Arctic Circle and into the throes of the Russian civil war and General Winter, that frozen season that did in Napoleon and would later do in the Wehrmacht.

While this under-known episode of World War I(ish) history is interesting in its own right, I got bogged down in the writing and found the book difficult to read for more than 20 minutes at a time. This is a case of an author having conducted a tremendous amount of research, but needing to edit it down to a more manageable and cohesive whole.

For those who are interested in every.last.aspect. of World War I, this might be a worthwhile and fulfilling read. For those who prefer their history to have more of a narrative feel, The Polar Bear Expedition is harder to recommend.

Last Christmas in Paris

Last Christmas in Paris is a Hazel Gaynor-Heather Webb historical novel written in the form of a collection of letters. In the few pages of narrative that open the book, one learns that Thomas Harding is an old man, and a dying one, but one determined to spend his last Christmas in Paris. It is 1969. Thomas takes with him a stack of letters from the first world war, which he intends to read in their entirety in Paris.

The correspondence consists largely, though not exclusively, between him and his best friend's sister, Evie Elliott. With the exception of a handful of narrative pages between each year (1914, 1915, and so on), the entire book takes the form of these letters, with the sporadic narrative filling in the gaps and allowing the reader to guess what secrets might be revealed in the course of the correspondence.

It's hard to know why this book struck me as so mediocre. Partly, the style (letter after letter after letter) wore on me. At times the writing was repetitive. What got to me most was how formulaic it felt. This is a narrative that's been mined time and again (especially in the craze for all things British Great War spawned by Downton Abbey), such that even the "twists" felt predictable. In other words:
Meh.

Meh plot, meh characters, meh writing. Or, as I evidently summed up a previous Hazel Gaynor read: this isn't a bad book. It's just not a great one, and there are too many of those for me to recommend this one wholeheartedly.

This was the second Gaynor and Webb book I've read recently (and the fourth Gaynor book I've read in the past several years). Interestingly, although the author names were familiar, I didn't initially realize that, as the two are so different. Although not perfect, I preferred Meet Me in Monaco, but can see that that period and location could easily influence a reader's preference for one over the other.

Three stars.

The Quintland Sisters

The world simply couldn't get enough of the Dionne quintuplets, who were born in rural Ontario on May 28, 1934. Early visitors included the likes of Clark Gable, Jimmy Stewart, and Amelia Earhart. In fact, three million visitors paid Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie a visit in the first decade of their life: the Dionne quintuplets and their province-built nursery, along with the good doctor, Dr. Dafoe, who was essentially raising them in this fish bowl, brought more than $50 million in tourist dollars into Ontario's coffers. "Quintland" and all things quintuplet became known, surpassed even Niagara Falls as a tourist attraction.

It is this aura of sensationalism that Shelley Wood seeks to capture in The Quintland Sisters. For this fictional account of the quints earliest years, based wholly but not exclusively in fact, Wood creates a nurse's assistant, if you will, in 17-year-old Emma Trimpany, who was present for the birth by way of assisting the midwife and then, as other caregivers come and go, remains at her station for the next five years.

The account of Quintland, the tug-of-war between the Dionnes and Dr. Dafoe, and that intervention by the state is fascinating. Wood's notes at the end describe her research, and it shows. This was a quick read, and an enjoyable one, right up to the end (on both counts). Unfortunately, the absolute end felt to me that it belonged in another book altogether. Without giving away the ending, I can say absolutely that I never I expected it, that I didn't understand it, and that the last 20 or 30 pages seemed entirely extraneous and their inclusion utterly perplexing.

Most of the book would be 4 stars, but when I factor in the ending, I land somewhere between 2 and 3. I enjoyed reading about the Dionnes (I was inspired to do a bit or research of my own after finishing this book), but as a reader, I just can't get behind The Quintland Sisters in its entirety...

A Caribbean Mystery

A Caribbean Mystery is quite possibly the first Agatha Christie book I've ever read where I guessed who dunnit correctly, and well before the final denouement. I can't say whether that's a positive or a negative; either way, this is classic Christie and delivers a page-turning delight.

Miss Marple has traveled to the Caribbean for some much needed R&R when what should occur at the resort, but a murder. Shocking, I know. In any event, Miss Marple can't help be feel that Major Palgrave's sudden death is connected to the stories he has been telling - loudly; repeatedly - about various murderers he's met in his life. In true Christie fashion, she begins investigating, seeking to stop the murderer before he - or she - strikes again.

I love Agatha Christie books. They remain my go to for quick, fun, relaxing reads, and while I long ago read my way through every Hercule Poirot book Dame Christie wrote, I somehow missed Miss Marple during my previous Christie binges.

Five stars.

The Secrets We Kept

Lara Prescott's The Secrets We Kept is the parallel narrative of Boris Pasternak's toil to finish - and publish - Dr. Zhivago and the CIA's mission to ensure that the latter occurs. To that end, the CIA employs two secretaries, one a seasoned spy last seen blowing bridges in the European theater, circa 1945, and the other, Irina, a total novice and daughter of Russian immigrants. As for Pasternak's life in Soviet Russia, it is as bleak as can be expected, with plenty of appearances by the secret police, stints in the gulag, and a general air of menace.

Each of the stories is interesting enough, though neither of them captured my attention in a way that made me feel I simply *had* to keep reading. Much of this I attribute to the characters, who generally struck me in much the same way as Sophie Duval in Meet Me in Monaco: none were ever more than mere characters to me, and I wasn't invested in what became of them in any capacity. The spy shenanigans were fun, and the period detail - early days of the CIA, Washington in the 1950s, that kind of thing - had much to recommend them.

More intriguing is that The Secrets We Kept was inspired by true events: yes, once upon a time, the CIA agitated to publish a book in an effort to change hearts and mind. On the one hand, it's amazing to consider such pre-internet tactics; on the other hand, there's more than a hint of the-more-things-change-the-more-they-stay-the-same when scanning headlines about Russian bots and social media. Hearts and minds have always been the key, it seems.

Three stars.

Salt: A World History

Salt: A World History is just that - a meandering tome exploring the history of the world as it has been impacted by salt. Who would write such a book? (Mark Kurlansky - who's also written on such comestibles as cod and milk, as well as Paper - Salt > Paper, for what it's worth.) Who would reach such a book? (Me. Also, at least 751 people who bothered to rate it on Amazon.) And yet, these are fair questions, after all how one could read or write 500 pages on such a basic substance?

The answer is lies in Kurlansky's approach. Displaying the same snappy style and inquisitive nature that he used in Food of a Younger Land, Kurlansky explores trade, war, engineering, voyages of discovery, cuisine, and the evolution of mankind through the lens of our biological need for salt. (As a commodity, it was once so valuable that people were paid in salt - the origin of the word salary. Who knew?)

It's the rare book that can cohesively stitch together the preparation of mummies in ancient Egypt and the creation of Tabasco sauce, but that is what Kurlansky has done in Salt. The entire book is peppered with obscure facts, zingy wit, and first rate writing. Although long, Kurlansky doesn't make the mistake of getting too deep in the weeds, and the entire book is accessible even to those with no prior knowledge of Salt, all of which is to say that this book is far better than its title might imply. Clearly, I need to add Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World to my reading list.

Five stars.

Meet Me in Monaco: A Novel of Grace Kelly's Royal Wedding

Meet Me in Monaco is a fluffy read, good for airplanes and beaches and those last few minutes before bed. Co-authors Hazel Gaynor and Heather Webb have created their story by imagining the life and times of the (fictional) struggling perfumer whose family workshop was saved when Grace Kelly commissioned her to create a singular scent for her wedding to Prince Rainier.

The women are thrown together when Grace, still a film star, seeks refuge from a photographer in Sophie Duval's small Cannes shop during the 1955 Cannes Film Festival. The photographer, James Henderson, stumbles in moments after Grace is safely hidden away. From these two, small encounters are born relationships that will ebb and flow through the decades, until Grace's untimely death in 1982.

While one images that Gaynor and Webb set out to create in Sophie a character who was sympathetic and likeable, I found James outshone her in that regard. In many ways, Sophie was actually one of the least enjoyable aspects of the book - James Henderson topped the list, but so did much of the narrative (Grace's journey to Monaco, the making of a scent, Cannes in winter).

Ultimately, Meet Me in Monaco is a three-and-a-half to four star read, easy and fun, no deep thinking required.