The Widow's War

The Widow's War has been on my reading list since a librarian recommended it to me last fall. Given the title, it shouldn't spoil the story to say the main character, Lyddie, is a widow, made that way by whaling. Knowing that, I expected something along the lines of Ahab's Wife or even Hetty Green. But while whaling is certainly central to the story, The Widow's War is more more focused on women's rights in Colonial America than on the principal way by which the male population of Cape Cod makes its living. In that sense, its heroine has much in common with those of They Fought Like Demons (real heroines) and One Thousand White Women (imagined), for Lyddie yearns only to know freedom in all of its forms.

Edward Berry was a whaler, his wife long accustomed to managing in his absence. It comes as a shock, then, that his will renders her a ward of her son-in-law. Edward's death sets the stage for Lyddie's war. It is a war that will pit her against family, friends, and church, for her desire to direct her own life is so counter to the times as to estrange her from everything and everyone she once held dear.

Sally Cabot Gunning has endowed Lyddie with an endearing, determined nature, couple with a stubborn streak a mile wide. I couldn't help but alternately cheer for Lyddie and be utterly exasperated by her choices. Like a real flesh and blood human, Lyddie is complex, equal parts sympathetic and obnoxious. This, too, rings true.

In the end, if I did not love The Widow's War, I liked it very much and have no qualms about recommending it to avid readers of historical fiction. Those with a penchant for colonial-era literature should particularly enjoy it.

Ahab's Wife: Or, The Star-gazer

Una Spenser is Ahab's wife, he of Moby Dick fame. She is also daughter, mother, niece, cousin, friend, and neighbor, determined at every turn to live an interesting life. This was not so easily done in 1830, yet, Sena Jeter Naslund has created just such a life for her protagonist-heroine.

Una journeys from Kentucky to New England on the cusp of adolescence, and then at 16 disguises herself as a boy that she may go a-whaling. Seeking adventure,Una gets far more than she bargained for when her ship is stove and she finds herself adrift in a small whaleboat day-after-unrelenting-day. Lesser "men" than she are broken by the experience, but quietly and unceremoniously, Una moves forth. Later she is Mrs. Captain, with a grand house and a small fortune at her disposal. Here, too, she manages to surround herself with interesting people and interesting passions. One has the feeling she would have liked Hetty Green, another woman made wealthy by the whale. 

With Ahab's Wife, Naslund has created a masterful story; she is a reader's writer, with prose that whirls across the pages, tighter and tighter like the dance of a dervish. At times, one might wish the dance would end (at 668 pages, it is certainly long), or at least be re-ordered such that fewer words are spilled on, say, the stars, and more for the characters, relationships, and events that are the true strength of this story. This is a minor criticism, though, and one that should not prevent the prospective reader from cracking the cover. I had a similar criticism of To Serve Them All My Days, which weighs in at an almost-identical 676 pages, but which I also liked very, very much.

Anyone who loves a good story, particularly a story set in a long-ago time and place, will not be disappointed by what Naslund has wrought.

The Whale: In Search of the Giants of the Sea

So this book was, like, $1. And I was heading to Japan, meaning 28 hours on a plane, plus many more on trains, etc. I like whales. I like whale watching (most recently in Maui last March at right and below), and I like science writing. (See my review of David Quammen's brilliant essays, for evidence of this). So, I figured why not? The answer is that, I'm sorry, but it was really, really boring. As in, at one point I was hoping that hour-after-hour might lull me to sleep, but no dice and so I continued, awake but bored all the way to Detroit.

Much of the book - or at least of the first half - read like an erudite book report on Moby Dick, which I didn't read for a reason. The history of whaling in America was fascinating, especially knowing a different side of the industry from The Richest Woman in America.  Occasionally, Philip Hoare would offer some nice insight, such as his observation that, "through whaling, America reached across the world for the first time; whaling exported its culture and ideas," but mostly I was bored. Also, his case -  or mine - was not helped by my visions of whale bacon, a Japanese delicacy on display at the Tsukiji Fish Market (and whose picture I have helpfully included below), and which I could not sufficiently banish, especially during Hoare's descriptions of rending the blubber. On the other hand, the comment about America exporting itself through whaling probably stuck because of the way our Tsukiji market guide noted that it was the Americans who taught the Japanese to hunt whales. Whatever the case, between my visions of whale bacon and the tiresome Moby Dick, I was done for.