Books Completed Since July 1

 The Wars of the Roosevelts, William J. Mann
You will come away from this book with one overwhelming thought: it was tough to be a Roosevelt. No one showed pity on Elliot Roosevelt when he developed a debilitating illness that drove him to drink; instead brother Theodore told him to buck up, and when he didn't, confined him to an asylum. Indefatigable "Teddy" fagged out his own children by taking them on cross-country hikes from an early age and reminding them that they had to "go through" and were not allowed to take an easier route. These outings terrified little Eleanor Roosevelt when she came to visit. In adulthood the children of T.R. never thought they were good enough; eldest son Ted spent years and health trying to live up to his father, and son Kermit never did. Daughter Alice did not know until when she was older how much her father had loved her mother, and grew up feeling unloved herself, which only hardened her resolve to be "on top." Nor could her belittled cousin Eleanor Roosevelt, with all her good works, ever live up to what her mother-in-law thought her son Franklin deserved.

The big reveal in this book is the story of Elliot Roosevelt Mann, Elliot's illegitimate son by Katie Mann, a housemaid; the case turned over to Theodore, Katie Mann was supposed to receive money, but the man he picked to do so was a thief and kept the money for himself. Despite never having received funds, the tough woman made sure her son had a good upbringing and as an adult he was a self-made man who lived a good life.

I'm a big admirer of Theodore Roosevelt, but this book reveals a lot of his failings; while he has my respect in his public life, some of his private life left much to be desired, as did his cousin Franklin. This book vividly portrays the rivalries of the two branches of the Roosevelt family and how spiteful they were to each other, and how difficult it was for Eleanor to forge a rewarding life for herself.

 Re-read: A-Going to the Westward, Lois Lenski
Having once again watched the "Gone West" episode of Alistair Cooke's America, I felt the urge to re-read this historical by Lenski. She is most well-known for her regional novels like Strawberry Girl, Prairie School, Judy's Journey, etc. and the similar "Roundabout America" books for younger children, but she also did a half-dozen or so historical books, the best known which is Indian Captive.

Everyone seems to know the story of the pioneers who crossed the prairies to reach the Gold Rush, or to settle the "Great American Desert," and of the settlers vs. the cowboys, but there was an earlier westward movement, which Cooke mentions in "Gone West," the journeys of the new Americans who traveled to "the Ohio Country" or the Western Reserve. The Bartletts are just one of these new American families "a-going to the Westward" to join an uncle, and twelve-year-old Betsy must handle the grief of leaving her home and best friend. They are joined by one of their church deacons, cobbler Joel Blodgett, Reuben Bartlett's other brother Robert, and the redoubtable Matilda Stebbins, a spinster who is on her way to Ohio to be reunited with her niece, and,  unfortunately, by the rowdy Perkins family: coarse and often drunken Jed, ever-ill Parthenia, and their two children Ezekiel and Florilla. Jed is glad to be leaving Connecticut with its Blue Laws and strict Calvinist teachings, and he has a burning desire to best the Bartletts and their "annoying piety."

Today this would be considered a very strange children's book, but I've always loved it from my teens because Lenski tries hard to stick to the child-rearing and stoic customs of the times. The children do not expect to be hugged and coddled unless they are very ill, and the adults do not comfort or support them as they would today. No one is told it's okay to cry, or to shirk on chores in an emergency; Betsy is always knitting or sewing—no playing dolls for her. At one point Betsy is left behind and, while her parents do worry, they fully expect responsible Betsy will fall in with another family going west and will join them in Pittsburgh. Lenski is also unstinting about the hardships of the western trail: there are no merry days picking flowers and enjoying nature, but there are many days when the breakdown of their wagons, or a stopover at a dirty inn with drunken men, or long days of rain sorely test the resolution of the family. Conniving Jed Perkins is also determined to sabotage the Bartletts' progress and is a continual thorn in their sides.

Another aspect of the story is the Connecticut Yankee meeting strange and new cultures on their journey. As they travel through Pennsylvania they meet the Ermintritt family, a hard-working clan of "Pennsylvania Dutch" heading west as well, and while the adults initially distrust the German-speakers and think they are continually swearing at them, Betsy makes a new friend in twelve-year-old Lotte. Once arrived at their homestead, they must get used to the Kentucky-bred Scruggs family who distrust book-learning and think the Yankees are snooty. There is also as much story about the adults as there is about the four children; "Aunt" Matilda and merry Joel and bookish Uncle Rob and Reuben and Roxana Bartlett, plus characters like Herr Ermintritt, the German innkeepers, their flatboat pilot, and the elderly German man Betsy meets all have their stories and their experiences on swollen rivers, in crowded wayside inns, riding in wagons that overturn or jounce teeth against teeth as they bounce through the ruts. This book is worth reading even if just once to see how the first westward pioneers endured and prevailed on the trail.

 Sire and Damn, Susan Conant
I'm guessing this is Conant's last Holly Winter mystery; this is one of the two I accidentally found last year while looking for another book. The cast of characters is kind of confusing, so here's the handy guide: Holly is married to Steve Delaney the vet, of course; her dad Buck and stepmother Gabrielle appear briefly at the end (Holly's cousin Leah and one of her malemutes, Kimi, are offstage). The majority of the plot concerns Holly's friend and former tenant Rita's upcoming wedding, marrying Quinn Youngman, who saved Kimi's life in the last book. Quinn's parents, MaryJo and Monty, are coming to the wedding, as are Rita's mother Erica and father Al (who arrive late in the book); staying with Holly is Rita's cousin Zara and her psychiatric service dog Izzy, also on hand is Zara's vituperous mother Vicky (Erica's sister, hence Rita's aunt) who is married to Dave (who isn't in on the action) and also Uncle Oscar (Vicky and Erica's uncle) is staying with Rita. Also there is Rita and Zara's cousin John. Got that all now?

Anyway, the first odd thing that happens is that someone tries to swipe Izzy while Zara is walking her. Then, while most of the family is at a nearby restaurant, someone breaks into Rita's house and takes her little Scottie Willie, but he's found the very next day. Unfortunately, a bloody fireplace poker is also lying in the room where Rita and Quinn were keeping their wedding gifts. The person who was hit with the poker is soon found in the Charles River, a smalltime crook named Frankie Sorenson.

And then someone does indeed steal Izzy. But what does it all mean? Why would someone steal a shelter dog? And who caught the burglar in the act and...acted? Sure, Uncle Oscar was home, but Monty took a long time in the men's room and both Vicky and Zara went back to Rita's house during dinner and John didn't come at all.

All I can say is that I know why Rita became a psychiatrist and Zara needs a psychiatric dog with this bunch of nutcase relatives. The family wangling is more convoluted than the mystery plot, and there are enough shenanigans to make Freud run away screaming. It's nice to have Holly and her wonderful dogs back for one more performance, but the mystery lacks in this one.

 The Gilded Age: 1876-1912, Overture to the American Century, Alan Axelrod
This is a gorgeous coffee-table-type illustrated book about what Mark Twain first called "the Gilded Age," that era between the Centennial celebration and 1912, when the United States became a world power and the antics and the actions of the wealthy "one percent" of the era captured the fancy of the press—also a time of industrialization and great poverty especially in the cities, revealed by the photography of Jacob Riis and others.

The volume is divided into two sections, people and things, and form and reform. In the first you'll learn about the cast of characters of the era: the robber barons, the yellow journalists, the society people who built multiroomed "summer cottages" in Newport, Rhode Island, the scientists and the inventors, the department stores and the electrical dynamos, the Statue of Liberty and the dangerous factories.  In the second, the movement for black rights and women's rights, worker reforms, the rise of the Progressive party, the closing of the American Frontier, imperialism and the Spanish-American War.

Liberally illustrated with old photos, chromos, prints, advertisements, and artwork; a grand overview of this time of great change. In addition, Axelrod compares the Gilded Age with our own modern era of "the one percent."

 Murder at Rough Point, Alyssa Maxwell
Having just finished a book about the Gilded Age, this was a natural follow-on. This is the fourth in Maxwell's "Gilded Newport" series starring Emma Cross, newspaper reporter and one of the Vanderbilt "poor relations." Emma has been asked to cover a house party of artists and writers at Rough Point, the estate owned by a distant Vanderbilt cousin. To her surprise and dismay, two of the guests are her footloose Bohemian parents, who, after leaving Emma and her brother for years, all of a sudden want to make up with her. And then one of the guests is found dead at the bottom of a cliff. Emma must watch her own back, worry about her parents, and wonder if her new friend, the novelist Edith Wharton, had any part in the death.

This is a very atmospheric entry in this series, which is set at the home that was later the estate of heiress Doris Duke. I have to hand it to Maxwell for describing the storm that traps the occupants of Rough Point so well. She made it sound very ominous and claustrophobic. However, as the story goes along it develops a little Agatha Christie overtone. Emma and Edith make a good sleuthing pair. In the meantime, Emma's relationship with Jesse takes another step forward. A solid entry in this series, with the modernisms at a minimum.

 Edward & Alexandra, Richard Hough
I've been interested in Edward VII since I saw the British series Edward the Seventh. Certainly "Bertie" was not an ideal person, but he was handicapped from childhood by his mother Queen Victoria's insistence he be just like his father Prince Albert. He was not a scholar like his father or his sister Vicky; in fact, in his youth he was a lot like his mother, who loved to dance and socialize until her husband exerted his influence over her. His faults were many, but I always wonder what would have happened if he was trained to his strengths instead of his weaknesses and if Queen Victoria had allowed him to take responsibility for some court business, since he was a natural at socializing.

This is the story of his relationship with his wife Alexandra, who, despite her austere upbringing as the daughter of the impoverished King of Denmark, could also be spoiled and thoughtless as well as generous and patient. Hough vividly paints "Bertie's" sad childhood and dissolute adulthood as he longed to do something useful other than stand in for his mourning mother at ceremonial functions and was not permitted. He wasn't even allowed to be alone when he spent time in an army barracks and went to university. He could only choose his wife from a limited stable of suitable royals. If anyone praised him, Queen Victoria scoffed at the fact he could be bright at anything. Alexandra, for her part, was long-suffering with the matter of her husband's mistresses and the scandals he was mixed up in (most of them not being his fault). On his deathbed, she invited his current mistress to visit him.

I enjoyed reading this "dual biography" that gives more attention to Alexandra than most books that concentrate solely on Edward VII.

 The Summer Before the War, Helen Simonson
I don't usually buy "chick lit" but I found the cover and the summary of this book intriguing and decided to try it. It typifies mostly why I don't like "chick lit."

Beatrice Nash has been offered a job teaching Latin in the small English town of Rye, mainly on the recommendation of one of the town's female "movers and shakers," Agatha Kent, who has a rivalry with the mayor's wife. She also befriends stolid and dependable Hugh Grange, Agatha's nephew, and his cousin Daniel Bookham, a poet and dreamer. Until school begins she tutors three teenage boys, including "Snout," the grandson of a Gypsy family who tries not to let on he really likes Latin and schooling. But it is the summer of 1914, and in July comes the terrible news that war has begun in Europe.

There's a lot to like about this book: it shows small-town life and rivalries one hundred years ago, and how the small towns mobilized for the war by throwing patriotic parades and having women knit and taking in Belgian refugees who yet are still considered with distrust. It portrays the disparity between the treatment of men and of women and will infuriate you, and how the Roma people were marginalized and distrusted by the village population. It is especially heartbreaking what happens to one of the Gypsy population. There is also a subplot about a young woman and her professor father who have been rescued from Belgium, and a townsman who is pressing them and other refugees for propaganda stories. On the other hand, the plot is quite predictable. Beatrice is intelligent and independent, but trapped by male mores. Hugh is in love with the doctor's daughter, who ends up using her wiles, as did many young girls back then, to push men into going into the army by handing them a white feather for cowardice. David's friendship with another young man can be interpreted as something else. Even sweet-tempered Agatha has her social snobberies—and her secrets. And so on.

I did like the portrait of small-town England in the first few months of the first World War, but otherwise, except for a few final chapters which take place in the trenches and are horrifyingly real, the plot is rather mundane.

 Fly Girls, Keith O'Brien
Once the Wright Brothers and their other American, French, and British compatriots proved that aviation was the new frontier, other men longed to fly—and so did women. As with other pursuits at the turn of the twentieth century, like driving an automobile or voting or doing anything else men thought was solely their purview, the women were told this was impossible: they weren't athletic enough to fly one of the unstable devices, or didn't have enough brain power to remember all the skills needed, and that flying a plane would make them less feminine. Still, a group of women persisted, including the most famous name in the panoply, Amelia Earhardt, and other female flyers with even more experience than Earhardt, includeding Florence Klingensmith, Ruth Elder, Ruth Nichols, and Louise Thaden, who worked for aircraft design pioneer Walter Beech. It's also the story of Cliff Henderson, the founder of the Reno Air Races, and his decision to allow woman to compete in air races.

Competitive flying in those days, for both men and women, was not for the faint-hearted. Along with the triumphs of the "aviatrixes" there were terrible crashes, aborted excursions, and always the damnation of the majority of men (not to mention other women) who said flying was too strenuous and simply too much for poor little women. Battling the same equipment failures, bad weather, poor maps and navigation aids, and money problems as the men, plus their prejudices, the women nevertheless set aviation records, participated in long-distance races, and even challenged the men in speed races. With hairsbreath escapes and stubborn courage, they won their place in aviation records, but nevertheless most of them, except for Earhardt due to her mysterious disappearance, have vanished from memory. This book brings them vibrantly to life, and chronicles their failures and triumphs in brisk, vivid prose. A perfect choice for aviation buffs and those interested in women's advances during the 20th century.

 The Hammett Hex, Victoria Abbott
Jordan Bingham, bookfinder for Harrison Falls' most reclusive citizen, Vera Van Alst, has a chance to go to San Francisco with her policeman boyfriend, Tyler Dekker. To placate Vera, who doesn't want her to take a vacation, she promises that while she is in Dashiell Hammett's hometown she'll track down a signed first edition of his famed book Red Harvest. She has less success placating the uncles who raised her—while they've been sweet to her, they have had dealings on the wrong side of the law and don't really trust her new beau.

Then once they get to San Francisco, Tyler surprises her by asking if she would go with him to visit his grandmother. His parents were estranged from her and he just recently renewed her acquaintance. Jordan's afraid this is just a prelude to a proposal and she's not sure she wants to be tied down yet. But when on their first night there she's almost run down by a car, and then on the second day she's pushed off a cable car, both of them realize there's something else going on.

The change of venue from Harrison Falls to San Francisco gives this series a neat lift and Grandma Jean is positively one of the best characters ever, as is her slightly ominous companion Zoya. Add to that a threatening turn at the hotel, hidden bugging devices, and a ditzy Yuppie mother named Sierra, and this becomes a very entertaining mystery. Even Jordan's loose cannon Uncle Kevin is used to good effect rather than just offbeat as he's been presented in at least one of the other books.

Sadly, I haven't seen a newer book than this for two years, which makes me believe the series has ended. I'm sad, because I've quite enjoyed these stories.

 Dark Tide Rising, Anne Perry
In this newest William Monk mystery, head of the river police Monk is asked by frantic land developer Harry Exeter to help him deliver a ransom for his kidnapped wife Kate. Exeter has managed to scrape together the money but is unfamiliar with the locale for the trade-off, a fetid neighborhood called Jacob's Island. Since Exeter is allowed to bring someone with him, Monk arranges for his most trusted colleagues to go with them, including his assistant Hooper, who he's come to like, but who is hiding a secret he fears will be revealed by Monk's investigation. But Kate is murdered savagely once the money is delivered and disappears, even after certain changes were made to the plan to deliver the ransom, and Monk realizes one of his men must have betrayed them. Who was it? And who was the person who murdered Kate? The lowlife who went around his neighborhood flashing money? The bank manager? The cousins who would have inherited the money used for the ransom?

This entry in the Monk series concentrates on Monk and his men; Hester appears merely as support and we have a brief scene with Will (formerly Scuff) and Crow. Hooper takes center stage as Monk agonizes not only over the crime—still smarting from Hester's own kidnapping (Corridors of the Night)—but over the perceived betrayal. When a young woman who's a bookkeeper at the bank finds irregularities in the money that Exeter used for the ransom (now missing), the plot thickens further.

This one has an interesting twist that Perry has not used previously. The plot was complex enough to keep the pages turning, but it is only an average Monk novel instead of one of the more compelling ones.

 Marooned, Joseph Kelly
This is a new history of the Jamestown colony making the case that it was the early Jamestown settlers, especially those who went to live with or those who learned to get along with the native occupants of the region, who were the original independent Americans who would later set in motion a bid for freedom, not the Pilgrims, who are usually cited as our forefathers with the publication of the Mayflower Compact, and the later Puritans, who wished Boston to be that "city upon a hill."

Jamestown usually gets "short shrift" in American history class. You learn about John Smith, and you might find him cast as a bit of a rebel, or a bit of an authoritarian due to his proclamation "those who do not work will not eat," painting the other settlers as lazy. You will perhaps learn of Powhatan the Native chief (Powhatan was actually the name of the tribe; Wahunsonacock was the man's actual name) and the now-mythologized Pocahontas (if you've seen the Disney film, this book will tell you what a fairy tale they created of the real story, including portraying Smith as a virile and sexy hero when the real man had been close to being a pirate and was middle aged), and that how the colony was finally fortified and became successful. Then the action moves to Williamsburg. This book is an in-depth history of the Jamestown settlement and the actual events, which are complicated and often bloody. It takes a bit of a strong stomach to read about the privations and the tortures (both by the English and by the Natives) and the amazingly painful injuries some survived that were endured during this period. It also profiles the fate of the passengers of the "Sea Venture," one of the resupply ships for the colony, which ran aground in Bermuda after a storm. Interestingly, one of the passengers on this ship was a Stephen Hopkins who later went back to England, and then sailed on the "Mayflower" and was one of the founders of Plymouth, Massachusetts.

I hadn't read much beyond the Jamestown presented in school history classes and was quite absorbed by the narrative. Again, be warned: the grotesque punishments and tortures are pretty graphic.

 Origins: Human Evolution Revealed, Douglas Palmer
This is a nice coffee-table book about the scientific origins of humankind, from the extinct "proconsul" to homo sapiens, with color reproductions of all stages of evolution, photographs of fossils and artifacts, and diagrams. There are also some great drawings of prehistoric animals. Anthropology was always one of my favorite sciences and there was never enough of it in school.

 Death by Dumpling, Vivien Chien
I grabbed this when I saw it because I'm really tired of whitebread cozy books and had enjoyed Naomi Hirahara's Ellie Rush stories. After a bad romantic breakup and a nightmare job exit, Lana Lee is working at her family's noodle shop while she puts her life back together. Her Taiwanese mother is firmly of the opinion that this is where Lana should be working and that she also needs to get back into the dating game. As the story opens, Lana is asked by Ho-Lee's best cook Peter Huang to deliver lunch to Mr. Feng, who runs the plaza Asia Village where the restaurant is located. A short while later, Lana and her family are told Feng is dead after eating shrimp-filled dumplings from their restaurant; they are in shock because his allergies were well known and they always cooked his food using separate equipment. It looks like the police, including a rather attractive young detective named Adam Trudeau, want to blame the death on Peter. Lana's convinced Peter couldn't hurt a fly, and she and her roommate Megan (a bartender) decide to play Nancy Drew. But there are so many suspects: Feng's wife was heard fighting with him a few days before the death, Lana's friend Kimmy Tran was furious because she understood Feng was going to raise the rent on her parents' video store, Peter had indeed had an argument with Feng some time before, and several of the other occupants of Asia Village are acting out of character.

This wasn't a bad introduction to Lana and her world. She's a typical young American woman, fussing about her hair and her clothes, into pizza and doughnuts, but she also has a good heart and is dedicated to her family and her friends. She and Megan pretty much creep around playing Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler in a good cause; some of it is slightly farfetched, though. Still, the cozy mystery cliches pop up: matchmaking mom, the obligatory cute pet (a pug) with a cute name related to the protagonist or setting ("Kikkoman"), the sleuth sneaking into places she doesn't belong, the overprotective police detective attracted to the sleuth, etc. I am hoping sequels will focus more on Lana's unique Taiwanese culture because I'm really tired of standard romances in mystery books.

 The Brass Ring, Bill Mauldin
I picked this up especially from a book sale because for years I have found quips from this book appearing in Bennett Cerf humor compilations, and also because Mauldin was probably the most famous cartoonist from the World War II era, and my dad, a WWII veteran, spoke well of him. The enlisted men loved him and the officers hated him (he once got chewed out by Patton) because his soldiers looked like they really were: tired, unshaven, unkempt, slightly profane, and always cynical.

Bill Mauldin began life as a "mountain kid" in New Mexico with a Tom Sawyer-ish way of life and a thirst for art, chiefly cartooning; he wangled his way into art schools with money from parents who thought a boy should go to work and not draw for a living. By sheer persistence and budding talent he got his early work published. In the late 1930s he joined the National Guard, and when war broke out, astonished everyone by requesting to go into the infantry. He and his buddies dodged bombs and published company newsletters (with his accompanying cartoons) on transport ships, at the Battle of the Bulge, and in Sicily. His cartoons finally made "Stars and Stripes" and his fame was assured.

This is a great book. Mauldin has an easygoing, casual style, very blunt about his shortcomings and his experiences, yet at the same time expressive about the world around him, especially when the narrative switches to a war setting. If you are interested in reading an "I was there" memoir from a typical "grunt," you will probably enjoy this immensely. I know I did.

  Hark the Herald Angels Slay, Vicki Delaney

 The Twelve Slays of Christmas, Jacqueline Frost

  'Twas the Knife Before Christmas, Jacqueline Frost

 Death Comes to the Fair, Catherine Lloyd
Miss Lucy Harrington and Major Sir Robert Kurland can't wait for their wedding to take place, but first they must endure the meddling of Lucy's aunt, who wishes they be married in London. In the meantime, Lucy talks her intended into judging the produce contest at the local fair. Instead of being diplomatic and picking an assortment of winners from the farmers of the countryside, Robert takes Lucy's "judge the best vegetables" advice to heart, which means all the awards go to Ezekiel Thurrock, the church verger, and the farmers from around the area are muttering angrily about favoritism, especially as the Thurrocks are disliked by many in the neighborhood.

But was someone angry enough to kill him with a stone gargoyle?

Also dealing with Ezekiel's prying and pushy brother, who claims some Kurland land is his own, and the two Chingford sisters (one of whom is Robert's ex-fiancee), the major and the rector's daughter have their hands full solving this perplexing mystery, which ends up involving a charm found on the victim, the Romany, Cromwell vs. King Charles, two "wise women," a clumsy maid, the Witchfinder General of old, and a supposed treasure. What begins as a puzzle turns sinister.

I can't put my finger on it, but I didn't like this as well as the first three. Maybe it's because the relationship has been finalized and it was more fun when they were fighting with each other.

 The Annotated Huckleberry Finn, Samuel Clemens, introduced and edited by Michael Hearn
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn has been one of my favorite books for years. Each time I read it I am astounded at Huck's transformation from village bad boy with the typical prejudices of his time to a staunch young man who will defy all the teaching from all the adults he has trusted, defy not only the laws of his own state, but laws he believes are set by God, to keep his companion Jim from being taken back into slavery. This despite not only the fear of being "lowered" by his friendship with Jim, his fear of being imprisoned, and his terror of burning in Hell. Finn has always been controversial from when it was published; even though it was published post Civil War, some libraries thought it taught "bad morals" to children and many of the population still did not believe in the freedoms it sought to champion.

If nothing else, this is an eye-opener of a novel about antebellum Missouri society, about the charlatans who wandered the countryside, about supposedly "good Christians" who are misguided and others who are plain evil, about country superstitions and everyday life. Sometimes it's sad, as when Jim talks about his little daughter, or when the end of Huck's stay with the Grangerfords is marked by tragedy. And sometimes it's just plain funny, like when Huck trolls for information by pretending to be a girl, or Tom Sawyer forms a "band of robbers." But the most emotional moments still follow Huck's growing friendship and dependence on a man who is "only a slave," and his realization that Jim, too, is a human being, just like him.

This annotated edition not only provides background for the language/slang, history, locations, backgrounds, and other unfamiliar references that may be in the text, but talks about the changes Clemens made in the manuscript, which, in the appendix, includes two larger portions that were excised from the novel, a shorter sequence when Jim talks about his past as slave for a young man who went to medical school, and a longer sequence where Huck sneaks aboard a flatboat and watches the crew at leisure, which includes a tall tale about a "haunted bar'l" (the latter is now chapter three of Life on the Mississippi). Liberally peppered with all the original illustrations by E.W. Kemble (including the "obscene" one that had to be pulled before the book was released) and other maps, and prefaced by a 150-page introduction to how the novel was conceived, abandoned, taken up once again, finally completed, printed, and became a subject of controversy, this is the best way to read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

 Mine For Keeps, Jean Little
This is another one of those children's classics that I missed because I was reading books with animal protagonists. Sarah Jane Copeland is finally coming home. She has cerebral palsy, and has been away at a special school for many years, only coming home on holidays. But now that her family has moved to a new city with a therapy center nearby, "Sally" is home for good, and is attending a standard elementary school. At first she is fearful of having new friends, then, having made a friend, is chagrined when she makes a terrible mistake first day of school and two potential new friends ignore her. To cheer her up, her brother suggests she get a dog. And with the help of a shy West Highland West terrier, Sally not only succeeds in gaining independence, but in helping another child in need of a good dose of hope.

For 1962 this is a remarkable book. Sally is given assistance (easy to wear clothes, a short haircut, rugs that won't slip under her crutches, etc.) to make things easier, but her parents and her siblings expect her to do for herself. Her teacher gives her extra time to complete tasks, but expects the best from her. And she's left on her own to make friends, with the teacher not making any speeches about accepting her.

The best part of this book is that Sally is a real kid; she's neither a saint nor a troubled soul, she has bad days and good, sometimes related to her CP and sometimes just because she's a kid and has kid problems. While CP is part of her life and causes her problems, it does not define her. She's allowed to make mistakes and to work out what to do to make up for them, sometimes with gentle guidance and sometimes on her own. Her parents are refreshingly supportive without being smothery, and the whole book is suffused with optimism without being a trite stereotype. Still very readable after 56 years!

 How New England Happened: The Modern Traveler's Guide to New England's Historical Past, Christina Tree
I read about the author of this book and the book itself in a recent issue of "Yankee" and was lucky enough to find an inexpensive copy on E-Bay.

This is a different type of tour book. Most other travel books work by telling you about the attractions by region or by city. Lee tells the story of the New England region chronologically from the supposedly primitive setting of "Mystery Hill" in Salem, New Hampshire, to the Victorian hotels and mansions of the late Victorian era. Chapters cover pre-colonial, colonial, Revolutionary, early republic, Civil War era, and finally stopping at the late 1800s. Tree claims that this is when all the New England "tropes" were completed, but I would have liked to have seen them go into the 1920s and 1930s with the arrival of immigrants replacing the old Yankee types. These immigrants also changed the face of New England and made it what it is today. Otherwise the history portion was excellent even if the book (published in the 1970s) is no longer current on where to contact the various sites chronicled in the book. Great for U.S. history buff, especially those who love New England.

Books Completed Since April 1

 Sergeant Stubby, Anna Bausum
This is the second time in four years I've discovered a new book based upon information I read first in a children's book published in the late 1950s, so it amused me a bit to see this book publicized as the "first time" Stubby's story is being told. Sergeant Stubby, a stray Boston terrier (or possibly Boston mix) who wandered out onto an Army training field in 1917, became the mascot of the 102nd Infantry and accompanied "the doughboys" to Europe. While in service, he was gassed and also physically injured in an attack. Stubby's story (and also the story of Snowman the jumping horse told in The Eighty Dollar Champion) was told in Patrick Lawson's More Than Courage, published by Whitman Books.

Much of Bausum's story of Stubby and his "handler," Robert Conroy, and their experiences in World War I is that of conjecture, as Conroy kept no diary. However, after the war, when Stubby was welcomed home to as much acclaim as the men he served with, Conroy did keep a scrapbook, and much of that information is happily firsthand. Bausum does a super job of describing Stubby's and Conroy's world in the 'teens: the pre-war U.S., the world of the training camps and the trenches, the endless mud and disease and the very real terror of being killed or maimed, the horror of gas. There is also discussion of just what breed of dog Stubby was, as he has been described at various times as a pit bull, a bull terrier, or some other bully breed.

Since this year marks the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of the first World War, Sergeant Stubby is a lively and painless way to review the American experience during the event by following an affable dog and his devoted owner, and the book is scattered with vintage war illustrations, and photographs and ephemera from Stubby's scrapbook, plus a close-up of his famous jacket with all its ribbons and medals.

Note to Ann Bausum: if you don't want to drive every Bostonian (and possibly every New Englander) who reads this book mad, please correct the typos in the "Stateside" chapter which refer to the Boston "Commons." It is the "Common," singular, and has never been "Commons." Ever.

 Stuff Matters, Mark Miodownik
I loved this book.

I'd never heard about "material science" when I went to school, but biology left me cold, chemistry was absorbing in the laboratory, but the mathematical portion of the course was over my head. Needless to say, after that, physics was out. :-) But earth science I loved, and I would have loved a course on material science, especially if Mark Miodownik was the teacher. I found myself smiling as I read the science behind the everyday things in our lives: concrete, steel, paper, glass—even chocolate—and the most enjoyable part was that his prose was illuminating and the scientific concepts were clearly explained. Instead of being puzzled by the concepts, I found them completely understandable. Perhaps, for people who are more science-oriented it might have been simplistic, but I found it fascinating, especially the chapter about the silica aerogel.

Miodownik has an easygoing writing style that I really enjoyed, reminding me of Bill Bryson and James Burke. My only problem with this book is that I wish it could have been twice as long! I'll be looking forward to his next book, especially if concerning the same subject.

 My Gentle Barn, Ellie Laks
Ellie Laks spent a difficult childhood in a home and with a family she found distant and uncaring, and she almost always felt like an outsider at school. Her only solace was with her dog and other animals that she befriended. She felt animals spoke directly into her heart. Her early adult years were troubled as she met a man who got her into drugs. Finally she broke away from drugs, married, and had a child. But animals in distress still called to her, and for some time she ran a dog rescue. One day she adopted a sick goat from a badly-run, abusive petting zoo. Over the years she collected more creatures from the same petting zoo and realized what she really wanted to do was run a shelter for abused animals. This is her story of how her dream came true and she founded The Gentle Barn, a refuge that also helps neglected children.

This is an inspiring story, although it's sad and ironic that Ellie neglected her first husband, who didn't plan on having a backyard full of rescued creatures occupying all of her time, the same way that she talks about parents neglecting her. I'm rather surprised he didn't abandon the marriage earlier. The fact that animals "talk" to her without speech and tell her their names sounds a bit farfetched as well, the bottom line is that The Gentle Barn does special rescue work, and the children who visit the farm, victims of abuse, are helped emotionally by hearing the stories of and tending these animals. It's a story of long days, hard work, heartbreak, and a person who rises above emotional troubles to help others. Animal lovers especially will enjoy.

 I Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly: The Diary of Patsy, A Freed Girl, Joyce Hansen
Patsy has lived on the Mars Bluff plantation belonging to the Davis family all her life. Since she has always been lame and when she speaks, she stammers, everyone—or at least those who are not close to her—thinks she is stupid. She must complete the most boring chores day after day, appropriate for someone considered slow-witted. But Patsy's stammer hides a quck mind: she has taught herself to read and write by observing the white children's lessons. Now that the Civil War is over, what will happen to the plantation slaves? Their former masters are supposed to give them land and build them a school, but they're pretending as if nothing has happened. Some of the former slaves even want life to remain the same.

There are two stories here that meld into one: the story of the dilemma of the slaves themselves about their futures and the story of Patsy, who comes into herself as an individual and as a person who has formerly been beaten down by criticism who suddenly finds she has talents to share. From the "dummy" of the plantation, Patsy becomes a teacher her friends can depend on. A nice, solid story of real-life plantation life (not the romanticized pap of the last century). According to the sticker, this book won a Coretta Scott King Award.

 Edison and the Rise of Innovation, Leonard DeGraff
This is a marvelous coffee-table type volume chronicling Thomas Edison and his inventions. While Edison's biography is briefly touched upon, and his first invention (a stock ticker) and lesser inventions are commented upon, the book mainly chronicles Edison's most famous innovations, the ones that changed peoples' lives, including the phonograph, the long-lasting electric light bulb (Edison did not invent the first electric light bulb; arc lights were in use for many decades earlier, but they threw a harsh light and were expensive—what Edison invented was an inexpensive light bulb that most people could afford to use in their homes), motion pictures, portland cement, storage batteries, and rubber, plus a look at his laboratories, which were the innovation centers of the time.

The most wonderful thing about this book are the beautiful illustrations throughout: modern and vintage photographs of the inventions, workshops, and people involved, and illustrations of Edison's notebooks, vintage advertisements, newspaper stories, patent illustrations, engravings, and store displays of Edison products. It's a virtual museum of historical objects and persons to make any history buff drool. If you're interested in the age of invention, this is a great bet; those looking for a detailed bio of Edison will need to look elsewhere.

 Birdmen, Lawrence Goldstone
At the turn of the century, not only the Wright brothers dreamt of the sky. From Otto Lillenthal and his wings to Octave Chanute, Augustus Herring, Samuel Langley, Louis Bleriot, and the man the Wrights considered their greatest rival, Glenn Curtiss, men on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean wrestled with the problem of heavier-than-air travel. Birdmen chronicles the steps—and often mis-steps—in the efforts to fly.

I have to be honest; it's my husband who's the aviation buff, but I've been to so many aviation museums with him I've taken a liking to the early aspects of aviation, including ballooning and the career of the Wright brothers. I thought this book would be more enjoyable than it was; it's a very knowledgable, but I also found it very dry, especially the parts devoted to the Wright brothers' efforts to slap lawsuits on anyone who seemed to be copying their patented wing-warping innovation. The book is at its best when it chronicles the groundbreaking flights and the dismal failures, the air races, and the structural innovations. The legal aspects are otherwise rather tedious.

 A Brief Guide to Star Trek, Brian J. Robb
As someone who bought Stephen Whitfield's The Making of Star Trek when it was published back in the late 1960s, the question might be "What could yet another book say about this series that you didn't know?" Rather a lot, actually, as it's not just about the original series, but all the spin offs, the films, and the reboot. Since we got bored with Voyager in second season, Enterprise after first season, and missed great chunks of the last two seasons of DS9 because of its broadcast time (and because, up against Babylon 5, there really wasn't much choice which one we would watch regularly), we also missed a lot of what went on with the various series, and it was nice to read a wrap-up, and such things like the Voyager cast's criticism of the show's shortcomings, examinations of what worked and what didn't in Enterprise, and other later tidbits were interesting. There's a surprising lot of Trek information packed into this small book.

 Tales of the New England Coast, anthology, Castle Books
It literally took me years to buy this book. I first saw it way back in the late 1980s in Oxford Too, the late Oxford Books' remaindered/used outlet, but always gave it a miss. But recently a one-dollar price tag changed my mind.

These are stories about New England taken from old magazines like "Scribners" and "New England Magazine," from the time period 1884 to 1910, ranging in subjects from fisher folk to historical sites like Salem, Massachusetts, and the Naval Torpedo Station in Newport, Rhode Island, to historical portraits like the story of the Boston Post Road and the stagecoaches that traveled it. In typical adult Victorian magazine style, the narratives are voluble and occasionally very dense. I was struck by the social snobbery of several of the articles, especially "Newport," which seemed to be primarily about the titled people who lived glittering lives in their summer homes, as if the ordinary citizen of the city wasn't good enough to write about.

The articles, however, make you think about how the country has changed in over one hundred years. It's not just the lack of modern technology, but the close-knit, often remote communities that existed back then. "Fisher folk" are discussed as if they are some alien breed of humans, and one article concentrates on the "characters" that exist on the Maine coast. Our society has become so homogenized we don't really have groups like this any longer, unless they are some religious sect.

In addition, there are dozens of black and white photographs of "how it used to be" in tourist areas like Martha's Vineyard, Salem, Block Island, Gloucester, Cape Cod, and Bar Harbor, showing lovely country views of places now covered with blacktop, billboards, and businesses. It will make you long to take a time machine back to the quiet beauty of these places.

 Elementary, edited by Mercedes Lackey
This is a second collection of stories based on Lackey's Elemental Masters novels, in which Air, Earth, Water, and Fire mages exist in an alternate Britain between 1890 and 1918. The short stories, however, have a broader range and take place from the Aztec era to Edwardian Britain, with the final tale, Lackey's own, in an indeterminate era based on the Red Riding Hood legend (a preview of her next Elemental Masters novel).

In general I liked this total collection better than the last, but the complaints I had in the first book still stand: several stories are just incidents rather than complete stories, such as "Feathers and Foundations," which is an anecdote about the Warders and the ravens at the Tower of London. Others, like "The Flying Contraption," involving a little girl and the Wright brothers, were just strange. I enjoyed "Fire Storm," although very little elemental magic moved the story. Then there was "London Falling," an interesting, but grisly, story that is a fictional follow-on to the true crime book Devil in the White City. "Air of Deception" is a new story about Aurelia Degard, apprentice parfumeuse, and one of the better entries.

Like the previous book, the cover was done on the cheap, using snippets from other Elemental Masters novels. Sad that the publisher itself doesn't even value these books.

 Dying in the Wool, Frances Brody
Kate Shackleton's husband disappeared in the carnage of the first World War and, in the four years since he was declared lost in action, Kate has developed a small talent for searching for missing persons. When a friend she nursed with in the Voluntary Aid Detachment asks her to take on a search for her father, the owner of a profitable woolen mill who disappeared in 1916 after having been rescued from a suicide attempt, she attempts to make a go of it professionally. Needing an extra hand, Kate employs John Sykes, an out-of-work police officer, and stays with her friend Tabitha in the weeks before her wedding to delve quietly into the mystery from the family point of view. And what she finds are plenty of secrets.

This is an English country mystery in the classic style, with an appealing, if not exactly sparkling protagonist, and a slow-moving, yet twisting narrative with a surprise or two around every bend. We get an interesting portrait of Britain in the 1920s, in which a woman driving her own car is a novelty, yet the period details don't overpower the story, and the woolen mill details are fascinating. Best yet, Kate and John's relationship is refreshingly unmarred by sexual tension. If you're looking for a fast-moving modern-style detective novel, this isn't it; if you enjoy cozies alà Christie, it may be a perfect fit.

 Call The Midwife: Farewell to the East End, Jennifer Worth
This is the third and final book in Worth's trilogy based upon her career as a midwife in London's dockland slums. This time Jenny, Cynthia, Trixie, and Chummy as well as the Sisters of Nonnatus House must deal with an unmarried girl whose delivery will be as much a surprise as it is for the midwife, the amazing story of a pregnant woman where no woman should ever be, and the identical twins Mavis and Meg who prove formidable when the former is expecting. Sister Monica Joan continues to prove mercurial, and we finally see how Chummy meets and courts her policeman. Worth also provides grim stories about tuberculosis that runs in families and back-alley abortionists; in a lighter note, a chimney cleaning and a birth combined prove a sooty operation.

While the stories about the midwives and the nuns are as lively as ever, I think Worth was running out of novel experiences for this final book, and it is padded out with extended stories about each of the mothers and children, plus some horrific historical facts, including the story of the abuses of the Contagious Disease (Women) Act. There is a welcome epilog to let us know what happened to each of the characters after the Docklands were cleared and Nonnatus House closed for good.

 The Prime Minister's Secret Agent, Susan Elia MacNeal
I'm tempted to call this outing "How Maggie got her groove back."

Margaret Hope, former American mathematician, now a British spy, is still recovering from her arduous mission in Berlin in which she discovered she had a German half-sister, confronted her mother (a Nazi spy), killed a man, and rescued her lover—who promptly dumped her when he found she'd turned to another man after he was declared dead. Maggie's now training spies in Scotland, where she struggles with depression, while her mother Clara, imprisoned in the Tower of London, slowly reveals a grisly secret. And then Maggie's close friend Sarah becomes critically ill after being accused of murder.

Frankly, most of this book isn't about Maggie at all, but about the machinations behind the attack on Pearl Harbor, from Dusan Popov's warning to J. Edgar Hoover about certain suspicious Japanese military movements to the fateful hours just before and after (you may be interested, or perhaps even a bit outraged, at who MacNeal speculates knew about the attack beforehand). In the meantime Maggie searches for the source of Sarah's illness (a mystery that takes a page out of an episode of Foyle's War; and I was amused that Porton Down was mentioned just after I had seen the episode of The Bletchley Circle that referenced this war location). Make no mistake, the multiple plotlines keep the pages turning, but there's a little less of Maggie Hope in this Maggie Hope mystery. Incidentally, MacNeal's anachronisms still jar: I don't think people referred to "the big picture" back then.

 A Coal Miner's Bride: The Diary of Anetka Kaminska, Susan Campbell Bartoletti
Thirteen-year-old Anetka lives in a Poland that has been conquered by the Russians, so she is understandably annoyed when a young Russian soldier begins flirting with her. But her lot seems thrown in with him when he, she, and her little brother head for America with steamship tickets provided by a man who works in a Pennsylvania coal mine with her emigrant father—the price of the tickets? Anetka must marry the man—and be mother to his three small daughters.

This is a vivid portrayal of the hardships of immigrants in the coal mining industry in the late 19th century. Anetka goes from a poor but bucolic rural environment to a filthy, rude, poverty-stricken life, living with a man she does not love, but whose children she does come to care about. The immigrants are hated by the American citizens who seem to have forgotten they were immigrants once themselves, who fear the "hunkies" will steal jobs from them, and they are cheated at every turn by the mine owners and foremen. The early activities of the Mine Workers' union play a role in the story as well, underlined by the very real specter of Anetka's loneliness.

The setting of this book was also appealing in that this was the situation my grandparents entered upon coming to the United States: from rural Italy to a coal-mining village in eastern Ohio. The romance is also very sweet.

Got Book?

James left early for his club meeting so he could give a disabled member a ride. I went back to the book sale; I was right about it being slim pickings: previously they had put out more books on Saturday and again on Sunday. I wonder if people are now taking their books to 2nd and Charles to trade for credit rather than donating them. Anyway:

To Conquer the Air: The Wright Brothers and the Great Race for Flight, James Tobin (mostly for James)
Cape Cod and the Offshore Islands, Walter Teller
Christmas in Williamsburg, Joanne B. Young  and Taylor Biggs Lewis Jr
Wandering Through Winter, Edwin Way Teale (this is part of a series of four seasonal travelogues through the United States, done before the interstates were built; looks fascinating)

and a brand new book that I bought as a gift.