Books Completed Since October 1

  Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come, Jessica Pan

I had to pick this up: Jess and I sounded a lot alike. We crossed streets to avoid talking to people. Ducked out of noisy parties early. Thought going to any big gathering where there was drinking and noise as energy draining. Found socializing exhausting.

 

I was lucky; I found science fiction conventions. I normally don't chat to strangers, but will there, because I know there is acceptance there. But Jess' close friends had all left for new lives or other careers. Yes, she had her partner Sam, but she still had no close other friends. So she tried living the life of an extrovert to help her find some new ones.

 

Jessica Pan's writing is humorous and I chuckled several times in her adventures. I thought I was pretty shy, but her introversion was almost debilitating. I applaud several of the thing she did to overcome this, including doing a presentation for The Moth, doing stand-up comedy, joining an improv group, and going on a vacation not knowing the destination. But some of the other therapies she was given just appalled me, the worst being to talk to strangers and, instead of making small talk, ask them "Deep Questions" like "Are you lonely?" or "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" I find this rude and invasive. Do the psychologists of the world not respect anyone's privacy any longer? Not to mention that a couple of things that people told her during this therapy would have been prime targets for blackmail! I do understand that this was to elevate conversation between mere chitchat about sports or the weather, but I thought it was seriously invasive and creepy. I sure wouldn't have responded to Jessica! Neither would I have hung around Budapest not consulting a guidebook (apparently she wasn't allowed to????) and asking "Deep Questions"—get the guidebook, go someplace you're interested in, then start chatting to people there!

 

An okay examination of changing personal behaviors if you can get around the "Deep Talk" invasion of privacy business (plus I found the magic mushroom chapter a little creepy, too).

 

  Murder on Union Square, Victoria Thompson

One final obstacle remains in the process for Sarah Brandt Malloy and Frank Malloy to adopt Catherine, the little girl Sarah rescued from abuse: her mother was married at the time she died, so her husband, even though he is not Catherine's biological father, is still her legal guardian. But, their attorney tells them, if the man, actor Parnell Vaughn, signs over Catherine to them, they may adopt her. But when the Malloys visit Vaughn, his grasping fiancee says he'll only sign if he's paid a thousand dollars. This too is illegal, but Frank and Sarah love Catherine too much to say no. But the next day when Frank takes the papers to Vaughn, he finds him dead, and his fiancee screams that Frank killed him. Frank's arrested. Due to the inheritance he received, he can just pay the courts off to "forget" the case, but Frank and Sarah, and their co-workers Gino and Maeve, would prefer that he clear his name, especially for the sake of Catherine and Frank's son Brian. So the four of them work the Palladium Theater, finding out much more about actors—and their foibles, superstitions, personal habits, and performances at the drop of a hat—than they ever wanted to. Frank's and Sarah's mothers also lend a hand in this mystery that raises quite a few eyebrows in the plot along the way.

There are so many suspects in this one and so many motivations that much of the story is taken up with the four leads' interviews with the suspects, and for a while things seem to go around in circles. This is very realistic from an investigative point of view—both police and private detectives must hash and rehash clues to arrive at the truth—but sometimes the repetition gets a little dull. So you'll have to stick with the characters a bit while they reach the inevitable.

Plus we get a reappearance of Serafina, the fortuneteller who appeared in a previous book; one of the actresses, Verena, helps with the case with some coaxing from Gino (to Maeve's annoyance), Maeve gets the workmen at the new clinic whipped into shape, and she also comes up with a great cover name while pretending to be a reporter: Mazie Dobbins. I laughed aloud when I read that.

Enjoyable, but you have to get through the long investigation.

 

  A History of Children's Books in 100 Books, Roderick Cave and Sara Ayad

I have the book A History of Books in 100 Books and thought this would make a good companion volume to it. It is, although it was published in England and is very British-centric. It opens, as you might expect, with a chapter about the first books designated for children, which weren't published until the late 17th century, and then wanders afield through folklore from Aesop to Africa, to nonsense tales, animal stories, instructive and religious stories, babies' books, volumes that tell of other cultures, women writers, fairy tales and fantasy places, tales of exploration and colonialism, history books, and more. Notable American books are mentioned, as are African and Indian and Chinese contributions, but the focus is chiefly British.

 

Still miffed because they mentioned "The Youth's Companion" and several other periodicals, and completely forgot "St. Nicholas," which was really odd since several of my compilations of that noted magazine are from British editions printed by Beatrix Potter's publisher, Frederick Warne & Company!

 

  The Library Book, Susan Orlean

Susan Orlean interweaves her love for books with the story of the 1926 Goodhue Central Library of the Los Angeles library system and the terrible fire the historic building suffered in 1986 when a suspected arsonist lit a fire in the stacks and the tinder-dry books in the badly-ventilated area burned as if they had been soaked in gasoline, with temperatures that reached over 2000 degrees Fahrenheit. As firemen desperately fought the fire in one part of the building, courageous volunteers raced inside the unaffected portions to rescue books until it became unsafe. Days later, more volunteers rescued waterlogged volumes, hoping to save some of them. The arsonist was never caught, but long suspected was Harry Peak, a misfit who said he was nowhere near the library, then changed his mind and said he was there, then said he was not again...each time he was questioned changing his story. It's also the story of the Los Angeles library system itself, including its pioneering women head librarians who were eventually booted out to make way for an eccentric who had no training in library science but who was a man, an odd duck who actually did do positive things for the library. Orlean even examines the role of libraries today, especially urban libraries who are attempting to make themselves relevant, especially in low-income neighborhoods, and how they are attempting to diversify the audience they serve.

 

If you're a book lover, this volume is like a treat from a candy store. The accounts of the fire will make you weep in realizing how many historic volumes were lost. While Harry Peak's involvement (or non-involvement) was never proven, you'll become equally annoyed at his aggrandizement of himself and his shifting stories and excuses. Heck, Orlean's story about her trips to the library with her mother and about the books she loved are almost worth the price of the book alone.

 

  The Vanderbeekers Lost and Found, Karina Yan Glaser

What a change from two years earlier, when the Vanderbeeker family's landlord was a cranky recluse living a solitary life in his top-floor apartment. Now the five Vanderbeeker children: teen twins Isa and Jessie, Oliver (the only boy), knitting-mad Hyacinth, and little Laney are helping Mr. Beiderman train for the New York City marathon. But their excitement is tempered by a bombshell: the identity of the homeless person living in the shed in the neighborhood's communal garden. It's someone they both know and love, and they'd do anything to keep this person from leaving their neighborhood and possibly leaving them forever. In the meantime, Hyacinth is unsure of how to make new friends at school, and Isa worries that a boy she likes may not like her any longer.

 

Amid the joy that is always around when the Vanderbeekers assemble, the kids have to face some hard truths about all families not being like theirs. And, even more daunting, is that something I feared in The Vanderbeekers to the Rescue has come to pass. If you are reading this to a child, please note there is a death in this book and be prepared. It's beautifully related but terribly sad and made me cry.  The children are given an opportunity to prepare, participate, and grieve in their own way, which is as it should be instead of being protected from life's inevitable truths.

 

  Re-Read: Harvest at Stillmeadow, Gladys Taber

It's that time of year when I go looking among my to-be-read pile for "something that is like Gladys Taber." Alas, I've spent something like 30 years looking for someone "like" her; best to just go back to the beginning and re-read the Stillmeadow books. Taber, originally from Wisconsin, spending her married life living in New York City, bought a vintage Connecticut farmhouse (as so many New Yorkers did from the 1930s-1950s—remember the I Love Lucy episodes set in Connecticut?) near Southbury, raised cocker spaniels, planted a garden, cooked luscious meals and relaxed (sometimes) on weekends and in summer before coming to live there full time, and Taber, in "Ladies' Home Journal" and "Family Circle," wrote about her experiences at "Stillmeadow." These columns were later published in over a dozen compilation volumes, of which Harvest at Stillmeadow was the first.

These columns, from 1935 to 1940, and covering two years at Stillmeadow, are simple journal entries of daily life: the vagaries of the spaniels (Star and Sister, their two main dogs, hated each other), the travails of gardening and then the succulence of the food that came out of it, closing the house for the winter and reopening it in the spring, the perils of having summer visitors (the behaviors of which made me rather indignant; it's impolite to invite yourself over, keep your hostess hopping with requests for items and entertainment, and then leave her to clean up your mess!), the adventures of the children, and the passing of the seasons. Reviews of her books often show up on blogs and sites about mindfulness; certainly there's a slow, easy pleasure about a Stillmeadow book, one that makes you think longingly of homes in the country, shady gardens, homecooked dinners, watching sunny meadows and frosty evenings from a garden chair or from before an open fire. It's a mellowing experience.

This, the first of the books, is a little less polished than the later ones, where gradually the childhood tales give way to Gladys musing about growing older, the state of the world, the disappearance of the countryside around her—but always about her pets and her cooking. In fact, I came to her through her dogs: a volume called Especially Dogs, Especially at Stillmeadow in my junior high school library. Once tempted by Stillmeadow, it's hard to turn away ever again.

 

  On Spice: Advice, Wisdom, and History With a Grain of Saltiness, Caitlin Penzey-Moog

I gave this to James on his birthday because one of our favorite things to do is go over to the Penzey spices store on Roswell Road and smell the spices. He handed it off to me, a small book, and said "It's an easy read." It is, but also a fun one. Penzey-Moog grew up helping in her grandparents' spice store and learned more about food seasonings than most will ever know. She gives a history of each spice (or herb; she decided to go with the broader sense of the definition of "spice" as an additive to food dishes, whether they were from seeds, roots, plants, flowers, etc.) with interesting commentary on history (such as the French and the Dutch basically lost their monopoly on their spice islands because they treated the indigenous workers so badly that these slaves would give away the precious seeds/plants), and chat about plants which were used as medicines. You'll learn what we use as cinnamon really isn't (unless it's from Vietnam, it's probably cassia); that turmeric (the "new" wonder spice) is actually good for you, but not as good as its press insists; why a few threads of saffron are so expensive; and much more. She also talks about what spice mixes contain (Cajun seasoning, five spice powder, jerk, vadouvan, and more), the difference between "peppers" and "peppercorns" (not to mention paprika), and many other items of food trivia.

 

Not a fan of cooking, but an interesting read due to the history.

 

  The Happy Hollisters and the Mystery of the Little Mermaid, Jerry West

This is number eighteen in the book series about the Hollister family (dad owns the Trading Post, a sports/hobby/hardware store, mom is a housewife but always ready to join or head family adventures, and there's the kids: Pete, age 12; Pam, 10 years old; Ricky, age 7; and Holly, 6—there's also a younger sister, Sue, age four), not to mention the collie, the cat and five kittens, and the pet donkey. They travel to interesting places and usually solve some sort of mystery doing so.

 

In this entry, they're winging it to Denmark to visit Copenhagen, when a fellow passenger, Miss Petersen, an assistant to the Queen who is returning a priceless Little Mermaid statue to the royal family from a museum loan, allows the kids to see the artifact. Unfortunately, she also allows another passenger, a bearded man Sue calls "Mr. Bushyface," to check out the statue. When they reach customs, the statue is gone and the kids suspect the bearded man. They tell Miss Petersen they will search for the statue while touring Denmark.

 

No sooner do they leave the airport than Sue is rescued by Karen Clausen, a schoolteacher, who introduces the family to her Farfar and Farmor (grandfather and -mother). Through the Clausens, the Hollisters learn of another mystery: someone is breaking into old churches which have ships' models hanging in them (an old Danish tradition), and destroying the models. Are the crimes related? If you said no, you haven't read enough Hollister adventures.

This is a picturesque volume with the family visiting many Danish landmarks, including, of course, Tivoli, the amusement park that inspired Walt Disney to build Disneyland. That's one of its problems, too; it's almost too much of a travelogue, the author trying to wedge in all the cool attractions and a very active mystery as well, where the Hollisters and their Danish friends are always bolting off on a new chase after a fresh clue. It makes its breathless way from one to the next with almost no stopping.

Problems: What kind of steward was Miss Petersen for allowing "Mr. Bushyface" to take the mermaid statue in its case to his seat when she was supposed to be protecting it? In real life she would be so fired. Also, what's with Ricky in this book? He's constantly disobeying his parents and getting into dangerous situations; once he almost takes Pete with him. The kids are usually so much smarter than this.

Big plus, though: with the Hollisters away from Shoreham, we don't have to put up with Joey Brill for a whole book!

 

  North to the Night, Alvah Simon

Alvah Simon had always had an affinity for the north, and as an adult this crystallized into wanting to winter above the Arctic circle in a sailboat and learn about the native Inuit who make the area their home. He has met a woman who shares his adventurous spirit, if not quite as much of his passion, and, with the purchasing and refitting of the steel-hulled sailboat The Roger Henry, Alvah and Diana will make his dream come true in Tay Bay in Canada.

 

And then Diana's father dies.

 

This is mostly the story of Simon's odyssey, alone except for a frightfully mercurial kitten named Halifax, frozen in the ice on Tay Bay throughout the long Arctic night, suffering early from miscalculations he made about the amount of oil he needed, at least once going blind for several days from an unknown ailment and blessing his habit of always keeping gear in the same place, almost freezing to death in his sleeping bag after his cabin becomes moisture-ridden due to a lantern kept on too long, and other everyday survival efforts in the -50℉ cold. There were times when I really thought he was crazy for doing this, and I still wonder why he and Diana had to stay on the boat; couldn't they have camped on the shore?

 

On the other hand there are beautiful moments when he ventures out between snowstorms and discovers the grandeur of the Arctic, and profound encounter with the Inuit, who never hurry, accept what they need to do to survive, temper their anger, and live fulfilling lives. He observes local wildlife and keeps a respectful distance from polar bears, who menace him on more than one occasion, and, in one case, is betrayed by a duplicitous "naturalist" who talks him into letting him take photos of a rare bird's nest.

Despite occasionally thinking Simon needed to chill out somewhere, I was enthralled by this book.

 

  The Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt, Caroline Preston

This is a darling graphic novel told in "typed" commentary along with vintage 1920s mementos: magazine clippings, ticket stubs, old photos, menus, telegrams, note paper, schedules, postcards, paper dolls, school documents, maps, advertisements, etc. to tell the story of Frances "Frankie" Pratt, from Cornish, New Hampshire, who gives up on her dream to go to Vassar and goes to work as companion to an elderly woman, whose shell-shocked son romances Frankie without telling her he's married. Once again given the opportunity to attend college after her disapproving mother intervenes, Frankie is off to Vassar where she makes friends, and then heads up for more adventures in New York City and in Paris.

 

The inventiveness of Preston's storytelling makes up for the fact this is just a historical romance novel, with Frankie becoming involved with three different men, all who contribute something to her understanding of adulthood without ever holding her back from becoming her own person, as well as with a useful but ultimately "user" of a college roommate and a very odd instant onboard friendship with a young woman who'd planned to go to France to live and ends up marrying a Russian on board.

 

Preston also has another of these scrapbook tales out, A War-Bride's Scrapbook, that looks just as endearing. 

 

  The Last Seance and Other Stories, Agatha Christie

I picked this up as Hallowe'en reading and was not disappointed, although some of the stories are better than others. This basically collects any Christie story that involved some type of supernatural element, even if the element is later proven to be a trick, so there are even some Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple tales here. The titular tale sets the scene with a creepy narrative about a medium who's about to abandon her calling but reluctantly agrees to do just one more seance. Other stories involve a solitary family being visited by a stranded motorist, a Poirot mystery about an Egyptian dig that results in a curse, a man whose cousin has an aversion to gypsies due to a perpetual nightmare, the story of an old house and a little boy and a very persistent ghost, an elderly woman who starts hearing her deceased husband whispering to her from the radio, the unsettling tale of a man who has seemingly lost his mind and acts like a cat, a deadly cult who inherits its members' money, and more.

 

The whole volume was enjoyable, but I especially enjoyed "The Dressmaker's Doll," about two sisters who are nonplussed by the arrival of a mysterious doll in their midst. A real page-turner of suspense!

 

  The Life and Times of Edward VII, Keith Middlemas

I've been interested in the life of Queen Victoria's heir "Bertie" (Edward VII) ever since I saw the British drama Edward the King. Victoria expected him to emulate his clever (and, to her, perfect) father, the beloved Prince Albert, and as a middling student (he might even have had a learning disability) especially compared to his quick older sister, and not quick to catch on, he was a lifelong disappointment to her and this treatment told on him all his life. He begged to have more responsibility, but thinking him indolent, much of it was handed over to his younger brother, leaving the bored prince to get involved with gaming, horse racing, society gatherings, and "fast" women, which only increased his mother's scorn.

Make no mistake, as Prince of Wales "Bertie" was no saint. He had affairs, gambled (but never got into debt) with friends, took advantage of his position in life, and basically lived the lifestyle of the privileged few. But he did much good for the country in other ways, including diplomatically, and served ten useful years as king, not to mention was an adored grandfather and an affectionate parent. Had his mother actually given him the responsibilities he wanted, his life and reputation might have turned out differently.

This book is a lavishly illustrated story of his happy childhood, unhappy boyhood, discontented adulthood, and term as monarch, with photographs, drawings, printings, cartoons, and other illustrations providing visual reference of both his private and public life. Quite enjoyed it.

 

  Really Truly, Heather Vogel Frederick

This is the third book in the Pumpkin Falls Mystery series, featuring Truly Lovejoy and her family. Dad is a retired Army officer who lost his arm to an IED; they now live in Pumpkin Falls, New Hampshire, running the family bookstore. Truly, already six feet tall in eighth grade and a prodigious swimmer, has two older brothers and two younger sisters, and loves birdwatching. Living in New Hampshire wasn't in the plans for the family until her dad lost his arm, and Truly still smarts from being away from her favorite cousin/best friend Mackenzie—until, during her mom's family reunion being held in Pumpkin Falls, Mackenzie insists Truly come with her to "Mermaid Camp," interrupting Truly's carefully planned summer.

 

I have to admit, although the foray to Mermaid Camp pushes the remainder of the plot of the story, I spent about half the book stewing at the fact that "best friend" Mackenzie basically bulldozes Truly into going to what I consider a really stupid camp. Sure they found out about a hidden treasure and meet a couple of elderly ladies who swam with Esther Williams in her films...but, really, "mermaid camp." Ugh. And having to put up with snooty Hayden Drake on top of it. All you need is a Nellie Oleson at your camp.

 

Once Truly's back home and gets roped, reluctantly at first, into a community project, the story perks up. Unfortunately to succeed Truly must run afoul (several times) of her strict dad; one understands where he's coming from, but you can't help feeling sorry for her efforts continually getting her in hot water. So, while I really enjoyed the book...ick, mermaid camp! Science camp, birdwatching camp, swimming camp, book camp...but mermaid camp. No. Not ever.

Books Completed Since February 1

 Young Americans Colonial Williamsburg: Nancy's Story, 1765, Joan Lowery Nixon
This is the third in Lowery's series of six book, each focusing on a boy or girl growing up in the colonial city of Williamsburg. In this entry, the protagonist is Nancy Geddy (who is the niece of the John Geddy featured in Ann's Story), the daughter of a silversmith. Her mother died after her birth and she was brought up learning housewifely duties from her grandmother. Then, when she was ten, her father James dropped a bombshell: he is remarrying!

Now twelve, with a toddler half-brother Jamie, Nancy still chafes at her stepmother's criticism. Elizabeth will not allow her to use her mother's recipes, is always sick now that she is pregnant again, and, when Christmas approaches, is refusing to decorate or make dainties for the twelve days of celebration coming up. But this is only part of Nancy's troubles. One of her best friends is Tom, the orphan apprentice who works at her uncle's foundry. If the new Stamp Act that the British have imposed on the colonies is enacted, the foundry (and Nancy's father's business) might lose customers as well as a way to collect debts, and Tom may have to be let go from his apprenticeship. Can Nancy prevail upon her gentle father to take a stand against the Stamp Act with the other Williamsburg merchants, and somehow come to terms with her feelings about Elizabeth?

I found this a well-moving story with a good explanation (which we rarely got at school) about how the Stamp Act affected the colonial population personally. I just wish there had been a scene at the end where perhaps Nancy would find out why her stepmother was so retiring, and also realizing that pregnancy did indeed make Elizabeth very ill and that she wasn't "acting." There are the usual short essays at the end about Williamsburg and colonial childhood, plus one on the lives of the real characters in the story and another on the Stamp Act.

 The Boston Massacre: A Family History, Serena Zabin
As we zip through our American history classes, the "Boston Massacre" (the shooting of four Boston citizens by British soldiers in 1770) is barely a blip on the radar, except as one of the events that led to the Revolutionary War. And when we do learn it, it's as simple as several hundred British soldiers being quartered on Boston soil who turned on their American "enemies."

Except at the time, they really weren't. Zabin tells the stories of the soldiers, who lived a very poor life, who came to colonial soil under orders, and some came with wives and children, which was common practice back then. Women especially were essential to the military scene, as they not only remained with their husbands, tempering bad influences, but washed, mended, and did minor doctoring for not only their husbands, but his fellow soldiers. These women and children also had to be housed, and some became part of the Boston community. Other soldiers, on their free time, courted and later married Boston (or local) women, so they were not soldiers kept in a separate "ivory tower" encampment, but also became part of the community, so that the rebellion being sown around them was difficult for all involved. Not to mention that some soldiers realized the advantages of living in the colonies rather than a military life or the thoughts of going back to an overcrowded city or lonely village and deserted in impressive numbers, with fellow soldiers reluctant to bring them back and Massachusetts denizens willing to defend them.

This book concentrates on the little known-practice of wives and family accompanying the armies (American wives did this as well, as the tourguides at Valley Forge and other Revolutionary War national parks will tell you) and just how integrated some of the "redcoats" became in Boston society (General Thomas Gage, for instance, had a Boston-bred wife). It is probably of most interest to those studying or interested in the Revolutionary War era.

 Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, Dick Moore
I found this at the "perpetual book sale" at the local library; it's Moore's story of the classic child stars of the silent era through the 1940s (and a bit into the early 1950s). Moore started his career in films before he was a year old and, while he appeared in several "Our Gang" ("Little Rascals") shorts, he's most famous for giving Shirley Temple her first screen kiss in Junior Miss. Moore talks to as many of his fellow child star compatriots as possible, from a candid Jane Withers, to a cagy Shirley Temple, to the child actor he considered his best friend, Matthew Beard ("Stymie" of the Our Gang comedies), as well as Natalie Wood, Roddy McDowall, Diana Cary ("Baby Peggy"), Margaret O'Brien, the Watson boys (the most famous, Bobs, was the famous "he ain't heavy he's my brother" child), Jackie Coogan (whose parents' squandering of the money he earned in Hollywood led to the "Coogan Law" regulating child actors' pay and who it actually went to), Jane Powell, Bonita Granville, and more. Some of the kids had positive experiences, but for most of them it was painful. Dean Stockwell speaks about being teased for his part in The Boy With Green Hair and shaving his curls when he quit films in his teens. They worked long hours, they usually received a sub-par education (Roddy McDowall was chagrined at the lack of education he had; Dick Moore himself remembers only one studio teacher who really cared that they learned their lessons and who wouldn't allow the studio heads to take the kids' three daily hours away), they were forced to pose for photos endlessly and have staged birthday parties.

I found this book fascinating—and ultimately sad at how these kids who delighted us so much at the movies had such a hard life. I also learned something that I didn't know: Gene Reynolds, the noted television producer—he did M*A*S*H—began his career as a child star! Well worth reading if you're a fan of classic film.

 In the Shadow of Vesuvius, Tasha Alexander
Lady Emily and her husband Colin Hargreaves (an intelligence gatherer for the British government) are vacationing in Pompeii with Emily's childhood friend Ivy when they turn up a dead body that has been encased in plaster like the Pompeiian bodies found on the site. The man's body is discovered to be that of an American reporter who had visited the site some months ago. When the police write it off, of course inquisitive Emily and ever-suspicious Colin want to find out who killed the man and why. Their immediate suspects are an American brother-and-sister, Benjamin and Calliope Carter and perhaps the camera-shy archaeological worker Stirling—or perhaps the handsome tour guide Mario. It certainly isn't Emily's old friend Jeremy Bainbridge, who seems enamored by Callie Carter, and surely can't be a young woman who gives a surprising introduction of herself, has a connection with the couple's past, and falls in with Emily and Colin's party.

As in the last few of these mysteries, there are alternate chapters set in AD 79, the date of the fateful eruption of Mount Vesuvius, about a character who seems to have nothing to do with the plot until the last couple of chapters. This is Kassandra, a Pompeiian slave who gains her freedom when her father buys both himself and her out of slavery. She is a talented poet whose work on an epic brings her to the attention of a suitor who courts and later marries her former mistress. The fact that Kassandra's poetry, presented at first anonymously, was well-received when scribbed as graffiti on the Pompeiian walls, was interesting at first, then the story took a really predictable turn (I wanted to shake her and yell "You stupid girl, you should have known that would happen!"), and it's only at the end that her fate ties in with the mystery of the murdered American reporter.

I also wanted to kick Colin's butt more than several times in this story. Due to something revealed a few chapters into the story, he turns into yet another male horse's ass, which is not only not like him, but it led to him treating Emily's feelings quite badly. The charm of Colin always was that he never did this sort of thing, and it's irritating that he's developed the habit now.

I did enjoy most of this except for the conclusion of Kassandra's story and Colin's behavior, as my paternal grandparents lived on the island of Ischia before they emigrated to the US and Vesuvius figured in their past. Also amused at yet another offhand reference to Elizabeth Peters' character Amelia Peabody and Radcliffe Emerson!

 Elfquest: The Final Quest (Volumes 1-4), Wendy and Richard Pini
It seems so long ago, and then again it seems like yesterday that I was traveling up to Boston to visit friends: Mary Bloemker, Pat Brimer, Abby Rogers, Gail Paradis, Deb Walsh, Mary Fall, and Steve Eramo. One of our destinations was the comic book store Million Year Picnic at Harvard Square, and one of the things Abby bought religiously was a comic called Elfquest. I've never been a high fantasy fan or a comics fan, but one weekend when I was staying at Abby and Gail's apartment, I picked up the first issue of Elfquest to read. And the second. And then however many Abby had at that point. And the next time I was in Million Year Picnic, I bought up all the back issues to catch up, and then collected and read for years, although the last hard copies I got was "Kings of the Broken Wheel." Still not being much of a comics devotee, and not going to a comic book store regularly after not going to the laundromat on Buford Highway weekly, I didn't read the subsequent sequels until the Pinis posted them online in 2009.

So I had to collect the final four compilation volumes of the saga, which ended officially February 28, 2018 (40 years after the original issue 1 was published), and they've been sitting in my TBR pile since July. I needed a special day to sit down and read them, and the day I found was perfect: damp, rainy, dark, and miserable. And suddenly it was the 1980s once more, and I rejoined Wolfrider chief Cutter, his lifemate Leetah, his best friend Skywise, his children Sunstream and Ember, and all the Wolfrides, Sun Village people, Go-Backs, Waveriders, and other elfin and human denizens of the World of Two Moons. The time has come finally for the elves to make a decision: stay on the World of Two Moons and face the inexorable march of the warlike humans who are encroaching on their territories, or come back to the floating palace they had arrived in and head back to their origin planet, a decision that will break up friends, families, and even couples. In the meantime children are born, evil humans pillage and destroy while others embrace their elfin visitors, and fate spins its wheel. Fitting adventures lead to an expected parting, but not without a loss or too. Yes, I cried at the end.

 A Dream Given Form: The Unofficial Guide to the Universe of Babylon 5, Ensley F. Guffey and K. Dale Koontz
I thought we had bought every Babylon 5 book ever written (except for the complete "encyclopedia," the price of which makes me want to faint), until I saw this volume; it is a fairly new publication from 2017. Perhaps there is new interest in the series because of it showing on Amazon Prime for so long? I wasn't aware it even existed until someone used it as a reference at the Crusade panel at DragonCon.

Whatever. Don't expect an episode guide—you're better off finding one online or going back and finding Jane Killick's five-volume season-by-season guide. This one looks behind each of the episodes for themes, plot points that will later reappear, origins of quotations or verse uttered by the characters, storylines that link to Shakespeare and other classic (and classical) writers, items that will show up later, even humorous lines of dialog. It's a great read for B5 fans because they notice things even most B5 fans didn't—for instance, I never noticed that Bester never unclenches his left fist!

In addition to all the episodes of the series, the authors also talk about each one of the Babylon 5 films and all the episode of the followup series Crusade, and there is an interview with Peter Jurasik about working on the series and the character of Londo Mollari.

 The Real Beatrix Potter, Nadia Cohen
This is a new biography of Potter. Coming on the heels of Linda Lear's exhaustive biography, I don't think it offers anything new, although I seem not to remember so much material about Canon Hardwick D. Rawnsley, who awakened Beatrix's interest in saving the Lake Country.

Beatrix Potter was born into the wealthy household of Rupert and Helen Potter (a lawyer and amateur photographer, and a heiress) to a stifling life of her parents' social ambitions. She wasn't allowed to have friends, so she turned to art, including highly detailed botanical sketches of fungi, and the clever drawings of small animals in letters to friends' children that became the basis for her "little books," the charming small volumes that became classics. Her first romance ended in tragedy; her second left her a happy, contented farmwife who preserved great tracts of land from developers.

Well told by Cohen. Contains an album of photographs of Potter, her homes, and land.

 The Mutual Admiration Society, Mo Moulton
In 1912, the idea of a woman's going to university was still strange, if not an abomination in some minds. Women's minds were not strong enough to absorb higher learning; it would make them go crazy. Or it would destroy their "womanly, nurturing qualities" and render them unfit wives and mothers. Certainly well-bred feminine women would not want to do anything like that. And just to make certain women didn't get ideas beyond their station, while they could attend university, take the same examinations as men, and be marked, but they could not graduate and receive a diploma.

But more and more young women sought education, including a parson's daughter named Dorothy Sayers, who was learning Latin at age six, wrote prodigious plays and acted them out. At Oxford Dorothy met Muriel St. Clare Byrne, Charis Barnett, and "D. (Dorothy) Rowe." Occasionally along with Muriel "Jim" Jaeger, Amphilis Middlemore, and Catherine "Tony" Godfrey, they formed a group called "the Mutual Admiration Society." They supported each other, occasionally fought with each other, put on elaborate plays with each other, and mostly knew each other's secrets, and they all defied convention. Sayers had a child out of wedlock. Charis Barnett became (shockingly!) a birth-control advocate, and then also a well-known authority on child rearing. Muriel was most certainly a lesbian. From their experiences, and the experiences of the women who stood with them and followed after them, a new generation of independent women rose.

I confess I read this mostly for Dorothy Sayers and the snippets about Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, but I loved reading about university experiences early in the 20th century, and I always enjoy reading about Oxford University.

 The Book of Dust, Volume 2: The Secret Commonwealth, Philip Pullman
Well, I don't know what to say. I put off reading La Belle Sauvage until it reached paperback, but when this went on sale I asked for it as a birthday gift. Pullman's managed to turn this into a Bildungsroman/picaresque journey in which Lyra is severely tested. But what a Lyra! Pullman, whose Daemon Voices expresses contempt for how C.S. Lewis treated Susan, turns her into Susan, someone who doesn't even believe in her daemon any more, due to a couple of avant garde books she is reading, and is set at odds with Pantalaimon from the first page. In the first chapter Pan witnesses a murder and Lyra gets seemingly insignificant news from a classmate that starts the whole plot moving—and before we know it evil plots are roiling and Lyra's and Pan's problems become so severe that he walks out on her. Lyra's quest for him starts with the Gyptians, but leads far afield.

Pullman was determined this book be disturbing and it sure is, but it's annoying as well. Pan is still seething over having been abandoned by Lyra in The Amber Spyglass (which was seven years earlier; surely they'd had it out before then?), doesn't like the books she's reading, and finally goes off on a quest of his own having had a tantrum like a spoiled child. Like many college students, Lyra has let herself be brainwashed by fashionable thought (the truth about the authors is revealed in other narratives in the story). The Magisterium, as a thinly disguised Catholic/Christian church hierarchy gone amuck (as in The Handmaid's Tale) now seems to be being underwritten by a Big Business (oh, Lord, not this again). Instead of an amber spyglass, there is now a new method to see "Dust" and of course the Magisterium (and what seems like some Muslim-like terrorists as well) want to see every industry that can produce this method ruined and/or closed down. The evil  people, of whatever stripe, are ruthless: there are deaths (including of a once-innocent elderly man), of men, women, children, daemons) and violence, including against Lyra. If she came out of The Amber Spyglass with her innocence lost, she's certainly lost everything now. On her travels she, like Huckleberry Finn, goes off on little side trips, the most bizarre of them in Prague with a character who reminded me of someone in Nick O'Donohoe's "Gnomeworks" duology.

And the whole book ends in cliffhanger after cliffhanger. What's going to happen to Alice (arrested) and Malcolm (wounded in searching for Lyra) and Pan and Lyra herself, not to mention the two different men who are stalking her? Well, we've got to wait for the last book to find out.

 Consider the Fork, Bee Wilson
Again, I hate to cook, but I enjoy well-written books about the history of cooking or history and cooking. I actually bought the e-book version of this for James, but turned it up for a dollar and bought a real copy.

Wilson tells the story of cooking and food from Stone Age cooking pots to modern appliances via chapters about pots and pans, slicing implements, heat for cooking, ingredient measurement and ingredient reduction, utensils, preservation of foods, and kitchen design. In the process we learn about Fannie Farmer, how new the use of forks is, the difference between Chinese and Japanese chopsticks, the dangers of cook fires, and how mortar and pestles morphed into mixers.

If you're at all interested in cooking history, you should enjoy this lively book.

 Seasons, edited by Mercedes Lackey
In this thirteenth collection of stories about Lackey's fictional world of Valdemar and its lawkeeping Heralds with their otherworldly Companions. In this edition the stories all revolve around seasonable celebrations: Midwinter, Midsummer, spring festivals, fall harvests. The opening story is rather pedestrian, but most of the remainder are page-turners. Lackey herself finishes the volume with an offbeat story about friendly spiders who have appointed themselves guardians of a small town. Charlotte would probably have approved!

In between we have continuing adventures from previous short stories about Lady Cera of Sandbriar, Herald Wil and his precocious daughter Ivy (who are involved in a tense tale which includes a version of the Welsh Christmas custom the Mari Llwd), the kyree Nwah and her bonded human changeling Kade (a great change comes to their relationship in this story), Hektor Dann and the rest of the Haven city watch in a humorous tale about a yearly contest, the Animal Mindspeech expert Lena and her new husband Keven, the revengeful Paxia in her vendetta against Heralds, and Sparrow and Cloudbrother. Others are standalone, one of my favorites being "A Darkling Light" about two country children who are tasked with setting festival torches alight but who are afraid of running into autumn spirits. "A Midwinter's Gift," about a young woman who overhears a dark plot to ruin a friend, is another enjoyable tale about a girl who is expected to fulfill her family's plans for her future but finds her talents lie in another area altogether.

Great visiting with Valdemar as always!

  The Queens of Animation, Nathalia Holt
Holt did such a good job with The Rise of the Rocket Girls and I have always been such a classic Disney fan that the moment I could afford this book I grabbed it. It's a good book about the contributions of the heretofore silent (or perhaps "silenced") women of the Disney Studios, but ultimately it's sad.

The majority of Disney's chief animators were men, as well as most of the story department. (Women did work at Disney in other capacity besides secretaries and clerks; the Ink and Paint Department was chiefly made up of women who carefully traced and then colored the animators' original drawings to cells that were then filmed.) There were a few exceptions like Bianca Majolie and Grace Huntington, and they were mercilessly bullied by the male animators, including big jolly teddy bear Roy Williams, who would later gain fame onscreen in The Mickey Mouse Club. Almost none of the women in the story department or in other high-ranking animation jobs were ever credited on the films. But you definitely saw their work: the savage dogs in Bambi were designed by a woman. As were the beautiful critically-acclaimed crystal designs in the "Nutcracker" sequence of Fantasia. (Fun fact: "The Nutcracker" ballet was unknown in the United States at the time Fantasia was released, but George Ballanchine was a fan of the original concept drawings. In 1954 he staged the first American version of The Nutcracker on stage, and since then it has become a Christmas classic.)

The saddest tale in the volume has to be that of Mary Blair. If you went to the 1964 World's Fair, she was the designer of "It's a Small World," and you can still see her artistry in both the Disney parks. As Mary Robinson, she married one of Walt's animators, Lee Blair, and her art wowed Disney. Very soon her work eclipsed that of her husband, and he became a violent alcoholic, verbally and physically threatening her and her children. She kept it all hidden.

It was always known that the women at Disney were not paid as well and little allowed into "the boys' club," but this really brings home the bullying and anxieties they went through. It's very sad that these talented men took such glee in doing this. An illuminating but ultimately sobering book.

 A Brushstroke With Death, Bethany Blake
After reading about the tough times of Disney's female animators, I wanted something light to read. This Barnes & Noble "exclusive" (and it is, too; no release on Amazon until this fall) fits the bill: it's a witchy cozy about Willow Bellamy, who owns the art studio The Owl and Crescent, which has a resident owl as well as Willow's pet cat Luna, and a rescue pig. Willow, along with her friends Astrid and Pepper, are all witches, Willow from a long line of Bellamy adepts, including her Grandma Anna and her mother, the latter who has eschewed the craft and is the mayor of Zephyr Hollow. Willow also has custody of the Bellamy spellbook, which figures in the story after one of the local merchants, crabby Evangeline Fletcher, is killed after a meeting at Willow's studio. And did we mention Fletcher's nephew Derek is Willow's old boyfriend? And he'll profit if his aunt dies?

Plus there's another fillip of mystery that pops up: the detective who shows up to investigate the case is a dead ringer for the handsome dark-haired man walking his dog that Willow painted days earlier (and he even has a dog).

So who killed crabby Evangeline? Was it Derek? One of the other small businesspersons, including a weird filmmaker, all of whom hated her? The absent-minded caretaker of the Fletcher property? Or maybe it's Willow herself, since the murder weapon came from a still life she organized? Can Willow, Astrid, and Pepper ferret out the killer?

This is light, fun, and a pleasant way to spend some reading time, especially after some very heavy reading, and the mysterious police detective is easy on the mental image of him.

 America Celebrates! A Patchwork of Weird and Wonderful Holiday Lore. Hennig Cohen and Tristram Peter Coffin
Newspaper and magazine articles make up the contents of this unusual holiday book about American celebrations, from the classic ones everyone knows like New Year's, Christmas, Independence Day, etc. to holidays celebrated by certain ethnic or regional groups, like Boys' Day and Girls' Day in Japanese neighborhoods; the buzzard festival in Hinckley, Ohio; Green Corn Festivals among the Seminole and the Seneca; and Bastille Day among the Cajuns. The dates on these articles range from 19th century datelines all the way through the 1980s: for instance the New Years' articles include pieces on Boston's no-alcohol street party "First Night," the Philadelphia Mummers Parade, and 19th century Open House and calling customs. Fortunetelling superstitions for both New Year's and for Hallowe'en appear, all sorts of Thanksgiving celebrations challenge the classic Pilgrim feast, and King's Day, Sweet Potato Day, Derby Day, St. John's Day, Dewali, and more grace the pages.

 Re-read: Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Kate Douglas Wiggin

  One Fatal Flaw: A Daniel Pitt Mystery, Anne Perry
This is the third entry in Perry's Daniel Pitt series, in which Daniel is begged by a young woman to help her boyfriend, who has been accused of killing a rival gang leader and then covering it up with arson. Daniel's friend, the scientist Miriam fforbes-Croft, recalls that one of her instructors at university, Sir Barnabas Saltram, once was able to save a member of the nobility in a case where a fire killed the man's young wife and he was accused of murdering her. Daniel is able to secure Saltram's services and with the help of his fellow attorney Kitteridge, Robert Adwell is cleared. And then, not weeks later, Rob Adwell is killed in a similar manner in a similar situation, and the young woman who pleaded for his life is accused of the crime. Daniel and Miriam are stunned; two so similar crimes could not have happened. Could they have been wrong? Could Sir Barnabas have been wrong—more than once?

As always, a deliberate narrative in Perry's classic style, and although Miriam is an appealing character, strait-laced and sober Daniel is not as colorful or interesting as either his father or mother were in the earlier Pitt series. The mystery is interesting up to a certain point, when you realize what happened, and then the remainder of the book is proving that.

 Boston: A Social History, Brett Howard
I find the best things at book sales. This one's an episodic history of The Hub, with chapters devoted to the founding (including William Blackstone hightailing it out of there when the Puritans showed up) and setting the record straight: the Pilgrims didn't found Boston, the Puritans did (and they didn't much like each other). Subsequent chapters are devoted to "the first families" of Boston, the Adams family, the Kennedys from the first immigrant to the first Catholic President of the United States, traditional Boston foods, Harvard, Massachusetts writers, the different churches and denominations, Bostonians at war, crime and punishment, and more. The volume is illustrated with vintage woodcuts, engravings, and black and white photographs, and is different from most chronological histories of any city. Enjoyed this.

 Kindness Goes Unpunished, Craig Johnson
In the third book in Johnson's Longmire series, Walt Longmire accompanies his good friend (and sometimes better half) Henry Standing Bear to Philadelphia where Henry will exhibit his Native American photos and deliver a lecture, and Walt will visit with his daughter Cady, who's practicing law at a firm there. But he is no sooner arrived at Cady's home than he gets a heart-stopping phone call: Cady's in the hospital with a severe head injury after falling down concrete steps. As Walt grapples with the fact that Cady may not come out of her coma, he is, of course, also determined to bring her attacker to justice. With the support of the family of his deputy Victoria Moretti, and eventually two Philadelphia police officers (plus Vic's family, most of whom are police), Walt discovers the attack's ties to Cady's boyfriend whom he has doubts about, and who appears to be a drug user. So he's floored when said boyfriend is also killed.

Another great Longmire adventure which takes Walt and Henry out of the familiar environs of Absaroka County while still remaining strongly themselves. Readers of this book say Johnson brings Philadelphia to life; I've only been to the city once doing tourist attractions, but his "Philly" seems very real, from the big areas like the Benjamin Franklin Bridge and monuments to small details like a local bar near Cady's home. Vic's family, as she's stated, are complicated, and Walt learns the full import of that in this story. Also great touches with Walt's and Henry's friendship and how the latter acts as a governor to the former's often hasty decisions.

I usually don't care for police procedurals of any stripe, but this series has me hooked because of the character relationships.

Books Completed Since March 1

 Diversity in Disney Films: Critical Essays on Race, Ethnicity, Gender, Sexuality and Disability, edited by Johnson Cheu
This is a series of essays about...well, as the title says. Especially on the early films, the complaints of racism and sexism are spot on, since they were made in a time when portrayals of this type were common. But many of these essays are about Disney's later animated films (apparently "Disney films" are only animated), and it's surprising that issues are still ongoing; one would think all that nonsense was finished.

There are things I still find puzzling. For instance, there is an essay about Si and Am the cats in Lady and the Tramp, who are said to be a negative stereotype of Asians. This is something I would have never thought of. I have never associated the fact that the cats were nasty with them being Asian; they were nasty because they were cats who hated dogs. I figured the cats were drawn as Siamese because Siamese cats were very fashionable in the era in which the story was set. There is also an essay about Dopey, LeFou (Gaston's sidekick in Beauty and the Beast), and Gus the mouse from Cinderella being negative stereotypes for intellectual disabilities. I hadn't even given a thought to these characters ever being associated with people, especially people affected intellectually like someone with Down syndrome. They are cartoon characters; they have no association with people (and LeFou isn't a bad person because he's stupid; he's bad because he's a toady for Gaston). This was combined with an essay about The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which horrified me because there was a story of a child with scoliosis being treated badly by other children after seeing this movie; all I could think of was "what are their parents teaching them?" This latter article also puzzled me. The author objects to the fact that Quasimodo sees himself as "an animal" and "damaged," when, of course, that's the whole point, that Frollo has made him think of himself that way, no wonder he thinks of himself that way Very strange.

Other essays are spot on: the fact that Tito in Oliver and Company is such a Mexican cliche, the sexualized view of women in the two "South American" features made during the Forties, the fact that most of Disney's powerful women are also wicked and mean, while the "princesses" mostly let things happen to them and succeed only because they are good (and look pretty in a gorgeous gown). I also particularly appreciated the essay about Return to Oz, because I feel it's been sitting too long in the shadow of the "great and powerful" MGM movie and its fans who expected a sequel to be happily Technicolor and musical.

 The Fangirl's Guide to the Galaxy, Sam Maggs
I picked this up because I've been a fangirl since age 10 when I was writing stories about Max and 99 of Get Smart...and then came Star Trek and all sorts of other wonderful goodness. With the internet not around it was tough being a Doctor Who fan in 1974, when most of the responses to your questions about it were literally "Doctor...who?" I was filled in about science fiction conventions by TV Guide and a great book called Star Trek Lives! and once I jumped in I didn't want to ever come back.

This book is at the level of the younger fangirl, but author Maggs never talks down to her. She occasionally gets a little bit too girly for my taste (YMMV), especially at the end of the book when fashion websites get listed, but then clothes and shoes have always bored the life out of me), and the fanfic references seem to be canted heavily toward relationship fic, but the other stuff is there, and it's so great to see someone urging girls to go out and live their dreams instead of being a Disney princess (ewwwwwww) who's just eye-candy for guys. The book is divided into sections about conventions, fanfic, costuming, and other subjects and the emphasis is about being yourself and not who others want you to be. (God knows when you get to be working age you'll be stuck conforming to all sorts of things you hate, so go out and have some fun!)

One point off for sticking the girl on the cover in stereotypical pink!

 The Smuggler's Secrets: A Caroline Mystery, Kathleen Ernst
Caroline is back at her cousin's farm in the country, homesick for Sacketts Harbor, to help out as her aunt and uncle get on their feet after having to flee their prosperous farm in Canada during the War of 1812. Traitors to the American cause are selling supplies to the British and Caroline soon fears that her uncle Aaron is one of them. But as they get acquainted with the neighbors, it seems that several of them could be the culprits, too.

My main complaint with this book is that Caroline and Lydia are supposed to be keeping house and doing farm chores while Aunt Martha is nursing a sick neighbor. "Keeping house" in those days was an intensive job which involved day-to-day drudgery. Where the dickens did they get the time to keep an eye on the potash still and walk miles and miles from neighbor to neighbor to "borrow" things while asking questions? The little clues help you solve the mystery pretty well, nevertheless.

I need to complain about this newest sequence of mysteries, though. For one thing, I hate the dreadful "Beforever" theme that they're now smacking on all the books. "Beforever" what? It's stupid. Plus the cover drawings of each of the girls is pretty vacuous; Kit is perhaps the worst. All the girls look alike except for hair and eye color, and Caroline is shown wandering around the woods in what looks like a good dress and her hair all in curls. Really? Really? These books are supposed to show how girls of the past could be brave and resourceful, not how they can crawl around in the woods and still look pristine. Sheesh.

 Danger in Paris: A Samantha Mystery, Sarah Masters Buckey
This story barely makes "best" in this new American Girl mystery selection. Samantha and Nellie are taking a trip to Paris with the Admiral and his new bride, Samantha's grandmother, "Grandmary." It's a bit of a working vacation for the Admiral, since before he can partake of sightseeing with the rest of the family he must deliver an important letter to the British ambassador. After a trip to the newly-built Eiffel Tower, they tour the Paris catacombs; if they aren't spooky enough for the two girls, the Admiral is injured after a fall in the tunnels. Was it just an accident, they wonder, or did someone push him?

The travelogue parts of this are almost the most interesting. Samantha still speaks too familiarly with the servants (and they right back). And why in the heck didn't Grandmary take Nellie to a doctor first thing when she started coughing; this is a constant fear through the whole book for Nellie and only in the final chapter is addressed. Sheesh.

 The Jazzman's Trumpet: A Kit Mystery, Elizabeth Cody Kimmel
Well, I'm disappointed. Usually the Kit mystery is always the best of the three new mysteries that American Girl issues every year. This one was remarkably simplistic—while the Caroline and Samantha mysteries puzzled me for awhile, it was almost immediately obvious about the identity of one character and who the "bad guy" of the piece was (and that person was a pretty disappointing villain, too). Story: a famous swing band is coming to Cincinnati and Kit is lucky enough to win tickets to the concert. (Kit and her dad are big jazz/swing fans.) She has the chance to interview "Swingin' Slim Simpson"—and Mr. Gibson even says, if it's good enough, he may publish Kit's story in the main paper rather than the children's section. (The one real fantasy aspect of this continuing storyline.) But someone is trying to sabotage the Simpson band performance!

The plot "hook" here, promoted in the description, the theft of Slim' special trumpet, happens so quickly and is resolved so quickly that it's barely interesting. Instead the story goes for schmaltz.

And where in the dickens was Ruthie? Kit's best friend and she's not even mentioned. Kit deserves better.

 The Sound of Music FAQ: All That's Left to Know About Maria, the Von Trapps, and Our Favorite Things, Barry Monush
What, you say, could possibly be left to say about the film? Well, actually, this book touches on many of them, and most of them are good: chapters about the stars before they appeared in the film and then after their appearance (including Christopher Plummer's turnaround from snide comments to admirer), an interesting chapter that takes Maria's original The Story of the Trapp Family Singers and summarizes each chapter to note what made it into the stage play and into the film, the history of the film on home video and of its showings on television. One chapter talks about the two German films about the Trapp family that were made in the 1950s. A helpful chapter chronicles the changes between the stage play and the film (which should have been required reading before NBC presented their live version of The Sound of Music stage play so that so many people wouldn't have whined about how "the story was out of order")

Sadly, there's an interminable sixty-four pages of listing each and every theater that The Sound of Music appeared in during its roadshow appearances in the United States, Great Britain, Australia, and New Zealand, plus a couple of other countries, down to how long the movie theater itself stayed open! Surely this could have been summarized in less than ten pages by hitting the highlights (for instance, a list of the cities where it ran the longest—in some cities it played for 118 weeks at the same theatre! [yes, that's over two years, and this was before the invention of multiplexes]—and a few unusual facts about the theatergoers, such as a British woman who saw Sound of Music 960 times during its roadshow years). Thirty four pages are devoted to the original stars of the stage play—and then every single one of their replacements and each of the cast members of the revivals! A moderately interesting chapter is about the soundtrack albums, but it goes into el cheapo knockoffs as well. Another long chapter which is moderately interesting but really should have used some trimming is about Sound of Music references in everything from movies to television shows, including multiple instances on The Simpsons and Family Guy; if it was an elaborate parody or an extended scene, this would have been worth it, but some of these cites are one line and seem like mere padding—there's 69 pages of this!

If you're a Sound of Music completest, by all means buy, but I'd look for the cheapest deal or wait until you can find a sale copy.

 Spellcast, Barbara Ashford
Maggie Graham's been laid off from her job and is afraid to tell her overprotective mother. And her apartment is falling apart. With that in mind she decides a short vacation to Vermont is in order before she heads out job-hunting again, and finds herself in a picture-perfect country town in front of a barn that looks eerily familiar. The next thing she knows, she's in company with a varied complement of people, including an elderly widower and his granddaughter, a "biker chick," and a man whose wife walked out on him, joining a summer stock theatre company presenting three musicals, including her least favorite story in the world, Carousel. Immediately she's puzzled by the close camaraderie of the theatre management, especially the enigmatic writer and director Rowan Mackenzie.

Yes, you've guessed it, at its heart it's a romance story, one with paranormal underpinnings and a theatrical setting. However, I quite enjoyed the entire combination, especially the use of the theatre to have Maggie, as well as the other characters, look into themselves via the characters they play in the musicals in which they're appearing. The supporting cast of characters is also quite appealing, from the gentle elderly woman who runs the hotel to the seeming martinet of a casting director and his Chinese-American wife who acts as dance coach, and the setting makes you want to flee to Vermont to find the magic hiding among the trees.

YMMV, but as soon as I finished the last page, I clicked through Amazon to order the sequel.

 The Secret Language of Color, Joann and Arielle Eckstutt
This is a colorful confection of a coffee table book with brilliant color photographs and diagrams talking about...surprise!...color, from the scientific explanations to the way colors make us feel and what they are symbolic of (red is for danger...and Coca-Cola, green is for ecology...and spoiled food, etc.). Interim chapters between those devoted to individual colors focus on colors in nature, from the vastness of the universe to the smaller worlds of earth, animals, plants, and humans. Colors in art and the hues of the universe rub shoulders with bird feathers, cochineal dyes, orange-spotted guppies, the varying colors of soil, the chemistry of fireworks, autumn leaves, poisonous greens, melanin, gemstones, and eye color.

Yes, it's expensive, but color junkies like me will enjoy. Or find a used copy.

 Re-read: Blue Ridge Billy, Lois Lenski
I first read this back in junior high school and, truth be told, it wasn't one of my favorite Lenski books, which is why I never bought it when it was out in paperback. I find it has aged well and I enjoyed the story more than I had back then. It's the story of 10-year-old Billy Honeycutt, who lives on the Blue Ridge in the very northwest corner of North Carolina. His father farms, logs, and hunts for a living and expects his family to work as hard as he does; he has nothing but scorn for his wife's brother, who is a famous fiddler. When Billy shows a hankering for music, he comes down hard on the little boy, who was counting on the sale of homemade baskets to buy himself a banjo. In the meantime Billy enjoys the company of Granny Trivett and her granddaughter Sairy Sue, who collect herbs for a living.

Children reading this today might find it hard to believe that people still lived as the Honeycutts and the Trivetts did at the time the book was written in 1946, but some still kept their way of life long after that. Billy works hard to please his stern father. I'm glad I found another copy so not to lose my knowledge of the mountain way of life.

 Hell and Good Company, Richard Rhodes
As the 100th anniversary of World War I approached, some historians noted how little was written about that war as opposed to the second, just has they had for the War of 1812, which disappeared under its predecessor. The Spanish Civil War also disappears into the carnage of the second World War. It was brought back to my own mind after watching Casablanca, in which it was peripherally mentioned that Rick Blaine had fought in the Spanish Civil War, and reading the newest Maisie Dobbs mystery, which is also connected with the Spanish conflict.

This isn't a book about the dry facts and political ideologies of the war, but about those who came from other countries to throw their lot against the Fascists along with the Spanish Republicans: Ernest Hemingway, who came for adventure and got it in spades; journalist Martha Gellhorn who became his mistress; Pablo Picasso and Joan Miro, both working on murals that would represent the carnage going on within their country; the volunteers of the Abraham Lincoln and George Washington Brigades who arrived untrained only knowing they wanted to defend Spain; the doctors and nurses who operated under horrific conditions to save the wounded, and the ambulance drivers who went through hell to transport their patients. Those you've heard of: George Orwell. John Dos Passos. Those you haven't: Patience Darton, the British nurse; Robert Merriman of the Lincoln Battalion; Norman Bethune, the Canadian doctor who delivered blood to the field hospitals. This is the type of book I enjoy, sometimes deeply personal, about the people who gave their time—and for some of them their lives—in what became a prelude to World War II. Highly readable and engrossing throughout.

 The Very Best From Hallmark: Greeting Cards Through the Years, Ellen Stern
This is a delightful coffee-table book that chronicles the history of the Hallmark greeting card from 1924—a card for a bachelor—to the late 1980s, with chapters devoted to cards for men and for women, cards with flowers and cards with animals, baby cards, get well cards, ending, of course, with Christmas cards. It's a treat to look at the evolving style of the cards, from line drawings with elaborate fonts to the red-white-and-blue cards of the World War II era to the bright pinks and reds of the 1960s to the golden cards of the 1980s. There are even sections about "the poor working girl" (with adorable line drawings from the 1940s), beatniks, and snappy comeback to the Depression. The cards are rather small to fit more of them in the book, so a sheet magnifying glass might be useful if you want to see the tiniest detail, but otherwise it's a grand journey over tastes in two decades.

 Bottom Line Year Book 2000, by the editors of Bottom Line Personal
Many, many years ago James used to get the newsletter "Bottom Line Personal" as a freebie; can't remember how or why. This was an intriguing little newsletter with tidbits taken from all sorts of magazines and other newsletters about saving money or just living better. We enjoyed it until the "free" wore off and the paid overstrained our budget. This was the latest of the compilation books that included The Big Black Book that we had down in the library.

I was less enchanted by this collection because a good deal of the pages were about investments and tax deductions. Yes, granted, they're important to people who have enough money to invest or need tax shelters, but for us normal folks it's a radical impossibility. I don't argue because they are there, but because it takes up so much of the book. More savings strategies for lower income people would have been welcome.

 Cherry Cake and Ginger Beer, Jane Brocket
This is a darling little book of recipes taken out of classic children's books. No, I don't cook and bake only at Christmas, but this was so happily nostalgic that I've wanted a copy for ages, but it's out of print and I was finding horrible prices like $40-$50 online. I found this copy for $11.

Now, Brocket is British, so most of the treats covered in this book are from English children's novels, but the odd American/Canadian recipe shows up once in a while: Anne's "liniment" cake from Anne of Green Gables, Ma's pancake men and sugar on snow from the Little House books, Debby's jumbles from the Katy books, etc. But you'll find most of them come from either Enid Blyton (the British equivalent of the Stratmeyer Syndicate, except she was all one person who wrote copiously!) stories like "Famous Five" or from the Swallows and Amazons (plus a couple from the Narnia books). Interestingly, most of the treats featured have some sort of fruit in them, and things like boiled and scrambled eggs, tomato sandwiches, rice puddings, toasted goat cheese on bread, and oatmeal are included in sections on breakfast and on tea, and Brocket insists that half the charm of these treats is that they are made with farm-fresh ingredients, so the foods aren't half so fattening as they sound—since, of course, these are for children having proper adventures instead of wasting time on organized sports with hovering adults. If you love those delicious food scenes in classic children's books, you'll love this book.

 How to Retire Happy, Wild and Free, Ernie J. Zelinski
It has taken me over six months to finish this wretched book! Why? Because up to page 80 (or maybe longer), all the author tells you is that's it's okay to retire because leaving your job is not the end of your life! I can't imagine being one of those people who think their job is their life. I know there are people who love their jobs, but I find it jaw-dropping that people don't want to retire because they don't feel as if they're worth anything if they leave their job! I can see worrying if you will have enough money, or if your health will last, but feeling inadequate because you're no longer employed? My God, I am waiting to retire so I can do something interesting, even if it's just crafts constrained by Michael's coupons or reading or maybe (in the winter, when the weather's decent) actually even doing something with the back yard.

The rest of the book is a little better as the author gives you a list of things you can do, from taking long walks to volunteering to working part-time to going back to school, and urges you to look after your health and not sit hour after hour watching television or sleeping in your favorite armchair. But the first half...dear God, people! If you don't want to retire because being without a job destroys your identity, you need to start a second job right now: getting a life! 

 Re-read: Red Sky at Morning, Richard Bradford
One of my favorites which I just bought a new copy of because it was in hardback and a dollar! I first bought the paperback edition with the movie cover back when the film came out in 1971. (It was from Richard Thomas' appearance in the movie that he was chosen to play John-Boy in The Homecoming and therefore The Waltons.) It's the coming-of-age story of 17-year-old Josh Arnold, who is moved to his family's summer home in New Mexico along with his fragile Southern mother when his father joins the Navy in 1944. While Ann Arnold succumbs to depression in what she considers an alien culture that was her husband's refuge, Josh makes strong friends—and unfortunately some strong enemies—as he attends school and befriends one of his father's oldest friends. It's also the story of his relationship with the home's caretakers, the Montoyas, and how he learns more respect for Spanish culture. It's a sometimes poignant, but often hilarious book, and be warned: these are not 1940s Norman-Rockwell-portrait teens! They swear and think about sex, but at the same time are sensitive and warm, kids you might like to know. This is the type of book I'd push at people and say "You have to read this!" (The movie, if you can find it, is fine, but the book is superb.)

Books Finished Since March 1

 Names on the Land, George R. Stewart
I can't say I never found anything good on the shelves of Barnes & Noble: this is a dandy volume from their scant nonfiction section, a reprint of the 1957 update of a 1944 book chronicling the history of United States place names, from "discovery" by European explorers through settlement. Early English and Spanish place names were variable and changed many times; Native American names were misunderstood and mistranslated. And some names came from jokes! Other naming conventions, in both English and Native Languages, were based on landmarks, historical events and figures, animals, and weather.

If you are a name junkie like myself, you will love this book. Did you know Dayton, OH, was named for an up-and-comer who had the unfortunate fate to back Aaron Burr? What's the mystery: was Rhode Island named after the island of Rhodes? or the Dutch word for the color red? How many cities are named after Biblical places? It's a brook in New England, but a stream in the South—what's the difference? (Nothing!) Wheeling, WV, probably has nothing to do with those objects that go around, but is a Native word for "place-of-the-head." (Someone was beheaded there.)

The writing style is slightly old-fashioned, but author Stewart brightens the text with wry humor. Linguistics fans and history buffs should love it.

 Mr. Churchill's Secretary, Susan Elia MacNeal
Margaret "Maggie" Hope was born in England, but raised in the US by her aunt after the death of her parents. She is gifted in mathematics and planning to attend graduate school when her grandmother dies. Her aunt refuses to return to England, so Maggie is sent to London alone to supervise the disposition of her grandmother's estate, to which she is named heir. But the house proves difficult to sell, and Maggie lives in it instead, surrounding herself with three roommates: her American friend Paige, ballerina Sarah, and outspoken "Chuck," who is dating an RAF pilot. Maggie herself falls in love with living in London, and the plucky grit of the British, as the Phoney War ends and the Blitz begins. She hopes to find a job to challenge her mathematical abilities, but ends up accepting a position as typist in Winston Churchill's War Room instead, despite the protests of the officious office manager, who has a low opinion of women in the workplace.

The description for this book states "for lovers of Jacqueline Winspear...and Anne Perry," but you will find little of Winspear's/Perry's introspection in this novel. Once Maggie begins work for Churchill (replacing a young woman who died in a brutal attack), the plot proceeds at a fine clip, mixing an evocative portrait of wartime London with terrorist activities (not all of them German), Maggie's adjustment to working with Churchill and her efforts to be more than a secretary, her aunt's continual urging of her to come home, the presence of spies and codes, and hinted from the beginning, a hidden secret from Maggie's past.

This novel is enjoyable for the most part if you don't expect the social commentary present in Winspear's and Perry's World War I novels and can ignore several historical gaffes which are touched on in other reviews. I liked the characters for the most part and felt the inaccuracies could be skimmed over, but the story eventually gets a "boy's own adventure" feel to it as the spy/Maggie's secret/terrorist/mystery elements come together in later chapters. I am, however, interested enough in Maggie's new life in England to check out the next entry in the series.

 Damsel in Distress, Carola Dunn
In this fifth in the Daisy Dalrymple series, Daisy's childhood friend Phillip Petrie has met his true love: the vivacious Gloria Arbuckle, daughter of a wealthy American businessman. Vivacious Gloria is equally smitten, and her father even likes him. But when Phillip stops to help the Arbuckles after a motor breakdown, he is kidnapped along with Gloria, then released instead of being disposed of. He finds himself at Daisy's ancestral home, now owned by her cousin, and claims to have been in a car accident. When Arbuckle contacts him, begging to keep the event silent in fear of Gloria's life, Phillip calls Daisy instead. She and her friends arrive at the estate to help Phillip search for his beloved.

This is very much an amateur crimefighting effort, as Daisy and her friends conduct awkward searches in the countryside looking for Cockney-speaking strangers. They make a good go of it, but it eventually starts feeling like a "boys' own adventure" with a bit of Trixie Belden tossed in. There are some truly exciting moments involving Daisy's adventure in a deserted cottage and the climax involving Daisy's beau Alec Fletcher, but there are incredulous moments as well. Still, enjoyable characters as always.

 Origins of the Specious, Patricia T. O'Conner
Well, everyone knows you should never end a sentence in a preposition! And a double negative makes it a positive! And you can't split an infinitive! And...

Well, not quite. This book is subtitled "Myths and Misconceptions of the English Language," and with humor O'Connor goes on to bust most of those ubiquitous language myths and addresses mondegreens, spoonerisms, vowel shift, idioms, word origins that everyone knows and that aren't accurate, those "dirty words," and all the other wonderful spelling and grammar details that we word geeks revel in. If you like your English language trivia served tongue-in-cheek, this is the book for you!

 The Girl is Murder, Kathryn Miller Haines
Ah, the 1940s teenager: pretty, neatly-dressed bobbysoxers having their books carried home by handsome young men with neatly parted hair, and pitching in collecting scrap, knitting for the soldiers, and saving fat during wartime!

This isn't that tale. Instead, it's the story of fifteen-year-old Iris Anderson, former private school student, now boarding in someone else's home with her grim father, who lost a leg at Pearl Harbor, in New York's Lower East Side, still stunned by her mother's suicide, the loss of her best friend Grace, and her introduction to a rough public school environment. Iris knows her father is having trouble keeping up with his cases because of the loss of his leg, and desperately wants to help him, and when a boy from her school disappears, this seems to be her chance.

This is the flip side of all those MGM Technicolor movies about 1940s teens: Iris faces a tense home life, less than friendly classmates, her own demons about her mother's death, and the less sunny-side of a teen's life during the war years is shown: zoot suit hatred, V-girls, teenage drinking and drug use, sneaking out to dance clubs, gang conflict. Haines enlivens the text with 40s slang and dress, and none of her characters is a Perfect Polly or Paul. Iris can be annoying and occasionally hard-headed, not a plaster saint from a homefront movie. If you want a nostalgic mystery, find an old Nancy Drew or Dana Girls; if you're looking for something with more rough edges, this may be your sip from the hip flask.

 Under the Vale, edited by Mercedes Lackey
Er...why does the Companion on the cover have brown eyes? Companions have blue eyes. (All right, now that I look at it again, it's more a brownish-purple. But it's definitely not blue.)

More tales from Valdemar: my favorite story was "Fog of War," the war story taking place during the Tedrel War in the battle where King Sendar was killed. It was very down-to-earth about the everyday responsibilities of a soldier Herald. The first story, about the gigolo, was fun, and I also enjoyed the story about the motley group which includes a drunken Herald who refuses to acknowledge his Companion. Some of the stories, like "A Leash of Greyhounds," are more about aspects of Velgarth society rather than Herald/Companion stories; they aren't bad, but nothing special. "Discordance" is an unusual story about Bardic power that has not been addressed in other stories.

For fans of Jem and Ree, there are two stories involving the pair; a pleasant tale about Herald Jors and his companion Gervais; and another installment in the Dann family chronicles.

 Sorry, I'm British!, Ben Crystal and Adam Russ
Tongue-in-cheek and thoroughly amusing book book about the vagaries of the British psyche and society, with hilarious cartoons, of which my personal favorite is the subway car full of adults reading Harry Potter books while the one child in their midst is reading Proust. I might have hoped for more entries and fewer cartoons, but for Anglophiles, this is a fun read.

 Nancy Drew and Her Sister Sleuths, Michael G. Cornelius and Melanie F. Gregg
This is a dandy series of essays about...well, just as the title says. Intro and first five essays are about Nancy, the rest about Linda Carlton, a "girl aviator"; the odd "Melody Lane" books; Cherry Ames; family as portrayed in the Trixie Belden books; modern girl sleuths like Veronica Mars; Hermione Granger and how she fulfills the sleuth role; and a final occasional stream-of-consciousness essay about the effect of Nancy Drew on her readers.

Probably my favorite essay in this book is the comparison between the original books and the French translations, in which Nancy is "Alice Roy," she is of French heritage but hails from Missouri, her sense of honor and integrity is constantly played up, George Fayne is pushed to the background due to her boyish mannerisms (or given more feminine attributes!), and Bess Marvin is emphasized due to her femininity. It's an eye-opener in how the characters were tweaked to fit French sensibilities; I would have loved more essays about the different translations alone! One essay chronicles the history of the Stratemeyer syndicate and of the Nancy Drew books, another addresses the authorship question, a third touches on the race question in the original series, while the fourth illustrates how Nancy has remained naive about scientific subjects, perhaps still reflecting the attitude even today that girls do not make good scientists or researchers.

Of the remainder of the essays, the most interesting is an examination of the Lillian Garis "Melody Lane" series. Melody Lane was not a girl, but a place where the girl detective lived. These are odd "girl sleuth" books, with the girl being a reluctant sleuth in at least two of them, with contrary characters and sometimes inexplicable plots. The Hermione Granger piece is excellent; I would have preferred another essay about classic girl sleuths (Judy Bolton, perhaps, or the Dana Girls) rather than the piece about modern girl sleuths. All in all, however, a very satisfactory volume!

 The Solitary House, Lynn Shepherd
This is an intriguing mystery based in part on characters created by Charles Dickens in Bleak House, with several characters from Willkie Collins' The Woman in White also mentioned. Protagonist Charles Maddox is an ex-police officer now operating as a private detective, still taking advice from his aging, ex-thief-taker uncle, whose mind is being destroyed by encroaching dementia. A powerful attorney asks the younger Maddox to find the man who sent a member of the aristocracy threatening letters. The investigation not only takes Maddox to the seamier side of London, but reveals an even more horrifying secret being kept by members of the aristocracy.

I have to admit that I have never found novels narrated in the third person omniscient to be appealing, plus occasionally the narrative itself got a bit "precious" (a few times the language almost wandered into the diction of the Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter); however, having now familiarized myself briefly with the basic plot and structure of Bleak House, I understand why the author structured her novel in this way. Her portrait of the squalor of the slums of London is vivid and often as repulsive as the real thing, she paints evocative portraits of the streets, atmosphere, and personas, and the epistolatory segments by Hester are appropriate to the language style of the day. The relationship between Charles and his aging uncle are also well done and often affecting as the brilliant former thief-taker descends into the twilight world of Alzheimer's disease. However, I didn't warm up to Charles as much as I would have liked, and, although the narrative describes him as being quite intelligent, he makes several elementary mistakes and most of his good clues come from his uncle in his more lucid moments or occasionally from dumb luck.

I suppose I might have gotten a bit more from the book had I been familiar with Bleak House or the Collins book, especially as both the attorney and Inspector Bucket are major characters in the Dickens novel. Since I haven't read either book, I have no way of knowing if these characters were portrayed faithfully, so I cannot comment on that. In summary, I enjoyed the sensual portrait of the London slums and countryside of that era and did find the mystery compelling; however, I found the lead character a bit lacking in personality except in exchanges with his uncle, and not quite as intelligent as the narrative implied.

 Clara's Kitchen, Clara Cannucciari
This is a slim little book of mostly recipes by Cannucciari, who became a media sensation after the real-estate bust in a series of YouTube videos in which she cooked frugal meals from the Depression that helped her family survive. The main charm in this book is reading Clara's memories which accompany each recipe. No prim, perfect little girl, feisty Clara relates school antics, family gatherings, and everyday life, as she and her family faced the Depression with fortitude and fun. If you are amazed that people made it through hard times without iPhones, television, and designer clothes, this is the book for you.