Books Finished Since May 1

 Mistletoe and Murder, Carola Dunn
Daisy's first Christmas with her new husband, DI Alec Fletcher, and her stepdaughter Belinda, is hijacked by her imperious mother, who declares the whole family will spend the holiday season at the Cornish estate Brockdene as guests of Lord Westmoor. Alas for the Dowager, who is imagining an elegant country-house Christmas, Lord Westmoor doesn't even live at Brockdene any longer; the house is occupied by some "poor relations" in his family, the Norvilles, who are treated with snobbery by the servants because the female head of the household is from India and her children are of mixed racial ancestry. Not only are relations tense as the Fletchers arrive, but a guest brought by "sea dog" Captain Norville, a straitlaced missionary, turns out to be imperious, unyielding, humorless—and eventually dead.

This is a dandy Daisy outing, with the children (Belinda and Daisy's nephew Derek) providing humor and clues without being cloyingly cute kids. The Norvilles are all appealing characters, especially the gentle grandmother whose marriage to Lord Westmoor's uncle has never been legitimized—well, except for young Jemima, whose irritating adolescence is in nice contrast to Belinda's sunny personality. The manor house and its surrounding estate provides a great setting as well, complete with hidden passages and intriguing antiques. One of the better entries in the Daisy Dalrymple Fletcher mystery series.

 War Work, Libby Oneal
Ms. Oneal, who was a little girl during World War II, based this wartime novel on her own experiences as a child. Zoe and her little sister Rosie face a boring summer since their usual seashore trip has been canceled due to gas rationing. While helping a neighbor boy, Joe Bunch, collect scrap for the war effort, the children discover a man dropping a note into a tree trunk. Convinced he's a spy, the kids start staking out the tree and following the culprit, who seems to be connected to the sisters' neighbor Miss Lavatier, who gives dancing lessons. What's going on? Can the kids catch a spy?

This is considerably less suspenseful than my summary sounds. Despite the mention of scrap collection and Victory gardens, blackouts and German spies, I never got a real 1940s feel from the story. It has more of a 1950s/early 1960s feel to it, and the illustrations don't help; they are in a very 70s style, especially on the cover. Children probably won't notice the difference, but it was a real letdown for me. Plus I know kids didn't have "helicopter" parents back then, but I can't believe Zoe was able to sneak out of the house as many times as she did, get her clothes all dirty, and then have her mother not notice! Zoe's relationship with her little sister is very natural, however, and often comic, and sisters should recognize themselves in Zoe and Rosie.

 Murder at Marble Arch, Anne Perry
How refreshing to see Pitt back where we enjoyed him best, investigating society crime. The rape and murder of Caroline Quixwood, followed by the accidental death of Angeles Castelbranco, daughter of the Portuguese ambassador, sets the stage in Perry's newest Pitt mystery; as the novel unfolds, it becomes apparent the two deaths are connected in some way, especially after it is discovered that Angeles was almost certainly a victim of rape. Both Thomas and Charlotte find that this latter crime hits close to home, as Angeles was only a few years older than their eldest child, fourteen-year-old Jemima, just blooming sexually and beginning to notice young men.

I enjoyed this much more than the more cloak-and-dagger aspects of the last few novels, but admit to being dismayed that Victor Narraway appears to be taking over the Pitt stories. Half the plot revolves around Narraway's investigation of the crimes, and his attraction to the older but still lovely Lady Vespasia Cumming-Gould. I also still miss Gracie, the Pitts' former maid, who is now married; Minnie Maude isn't half so memorable or fun. I wish Perry would write a novel with Gracie and her husband, police officer Samuel Tellman, as the main characters!

 Private Life in Britain's Stately Homes, Michael Paterson
If weeks of watching Downton Abbey have whetted your curiosity about English country houses, you should enjoy this easy-to-read overview of the golden age of the British country house, which only lasted briefly between the time transportation, plumbing, and heating made these country houses a comfortable place to weekend and the beginning of the first World War, after which people were much less likely to want to be servants on a huge estate and inheritance taxes took the bloom off owning huge properties. It may surprise people to know that this "golden age" lasted only around thirty years since so much literary and film attention has been paid to it. Paterson takes us behind the scenes of the history of the great manor homes, and the daily activities of both the "upstairs" and "downstairs" folk. History buffs should enjoy!

 The Apothecary, Maile Meloy
Some of the best books are accidental. There's this one, for instance, which I picked up at Books-a-Million because I was intrigued by the cover and the description on the back cover. Janie Scott lives a fun life in 1952 Hollywood, where her parents are writers for television. But 1952 is also the uneasy reign of Senator McCarthy and the House Committee on Un-American Activities . Knowing they will be subpoened to testify against friends, the Scotts flee to austerity London, where Janie's mom and dad find work writing for a series about Robin Hood. Janie finds herself the "new American kid" in a British school, intrigued by classmate Benjamin, whose father is the local apothecary.

And then Benjamin's father is kidnapped. But why? He's just a neighborhood storekeeper who's tried to persuade Benjamin to follow in his footsteps. Could it have something to do with the Pharmacopoeia?

This is just a dandy adventure story mixing a variety of elements: magic from the apothecary's ancient book the Pharmacopoeia, 1950s spy fiction, English school mystery, traitors, and Soviet agents. As an adult I might have wished for a few more glimpses of austerity Britain and fewer daydreams involving schoolgirl crushes, but the emphasis is pretty spot-on for a fourteen-year-old girl, and it sure beats females gushing over vampires and werewolves. As a plus, the pages are decorated with wonderful charcoal-like pencil sketches. I'd just turned the last page when I discovered a sequel was in the works. (Plus the plot element about American writers living and working in Britain and writing under assumed names is taken from real life as well.) Can't wait!

 The Possibility Dogs, Susannah Charleson
I enjoyed the author's previous Scent of the Missing, and found this volume even more appealing. After a particularly arduous and unsettling search-and-rescue mission with her Golden retriever, Puzzle, Charleson found herself developing PTSD symptoms including repetition of tasks. Soon afterwards she began to foster an abused, starved pit-bull cross that was abandoned by his owners.

For years, service dogs--at first guide dogs for the blind, and, more recently, "hearing-ear" dogs and dogs to help the mobility-impaired--have been specially bred for their tasks. But in adopting "Jake Piper," Charleson investigates the more recent notion of training rescue dogs as service animals, including working as psychological support for those who suffer PTSD or unexpected panic attacks. To that end, she begins training Jake Piper as a "psych dog," discovering in the process that she may need him herself.

Interspersed with Charleson's narrative of training Jake, she recounts stories of people helped by their service animals, including a former firefighter, a young woman who suffers from severe panic attacks, and a man with anxiety disorder whose introduction to service animals came when his son became wheelchair-bound after an accident; abandoned dogs like Annie, Lexie, and Ollie T, who proved that being discarded did not make them unwanted or unlovable; and often amusing (but occasionally heartbreaking) stories of her own pet Pomeranians, including handicapped Misty and the opinionated Mr. Sprit'sl. A pleasant, readable narrative, recommended for dog lovers or those looking for information about the training of service dogs.

 Speak to the Earth, Rachel Peden
I was looking for a book to satisfy my "more Gladys Taber"—since, alas, I have collected and completed all of Taber's delightful "Stillmeadow" books—craving, and noted Rachel Peden mentioned as being similar in style and tone. Speak to the Earth is a compilation of Peden's farm columns from 1940s through the 1970s, as were her previous books. How could you not like a book that starts with "The February day was ending in a cold sunset; no red clouds, no pinkness, no orange-colored glory. Only a dazzling silver disk in a gray muslin sky; a hill from which bushy, dark trees pushed upward; a wind blowing coldly out of the north."

Peden's descriptive language about the land, foliage and animals is beautiful and evocative; I particularly loved the story about her daughter and the violets. She has a nice solid knowledge of insect life, although for myself I would have had fewer descriptions of bugs! I just didn't find her as warm as Taber. I'm probably just being picky. If you enjoy lyrical language about country living, give Peden a try.

 Duel With the Devil, Paul Collins
Murder mystery blends with historical tale in this slim but detail-packed volume about the death of a young Quaker woman whose body is found in a 18th century New York City well. Just before disappearing, the girl confides to a boardinghouse companion that she is to be married to a talented young carpenter who also lives at the boardinghouse. Of course, he becomes the first suspect in her death, and the denizens of the city are howling for his blood. With this in mind a talented team of defense lawyers must be chosen—and it includes Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, four years before their historic duel, and already viciously sniping at each others' political beliefs.

While Collins does an excellent job of maintaining suspense in the mystery, even offering a solution to this, which is termed "America's oldest 'cold case,'" the big draw for me was the eloquent description of 18th century New York City, a noisy and noisome post-Revolutionary community suffering from bad water and constant sickness, the most recent being yellow fever. You are there walking the cobbled streets and dirt roads, hearing the sounds of the blacksmith and the fishmonger, smelling pungent waste and candle wax and livestock, there as civilization's slow progress creeps up from the Battery and approaches Greenwich Village (still an actual village at the time), as the construction of a potable water system is attempted. You meet the venial and the virtuous, the prim ladies and the rakes, feel the bite of winter and the uncomfortable fate of the twelve jurors left to bed down on the floor in a portrait gallery until the trial is finished. For this glimpse into 18th century alone, this book is "worth the trip." A great read for history lovers.

 What's a Dog For?, John Homans
Subtitled "The Surprising History, Science, Philosophy, and Politics of Man's Best Friend," the adoption of Homan's Lab mix Stella sets the stage for his exploration of the dog's place in culture and in science. Homan investigates the intelligence of dogs, from the opinion that they are unique (did you know dogs are the only animal that will follow a pointing finger? not even a chimpanzee will do so) to the studies of others who say that dogs are nothing special in the brains department. Several chapters cover the evolution of wolves into dogs, and then the further segmenting of dogs into breeds and how the breed standards have created health problems in dogs like the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and the German Shepherd (this section includes a interesting chapter that traces the history of the Labrador retriever, descended from the St. John's dog of Newfoundland).

Homans had much interesting information here, although there really wasn't anything "surprising," but I still found the book difficult to complete. The narrative isn't bad, but it isn't compelling either; there's nothing about it that takes me effortlessly from chapter to chapter. I usually finish nonfiction books about dogs in less than a week and this one took me over a month.

 Mr. Monk on Patrol, Lee Goldberg
Monk was always written with a dollop of humor, and in this book the dollop is very large indeed.

In this outing, Monk and Natalie find themselves in Summit, New Jersey, trying to help out old colleague Randy Disher and Monk's old nurse, Sharona Fleming, now a couple. All the elected officials of tiny Summit have been indicted on various fraud charges, so Randy's trying to juggle being police chief, mayor, and God knows what else. Into this has come a spate of home burglaries, and then a woman is murdered, and the "defective detective" and his overworked assistant come to the rescue.

There are some funny moments here, especially when Monk is initially repulsed and then attracted to, due to her OCD proclivities, a woman named Ellen Morse who runs a shop called "Poop," which sells fossilized coprolites and other items to do with excrement, and Natalie continues her voyage of self-discovery in her process of becoming a private investigator on her own. (Randy's still his goofy self verbally, but he's acquired a veneer of responsibility and his real love of Sharona shows through, which reduces me to a puddle of goo.) But the plot and situations are pretty over the top, even compared to past volumes; I'm thinking this is a novel only an Adrian Monk fan could love. (Oh, and by the way, I can't believe it took Monk and Natalie so long to twig to "whodunit." Talk about being self-absorbed!)

 A Question of Honor, Charles Todd
After three very good adventures with Bess Crawford, World War I nursing "sister," this fifth volume returns to the flawless excellence of Bess' first mystery.

Bess' early life was spent in India with her Army officer father, the "Colonel Sahib," as he is known, and her mother. Unlike other children, she is not sent to England to relatives or to boarding school as she gets older, but is tutored at "home." Thus she vividly remembers the shock when dependable, friendly Lieutenant Wade disappears after the police appear searching for him in connection with a murder. Her father, angry at this betrayal of his unit's honor, has the officer searched for, and a report finally comes that he has died trying to escape to Afghanistan. While it cools tempers, except for the few that think the Army is covering up for Wade, the mystery of why the murders occurred is never solved. Then, ten years later as Bess is nursing during the war, a dying Indian sergeant tells her he has seen Lieutenant Wade—alive. It is a mystery that will take Bess from London to the countryside, and in the meantime her battle to save lives in the medical stations of France continues.

In this installment, Bess' ability to travel back and forth to England to investigate the mystery is much more believable, as she accompanies troopships back and forth across the channel, delivering injured men to recuperative facilities and escaping the predations of submarines. Todd spends much time in the trenches with Bess as she endures blood, filth, sleeplessness, and constant shelling, portraying the stark horror of the war in vivid terms. At the same time we are able to follow the bit-by-bit investigation of the reason a family was murdered. The mystery is well drawn out and keeps you guessing, and the fact that Bess does, coincidentally, run into some of the people she needs to talk to in the trenches is not overwhelming. There's even an encounter with Rudyard Kipling, which, if you have read, or seen an adaptation of, his short story "Baa-baa Black Sheep," will give you a clue to the mystery. Bess and Simon continue their "is there something between them?" relationship (with no resolution, but a good working partnership), and the descriptions, from battlefield to bucolic, are evocative and strong. Bess' mother is able to help her with her sleuthing in this outing, and the situations are realistic. I opened this book at Chapter One and didn't put it down until it was finished.

 The War to End Wars 1914-18, Readers Digest
This is part of a series called "20th, The Eventful Century," from Reader's Digest, which I picked up in a used book store. This is a basic, illustrated overview to World War I, filled with a great collection of photographs, drawings, and illustrations of the different battles on the Front. (A two-page spread illustrates the trench system integral to the "Great War.") I'm still looking for a homefront WWI book, if such an animal exists, but in the meantime this illustrated volume filled in some blank spaces rather well with photos of the era.

Books Finished Since April 1

 Here is Where: Discovering America's Great Forgotten History, Andrew Carroll
I always wince a little bit when people say they "hate history," as the author of this book does up front, but on the other hand can understand. For years uninspiring history teachers have made the study a jumble of rote names, dates, and events. I was lucky and had history teachers that tried a bit harder to bring the past alive, parents and relatives who had lived through historic events (the Depression, the Hurricane of 1938, World War II) and talked about it, and, finally, when I reached eleventh grade, Alistair Cooke's brilliant America program. Cooke didn't just name pertinent dates and people, he talked about the things limited history classes left out: Columbus' charismatic personality, the sufferings the pioneers endured crossing the continent, the appalling conditions among the poor and the burlesque houses of the turn of the 20th century, etc. So a book like this, talking about the forgotten people and events of United States history, is like a Christmas feast, the ordinary combined with the extraordinary.

Carroll's journey begins in a light rail station that was the site of an ironic piece of history: there Abraham Lincoln's eldest son Robert was saved from death by Edwin Booth, brother of John Wilkes, a fact not even noted at the rail station itself, which gives him the idea to search for unmarked historical sites all over the country. He begins his journey on the privately-owned island of Niihau in the Hawaiian chain, where a forgotten event (well, to everyone but a recent episode of PBS's History Detectives) eventually led to the internment of Japanese citizens. Along Carroll's journey, you will learn of courageous runaway slaves, of the noted gangster whose brother worked in law enforcement, of ancient settlers' homes and of rocket launches, presidents, ordinary folks, and the fellow who invented television while plowing his father's fields, not to mention the first African-American to not give up a seat on a bus to a white person (hint: it wasn't Rosa Parks).

This book was a real treat for a history lover, and I highly recommend it.

 Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Queen's Necklace, Kathryn Kenny
Apparently whatever ghostwriter did this volume had the impression Trixie was a rude, boorish teenager. Impulsive surely, but rude...what the heck? Trixie laughing so hard about the Shakespearean names of hotel rooms that she gets the Bob-Whites refused rooms? Being so loud in Madame Tussauds that she gets them in trouble? Really. Did they even read the other books?

The skinny on the plot: Honey, Trixie, Mart, and Jim, chaperoned by Miss Trask, are off to London and then to Stratford to track down Mrs. Wheeler's family (no ancestry.com then!) and find out if a large, elaborate paste necklace might have some historical value. Honey inadvertently mentions the necklace in public and the next thing you know, a mysterious man in grey is following them everywhere (or so Trixie thinks, as no one else ever sees him). They gain a guide in an amiable Scotsman who saves Honey from a bus and who takes a shine to Miss Trask (and she, surprisingly, to him!). So are they really being followed? And who's the enemy here?

Besides Trixie's odd antics, because this is for kids everything is explained: the difference in British and American English (Mart is forever translating things), well-known historical sites, even 221B Baker Street, which, I'm sorry, Trixie should have remembered, since they talk about her in connection with Sherlock Holmes so much. Sightseeing facts are tossed in liberally as well, so this may not be the ideal volume for the nostalgic adult. :-)

 French Twist, Catherine Crawford
So what's a nearly retirement age childless woman doing ordering this book? Well, because I'd read French Kids Eat Everything and considered Bringing Up Bebe, and I was intrigued to find yet another book about French parenting making the rounds. I enjoyed this book a lot, but perhaps not for the reason the author would want. I was just plain amused to hear about this novel "French parenting."

You see, fifty years or more ago, when I was a kid (yeah, I did walk to school in the snow, but not uphill both ways) this was the way AMERICAN parents brought up their kids. You were taught to be polite and respectful. You were at least expected to try a new food, and while your mother might give you a break on a few, there were just foods you had to eat because the doctor said they were good for you. Kids didn't eat endless specially prepared meals of chicken fingers, macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs; you ate the good chicken/pork chops/beef/veal you were served along with healthy helpings of corn, salad greens, carrots, etc. Kids washed up and went to bed without endless bedtime rituals and didn't sleep every night in their parents' bed. Screaming tantrums got you removed from the premises. Kids didn't make the rules, the parents did.

Well, until some psychologists and "parenting experts" (a lot of whom didn't even have kids) decided that if you didn't indulge your child in every whim they would grow up emotionally stunted and turn into raving maniacs who hated their parents.

Surprise! we didn't. All of the novelty "French parenting" is just practical advice from an earlier era. The narration is a bit scattershot, but it's mostly fun, but the biggest revelation in this book if you're an older person is how spoiled the author's children were before she started "French parenting." My parents would have been appalled at the manners and habits of Crawford's daughters.

 Dear America: Dreams in the Golden Country, Kathryn Lasky
This is the enjoyable "diary" of Zipporah Feldman ("Zippy" to her friends), who moves with her Jewish family from Russia to the tenements of New York City. The family is discouraged at the crowded, smelly tenement house in which they end up, but soon Zippy is trying to catch up in school (they won't let her go into her proper grade until she can speak English fluently), her eldest sister is organizing sweatshop workers, and her father has found work. Zippy can't figure out, however, where her middle sister goes during the night, nor why her mother is so afraid to give up her old-country ways (including the wig which was traditional among Russian Jews), nor why they need to have a smelly boarder. Once again, as in Christmas After All, Lasky draws on the experiences and memories of her ancestors to make the story more true-to-life. Her portrayal of the crowded conditions in the tenements and in the streets of the Lower East Side are very vivid and jibe with other accounts I have read, including Sam Levinson's. Zippy is a smart and spunky heroine caught between old customs and new, and doing her best to make her own way.

 Doctor Who FAQ, Dave Thompson
Okay, this isn't as good as Star Trek FAQ, since the last sixty pages are pretty much an episode list and a list of books and comics (but for that it's a good summary of each), but there's a lot to like in Thompson's collection, if you can be patient with his likes (the first four Doctors and the seventh, and, marginally, I think the ninth) and dislikes (every other Doctor and every redhead who's stepped aboard the TARDIS—don't get him started on Rory Williams). Neat chapters/essays: how the Fourth Doctor took PBS by storm, followed by a short history of the creation of the series (including its origins in British SF); an examination of the succession of companions; how the author thinks the historical stories have become disappointing; and a ripping entry about "The Daemons." There's also a rather overlong chapter on the villains and intriguing bits on Doctor Who songs (no, not incidental music and the theme song, but tunes like "I'm Gonna Spend My Christmas With a Dalek") and toys, and pieces on sea monsters and the Tube to boot.

And of course there's Daleks. All about the Daleks, and vintage images of Daleks (along with vintage books and posters, which are fun all in themselves). Yeah, it's a bit pricey, but this Who fan since 1974 enjoyed the hell out of it.

 Cronkite's War: His World War II Letters Home, Walter Cronkite IV& Maurice Isserman
Although we watched our news—and all the space mission coverage!—on NBC (Chet Huntley and David Brinkley), there's nothing I like better than watching retrospectives of the past and seeing Walter Cronkite, listening to his authoritative, comforting voice, whether it tells about the anguish over the assassination of a president or the joy of watching man leave his home planet. His The Twentieth Century was a Sunday-night staple in our home.

Cronkite's news career during World War II was what brought him to the fore in news reporting, but, as for almost every other reporter and every other soldier in the fight, his heart was at home with his family and especially with wife Betsy, whom he was separated from for three years. His letters vividly speak of his loneliness.

Unfortunately, they don't speak of a lot else all that interesting. Due to censorship, Cronkite doesn't write much about the war, except for a few poignant bits, like a few lines about a aircraft gunner who stuck to his gun even when the turret cover was ripped off and was so severely frostbitten he had no face left, or a personal experience in which a buzz bomb struck the rear of the building in which Cronkite and a buddy shared an apartment. Mostly he speaks of how much he misses Betsy (and the other red-head in his life, their cocker spaniel Judy), the bad weather, the bad food, his annoying roommates, the lack of fuel, the aborted war assignments. When he does get to go on something significant, he can't write of it to Betsy except in passing, although we do get passages from many of the articles he wrote about those missions via inserted news stories. After a while, it just gets tiresome—especially when we're told by the supporting narrative for the fiftieth time that Judy is the cocker spaniel (we get it, she's their dog) or information is imparted in the narration which is then repeated by Walter several lines later in the actual letter. It was nice to see Cronkite's "softer side," but to tell the truth I found this book slow slogging.

 Trixie Belden and the Mystery at Saratoga, Kathryn Kenny
Another good entry in the "Trixie sequels" (after the classic sixteen), Saratoga, the 24th book in the series, opens with Honey's tearful news that the Manor House's beloved stable manager, Bill Regan, has vanished after leaving her parents and his nephew cryptic notes about having to go away and take care of some business. The girls suspect, since Regan's mysterious past has something to do with the racetracks at Saratoga, New York, that he's there, and, since the Wheelers are also there for the racing season, talk Honey's parents into having them as guests.

Except for the fact that there's a big "information dump" during a library sortie researching a prominent horse owner, and another given by Honey about the history of Saratoga (because Trixie never pays attention in history class, apparently; how does she get promoted in school?), this is a dandy mystery with lots of red herrings and a sauce of danger, even if the girls get into giggling fits one too many times. Oh, and the social problem lesson for this volume is gambling addiction. Recommended for Trixie fans.

(I found it amusing that when Honey does her "history of Saratoga" summary for Trixie, she doesn't mention the one thing a Wimpy-hamburger-loving Bob-White probably would have remembered the most about Saratoga: it was the birthplace of the potato chip!)

 Little Women, Annotated Edition by Daniel Shealy
If you're an Alcott fan, as I am, this volume will be a delight. I've read Little Women since childhood (all the way back to when I complained to my mother when I found out I read an abridged edition—I wanted the whole story!) and, by dint of further reading, found out many of the historical background items for this book, but this collects all of them in a super package, from the many references to Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, to how book events paralleled the Alcotts' real lives, to definitions of familiar objects and terms in the 19th century that have since disappeared, like a charabanc, pickled limes (which, BTW, sound disgusting!), and trumps. (I did find it a bit sad that the author needed to translate several words that I found commonplace; is it really necessary today to tell someone that "sober" means "solemn," for instance?) Other than the fact that a couple of the annotations struck me as incorrect or odd, and that one illustration was mislabeled, this is thoroughly delightful from cover to cover. Included in the text are illustrations from various editions of the book, from May Alcott's originals to the Louis Jambour drawings that I grew up with, and stills from the various film versions of the story.

An introduction provides historical and biographical background to Alcott and the writing of the book. Also cool is the fact that Shealy uses Alcott's original publication text, which was edited when the book was brought out in a uniform edition several years later (this is the version most people have been reading since 1880; Alcott's publishers objected to the slang that had been used in the original version, such as "ain't," and "don't" rather than "doesn't" and corrected them, as well as fixing other descriptions—"stout" was removed from descriptions of both Mrs. March and Professor Bhaer, for example, with "tall" substituted); these changes are listed in an appendix. Absolutely worth the money!

 Shopping, Seduction & Mr. Selfridge, Lindy Woodhead
Just so we're clear here: Mr. Selfridge, which has lately appeared on Masterpiece, is a fictionalized soap opera based on the story of the real Harry Gordon Selfridge; this book is about the real thing. However, the real Harry (his friends actually knew him as "Gordon") was just as audacious as his television counterpart.

When H. Gordon Selfridge opened his first department store at Oxford Street in London, it was the beginning of a revolution. Selfridge, who started out as a stock boy and served under the American department store giant Marshall Field, took the stock from behind the counter, tucked away in nondescript boxes, and put it on display for his customers to touch (and smell, in the case of perfume—he moved the perfume counter to the front of the store to cover the pervading odor of horse from the street). He took makeup "out of the closet" (previously it had been hidden at the back of the store, women not wanting to admit they used "paint" to enhance their appearance). His display windows were inventive and eye-catching rather than just a jumble of for-sale merchandise. His promotions included inviting adventurers of the day, like aviators and explorers, to the store. He believed in paying his employees a living wage. But he had his dark side: losing quantities of money gambling, and being unfaithful to his wife, lavishing large amounts of money on his mistresses.

Woodhead's lively biography is all the more interesting because it's the true tale of Selfridge and the retail world he changed. The modern department store is partially that way because of Selfridge's marketing and design choices one hundred years ago.

 A Crimson Warning, Tasha Alexander
Lady Emily Hargreaves and her husband Colin, dashing espionage agent for the Crown, return to London for the season, but their arrival is greeted with the current scandals: a young woman making a promising engagement is revealed to be illegitimate, a busy exporter was left to burn to death in his own warehouse and before his death, his front door and steps were smeared with red paint. Then red paint begins appearing on other homes, revealing other scandalous secrets, and breaths are held: who will be next and what will be revealed? And will Emily's best friend Ivy be one of those exposed in a scandal?

Alexander seems to be "back in the saddle," so to speak, in this latest Lady Emily mystery. Emily is closely involved in the investigation of who killed the exporter as well as in a later murder which takes place, solving clues scattered in the British Museum among the antiquities she so loves, deciphering codes, even exploring a location where a young woman was supposedly imprisoned and accompanying Colin to a fetid match factory where the disabled are being exploited. A string of colorful characters appear, including the eccentric Lady Glover, who drives a team of zebras, and Jeremy Sheffield makes a welcome reappearance. This isn't a deep psychological mystery, but it's a good solid read.

 Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street, William S. Baring-Gould
You can't read books about Sherlock Holmes without tripping over the title of this book, written by a prominent Sherlockian. It's a biography of the Great Detective, deduced from comments and references in the Canon as well as deductions made over the years by the Baker Street Irregulars (not Holmes' youthful assistants, but the society of Holmes lovers). A good portion of the text is given over to retelling some of the notable stories of the canon, so the faithful Holmes fan may find much repetition. It's interesting to see the biographical deductions, especially in Holmes' early life, while one later relation seems a bit of a stretch. I'm glad I finally found this book after reading about it so many time, but IMHO I don't think it would be of interest to anyone who isn't a Sherlock Holmes fan. If you're a Holmes newbie and want an introduction to the universe, something like the "Dummies" guide to Holmes would be a better bet.

 Two for Sorrow, Nicola Upson
"Baby farming" was the name given to the 19th-early 20th century practice of unscrupulous midwives who took in unwed expectant mothers (or women who didn't want any more children), promising them that their children would be adopted, but in reality allowing the babies to die. When Josephine Tey decides to write a novel about the two most notorious baby farmers, Amelia Sach and Annie Walters, who were hanged at Holloway Prison, she has no idea how her research will eventually connect to the brutal murder of a young ex-convict working as a seamstress.

Multiple plotlines run through this third Josephine Tey mystery. One is the novel that Josephine is writing, which tries to make sense of why a woman so devoted to her own child would condone the death of babies. There is also the continuing story from the previous books in which Josephine comes to terms with a relationship. The main storyline involves Tey's club, which is associated with a nurses' college, a charity show for which Inspector Archie Penrose's cousins are making the costumes, the seamstress' murder, and the long-ago suicide of a university classmate of Tey's. This is a complicated mystery with many threads, and the addition of the relationship issue almost bogs the story down. Still, I found myself enjoying the puzzle enough that the romantic plotline didn't distract me overmuch. If you are sensitive to such things, do note that the murder is described in detail and there is also a detailed sexual encounter.

Read Faster, You Fool

I've been an Amazon Vine member since 2009. I'd been doing Amazon reviews for a while before that, and was very surprised to be asked, because I certainly didn't have hundreds of reviews.

The idea is that every third Thursday you are sent a "targeted" list, supposedly by your interests. (There are some bitter comments from childless people who get offered baby strollers or nipples for bottles, women who are offered men's items, etc.) This is usually one to two pages. Then on the following Thursday all the items left are offered and you can pick two more. The items are usually books, but almost everything else has been offered, from electronics to food. You get the items for free, but in return, you are required to review them—a more thoughtful review than "I really liked this" or "This was awful."

The rule was, when I joined, that you had to review 75 percent of everything on your list. This was fair. I pretty much kept up with this for quite a while, but then, just being human, did skip some things. Last year the percentage you had to review was increased to 80 percent.

Sometimes things just don't work out. I've loved Amazon Vine because, since the books were Advance Reader Copies and free, I could occasionally step out of my book comfort zone without feeling like I'd wasted money. I don't usually read "chick lit," but once I selected a novel about a fictional dressmaker aboard the Titanic, another about a young woman living in Niagara Falls just after the falls were rigged to provide electrical power. I even got some military nonfiction. Just lately I got a book of Oz short fiction (definitely for adults), even though I've never been much of an Oz fan. But I also got a book that I thought was a geological history that turned out to be a climate change diatribe. A book about dogs that has actually turned out to be a bit dull. And even a piece of electronics which I ended up not using because after I read the other reviews of it, I didn't want to take a chance with it.

Friday everyone on Amazon Vine got an e-mail. Starting May 15, 100 percent of everything you order has to be reviewed within 30 days. Ouch! If you read slowly, better not order tomes. If they're offering something summery in December, you're probably not going to take it. Waiting till the grandkids visit at Thanksgiving to test out the cool toy you chose in May—not any more. The sticker was that this 100 percent review policy is retroactive through the beginning of January. So most of us have to hustle to get any back items reviewed. I'm enjoying Cronkite's War, but it's slow going as well. I have that and another book to finish for this month and will need to watch what I order from now on.

I guess I understand. The publishers and manufacturers want some advance reviews on the site before the product is released and everyone's been procrastinating too much, including me. Sadly, it's "safe" choices from now on.

Now to finish Cronkite...

Books Finished Since March 1

 Lost States, Michael J. Trinklein
I first saw this book while wandering around Borders (::sob!::), but it was too expensive for me (even during the liquidation). So you can see why I pounced on it when it turned up on a remainder table.

Everyone knows about the fifty states—but how about the states that "almost were," or ones that died "a'borning"? Thomas Jefferson, for instance, envisioned a group of states in the northern Midwest called Sylvania, Michigania, Metropotamia, and Saratoga (among others). Utah began as territory three times as large, called "Deseret" (honeybee). Northern Californians/southern Oregonians have considered a new state called Sonoma. Did you know Cuba and Greenland were considered to become states?

These "almost" states range from the founding of the United States all the way through the 1950s. Trinklein's narrative is a little bit more tongue-in-cheek than I would have liked, but his explanations are sound and each "state" is illustrated with either an actual map of the era or handsome reproductions. If you're a geography fan like me, you'll enjoy it.

 Those Angry Days: Roosevelt, Lindbergh and America's Fight Over World War II, Lynne Olson
My father fought in World War II, and my mother saw her brothers and nephews become soldiers. I grew up on my mother's stories and would beg her to "tell about what happened the day of Pearl Harbor" over and over again. World War II was as real to me as my childhood days in the 1960s. My parents, like most kids in the 1920s, were awed by Charles Lindbergh's historic flight, but during World War II they never forgave him (nor other Americans like Henry Ford) for "siding with" the Germans and the isolationist faction. When I saw this book I knew I had to read it to get more information on the isolationist movement.

Olson's absorbing book examines the tense years of 1939 through 1941, when Great Britain was hanging on by their fingertips from the Nazi onslaught and desperate for any type of help, be it equipment or munitions (but hopefully manpower), from the United States. Americans had been badly bruised by "the war to end all wars." Having marched home triumphantly after making "the world safe for democracy," they were disillusioned by the war dead and injured, the continued squabbling for territory in Europe, and the nonpayment of the Allies' massive war debt, especially after the Depression began. The isolationists had no better spokesman than the heroic Lindbergh, already an intensely private man whose subsequent fame after his 1927 flight and the following horrific kidnapping and death of his son made him even more insular. Meanwhile, Franklin Roosevelt and many of his compatriots believed that if Great Britain fell, the United States was next on Hitler's plate.

In the midst of the emotional battles between those wanting to stay away from Europe's dance of death and those who wished to fight the expanding sphere of Nazism, Olson gives us fascinating glimpses into the past: the British agency who operated covertly from Rockefeller Center to convince Americans that Great Britain was worth supporting; the Americans like Lindbergh and Ford who saw something different in German expansion; sensitive Anne Morrow, who married and loved Charles Lindbergh, but was increasingly alienated by him; the use of Hollywood films to show the effects of rising Nazism; the eugenics movement that underpinned "the final solution," the appalling weakness of the American army right up to the day of Pearl Harbor. This is a sizable book, but one with a sweeping, appealing narrative that presents all sides of the arguments (and, in the end, notes a startling footnote to the life of Charles Lindbergh). An enjoyable read for those interested in history.

 Europe on 5 Wrong Turns a Day, Doug Mack
Doug is at a book festival waiting for  his mother when he comes upon a tattered copy of Arthur Frommer's classic Europe on $5 a Day, one of the first books that convinced ordinary Americans that "the Grand Tour" of old wasn't just a fancy of the rich. Instead of seeing the book as the joke he intended, Doug's mom is thrilled: in 1967 she traveled to Europe with a friend using the same book as a guide and had a wonderful time. So Doug Mack thought it would be interesting to take the vintage Frommer book to Europe and follow his mother's trip, to see what the landmarks and restaurants Frommer pointed out look like today.

This is a fun travel book, if a little melancholy, as Mack discovers that most of the beautiful free sights noted by Frommer are today covered with strip malls and house developments, much like the United States, and that the roles once played by natives of each country have been taken over by new immigrants. He visits the fleshpits of Amsterdam, explores the relics of a formerly divided Berlin, takes in the Oktoberfest spirit of Munich, encounters swamped sidewalks in Venice, and wall-to-wall tourists in Rome, not to mention making the obligatory visit to Mannekin-Pis (the fountain in Brussels with the little boy pee'ing—and, oh yeah, there's a little girl counterpart, too!). It's also the history of the Arthur Frommer books, from their genesis as a soldier's guide to returning to a peacetime Europe after World War II to the present.

I enjoyed reading this travelogue, although Mack's search for a romance and his dissatisfaction with not finding things as they were got a bit tiresome after a while. However, it was still worth reading for me, especially the glimpses of his mother's own trip in the 1960s.

 Told Under the Stars and Stripes, Association for Childhood Education International
These "Under the Umbrella" children's short story collections were published by the Association for Childhood Education, and this particular volume printed in 1945; I picked it up at the spring library book sale. I was reading it at the mechanic's, waiting for a tire change. The stories are all about immigrant children, or children moving from one region of the country from another, and the challenges they face. What is absolutely astounding about all of them is that although this was written in 1945, there are no prejudices shown in these stories as were still in other children's books of the time. Yes, immigrant parents speak in broken English, but it's not patronizing, and, most impressive, is that the two stories about African-American children do not include, from children and adults alike, the stereotypical "Amos and Andy" type malaprop language that was common in kids' books in those days involving "Negros." No one says "what dat?" or talks about "ghosties" or makes watermelon jokes as were still in the Bobbsey Twin books in the 1940s. Even the story that takes place in Harlem contains no shuffling Stepin Fetchits. Impressed. Really, really impressed.

 Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild, Kristiana Gregory
The Fairchild family sets out by ship to Oregon, but halfway there disaster strikes: Mrs. Fairchild is swept overboard during a storm, leaving a grieving Doctor Fairchild and the two teenage daughters, Clara and Susannah, alone. It is also enroute that news of the gold strike in California comes, and Susannah is baffled and horrified when her father quits the Oregon plan to become a gold miner.

Soon the Fairchilds find out the truth about the work needed to find gold. They encounter treachery and theft and betrayal, but make fast new new friends and conquer the hostile environment around them. A similar element of romance as in The Great Railroad Race creeps into this story, and it's pretty obvious when it happens. A workmanlike book that imparts all the requisite historical information.

 Trixie Belden and the Mystery at Mead's Mountain, Kathryn Kenny
When a friend of Mr. Wheeler buys a ski lodge, the Bob-Whites are thrilled to get an invitation to check out the slopes in Vermont. There's a rumor that there is a ghost at the lodge on Mead's Mountain, which piques the interest (naturally) of Trixie and Honey. They soon find that the lodge is beautiful and that the caretakers, Pat and Katie O'Brien, are model hosts. But things start to go wrong: they receive threatening notes from the "ghost," items are stolen out of the Bob-Whites rooms, and Trixie becomes suspicious of the new ski instructor.

Thankfully, there's no one pointing guns or knives at Bobby Belden in this outing. It's pretty much straight mystery, with many red herrings and still a bit of danger in the end. Would that they were all like this!

 The Lexicon, Steve Vander Ark
One of the most popular web outgrowths of the Harry Potter books was the extensive, exhaustive "Harry Potter Lexicon," an encyclopedia of the Potterverse. Drawings, photos, cross-reference, even conjecture found its way on the site. JK Rowling enthusiastically supported it.

However when a publisher came a'calling, Rowling objected to a book being published, as she was considering her own Harry Potter encyclopedia. So The Lexicon published is a much abridged item. It's still a fun read, but, sadly, not as complete as the original. I'd save it for a bargain purchase.

 The Great Railroad Race: The Diary of Libby West, Kristiana Gregory
This is the third "Dear America" book by Kristiana Gregory that I've read and I have come to the conclusion that I don't like her stories very much. She's not a dreadful writer or anything like that, but her books don't seem to have the luster others do.

Libby West's newspaperman father is determined to go west to cover the completion of the transcontinental railroad, and, since her mother will not let him go alone, the entire family, parents, Libby, and her precocious younger brother Joe travel to Utah. On the way they encounter both good people and bad (including a frightening outing to a "hell town" by Libby and a friend), are curious about the Mormons, and puzzle over why Mr. West is so patient with his grubby, smelly assistant Pete, an old friend from his Army days.

Gregory does a nice job describing the activity around the construction of the railroad and the conflicts and dangers of the day, but I just don't find her prose all that inspiring. YMMV.

 Serving Victoria, Kate Hubbard
Say "lady in waiting" or "queen's equerry," and what would  you imagine? I'm sure more than a few folks would envision a glamorous position doing a few light chores while enjoying the pleasures of a magnificent palace, dressing up in lovely clothing, and meeting with all sorts of interesting political and national figures.

Being one of the royal attendants to Queen Victoria, alas, was nothing like that. Her ladies-in-waiting endured freezing environments indoors (Victoria didn't allow her homes to be any warmer than 60 degrees) and out (long open carriage rides, even in winter), close supervision of their personal lives down to the books they could read, separation from their children, and dull evenings making small talk over meals or embroidery. Her male secretaries and assistants rarely saw their wives, were driven to ulcers, and had to endure the impertinence of more favored servants (like the Highlanders from Balmoral, who were pretty much constantly drunk). Everyone was expected to wear some sort of mourning clothes for many years following the death of Prince Albert, and as the queen grew older and lost more members of her family and household, there were memorial services almost every month at which black must be worn. Yet most of Victoria's entourage were devoted to her.

Hubbard weaves an absorbing narrative of the women and men who kept Victoria happy and the monarchy running smoothly, using material taken from personal diaries and letters. Considering the queen's whims and the strain under which the servants were required to perform, I'm surprised more of them didn't go to an early grave, as many of them suffered nervous breakdowns, and, at the very least, loneliness with regards to their family and lack of sleep. There were many details of the Queen's life that I had not read in other volumes (the Princess Royal's tantrums, for example, or about her Highland and Indian servants being favored over the rest—previously I thought only John Brown alone received such exalted status) and Hubbard writes in a brisk style that imparts many details without being dull. If you are curious about "backstairs at the palace," you should enjoy this volume.

 A Time for Courage: The Suffragette Diary of Kathleen Bowen, Kathryn Lasky
Girls today may not be able to grasp the idea of how few rights women had in the so-called "modern world" not so long ago. Those who react indignantly to the mistreatment of women by certain religious groups today would be shocked to realize that, before 1920, women in the United States not only could not vote, but in many states were unable to own property, and that in a divorce a husband almost always received custody of the children and it was the woman who was "ruined" by the act, even if the husband was abusive. Indeed, police often did not respond to domestic violence calls because the opinion was "she had it coming."

It is this world Kathleen Bowen is growing up in. Her mother, sister, and aunt are staunch suffragettes, used to being called "unnatural" by both men and women alike, peacefully marching with protest signs (no, that wasn't just in the 1960s) and being attacked and arrested. Her aunt's husband is against women's suffrage and her aunt and cousin lead a miserable life under his thumb. Meanwhile, World War I is raging in Europe and some women are longing to help in the war effort in more ways than knitting and rolling bandages.

Lasky lends a nice flavor to this 1917-set novel, although I didn't like it as much as Christmas After All. Her chapters about the force-feeding of women prisoners are pretty chilling. I did notice one basic historical error: she talks about children trick-or-treating. This custom did not start until the 1930s and was not really popular until after World War II. Before that, children and adults had Hallowe'en parties where they played games and told fortunes.

 His Majesty's Hope, Susan Elia MacNeal
MacNeal gets to a little more "meat" in this third installment of the story of Margaret "Maggie" Hope, a British-born but American-raised young woman with a talent for mathematics who is back in wartime Britain and will be going on her first undercover mission for the Allies. She is given two relatively "easy" tasks (if she can avoid being caught by the Nazis, of course) and has then been instructed to come home. But as always with Maggie, things are never easy. She discovers there is more important information she can glean by staying in Germany, even if it costs her her life—not to mention a face-to-face meeting with someone she had always been told was dead.

Those readers charmed but occasionally frustrated by Maggie's "Nancy Drew for adults" adventures will find this volume a bit more disturbing, as MacNeal addresses Hitler's original "final solution" of "humanely euthanizing the sick, the mentally ill (including homosexuals) and "deficient," and other undesirables through the eyes of a young German nurse who discovers the truth while caring for a little girl with Downs Syndrome. (Hitler's jeer that the Americans' concern about this policy makes them hypocrites due to the US theories of eugenics and treatment of people of color will truly make you wince.) If you are sensitive to this type of story, I would beware reading this book. Otherwise, Maggie's career continues apace as she discovers more family secrets and becomes toughened to the realities of war (especially to the results that her actions have to those connected with her). In addition, her homosexual friend is "outed," which bringing pain to him and his lover, and Maggie's own lover Hugh becomes embroiled in sensitive issues at Bletchley Park. MacNeal's modern references are getting fewer, but boy, do they toss you out of the story. When Maggie admires a friend's "baby bump" ("baby bump"? in 1940s Britain? seriously?), my jaw dropped. But I still raced through the pages to get to this installment's conclusion. Take that as you will.

The Spring Library Book Sale

This morning I got there late enough not to have to stand in line, but early enough. Didn't spend much time in the alphabetized fiction, but I never do as the volumes are heavily bestsellers. Heck, "P" should just be labeled "James Patterson" and "Jodi Picault." I'm always looking for Barbara Paul's Marian Larch mysteries (they have a character based on Paul Darrow's Avon character from Blake's 7), since I never saw them in bookstores. Miracles still do not occur. You also find fewer and fewer really old children's books anymore. And I did not luck out and find the companion book for my hardback of The Good Master (The Singing Tree).

I did hit the usuals: Literature, History, Biography, the Nature and Animals section, Science, Travel, even took a peek in Sociology, and then braved the Stroller Crowd at the children's books. But first I found the Christmas books on a cart right in front. They did have more of the "World Book" Christmas In... books, and, since I had wisely taken inventory of the ones I already had, I only picked up four: Spain, Brazil, Holy Land, and Russia. I also found something called The Christmas Almanack, which is a cheap paper but fat book with customs, countries, and stories and song references.

The rest of the tally:

• Letter from New York by Helene Hanff, based on broadcasts she did for the BBC
• Through the Children's Gate by Adam Gopnik
• A Year in the Maine Woods (which I thought I might already have and I did; ah, well, it was only $1.50)
• Usage and Abusage, an English usage manual by Eric Partridge
• Blue Latitudes by Tony Horowitz (following Captain Cook's voyage; I loved his A Voyage Long and Strange)
• Three "Dear America" books (the Gold Rush, transcontinental railroad, and the diary of a Jewish immigrant)
• A Dictionary of First Names
• Told Under the Stars and Stripes, tales of international children now living in the United States
• Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street by William S. Baring-Gould, which is supposed to be a classic

And a brand-new book I can't mention because it's intended as a gift.

James got home early and had happened to read my Facebook post about having passed up two books of literary criticism of Robert Heinlein. (Also passed up a book of short stories by Alexander Wolcott, one of the Algonquin Round Table writers.) He said he would have been interested in them. I said, "Well, we could always go back."

And so we did. The place was nearly empty, and the earlier crowds had scarfed up a ton of books; books that were in boxes on the floor this morning were on the tables now. (Yes, I do notice what's on the floor.) The Heinlein books were still there, though, and he found some other cool stuff, too, including a 1945 book of classic science fiction short stories.

The second tally (yeah, second, even with the books picked over):

• Christmas in Poland
• An Oxford Book of Christmas Stories (lovely illos here)
• Street Gang [the story of Sesame Street]
• An Italian Education by Tim Parks, sequel to his Italian Neighbors, which I already have
• A Year in Provence, because it's mentioned in every travel narrative I read
• The Mystery of the Black Diamonds by Phyllis A. Whitney, one of her teen mysteries
• Holiday Symbols, from all countries and religions (heck, and events; they even have the Stupid Bowl and the Indy 500)
• And finally 1950's The Little Princesses, a memoir by Marion Crawford, the beloved governess "Crawfie" of Lilibet and Margaret, otherwise known as Queen Elizabeth II and Princess Margaret

I was reading Told Under the Stars and Stripes at the mechanic's, waiting for my tire change. These children's short story collections were published by the Association for Childhood Education, and this particular volume printed in 1945. What is absolutely astounding about all of them is that although this was written in 1945, there are no prejudices shown in these stories as were still in other children's books of the time. Yes, immigrant parents speak in broken English, but it's not patronizing, and, most impressive, is that the two stories about African-American children do not include, from children and adults alike, the stereotypical "Amos and Andy" type malaprop language that was common in kids' books in those days involving "Negros." No one says "what dat?" or talks about "ghostes" or makes watermelon jokes as were still in the Bobbsey Twin books in the 1940s. Even the story that takes place in Harlem contains no shuffling Stepin Fetchits. Impressed. Really, really impressed.

Oh, Look: Upcoming!

Little Women: An Annotated Edition

I have the annotated Anne of Green Gables and love it! This one is already on order.

[April 16: This came today! It's lovely!]

Books Finished Since February 1

 Call the Midwife, Jennifer Worth
In 1950, young, middle-class Jennifer Lee graduated as a midwife and was assigned to what she thought was a hospital in the East End of London, then a slum area crowded with hundreds of tenement buildings filled with the poor families of dockworkers. The "hospital" turned out to be a convent of Anglican nuns who practiced midwifery. For Jenny, the squalid surroundings were a shock, but in her practice she learned that, like anywhere else, good and bad existed no matter what the economic state.

This is the original memoir from which the hit British television series was taken (along with its sequel, Shadow of the Workhouse) and provides a wonderful window into a different time. The appalling conditions of the East End are not glossed over, and several sequences, like the story of Mrs. Jenkins and Mary's tale, will probably make you cry. The nuns and Jenny's fellow midwives, especially tall, clumsy "Chummy," the poor little rich girl determined to help others, and Sister Monica Joan, elderly and suffering from bouts of dementia, are unique and memorable figures.

Worth's writing is crisp and brisk, whether writing about a particularly difficult birth or about the humorous exploits of the convent's man-of-all-work, and this is a terrific memoir of a lost time. Please be warned, though, that the elements surrounding the workhouse patients (especially in the sequel) are often very painful. If situations like that bother you, you might want to give this a miss, or at least be prepared to skip certain chapters.

 The Blythes are Quoted, L. M. Montgomery
This is a very unusual book, the actual final book in the Anne of Green Gables series. It was delivered to Montgomery's publisher just before her death and, at that time, was not published in its complete form because it was submitted during World War II and the publisher felt people might not like its anti-war sentiments.

As originally written, Montgomery intersperses short stories in which Anne and Gilbert Blythe are mentioned (or in which their children are mentioned or play very small roles), among poetry of her own that she attributes to Anne or her son Walter, who died in World War I, and bits of dialog between Anne, Gilbert, their housekeeper Susan Baker, and, later in the book, their older children. In this way you find out the fates of the Blythe children (pretty much paired up as you might have expected after the ending of Rilla of Ingleside) and learn that now their children are set to participate in yet another world war. Eventually the poetry and dialog was removed, a story excised, and the book published as The Road to Yesterday. This Penguin version is the first time the original book has been seen by the public.

The stories are a mixed bag, and of subjects that Anne fans only might think inappropriate (divorce, revenge, deserted children, etc.). Several of them, like "Penelope Struts Her Theories" and "Brother Beware," are quite humorous, but most are darker, especially the opening story, "Some Fools and a Saint," and also "Retribution." The continual mentioning of the Blythes in several of the stories seems forced. The poetry ranges from lyrical nature to musings over death and the nature of loss.

I enjoyed this book, but I can't say it's always easy to read. Once lively Anne remains grief-stricken at her son's death and for those of us who grew up with her, it's difficult to see her so sad.

And, okay, I have to say it; I feel the same way about this as I do about the rest of the later books: Susan Baker drives me crazy. I wish she would shut up and let Anne and Gilbert have more "airtime." YMMV.

 Farmer Boy Goes West, Heather Williams
Having tackled all manner of Laura Ingalls sequels, this newest "Little House" title is a sequel to Wilder's Farmer Boy, following the later adventures of Almanzo Wilder. Now thirteen, Almanzo is facing boarding school until his father decides to accept an invitation from his Uncle George, now living in Spring Valley, Minnesota, with his wife, to visit their farm and perhaps buy land. Almanzo chooses to accompany his parents, sister Alice, and baby brother Perley to Minnesota, only to find Uncle George ill, his aunt Martha unfriendly, and the farm not doing as well as George has always stated. But there's also a new friend, new challenges, a new horse (of course!), and even a rather attractive young classmate!

Given that the "Little House" books are really novels based on biography, Williams does a good job of portraying Almanzo's later adolescence. Father Wilder seems a bit milder than he was in the original book, but otherwise the narrative seems to capture the characters and the time pretty well (except for a rather strained "kiss with history" that author Williams tells us really happened in an informative afterword). I enjoyed this...YMMV.

 The Letters of Dorothy L. Sayers Volume 1, chosen and edited by Barbara Reynolds
Let's say that you may have to be interested in the life of Ms. Sayers to enjoy this book. Reynolds has collected her correspondence from her first girlish letters from school all the way through the publication of the final Lord Peter Wimsey books, chronicling her years at Oxford, her struggle to find a career, and her relationships with friends and with the man who formed the basis for the character of Philip Boyes in Strong Poison. It was due to her breakup with John Cournos that Sayers had a rebound romance with a motor mechanic and conceived a son, John Anthony, whom she entrusted to the care of a close cousin for his upbringing. For years her son thought Sayers' cousin was his mother and Sayers his cousin until the truth was finally revealed to him.

No insights are really given into her books via the correspondence, which is a pity (although there are a couple of times where you say "Oh, that's where that came from!"), but it's a vibrant portrait of Sayers, who went boldly to university in a era when women were still viewed by many as "unnatural" for doing so (see Gaudy Night) and made her own way in the world (well, with some monetary gifts from her parents), not conforming to stereotypes. I'm a Sayers fan, so I found the collection enjoyable. If you've never read a Sayers' mystery or one of her religious translations, the letters will probably not hold your interest.

 Elemental Magic, edited by Mercedes Lackey
I've rarely been this disappointed by a Lackey short story selection.

Instead of the usual collection of Valdemar-set short stories, these revolve around Lackey's Elemental Masters universe, which postulates practitioners of magic aided by Air, Water, Fire or Earth disciplines. While Lackey's universe covers the late Victorian through World War I era, the stories cover Elemental Masters through all phases of history, and perhaps that was a bit of the problem for me, as I like the Victorian/Edwardian settings. But the first two stories, which take place in Ancient Greece, I thought were rather dull. Another two of the tales were just vignettes rather than full-fledged stories, with characters introduced and interacting, but nothing really resolved, as if waiting for a second volume and a sequel. Another is a rather dull version of "Rapuzel."

Saying that, there were some very enjoyable stories, including the Hawaiian-themed "Makana" and "Queen of the Mountain"; "Air of Mystery," which involves a parfumiere, and even a companion story to The Wizard of London. Unfortunately the blah stories overwhelmed the better ones, and the book even has a a recycled cover with illustrations pinched from previous novels. Shrug.

 Bless the Bride, Rhys Bowen
Well, that's more like it!

I found Molly Murphy's last outing, helping escape artist Harry Houdini and his wife Bess, a bit of a slog, but this next entry in the Murphy mysteries had me from beginning to end. It's almost time for Molly and Daniel's wedding, but the bride, staying at the Sullivan family home, is chafing under the criticism of her future mother-in-law and longing for a little more action than gossip and sewing. While visiting her friends in the city, she decides to take one more case, what looks like a relatively simple effort of finding a Chinese man's missing jade pendant. But, as she soon learns, what is really missing is the man's illegal bride.

But after finding out what kind of a man her employer is, if she finds the bride, does she want to tell her client? Worse, how will she keep Daniel from finding out that she has broken her promise to take no more detective cases when the police become involved in a crime in Chinatown?

This great combination of New York City history and mystery also includes lots of scenes involving Molly's flamboyant friends Sid and Gus, which are always fun. Note: If you read historical mysteries, you may notice that part of this story touches on the same territory as the Sarah Brandt mystery Murder in Chinatown, about Chinese men marrying Irish women since Chinese women were forbidden entry into the United States. However, the plots do not overlap. A treat.

 Lost in the City, Kathleen O'Dell
In this newest Julie mystery, the 1970s San Francisco girl is helping her best friend by caring for a pet parrot while the family is away. When the bird vanishes, Julie has a flock of suspects, including a cranky elderly man and a former classmate.

I'm really not the right person to review the Julie mysteries; I was a teen myself during the 70s and all the hippie stuff being "history" gives me the giggles, and, frankly, is as much of a bore as it was back then. A minor mystery involving Julie's aunt becoming a vegetarian is also a snooze, and anyone owned by a bird will be able to figure out the identity of the bird thief.

I noticed they only gave Marie-Grace a mystery this time and not Cécile, to give Caroline a book. I wish they'd left out Julie instead.

 Traitor in the Shipyard, Kathleen Ernst
The first Caroline mystery involves a dramatic situation going on at the Abbott shipyard: sabotage of a the construction of a new warship. Caroline is afraid that a friend of her father, a man who was held prisoner by the British at the same time as Mr. Abbott, now working at the shipyard, is the culprit. With help from her friend Rhonda, Caroline tries to ferret out the spy.

There are several good red herrings in this story, even if I suspected the person doing the spying after a while. As in one of the Felicity mysteries, the author tries not to make value judgments about people's loyalties, which certainly represents the population of the United States at the time of the War of 1812 better than a strictly jingoistic POV. The end is quite exciting; all in all a dandy mystery.

 Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Castaway Children, Kathryn Kenney
On a hot August night as a thunderstorm threatens, young Bobby Belden hears an odd noise in the yard and notices that the family dog is uneasy. The Beldens soon discover why: there's a baby hidden in the doghouse, and to Trixie and Honey's great dismay, it looks as if the child may have been abused. The teens soon discover the identity of the child, but it only deepens the mystery: where is the baby's older brother? Has he truly been kidnapped, as a ransom note suggests?

There's a good mystery in this one, with some baffling situations and clues, but everyone mooning over the baby gets a bit tiresome. I was also a little upset to discover that Bobby had once again been placed in rather menacing circumstances. You would think by now the Belden adults would have put their foot down about the girls solving mysteries if this sort of thing was going to keep happening.

 The Haunting of Maddy Clare. Simone St. James
Call it a ghost story with romantic interruptions.

In post-World War I England, Sarah Piper's employment opportunities are few and she is living hand-to-mouth on temporary jobs. One day her agency sends her to see Andrew Gellis, who needs her to substitute for his partner for a few days. Her task: attempt to communicate with a ghost! A terrified housemaid, once rescued from abuse, committed suicide in a barn and her spirit has haunted the structure ever since, growing more destructive and malevolent by the day. Andrew is desperate to capture some concrete sign of spirit activity to prove that his theories about ghosts are true. And so begins Sarah's ordeal as she helps Gellis and his partner Matthew Ryder not only prove the existence of the ghost, but to try to discover why the young woman hung herself. They soon discover that several townspeople know more than they are telling, including a former innamorata of Andrew's.

I'm not much for scary stories, so I was relieved that this had just the right amount of "creep" to it without being too gory. The 1920s atmosphere is very light; with only a few words one might change the time period and not change the story much, although the repercussions of the Great War do play a role in the story. The story does not presume that 1920s people were innocent of sexuality or profanity, so do be warned that both exist in the story. A few bits of non-period vocabulary did toss me out of the story occasionally, but I thought it built to a satisfactory climax with characters I liked, if one of the male characters was a bit Mills and Boon/Silhouette.

 Fire Works in the Hamptons, Celia Jerome
Ah, I think I get the drift finally: Willow is going to end up with a different hot guy in every book (although this time there's little action, just a lot of wanting).

In this outing, the strange man Willow hopes may be a date prospect (if he's not one of her cousin Susan's "strays") must take a back seat when the local fireworks turn out to contain odd "lightning bugs" that set things on fire, and Willow sees beautiful shapes within the fireworks that no one else sees. When a baby swallows one of the bugs, she begins breathing fire, and the townspeople assume this is again Willow's doing; that she has created some type of character for her comic book that has come alive. To help Willow cope with the "fire"flies and the fire-breathing baby, the Department of Unexplained Events sends Piet, a man whose presence keeps fires from starting. As the blazes increase and Willow's precognitive dad sends her garbled danger signals, our heroine must sort out what's going on, and her growing attraction to Piet.

Another fun entry in the Willow Tate, Visualizer, series, although I was annoyed and confused why the town got so furious at Willow when the fireflies appeared. It's not like she created them; they were only attracted to her because she was working on a fire creature for her comic book. And it's not like she did it deliberately! So much for support from her neighbors in Paumanok Harbor, who all have odd little talents. Piet is charming, especially with baby Elladaire, Dad Tate's strange messages are as funny as usual, and her tart grandmother just gets better. If you're looking for a fantasy series with a big of humor and a bit of romance, Willow Tate's adventures may be for you.

 Show Dog, Josh Dean
If you wait for Westminster each year with bated breath, this one is for you. Dean follows a year in the life of Jack, an Australian Shepherd who, although bought as a pet, becomes involved in the show circuit. Owner Kimberly Smith falls in love with a photo of Jack on his breeder's website, but the breeder knows Jack has show-ring potential, so she offers to sell Jack to Kimberly and offer financial assistance for handler fees and show fees if and only if Kimberly will allow Jack to be shown at bench shows. Kimberly agrees and so begins Jack's odyssey on the dog show circuit.

Dean's prose is light and understandable but instructive as he leads us behind the scenes at dog shows, threading in the history of breed shows as Jack progresses from puppy classes up the ladder quickly—too quickly, his breeder is afraid—to championship status, with a coveted appearance at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog show included. He lets us know what the judges are looking for when they physically examine the dog, how handlers juggle multiple dogs in the ring, the routine of the show circuit, about the friction between the American Kennel Club and the Australian Shepherd breeders due to a schism in the latter group, and all manner of other gossipy dog-show insider moments.

While Kimberly's wavering ambivalent attitude to Jack's career occasionally annoyed me (she knew the job was dangerous when she took it!), the rest of the book is a delight. Definitely for dog lovers!

 The Haunted Opera, Sarah Masters Buckey
Marie-Grace Gardner is excited to learn that a famous opera, The Crown Diamonds (reputed to be bad luck!), will be performed in New Orleans, and that her Aunt Océane will play an important role. Better yet, she finds out she and her good friend Cécile Ray will be able to help backstage. But the moment the English opera company arrives to start rehearsals, things start to go wrong. Costumes are sabotaged, and then Aunt Océane is accused of deliberately losing a critical prop. Is it one of the company? A friend of the girls' in the costume department? Or someone else?

I was right when I said they should have skipped the Julie mystery and given us someone else, like another Cécile story. This was a great behind-the-scenes look at an opera production, a popular entertainment in the 1854 setting of the story, and there were some good red herrings that pointed in the direction of several suspects (although one suspect was so obvious you were pretty sure it wasn't that person). In addition, another aspect of history is touched upon in the story that lends additional interest to a supporting character. If you can only afford two of the three new mysteries in this set, get Caroline and Marie-Grace.

Long Forgotten

Even if you're a book lover, there are books you are glad there are no need for any longer.

For instance, a very popular booklet was printed from the 1930s through the early 1960s that is, thankfully, only a curiosity now. It was published for African-American families who liked to go traveling, but who faced the continual problem of hotels, restaurants, and other businesses for "whites only."

Equally as sad is the fact that the publisher based this booklet on a similar publication that was available for Jewish travelers.

The Negro Motorist Green Book, 1949 edition, is available here in full text in PDF format.

Chasing the Elusive Verney

Every once in a while I still go looking for John Verney. Strange how a writer I loved so well and who was so popular just disappeared.

His obituary.

His photograph from the National Portrait Gallery.

A Telegraph article about Friday's Tunnel. (Ah, I'm not the only one who thinks his illos look like Edward Ardizzone's.)

A Christmas Card drawn by Verney.

A piece of art by Verney, "Toyland."

Books Finished Since January 1

 Eighty Days, Matthew Goodman
If this doesn't end up on my "Dozen Favorite Books Read in 2013" list at the end of the year, it will mean I have had some excellent reading in 2013!

Almost everyone has heard of Nellie Bly (Elizabeth Cochrane), the spunky, intrepid New York World reporter, who, after writing several startling exposé pieces, including one about the asylum for "insane" women on Blackwell's Island, is sent on a whirlwind trip to best the fictional Phileas Fogg of Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days. Bly didn't have time to post many reports, but the World promoted the story as today's "reality shows" are publicized, and even held a contest, promising a world tour to whomever came the closest to guessing the official time of her journey.

Not as well known was the around-the-world journey taken at the same time by Elizabeth Bisland, a quiet Southerner displaced after the Civil War. Bisland, who left just hours after Bly departed, but heading west instead of east, was sponsored by "Cosmopolitan" (yes, that one, a very different magazine in the 19th century).

I was captivated from the first paragraph to the last, in chapters that chronicle Bly's and Bisland's adventures by turns, using the women's diaries, their books published after the voyage, and other news stories, or stories about the same destinations, people, and institutions written by people who had visited them. I especially enjoyed the details about the cities they visited, the society they lived in, the publications and people they worked for, and all the myriad little facts that made 19th century society come alive. I could see the quiet streets of Japan so loved by Bisland, hear the uproar of the marketplaces as visited by both women, envision the meeting between Bly and Jules Verne (and got a good laugh out of Verne's real opinion of Bly, the one that didn't make publication!). I could almost walk into the 19th century world described, especially then-exotic ports of call in India, Japan, and China, not to mention pre-earthquake San Francisco and the blizzard-shrouded Western frontier. Bly and Bisland are vividly portrayed with all their strengths and weaknesses, and the epilogue briefly addresses what happened after their voyages. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves history!    

 Speaking from Among the Bones, Alan Bradley
It's the 500th anniversary of the death of St. Tancred, the patron saint of the church at Bishop's Lacey, and in honor of the occasion, archaeologists are opening the crypt where the saint is interred. Headed to the church organ loft to gather a specimen of bat's blood (don't ask!), budding young chemist Flavia DeLuce of course must check out the proceedings. To the vicar's horror, Flavia is there when the stone is shifted and a body is exposed.

Except that it is not the bones of St. Tancred that appear, but the fresher body of Mr. Collicutt, the church organist who so abruptly disappeared. Not only that, but he's wearing a gas mask. In short order Flavia's discovered a secret tunnel leading from a open grave, yet the book has barely gotten started!

This is a great entry in the Flavia series, mixing old favorite characters with new, including a charming young man named Adam who helps Flavia with her sleuthing. In addition, there's some family surprises—Flavia actually getting along with her sisters? can it be true?—including a whopper at the end that will leave you open-mouthed.

 Charles Dickens and the Great Theatre of the World, Simon Callow
A biography of Dickens with a different slant. Actor Callow, who has not only played Dickensian roles over the years, but who has played the writer himself in a stage show as well as in an episode of Doctor Who, looks at Dickens from the POV of his great joy in performing, whether it be doing parlour magic tricks for his children or readings in great halls for the hundreds of people who flocked to see him perform or even acting out scenes from his books in the privacy of his home before committing them to paper. Dickens' exuberance for the acting profession, an early ambition, shines clearly in Callow's peppy text.

This is not an exhaustive biography of Charles Dickens by any means, but is not meant to be. For those with only a casual knowledge of the writer, or who remember him only as "that boring guy from required reading," this is a good introduction to a man who was as wildly popular in his day as a big-name actor or sports figure is today. (Dickens' behavior to his wife can certainly be parallelled to today's celebrities; eventually the poor woman is banished to a different house while her husband cavorts with young actress Ellen Ternan.) Callow's style is breezy and enjoyable.

 Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Book 3, Eric Wiggin
I became friends with Rebecca Rowena Randall at an early age, admiring her grit, her creativity, and her blossoming from feckless young girl to poised young woman, rejoicing in her successes and commiserating in her defeats. I was delighted later to find another book of her adventures that added more childhood events and even stories about her friends.

Eric Wiggin isn't related to Kate Douglas Wiggin, although some of his biographies have stated so. He took two classics, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and New Chronicles of Rebecca, simplified all of Kate Wiggin's lovely poetic Edwardian language, and blended them into one narrative spanning two books, then produced this novel, a sequel to both, layering on a thick smear of overt Christianity to what was already a Christian-themed book. Not only does this heavy-handed moralizing reduce poor Rebecca to boring adulthood, but he basically goes through and gives anyone from the country (like Rebecca's mother) cheap rural accents. Kate Wiggin says John Randall went to medical school; in this John stays around to do farm chores. Where Eric Wiggin might have brought to life Rebecca's siblings Mark, Fanny, and Jenny, they are reduced to the background, while we listen to Adam Ladd repeat what improvements the railroad will make to Sunnybrook and the surrounding countryside ad infinitum. (Just how many times can you comment at the difference a standard-gauge railway instead of a narrow-gauge one will make?) (I also noticed Mr. Wiggin lowers "Mr. Aladdin's" age so hopefully people will forget Rebecca's being courted by a man twenty years older than she is.) Oh, and Harriet Beecher Stowe makes an appearance, despite the fact that Rebecca was written in 1904 and in this book everyone is getting a telephone, and Stowe died in 1896.

Another major change I noticed was the way Rebecca's father was portrayed. As a child she always loved him because he sang songs, played the violin, and danced, and her mother did all the boring things like housework and sewing and was never any "fun." She realizes only after she is older that it was her mother who kept them all from starving, sacrificing her looks and her strength so that her husband's clothes were always sharp-looking. Aurelia would do chores so Lorenzo's hands might not be hurt and he could still play instruments. And then he has the nerve to criticize her appearance! Mr. Wiggin turns the feckless Lorenzo into a father who makes wooden toys for his children and works hard, completely contrary to Mrs. Wiggins' original text!

Add to the fact that Mr. Wiggin kills off a regular character and then spends his time indiscriminately matching up adult characters in holy wedlock...well, the book ends up being a disservice to Kate Wiggin, but most of all to the wonderful spirit of Rebecca Randall. Phooey.

 Leaving Everything Most Loved, Jacqueline Winspear
This tenth novel involving Maisie Dobbs, psychologist and private investigator, finds her at a cusp in her life. She's in love with James Compton and wishes to marry him, yet she feels that she has not yet achieved all she wants for her own life. She feels the urge to travel and learn something of other societies before committing herself to the responsibility of marriage. So she goes into her newest case conflicted and discovers her own situation mirrored in the murder victim, a young Indian woman who has been boarding with former missionaries, hoarding enough money to go home and start a school for girls. For reasons known only to the murderer, this seemingly lovely and inoffensive woman was shot.

Maisie's personal dilemma provides counterpoint to the story of the murder victim, who Maisie discovers, was not a traditionalist, something which may have angered her fellow Indian compatriots. Winspear also uses the story to portray the prejudiced way these members of the Empire were treated (even their officers who helped fight in the Great War and who received medals are not considered on the same level as their British counterparts). Then, too, changes are overtaking Maisie's co-workers,  Billy Beale and Sandra Tapley, and even her father.

Winspear could have left Maisie a static character who forever solved World War I-related cases (and I'm certain those stories would have been interesting), but instead she stays true to Maisie's continual thirst for knowledge and enlightenment. This reads almost like a final book, with everything tucked away, but enough hope is given in the concluding chapter that the old days of Maisie's investigations are not yet finished. I, for one, hope not!

 Heidi's Alp, Christina Hardyment
One of the most delightful books about children's books ever. Hardyment and her four daughters, first accompanied by a friend and her baby, and then by her husband, set off from their home in England in an aging camper van nicknamed "Bertha" to discover the Europe of children's books: from Denmark and the sites of Hans Christian Andersen (and Lego bricks), through Switzerland (where they discover their very own Alm Uncle in "Heidi country"), Germany, Italy, and France. It's part travelogue, part family story, and always referencing children's books, starting with the world of Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates as the family crosses the English Channel into the Netherlands. Along the way they try to discover the real history behind the legend of the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike, the disappearance of the children of Hamelin (was it really due to the Children's Crusade as so often theorized?), and the truth behind William Tell.

As far as I'm concerned this was a dream of a trip and a wonderful tale told in appealing, descriptive narrative. I envy the Hardyment girls their adventure and wish I'd been along for the ride.

[I didn't realize until after I'd finished the book that I'd read another of Hardyment's books many years ago, Dream Babies, about how babies were portrayed in child-rearing manuals through the years. Another cool book.]

 Trixie Belden and the Mystery Off Old Telegraph Road, Kathryn Kenney
This next Trixie Belden mystery has a slight plot that only begins halfway through the book: the kids have decided to arrange a bikeathon to raise money for the Sleepyside Junior/Senior High School art department, and once the reader gets two vital clues (an item Trixie finds and an occupation revealed), the crime du jour should be pretty obvious. Instead, the amazing highlight of this story is that Trixie and Honey have a fight! and that Mart is the one who counsels Trixie about it! Wonders will never cease. Not to mention a re-use of an old plotline appears: this time it's Honey's cousin Ben who's been sent to Sleepyside to keep him out of gangs. Favorite learning moment: silk-screening is completely explained, and we get a lecture about how expensive art supplies are. My question: a brand new character, a classmate, is referred to occasionally by his whole name, but more often by his first name. Why is Honey's cousin Ben, whom we've met in a previous book, always referred to as "Ben Riker"? Almost every single time. Can't they remember who he is?

 Ghost Story, Jim Butcher
(spoilers ahoy!)
When we last left Harry Dresden, he was dead and plunging into cold water.

Since this series of books is about Harry, you might surmise Changes was the final novel in the saga of Harry Dresden, Chicago's only practicing wizard. But readers of the series who know Harry also know it's hard to keep a good wizard down. And sure enough, Harry is enlisted, in ghostly form, to find his own murderer. Trouble is, he's not corporeal any longer, so how does he do what used to be simple things, like really simple things, as in communicate with people so he can get the information he needs?

In the six-month interval since his death, Chicago has come under attack by otherworldly beings (yeah, I know; this is a Dresden book: so what else is new?) released by Harry's actions in the previous novel, Harry's friends are holding them at bay, and his apprentice has been so emotionally scarred by her role in helping rescue Harry's daughter that she has become unstable. But the greatest change is with Harry himself, who must face the consequences of his actions in the previous book and also learn to resolve the conflict without his powerful magic, trusting old friends and new allies to help him.

Again, another nonstop narrative, with some old friends turning up, including Harry's former detective agency partner Nick Christian (from Butcher's very first Dresden story). I basically sat down and inhaled the book in a couple of sittings.

 The Case of the Murdered Muckraker, Carola Dunn
The Daisy Dalrymple books are so good-natured  that I didn't think I'd ever dislike one of them, but I really didn't enjoy this Daisy adventure. Really, I read these books for their English setting, and the last thing I want to read is Daisy in the States. But here, in her tenth escapade, she is.

Even in the United States, Daisy can't seem to escape murder cases. While she stays at a hotel in New York City while her new husband Alec Fletcher works in Washington, DC, a muckraking journalist is killed. To find out "whodunnit" Daisy must navigate witnesses and lawmen with absurd American accents (apparently no one speaks correct English in the US in the Daisy universe except for woman journalists and their spinster sisters). Later in the book Daisy has an extended "kiss with history," as Quantum Leap once referred to it, with African-American aviatrix Bessie Coleman in a drawn-out chase scene that turns into a real snoozer.

Daisy and Alec deserved better. Certainly Coleman did!

 Oz Reimagined, edited by John Joseph Adams and Douglas Cohen
A caveat about this one: don't just recall the Technicolor confection of The Wizard of Oz and the simple childishness of the books. These are stories written for adults and several of them touch on adult themes. In general these are not short stories for children.

Disposing with that warning, I can't say I am an Oz fanatic. I've read the classic novel and at least one of the sequels, watched the MGM film and Disney's darker sequel, seen an Oz cartoon or two, peeked into Oz via Heinlein, but never have been tempted to dip into the rest of the novels or  the Macguire books. But I quite enjoyed this collection, which ranged from stories in the Oz tradition ("The Great Zeppelin Heist of Oz" and, what was my favorite story, "The Cobbler of Oz" about a gentle Winged Monkey child and the cobbler who hopes to make her dreams come true) to a hardboiled version as portrayed in "Emeralds to Emeralds, Dust to Dust." There is also Oz as a video game simulation, or as a tilted world as seen by psychiatric inmates, or as a setup for a reality series; as a training ground for early-20th century suffragettes and even a story of a Chinese Dorothy whose adventures parallel an actual historical event, and another in which the inspiration for Baum's first novel come from the adventures of his eldest son and his slightly eccentric classmate. Not all the tales revolve around Dorothy, either, as evidenced by a bitter story about the lives and fate of "little people" who keep the Emerald City so gleamingly clean.

If you are open-minded enough to approach Oz in tales that are skewed differently from Baum's imaginings, you will find much to enjoy in this collection.

 A Nation Rising, Kenneth C. Davis
I picked this up after reading Davis' Hidden History and enjoying it. Again, he addresses historical facts that are little-taught today in schools. You might call this volume "white Anglo-Saxon Americans hate everyone"; unfortunately this statement is well-supported by Davis' historical chapters about Andrew Jackson's war against the native American tribes, even the "five civilized tribes" who had settled down into farming like their white neighbors; the Protestant populations who at the least bad-mouthed and who, in more extreme cases, burned out Catholic neighborhoods; and above all the prejudice held against both slaves and free persons of color (and against the native tribes that supported them), with terrible revenge taken against slave rebellions. Even the chapter about Jessie Frémont reveals abuses against the natives of California by the Spanish soldiers and religious figures.

This is an easy read for folks who are interested in the history of the United States between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War, an era, except for "high points" like the War of 1812, the Mexican War, and the Gold Rush, that history teachers seem to gloss over. It should be used as a springboard to read more about each era and issue.

(One also may wish Davis would keep modern politics out of his historical discussions. Equating "tea baggers" with bigots who attack Catholics seems a bit much.)

Bryant and May Christmas Short Story

Can be read here.

Better reading if you're familiar with the series. :-)