Books Completed Since August 1

 Talk About America, Alistair Cooke
Before Alistair Cooke passed, during his elder journalist years between his series America and during Masterpiece Theatre, he had several books published that examined mostly serious subjects (Six Men, The Americans, World War II-era America, etc.) that talked about significant events in the American scene. All of these books were taken from his weekly report on the BBC, "Letter from America." Earlier this year I wrote about finding a collection of earlier essays in One Man's America.

This is yet another volume of selections from "Letters from America," and once again there are some significant historical pieces, most prominently Cooke's witnessing the assassination of Robert Kennedy at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. He also has a trilogy of essays about being black in the US in the 1950s and 1960s, a profile of Lyndon Johnson, an account of John Glenn's flight, a visit to a submarine, the story of General George Marshall, and more. But I found the most interesting essays were the ones about little things: an account of a good old fashioned town meeting in a small town in New Hampshire, where the locals debate next year's budget and whether to repair or tear down a bridge; about a now almost defunct act: the closing down of your city home or apartment for the summer while you went somewhere cooler in those pre-air conditioning days; about another institution now gone: the iceman; about the history of Thanksgiving and cranberry obsession; an amusing few pages on American dress; attending the Kentucky Derby and visiting Alcatraz; etc.

Once again, I discovered some pieces here that were later mined for his classic America series: "The Father," about George Washington; "HLM: RIP," about H.L. Mencken. For a second time enjoyed the variety of subjects and Cooke's occasional sharp line of humor. Well worth hunting up to see a former Brit's eye view of his adopted country.

 Death Without Company, Craig Johnson
In this second of the Walt Longmire books, Walt is summoned to the Durant Home for Assisted Living, where his mentor Lucian Connally is now living. A woman of Basque descent, Mari Baroja, has died and Lucian claims there was foul play. He also tells Longmire something astounding: Mari was his wife, for all of a few days, until her brothers caught up with him, beating him up and taking Mari away with them, to be married off to someone more suitable. Walt at first starts investigating to humor his old boss, but slowly starts coming up with troubling stuff, like Mari's terrible marriage to Charlie Nurburn, who regularly abused her, and to a flourishing methane mining concern on land that was once Mari's, land her daughters will inherit.

I'm usually a cozy mystery fan except for odd things like Sherlock Holmes, and wasn't sure I would like a more gritty mystery series. But I like this one: Walt Longmire is a "regular guy" with real faults, but an appealing personality and a need to see justice done. He has blood family in his daughter Cady, a close friendship with Henry Standing Bear (a finally realistic Native American character), and a law enforcement family with his co-workers: Ruby the dispatcher, "the Ferg" a part time deputy, his second-in-command Victoria Moretti (originally of New York), and newest officer Santiago Saizarbitoria, who comports himself well in this mystery. Walt also meets a promising woman who's in town to investigate abandoned safe deposit boxes, but everything, as always in Longmire land, takes second place to his job.

Walt will face a maze of family secrets, marital tragedy, and reservation secrets before he discovers all the truths Mari Baroja's death will reveal. As always, a delight to read.

 Shake Well Before Using, edited by Bennett Cerf
I've been hooked on these collections of humorous anecdotes since my mother bought me a copy of Laugh Day in the late 1960s. I read that book until pages started to fall out of it. Lots of puns, a Cerf favorite, most of the stories are still funny (there are some longer pieces in this book instead of just short quick jokes), but some would be considered very incorrect today, especially some "battle of the sexes" anecdotes. Also, the names of celebrities instantly known in 1948 are more obscure today. You can use the book as a history lesson as well!

  A Casualty of War, Charles Todd
In the latest Bess Crawford mystery, the Great War is almost finished. Bess, a nurse at the front lines, is having a brief respite of rest when she chats with a Captain Alan Travis. Back at the front, she meets Captain Travis again; a bullet has narrowly missed his head and he claims the shot was deliberate, by a man in his ranks. Recovered and sent back to the front, he returns to Bess' station once more, this time shot in the back, and again he claims this was deliberate.

Bess loses track of the man after the Armistice is declared, but on her leave tracks him down and is dismayed to find him in a mental hospital, being driven mad by cheerless walls. The higher-ups have determined he has brain damage, especially since he has been insisting that not only was he shot at deliberately twice, but that the shots were fired by a man that looked like his cousin, who he met for the first time at the front. Horrified by the way he's being treated, Bess is determined to track down what is going on and travels to the cousin's hometown, finding out that the man's reputation is without reproach, but his mother resents the thought of Alan Travis, the scion of the family black sheep, taking over the estate. Bess still thinks Alan Travis is on the level, and Simon helps her track down what's going on.

There's a fairly complicated plot going, and poor Alan Travis, harried at all sides by convention and bureaucracy, is a sympathetic victim, but could he be pulling the wool over everyone's eyes, including Bess? There is at least one character in the story whom you will suspect immediately. Also, the Armistice has now been signed. Will there be more adventures for Bess? And will something ever come of the relationship between Bess and Simon, or is she wrong that they are only platonic friends? Stay tuned...

 The Planets, Dorling-Kindersley and Smithsonian
In a fit of nostalgia, I had remembered the coloring book/activity book my mom had bought for me so long ago about the planets. I had this book for years, even after I'd colored in all the pictures and done all the activities. So I went hunting at the library for a book on the solar system and found this, a big coffee-table book with correspondingly large color photos and diagrams about each of the planets as was known when the book was published (after Pluto got demoted). Recent flybys by space exploration vehicles have netted some gorgeous photographs of Mars and even Pluto, and artists' extrapolations of the different surfaces of planets and asteroids give it a wow factor. Included are all the scientific facts and figures. I was fascinated by the section on the asteroids, as only a few were mentioned in my coloring book. People may be surprised that they are not all spherical in shape. At least one looks like a dumbbell.

 Journey to the Ice Age: Mammoths and Other Animals of the Wild Hardcover, Rien Poortvliet
I was only planning to get the planet book from the library, but I saw this in passing and was fascinated by it. Poortvliet is a Dutch artist who is most famous for his whimsical art book about garden gnomes, but he has done several volumes of nature and animal art. This is a gorgeous art book in which Poortvliet begins with his own observations of the countryside around him, then goes back to the medieval era, where he describes the lifestyles of the wealthy and the poor. The final last third of the book makes a fantastic leap back to the stone age and drawings of mammoth, dire wolves, wild horses, and other fauna, and also early man.

This is an unspeakably gorgeous volume if you love drawings of nature and wildlife. Each oversize page is filled with gorgeous artwork of wolves, elk (what we call moose), red and roe deer, dogs, game birds, falcons, and other animals, and woods, farms, homey farmsteads, beautiful medieval lords and ladies, humbler working people, farm animals, etc. His narrative that goes with these pieces of art are beautifully calligraphed on the pages (not by himself).

If you love art or nature or want to peek into medieval life and prehistoric life through the eyes of an artist, this is a beautiful, breathtaking book. Every page is a treasure.

 When the Stars Went to War: Hollywood and World War II, Roy Hoopes
A lively, if gossipy, book about the roles of actors and actresses played during World War II, starting in 1937 and a brief mention of the Spanish Civil War, and seguing into 1939 and the Golden Year of Hollywood film. "The war came earlier to Hollywood than it did to most of the country," the author states, due to the sizeable British colony in the movie capitol. When the war broke out many of the Englishmen went home; others remained in Hollywood and made films praising the efforts of the French, British, and Belgians. Once the attack on Pearl Harbor was accomplished, Hollywood became fully mobilized. Walt Disney's studio, indeed, was taken over by the military. Some actors rushed to join the service, others were refused, including John Wayne, who won battles only in his films.

The book follows all aspects of the Hollywood contributions to the war: films that supported the war effort and made heroes of the common men serving in the Army, Navy, and Marines; the USO tours where performers lived rough and under the threat of bombs and battle; the famous Hollywood Canteen started by Bette Davis, which supplied food and fun to servicemen on leave; and the actors who went to war like Clark Gable, James Stewart, Wayne Morris, and more. Hoopes also talks about some individual stars: the rumors (which he pooh-poohs) about Errol Flynn being a Nazi or a spy,;the offhand attitude of George Sanders, who had been an admirer of Hitler; and Lew Ayres, a vegetarian and conscientious objector who lost and then refound his audience despite refusing to serve in the Army (he became a medic and was decorated for his service).

There's also a lot of who's-sleeping-with-who included in the book, and how some actors looked forward to going on War Bond and USO tours so they could canoodle with the young actresses they accompanied, but mostly it's an interesting chronicle of how Hollywood performers raised morale, funds, and sympathies during the Second World War.

 Wild Hares & Hummingbirds: The Natural History of an English Village, Stephen Moss
This is Moss' leisurely examination of a year in the life of the animals, birds, insects, and plants in his small village of Mark in southwestern England. Through his eyes we see the changing seasons, the migration of the birds, the hedge and pasture life of badgers and foxes and rabbits, and the effect of a changing climate and changing land use on different species—birds once common in England, like the cuckoo, are hardly heard there any longer, while newer bird species used to warmer climates are appearing.

This is a nice book to read at bedtime, where Moss' tales of the tranquil countryside soothe. He is not a poetic writer, but the landscapes and animals are lovingly described. Each chapter, which covers a month, is illustrated by an evocative woodcut, which lends charm to the narrative.

The odd thing is that although Moss cites hares and hummingbirds in his title, there is very little written about either. Swifts, swallows, and house martins seem to be a favorite. Moss even goes mushroom hunting. A pleasant read if you want to relax with nature.

 Spring Harvest, Gladys Taber
This is my first taste of Taber's fiction, and, while it's chick-lit, I mostly enjoyed it because of her characters. Julie Prescott is a teen in love for the first time with college football player Mike in the small Wisconsin college town of Westerly in 1914, but she runs afoul of her eccentric geology professor father Alden, who still thinks of her as a little girl, while her capable mother Sybil keeps everything on an even keel. (If you've read Taber's memoir about her father, it's so very clear Alden is based on her dad.) Meanwhile the president of the University, married to Carol, a cold social-climber wife who hates the small town and even her children, finds happiness in talking to the sympathetic Dean; Dr. Jim Parker, the dedicated GP, races from medical emergency to house call while his sad and embittered wife stews at home;  the music professor who's found the best student in a lifetime has his dreams wiped out when she becomes pregnant; and the faithful accompanist is wondering where her next meal will come from (and how she'll take care of an invalid sister) if she is forced to retire. And before them all lies the high point in Westerly's year, Commencement.

You follow Julie in the throes of young love, Alden trying to understand his growing daughter, Mike attempting to escape the grasping aunt and uncle who raised him, Carol planning to escape her mundane life, Miss Nelson's problems with money, Dr. Jim's patience when his wife is injured, the Dean taking up the slack when a crisis hits the President's household, and through all the crises, Sybil knowing wisely what to do. It's a gentler time, where the doctor has finally traded in his horse for a car, kids stopped by the soda fountain to meet, girls sat in their daddy's laps and hornswoggled them with tears, and not a specter of sex in sight, although Mike is a gentleman and stops in one situation that might have gone too far. The worst thing that happens in Westerly is that a girl commits suicide after being blackballed by a sorority, and while it makes Julie pause, it doesn't set her on a crusade to do good as it might in a book today. There are some hard times for several people, but except for the deceased girl, things work out. A nice window into the past.

 Time of Fog and Fire, Rhys Bowen
Daniel Sullivan's law enforcement career is in more danger than before: his superiors dislike him and there is still a suspicion that he got a fellow officer killed. So he takes a job from U.S. secret service operative John Wilkie, while his wife, former detective Molly Murphy, stays home with their toddler son and young ward Bridie, and goes off to Washington, DC. Or so Molly thinks: after she befriends a woman who is a widow in all but name to a perpetually traveling businessman and attends one of the newfangled silent films with her new friend, she sees Daniel in a newsreel that was filmed in San Francisco. Soon after, she gets a rather insulting letter from him that incenses her at first, until she sees the secret message hidden within. Soon Molly and Liam are on their way to San Francisco.

Do I give you a clue to part of the plot of this novel if I tell you it's 1906?

Molly runs the complete gamut of trauma in this adventure: a mysterious note from an uncommunicative husband, a startling revelation when she finally arrives in the bustling city, a friendship with a notorious woman that leads to some unsavory situations, the disappearance of Liam, an injury that nearly incapacitates her, and of course the infamous historical incident that colors the second half of the novel. She leaps breathlessly from unexpected rail trip to first encounters with the Chinese to the discovery of a secret in the basement to a murder scene at Point Lobos. A page-turner, but some of the actions seem a bit improbable, even for Molly. With welcome cameos by Sid and Gus, and some happy news at the end.

 American Mirror: The Life and Art of Norman Rockwell, Deborah Solomon
This is a thick volume which follows Rockwell's life and the growth and progression of his artwork. My first impression of the book is that Rockwell led kind of a sad life. Subsequent chapters, all the way through the end, seemed to perpetuate this feeling. Rockwell's mother was apparently a self-absorbed hypochondriac and his athletic older brother Jarvis overwhelmed shy, skinny Norman. His first two marriages left both wives frustrated as apparently Rockwell was incapable of sustaining a romantic or even affectionate relationship with them, and would often go off for months at a time creating art (and occasionally fishing) with male compatriots. His first wife just gave up, the second developed an alcohol dependency and her psychiatric sessions so absorbed Rockwell that he finally got his own and became close friends with his shrink. (His third wife, Molly, apparently demanded little intimacy from Norman and was content to help him with his business dealings.) Along the way Solomon describes Rockwell's best known paintings and illustrations, and the details that came together in them, starting with their inspirations.

She also spends some time trying to "figure him out" and pretty much all but says she thought he was actually homosexual at a time when it wasn't expected. On the other hand, he didn't seem crazy about sex of any kind; what he was was a clean freak. Almost half of his painting sessions comprised cleaning his studio or his brushes. After a while, this detective work really gets nowhere; she could have mentioned it once or twice and be done with it. She does assure us that Rockwell, the consummate artist of active and mischievous boys, never molested his models.

So, as I said, I came out of this still appreciating his art, but feeling rather melancholy about his mental state. Much of his life seemed a bit sad, and, like Tasha Tudor, he didn't really realize how much people appreciated  him as an artist until someone did an exhibition for him. (Apparently he longed to get into modern art, and thank goodness he didn't.)

Some people were annoyed at this book because it did not go into the research and method of Rockwell's art as much as they wished. Apparently this was mostly Rockwell's fault; Solomon talks about interview after interview of him in which specific questions about specific paintings went unanswered, with the painter either going off on a tangent or being very brief.

If you can stand all the psychological introspection, this can be an enjoyable book. But melancholy.

 The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Mark Twain
Since I had re-read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn last month, I thought I would pull the preceding story out. Tom has never been that much of a favorite with me, since I'm so taken with the revelations—and, I admit, the humor—in Finn. I tried reading it as more of a prequel this time and came out enjoying it much better.

If you've been living in a television-induced coma forever, the titular Tom is a mischievous small boy—his age seems to range between nine and twelve—and his free-range childhood in 1830s Missouri. He and his half brother are being raised by an aunt, and he's the plague of her life though she loves him: he plays hooky from school, gets in fights, consorts with the town bad boy (Huck Finn), skips church, and generally acts like a small boy. In the course of the book, he falls in love with the winsome Becky Thatcher, traipses off to a graveyard with a dead cat to get rid of warts and witnesses a murder, appears as a witness in the murder trial, runs away to an island with three other boys, and gets lost in a cave—and those are just part of his adventures.

Besides Tom's adventures, Twain uses the text (as he does in Finn) to skewer early 19th century society, which leads to humorous situations in church—feckless Tom claiming to have memorized enough Bible verses to claim a Bible and an incident with a dog—and a graduation day at school that's an endless series of banal schoolgirl compositions. It's mixed with tense moments and danger in a classic book still worth reading.

Huckleberry Finn is still better, though. 😀

 The Best American Travel Writing 2003, edited by Ian Frazier
Book sales are great for picking up these annual volumes (also for science and nature, essays, mysteries, short stories, sports, and mysteries), although this one was a bit daunting in the first half, as it seems so many of the essays seemed to concern sad voyages through Middle-Eastern countries after 9/11. On the other hand, there is a good variety of travel essays here, from the charms of the Polish stomping grounds of Pope John Paul II to a search for real Cuban coffee in a Cuba filled with welcoming people who are too poor to afford it to essays about fighting poachers to a not-so-breezy ride down Route  66 to a Jewish man who traces what happened to the uncle who stayed in Europe when the Nazis came. You visit the Arctic and Afghanistan, the Salton Sea and slavery in Africa, squid jigging in Washington State and a trip to a nuclear power plant in Japan, credit card companies in Delaware and the west Texas town where Ambrose Bierce vanished, and find you are not yet done with your journeys.

I even enjoyed the sad stories about the Middle East, but I couldn't figure for the life of me what the article about Puff Daddy going to Paris had to do with travel or why it was included in this volume. It's more a portrait of the rap star, and his conspicuous consumption, which I found a little off-putting.

 The Clincher, Lisa Preston
I have been looking for a mystery series that was likeable without getting into thrillers or police procedurals, and didn't feature a whitebread attractive woman operating in a small town with quaint shops. This one may fill the bill. Rainy Dale is a professional farrier (horseshoer) whose early life was a mess, with a narcissist wannabe actress for a mother and a hardline conservative Texan for a father. After a series of youthful traumas which are gradually brought to light in the story, Rainy turned herself around, got her farrier's license, and settled in rural Oregon where she tracked down the horse her father gave her as a child, the one thing she has always loved. On the way she has picked up a discarded dog named Charley and acquired a landlord named Guy, who's also breaking convention by becoming a cook instead of following the path his parents wanted him to follow and who wants to be something more than Rainy's landlord. Things come to a head when, soon after Rainy does a shoeing job for trophy wife Patsy-Lynn Harper, the woman is found dead, and Rainy finds herself the prime suspect. At first Rainy just cares that she's cleared, but she genuinely liked Patsy-Lynn and really wants to find out who killed her.

At first Rainy was a little too abrasive for me, but as the story "peeled away her layers," so to speak, I understood her pain. She's smart-mouthed, unconventional, opinionated, and definitely not "whitebread." The story is full of little bits of knowledge about horses and shoeing, the rural setting and the characters seemed real, and Rainy's conversations with Guy have a humorous turn that I enjoyed. Guy is also a neat character who does not bow to convention. The descriptions of horses, the countryside, and the rural life have the ring of truth in them rather than something the author just looked up, which follows as the author writes nonfiction about training dogs and horses, and lives in a rural environment. If you're looking for a slightly grittier mystery than you might find in a traditional cozy with lots of horse talk, this is the book for you! I am looking forward to the next book.

 Dim Sum of All Fears, Vivien Chien
This is the second of Chien's "Noodle House" restaurant featuring young Lana Lee, whose Taiwanese mother and American father run Ho-Lee's House of Noodles in Cleveland's Asia Village shopping center. When her parents go to Taiwan to help out her grandmother, Lana, not her older sister Anna May, who is studying for the bar, is left in charge of the restaurant, to her dismay: she was planning to interview for a job away from the restaurant. She's just gotten over the disappointment of having to turn down the interview when she and another tenant discover the bodies of Isabelle and Brandon Yeoh, of the souvenir shop next door, dead in their storeroom. Adam Trudeau, Lana's "maybe-boyfriend" and police officer, tells her not to get involved as she did in the previous mystery, but Isabelle was a new and dear friend and Lana wants to get to the bottom of who ended her life—and what was going on with her husband, who always seemed to disappear at the most inconvenient times.

Once again Lana and her intrepid best friend Megan Riley try to get to the bottom of things, and it's more bizarre than they could have imagined: like Brandon turning up with not one ex-wife, but two, plus a sister-in-law he was really in love with. And there's a dude who reminds Lana of Captain Kirk (the Shatner version) who seems to pal with Brandon a lot. Plus Brandon and Isabelle live in a fabulous designer apartment, yet can't make their business bills.

I think once you find out a fact about a certain character, you should realize whodunnit, but watching Lana juggle the restaurant, her parents, her sister, a very disapproving Adam (who actually is concerned about her investigating), free time, and on top of all that, a frigid winter, is entertaining. I really do like Lana, although like in all cozies she takes chances like people really shouldn't. But then isn't that's why we enjoy them, to live vicariously through the characters?

 A Small Country Living Goes On, Jeanine McMullen
It wasn't so long ago that I picked up My Small Country Living on the way out of the book sale, started to read, and fell in love. This summer I ordered The Wind in the Ash Tree, and now with this third book I have finished McMullen's appealing trilogy about living on a Welsh smallholding and producing a radio show about country living. Indeed, the bulk of this final volume is about Jeanine's adventures in going from farmstead to farmstead and county to county—and country—looking for stories, spending some time in Ireland (still dangerous in that era of "the Troubles") finding fairy cairns, Greyhound Pigs, Moiled Cattle, and, as always, unpredictable goats.

McMullen's own goats also work into the plot, as does her big mare Doli, who finally meets the "man" of her dreams, and even her dogs provide adventure. She makes new friends in Ireland and Wales, experiences equipment failure and train waits, and tries out novelty walking sticks. There are wars against rats, a surprise with the chimney, a country Christmas, and encounters with the neighbors, but the most affecting portions of the narrative is when Jeanine's mother, the redoubtable Mrs. P, begins to suffer from illness, including an unexpected loss of memory and then weakness caused by living in such a damp climate. It's indeed an eventful year and a memorable end to McMullen's memoirs. I shall miss her very much.

Books Completed Since July 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Hark the Herald Angels Slay, Vicki Delaney

 The Twelve Slays of Christmas, Jacqueline Frost

  'Twas the Knife Before Christmas, Jacqueline Frost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Books Completed Since June 1

 The Making of Home, Judith Flanders
I loved Flanders' The Victorian Home and The Victorian City, so it was a cinch I would pick up this volume. I was not disappointed.

In this volume, Flanders chronicles what changed to make the old-fashioned medieval hall, where everyone slept together (the king and the queen perhaps on a dias separated perhaps by a curtain) turn into the home with specialized rooms as we use it today, and a fallacy that we have about old homes which have been remodeled over the centuries, thinking that they looked the same 500 years in the past. (One example is that of the hallway with doors opening off onto rooms; this home feature really only goes back a couple of centuries. Previously rooms led one into the other, so that on your way to your bedroom you might walk through public living areas, your sister's bedroom, your parents' bedroom, etc. The "shotgun house" is an example of this.) One of the most fascinating parts of this book is how she talks about paintings by Dutch and English masters which portray "homes that never were," idealized portraits of well-to-do people showing them with furniture and furnishings that they actually did not have (not to mention views out the window that did not exist). There's also the concept of "invisible furniture"—for instance, in most cases in the past people spit all the time (a popular habit which was only quelled by posters everywhere when they figured out that tuberculosis was carried in spit), and most rooms had spittoons in them. But you do not see them in paintings because they were not considered something you'd want other people to see; you just wanted them to see the pretty windows or curtains you had. Curtains were another thing: they show up in paintings long before they were actually common on the windows of homes. Before that they had lattice screens to let in air and uncurtained windows to let in the light.

As reviews have pointed out; this is very Eurocentric but also includes the US and Canada. You would need to look elsewhere to find the history of Asian, African, or South American homes. Otherwise a fascinating survey of how we did live versus how we now live.

 A Colonial Williamsburg Love Affair, Debra Bailey
This short but delightful book is Bailey's love letter to Colonial Williamsburg. A self-professed history geek and science fan, Bailey has been going to "CW," as she calls it throughout the book, since she was a small child, vividly recalling in the first chapter the day in 1965 she, aged ten, and her older sister were left alone to explore the colonial area while her parents were at the pottery shop. (Yes, back in the 60s it was perfectly safe to do this if your kids followed the rules and knew to run for help if accosted by strangers—do I envy her!)

In subsequent chapters she talks about different trips, some with her family (one year they stayed at one of the Williamsburg houses) and later with her husband. As she got older, she enjoyed doing things she would have eschewed as a child: going to the art galleries, or taking time out to relax at a spa. She takes us from the Governor's Palace to the House of Burgesses to the different restaurants and into the various homes and shops, and, in one chapter, talks about how the methods of restoring the buildings and cataloging the artifacts have changed from the 1930s to modern times (in the 1930s they were strictly interested in restoring the businesses and threw the artifacts away!).

I'm not sure if anyone else but those interested in historical recreations, colonial history, or specifically Colonial Williamsburg itself would really be a fan of this book, but if any one of these categories are intriguing to you, you will probably enjoy this memoir. Keep in mind it's not a guidebook, or a be-all end-all reference to Williamsburg, but one woman's personal affection for a magical place in her childhood that continued to provide her with special memories for the rest of her life.

At the end of the book Bailey provides suggested things to see in CW as well as a bibliography of books about the restored area. Williamsburg geeks like me will love!

 The Corpse at the Crystal Palace, Carola Dunn
In this latest (or perhaps last, considering what happens at the end) in the Daisy Dalrymple Fletcher mysteries, Daisy has guests for a few weeks: her newly-found cousins are visiting. While half the family stays with her mother, she keeps the two boys, Ben and Charlie, and arranges for a visit to the Crystal Palace with them along with Alec's daughter Belinda, twins Oliver and Miranda, their nursemaid, and the redoubtable Nanny Gilpin, who Daisy is still crossing swords with about being allowed more time with the twins. When Nanny doesn't return from a visit to the ladies' room, Daisy goes to find her, and instead discovers a dead nanny inside one of the stalls. Meanwhile, Belinda, Ben and Charlie are following Nanny Gilpin; they lose her temporarily and then find her floating unconscious in a fountain. When Nanny Gilpin awakes, she has no memory of having taken out across the property.

This time Alec must accept a little help from Daisy as she is a witness and the children are involved. Everyone is afraid Nanny Gilpin knows something or has something to do with the murder, but she swears she can't remember. Then examination of the corpse turns up another big surprise.

By now I'd say this is standard Daisy fare. The kids comport themselves very well and are not annoying, and once again a retired Tom Tring offers assistance. My only quibble with this is historical: both Ben and Charlie are from Trinidad, and while people of color were not treated the same in England as they were in the United States, the British of that time still showed considerable prejudice toward anyone who wasn't light-skinned—all the mystery novels written in that era show that. It just seems unrealistic that everyone accepts Ben and Charlie and no one is ever rude to them.

 The Librarians and the Lost Lamp, Greg Cox
This is the first of Cox's two books (not sure if there will be any more since TNT has cancelled the series) based on the fantasy series The Librarians. The Library is a wonderful place where magical artifacts are stored so that mere humans will not misuse them. Flynn Carsen, a nebbish perpetual student, was once the only chosen Librarian, but when he went missing three more potential Librarians were called: Jacob Stone, a working-class man who is also an art historian; Cassandra Killian, a woman who can see numbers and formulas due to a tumor in her brain; and Ezekiel Jones, a brash Australian thief. They are cared for by ex-military Eve Baird as their Guardian, and assisted by the patrician Jenkins, who hides a secret of his own.

Half the book is a flashback to one of Flynn's assignments: keep the Genie's Lamp from "the 40," the descendants of the gang of Forty Thieves in "Aladdin." Along with Dr. Masri, a modern scientist who is a descendant of Scherezade, Flynn must use clues in an original manuscript of the Thousand and One Nights, to find the Lamp, chased by the Forty. In modern-day Las Vegas, the three new Librarians and Eve keep their eye on a man with incredible luck at a hotel called Ali Baba's, not knowing that soon the two stories will collide.

As I said about the second book, Cox really has a talent for reproducing the tone of the series. All the characters sound like themselves, including Jenkins, who gets in some good lines. We also see the origins of the series from the three movies with Noah Wyle as Flynn Carsen; again, he has Flynn's unorthodox methods and his charming yet adversarial relationship with Library seniors Charlene and Judson spot on. It's a whirlwind adventure through the lands of the Arabian Nights and the glitter of Las Vegas that any Librarians fan will appreciate.

Oh, and I really appreciated The Night Stalker original film/novel reference, too!

  Elementary: Blood and Ink, Adam Christopher
Sherlock Holmes is inclined to be dismissive when he and partner Joan Watson are called to consult about a CFO's murder—until Holmes finds out the man was stabbed in the eye with a very expensive pen, clearly sending a message. When they discover that a similar crime happened some years ago and that the man responsible for it is in New York City, it seems an open-and-shut, and very boring, case for Holmes...but there's something about it that's still not right.

Not quite as interesting as its predecessor, The Ghost Line, Christopher, like Greg Cox of The Librarians novels, has a great feel for the characters of the Elementary series. Sherlock sounds like Sherlock (insufferably so sometimes), Joan is consistent with television Joan, Gregson and Bell conform to their media counterparts. The story itself, about the murder of a financial officer and what it has to do with a motivational speaker and his assistants, is just a little more pedestrian than the previous story. The mystery is reasonably complex, but becomes easier to figure out as you get closer to the end of the story.

 The Art of Tasha Tudor, Harry Davis
Like many people, I fell in love with Tasha Tudor's beautiful work via The Secret Garden. Her lovely sketches of birds, flowers, and the children even led me to trade my paperback version in for the hardcover, which contained color plates. Her exquisite work gave me joy. Then I discovered her Christmas art. Even better, I found out her Christmas art was based on her actual lifestyle: she dressed in old-fashioned clothes, lived in an old-fashioned house, and celebrated holiday feasts in the simple ways of earlier years.

This volume is a collection of her art (plus a few stunning pieces by her mother, who was also an artist), but also talks about her life, some of which was rather sad. She always thought she was unattractive, and ended up marrying the first man who asked her because she was afraid no one would ever want her. Her husband ended up living off her work and they eventually divorced. She also regularly destroyed artwork which she didn't like, even if others told her it was good! In fact, until an exhibition of her artwork was done in Williamsburg, Virginia, she didn't even consider herself a successful artist, although she had illustrated many books by then and was in demand!

The book contains 150 pieces of her artwork, both the watercolors she was known for and her lesser-known and exhibited oil paintings, plus sketch studies and partially finished works. It is a delight just to page through and look at the illustrations. A must for any Tasha Tudor fans!

 The World of Louisa May Alcott, William Anderson with photos by David Wade
William Anderson is perhaps now best known for his books about Laura Ingalls Wilder, but this is an early 1990s volume of the same vein as The World of Laura Ingalls Wilder, presented mainly via illustration and photographs, starting with the meeting of Amos Bronson Alcott and Abigail "Abba" May.

This is a nice overview of Alcott's life if one is not interested in reading an in-depth biography, and the photos of the different places she lived (Fruitlands, Orchard House, Hillside, Beacon Hill in Boston, etc.) are the best part of it, since Orchard House, at least, does not allow visitors to take photographs, so it was a nice memory of the visit I took in 2005. Photos of the "real Marmee," "Mr. March," and "Meg" and "Amy" (sadly there were no photos of the real "Beth," who died at age twenty-three), and of course the "real Jo" bring the family to life. There are even photos of the two nephews for which Louisa wrote Little Men and an adult photograph of Lulu, May Alcott Nieriker's daughter who was brought up for ten years by Louisa. There are also profiles of the important people in the Alcotts' lives, such as Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorne.

Readable by both child and adult fans of Louisa and her works!

 The Edwardian Lady: The Story of Edith Holden, Ina Taylor
Who remembers Upstairs, Downstairs? It was the Downton Abbey of the 1970s, broadcast on Masterpiece Theatre, and suddenly everyone was following the adventures of the Bellamy family and their servants. Collaterally, people suddenly became interested in the Edwardian era, and books related to the era began to be written or rediscovered. In 1977, Edith Holden's 1906 hand-drawn hand-lettered nature diary was published. The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady became a cottage industry almost unto itself: there were Country Diary mugs, journals, writing tablets, painting sets, tea sets, coasters, tea towels, etc. A decade later, a lesser nature diary of Edith's, Nature Notes of an Edwardian Lady, was discovered and published.

Edith Holden herself was not a famous person or internationally noted artist, simply a middle-class young woman of the late Victorian/Edwardian era who kept, as many young ladies did in those days (it was considered an accomplishment) a nature journal. Her father ran a successful business, the family supported the cause of the poor, and most of her sisters were artistic; she collaborated with one of her sisters on several projects. Although she had artwork exhibited in art shows and children's books published, they are now forgotten and she is only known for the Country Diary. This is a quiet, thoughtful book about Edith's life and Edwardian times which might be of interest to people who are interested in the Edwardian era, women in the arts, and/or nature-oriented art. Because all we know of Edith is from her two diaries and some letters, she doesn't really come alive in this book, but the illustrations are lovely and the life of a young woman in Edwardian times is well-shown.

 Rivers of London: Cry Fox, Ben Aaronovitch, Andrew Cartmel, Lee Sullivan, Luis Guerrero
The fifth in Aaronovitch's Peter Grant graphic novel series has Peter's magic-talented niece Abigail taking center stage. While Peter, Nightingale, and Varvara go to a pub frequented by the demimonde to threaten them, Abigail, who's awaiting her weekly lesson, is left cooling her heels. On the way home she encounters a fox who asks her to help a girl return to her mother. Unfortunately it's a trap by Reynard Fossman to get the money he thinks he's owed by the Russian couple arrested in the previous Night Witch. He's not only keeping the mate and kit of the fox in captivity, but is working with two thugs and a weird mother/son pair in order to get his satisfaction.

Let's say I'm really familiar with the short story referenced in this tale—it forms the basis of my favorite Get Smart episode—so I knew what Abigail was in for the minute she spoke with the squirrelly son. I was very happy to see some action for Sahra Guleed, one of my favorite supporting characters, but the end of this story was too abrupt! After all the buildup, the suspenseful part  wasn't long enough. I would have liked to have seen the electronic device not work and have a little more suspense building up to the denouement; it seemed like the exciting part of the story just got started and, whap, there's deus ex machina Nightingale there for a quick ending. Maybe a smaller subplot involved in the story that had to be solved before they could get to the main plot, the mother/son having a larger estate, etc. which would have called for another issue with a longer suspenseful ending.

Still—love the foxes, love Abigail and Guleed, love the use of that short story, and the inserts about fox lore were great as well. And as always, the short "Tales from the Folly."

 Wind in the Ash Tree, Jeanine McMullen
I realized after reading McMullen's A Small Country Living last year and loving it that I just had to get the two sequels, so I made good use of some spare Amazon.com points to get used copies of them.

Wind takes up where Living left off, with native Australian McMullen struggling to make ends meet on the small Welsh farm she bought with her former boyfriend. "The Artist" is now out of her life, but her eccentric mother "Mrs. P" helps keep house and keeps up her spirit, until her beloved whippet Merlin dies. Then she finds herself struggling to keep up her homestead and not slip into a bereaved depression, all the while trying to assemble a radio show for the BBC about living in the country.

As always, McMullen's daffy animals have delightful cameos: Doli the draft horse who feigns lameness; the oversexed flock of goats headed by the wild Dolores who fall for a stinky billy named Ghandi; Absolute Bliss, the gorgeous rooster who knows it; a sheep called Hetty and her daughter Sadie, who feud and bond to feud again; a very angry pig named Blossom; and the "farm-bred" chihuahua named Winston that she buys for her mother, who ends up being the leader of the pack.

There's also a fairy named Bw Bach haunting the chimney, various adventures with her friends, and a visit by a septic tank lorry that goes disastrously wrong.

By turns sad, hilarious, and magnificently descriptive of the Welsh countryside, another winner from McMullen.

 The Autobiography of James T. Kirk, edited by David A. Goodman
I read a review of this book that said it was about the reboot-Kirk and was inclined to pass it up until I found it at bargain prices.

No, not high art, but an interesting version about the formative years of Captain Kirk and how he came to be. We see his youth in Iowa, where his father runs a small farm and takes care of Kirk and his brother while his mother serves in Starfleet; his time on Tarsus IV and life under Kodos "the Executioner" ("Conscience of the King"), his time in Starfleet Academy where he meets Ben Finney ("Courtmartial"), Finnegan ("Shore Leave"), and John Gill ("Patterns of Force"), along with others named in the series, his affair with Carol Marcus that cumulates with the birth of their son David and Carol's realization that Kirk will not leave his career for a family. The second half of the book gives a Kirk's-eye view of his command of the Enterprise, but becomes somewhat choppy as the story skips some of the Trek episodes, although there is an amusing treatment of the substandard film The Final Frontier that aggravated some but made me laugh. We also learn little things like why Janice Rand left the Enterprise (which makes sense when you think about it) and see Kirk's periodic visits to Earth to visit his family and his internal struggles over decisions he made and also his decision to stay out of David's life.

In places kind of pedestrian, but I enjoyed the way the "editor" worked in the Trek glimpses of Kirk's past and gave them a little life. Most Star Trek fans should at least like.

 A Scandal in Battersea, Mercedes Lackey
Lackey returns to the world of Elemental Masters with a second novel featuring both young telepath Nan Killian and young empath Sarah Lyon-White along with Dr. John Watson and his wife Mary, and of course Sherlock Holmes.

It's Christmastime with all the fun and food that involves, and Nan, Sarah, and their young ward Suki are looking forward to it. But Christmas Eve is also the time when the barrier between the seen and the unseen world is the thinnest, and this year it will also be in the dark of the moon. Nan has agreed to communicate with a young woman in an insane asylum who is seeing terrifying visions of a blasted, lifeless alternate London, and she is horrified when she realized it's a possible future. Is some rogue magician about to conjure up this frightening future?

Yes, he is; his plan is presented in alternate chapters where you want to grab this dude and bellow "What are you doing?"

The "monsters" Nan, Sarah, and their friends are fighting this time are quite creepy. I have heard this book described as "Sherlock Holmes meets Cthulu," and indeed the scenes in the alternate future will make you crawl. However, Sherlock is named more than present; he is there at the confrontation at the conclusion of the book. Don't read this if you're looking for Sherlock; instead read it if you are interested in an unsettling fantasy novel and two courageous young women battling a coming evil.

 The Private World of Tasha Tudor, Tasha Tudor and Richard Brown
Richard Brown first met artist and illustrator Tasha Tudor when he was assigned to do a photographic feature about her garden. They got to be friends, and the result is this pretty book of photographs behind the scenes of Tudor's life. An individualist, Tudor lived in an old-fashioned home with little modern comforts, always dressing in long skirts and other fashions from out of the 1800s (she said she always felt she lived once before, in 1830), painting not in a studio but at one end of a farmhouse table in her kitchen. The house was hand built by her oldest son.

Dividing the book into four parts to correlate with the seasons, Brown films Tudor at work at her painting and in just taking care of her beautiful flower garden—her flowers were truly stunning, like a fairy-tale English garden come to life—and her animals, vintage clothing she owns, and going through household tasks with her pets, including an African Gray parrot. There are also several dozen pictures of Tasha's art, including preliminary sketches. The text is by Tudor herself, told in her blunt, forthright manner.

If you are a Tasha Tudor fan, you should love this look into her life and home.

 The Strange Case of Dr. Doyle, Daniel Friedman, MD and Eugene Friedman, MD
Well...damn!

I'm not much of a fan of the Jack the Ripper conundrum, although I have attended panels at conventions where the subject was discussed because both the panelists had some knowledge of the investigations. I'm wondering now if either of those panelists had read this book.

The authors, both medical doctors, present the volume as fictional chapters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle escorting a group of people (including two women) on a tour of the five verified Jack the Ripper sites and soliciting their opinions of the evidence and the clues to see if they can come up with an analysis of the character of the killer (apparently Conan Doyle took a tour like this in 1905, five years before this story takes place). Alternating are biographical chapters about Conan Doyle from his miserable childhood to his marriage and the publication of A Study in Scarlet that emphasize his physical strength, his bizarre sense of humor and penchant for practical jokes, his ambivalence about his profession, his homesickness for a home life that was decidedly abnormal, and how ashamed he was of his father, who was an alcoholic and possibly mentally ill as well. About halfway through the book I realized what the authors were getting at.

Wow...seriously.

This is definitely a Jack the Ripper analysis that reaches a novel conclusion. The authors did a lot of research, and their conclusion is definitely not proven, but if you've ever been curious about the identity of the Ripper, this one presents a definitely different view of the murders!

 The Legend of Holly Claus, Brittney Ryan

 Christine Kringle, Lynn Brittney

 On Trails. Robert Moor
On the surface this is Moor's story of his love of hiking, and it opens with his experience hiking the length of the Appalachian Trail. But as he hiked, Moor became curious: how do trails develop? Is there a logic to how they are placed (actually, there is)? Why do people use trails? Are human trails and animal trails formed for the same reason? And what about animal trails—how do animals mark trails? Is there a difference in a trail formed by an ant and one formed by an elephant? Following Moor's opening hiking memoir, he takes us on a search for trails: ones formed by extinct animals, barely traceable in the landscape, ones made by insects, African trails formed by elephants and migrating zebra, the earliest trails formed by the Native Americans—Moor visits with both Cherokee and Navajo to see how their trails were used, hikers who migrate from trail to trail for the different experiences they get out of the walk, and even a chapter about extending the Appalachian Trail through Europe and down through Morocco under the tutelage of a unique female guide, among people who thought hiking was a waste of time.

I was frankly glued to this book during the entire narrative, whether it was talking about Moor's different hikes or about the scientific research into why insects, animals, and man creates trails. Moor even likens the Internet to the newest effort of humans to establish a trail, this time not a physical path but a connection through technology. I especially enjoyed his fossil-hunting tale, as I enjoy learning about Earth's physical past, and his stories about herding sheep for the Navajo and hiking with walkers of Cherokee extraction, so that I could learn more about different Native American cultures. The "Tuckamore" landscape of Newfoundland sounded fascinating; I would love to see it someday.

An engaging read mixing nature, history, and prehistory.

 Rocket Men, Robert Kurson
This is reviewed in the May 2018 entry. I wanted a hard copy and of course could not resist reading it again.

 London Rain, Nicola Upson
I loved the first "Josephine Tey" mystery by Upson because she had the vocabulary of 1930s crime fiction down pat; while I had a problem with the second one I have mostly enjoyed this series featuring a fictionalized Tey (real name Elizabeth MacIntosh), her Scotland Yard inspector best friend Archie Penrose, and a romantic triangle she has inadvertantly fallen into. In this entry, Tey is visiting BBC Broadcasting House to oversee a radio performance of one of her historical stories and meets Vivienne Beresford, married to one of the BBC's most well-known announcers. When Arthur Beresford is murdered after his segment on the Coronation of King George VI, Tey is drawn into the twisted tale of the death and the reasons for it, especially when she discovers Vivienne killed her husband.

I was happy that for once Josephine's love affair fit into the story seamlessly; in some of the books it seemed tacked on. Archie's long-lost love Bridget also appears as it seems everyone in the story has secrets of his/her own.

The real stars of this story for me were Upson's fabulous descriptions of the BBC's famed Broadcasting House and the atmosphere around London and the pageantry of the celebration surrounding the Coronation. She perfectly describes the up-to-date recording facility and the difference in the building of spaces for the executives and for the workers, and the excitement of the people on the street as they prepare for the Coronation after the bombshell abdication of King Edward VIII. You can practically see the homemade decorations and the banners and the flags flying, smell the rain that spoils part of the procession, sense the excitement of the crowds, Upson brings it so vividly to life. I was absorbed in the mystery, but the atmosphere was the best part of this sixth book in the series.

 The Hills Have Spies, Mercedes Lackey
In this first book of the "Family Spies" series, we join former mine slave Mags and his wife Amily fifteen years after the end of Closer to the Chest. They now have three children, Peregrine (known as Perry), Abi, and Tory. Because of Mags' employment as a royal spy and Amily's rank as King's Own, the children have all been taught self-defense, and thirteen-year-old Perry is particularly talented at learning spycraft. When Mags is asked to check on Herald Arville's reports of odd occurrences in a village near the Pelagir Hills (people have disappeared and when Arville asks after them they have been forgotten), he takes Perry with him. They find out that something truly sinister is going on a day's journey from the village, but when Mags demurs to do anything about it before he checks with instructions from Haven, Perry and his new friend, the kyree [feline-like wolf] Larral, take it into their heads to infiltrate the sinister place.

Yes, that is indeed "Herald Arville" who first appeared in Lackey's Valdemar short story about four Heralds that closely resemble the gang from Scooby-Doo. Now elderly, he is used to good effect here. Of course headstrong Perry gets in over his head, but his training serves him well in the frightening situation he's tossed into. He comports himself quite well, but knowing his son is now the captive of a madman causes tension and heartache for Mags. With the help of a King-Stag dyheli [intelligent deer-like creature] whose herd-member Perry saved (his Gift is Animal Mindspeech), it will take all of Mags and his Companion Dallen's cleverness to rescue him.

I did like this. No one got kidnapped, Mags no longer sports his country-boy dialect speech, Perry is a particularly level-headed kid despite going dashing off without his father's permission, and the villain makes your skin crawl. There are some neat scenes with Perry communicating with birds and other animals, as well as some dogs he trains. (I wish he'd come train Tucker!) They receive help from an unusual source which is not so unusual coming from the spell-ridden Pelagirs.

The biggest puzzle about this book is why the description on the dust jacket (and, apparently, the description on the back of the paperback) doesn't match the plot of the book. Perry is called "Justyn" and the plot elements described don't jibe with what happens, except that he meets the kyree. It's almost like the publisher used an early synopsis of the book. Perhaps the plot described happens in the next book?