bibliobibuli: what we've been reading

The Perils of Prosperity: 1914–32, Second Edition
William E. Leuchtenburg
(University of Chicago Press, 1993, paperback, 321 pages)
There is an apparent dearth of books about the “twenty glorious years”—the
period between the end of World War I and the beginning of World War II.
Leuchtenburg’s admittedly older title has partially filled that gap for me,
covering a sizeable portion of that period. Leuchtenburg’s book looks at
America between 1914 and 1932, explaining the events that shaped the
country, from Wilson’s role in the Treaty of Versailles to the Red Scare of the
early 1920s to Prohibition to the market crash of 1929. Although at first I was
concerned that the approach would be overly academic, Leuchtenburg
employs a lively style that made this a quick, interesting read. I found this for
$2 at an AAUW book sale and am very glad to have chanced upon it. Although
this is an older title, it’s still in print and available from Amazon and the U of C
Press bookstore. If you’re at all interested in this period of history—which still
affects today’s world—I highly recommend this book.

The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million
Daniel Mendelsohn
(HarperPerennial, 2006, paperback, 516 pages)
I don’t think there was a negative review written about this book, and my short
commentary won’t be the first. Mendelsohn’s memoir about the search for six
of his family members who perished during the Holocaust is a National Book
Critics Circle award winner. Although some of the reviews are a little
hyperbolic—“…the most gripping, the most amazing true story…” (perhaps
that guy doesn’t read much)—it is a fascinating story, and one that lingers long
after the last page is read. I confess I skimmed a bit of it (at 516 pages, it’s
quite a long one, and the sections about the parashat Bereishit had no real
meaning for me), but Mendelsohn’s journey was such an interesting one on
many levels. For days after finishing the book, I found myself thinking about
the journey Mendelsohn and his family took to uncover the story of what
happened to their relatives. At first, I had hoped for a more dramatic, exciting
ending to the book, but in the end I think it finished just right. It’s an interesting
approach to memoirs about the War and worth the read.

A Life in Secrets: Vera Atkins and the Missing Agents of WWII: A
Story of the Men and Women Who Waged Churchill’s Secret War
Sarah Helm
(Anchor Books, 2005, paperback, 493 pages)
Another highly regarded book. Although the plethora of subtitles is a little
overdone—“Churchill’s Secret War” seems an add-on to attract American
readers—the book is compelling and fascinating. As much as the topic is Vera
Atkins, head of the French Section of the British Special Operations Executive,
it’s also about the “special operatives” who parachuted into France. This is the
real face of Sebastian Faulks’s Charlotte Gray. British journalist Sarah Helms
tries to track down the real Vera Atkins—an interesting story in its own right—
all while telling the story of the agents Atkins herself tried to track down after
the War. This makes for a fascinating “two-for” that’s hard to put down, despite
its heft.

The Plan of Chicago: Daniel Burnham and the Remaking of the
American City
Carl Smith
(University of Chicago Press, 2006, paperback, 183 pages)
A gem! This should be required reading for all Chicagoans who have ever
wondered who Busse, Ogden, and Wacker were; where Buckingham Fountain
got its name; or why the Museum of Science and Industry is so far away from
the Museum Campus. Smith does a wonderful job of distilling Burnham’s 1909
Plan of Chicago, which most of us have neither the access nor the time to
read. Chicago is one of the great cities of the world, and this book made me
love it even more.

Gentlemen of the Road
Michael Chabon
(Del Rey/Ballantine Books, 2007, hardcover, 204 pages)
Oy. Strike two on Michael Chabon. Not only was I perhaps the only person who
didn't like The Yiddish Policemen's Union, but Chabon's latest novel didn't do
much for me, either. The story originally was serialized in the New York Times.
I didn't love what I saw there, but I hadn't read all the installments, so I picked
up the book and plugged away at it. Although some of the characters are
interesting (Zelikman in particular), I just couldn't get in to this story, which is
reminiscent of old-time swashbuckler adventures (complete with illustrations!).
Chabon's afterword is the best part of the entire book. It's a pretty little
package, though, with its illustrations, stylized chapter openers, and
cartographic end papers. This one is not on the top of my list of favorite books.
Wait for the paperback.

The Theory of Clouds
Stéphane Audeguy (translated from the French by Timothy Bent)
(Harcourt, 2007, hardcover, 266 pages)
Parisian Stéphane Audeguy’s first novel has been compared to the works of
Kazuo Ishiguro, Haruki Murakami, and others. I might also add Charles
Dickinson (A Shortcut in Time) to that list. Although the book certainly has
some overtones akin to Ishiguro’s and Murakami’s work, this interesting novel
isn’t quite as surreal. In fact, at times the book reads more like well written
nonfiction than fiction. The novel develops in part through stories shared
between characters across centuries whose interest in clouds bind them
closely together as they seek meaning, understanding, and fulfillment in both
the abstract and the concrete.

Ghost
Alan Lightman
(Pantheon, 2007, hardcover, 245 pages)
Alan Lightman is one of my favorite authors and he has never failed to impress
me. I only wish he wrote his novels with more frequency. His latest novel,
Ghost, is sensitive, inquisitive, and provocative. Lightman’s exploration of the
metaphysical and the physical never ceases to draw me in, completely. This
beautiful novel contains some rather odd coincidences to my own life, which
made the story only more interesting. Strangely, Lightman manages to capture
my feelings like few other authors (Duras being one of them). This is, by far,
one of the best novels I’ve read in ages.

The Maytrees
Annie Dillard
(HarperCollins, 2007, hardcover, 216 pages)
It’s been a long time since I read anything by Annie Dillard, although I’ve
always enjoyed her writing. This novel is much different than her other fiction
entry (The Living), published 15 years previously. I actually prefer her
nonfiction, but that’s not to say that The Maytrees is substandard. Of course,
all the reviewers praise the book (I suspect few would dare to rail on one of
modernity’s most notable women of letters), and it certainly is worthy of praise.
Interesting characters and an evocative setting couple with Dillard’s tempered
style in a touching love story. Although the cynic in me found the basic premise
a little unbelievable (and, perhaps, a little too reminiscent of Ethan Fromm),
the story captured my attention and my imagination from beginning to end.

A Summer Plague: Polio and Its Survivors
Tony Gould
(Yale University Press, 1995, hardcover 366 pages)
One of my relatives was stricken with poliomyelitis in the 1950s and today is
experiencing the effects of what is being called post-polio syndrome. Polio has
long been of interest to me, but in a distant way. When I came across this book
at an AAUP book sale, I snatched it up (the book is still in print, though, and is
available in paperback). Not knowing much about polio, I found it to be
comprehensive, if not a little unwieldy and long in the tooth. The author’s focus
(fixation?) on FDR largely frames his discussion of the disease and efforts to
find a cure for it. Although interesting, I would like to have learned more about
polio without the celebrity focus. The second part of the book focuses on
stories of survivors, but by then, I confess, I was finding the text a little
repetitive. Still interesting, though.

A Hundred & One Days
Åsne Seierstad
(Basic Books, 2005, hardcover, 320 pages)
Åsne Seierstad is a terrific storyteller, and a controversial one. Probably better
known for The Bookseller of Kabul, Seierstad’s work paints a compelling
picture of a region and a people that few Westerners understand or even try
to. A Hundred & One Days goes well beyond the sound bites and vapid
platitudes we so often hear on the evening news to describe in compelling
detail the days before and after Baghdad fell to U.S.-led coalition forces.
Seierstad’s book covers not only her own actions while working as a journalist
in Baghdad (it should be required reading for any aspiring foreign
correspondent) but also her efforts at getting Iraqis to talk to her — to really
tell her what life what like in a country being torn apart. Now, nearly five years
after the White House declared “Mission Accomplished” in Iraq, reading this
book made me so sad. Although the book may, in fact, provide only a
snapshot of life in Iraq, it is a precious snapshot.

Seize the Daylight
David Prerau
(Thunder's Mouth Press, 2005, hardcover, 256 pages)
I picked this one up on a whim and it was well worth it. Whoda thunk that
daylight saving time could be so interesting or that it would turn out to be such
a controversial issue? Although the book gets a little repetitive and long-
winded, it's a quick read, full of fascinating tidbits as it relates the history of
that extra hour of daylight.

On Chesil Beach
Ian McEwan
(Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 2007, hardcover, 203 pages)
Fans of the prolific Ian McEwan will not be disappointed with this charming,
thoughtful book. Beautifully-written, evocative, quiet, and introspective, this
tale, told partially in flash-back, is touching and lingers long after the last word
read and the book is closed. Neither surprising nor predictable, the story is
somehow at once fresh and familiar. Perhaps that is a testament to McEwan's
engrossing style. The book itself is handsome, too -- the trim size, paper, and
typeface all work together with the story itself to make the entire package feel
intimate without being voyeuristic.

Over the Edge of the World
Laurence Bergreen
(HarperPerennial, 2003, paperback, 458 pages)
"Wondrous," "gripping," "excellent," and "fascinating" are just a few of the
fawning adjectives used to describe the book -- and they're all right on the
money. While I, of course, could point to the Strait of Magellan on a map, little
did I know of the exciting adventure that led to its discovery or to the drama
that unfolded once Magellan located and sailed through this dangerous spot.
Bergreen has written a real page-turner here. Highly recommended.

The Yiddish Policemen’s Union
Michael Chabon
(HarperCollins, 2007, hardcover, 414 pages)
I know I am supposed to have loved Michael Chabon’s latest novel, but I didn’t
– even though, it seems, just about everyone else did. The Washington Post
called it “terrific,” Booklist argued that it might be the “equal” to Kavalier &
Clay, and the New York Times called Chabon’s leading character "one of the
most appealing detective heroes to come along since Sam Spade or Philip
Marlowe.” Hardly.

Now, let me just say that I’ve loved Chabon’s earlier books, especially the
lesser-known Mysteries of Pittsburgh, his endearing first novel. The Yiddish
Policemen’s Union, though, left me frustrated and disappointed, especially
since I was so looking forward to it. I’d say wait for this to come out in
paperback or borrow it from the library before rushing out to buy the hardcover.

Other recently read books...
The Coming of the Third Reich
Richard J. Evans
(Penguin, 2005, paperback, 656 pages)

The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great
American Dust Bowl
Timothy Egan
(Mariner Books/Houghton Miffli n, 2006, paperback, 340 pages)

The Coldest Winter: A Stranger in Liberated Europe
Paula Fox
(Picador, 2005, paperback, 133 pages)

The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason
Sam Harris
(Norton, 2004, paperback, 348 pages)

Measuring the World
Daniel Kehlmann (translated from the German by Carol Brown Janeway)
(Pantheon, 2006, hardcover, 259 pages)

A Stranger to Myself: The Inhumanity of War -- Russia, 1941-1944
Willy Peter Reese (translated by Michael Hofmann)
(Farrar Straus Giroux, 2005, hardcover, 176 pages)

Everyday Life: A Novel
Lydie Salvayre (translated from the French by Jane Kuntz)
(Dalkey Archive, 2006, paperback, 199 pages)