Book Review: Small Mercies

 By Dennis Lehane

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Historical fiction

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, Florence, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I read about the Boston busing crisis in Common Ground, by J. Anthony Lukas, so this one resonated with me

• Bookmark used: Hobart Book Village, in Hobart, N.Y., which I visited the summer of 2024   

 ********* 

    This novel, of course, takes as its theme the Boston busing crisis, in the summer of 1974, when a federal judge drew up a plan and ordered the Boston Public Schools to desegregate. 

    But it encompasses so much more: racism, the Boston Mafia, a family crisis, insular neighborhoods, drug addictions, poverty, and a hot, dry summer in a city already boiling over with racial turmoil.

    It's a rich character study of the Southie neighborhood, its denizens and its surroundings. It's moving, melancholy, sometimes funny, and a tale that reverberates today.

    It centers around Mary Patricia Fennessy, known to one and all as Mary Pat, a pillar of her South Boston community, a stout defender of her Southie heritage and all that entails. But as she gets older, having been abandoned by two husbands, seen one son fight in Vietnam and die from a drug addiction, and her only daughter in serious trouble, her rage ramps up. She begins asking questions.

    Is the Boston Mafia, led by Marty Butler and his men, a protector of Southie? Are the Black people over in Roxbury and Mattapan really just a bunch of lazy thugs? Is her Irish Catholic heritage, and its people, really something to lord over others? And most importantly: Did she raise her children right?   

    We get to know the leaders of the anti-busing brigade, some real and some fictional.  There's Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, whom they call Teddy, because he was one of them. But since he defended busing, they now call him a race traitor, and we see as they assault and spit on him during the demonstrations.

    And we learn about the ugliness of the neighborhood kids who celebrate racism, and the Black folks who survive it. (Well, not all of them survive. There the mysterious death of one Black kid who was in the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time, and the impact it had on Black people, white people, and the cops who investigate it.)

    Lehane, born and reared in Boston's Dorchester neighborhood, has written several novels exploring his hometown and its surroundings. His genres have included mysteries and crime, and topics have included violence, loyalty, and a gritty underworld. This one has them all.

Book Review: Mister, Mister

  By Guy Gunaratne

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Literature, Fictional Memoir

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Nobel, Florence, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I liked his first novel about growing up in Birmingham  

 ******

 

   When Yahya Bas, British subject, Islamic poet -- and thus suspected terrorist -- awakes in an isolated jail cell, a policeman is there to take his statement. Bas refuses to say anything. Instead, he cuts out his tongue, preferring to write his story. 

    That is this book.

    It's a memoir, a political statement, a tale of growing up poor and out of place -- both culturally and geographically -- in the West Midlands of England.

    It's a wonderful tale from a poet, a suspected terrorist, and a literary phenom. He's tired of being bullied, suspected, and deceived. 

    "I just want you to listen," he says early in the tale. "I have plenty to say."

    So he writes his story, from his birth to a Muslim family that is only partially his own. His mother is around, but she has mental issues and stays alone in her room. So Yahya is mothered by a group of women, all of whom live in the dilapidate building with his uncle, Sisi Gamal, his teacher, mentor, and sometimes tormentor.

    He winds up attending a Muslim school, where he meets up with a group of friends, exploring Britain's treatment of the world, including his Islamic culture. He is profound, literate, angry. He studies all manner of writings, from the poets of ancient Egypt, Syria, and other parts of the Middle East, to the European scribes of the Middle Ages and onward.

    Soon, Yehya starts writing poetry. It is profane and bitter. He takes the name Al-Bayn, a nod to his culture, an ancient Greek or Celtic name for Britain, and the mystic world of William Blake. He becomes famous in his own community, attracting large crowds and disruptions. The authorities, fearful of his writings and his impact, see him as a threat.

     So he flees and wanders, eventually finding himself in the desert world of his ancestors. In his voluntary exile, he find his own heritage lovely if uncomfortable, difficult if welcoming. He find acceptance, but pushes away, and his return to England is not as voluntary as his leaving. 

    Yet no matter where he goes, he finds himself a nomad, an outsider. He has a lot to say, but he struggles with what it means. We struggle along with him.

Book Review: The Cloisters

 By Katy Hays

• Pub Date: 2022

• Genre: Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I grew up blocks from The Cloisters in New York City  

 ******

 

   It's not often my old neighborhood in New York is highlighted in a novel. Even in maps, Manhattan gets chopped off somewhere uptown from Harlem, like it's not worth the effort to draw the streets of Inwood.

    But The Cloisters are two subway stops from where I grew up on 207th Street. Not that I went there a lot; I think the only time I've been was on a field trip during my elementary school days.

   Still, there's a lot to be said for seeing familiar places and streets in a novel. And it's a decent overall story. Not mind-blowing, but with an array of incongruous yet curiously well matched characters, it's well plotted and well told. 

    Our narrator -- who is either unreliable or unknowing -- is Ann Stilwell from Walla Walla, Wash. She's a smart if unsophisticated art history major, coming to New York for a summer internship at the world renowned Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue in Midtown. But there's a mix up and her job is now unavailable.

    Serendipitously though, she is rescued by Patrick, the dashing curator of the Cloisters, who says he can use her talents at the relatively obscure medieval museum uptown near 190th Street. There, she meets Rachel, a young, cultured, and worldly researcher, and Leo, the gardener with a discerning knowledge of the plants and herbs grown at the museum and a side gig as a punk rock musician.

    In the rarified air of the museum, we discover a lot is going on. Secretive stuff, which involves tarot cards and divination, late night unannounced meetings, and the questionable provenance of artifacts some employees are buying and selling on the side.

    The story centers on the relationships between the main characters, a complicated web of intrigue and personal histories. In between we have Ann's journey of discovering the city's diverse neighborhoods, and her telling the history of the Cloisters, the Renaissance period, and Medieval art. 

    Sometime, it's difficult to follow the rationales of the characters, and several times you find yourself thinking things will not end well. We wonder if they are devious, diabolical, brilliant, or some combination. 

    As a murder mystery (yes, there is one) and police procedural, the story is not very good. As a potential romance, it's mundane. Where it hits its peaks is as an art tutorial, tour guide, and language explainer. Here, the writer finds her niche, with compelling writing and deep insights. 

Book Review: There, There

By Tommy Orange

• Pub Date: 2019

• Genre: Native American Fiction

• Where I bought this book: The Newsouth Bookstore, Montgomery, Ala. 

• Why I bought this book: I was pondering if I should buy his second novel, Wandering Stars, when my wife told me this one, his first, was much better  

 *****

 

  This debut novel, dealing with the urban lives of several Native Americans in Oakland, Calif., has a lot going for it, but in the end, it's a disappointment.

    Oh, the writing is vivid. The individual stories are well told and compelling. Orange gets into their heads, describing their fitful experiences living life on the edge. 

    This is not a tale for white people who see Indians as stoic and spiritual, as more natural and earthbound. These are urban Indians, with problems like trauma, addiction, boredom, loneliness, and isolation.

    The anger and resentment they live and express for the treatment of the Indigenous population -- and the continuing negative effects of that -- comes out loud and clear. I weep for them and for the abuse and scorn and hatred we heaped, and continue to heap, on them.

    But, much like the Gertrude Stein quotation that gives the book its title, the overriding theme gets lost in the details. The character studies are wonderful. But they never coalesce into a whole. They drift in and out of the tales, and their connections with each other get lost amid the confusion.

    Maybe that is the point. Maybe it's me who doesn't understand. But I can see what make the characters tick -- and what they are ticked about -- but feel lost trying to follow what the story is ticking about.

    The book explores the histories and biographies of the various Indian characters, most of whom have tribal or familial relationships. It does so in successive chapters, sometimes following the characters. showing new experiences or bonds. It leads up to, and climaxes during, something called the Big Oakland Powwow.

     Too many make it hard to keeps up with who is who, and if their memories collide with  their actual experiences. There's no single protagonist or antagonist. There is a cast of characters list at the beginning, and it's useful, but it often means having to flip back and forth to determine the changes in relationship. 

    And the ending is a mishmash of those experiences that, once again, tell individual stories well but miss the full picture of what happened,

Book Review: The Fragile Threads of Power

  By V.E. Schwab

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: Well, I've read the first three novels, so may as well keep going  

 ******

    Some great characters return in this book, the fourth in the Shades of Magic series, and the first in a new series, tentatively titled the Threads of Magic*. There's Lila Bard, the angry Antari**, a messy, unsubtle whirlwind; Alucard Emery, a wealthy lord, wannabe pirate, and consort to the king, and Kell Maresh, once cocky and now uneasy, an Antari who has lost his magic.

    They are joined by a series of new magicians: Tes, a young girl who can see the threads of magic and fix broken ones; Kosika, another young girl, who finds herself the queen of White London; and Queen Nadiya Loreni, wife of the new King Rhy Maresh, a magician and scientist.***

    The locations continue to excel: There's Red London, ruled by the Maresh family -- it's the powerful London with raucous neighborhoods full of taverns and marketplaces, but it's people worry it is losing its magic; dystopian Black London, closed up after destroying its magic centuries ago; and White London, trying to make a comeback after a devastating battle with the utmost evil. We also see the return of the Ferase Stras, which you must somehow find before boarding the ship of magical stuff and paying the proper price before getting what you may need.

    So we have a bevy of cunning characters, imaginative places for them to roam, and adventurous stories about royalty and magic and betrayal, urchins and bullies, love and life and death. All of the needed background is explained in the new series, but reading the previous three is well worth your time.

    This is good stuff. The overall story is compelling; the tales and anecdotes are gripping, and we are glad to be along for the ride. Even when the books top 600 pages, they are satisfying and surprisingly quick reads.

    The only flaws I find are the scenes of the battles of magic, which sometimes get a bit overdone and confusing. But rest assured, you can rip through them and stay in touch with the stories.

    -------------------------

* When I picked up the first book, I did not know it was part of a series.

** A most powerful magician in this world.

*** After all, what is science but magic with an explanation?

Book Review: Thirteen Ways of Looking

  By Colum McCann

• Pub Date: 2015

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I love me a good collection of Irish short stories. 

 *****

 

  I am sad that I was generally disappointed in this collection of a novella and three short stories. I have liked several of the author's previous works.

    OK. The stories themselves were decent. The last one, Treaty, about a aging Catholic nun who comes face-to-face with her living nightmare, was thoughtful and compelling. But that one suffered from a flaw the others were far more guilty of, and unexpected from such an accomplished writer: A general lack of focus, using too many words, too much excess description, too much meaningless detail and too many strained metaphors  

    But let's start with the good. Treaty involves Sister Beverly, a nun living in a care home in Long Island, concerned about her health and wondering if her religious life has been a waste. She's forgetful, ill at ease, and unable to feel comfortable in her old age. Then on the television, she sees a man who looks very much like an older version of person who raped her a long time ago. 

    The story deals with perception, pain, horror, and regret. She relives her pain, but does not want to dwell on it as the defining point of her life. Would God want her to reveal the monster -- if that is what he is -- or forgive his actions? Her thoughts and behaviors are deeply compelling, and McCann's tale paints a masterful image.

    Contrast that to the main story, about Peter J. Mendelssohn,  an aging white guy, an immigrant, a Jew, a lawyer, and a former judge in Brooklyn. He's retired, and now living -- and dying -- in a fancy apartment on the Upper East Side. He's had a good life, despite an upbringing in anti-Semitic Europe. But now his days are all about his pains, his diminished capacity, his beloved but now dead wife, and his terse relationship with his egotistical son. 

    But unlike Sister Beverly, his story is not about reflection and regret. It's about him, his thoughts, and his dying. And, quite frankly, his life and story are not all that interesting for the amount of effort it takes to read about it.

    The other two stories, Sh'khol, and What Time is it Now, Where are You? also fall flat.

Book Review: Remember Us

 By Jacqueline Woodson

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Joy and Matt's Bookshop, Cincinnati 

• Why I bought this book: I've read and enjoyed other books by the same author

 ******** 

   I didn't realize this was a Young Adult book when I bought it; I picked it up because I liked some of Woodson's other novels.

    But as I starting reading, I realized this is a wonderful story, powerfully written and told. It features Sage, an African-American girl growing up in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn in the 1970s. It was a daunting time in New York, when houses and apartments across the city were in flames, both literally and figuratively.

    Sage describes living through it, fighting it, surviving it, and eventually thriving. She tells of being a kid, playing basketball, having fun, and dealing with life's myriad problems. She has good friends, acquaintances, and non-friends, staying close and drifting apart, dropping and reforming relationships.

    For Woodson, it's part memoir, if mostly fiction. It's warm and tender, and ultimately kind.

    I laughed; I cried. It became a part of me.

Book Review: The Granny

 By Brendan O'Carroll

• Pub Date: 1996

• Where I bought this book: Last Exit Books, Kent, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I read the first two parts of the trilogy, and liked the stories.

 ******

     Not as laugh-out-loud funny as The Young Wan, nor as disappointing as The Mammy, the conclusion* of the four  stories of Agnes Browne's life is sadder yet more real. It shows her children growing up, their successes and failures, as they experience life in Ireland and beyond in the latter half of the 20th Century. 

    Agnes, the matriarch of the clan, is in many ways a typical Irish mother -- demanding, often self-deprecating, always with more love for her children than herself. She's always willing to go to bat for her brood, but just as willing to shake her wooden spoon at them and threaten to beat them within in inch of their lives.

    But whether those six boys and one girl are kind, loving, and gentle, a common criminal, or a successful businessman, she accepts them for who they are. Even Rory the gay son is accepted, even though his lover and companion is only acknowledged as his close friend.

    But it's a touching, heart-warming family story as the children grow up, make mistakes, cause harm, and break away to find themselves. Sometimes, it a little contrived, and the tales fall into clichés and melodrama. Still, it works, and you should ignore that cynical part of yourself that wants to eye-role, and accept the family for who they are and the tale for what it is.

-------------------------------------------------------

    *Conclusion is not the right word, as the books are written out of order. The Mammy was published in 1994; The Chisellers (which focuses on the children), in 1995; The Granny in 1996, and The Young Wan (about Agnes as a young woman) in 2003.

Book Review: The Mammy

By Brendan O'Carroll

• Pub Date: 1999 

• Where I bought this book: Last Exit Books, Kent, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I read The Young Wan, another book in this "not a series" and it was tender and funny

******

    Agnes Browne is a widowed mother of seven children, living in a ghetto of North Dublin in the late 1960s, and eking out a living selling produce in the market on Moore Street.

    Yet this is not a sad story of Irish poverty, nor a heavy-handed outlook on Irish life. Rather, it's an amusing, sometimes laugh-out-loud, yet always loving look at a mother dealing with the realities of raising six young boys and a sole daughter.

    One of the funniest chapters has her handling her eldest boy, Mark, 12 and unknowingly entering puberty, who is petrified when he finds hair growing on what he called his willy. She first wanted to know who willy was. When she realized it was his penis, she put on the kettle.

    She told him it was part of his growing up. When he asked why, she said her modern woman's explanation went out the window. "That's to keep your willy warm when you go swimming." 

    She was done. "Now, out with yeh," 

    So, Agnes can be profane and exasperated, yet warm to her brood. She accepts their traits and quirks, letting them be themselves as much as they can within the confines of their tiny flat. She keeps them in line, but will go to the mat when they're mistreated by the hard nuns at their Catholic School.

    It's a strong woman and mother, who anybody who has lived with or knows an Irish Catholic family is quite familiar with.

    O'Carroll paints her and the family in broad strokes, giving us small vignettes to portray Agnes, her family, her friends, and her neighborhood. At less than 200 pages, it's a quick and funny read.

Book Review: Didn't Nobody Give a Shit What Happened to Carlotta

 By James Hannaham

• Pub Date: 2022

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books & Coffee, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I liked the optimistic title

******

    

    Carlotta Mercedes is a transwoman getting out of the joint in upstate New York after 20 years behind bars. 

    In her first couple of days of freedom, she has to return to her family's home in a changed Brooklyn, reintroduce herself to her son, Ibe -- who last knew her as his father, Dustin -- figure out the intricacies of the parole system, find a job, and stay on the straight and narrow path. All of this happens during the July 4th weekend, while her family is holding a combination holiday party and wake for a man she doesn't recall knowing.

    We hear her frustrations, her joys, her confusion, her anger, her bitterness, and her dreams as she explores Brooklyn and her old stomping grounds, the gentrified Fort Greene section.

    It's a new world for Carlotta, who last roamed the streets in the late 1990s, partying, dancing and listening to the latest music, while exploring and questioning her sexuality and gender identification. Then she got caught in her cousin's robbing of a liquor store, and wound up testifying against him but still getting a 20-year sentence because her cousin shot the clerk.

    So, in this award-winning novel, she talks about the hellhole that the state prison system is, a world of bartering, suffering, and danger. She is raped by both the inmates and the guards. She spends time in solitary, which for her is torture. She does find a lover, but wonders if he is worth it because he's unlikely to get out.

    All of this is told in flashbacks, in a long-winded, almost stream-of-consciousness style. We also hear her rambling about her current situation, wondering how she can get through the weekend, fix her problems, and still follow the parole rules. She is ill-equipped to do so.

    This is a story of transitions: Her gender transition. Her move from prison back to the streets, her youth now gone, but her mind still back in her early adulthood. The changes in her neighborhood, and her lamentations about all her friends who died too young over the years, including the rappers who helped make the neighborhood famous.

    Still, we can easily root for her, despite her flaws. She is in some ways not a good person, but she tries, and often her heart is in the right place. The book shows how the system isn't made for the likes of Carlotta, almost forcing her to break the rules that seem rigged against her.

    The book is her voice. Hannaham does a fine job of representing her, catching the cadence and rhythms of her language.

Book Review: The Thin Man

 

• By Dashiell Hammett

• Pub Date: 1933

• Where I bought this book: Conveyor Belt Books, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I found this new bookstore, and felt I had to buy something.

****

    Too many characters for such a short book (201 pages) make this old dime-store novel confusing and difficult to follow. Yes, I know Hammett is considered one of the best of the hard-core crime novelists of his time, but it seems this particular gumshoe tale long ago passed its prime.

    While its writing is plain, straight-forward, and linear for the most part, it is jumbled by introducing some characters almost as an aside, using different descriptions or identifications for some, and having others float in and out of the story at random.

    The by-now cliches of the genre can be annoying, but are understood as part of the era when it was written.

    This is a detective story that uses lots of dialogue, and it isn't always clear who is talking, or whom they are referring to. Following along is confusing, and I found myself repeatedly asking, "Who now?" 

    At one point near the end, two colleagues meet, and their tone and relationship seem to have changed so much that I turned back pages to see what I'd missed. I'm still not sure what happened.

    But Hammett's descriptions of 1930s New York, and its cops and gangsters and dames and detectives is arresting. The style is compelling, and it is easy to get immersed in the tale, even if you sometimes feel lost in the twists and turns.

Book Review: Stories From the Tenants Downstairs

 

•  Author: Sidik Fofana

• Where I bought this book: A Room of One's Own, Madison, Wisc. 

• Why I bought this book: A collection of tales about apartment living in Harlem seemed like a good bet.

*****

      

     This is not a book of happy, spunky tales.

    Rather, the stories in this collection are tales of life, of sorrow, of making do. Of struggling to get by, of cutting corners, of doing what you must to survive.

     If that means taking something that isn't yours, then it's what you do. If it means taking advantage of someone else -- who may or may not be in a better position than you -- then the choice is yours.

    These are tales of making questionable decisions,  choosing between nothing but bad choices, knowing that you can try to fix things later.

    It's not a book of making excuses, or justifying the actions. It's simple stories, explanations perhaps, laying out a life of poverty, indifference, and toil.

    These are tales from an apartment building in Harlem, not quite rundown yet, but not one that has people clamoring to get in. It's a building where the tenants care more than the unseen landlord, but they don't care about much more than how to pay their rent. It's a building on the edge of gentrification, not that that helps those who live there.

    There is Michelle, who tells her story of struggling to find the money to pay the rent on the first of the month or else be homeless. She tells of how she find the money, in different ways each day, and how much more she needs. It's not a tale of lament or woe. It's her life. 

    There are tales of students and teachers in school, putting up with the daily misery because that's what they do. There are tales of hanging out, looking for something to do, whether it's to avenge a perceived wrong or simply to bring a bit of joy into their lives.  

    There is the sad tale of najee, a 12-year-old boy, who writes why he is leaving a dancing activity called lite feet. Written in the vernacular of a young boy with learning disabilities and a literacy problem, it tells of his inability to adapt and fit in with the other boys. It's a struggle to read, mirroring the struggle of najee's life.

    Then there is Mr. Murray, an old veteran who hangs out on the corner with his chessboard, inviting others to play. A new restaurant orders him from his corner, and he moves down the block. But his fellow tenants take up his cause and demand he get to stay. Police are called. The newspapers come. Things happen.

    But this is Mr. Murray's story, and no one asked him. He doesn't care where he sits. He just wants to play chess.

    You up for a game? He'll be in his new spot.