Book Review: Golden Hill

Golden Hill, A Novel of Old New York, by Francis Spufford

Written in a stylish language of a time long ago, when New York was a tiny city in pre-colonial America, this book is fun and informative, a character study of a unknown man who comes to town and stirs up the sleepy populace.

Mr. Smith arrives in New York in 1746 with a check for 1,000 pounds, and demands payment. But he refuses to talk about who he is, why he is there, and why he is owed the money.

The Londoner soon becomes part of the life of the city, ingratiating himself with the prosperous and powerful. Indeed, he even tries to court Tabitha Lovell, the cagey daughter of the family whom he comes to pay him the money.

Tabitha is a wonderful character in a book filled with them. She is a woman before her time, a feminist in colonial dress. Mr. Smith at one point suggests that may be the reason for her aggressive manner. You bite because you are caged, he tells her. She responds, "What if I am the kind of dog who bites because it pleases her?"

The books is filled with such dialogue. It is filled with great descriptions of time and place.

And in the end, it does wrap up the story, which is always a plus. The epilogue explains it all.

Book Review: My Name is Leon

My Name is Leon, by Kit De Waal

This is an excellent book. Almost perfect. Except for the ending.

SPOILER ALERT: 

The problem with the ending is that is just ends. No resolution. No happy ending. No sad ending. Just the book ends.

END SPOILER ALERT.

Ok. Sorry about that. Hope you can read around it, or I hope the spoiler doesn't wreck the book for you. Because it's a great book. I really, really liked it.

It's DeWaal's first novel, and it's a dozy. The British writer, of Irish and Kittian descent, introduces us to an array of characters, including Leon, a 9-year-old boy of mixed race. That is important because when his mother gives birth to a second child, and experiences severe postpartum depression, children's services swoops in and puts both children in foster care. Soon, the infant white boy is adopted, but Leon is left in care of his foster mother, where everyone correctly assume he will stay.

Except for Leon. In the less-than-a-year that he lived with -- and took care of -- his baby brother, he grew to love him. He wants to reunite with his mother and brother, and sets out to do so, despite the long odds against him.

Along the way, he meets people who want to help and hurt him. He learns the difficulties in being a black boy in white Britain -- which seems very much like being  black boy in white America. But he also bonds with a group of black men from the West Indies, who seem very much like the father he knows.

Review: Treat Us Like Dogs and We Will Become Wolves

Treat Us Like Dogs and We Will Become Wolves, by Carolyn Chute

This is a tough book to read, partly because of its writing style, and partly because of its subject matter.

But first off, I have to say I enjoy Chute's work. She is an excellent writer -- vividly descriptive, with enticing characters and wonderful dialogue. She know her subject matter: the white working class of rural Maine, who work and live in poverty, but on their own terms. It's a unique perspective she gives, often from the inside, as it's a culture and lifestyle she daily surrounds herself with.

So what make it difficult to read? Well, first off, it's the book's structure -- divided into three parts, with each a separate story line that somehow intertwines with other parts of the book. It's the writing style, with various stories told from the multiple perspectives of those who are involved, sometimes intimately, sometimes from a distance of space and time. It's her fondness for description, often redundant, but with the result of deep knowledge of those who populate the book.

Overall, it's a long and sometimes densely written novel, with one main character but many side characters who come and go. But I am glad I read it, as it gave me a lot to think about.

Generally, the book is about Gordon St. Onge, a charismatic fellow who runs a settlement outside of Egypt, Maine. A local reporter -- a punkish, hippie-type, young woman with a sarcastic bent -- decides she will somehow look into reports/rumors/tips of child abuse, multiple marriages, militias, and other problems inside the camp. The second parts delves more inside the camp, with a young artist named Bree, and with the impact she has. The third part is about a militia -- or perhaps multiple militias? -- that are a part of and/or outside the group. (I told you it's a bit confusing. Things happen seemingly at random. Story lines pop up and disappear, and are sometimes resolved. Or not.)

But through all of this, Chute writes sympathetically about the characters and their lives. Often, such people are treated with disdain or as mere stereotypes. But Chute flushes out the people and their issues, and gives us characters with strengths and flaws and thoughts that often are untold.

It's by no means a perfect book, and it'll take a while to get through it -- it's nearly 700 pages, it's neither not quick nor light reading -- but it's worth the effort.

Watching the Eclipse

I lay on the bench beside a pond in a suburban Nashville park. Beside me, the ducks were preening and cleaning their feathers.

I watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. With my special eclipse glasses, I could see nothing else in the dark sky. The effect was weirdly two-dimensional: The moon, appearing as a black disc, slowly covered up the sun's white-disc appearance, and now, a thin crescent remained. The rest of the sky was a deep gray.

Then everything disappeared.

I took off my glasses and looked up. Two minutes before totality, a cloud had covered the sun and the moon.

But the good news was that it was a single, fluffy cloud crossing an otherwise clear sky. And the park had lots of open ground, so moving uphill a few yards was enough to find a clear spot to view the sun and the moon. I put on my glasses, lay down, and looked up.

I found what I was there for, as the moon's disc now covered most of the sun, which now looked like a crescent sun. Only a small sliver of the sun showed behind the moon. Slowly, that crescent grew thinner and thinner, then became a small white dot. Presently, the dot vanished.

I removed my glasses. What I saw brought on a feeling of awe, and a wide grin, as my exclamations of joy joined those of my fellow eclipse watchers. The dark, almost night sky. The birds flying across the sky, seeming confused. The deep dark black of the moon. The dazzling white corona of the sun, flickering and flashing and showing itself around the rim of the moon. It was spectacular, a sight worth traveling hundreds of miles to see.

(By the way, the photos are from the NASA site.)

Book Review: Minding Frankie

Minding Frankie, by Maeve Binchy

I like Maeve Binchy's books. I like her writing. I like the way she develops characters and brings them together. I generally like her stories.

And I liked this one. Well, kind of. I think I'd like it more if it wasn't so ... so ... so upbeat.

Now, before you reject me as a cranky old man -- OK, I am a cranky old man -- hear me out. This book is too good in the sense that nothing bad really happens. Even the bad things are so obviously meant to challenge the people to be ever better.

Emily Lynch is an American of Irish descent who arrives in Dublin to visit her family and find her roots. She quickly becomes the star of the neighborhood -- helping her cousin Noel with his drinking problem, finding a way to raise money for her aunt and uncle's bizarre plan to fund a statue to an obscure saint, and otherwise to do good for everyone she meets. When Noel discovers he is the father to a dying woman's child -- a one-night stand he had forgotten about, natch -- Emily puts together a plan to have the entire community come together to help out.

Only one person wants to spoil the plan: A social worker who doesn't think Noel is the proper parent for the child, and worries she will get into trouble when the family inevitably falls apart. (This seems to be a trope of Irish fiction -- women who worry what others think of them.)

But don't worry -- spoiler alert here -- everything comes together in the end. The characters find acceptance, love, and live happily ever after.