Book Review: The Gloaming

   By Melanie Finn

• Pub Date: 2016

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

• Why I bought this book: Gloaming is one of my favorite words 

 *****

    Let me tell you about how I first came across the word gloaming. I'm an old baseball fan, and one of the old baseball stories I read early in life is about "The Homer in the Gloamin'"

    Gloaming is the twilight of the day. In his recent book, Lark Ascending, Silas House has his character use the word. A second character expressed ignorance, asking what it meant. She told him. He asked why she didn't just say dusk. She responded, correctly, that "the word gloaming is so much lovelier." 

    Anyway, baseball. Back in the 1930s, most ballparks did not have lights. Wrigley Field was a case in point -- indeed it was the last modern park to put in lights, in 1988. So the park was dark at night. But late in the 1938 season, the Cubs and Pirates were in a pennant race, with the Pirates half a game ahead of the Cubs. So game 2 of their series would determine which team moved into first place. 

    The game was tied. As nighttime approached and the ninth inning started, the umps said that if neither team scored, they would rule it a tie. And since baseball did not allow for tie games, it would be played all over the next day as part of a doubleheader.

    Top of the ninth, the Pirates failed to scored. Bottom of the ninth, the first two Cubs went hitless. Gabby Hartnett, the Cubs player-manager, was up, and down to his last strike.

    He hit the next pitch into the bleachers, and as he ran the bases and fans swarmed the field to celebrate the victory and move into first place, a reporter for the Associated Press started writing his game story. He dubbed Hartnett's blast, "The Homer in the Gloamin'" 

    So, the legend lives on from the banks of the lake they call Michigan.

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    Ok, now about the book, which is not about baseball, and has neither a pennant race nor a home run. 

    What it does have is some good stories and  decent writing. It starts slowly with a series of flashbacks and present time settings. 

    Bit I am somewhat uncomfortable with her settings in Africa, where her descriptions portray a continent of dirty, backwards, violent people. It's the story of a white savior.

    The protagonist and narrator, Pilgrim Jones, is a white woman who has traveled the world with her husband, a human rights lawyer. We learn this, and why, over time. We also learn that while traveling in Africa, she simply decides to abandon her companions and stay in a country village.

    The explanation comes through as she meets a series of characters, most of whom are more interesting than Pilgrim. They all have backgrounds of trauma or bad choices -- and some have both. The first half of the book tells the tales from Pilgrim's perspective, while the latter part reveals details of the rest of the cast.

    The second part is infinitely better. Some of the tales are about people people causing pain and living with it, or perhaps seeking and finding redemption. Others are those who choose to be called victims, but find ways to go on -- or not.

    It hard what to make of this book. Pilgrim's character almost feels like a cliche, a trope. The others are more real, if a mite exaggerated. 

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: So Late in the Day

 By Claire Keegan

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Athena Books, Greenwich, Conn. 

• Why I bought this book: Long known in her native Ireland, Keegan's books are now being published in the United States. And that is good. 

 *********

    

    I am normally not a fan of verbing nouns. But when Keegan wrote "the speaker jargoned on" I began to question my existence and my crotchets.

    It was the perfect phrase for a tedious experience. And that is Keegan's strength. She can take the mundane, and with some well-chosen words, turn reading about it into one of life's pleasures.

    Whether it's riding a bus, making coffee, even going to the bathroom, Keegan nails it. I am still enamored of her ability to turn a chicken crossing the road into a work of art.

    The setting is a woman taking a drive in the country.

On the edge of the road, a small, plump hen walked purposefully along, her head extended and her feet clambering over the stones. She was a pretty hen, her plumage edged in white, as though she'd powdered herself before she'd stepped out of the house. She hopped down onto the grassy verge and, without looking left or right, raced across the road, then stopped, re-adjusted her wings, and made a clear line for the cliff. The woman watched how the hen kept her head down when she reached the edge and how, without a moment's hesitation, she jumped over it. The woman stopped the car and walked to the spot from which the hen had flung herself. A part of her did not want to look over the cliff -- but when she did she there saw the hen with several others, scratching or lying contentedly in a pit of sand on a grassy ledge not far below.

    That single paragraph does what all writers strive for: showing, not telling, using simple but compelling language, making the ordinary become extraordinary. It was an aside to the actually story, a contextual anomaly, yet it has stuck with me.

    But later thinking about the snippet, I considered how, with her skillful use of pronouns, she mingled the hen's experience with one the woman was about to have.

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See reviews of Keegan's other books

 Foster and Small Things Like These

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    These are three tiny tales of women and men, about their failures at connecting with each other. The women, but mostly the men, talk not to each other, but at each other. In her language and descriptions, Keegan gives the stories a feminist twist. 

    In the title story, she tells of a young couple's broken engagement -- on the day of their wedding -- from the groom's perspective. Instead of being sympathetic, Keegan portrays him as a mess -- bitter, thoughtless, incompetent. But it's not a harsh account. She simply does so by showing Cathal's thoughts, words, and actions before and during the courtship.

    The Long and Painful Death is told from the view of a woman who stays at a writer's house to be inspired by his work. Instead, she is interrupted by an expert on the house she is renting, who is so interested in his own knowledge that he is obtuse to her disinterest in him. It's a clever, subtle take on mansplaining.

    Antarctica deals with a woman seeking to have an affair on a holiday weekend away from her family. (No spoiler here, the opening line of the story is "Every time the happily married woman went away, she wondered how it would feel to sleep with another man. That weekend she was determined to find out.") Although it's another example of her exquisite writing, the story borders on being creepy. It is the reason the book failed to gain a full 10 out of 10 stars in my review.

Book Review: Gwendy's Magic Feather

  By Richard Chizmar

• Pub Date: 2019

• Where I bought this book: Household Books,  Cincinnati. 

• Why I bought this book: I found this really cool, locally owned bookstore in my hometown, and felt I had to buy something. This was it.

 ******

    So, I had read the first and third installments of this trilogy because Stephen King co-wrote those two. Both were good stories, well told. 

    My review of Gwendy's Button Box is here, and Gwendy's Final Task is here.

    I really did not intend to read this middle chapter, because it wasn't essential, and I was unfamiliar with the author. But when I found it in this well-curated bookstore that was part of an under-served neighborhood near mine, well, I had to support it.

    It's nice. Well written. It fits in well to the overall story. It fleshes out the details of Gwendy Peterson, the girl we met as a young teen-ager when a strange man gives her this mysterious, other-worldly button box, who is now a young U.S. Congresswoman from Maine. The button box gives rewards, can cause real pain -- up to and including Armageddon -- and has a strange pull on those who watch over it.

    It's a King creation, through and through. But as King notes in his forward, Chizmar saved the first book from oblivion, and wrote a large role in the third. On his own in the second, Chizmar does a workman-like job, giving Wendy another opportunity to do well. 

    Gwendy becomes what we expected in book one. She's the same person, only older and wiser. But the writing and story have the same flaws as the other two books: Some long-winded, drawn out, unnecessarily long scenes, lots of tropes, and filler (see, it's not just King who does all that). 

    But overall, it's a decent read.

Book Review: Lilith

 By Nikki Marmery

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Athena Books, Greenwich, Conn. 

• Why I bought this book: I am fascinated by the story of Lilith

 *********

    This is a forceful and furious retelling of the Hebrew myth of Lilith, the first woman of creation, who was banished for refusing to be subservient to Adam. She was tossed out of the Garden of Eden, removed from the Bible, and erased in history. But this evocative novel brings her back, in all her glory, anger, and wisdom.

    She spends her long life -- she has attained a humble immortality -- seeking to avenge the submission of women and trying to erase the monotheistic, patriarchal society set up by the male writers in the pages of the Torah and the Christian Bible.

    It's a majestic undertaking, rich in Biblical literature and the religious history of the Middle East. It features many of the characters we know from those Bible stories, including Noah and his ark, Jezebel and Simon Peter, and Mary Magdalene and Jesus; the latter two are called by their Aramaic names, Maryam and Yehuda. It re-introduces us to Asherah, the Hebrew goddess of Heaven and the wife of Yahweh, the god of the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim faiths.

    In addition to an imaginative and convincing novel, Marmery shows a comprehensive scholarship for the Biblical era. Her sourcing range is spectacular, from the study of Hebrew and Mesopotamian myths, to Syrian and Egyptian legends, to the Gnostic Gospels, to the history of the Middle East. The languages she studies and uses include Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.

    Whenever I read one of these retold legends, I often wonder if the writer got things right. Of course, that's a silly thought, because all myths, even the originals, are essentially made up tales and the work of more than one person. But what I want to know is how closely does the retelling adhere to the original literature, and to the perceptions of the gods and goddesses.   

Collection of Metropolitan Museum of Art

A modern (1867) painting of Lady Lilith by Dante Gabriel  

Rossetti, who portrays her as a vain seductress and a 

demonic killer of children,

    Marmery gets it right. Remember: It's not the story, but she who tells it. Marmery tells this one well, and it's as accurate a version as any out there.

    The original has Lilith present at the creation in the Garden of Eden. She was created along with Adam, the first man. But Lilith refused to lie under Adam -- and had already eaten from the Tree of Knowledge -- and was banished. God then created Eve from a rib of Adam, making her his child and wife. Thus, Adam becomes the father of all mankind, turning biology on its head, and ushering in an era of patriarchy that erases the power of women. All children come from Adam -- the mothers, if they are even mentioned, are often unnamed.

    So in this tale, Lilith sets out to retore Asherah to her rightful place as the Queen of Heaven. As Lilith seeks to find her prophet, she lives through the flood, descends into Sheol (the Hebrew underworld) to claim her lost son, walks with Jezebel and Mary Magdalene,  and learns about Jesus. In all cases, the story is a wee bit different from what we now accept.   

    Lilith is a thoughtful, knowledgeable woman, not the evil harpy often depicted. (Indeed, she sometimes is portrayed as the banshee in Irish myth, who cries out at death, and is seen as a harbinger of doom.) 

    Yes, she does question and fight, and ultimately rejects Yahweh as a conniving, vindictive, and vain god. She defends women and their rights to seek pleasure in mind and body. She does so in an effort to seek wisdom, balance, harmony, and the divinity of women.