The Cold Millions by Jess Walter

Gig Dolan and his younger brother Rye will do anything to survive. As seasoned freight hoppers, they’ve traveled through most of the Pacific Northwest, and as of 1909, they have found a home of sorts in Spokane, where they will work any odd job that pays a pittance. “Home” is the enclosed back porch of a rooming house.

Spokane at this time is a city flush with change, with a cabal of rich men raking it in through mining, industry, and graft. The police force, led by the formidable John Sullivan, strikes a careful dance between maintaining the peace for the well-off, and keeping what they consider riff raff moving and gone. This includes union organizers.

Gig, ever the idealist, falls in with the Industrial Workers of the World, but their first attempt to organize a public speech in Spokane ends badly, when the police cart off hundreds of their supporters to jail, including Gig and Rye, who has decided to get involved against his brother’s wishes.

Through the grace of moneyed influence, Rye gets off easy, until he realizes who he is working with and what they expect from him. This is his first worry, that and getting his big brother released from jail. But labor organizing is still in Rye’s future, when he meets up with the young firebrand Elizabeth Gurley Flynn. They travel the breadth of Washington State and beyond to drum up support for the IWW, sometimes unwisely.

The Cold Millions weaves the strands of several storylines to recount a violent time over a hundred years ago, when the American West was a place of promise, if you were wily and aggressive enough, and the ones in control did their best to quash the influence of union groups, particularly the Wobblies, the nickname for members of the IWW.

(William Hicks, Information Services)

From These Broken Streets by Roland Merullo

In 1943, Naples was a city under occupation by the Germans, its buildings scarred by bombing, the population constantly under threat of starvation or Nazi brutality. There was still hope – the possibility of Allied liberation was a tantalizing idea – but the reality was that their occupiers cared little about the populace, and thought nothing about retaliating viciously when one of their own died.

People still got by through luck or faith, or both. Eventually, the heavy-handed occupation got to be too much, and Neapolitans of all types rose up against the Nazis, in what was called the Four Days of Naples, and expelled the Germans, shortly before the Allied forces made it to the city.

From These Broken Streets is a fictional retelling of this turbulent time, alternating characters through different chapters, all of them having some connection. The story begins with Armando, a street kid who is hired by a mobster to take a package to another neighborhood. We then learn the backstory of Walter Scholl, the head of command of the occupying army, as he plans the total submission of the Neapolitan people. The reader then meets Lucia, a secretary for the government, her boyfriend Giuseppe, an archivist who is creating an elaborate map detailing caches of weapons, Lucia’s father Aldo, who works for the Camorra for some things and is a hardened man, and Rita, who finds her spiritual strength through weekly visits to her brother who is a monk.

This large cast of characters could lead into confusion. In Merullo’s telling, he makes it work, and weaves all these storylines into a fine pageturner. Some connections here are completely coincidental, others ones that are long-running. Friendships are made, and the darkest of memories surface for some.

I’ve read a couple of previous books by this author, and didn’t really expect a war novel from him, but this book is a highly readable one.

(William Hicks, Information Services)

The Innocents by Michael Crummey

Evered and Ada Best live a primitive life on a spit of land on the northern Newfoundland coast, and are barely in touch with the outside world.

Their parents and infant sister died of a sickness within days of each other.  The parents’ bodies were claimed by the ever-changing North Atlantic; they buried their baby sister up the hill next to their garden plot.

Evered and Ada’s only options are making a scant living from fishing and farming their meager land holdings, using a few remembered skills passed down from their parents.  Their only other lifeline is the twice a year visitation of The Hope, a sailing ship where they barter their stores of salted cod for other household necessities.  Most years, they’re in debt to the ship master, a stern yet empathetic sort who is quizzical as to how the two survive on a yearly basis.

The rages of weather and sickness inflict them in nearly every season.  Their livelihood is dependent on fishing, but the ocean seems bound to take them at any time.  There is always a fear of injury or fever, of one or both of them laid up.

Ada and Evered are tough sorts, but as the title of the book suggests, innocent of the ways of the world beyond their windswept cove.  As they get older and gradually see more visitors, both of them exhibit a natural curiosity about the world beyond the cove, and discover themselves as changing individuals as they channel through young adulthood.  These things complicate their simple life and challenge their close relationship.

The Innocents is a beautifully written but dogged account of the roughness of life in an isolated region where coldness and death are constant companions.  The author also does not flinch from approaching touchy subjects such as childbirth and sexuality.

The dialect used between the two siblings is sometimes hard to understand, but I found this to be less of a quibble once the book got going.  I think that if you lived in relative isolation with another person for long stretches of time, you’d probably start developing your own modes of communication.

Even though it is not really stated in the book, I have to assume that the time period is the early 1800s, due to the heavy emphasis on sailing ships, and the weaponry mentioned in the book.

(William Hicks, Information Services)

 

 

 

Victoria by Daisy Goodwin

If you saw the Masterpiece presentation “Victoria” on PBS, as I did, I recommend that you also read this novel by the series’ screenwriter.  I wasn’t sure that I wanted to read it, since I already knew the story, but the novel, which gives deeper insights into the characters, fascinated me as much as the TV series did.

Most of us think of Queen Victoria as an elderly woman, but as this novel opens, she is a teenager, under the control of her mother and her mother’s adviser.  She sleeps on a cot near her mother’s bed and has never been alone in a room with a man.  Her mother does not even approve of her going up or down stairs without holding her governess’ hand.  She has learned that protesting is useless; all she can do is wait until her seriously ill uncle, the king, dies.  If she has reached her 18^th birthday by the time of his death, she will be queen – no regency required – and able to make decisions for herself.

That day comes, and she declares her independence by using her middle name, Victoria, instead of the name that she’s used since birth.  As a young, inexperienced queen, she makes mistakes and learns that not all of her subjects like her.  In fact, some consider her emotionally unstable and too inexperienced to rule.  However, the prime minister, Lord Melbourne, takes her under his wing, tutoring her in the role she must play.  Her relationship with this politician, old enough to be her father, becomes personal enough for some people to call her “Mrs. Melbourne.”

Then her cousin Albert comes from his home in Germany for a visit.  Will they marry, as their families think they should?  Victoria is determined that this will not happen; she met Albert three years earlier and declared him to be boring.  Reading about their visit will prove to be anything but boring, no matter how much or how little you know about Victoria’s life!

Goodwin, who has a history degree from Cambridge, has done extensive research and bases much of Victoria on the young queen’s diaries.

(Helen Snow, retired from Information Services)

The Other Einstein by Marie Benedict

This biographical novel tells the story of Mileva “Mitza” Maric, Albert Einstein’s first wife.  She was brilliant enough to earn admission in 1896 to the physics program at Swiss Federal Polytechnic in Zurich, where she was the only woman in her class and a classmate of Einstein’s.  She made friends with three young women who were students in other programs at the school.  They made a pact to remain single and devote themselves to their professions, since it was then very rare for a woman to combine marriage and family with a career.  This pact fell apart when Mitza married Einstein.

She dreamed of a marriage between equals who would work together on their scientific studies.  At times, she felt that she had achieved this dream, but eventually she came to feel more like Einstein’s servant than his wife.

I’ve never studied physics but did not find scientific knowledge necessary to enjoy reading about Mitza’s life.

Is the story true?  While the author read many books on her subject and drew on letters between Einstein and Mitza, as well as on Mitza’s letters to her friend Helene, she learned that two major areas of Mitza’s life remain mysteries.  Scientists do not agree on the role that Mitza, as Einstein’s wife and as a fellow physicist, probably played in his discoveries, and history does not record the fate of the oldest Einstein child, Lieserl.  In these parts of the story, the author had to decide what story line to take.

The Other Einstein introduces this little-known woman to modern readers.

(Helen Snow, retired from Information Services)

The Revenant by Michael Punke

While working as a trapper and guide for the Rocky Mountain Fur Company in 1823, frontiersman Hugh Glass is savagely mauled by a bear during a routine scouting mission for food.  Captain Henry, leader of the ill-fated expedition, reluctantly decides to leave the mortally wounded Glass behind in the care of two other trappers, John Fitzgerald and Jim Bridger, promising extra wages to them both if they will give Glass a proper burial after he inevitably dies.  Glass, however, stubbornly clings to life, much to the chagrin of the unscrupulous fugitive Fitzgerald who covets Glass’s possessions – particularly his Anstadt rifle – and is eager to catch up with the departed expedition.

When a hostile Native American tribe is spotted near the clearing where they are tending Glass, Fitzgerald seizes the opportunity to legitimately flee, convincing a hesitant Bridger that they must not only abandon Glass, but take all of his belongings with them as well if they hope to survive.  Glass helplessly witnesses this act of treachery and vows to take revenge on the pair, even though doing so requires him to not only recover from his wounds, but to somehow survive in the wilderness without flint, a knife, or his beloved rifle, and crawl hundreds of miles through only partially mapped territory.  Having already endured captivity on a pirate ship and a stint living among the Pawnee tribe, Glass is up for the challenge.

Michael Punke’s The Revenant, based on the true story of historical figure Hugh Glass, is subtitled “A Novel of Revenge”, but it would be more accurate to describe it as a novel of survival.  Page after page, Punke’s lean, sinewy prose details the bloodthirsty determination of various characters and the nascent industries which employ them to survive in hostile times, with “endurance” emerging as the book’s true theme.  Punke’s sparse style allows the story to almost tell itself, and his descriptions of the 19^th century American wilderness are a joy to read.  The action sequences are appropriately tense and engaging, while the infamous bear attack stands out as a gory highlight.

Problems only really arise when Punke attempts to set the historical stage in too-broad strokes (the quick history of the fur trade on page 38, for example, reads like a quote from a Wikipedia article), or decides to invent characters simply to pad out the story.  The group of French companions (especially the two brothers) whom Glass is paired with in Part 2 of the book are stereotypes lifted out of any action/war film from the last ten years and wholly remove the reader from the reality the author has worked so hard to create.  The ending is also problematic, but some readers might actually savor its absence of dramatic closure.

Overall, The Revenant is recommended reading.  And for those interested in a version of Glass’s story re-purposed as an epic tale of vengeance, seek out Alejandro González  Iñárritu’s bloody and absolutely gorgeous filmed adaptation of The Revenant, which takes generous liberties with its source material.

(Chris Fox, Central Library)

The Adventures of John Carson in Several Quarters of the World by Brian Doyle

Robert Louis Stevenson resided in San Francisco for a few months straddling the years 1879-1880, at which time he lived in the boarding house owned by Mary Carson.  There Stevenson recovered his health and awaited the finalization of a divorce between his fiancée  and her first husband.  His finances were meager, as Stevenson was at this time struggling to make a living as a writer.

During his stay, Stevenson was enthralled by the stories of Mary’s husband John, a former seamen who had traveled much of the globe.  Stevenson supposedly wanted to write a book about Mr. Carson’s experiences, and this book is an imagining of what Stevenson might have written.

The stories that John Carson tells are fanciful but possible, as far-flung as Borneo, the Canadian Northwest, Australia, and western Ireland.  He tells of stern tribal chieftains and noble shipmates, all with stories of their own.  The most intriguing story is about Carson’s encounter with a feral girl living in a deserted stone village; her future takes her far away from her solitary existence, and she and John are destined to meet again.

One might wonder what kind of influence Mr. Carson’s stories had on the future renderings of  Treasure Island or Kidnapped, or whether Stevenson chose his final home of Samoa, notwithstanding his health problems, as a nod to John Carson and his wanderings.

Brian Doyle is obviously a great admirer of Stevenson’s, and I think he got the rhythms of Stevenson’s prose fairly well.  Doyle’s lively descriptions of pre-1906 earthquake San Francisco the bring the city wonderfully alive; the town is practically a character itself.  The Adventures of John Carson… is also a deep study of the natures of connection and friendship.

The preface and afterword (and the Thanks & Notes!), although fairly brief, are rich in back story and recommendations for further reading.

(William Hicks, Information Services)

 

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

It is to be expected that a graveyard comes alive with ghosts at night-time.  One would imagine they congregate and converse in a social manner, and perhaps gossip about new arrivals.

This book expands on this idea, the setting being Oak Hill Cemetery in Georgetown in the year 1862.  It is the aftermath of  Abraham Lincoln’s son Willie’s death at the age of eleven.  Obviously, his parents were devastated.  The rumor was that President Lincoln would visit the crypt his son was interred in and actually remove the body from the coffin to mourn over.

The night time residents of Oak Hill take note of their human nocturnal visitor, as well as talk to the ghost of his son, who is bewildered as to why he can’t interact with his father.  And as Willie lingers here, in this purgatorial state or “bardo“, his soul is increasingly in peril, as the ectoplasmic denizens of Oak Hill experience in graphic detail, when they try to help Willie along the next leg of his journey – and find theirs as well.

A cast of dozens tell the tale here in Lincoln in the Bardo, a sad yet playful view of the afterlife.  The book alternates between events of the “real” world (White House parties, the Civil War, Willie’s sickness) and the drama of the spirit world, populated by dandies, preachers, slaves, miscreants, and others.  The narrative is fanciful and occasionally confusing, but let your mind go…well, back to the 1860s, put things in context, and the subject matter will make more sense.

(William Hicks, Information Services)

 

 

The Kingmaker’s Daughter by Philippa Gregory

If you enjoy the TV series “Game of Thrones,” you may like The Kingmaker’s Daughter, set during England’s War of the Roses, the historical period that’s most like the fantasy world of the series.  There are even online comparisons of the TV show’s Sansa Stark with the real-life woman who’s the main character of this book – Anne Neville, the wife of Richard III.

If you are familiar with Shakespeare’s play “Richard the Third,” you’ll find this portrayal of Richard much more favorable than Shakespeare’s.  Shakespeare followed the Tudor era’s view of Richard as a monster, blaming him for multiple murders, but Gregory’s Richard comes closer to the opinions of modern historians.

Anne was the daughter of the Earl of Warwick, a power behind the English throne in the 15^th century.  During the War of the Roses, many people changed their allegiances from one royal line, the Yorks, to the other, the Lancasters, or vice versa.  This was true of Warwick, whose goal was to put in power the king of his choice and to become his major adviser.  He used his daughters as pawns in his ambitious schemes.  When Anne was only fourteen years old, Warwick arranged her marriage to the Lancastrian heir.  After her husband’s death in battle, Anne married Richard.  Part of the plot involves the tale of the young princes in the Tower of London – their fate is, to this very day, a cold case!  Elizabeth Woodville, wife of King Edward IV, is also a character in the novel; contemporaries believed her to be a witch capable of causing storms and bringing death to her enemies by supernatural means.

This dramatic tale is a fascinating glimpse into English history, seen through the eyes of a queen.

(Helen Snow, retired from Information Services)

Sisi : Empress on Her Own by Allison Pataki

Most readers have probably never heard of Elisabeth, who married Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria in 1854.  I enjoy reading historical fiction about royalty and was delighted to discover a complex, fascinating character who was completely new to me.  Her story, according to the author, is “a fairy tale meets a Shakespearean tragedy meets a family soap opera meets an international saga.”  Elisabeth, known to her subjects as Sisi, was sixteen years old at the time of her arranged marriage.  Pataki’s novel The Accidental Empress tells the story of her earlier married life.  This novel that I read, Sisi, begins in 1868.  Disillusioned with her husband and with a life where protocol rules every move she makes, her controlling mother-in-law keeps her away from her children, and the press constantly criticizes her, she often leaves Vienna for long trips, accompanied by her fourth and last child, Valerie, and her attendants.  Away from the stifling court life, she enjoys long, hard horseback rides, as well as the freedom to spend time with her little girl.  She also finds men who are more suited to her than Franz Joseph is.

Pataki gives the reader a glimpse of Europe before World War I, in the era when Strauss composed his waltzes and Wagner his operas.  Sisi’s cousin, the mad king Ludwig of Bavaria, is a character in the novel, seen in some of its most dramatic scenes.  While the novel very briefly covers politics, there isn’t enough political history to become hard to understand – or boring.

While most readers probably will want to start by reading The Accidental Empress, I only knew about that novel after completing Sisi.  This book completely stands on its own.

Pataki, whose ancestors lived in Austria-Hungary, is a bestselling author.  She did a great deal of research, relies heavily on historical facts, and says that you can’t “make this stuff up.”

(Helen Snow, retired from Information Services)