Here Be Dragons by Sharon Kay Penman

I continue to be enthralled by Sharon Kay Penman’s works of historical fiction. Here Be Dragons is the first in the Welsh trilogy, and is concerned with 13th century Wales, the rule of Llewelyn Fawr (Llewelyn the Great) and his wife Joanna, bastard daughter of England’s King John. The book opens with Llewelyn at age 10, unhappy in his new status as stepson to an Englishman; his Welsh culture was drastically different from that of the nearby neighbor, and he found it difficult to assimilate. It only took a few years for him to go home to Wales and undertake to regain the crown that was rightfully his. One of the unique and questionable points of Welsh culture was that sons were expected to share their father’s property, rather than it all (unfairly) falling to the eldest son as in England. This most often resulted in fratricide, and family violence had previously cheated Llewelyn of his birthright to rule. Llewelyn went to war at 15, and won himself many decades of power in Wales, but almost constant conflict and challenges to his power, too. Alongside the story of young Llewelyn, we meet Joana, on her 5th birthday, living with her ostracized mother; her mother’s death just a few days later takes her to the court of her father, John, who eventually became king of England.

The book follows Joana and Llewelyn, their split loyalties, their many friends, relatives, and associates… and as always in Penman’s epic novels of British royal history, we’re treated to the tangled webs of intrigue, betrayal, and power struggles. One of the most powerful threads in this novel – arguably the dominant one – is the romance of Llewelyn and Joana’s marriage. I find myself most charmed by the threads of romance that Penman reliably delivers. I love the court dramas and the intrigue, but I love the romances, too. I’m not a reader of romance novels, and that’s not what this is; it’s so much more. The drama, the tragedy, the heartbreaking complications of family dynamics, the strained loyalties… this is truly a sweeping epic deserving of every minute of concentration it demands. I read these 700 pages in just over 2 days – while on break from work, yes, but given the time to devote to it, it was easy to do.

I find myself learning history from Penman somewhat. This is a slippery slope, to learn history from fiction, as I’ve discussed before. But if it’s ever permissible, Penman might be your author; she is very faithful to her extensive research, and her Author’s Notes at the back of each book offer good outlines of where fact meets fiction.

My first Penman read was The Reckoning, which happens to be the third in this Welsh trilogy. (Once I get through Falls the Shadow I’ll have to decide if I want to go back and reread The Reckoning yet again!) That’s where my fascination with Welsh culture, customs and language began. I am interested in traveling to Wales to explore what I’ve learned, but I’m also sorry to know that Llewelyn, alas, is long gone from our world! If you haven’t picked up Penman yet, I must say – do it now! And I’m off to pass this book on to Pops for his enjoyment.

The Home-Maker by Dorothy Canfield

homemakerOh my. This has got to be one of my top *five* books of the year. What a delight! I’m reeling! First I would like to thank Thomas at My Porch, again, for sending me this book along with the also-lovely Some Tame Gazelle. (This was because I have cute dogs. Lucky me!) Thank you, Thomas! You did so splendidly selecting books for me.

I have a lot to say about this book and will try not to be too long-winded.

The Home-Maker is the story of the Knapp family. The mother, Evangeline, is the home-maker – of course, because how else could it possibly be done? (This book was published in the 1920’s and seems to be set about then, too.) She is efficient and hardworking, and miserable; and her three children are miserable as well, and two of them physically ill. Her husband, Lester, is a lackluster breadwinner, also miserable. In an accident (or was it? read the book), Lester is paralyzed, and their world turns on its ear. Eva ends up going to work, and Lester staying at home to play Mr. Mom. And presto change-o, everyone blossoms! It’s lovely. Eva is fulfilled, challenged, in her element; she earns raises and promotions and everyone’s respect and appreciation. Lester gets to know his children, marvels at their youthful struggles, their individuality, their talents. He learns to cook, bake, and darn socks. And the children become healthy, rosy-cheeked, encouraged – and the troublemaker amongst them gazes adoringly up at his father. It’s remarkable, and heartwarming, and, gosh.

As a story of a family, it is engaging, droll, actually laugh-out-loud funny at times. As an instructive tale – which it obviously is – it is straightforward and sensible. Who could not agree that we should all do what we’re best at and enjoy, if we’re so lucky as to have those two things coincide with one another, and to have a family comprised of all the roles necessary for universal happiness? It’s almost so obvious as to be dull; but the sad trick is that even in 2011, when we congratulate ourselves for being enlightened on such topics as gender roles, we still need this book. I can only imagine that this book’s contemporaries felt their feathers ruffled; but surprisingly, the introduction of my Cassandra Edition claims, “very little of the criticism was harsh or outraged.” This edition also includes an article Canfield wrote for the Los Angeles Examiner on marital relations; it’s well worth reading, too, and succinctly echoes the novel’s point: do what you do best, and be happy. That’s a big duh, right? But again, I’m afraid we still don’t have it right!

For example, one point that SCREAMED off the page at me was the same set of ideas applied to the currently uproarious debate about gay marriage. Canfield actually does refer to “a man and a woman” several times, but I’m going to give her credit and believe that if she were writing today, she’d apply the same logic she did to hetero-marriage. Two people who love each other and want to make a family should do it in the way that takes the best advantage of everyone’s skills and passions and makes everyone happiest! To me, this is abundantly easy to understand, but alas, still, we have debate. Sigh. I’m not trying to have that debate here (rather because I don’t think it merits much discussion) but it was an obvious corollary of Canfield’s position here so I wanted to mention it.

For those who fear a heavy-handed instructive tone weighing down a lovely story, don’t. I’m sensitive to that fault, myself (okay, it was nonfiction, but I loved County while lamenting its overly-obvious point). But it’s not an issue here. Canfield is matter-of-fact in her portrayals; I think the strength of the “issues” at play here are that they’re too clear-cut to BE issues. Does that make sense? And the story itself is delightful. “Cosmic Stephen in his pink gingham rompers!”

I really enjoyed this as much as just about anything else I read this whole year. It’s the first to compete with Fire Season by Philip Connors, which I’ve been calling my #1 best of 2011. (Rather different books they are, too.) Thomas, you’ve done me a great service, and here, I’ll try to pass it on: the rest of you, go find The Home-Maker today.


BUT.


Here’s my one caution for seekers of the book. I appreciated that my Cassandra Edition included the newspaper article that I mentioned above, and it’s a nice edition all-around, but for a single glaring flaw: page 134 is followed by page 119, which then runs back up to 134 and then skips to 151. So while reading this book and really enjoying it, I was suddenly thwarted! The publisher (after some discussion of what might be a reasonable way to deal with this issue) promised to put another copy in the mail to me. So it’s a nice edition, but find yourself a different one! Perhaps I’ll be able to make a recommendation when my new copy arrives.

11/22/63 by Stephen King

Wow. What can I say? This book was a thrill, a wild joyride, emotional and tender, thoughtful, had me on the edge of my seat. I guess I’ve not bothered to seek out Stephen King (aside from one book I read for the horror section of my genre fiction class in grad school, From a Buick 8, and a short audiobook for a car trip, Stationary Bike) because I don’t have much use for horror; but of course he does more than horror, doesn’t he. There are reasons why he’s a mega-bestseller, and this book illustrates several of those reasons very well.

I’ll back up a bit and give you the premise. Jake Epping is an English teacher in small-town Maine in 2011. His alcoholic wife has just divorced him in favor of a man she met at AA meetings when Al, of the local Al’s Diner, calls him up. Al has aged 10 years overnight and is clearly dying, like right now, but how can this be when Jake just saw him yesterday looking healthy if chubby? We’re thrown into the weirdness immediately as Al sends Jake through his diner’s pantry, and through the rabbit hole, into 1958. This strange loophole through time always takes a visitor back to the same moment in 1958, and no matter how long one stays, he’s always gone just 2 minutes in 2011. Al has returned from 1962 with terminal cancer. He tried to make it to 1963 to stop the Kennedy assassination, thinking to prevent as well the assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King, the tragedy of the Vietnam War, and – why not? – all the bad since then, too. But now Al is out of the game, and with very little instruction, Jake is in it.

I’ll go ahead and tell you that Jake takes on the challenge, because I don’t feel it’s much of a spoiler. (This book runs over 800 pages; something had to happen.) But I won’t tell you much more. This is a suspenseful ride through time and history with the most serious of potential consequences. It’s awesome. Jake is an awfully likeable character, very human, fairly well developed, with good intentions but human weaknesses as well. There is definitely some humor in his preordained knowledge of the past; and before you go thinking he can see everything’s future as he travels through 1958, and onward, across the United States, remember (as Jake will remind us) that he’s an English teacher, not a history teacher. In particular, the regular people he meets are beyond his future-sight, as he didn’t study up on them beforehand. And it’s the little people, the regular folks he comes to know in the Land of Ago, that will turn out to be important to Jake. How could it not be so? He’s just a regular folk himself.

As my mother (who read this book first and prompted me to do so; thanks Mom) pointed out, King is not terribly poetic or lyrical in his writing style. (For the exception that proves the rule, see my recent Teaser Tuesday.) But not all books have to be poetic, and this one loses nothing for it’s more straightforward style. What King does right is build characters, make us care, paint the world of the late 50’s and early 60’s so completely that we taste and smell it. The storyline is fabulous, and this book is a page-turner; if only I had started it sooner during my week off work I might have tried to do it in one or two sittings!! As it was I stayed up past my bedtime on a work night to finish it.

The history and culture of the past is great fun; the characters are engaging; the action is suspenseful. This book is fun and exhilarating and I highly recommend it! Go ahead and add it to my Best of 2011 list. (See, I knew I was jumping the gun…)

The Drop by Michael Connelly

The latest suspenseful, dark, yet hopeful mystery starring the indomitable Harry Bosch.


In The Drop, Michael Connelly’s long-running protagonist, Det. Harry Bosch, faces end-of-career issues in the Los Angeles police department’s Open/Unsolved Unit. In one day, he gets two hits: a DNA match on a 21-year-old murder-rape case and an unexpected fresh body. The son of Councilman Irvin Irving–Bosch’s nemesis from previous novels in the 17-book series–has jumped or been dropped from his hotel balcony, and Irving inexplicably requests Bosch as investigator. It looks to be a case of “high jingo”–political complications threatening the quest for truth and justice to which Bosch is so committed.

As the Irving case gains momentum, the politics threaten to engulf an old friend and colleague, and Bosch may have no one left that he can trust. Meanwhile, logic contradicts fact as the blood found on the victim of the unsolved murder-rape belongs to a man who was eight years old at the time of the crime. Even Bosch’s new partner seems to be working against him. Worst of all, he begins to doubt his own abilities: is Bosch too old for the job?

Fans of Connelly’s series will exult in another round of Bosch-versus-the-world (and the LAPD); he exhibits all his old charms and skills, as well as tenderness towards his teenage daughter (who develops in her own right as a character). New readers will follow the action perfectly; The Drop can confidently stand alone. The evocation of the Los Angeles setting is lovely as usual, and the action’s crescendo hits all the right notes. Don’t take your eyes off Connelly yet–Bosch is ready to fight another round.


This review originally ran in the December 13, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Italian Racing Bicycles by Guido Rubino

A beautiful book of pictures and stories about everything related to the fine art of Italian race bikes.

Passionate fans of Italian bicycles, professional bicycle racing, the history of the sport and/or fine craftsmanship must add Italian Racing Bicycles to their collections. It’s not just about bicycles, as the title suggests, but about the companies that made (and still make) them and about the Italian cyclists who ride competitively. Top-of-the-line Italian bikes are works of art as well as masterpieces of function, and Guido Rubino considers 40 of the finest manufacturers: their histories, likely futures, personalities and history-making products. The indispensable Colnago, Campagnolo and Bianchi brands are covered, as are the men who originally bore those names. Racing greats such as Coppi, Pantani, Sarroni and Bartali, whose performances helped establish the legacies of these companies, receive well-deserved attention here as well (along with select non-Italians like Eddy Merckx). Plenty of beautiful pictures complete this lovely coffee-table book.


This review originally ran in the December 6, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty

A respectful and compelling salute to Medal of Honor winners through brief profiles and striking portraits.

Medal of Honor begins with a thoughtful, detailed yet succinct history of the Congressional Medal of Honor, providing an excellent introduction to the subject; later chapters include letters from every living U.S. president and short essays on wars from World War II through Afghanistan. But Peter Collier’s real achievement lies in the 144 profiles of Medal of Honor recipients, representing every branch of the military, accompanied by Nick Del Calzo’s stunningly beautiful photographic portraits. Collier’s profiles tell of the circumstances leading to each citation, along with details of the recipients’ lives that illuminate themes of humility, friendship and service. With one page devoted to each, Medal of Honor makes for easy coffee-table reading, and it’s tempting to read them all in one sitting. This incredibly touching commemoration transcends politics to celebrate the contributions of brave, and selfless individuals in simple, glowing stories.


This review originally ran in the December 6, 2011 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

Their Eyes Were Watching God Readalong, part 3

Today we’re finishing up a readalong, hosted by The Heroine’s Bookshelf, of Their Eyes Were Watching God. I’m discussing chapters 14-20 (please pop over to THB at the above link to join in). We recently discussed chapters 1-6 and chapters 7-13. Caution: spoilers follow.

A lot happened in the final third of the book! Janie and Tea Cake settled, at the end of part 2, in southern Florida, and many of us readers were concerned with Tea Cake’s reliability. Would he make a good man for Janie? Well, we see them continue to establish a life together, and Tea Cake did turn out to be a good man for Janie – at least in Janie’s eyes. I’m sure I’m not alone in being unhappy with him for being jealous, for flirting with Nunkie, and finally, for beating Janie. But she continues in her opinion that he’s perfectly wonderful, and I do see the good: he brought her a sense of adventure, a sense of community, someone and something to work for and feel good about. I guess I can’t begrudge her the happiness she found. Although the idea that Janie getting beat up “aroused a sort of envy in both men and women” is not one I appreciate.

And then the hurricane! My, but that was some action. Tea Cake and Janie choose to wait out the storm – in their little cabin right on Lake Okechobee – despite the animals and the Indians wisely taking off for higher ground. Their flight from the path of the storm – “de lake is comin’!” – is high drama. And it’s nice that almost none of Janie & Tea Cake’s friends lose their lives. I enjoyed this part quite a bit.

But the tragic ending… I recall that I wasn’t the only one concerned, from the beginning, that Tea Cake “left” Janie. But I guess we didn’t guess how he’d leave. That was high drama, too; I was moved by the courtroom scene, the insinuations that the jury was moved by Janie’s beauty, the insinuations of racism, and finally the transition from indignation to shame and apologetic acceptance on the part of Janie’s community. Tea Cake died as a result of saving Janie during the storm. I guess I have to retract some of my concern. Although beating her was still uncool.

The final scene wraps up Janie & Pheoby’s conversation, in some beautiful language. “Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.” Lovely.

I enjoyed this read, and I look forward to joining in the discussion (THB) today.

The Scroll by Grant R. Jeffrey

A fast-paced Christian-fiction-thriller involving international intrigue, archeology, and one man’s struggle with his own faith.

Dr. David Chambers is a world-class celebrity archeologist who has always specialized in scientific support for the Bible. But a crisis of faith has left him bitter, split from his former fiancé, Amber, and seeking a new area of study. So when an old friend and mentor requests his help on a new project, he wants to turn away; but a final expedition in biblical archeology is more than he can resist. This new project will make all his past accomplishments pale: there is unimaginable treasure to be found, and even more importantly, temple artifacts thrilling and useful to those who still believe. Surrounded by colleagues, professional rivals, estranged old friends, and Amber herself, David undertakes one final assignment in Jerusalem. The question of the Bible as historical fact is at risk, as are all David’s most valued relationships, including that with his God.

But then unknown forces come into play in a series of violent attacks, and it becomes clear that there is more at stake than David’s personal life and religion. The dig becomes an undertaking of international significance, with the world’s Muslim and Jewish powers struggling for control. Will David find the answers? Regain his faith? Will he survive this mission?

Jeffrey & Gansky have created an engrossing thriller that offers notes of interest in the field of archeology and special focus on love and relationships, and most importantly, relationships with God. If you can overlook that Muslims are generally depicted in a less-than-favorable light, this is a page-turner.


I wrote this review for Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Further feedback: I am not a fan of Christian fiction, mostly because I’m not a Christian. Most of the genre seems to require that of its readers, for fine writing, perfectly wrought plots, literary triumphs in general are rare; generally what Christian fiction seems to have to offer is a comforting reassurance of faith. The Scroll was somewhat unique in being a page-turning mystery, and I found it more palatable than those saccharine Christian romance novels. But there were still some strains on my credibility and most damning of all (no pun intended) was the unsympathetic treatment of the main Muslim character. That was just too obvious, easy, and stereotyped; no points given.

The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon Kay Penman

This is Sharon Kay Penman’s first novel, although not the first of hers that I’ve read. I think she did an amazing job with her debut novel.

This is the fictionalized life of King Richard III of England, whose brief reign from 1483-85 ended with his death on the battlefield. We meet Richard – Dickon to his family and close friends – at age six, playing in the woods with his idolized oldest brother, Edward or Ned, under the rule of King Harry of Lancaster. Harry’s queen, Marguerite d’Anjou, refuses to trust the Duke of York, Dickon and Ned’s father; her unrest leads to a war in which Dickon loses a brother and his father, and Ned is crowned king. King Edward and his unpopular Queen Elizabeth rule for 22 years, with constant rebellions and threats to his leadership, the ongoing War of the Roses raging between the houses of York and Lancaster. During this time, Dickon is Edward’s most trusted friend, advisor, and military commander. Upon Edward’s sudden death, he requests that Dickon safeguard his minor son’s position as heir to the throne, which Dickon is happy to do. But the philandering Edward’s engagement to another woman prior to marrying Elizabeth is made known, thus (under the laws of the time) making his marriage null, his children illegitimate, and his son no proper heir at all. At this point Dickon is crowned King Richard III, although not without misgivings. We then anxiously attend Dickon’s disturbed and brief reign, still beset by betrayals and treachery, treason and rebellion, until he dies in battle.

Richard III is also the king whose two boy-nephews, “the princes in the tower,” disappeared during their imprisonment under his rule and are understood to have been killed. (These are Edward’s sons, the elder being the intended heir to the throne.) History has tended to hold Richard responsible for killing the boys, possible threats to his throne. But as Josephine Tey did in her Daughter of Time, Penman presents a different story, one that has Richard innocent of their murders and regretful of their loss. I think she does a fine job supporting this theory – and of course this is fiction, remember, we still don’t know what happened to them! – and within her story, Richard is a virtuous and upstanding man who would never have done such a thing. In this question, as in so many details of her stories large and small, Penman explains her decisions (and tells exactly where history ends and fiction begins) in the author’s note at the back of the book. (Attention to historical accuracy and an explanation of where she began to embellish are several of the most important strengths to Penman’s work, in my opinion.)

The action of the book covers less than thirty years, but in great detail. We get to know intimately not only Richard and his siblings, but their mother, and the reviled Elizabeth and her daughters, and various friends and attendants. Richard is raised alongside his cousin, daughter of the treasonous Earl of Warwick, Anne Neville, and their youthful expectation of marriage is finally fulfilled after many hardships (including Anne’s forced marriage to another ill-fated challenger to the crown). Anne & Richard’s love story is one of the uniting threads of this books, heartbreaking and touching and sweet and sad. (I am noticing that Penman is reliable in including deeply satisfying, fully-wrought romances within her novels.) The story of Bess, the eldest of Edward & Elizabeth’s children, is another sad and romantic tale.

The sketching out of so many individual characters, even some rather minor ones, is another of Penman’s strengths. I loved Francis and Veronique very much.

At over 900 pages, this read does require some commitment; but it’s amazing how easy it is to get lost in it and watch those pages fall away. Don’t be afraid of the page count. Penman really creates a world and draws us in; we love her characters (and dare I say hate some of them too!) and it becomes difficult to put this book down. I very highly recommend this and everything Penman has written, and I think there’s a fair chance I’m going to jump straight into Here Be Dragons!

Black Mask (audio)

Classic hard-boiled crime stories from the historic and genre-defining pulp magazine Black Mask, in a beautifully performed audio collection.


Black Mask magazine (1920-1951) was a defining force in the pulp-magazine genre of hard-boiled detective stories, and this collection offers five representative pieces for the first time in the audio format. The excellent spoken performances are a rare treat, especially when finding stories of this vintage is in itself a challenge. The masters of the genre are represented in this collection, including Dashiell Hammett, under a pseudonym. Don’t skip the introduction, either: it’s a worthwhile and informative history of pulp magazines, the detective/crime genre, a number of classic authors, and Black Mask in particular. Each story has its own short introduction as well, adding to the value of the collection.

“The Phantom Crook” takes on organized crime in order to free a damsel in distress from blackmail. A case of arson and apparent murder is not what it appears. Another blackmail case threatens to take advantage of a well-meaning but bad-tempered newspaper photographer. A drunken reporter tails a detective into a warehouse district in pursuit of a crook. And in the final tale, a Florida private investigator named Sail, working off his boat, investigates a case of sunken treasure while the bodies stack up. In each story, the gritty, taut suspense is reinforced by an appropriately gruff audio performance.

Black Mask has released a total of three collections of short stories. The following two promise more of the same: dark, suspenseful, character-rich crime drama. Readers of the modern hard-boiled detective/P.I. genre owe it to themselves to check out their roots in these fine examples of detective-noir classics.


I wrote this review for Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!