The Age of Mirth by Edith Wharton

I have been wanting to read The Age of Mirth by Edith Wharton for forever. But I could never seem to get my hands on it. Finally, I got a copy from the Wake County Library. Hallelujah! It's fantastic!

Wharton tells the story of Lily Bart, a beautiful, yet poor, member of New York's upper crust in the late 19th century. Her father died, leaving she and her mother in debt. Before she died, her mother impressed upon Lily the absolute necessity of  using her looks to cement a place in society. Realizing she has just one shot to use her only currency, Lily lets a few opportunities slip away as she watches much plainer women marry into comfort. 

The book opens in her 29th year. Time is getting short. She has confided in her friend Lawrence Selden that she has set her sights on Percy Gryce. His obsession with "Americana" and his puritanical instincts notwithstanding, he is rich enough and Lily feels confident she can snag him. Selden, who is only middle class himself, but manages to live an "amphibious" existence in both worlds, chides Lily for her materialistic attitude. She makes it clear to Lawrence that men have far more options than women do. She must parlay her looks into a suitable marriage if she wants any kind of stable life. It's clear that Lawrence would marry her, but she leaves him no hope as he simply cannot cement her place in high society. 

Unfortunately, Percy is not so easily caught and the games Lily plays to pique his interest backfire. Eventually he announces his engagement to another wealthy socialite. 

Despite her very limited funds, Lily has insisted on keeping up appearances. But after Percy's departure, she takes a hard look at her finances. The husband of her best friend, Gus Tenor, offers to "invest" her meager savings, saying he gets "tips" from the barely tolerated, rich, Jewish banker Sim Rosedale. He quickly turns her mere hundreds of dollars into thousands. Lily, feeling confident that she has found the secret to economic freedom, carelessly spends almost all the money immediately. Once the money is gone, her source, Trenor, makes clear that the money was his and she "owes" him for his trouble. Aghast, she races off with a "frenemy" on a months-long cruise of the Mediterranean. Meanwhile, rumors swirl about her involvment with Trenor.

Although she is a hit in Europe, it becomes apparent that she was only invited to distract her friend's husband while she pursues an affair with another guest. Once she is discovered, she turns the tables and accuses Lily of having an affair with her husband. Since Lily will not accept the husband should he leave his wife, he feels he must return to his wife and accept the libel on Lily. This new tawdry rumor, combined with the prior allegations, make it back to the aunt who has supported Lily since her mother's death. The news apparently kills her, but not before she disinherits Lily. 

Lily returns from Europe, having lost all her friends due to the rumors and all her expectations due to being written out of the will. All she can expect is enough to pay back her original debt to Trenor. But that will take a year to go through probate. In the meantime, she relies on Lawrence and his poor relation, Gertie for survival. She finds work (barely) and moves to a boarding house. But her health suffers and she experiences night after night of sleeplessness. 

She has one opportunity in which to recapture it all, but it involves an act she considers immoral; she can blackmail her "frenemy" and mary Sim Rosedale. In a final display of determination, she destroys the incriminating evidence. She visits Lawrence, convinced that she has thrown away all hope of his love. And she goes home. 

I'll end the summary here. It's too sad. I hate that it ended the way it did. 

It seems that Wharton considered, and then abandoned, the idea that people can live lives of contentment far from the spotlight of "society." We do it everyday. But the book is not about how to live a contented life, it's about the false temptation of a "life worth living." She demolishes that, kind of. Although Lily won't resurrect her former life using immoral (or that immoral) means, we sense she would welcome it back if it was handed to her. She never quite seems to get it. Lawrence has been preaching it (sort of), and she seems to realize that, but in the end, she is incapable of "settling" for a merely happy life. She is stuck. She is an ornamental creature created for one purpose: to look good and attract a man to establish her in society. Maybe that is Wharton's point. Wharton gets it. It's just that Lily (nor anyone else in the story) never quite does. What a tragedy.

Rebel by Bernard Cornwell

One of my favorite historical fiction authors is Bernard Cornwell, so I decided to jump into his Nathaniel Starbuck Chronicles with Rebel, which takes place during the Civil War.

It's an easy read about an unlikely confederate: Nathaniel Starbuck is the son of a Northern abolitionist preacher. Although he was destined for the ministry himself, Starbuck makes a series of bad choices that land him desperate and destitute in Virginia just as Fort Sumter is fired upon. 

He must choose a side. 

And as so often happens, that choice depends on a girl. 

Once he has chosen to abandon his family and his family's values, he leads a ragtag, amateur bunch of hopped up Virginians in the Battle of Bull Run... where they flee in defeat. But that battle is just beginning and Starbuck will live to see the Southeventually defeat the North soundly in that first major battle. 

Now I have to read the next one!

At first, I was a bit disappointed that Starbuck saw his religious family and its values as worthy of rejection. Obviously, I heartily disagree. I also don't love that he's fighting for slavery and the right to own people. 

But it's Cornwell. I think he relishes making religion, specifically Christianity, look hypocritical and soul-crushing. It's more fun to rebel against the True, Good, and Beautiful. I should have expected nothing less. In Cornwell's world up is down and good is bad and morality is how you define it. I guess that works in fiction, but I know enough to know it's a fools errand. 

But it is awfully fun to read and to relive history that way!

 

George Washington's Secret Six by Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger

A good friend saw this book at a thrift store and thought of me: George Washington's Secret Six by Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger. I'm glad she did. 

I was familiar with story, especially after watching the show Turn, but reading about it was fun.

It tells the harrowing story of six people, centered around Abraham Woodhull (aka Samuel Culper), who smuggle information about New York city to Washington. It's obviously a dangerous job as Nathan Hale had already been hung after being caught as a spy. 

The ring involves Woodhull, a neighbor and tavern owner Austin Roe, printer and coffee shop owner, James Rivington, river boat pilot, Caleb Brewster, shopkeeper Robert Townsend, and the mysterious female agent, 355. All would collect information and add whatever they could as the correspondence made its way to Washington. 

They specifically noticed troop movements and the location and type of military equipment located in and around Manhattan. They were instrumental in diverting attention when the French entered the war on the American side, as well as alerting Washington to the British plans in regards to the French. 

Unfortunately, by its very nature, the spies were accorded little affirmation after the war was won. Some, like James Rivington suffered harm. Being thought of as a staunch loyalist, his cultivated persona, his newspaper suffered and he ended up in debtors prison. Others simply disappeared into the sands of time until discovered years later. We still don't know, and probably never will, who Agent 355 is. She probably died in, or at least was captured and sent to, a hellish prison ship. 

We certainly owe these patriots a debt of honor.

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Our book club chose to read Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. We had previously read The Remains of the Day, a Downton Abbey-type book, and I expected this to be no different. I was wrong.

This book is slightly dystopian, I suppose. It seems to be set in the near future where children are "lifted" -- that is genetically improved -- and seem to have lost interpersonal skills in the process. AI and robots have been melded into Artificial Friends (AF) to fill this void. 

Klara is an AF and the narrator of the tale. As such, she's an obviously unreliable narrator. She is learning and discovering the world for herself throughout, and so we discover it with her. 

Klara's story begins in the store where she lives with other AFs and Manager, who is "raising" her. Eventually she is bought by Josie's mother and brought to their home. All thoughts of prior friends and even Manager fade into the background as Klara adjusts to her new life. 

It become clear relatively early that Josie has a medical condition that may very well prove fatal. It is through Klara's limited understanding that we seem to find out the condition is the result of the lifting, but that Josie's mom would have chosen to lift her regardless. Strange. In fact, we eventually discover that Klara is being groomed to replace Josie should she die.

And this seems to be a real possibility. 

But... Klara fervently wishes to avoid this outcome, not for her own sake, but because she (alone, maybe?) seems to realize that Josie cannot be simply duplicated. She wants the real Josie to live and to experience a full life. So Klara, who seems to be solar powered, turns to the Sun to make a bargain: heal Josie and Klara will destroy a pollution-generating machine. Of course, once Klara destroys the machine and realizes that it was only one of many such machines, she believes she has failed. In desperation, she asks the Sun to heal Josie because of the great love Josie and her boyfriend, Rick, have for each other. 

For a while, Klara's prayers(?) do not appear to be answered as she would like, but eventually the Sun and his healing rays, shine brilliantly on Josie. She is healed and her life moves on as hoped, even as Rick fades from importance to her. Klara seems to come to believe that the Sun healed Josie, not because of a bargain or even because of her love for Rick, but simply because the Sun chose to do so out of goodness. 

Once Josie heads off to college, her need for an AF seems to disappear. So Klara is forgotten in a closet and eventually shipped off to the dump. Here she will quietly "fade" while reliving her memories. 

I told my book club, "I need you to tell me what I think about this book." I felt lost. The book club helped clear up some confusion, but I guess I still didn't "get it." The books own jacket says that it seeks to "explore a fundamental question: what does it mean to love?" I guess. I mean the mom loved both her daughters -- Josie and her older sister, Sal, who had already died as a result of the lifting -- yet made the same choice for Josie. Dad loves Josie and isn't convinced that an AF can actually replace her, but he's willing to give it a shot. Rick loves Josie and Josie loves Rick, but it turns out that it's just garden-variety teenage infatuation. Klara seems to genuinely love Josie and even sacrifices a great deal to destroy the pollution-inducing machine. In fact, only the robot seems capable of genuine, sacrificial love. But it is not returned. At all. 

Maybe the point is that as we become more technologically advanced, we become less human and the machines become more human? Maybe. Perhaps Ishiguro is warning us that we are losing our humanity, but humanity will out, somewhere, somehow? I don't know. 

And what's the deal with the Sun? Is it a fill in for God? No one else prays except for Klara. And her prayers are answered in a magnificent way. Are we being reminded that we need God and if humans lose that connection, robots, in sheer desperation, will reestablish it? I don't know. 

And why is Klara simply allowed to fade? She is literally a member of the family and then...garbage. It's kind of a reverse Velveteen Rabbit. Again, is this an indictment on humanity? Or is it Ishiguro's way of reminding us that Klara is not actually human and is in fact simply a piece of technology, so it's ok? I don't know. 

Ishiguro raises a lot of interesting questions in our age of heightened technological feats. Genetic engineering? Good or bad? AI? Good or bad? Urban infrastructure? Good or bad? Human souls? Real or imagined? Love? Sacrificial or transactional? God? Present or not? But I'm not sure if he answers the questions. He leaves a lot of ambiguity, and not in a good way. 

It is a somewhat easy read, although the ignorance of the narrator can make it tough at times to understand what is going on. Klara is delightful, but I also know that the way of Artificial Friends leads to death! 

The American Spirit by David McCullough

I bought The American Spirit by David McCullough while visiting a charming bookstore in the historic town of Hillsborough. McCullough is one of my favorite historians and this small paperback seemed approachable. I didn't realize it's simply a collection of speeches he has given over the years. Once I read the first one, I lost interest. It seemed too different from my expectations. But finally, I picked it up and read the rest. In one day. It's that good and that easy to lose yourself in. 

Each speech is a delightful slice of American History, tailored to the local audience. We meet interesting Americans and recall events organized around whatever theme upon which McCullough has chosen to focus. Each is only a few pages long, so it is easy to think, "Just one more." (Which I did until I finished them all!)

My favorite was a speech delivered at Hillsdale College in 2005 (probably not a coincidence, but in fairness, it was really good!), titled, "Knowing Who We Are." He uses the example of the Adams family, John, Abigail, and John Quincy to remind all of us the beautiful inheritance we've been gifted. I love Abigail's admonition to her son upon hearing that he has become a little too big for his britches after being given every advantage: 

"If you are conscious to yourself that you possess more knowledge upon some subjects than others of your standing, reflect that you have had greater opportunities of seeing the world and obtaining knowledge of mankind than any of your contemporaries. That you have never wanted a book, but it has been supplied to you. That your whole time has been spent in the company of men of literature and science. How unpardonable would it have been in you to have turned out a blockhead (p. 118). 

If I ever give a commencement speech of my own, I want to use this! I love this woman!

Despite my initial reticence, McCullough does not disappoint!

The Great Contradiction by Joseph J. Ellis

I seem to be on a Joseph Ellis kick. He's quickly becoming a favorite American historian. The Great Contradiction by Joseph J. Ellis dives into the two great missed opportunities at our country's founding: slavery and the treatment of Native Americans. 

He begins with the great conundrum faced by the Founders. Slavery was already entrenched and yet they had declared "All men are created equal." For the time being, it was enough to assume that meant each colonist was equal to the King. But in the back of their minds, they knew this could equally be applied to the slave. The immovable wall they faced was the how. The North began emancipation immediately in one form or another, but the South saw slavery as too entrenched. Fearing a decimated economy, and naturally suspicious of the other states, the South stood absolutely opposed to any movement away from slavery as a legal and recognized institution. 

Benjamin Franklin's Pennsylvania Abolition Society brought the issue to the first Congress to debate. Clearly the Founding generation knew this was a contradiction and many felt the sooner it was dealt with, the better. But the better angels making the case for freedom were silenced by a recalcitrant South. Not only was emancipation off the table, the first Congress decided to table the issue... indefinitely. They saw it as too inherently destabilizing. We need to remember how fragile The United States actually was. In truth, the colonies only united to defeat the British. That accomplished, they reverted to thirteen independent states, with little to no regard for a central national government. Like their European forebears, they squabbled and threatened each other. It was easy to envision one or more enlisting the help of European allies to declare war on another state. A complete lack of a functioning national government meant the union was helpless to defend itself. A nation not united would easily fall victim to any enterprising power with the patience to wait (see: War of 1812). Demonstrating the most human of all characteristics, they put the matter off for another day, hoping that the future would provide a way out they could not fathom. 

Recalling various missed opportunities, Ellis describes what he terms, "Unpainted Pictures." He begins with the number of African Americans who served in the fight for Independence. This provides a never-realized glimpse of what America could have become, a bi-racial nation embracing equality of all. The geography of the battle, however, worked against this vision. Most of the battle occurred in the North where few slaves lived, and therefore their service and possible emancipation were less threatening. The British had offered freedom to any slaves in the South that joined their ranks. Thousands fled. (Sadly, most of these died of diseases from which they had no immunity.) This meant the South spent their time fighting fleeing slaves rather than welcoming them into the fight against the British. Ellis seems to feel this was the biggest missed opportunity of them all. "The Cause," that is the fight for freedom and equality, was permeating the colonies. During the war, with all its exigencies, they had a chance to rectify a situation handed them by History. But despite the favorable winds, they simply could not overcome the status quo. Although fighting under the banner of The United States, each state felt the fight was for their own individual independence. Therefore any kind of national policy concerning slavery was impossible to pursue, despite the obvious benefits to The Cause.

The second area of contradiction was the treatment of the Native Americans. The Treaty of Paris, signed after the British defeat, gave large swathes of land to the newly formed United States. This effectively handed them areas previously claimed by the natives. America largely chose to treat the Indians, therefore, as a "conquered" people, although they had not, in fact, been conquered, and had not signed the treaty between the U.S. and Britain. While the newly formed American government debated how best to approach obvious conflicts over land, the new Americans took matters into their own hands. They poured into the newly won Western lands faster than the national government could create and enforce policies. One treaty that could have given the Native Americans most of Georgia, Mississippi, and Alabama was undermined by Georgia's state government. Not wanting to lose half of their territory, they encouraged white settlers to flood over the borders. Although the government of the United States had promised to enforce that border, the idea of going to war with its own citizen proved too preposterous to even contemplate. Besides, America had no army capable of protecting a border of the size promised anyways. Indian policy quickly became a loosing battle when faced with the insatiable desire for land from the white settlers.  

Ellis closes with a touching "Unpainted Picture" from Mount Vernon and Monticello. Both Washington and Jefferson saw the contradictions they inherited. Washington chose to free his slaves upon his death, and Martha, fearing an insurrection from her family slaves freed hers as well at that time. Interestingly, Washington divided Mount Vernon among his five inheritors, thus seeming to ensure the negation of Mount Vernon as place locked in time, forever identifying Washington as a slave-owning southern planter. He appears to have wanted a legacy centered around his contributions to the American project to define him. Shortly before the Civil War, however, a group of southern women bought up the property and restored the legacy Washington, himself, seemed to want to bury. 

Jefferson, deeply in debt, had no such luxury available to him. In fact, he did not actually own his slaves, his creditors did. They were sold along with all his possessions when he died. While he saw the contradiction between his immortal words and his life, his inability to resolve that contradiction seems, unlike Washington, to have entrenched his Southern Plantation Owner identity. Even Monticello became a picture of that contradiction: dark-skinned slaves were hidden from the view of visitors; light-skinned slaves, many related to the Jefferson family, populated the mansion. Jefferson became convinced that a bi- or multi-racial society was impossible (despite the fact that he lived it day after day in his own home). Back of the napkin calculations for removing the African Americans to Africa or even much farther West revealed the hopelessness of that remedy. If the most enlightened mind of the early 19th century could not discover a way out of the contradiction, many believed it must, therefore, be a truly impossible situation. 

Ellis does a beautiful job telling the story of the great contradictions at the heart of the American Experiment from the inside. We are left time and again wishing History could have proceeded in a different manner, yet time and again coming up against the hard wall of reality. While a few missed opportunities existed, the obstacles to living up to our ideals so early in The Experiment prove insurmountable. If the most educated and enlightened minds, those most familiar with the contingencies of their times, could not see a way through, we fool ourselves if we believe we could have done better. Ellis is both condemnatory and sympathetic. We, two and half centuries later, as least have the consolation of knowing that The Cause continued to inspire Americans to fight for the realization of our Founding principles. We continue to fight for them today. 

Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

I've been wanting to read 
Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton for a long tine. A wonderful friend found it at a used bookstore and picked up a copy for me! What a delight!

It's set in the 1870s as New York is undergoing significant social and economic changes. Wharton follows the life of young Newland Archer, who is marrying into the top of the food chain. At the same time as he becomes engaged, an exotic cousin of his fiancee returns to America following a failed marriage to a Polish count. To make her feel welcomed and to give her the social acceptance of highly ranked families, his engagement to May is quickly made public. 

From this point forward, Newland finds himself in the role of cousin Ellen's protector. As can be assumed, Newland finds himself drawn to the unconventional ways and thinking she represents. He begins to see his upcoming marriage to May as a trap to conventionality and duty. Ellen, herself, recognizes and returns his feelings, but she always puts May first and encourages Newland to keep his promise and fulfill his duty.

For all May's portrayal as innocent and naive, she seems to be constantly one step ahead of Newland and his attempts to change the trajectory of his life. May, with a shocking amount of plausible deniability, will get her man. 

Although Wharton, herself, seems to have lived the life of cousin Ellen and eschewed traditional strictures, she seems to land the book with a defense of the traditional and the requirements of duty. Newland and May experience a long and happy marriage. Finally given a chance to reunite with Ellen after May's death, Newland recognizes that his feeling were probably always a fantasy built up in his mind. He loves the version of the life he could have had with Ellen more than Ellen. And his life with May was actually quite sweet and fulfilling.

The book ends with the next generation and the changes that were predicted have begun to occur. Newland's type of life and the responsibility he felt to uphold the traditions are quickly fading into the background. Although his children will not be burdened by the expectations he experienced, we get a sense that maybe something is being lost. 

It's a beautiful book that explores some timeless themes. I love that it lands (mostly) on the sanctity of duty and tradition. As a conservative, I believe we have inherited wisdom in our traditions that may not be obvious to subsequent generations. Certainly Newland chafed against them. But in the end, he was happy with the life handed to him. Wharton leaves us little evidence that had he abandoned his responsibilities and expectations to live a life with Ellen he would have found the happiness he assumed awaited him. Even Ellen seems to recognize this when she asks him in what country would that happiness be found. Being far more experienced, traveled, and cosmopolitan than he, she knows of what she speaks. More often than not, I believe doing the "right" thing is what will bring ultimate happiness.

Bad Therapy by Abigail Shrier

I was at Chandler's house when I saw this book on her shelf. I love Abigail Shrier and so I asked if I could borrow it. Turns out I bought it for her in the first place! I cannot say enough for Bad Therapy by Abigail Shrier. Anyone who knows a child, has a child, or was a child needs to read this book. Although I really liked her conclusions, the sheer scope and scale of the problem depresses me. It's a behemoth. 

She starts with therapy itself. Shrier quite persuasively makes the case that therapy, the way it is done today, is actually iatrogenic, that is it harms more than helps. In this section she outlines exactly what "Bad Therapy" is:

"What does bad therapy look like, I wondered. If a sadist wanted to induce anxiety, depression, a feeling of incapacity, or family estrangement, what sort of methods would she employ? How would a malevolent mastermind induct a generation into a tyranny of feelings? Like this.

1. Teach Kids to Pay Close Attention to their Feelings...

2. Induce Rumination...

3. Make 'Happiness a Goal but Reward Emotional Suffering...'

4. Affirm and Accommodate Kids' Worries...

5. Monitor, Monitor, Monitor...

6. Dispense Diagnoses Liberally...

7. Drug 'Em...

8. Encourage Kids to Share Their 'Trauma'...

9. Encourage Young Adults to Break Contact with 'Toxic' Family...

10. Create Treatment Dependency..." (p. 42-63). 

We have created hypochondriacs who experience the same pain as everyone else, except they fixate on every sign or symptom. They make themselves sicker by worrying about getting sick.

In the next section, "Therapy Goes Airborne," she discusses the ways in which Bad Therapy has migrated into the schools. This is the most depressing part because there are literally millions of teachers, almost none of whom are trained therapists. If they were, they would have to follow the ethical guidelines and best practices of therapy. Even though therapy has a lot of problems, they can fix them as a licensed group and hold their members accountable. But they hold no sway over teachers. And teachers are an ornery bunch, much like herding cats. Many simply are not that smart and whatever sounds good is taken as gospel truth. Even the smart ones are not reading the latest studies and diving deep into the latest conversations on the best way to help children struggling with mental health. It's like giving teachers access to the latest in chemotherapy treatments and so, "just in case," they administer a small dose to each student every day. Here's where the iatrogenesis leaps into the general population. 

In the classroom, it starts with "Social-Emotional Learning." This is the latest fad and every teacher from kindergarten on up is asked to evaluate their students social and emotional "temperature." This can be emotional check-ins where students are asked daily how they are doing. Often, one student's sadness can infect the entire class and an emotive, therapeutic trauma session ensues. Much crying and flagellation are signs of a good check-in despite the complete lack of academic purpose or even therapeutic progress. These amateur group therapy sessions teach students that they are emotionally fragile and probably broken. Students are then coddled and those from the most disadvantaged backgrounds lose out the most. Rather than being held to high standards and given the tools needed to better their situation, the students are excused, accommodated, and unmotivated to succeed. Schools are on the hunt for trauma and it's surprisingly easy to find. Figuring different traumas stack up and believing "the body keeps the score" (a debunked, but highly popular theory), the children are poked and prodded until the slightest trauma can be unearthed and "dealt with" whether or not parents agree to any of this. In fact, since most of the trauma is apparently a result of parental action, it's best to keep parents out altogether. Therefore the students are endlessly surveyed and inculcated with the idea that something is wrong with them. Their teacher and school counselor just need to figure out what. 

Not only is all this poking and prodding hurting the students and introducing trauma where none existed, it has led to a type of toxic empathy. Anyone, anywhere can claim to feel "unsafe" and she is automatically the victim. Regardless of the motives or even the actions of the "perpetrator," all empathy channels toward the aggrieved. This has led, apparently with no recognition of the irony, to the most bullying of environments. Shrier calls this "The Tattletale Generation." Victims are virtuous and the perpetrators beyond the pale and without redemption. This simultaneously reinforces the victim narrative and introduces new "trauma" to the "perpetrator."

In exasperation, Shrier asks, "Who raised these children?" She answers her own question with "Gentle Parents." This is the other side of the coin where the teachers playing therapist are one side and the parents playing therapist are the other. Rather than a simple (and time-tested) "Knock it off," children are indulged and analyzed and their feelings held up for endless examination. This has produced a generation of tiny tyrants who scare their parents. In our desire to avoid becoming authoritarian parents, we have neglected to be authoritative parents. But something has to keep these tiny tyrants under control. So we turn to drugs. Shrier has a lot to say on the drugging of our children that has replaced old-fashioned discipline. TL;DR: She's against it.

Finally, in the last section, Shrier proclaims, "Maybe There's Nothing Wrong with Our Kids." She advocates that parents disregard the "experts" and allow their children to be children. When they mess up, discipline them. Provide them with love and independence. Don't coddle them but encourage resilience. Invite extended family to speak into their lives. Don't treat your child as the center of the universe, to the detriment of all others. 

She ends with, "Remove the [harmful interventions]: the technology, the hovering, the monitoring, the constant doubt. The diagnosing of ordinary behaviors as pathological. The psychiatric medications you aren't convinced your child needs. The expert evaluations. Banish from their lives everyone with the tendency to treat our children as disordered. You don't need them." (p. 250)

I think she's right.

The Remembered Soldier by Anjet Daanje

Our book club always chooses from among several possible reads. I decided to also read the ones that didn't make the cut if possible. One that didn't was The Remembered Soldier by Anjet Daanje. Oh my goodness. I don't remember what we read instead, but I am so glad a read this book as well.

The book is about a man, named Noon at the beginning, who fought in World War I, but has lost his memory. He has spent the four years following the war in an asylum while waiting to be found by his family. Every woman he meets, desperate to believe he is her long-lost husband, fills him with so much angst at their disappointment, that he demands to be left alone. But one woman would not be denied, Julienne Coppens. She demands he see her and to his shock she declares him her long-long Amand, even identifying a mole under the hair on his head. 

With great trepidation, he goes home to Belgium with her. The novel continues telling the story of the following year in which they become reacquainted. As can be assumed, lots of hesitation and misunderstandings ensue as well as a blossoming of genuine love. Although both of their entire families and their home were lost in the war, Julie has started a new life in a new town and together they work to build the fledgling photography business she runs. Yet Amand never remembers a single moment. And Julie is clearly lying about some of the details. Their trust is on shaky ground.

Over time, Amand starts to experience moments as a different man. He feels like he is slipping into a psychotic break down. The lost time is happening more frequently, for longer periods, and he is often volatile and dangerous in these states. In addition, he is suffering from extreme "shell shock" and frequently dreams of the horrors he witnessed. A yellow woman with long, blond hair haunts those dreams. Is she death itself? Eventually Julienne and Amand make a plan for when the "other man" fully consumes him and he becomes, once again, a total stranger. They will reestablish their relationship with a collection of photos and letters and force him to live as her husband, Amand.

As expected, one day Amand becomes "Louis" and seems incapable of returning to his old self. He insists he is married to Kathe, a German woman with long, blond hair. He can't remember exactly where he is from, but he becomes increasingly angry with the strange woman, Julie, who claims to be his wife. Even the letters and photographs which were supposed to prove he was her husband Amand make him angry and suspicious. After a few weeks of increasing turmoil, Julie buys Amand a train ticket to a town in Germany that he senses is his home. Off he goes with a suitcase, some food, a few francs, and a destination. He arrives in a war-torn, highly impoverished nation where his money is no good, his suitcase is stolen, and the trains no longer run. 

I don't want to give away the ending, but suffice it to say that it is very satisfying. 

One issue with the book is that it is long. And yet one critic said, "A gripping story...stirring, psychologically profound, and not a page too long." About half way through, I felt it was many pages too long. The unfolding relationship between Julienne and Amand seems to be told in real time and includes the daily repetitions known to all households. And yet, by the end, I think I see the purpose of that long, drawn out, dailyness. We see the relationship grow and encounter set backs and hurdles. We see how one day does, in fact, differ from the day before. We live their lives alongside them and become part of the story, day after day. We know Julie and Amand. So when he suddenly becomes Louis who is married to Kathe, we have opinions! The length is the point. 

This is a great book. I highly recommend it. Get over the length. The payoff is worth it!

 

The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

I'm loosely following the Close Reads podcast, and they read this book. I'm familiar with George MacDonald, one of C.S. Lewis' inspirations, so I decided to give it a try. The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald is an adorable story I hope to read to my grandkids someday.

It's a sweet fairy tale, in the best possible sense, about a young princess growing up in the shadow of the mountains that house the Goblins. A young man, the eleven-year-old son of a miner, named Curdie, befriends her. With the help of her ancient, mystical great, great, grandmother Princess Irene grows into a true princess, battling goblins and rescuing the boy! Throughout the story, she must learn to patiently love those around her who don't believe what she believes and in the process grows in grace.

It's a delightful tale, one of the "right" kinds of books that Lewis says Eustice had not read!

A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller

Our book club made an odd choice: Non-fiction and theological. But I loved A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller. The author calls the reader to a prayer life filled with helplessness, humility, and childlike faith.

He begins by describing the relationship Jesus had with the Father. It's one of utter dependence. Despite the fact that Jesus, alone among humans, is the only person who could truly declare himself capable of living independently of God, he is the only human who has ever fully dedicated himself to live at one with the Father. We are to become "like little children," wholly trusting in and depending on the Father, moment by moment. Miller says about Jesus when he contemplated the separation he would feel on the cross, "He had never experienced a moment when he wasn't in communion with his Father. Jesus' anguish is our normal." (p. 33) This hit me hard. Do I anguish over my lack of engagement with God the way Jesus did?

Unfortunately in our modern era, we have allowed cynicism to replace trust. Even Christian will try to give their cynicism a gloss of religiosity by becoming stoic and acting as if they are fine with whatever God does, that it doesn't matter to them at all. Jesus was neither a cynic nor a stoic nor an eternal optimist. He wholeheartedly gave himself to the Father and cried out with anguish when he saw hurt and injustice. The Father wants us to come to Him aware of reality but fully trusting in Him. Miller says, "I am not called to put on rose-colored glasses and see everything in life as pretty and good and uplifting. Rather, I am called to trust that God sees what I see." (p. 72)

As children, we are to come to the Father asking "anything" in Jesus' name, that is, with his authority. That's an overwhelming promise if we truly believed it. The problem is that we don't. Again and again Jesus says that whatever we ask will be granted to us. But how does that work? Can I ask for a million dollars and expect it show up on my doorstep? Apparently not. Rather we are to have an attitude of ask in expectancy and desire, while maintaining a sense of surrender: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's "if not" faith. We desire, we ask for our deepest desires, trusting that God placed those desires in our hearts in the first place, we hope, we wait, and we accept His perfect answer. He said we can ask for the impossible, for "nothing is impossible with God." He gave as an example asking for a mountain to fall into the sea, yet we struggle to ask for renewed relationships, remarkable healing, and the resurrection of long abandoned dreams. We have not because we ask not. What a convicting truth. God wants me to come to him with my real childlike self and ask for anything. So often we think either that God doesn't care about a particular desire, or that it's too selfish or frivolous. But how do you have a relationship with someone to whom you cannot tell your heart's desire. He gives the example of a vacation home. What if, instead of worrying and saving and planning and researching and stressing about our ability to afford a vacation home, we simply told the Father that it's our desire, but that we would rest and submit to His good plan. Let Him delight to provide and "make our joy complete." What a waste to not ask, not because then we won't receive, but because when we do receive we fail to see it as a gift from Him. In all this asking, we must also ask that he change me. I must allow Him to conform me to the likeness of His Son so that my desires begin to align with His. This one scares us because He might actually do it!

But what happens when we ask and the Father is long in answering? We learn to live in the story. So often God's answer is, "Not yet." He's working, moving the pieces, waiting for the time, and so often that feels like abandonment. It's ok to feel abandoned. In fact, one of the charges against Israel was that they failed to cry out to God when they felt alone and hopeless. God wants us to come to Him in lament when we are in the midst of the story. God is not a genie for whom we snap our fingers, and He obeys our command. What kind of relationship would it be if we did not learn to wait and trust? It would not be a relationship at all. In fact, Miller says that we live in the "Desert" between "Hope" and "Reality." This is where our story is being written. If we fall into denial, or determination, or despair, we miss the story He is writing. Rather we are to turn to Him, (not complain to those around us) with our reality and then place our hope in Him. It is in the desert that we experience communion with Him as together we walk the path He has laid out. Not knowing how the story ends is the hardest part. That takes us back to that childlike trust. As we walk in the desert, we must believe "three things about God: First, God is sovereign. He can do something. Second, God is love. He is for me. He wants to do something. And finally, God is a covenant-keeping God. He is bound by his own word. He will do something." (p. 186)

I love the way Miller sums up our role:

"1. Don't demand that the story go your way. (In other words, surrender completely.)

2. Look for the Storyteller. Look for his hand, and then pray in light of what you are seeing. (In other words, develop an eye for Jesus.)

3. Stay in the story. Don't shut down when it goes the wrong way...When the story isn't going your way, ask yourself, 'What is God doing?'" (p. 205)

We are not victims in our story. We are constantly being made to die to self and trust in the Giver of Life. It is only in relationship with the Father that any of this life begins to make sense and achieve purpose. And that relationship is formed in the crux of the desert as we ask, wait, and watch. He is for us, not against us and delights to give us the desires of our hearts, while transforming both our hearts and our desire.

The Quartet by Joseph J. Ellis

I'd had The Quartet by Joseph J. Ellis on my list for awhile. I don't even remember where the recommendation came from. But I am so glad I read this book. 

Obviously, I know a thing or two about American history, but this book brought some events at the time of the Founding into sharp relief and connected dots I had not. 

It's contention is that Washington, Madison, Hamilton, and John Jay together, through their sheer force of will, reimagined what the American Revolution was about and shaped the American Constitution to reflect their will. It's pretty compelling.

What was clear to all was that America stood on a precipice. What would it be now that it had won its independence from Britain. That single goal united all thirteen colonies, but they were united by little else. 

In fact, all the struggles Washington faced to fund the army through a recalcitrant Congress presaged the even harder battle after the war was won. Each state truly saw themselves as independent states. They united to defeat the British, but how to pay for that or how to run a united country afterwards was not a consideration. They had no desire to be the United States. Once the war was over, they did not even see the need for a functioning Congress. Of the delegates elected after the war, less than half even bothered to show up. The fact that we did not have an Executive or Judicial branch made perfect sense. Why would these thirteen, independent states need either. After all, hadn't they just thrown off an executive and judicial system which had tyrannized them? The Articles of Confederation, which controlled the colonies during the war, were intentionally weak, and apparently probably temporary. 

Washington recognized right away the trouble the nation was in. He despaired that he had fought for an independent United States just to see it quickly devolve into myriad self-interested, squabbling petty kingdoms. As long as each state retained its sovereignty, they did not think about common commerce, paying debts, military protection, or foreign policy. Any attempt to promulgate a stronger central government was derided as a return to the monarchy they had just thrown off. Yet Washington clearly saw the anarchy this opened America up to. Small states would be helpless in the face of an unpaid and angry military. States would eventually war with each other over boundaries, navigation rights, etc. And all would be sitting ducks to European powers just waiting for the dust to clear. 

John Jay went to England to negotiate the peace treaty after the war. So ineffective was the Continental Congress he left behind that he had no clear instructions or even a way to actually ratify the treaty he finally negotiated. Even when he came back with a phenomenal acquiesces from the British giving Americans all the land east of the Mississippi, the states' suspicions of each other prevented us from taking advantage of it. Unbelievably the North and South already looked at each other as competitors. Since the treaty would open up so much heretofore unclaimed land, both believed the other would use it to their disadvantage. Washington, a surveyor, knew the unbelievable gift the land was and was horrified that no one else seemed to see it. Jay saw what Washington saw and knew that a collection of infighting states would lead to one of the biggest missed opportunities in history.

Because Hamilton was not raised in a colony, he had no prejudicial connection to any one territory. In fact, he clearly saw the need for a united nation and the promise of political and economic advancement on the table. He also believed the war was about independence, not the overthrow of a particular type of governing system. He might have been ok returning to a monarchy as long as it was an American monarchy. He believed in America. He believed in the United States. He had no patience for The Thirteen Headstrong Squabbling States. 

But even with these heavy hitters, America owes all to Madison. It was he who saw most clearly the need for a central government to unite the colonies. Despite the fact that he felt a strong connection to his native country, Virginia, he worked tirelessly behind the scenes to push and prod the biggest players to come together to write a new governing document that would unite the disparate states into one country. A true politician, he waited until the moment was right, after Shay's Rebellion scared men like Washington into action. Although Hamilton jumped the gun in his excitement, calling a convention to "revise" the Articles, Madison politicked behind the scenes making sure delegates amenable to radical change would be the ones to show up. 

Then he developed a plan: The Virginia Plan. It gave each state power based on population, which coincidentally Virginia excelled in, and it gave the central government control over states' laws, meaning Virginia control over states laws. He lost in both arenas, rightfully so. But, he sparked a conversation about how to maintain the states' role in a federal government. Myriad compromises meant the line between state and national power would be blurred again and again. It would be up to future generation to find that line, but the seed was planted. Together these four laid out the principles that the Revolutionary War should have been fought for, but honestly wasn't. 

The book does a fantastic job of showing how close we came to winning our independence only to lose it again due to our own stubbornness, pride, and stupidity. Without these four men, we do not get the United States of America. These men saw with an exceptional kind of clarity the opportunity being handed to the states, a kind of clarity other mere mortals did not have. Through sheer force of will they created the nation we have today.

Theo of Golden by Allen Levi

A good friend recommended Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. It is the sweet tale of a stranger, Theo, who arrives in Golden, Georgia. 

After noticing portraits lining the walls of the local coffeeshop, he sets out on a mission to bestow the portraits on their subject.

His generosity is always met with incredulity and a story. Each person he meets becomes a friend and a bit of a confidant. Some of the people remain in his life throughout the year he lives in Golden and some move on soon after receiving the gift.

Relatively early in his stay, however, he has the need to confide his full name and story to a local businessman from whom he rents a third-story apartment. It is in this small way that we begin to realize that there is more to Theo than he lets on.

Most of the book continues filling up with people and stories and the interactions they share. It's sweet, but certainly is not a plot-driven book. But the secret of Theo's identity hangs out there, tantalizing the reader. Occasionally Levi reminds us that there is more to the story, but it often sounds nefarious. 

This is where I hate myself for saying it, because so much of the book is worth reading, but the fact that this is Levi's first book becomes apparent. 

He ends the book in a way that is so pat and so obviously planned from before the book was written. It's the "elevator pitch" come to life. I felt very let down by the many strings all suddenly revealed and then connected. In the hands of a much more skillful writer, like a Charles Dickens, it could have been so much better. It's too abrupt and too perfect. 

Oh well. It was a sweet read while it lasted. 

Virgil Wander by Leif Enger

Our book club decided to read Virgil Wander by Leif Enger. He also wrote Peace Like a River, which we loved.

I thought this book was really sweet. 

It follows the life of Virgil Wander after he experiences a near-death crash into the ocean. He is saved by a witness and returns to his own life as a bit of an outsider looking in. 

A visitor to the small town, Rune, arrives flying kites and asking about the death of his newly discovered son, Alec. Because of Virgil's accident, he needs someone to watch over him while he recovers and Rune needs a place to stay. It's a perfect match. 

The small town is full of eclectic characters, none more so than the son of the founder, Adam. He comes off as slightly menacing, but we're not sure why. Regardless, a pattern of "bad things happen when he's around" starts to emerge. 

In the climax of the book, while the town faces a literal existential threat, Virgil and other townsfolk finally kill a giant sturgeon that's been terrorizing them. And suddenly both Adam and the threat disappear. It wasn't until I discussed the book with my book club that I even made that connection.

The book is a really enjoyable read. We definitely love getting to know the characters and the town itself. But if the connection is not made back to Adam and his family, the ending falls flat and feels very anti-climatic. Enger loves to introduce the supernatural and that's definitely woven in this book as in his other book, Peace Like a River. You just have to look for it.

 

Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

Somehow the book Being Mortal by Atul Gawande was recommended. After getting it from the library, I got jammed up with other, more pressing books. I considered skipping it. I do judge books by their covers and this one seemed boring. 

This is one a handful of books that I believe will stick with me... probably forever. 

I'm glad that I read it, and also exhausted!

Here is the money quote at the end:

Being mortal is about the struggle to cope with the constraints of our biology, with the limits set by genes and cells and flesh and bone. Medical science has given us remarkable power to push against these limits, and the potential value of this power was a central reason I became a doctor. But again and again, I have seen the damage we in medicine do when we fail to acknowledge that such power is finite and always will be.

We've been wrong about what our job is in medicine. We think our job is to ensure health and survival. But really it is larger than that. It is to enable well-being. And well-being is about the reasons one wishes to be alive. Those reasons matter not just at the end of life, or when debility comes, but all along the way. Whenever serious sickness or injury strikes and your body or mind breaks down, the vital questions are the same: 

• What is your understanding of the situation and its potential outcomes?
• What are your fears and what are your hopes? 
• What are the trade-offs you are willing to make and not willing to make? 
• And what is the course of action that best serves this understanding?

Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

A friend in book club recommended that I read Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway, despite my insistence that I didn't like Hemingway. She assured me I would like it. It's different, she said. 

I was right.

I didn't like it.

At all. 

I thought it would be similar to All Quiet on the Western Front which makes a damning case against World War I and probably all wars. This book does not do that. It makes a damning case against bad dialogue and a poor plot. 

I know I'm an outlier. It's Hemingway after all, and I suppose he's famous for a reason. But I'm not sure what that is.

The plot is thin: an American serves as an ambulance driver for the Italian forces in World War I before America enters the war. The unfamiliar terrain makes it even more difficult to perceive a plot. He gets hurt and spends a lot of time in a recovery hospital where he spends his evenings with a nurse. They say they love each other. She's feels married to him and he kinda/sorta agrees. We are never sure if they actually love each other or even know each other. It truly is all about the sex. For some reason, she's desperate to keep him. She is completely subsumed as an actual human to whatever he wants and says. Even if he doesn't know what he wants and says contradictory things. She's just there for it. He seems content to keep her around for as long as it lasts.

Once he returns to the war, things go south, and the army begins to retreat. Apparently that kind of failure leads to mock trials and summary executions of officers. Who knew? He and his now pregnant "wife" escape to Switzerland. Although the danger of being caught and executed is apparently a thing, we never see any real possibility of that. It's unclear if the army knows he's gone. 

When it comes time to deliver the baby, there are complications, and... spoiler... she and the baby die. He returns to the hotel. The end. (It comes with multiple endings in which the baby lives or dies. But in all the endings she dies. Each is just as abrupt and meaningless.)

No case against war. No growth as a human. No insight into the human psyche. Just a self-absorbed man. knocking up a horribly foolish and naive girl, and she dies. Oh yeah. At one point, he shoots a fellow soldier point blank in a field, and I could never figure out why. He neither struggles with that nor regrets it. It just happens, like most of his life.

It reminded me a lot of Catcher in the Rye and not in a good way. It's the internal musings of a narcissist. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care what he thinks or thinks about. He mostly spends his time and money (where does all the money come from?) on alcohol. Even his pregnant girlfriend drinks because it keeps the baby "small"?!? 

Maybe the story is about two humans without a shred of humanity between them? Maybe it's about the ennui of war and the ever present sense of meaninglessness? Maybe it's about getting knocked up by an immature, self-absorbed, SOB?

One final note: the dialogue. Every character--male or female, young or old, American or not--spoke EXACTLY the same way. Boring drivel. (And interestingly all spoke like English was not their first language: halting, simple, non-reflexive.)

EXAMPLE conversation between Frederick (American, main character) and Catherine (British: the "wife"):

Catherine: "What are you thinking about now?"

Frederick: "Nothing."

"Yes you were. Tell me."

"I was wondering whether Rinaldi had the syphilis."

"Was that all?"

"Yes."

"Has he the syphilis?"

"I don't know."

"I'm glad you haven't. Did you ever have anything like that?"

"I had gonorrhea."

"I don't want to hear about it. Was it very painful, darling?"

"Very."

"I wish I'd had it."

"No you don't."

"I do. I wish I'd had it to be like you. I wish I'd stayed with all your girls so I could make fun of them to you."

"That's a pretty picture."

"It's not a pretty picture you having gonorrhea."

"I know it. Look at it snow now."

"I'd rather look at you. Darling, why don't you let your hair grow?"

"How grow?"

"Just grow a little longer."

"It's long enough now."

"No, let it grow a little longer and I could cut mine and we'd be just alike only one of us blonde and one of us dark."

"I wouldn't let you cut yours."

"It would be fun. I'm tired of it. It's an awful nuisance in the bed at night."

"I like it."

"Wouldn't you like it short?"

"I might. I like it the way it is."

"It might be nice short. Then we'd both be alike. Oh, darling, I want you so much I want to be you too."

"You are. We're the same one."

"I know it. At night we are."

"The nights are grand."

Insipid. Boring. Repetitive. Contradictory. Childish. Meaningless. Circular. It NEVER moves what little plot there is.

So how do I really feel?

Taking Manhattan by Russell Shorto

The book Taking Manhattan by Russell Shorto
was recommended to me somewhere, and since I am an American History nut, I had to read it. Shorto does an excellent job blending rich historical research and primary sources into an imminently readable story. We all know how it ends, but the journey is full of tension. 

Russell Shorto argues that the 1664 transition of New Amsterdam from Dutch to English control was a negotiated merger of cultures that established New York's multiethnic identity. The narrative highlights how the city's, and by extension America's, pluralistic DNA was formed through this pragmatic shift rather than simple military conquest. (AI)

He expertly crafts the narrative by highlighting the two key players: Richard Nicolls (for the English), and Peter Stuyvesant (for the Dutch). Both were ambitious and fiercely loyal to their respective authorities. Neither wanted to see the city destroyed. Together, they saved the city by reaching a compromise that would allow the island to continue to grow and flourish under the protection of the English using Dutch ways of doing business.

The best takeaway was at the end. He follows the Duke of York, for whom the city is named, into his role as King James II. When he appeared to threaten to push Catholicism on England, William of Orange, husband of James' sister Mary, seemed poised to invade. Much like the takeover of New Amsterdam, the English saw wisdom in compromising and allowing William and Mary to reign as sovereigns, pushing aside James II, in a bloodless, "Glorious" revolution. 

In the biggest irony of all, the English took Manhattan from the Dutch; the Dutch took England from the English.

Great book.

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

This book was recommended by another woman in our book club. She claimed I would love it. She was right.

I'll be honest and admit my own bias. I had heard of this book, since it was made into a movie. And although I recollect the movie being English and bucolic, the Japanese name of the author threw me. I thought I had to be mistaken. And I was, frankly, not super interested in a novel about Japanese culture. That's me being biased and close-minded. 

I was wrong on every count. 

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro does reflect what I vaguely recollected of the movie. It is a British-themed book, seeped in British history and culture. 

It is the story of Stevens, a butler of the first order, reflecting on a life of service to a great lord. If I didn't know any better, I would say Ishiguro had either served as a butler himself or had somehow made himself intimately acquainted with the position. In my mind, he perfectly captures a man being passed over by time who is questioning his place and role. 

Stevens has set out on a journey across the country to contact a woman who used to work for him to see if she is interested in returning to the position. The estate has switched hands after the death of Lord Darlington to an American owner and although it requires far fewer staff, Stevens finds his team of four too small. Too many errors that would have been unacceptable in the prior era are surfacing. 

During the journey, Stevens has time to reflect on his life's work. He is particularly interested in what makes a "great" butler. Although he never implies that he, himself, should be counted among that small group, he clearly hopes he has approached greatness. 

His own definition includes "dignity," which he defines as the "ability to inhabit their professional role and inhabit it to the utmost; they will not be shaken out by external events, however surprising, alarming or vexing." (p. 43) This definition is very convicting to me. I think it should apply to the profession of teacher as well as butler. I'm not sure I'm always able to "inhabit [my] professional role...to the utmost." I'm often thrown "out of character" at the slightest provocation. 

In the end, however, Stevens is reflective. Perhaps his extreme loyalty to a man he may be coming to believe was wrong should have caused him to step outside that professional role on occasion, at least to think and develop his own opinion. It's an interesting conundrum. It definitely gave me something to think about personally. 
 

Crucial Conversations by by Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler

A friend who is also a therapist recommended Crucial Conversations by by Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler because it so impacted her.

It sounded like something I could use. It was indeed very helpful and hopeful.

In the back was a chart that summarized the whole book. I think it is the best way to summarize it here.

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton is a sweet and captivating novel chosen by our book club this month.

The protagonist is Edie Burchill, a young editor, who uncovers her mother's secret wartime past when a 50-year-old letter arrives from Milderhurst Castle, home to the eccentric Blythe sisters.

Edie, a self-declared romantic, finds herself at Milderhurst one day and decides to take a tour, neglecting to mention her mother's connection to the home. Over the course of the novel, Edie comes to understand, not only her mother, from whom she has long felt estranged, but the mysterious Blythe sisters as well. 

The story weaves back and forth through time and perspective. This can make it a bit hard to follow at times. Each narrator is not omniscient, so it can be confusing to remember who knows what. But that shift keeps the reader engaged in a way that a much more straightforward tale would probably not. 

Edie is front and center. Yet we also experience the world through the eyes of the eldest Blythe, Persephone. Although the other two sisters have their own interesting stories to tell, the "lesser" twin Seraphina, and the dazzling, eccentric youngest, Juniper, by the end, it is Percy whose story is the richest. All are unreliable narrators for one reason or another, and the author almost leaves us without absolute knowledge of what actually happened. Thankfully, she introduces one last vignette, making the reader the only truly omniscient participant. 

Much of the mystery of the novel surrounds Juniper and the fiancée who abandoned her fifty years earlier. Edie's mom had been living at Milderhurst Castle during the war and so knew the central figures. Yet she had kept the entire episode to herself her whole life. Bit by bit, Edie uncovers the "real" story.

So many relationships are showcased in the novel. There is much love and sacrifice, even in the secrets. Bouncing about in time, as we do, we see characters literally grow up before our eyes. Edie, however, is stuck in her own time and can have trouble seeing each person for their totality. It helps that she is "romantic" and can imagine what she never experienced. 

This sweet book makes me want to read more of Morton's books. She has real insight into the human character and relationships. 

1356: A Novel by Bernard Cornwell

I love historical fiction, and Bernard Cornwell is one of my favorites. This is one of his rare stand-alone novels. Since I was not looking to read a whole series, I picked up 1356: A Novel from the library, having no idea what it referenced. I simply trusted Cornwell to make it interesting.

He did.

In the epilogue, he states his reason for this book is because he feels that the Battle of Poitiers has been largely forgotten compared to the Battle of Crécy or the Battle of Agincourt, which bookended the Hundred Years War between France and England. He's right. I hadn't heard of it, and it deserves more attention. 

Because the battle and time period is unfamiliar, I had a hard time in the beginning. He introduces a lot of characters from all over Britain and France. That can be confusing. People from Gascony (France) could very well be fighting on the side of the Brits, while people from Scotland (Britain) are fighting on the side of the French. Not to mention the traitors. 

We begin with Thomas, le Batard. He is the bastard son of an English nobleman. But he has disavowed that heritage and roams France as the leader of a mercenary army-for-hire. At the same time, a "black friar" has set about to retrieve a long-lost relic, le malice, the sword used by Saint Peter to defend Christ in the garden on the night of his betrayal. It is said that the sword contains the power of God but can only be used for good by the legitimate ruler. After finishing his latest gig, defeating Count Villon and "rescuing" the wife of the Count of Labrouillade, Thomas is tasked with finding le malice. 

At the same time, the king of France, Jean, is under enormous pressure to take on the English, led by the Prince of Whales, Edward, who are ravaging the French countryside. 

Twists and turns and adventures ensue as Thomas seeks to find le malice, evade capture by Labrouillade for taking the rescued wife to protect her from Labrouillade's abuse, and avoid the evil clergy also searching for le malice. Along the way he adds some colorful characters to his horde of merry men. 

Eventually they catch up to le malice, but it slips through their grasp and into the hands of the French. Unfortunately Thomas and his men are ordered to report to the camp of Prince Edward to fight in the long-rumored battle with the French forces. Le malice will have to wait.

The battle is remarkably lop-sided. According to what little records we have, the French lose over 2,500 men to the English' 40. Cornwell does a great job taking the scraps of history and weaving them into a believable story of how that could have happened. 

The "good guys" win, love triumphs, and le malice threatens no more. Win, win, win. 

Fun book. Fast-paced and great storytelling.