The Age of Miracles

 The Age of Miracles, Karen Thompson Walker’s debut novel, is aimed primarily at the Young Adult market that has come to be so dominated by teen and near-teen female readers.  Sadly, boys, who have only themselves to blame for the comparative lack of attention from publishers and writers they get, are not offered nearly the choices and numbers available to readers of the opposite sex.  That said, The Age of Miracles might just appeal to both sexes, and it is certainly more worthy of their attention than the never-ending stream of vampire and witch novels that claim everyone’s attention these days.

Walker actually makes her young readers think.  Her story might appear to be a straightforward one at first glance, but it leaves room for readers to decide for themselves the appropriateness of Julia’s actions and whether they might have handled things differently.  Julia is a normal sixth-grade girl.  She is growing up, and is suffering the usual insecurities, doubts, and embarrassments that are part of the whole coming-of-age process.  Unfortunately for her and her friends, however, they are coming of age just when the world seems to be dying of old age.

It has finally become common knowledge that the earth’s rotation is slowing down and that the practice of dividing days into 24-hour periods less and less reflects reality.  As the length of time separating periods of darkness and light steadily increases, and people realize that nothing can be done to stop the process, everything Julia has previously taken for granted about her life starts to fall apart.  Food supplies are threatened; astronauts are stranded in space; birds are falling from the sky; some take to the desert to await the end of the world; and Julia catches her father in a devastating lie.

Karen Thompson Walker

Strange and scary as this is, Julia so seamlessly incorporates all of it into her growing-up process that it begins to seem normal to her.  She still, after all, has to cope with the pain of losing her old girl friends to their new best friends; a new relationship with her first serious boyfriend; the knowledge that her parents are more fallible than she ever knew; and imagining her place on a planet whose long term future is far from assured.  Julia and her new boyfriend Seth are there for each other just when everyone else seems to have forgotten them.

That relationship leads to one of the more moving final paragraphs of a book I have encountered in a long while.  The Age of Miracles is, almost by definition of its genre, not likely to impact adult readers the way it will move younger ones and should not be judged by adult reader standards.  But do the young readers in your family a favor – steer them towards this one if they will let you.

(Review Copy provided by Publisher)

Deadwood

My first exposure to Pete Dexter's 1986 novel, Deadwood, (although I didn't know it at the time) was the intriguing HBO series of the same name.  It was not until much later that I stumbled upon the existence of the Dexter novel, and even then, I did not immediately make a connection between the two.  Now that I have finally read the book, I have to believe that the HBO series was heavily influenced by Dexter’s work, the main difference being the characters upon which the two versions chose to focus.  Dexter himself has said otherwise, and since both Deadwood representations are based on historical fact, that could certainly be the case.  The tone of the two, however, is remarkably similar, down to the style of humor, audacious sex scenes, and at times, rather shocking dialogue.

The HBO show features Wild Bill Hickok (early on), bar owner Al Swearingen, and Sheriff Seth Bullock most often - and eventually evolves into a personal battle between the latter two.  The novel, instead, revolves more around the personal experiences of Wild Bill's best friend Charlie Utter.  The two plots have much in common, but the novel offers more complexity than is found in the television series.  Each also features a memorable cast of secondary characters, including Calamity Jane, Solomon Starr, and a Chinese "godfather" character.

Photo - Kyle Johnson

Pete Dexter disposes of Wild Bill Hickok almost as quickly as HBO killed him off, but unlike in the HBO series, Hickok's death has a bearing on everything that follows it.  Dexter describes the Wild West in a manner that had to seem unusual to readers of the day- although, coincidentally, Deadwood and Larry McMurtry's similarly styled novel, Lonesome Dove, were both first published in 1986.  The two books will be long remembered because of the almost mythical worlds populated by believable, very human, characters, they create.  Everything is bigger than life despite the hardscrabble environment so common to the American West of the last decades of the nineteenth century.  I will state the obvious here: if you enjoyed Lonesome Dove you will love Deadwood - and vice versa.

Deadwood is perfect for those who enjoy their historical fiction mixed with a heavy dose of irreverent humor.  Pete Dexter has not strayed far from the truth of what really happened in Deadwood during its heyday, and his research efforts and attention to detail are used to good advantage in recounting both the fictional and the factual aspects of the Deadwood story. It all feels right.  If it didn't happen this way, it sure could have.

Who knew a history lesson could be so much fun?

The Akashic Noir Series

OK, short story lovers out there, and you know who you are, if you still have not discovered the "noir" collection being published by Akashic Books, now is the time to jump on board.  And I do mean jump, because these books are being published at an astonishing pace.  I have just started reading a review copy of the publisher's Long Island Noir (edited by Kaylie Jones), in fact, and there are already ten more of these in the works.

Each of the books in the series collects dark, crime-related short stories set in one particular city or geographical area.  I  reported on Boston Noir and Mexico City Noir  last year - giving each of them mixed reviews for the uneven quality of their stories.  The concept is such a good one, however, that I keep coming back to them, knowing that several high quality stories are sure to be found in each volume, along with some good ones, and two or three clinkers.  Too, the editors have done an extraordinary job on the introductions of the two books I've already read- as has Kaylie Jones (daughter of James Jones, by the way) in this new volume.  What floors me is that Long Island Noir seems to be the 50th book in the series, and less than eighteen months ago I mentioned that Boston Noir was the 34th.

Some of the previously published ones that particularly appeal to me are set in Barcelona, Baltimore, Richmond, Philadelphia, London, and the "Lone Star" state of Texas.  Of the ten planned next, I most look forward to Seoul Noir, Lagos Noir, and Jerusalem Noir.

Have you read any of the 50 books in the current Noir selection?  If so, which are your favorites - and why?  In a series with this many choices, I could definitely use a little help in choosing.

Home

I have frequently heard Toni Morrison's new novel, Home, described as her most "accessible" work yet, and as someone who has read bits and pieces of several of Ms. Morrison's novels without up to now completing one of them, I have to agree with that assessment.  Granted, Home, is hardly more than novella length and it can be finished in one sitting or two, but its theme and underlying message are still pure Toni Morrison.  This one just might serve as the gateway novel that creates a number of new, previously reluctant, Toni Morrison fans.

Home is largely Frank Money's story.  Frank, a veteran of the recently ended Korean War, cannot face going home to his family.  His two best friends from back home are dead, and Frank feels too much guilt about being the only one of the three to have survived ever to look their grieving mothers in the eyes.  That guilt, topped off by misgivings about something he did in Korea, have turned Frank into a drunkard largely dependent upon the kindness of strangers for his survival.  Frank Money is a bitter man, one growing ever more bitter because he knows that the country he risked his life for, and for which so many black men died, is every bit as racist as it was the day he left for Korea.

As children, Frank and his sister, Cee, could not wait to leave their sleepy little Georgia town for what they were certain would be better lives than the ones they would leave behind.  Both did leave that little town - and both barely survived the results.  Frank was scarred by war; the inexperienced Cee, by the disastrous marriage she jumped into in order to fashion her own escape.  When, desperate to save her life, Frank decides to bring his sister back to the old hometown, the healing will begin for both of them.

Toni Morrison © Timothy Greenfield-Sanders

For the most part, Morrison uses first person narration to tell Frank’s story, and although the book's chapters alternate between narrators, Frank's is the point-of-view most often heard from.  Particularly interesting, is the way that Morrison occasionally allows Frank to step out of character long enough to address the book's author and readers directly, reminding us that this is a mature man telling a story that happened long ago.  He even corrects some of what the author wrote in earlier chapters - admitting that he purposely mislead her about certain events from his past.  In this manner, the truth of Frank's story is revealed layer-by-layer, until the reader has a clear sense of who he is and how he got to be the way he is.

Home is a story of one man's hard-earned redemption and how he finally found the home he had been searching for all his life.  There is a lot going on between the covers of this slim book, and it should not be prejudged by its length - because it would be a shame to miss it.

Favorite Dust Jackets of 2012 - So Far

Just thirty days from 2012's halfway point, I thought I would feature some of the more striking cover art from the new books I've read through May.  You will notice quite a contrast in styles here, but what the covers have in common, in addition to their sheer beauty, is how much each of them tells potential readers about what to expect from their book.

I love the colors and the contrasting lights of this cover.  The picture gives a good feel for what it must be like for a young, mediocre pitcher to find himself all alone, with tens of thousands of eyeballs focused on him, as he struggles to find the plate often enough to survive the experience.  (Memoir)

The Bastard Year is a coming-of-age novel focusing on a young man who learns that his parents are not the people he imagined them to be just a few months earlier.  You can feel the boy's loneliness here even before you read the first page.  (Novel)

This cover leaves no doubt what The Lifeboat is all about, does it?  That tiny little speck on the ocean is going to be home to the best and worst of every human emotion imaginable before rescue comes.  The blending of the skyline with the water makes the little lifeboat seem even less significant than it already is.  (Novel)

Mudwoman is oh, so Joyce Carol Oatesish - and the cover sets the book's spooky tone long before the first page of this rather long novel will be turned.  (Novel)

Freaks is the only one of these books that I have not read in its entirety- because it is, so far, only available in Europe.  I have, however, read one of the short stories in this collection (and featured it on Book Chase).  The cartoon art featured on the book's cover seems to be a near perfect representation of these stories involving people with unusual (but aren't they all, I suppose) superpowers.  And I really like the cover...  (Short Stories)

Joe Lansdale has done it again.  Edge of Dark Water is a very dark, sort of  Huck-Finnish novel that takes place up and down what proves to be a very dangerous river for all involved.  The reader can pretty much guess the book's overall tone from this cover.  (novel)

A little girl the reader never meets in life is at the center of Carry the One.  What happens to her haunts the book's main characters for decades (thus, each of them "carries the one") and I particularly like the way the girl stands all alone at the center of this image.  That's the story in a nutshell.

Holy Ghost Girl is the true story of a little girl who grew up following a tent preacher across the U.S. because her mother was infatuated with him.  Donna Johnson had it all figured out long before her mother twigged to the truth.  But, considering the cover image, did I really have to tell you that?  (Memoir)

I can't wait to see what images I collect during the rest of the year because I use my cover collection as the image feed to my screensaver.  I sometimes purposely allow the screensaver to kick in, in fact, because I so much enjoy watching them float by, one by one, for minutes at a time.  Weird...I know.

Lehrter Station

Unbeknownst to me when I began reading David Downing’s new novel, Lehrter Station is actually the fifth book in a series of World War II novels featuring spy-of-all-trades, and British journalist, John Russell.  Much of what happened to Russell and those closest to him in previous books is unobtrusively recapped here, however, meaning that Lehrter Station works well as a standalone.  Many readers new to the John Russell character, me among them, will want to go back and read the earlier books in the series even if they begin with this one.

Having successfully bought his way out of Berlin just a few months earlier, Russell now lives in London as 1945 draws to a close.  He shares a cramped flat there with Paul, his grown son; Effi, his German girlfriend; Rosa, the little German war orphan they are caring for; Zarah, Effi’s sister; and Lothar, Zarah’s young son.  Although John Russell hopes to begin a new life with his makeshift family, he knows the odds are stacked against him.  He is a man with a cloudy past, and he owes his escape to London to a deal he made with the devil – and now the devil wants to be paid for his services.

Russell delivered German atomic research secrets (with promises of continuing cooperation after the war) to the Soviets in exchange for his family’s safe passage out of Berlin.  Now, forced to return to Berlin by the NKVD, Russell and Effi find the occupied city to be every bit as dangerous for them as it had been during the war.  Russell, who has convinced both the Russians and the Americans that he is spying on their behalf, will have to keep both sides happy if he and Effi are to survive.  Then, when his snooping inadvertently threatens to expose a former German army officer’s new role, Russell’s life becomes even more complicated.

David Downing

Lehrter Station, though, is much more than a “spy novel.”  It is an interesting piece of historical fiction that vividly portrays life in post-war Berlin as its American, French, British, and Soviet occupiers begin to settle in to the four zones into which they carved Berlin.  Thousands of displaced citizens are flooding the city only to learn that their former homes no longer exist or that other refugees have been placed in them.  Their scramble for shelter is worsened by all the others who join the returning Berliners because their own homes are now outside the newly-drawn German borders.  The streets are still filled with bomb rubble, public utilities are unpredictable, and the currency of choice seems to be the American cigarette.  The country’s legitimate economy has been replaced by a cutthroat black market one already infiltrated by former German army officers – under new identities – and used by scores of occupying soldiers for personal profit. 

In the midst of this chaos, John and Effi search for word of missing friends and relatives while John tries to negotiate the complications of simultaneously trying to please two very different spymasters.  Dealing successfully with the devil is not easy.