The Summer's End

The Summer's End is the last of Mary Alice Monroe's Lowcountry Summer trilogy. Last year I read The Summer Girls and, after the plot veered toward the utterly absurd, had no intention of reading the next book, The Summer Wind. Long story short, though, is that I did read it, liked it better than the first book, and decided to see the trilogy through.

To recap : Dora, Carson, and Harper are half-sisters (same mister, different mothers) in their late-20s to late-30s who have fallen out of touch with one another, and also mostly with their grandmother. Seeking to rectify the situation, the grandmother summons them to her lowcountry house, Sea Breeze, to celebrate her 80th birthday. On her birthday, she insists they remain the entire summer, or forfeit their soon-to-be (considerable) inheritance.

Although the stories are intertwined and all characters feature in all books, each book primarily focuses on a different sister and her drama. The Summer Girls stars Carson, who has broken up with her boyfriend, lost her job, and seems to have a bit of a drinking problem. She is also obsessed with a dolphin. Perhaps not surprisingly, she is my least favorite sister. The Summer Wind is Dora's story. The eldest sister, Dora, is in the midst of a divorce and uncertain, at best, how to handle her autistic son.

The last of the trilogy, The Summer's End, focuses on youngest sister Harper. Harper is a would-be writer who is instead spinning her wheels as her ice-queen-mother's personal assistant at a New York City publishing house.She is probably the least happy to find herself stuck at Sea Breeze, at least initially. Also, the fact that her mother comes from piles and piles of money is a bone of contention between the sisters, especially (big surprise) Carson.

Harper's story veers between being relateable and likeable, and being a little too unlikely to pass muster. Nevertheless, The Summer's End is a quick and enjoyable read of the completely-non-serious variety. That said, the books are written in a way that makes it, I think, difficult to pick up one in isolation, which means that anyone who wants to read this one should probably start at the beginning - perhaps more of a commitment than most readers might care to make for 2.5-to-3 star books.

The Last Jews in Berlin

Anyone with an interest in World War II, and particularly in the Holocaust, should read Leonard Gross's The Last Jews in Berlin, an absolutely fascinating recounting of how a handful of German Jews managed to go "underground" in Nazi Germany and survive the war right under Hitler's nose.

Their methods are as varied as their backgrounds: a wealthy young family (it seems there was money to be made for a good gemologist with the right black market connections); a scholar whose prominent, Aryan lover happens to be both a countess and a key member of the German resistance; a teenaged orphan; one of the finest dress makers in Berlin; and so on. What they all have in common, though, is resourcefulness, determination, and non-Jew "patrons" who help them hide and navigate life as an illegal.

Gross brings all of these individuals to life - as well as many of their friends and family members who did not survive - in this remarkable book. He also sheds life on wartime Germany: the lack of food, the near constant bombing raids, the fear of being reported for some real of perceived slight against the regime. The Last Jews in Berlin is a great companion to In the Garden of Beasts, in which Erik Larsen paints a portrait of Berlin on the verge of war. And, although the circumstances are vastly different, I was regularly reminded of the survivors from Three Minutes in Poland.

The most poignant and telling remark for me was actually recorded early in the book, when the dress maker is indignant with rage at the Gestapo headquarters. Having successfully convinced the Gestapo of her innocence, a successful (and arguably, admiring) guard tells her upon her release, "If everyone had been as courageous as you, a lot of things would not have worked for the Gestapo." This is something I have long contemplated: why so many went so willingly and so quietly, without the least bit of fight.

Four stars.

The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt (DNF)

I judged Theodore Roosevelt harshly after reading The Imperial Cruise, (describing him as imperialistic, power hungry, and manipulative, among other adjectives) a view that was reaffirmed by The Path Between the Seas (when I noted "add Panama to the list of places Teddy Roosevelt took by storm" in my year-end review).

Still, it seemed only fair to withhold full judgment until I'd read Edmund Morris's biography, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt. And I tried, I really tried. This is a man who, for all his riches, was chronically ill as a child, experienced the untimely death of his father while still in college, and then suffered the unspeakable double heartbreak of his mother and wife dying on the same day - and on Valentine's Day, at that.

Try as I might, I couldn't get past the pomposity and the bloodlust. In fact, I couldn't even get past 1886, 12 years before Teddy stormed San Juan Hill and a decade-and-a-half before he assumed the presidency.

Often when I can't finish a book, I blame the author for having written a book that is dry-as-dust or having simply written terribly. With The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt, neither is true. Morris writes well and he writes engagingly. I was just tired of Teddy.

Belles on Their Toes

I loved Belles on Their Toes. This is the sequel to Cheaper by the Dozen, which I enjoyed immensely earlier this year.

To recap: Frank and Lillian Gilbreth were efficiency experts. Frank basically invented the field of motion study, looking to save a minute here and a second there at every opportunity. In their two books, Frank Bunker Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey have created a charming portrait of growing up in the midst of this large and eccentric family. 

Belles on Their Toes picks up where Cheaper by the Dozen leaves off, almost to the day. Frank Gilbreth, Sr. has just died of a heart attack and Lillian is setting off alone for Europe to deliver the talks Frank was scheduled to give and, in doing so, earn his fees, maintain his business, and keep her family together. (The children range in age from 18 to two.)

This is a delightfully written memoir: more than once I imagined how wonderful it must have been to be a Gilbreth. This is clearly a testament to the authors' ability, as in my sane moments, I can imagine few things worse! 

As an added bonus, several of the Gilbreth children attend the University of Michigan, including the youngest, Jane, whose graduation provides perhaps the most poignant in the book.

Four stars.

Saint Mazie

Mazie Phillips - orphan, lush, unlucky in love, successful businesswoman, humanitarian, possible saint - chronicles the life and times of the Lower East Side circa 1910-1935 in the pages of her treasured diary. She records what she sees and what she feels, how the city around her changes, and how those around her are changed by it. Her world is peopled with cops and nuns, bums and working stiffs, criminals and the mentally ill. Through the pages of her diary, which has been lost and now found some 90 years later, the reader comes to know Mazie in all her glory.

I discovered Jami Attenberg's Saint Mazie in the BBC's, Ten Books to Read in June. From the article's description, "Attenberg brings [Mazie] to life primarily through her fictional diaries...she also weaves in sections from her unpublished autobiography and fictitious oral history accounts from people who knew her," I expected Saint Mazie to be a bit like Lovers at the Chameleon Club. In that sense, I was disappointed.

The various pieces do not fit together nearly as well as they do in Francine Prose's magnificent novel. I had a hard time separating the contemporary voices. Elio Ferrante, Philip Tekverk, Pete Sorensen, and Vera Sung, are a handful of the people who give accounts to the "author" of Mazie's life. Yet they run together and mostly seemed unnecessary. In contrast, George Flicker and Lydia Wallach's accounts help move the story forward.

What Attenberg does do very, very well is to bring a place to life. The pages of Saint Mazie pulse with the life of a New York that does not exist anymore: tenements, speakeasies, immigrants, in short, the entire Lower East Side existence. It is the most place-driven book I have read in a long time; what happens here could not have happened anywhere else. In many ways, this book reminded me of a cross between the hopefulness of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and the desperation of My Notorious Life.

Although it starts rather slowly, Saint Mazie slowly yet surely sank its hook into me and, once I was hooked, I had to know what happened next and next and next. Attenberg's characters defy easy categorization; in the end it is difficult to want anything but that elusive ephemeral thing called happiness for each of them.

Lovers of historical fiction, place-based literature, and the American experience should especially enjoy this novel.

The Great Jackalope Stampede

Recently I had some long travels for which I needed relatively entertaining but mindless reading. (Other people watch movies on planes; I read books.) Ann Charles's Great Jackalope Stampede starring Claire Morgan and the rest of her kooky family seemed to fit the bill. This being a mystery series, where Claire goes, mayhem and murder follow. 

I must say that this was my least favorite of the three Jackrabbit Junction mysteries Charles has written. I felt too much play was devoted to family drama (much of it with plotlines that have already played out in the second book, Jackrabbit Junction Jitters) rather than to any type of mystery. On top of that, The Great Jackalope Stampede often seems to amble along without much direction, and the ending is equally unsatisfying. Charles leaves a number of loose ends, but I couldn't figure out if she intended to create a to-be-continued feel, or if she didn't realize (or care) that she'd left so much unfinished business.

This book served it's purpose: my flight passed more quickly than it would have otherwise. In the same sense, I imagine this would be a fine beach read, but I wouldn't go much beyond that in my recommendations.

At Bertram's Hotel

An orphaned heiress, a Continental race car driver, a train robbery, and an absentminded - and sometimes missing - clergyman. These are the primary element's of Agatha Chritie's At Bertram's Hotel. Naturally, as this is a Miss Marple novel, Miss Marple just happens to be staying at the aforementioned Bertram's and has just the eyes and ears to connect nearly everything. Scotland Yard is only too happy to oblige with the rest.

Bertram's is classic Christie. It's short and to the point, easy to read, not too many characters, all ultimately connected in sometimes surprising ways. I have a nagging suspicion that I have read it previously (perhaps more than a suspicion, unless Chritie has used the Bollard's episode more than once, which is also possible). However, not being entirely certain of the plot, I happily read it again sitting on an airplane, content to be reading without having to concentrate too much!

As always with Dame Christie's work, fans of the author, or the mystery genre in general, should find this book up to par and, therefore, an enjoyable read. Even the second time.

Tower of the Sun: Stories from the Middle East and North Africa

Michael Totten's Tower of the Sun: Stories from the Middle East and North Africa is one of those books that makes me feel how little of the world I know. As a refresher from the last Totten book I read, the travelogue of troubled regions, Where the West Ends, Totten is a Beirut-based, American journalist with a penchant for exploring the Middle East (naturally, for someone based in Lebanon) and other flash point regions in the world.

Tower of the Sun focuses on Middle Eastern and North African countries in the aftermath of the Arab Spring. Totten draws from a wide variety of sources, many of them very well placed, as well as his own personal observations and experiences, to draw an up-to-date and detailed picture of the region today. Not surprisingly, with few exceptions, Totten sees little reason for optimism.

Libya is a failed state. Syria is embroiled in a years-long civil war, in which it's difficult to decipher for which side one should root. Egypt has a history of replacing (sometimes even "electing") one authoritarian tyrant with another, and citizens in Lebanon can go to jail for speaking with citizens of Israel, regardless of where in the world or under what circumstances the conversations take place. All of which is to say nothing of the current elephant in the room, ISIS, which has only begun to appear on the scene as Totten wrote this. (It was published in 2014.) I have to say, Morocco really comes across as the shining example, here, as well as a potential vacation destination...

Anyone who loves current events or travel writing (or both - me!) should really enjoy Totten's work. One of the advantages of his books is that each chapter can stand on its own, so this is an easy book to pick up and put down 20 pages at a time.