At Home: A Short History of Private Life

by Bill Bryson
New York : Doubleday, c2010.

Bryson lives (lived?) in a former rectory in England, and one day had the idea of going through every room in the house and researching the history of something related to that room: trade for the kitchen, food for the dining room, sex for the bedroom, etc. What follows is a social history much in the same vein as A Short History of Nearly Everything was for science, ranging all over the place in topic but surprisingly coming back around with interesting connections to mid-19th century England and some of the amazing changes going on in simply living during the Industrial Revolution.

At 452 pages (not counting bibliography and index), this is the longest and most dense book that I've read for my library book discussion, but I'm glad I persevered. It's an entertaining popular history using primarily secondary sources with, as Bryson is known for, many tangents, humor, and interesting tidbits thrown in for good measure. Unlike many of his books, At Home is on the denser side of pop history. There is a lot of information thrown into this book, and I found myself forgetting what I'd read before and being surprised when a name later in the book carried a reference to a previous chapter, something that you'd think might happen less in a book that ranges over such diverse topics as sex, food, trade, childhood, and more. Except for this fact, each chapter is rather disparate in subject to the extent that you could get away with skipping to the parts you're most interested in and not losing much context along the way. Bryson is sometimes criticized for not having notes; this book has them, albeit online instead of in the text. His extensive bibliography ensures the possibility of follow up for any subject that may particularly catch your fancy.

A Yankee Spy in Richmond

diary by Elizabeth Van Lew
edited and with an introduction by David Ryan
Mechanicsburg, PA : Stackpole Books, 1996.

Elizabeth Van Lew lived in Richmond, Virginia, and was educated in the North. She believed slavery was wrong and was loyal to the Union, giving much of her life and inheritance in furthering the Union cause. In particular, she spied and gave information on troop movement and supplies, and worked to better the conditions and protect escapees from Libby Prison. This is her wartime diary, incomplete at least in part due to her own vigilance in getting rid of evidence that could have incriminated her.

I first heard of this when reading my LibraryThing Early Reviewer copy of The Secrets of Mary Bowser. Mary was a former slave at the Van Lew residence, and was instrumental in Elizabeth's and Thomas McNiven's spy network. Unfortunately, perhaps due to Elizabeth's care in destroying documents or the way the diary was buried for years, very little mention is made of anything connected to Mary Bowser, and only a little more is included of Elizabeth's own spying (primarily letters inserted that have innocuous messages on their face, but a request for information once heat and acid is applied to the document).

The Introduction pretty much covers the most interesting parts of the diary, and it's hard to follow what happened because it's such a truncated account. You do, however, get a window into the mindset of Elizabeth Van Lew, who saw her work as being loyal to her country (rather than her state), and definitely saw the point of the Civil War as ending slavery. She was appalled by the treatment of Union soldiers. She had deep convictions and her behavior mirrored what she believed, even though it made her extremely unpopular in her hometown. The inclusion of letters at the end, both by and about Elizabeth Van Lew, round out the picture of her life. Recommended if you're interested in the historic time period or place.

Before Freedom, When I Can Just Remember

selected and edited by Berlinda Hurmence
Winston-Salem, N.C. : J.F. Blair, c1989.

During the Great Depression, one of the Federal Writers' Project activities was locating former slaves and interviewing them. The resultant collection of these oral histories has been microfilmed by the Library of Congress, the Slave Narratives, which make up seventeen volumes (10,000 pages) of material. In this volume of a publisher's series of the oral histories, twenty-seven of these narratives of former slaves have been chosen giving a range of views on slavery in South Carolina.

The introduction by Belinda Hurmence is worthwhile reading before diving in to the interviews. She mentions that many former slaves talk positively about their experiences, and offers a few ideas on why this is so - looking back on the past often gives us a rosier view, the Great Depression, and the fact that a black person is being interviewed by a white person all probably had an impact to varying degrees on what the former slave would say about his or her experiences. Even so, when you read between the lines about how a master might treat his slaves, a person's memories of being sold or parents being whipped, it's heartbreaking no matter what the person says about their master being kind or "not hardhearted."

The interviews are taken from various places around the state of South Carolina, including the islands, and covers the experience of field hands and house slaves, men and women, who were children during the Civil War. I'm not quite sure why the editor decided to shift things chronologically, however, because I think that the way someone says something and the order they put it in gives it a meaning on its own, regardless of the actual chronology of events. Even so, I found these interviews a fascinating exploration of slavery from those who experienced it themselves; this is worthwhile reading for any student of American history.

Lost in Shangri-La

by Mitchell Zuckoff
New York : HarperCollins, 2011.

A plane crash in New Guinea during World War 2 leaves a few survivors in a remote valley nicknamed "Shangri-La." The natives, rumored to be cannibals, have been isolated from the modern world and may have never seen a white person before. Meanwhile, back on the base in Hollandia, military personnel have a hard task before them in figuring out how to rescue the injured survivors.

Journalist Mitchell Zuckoff brings together interviews, one of the survivor's shorthand diary, military documents, photographs, and more to tell the story of the survivors and the native people involved in this fascinating tale of survival and rescue. He incorporates detail without sacrificing the pace of the narrative, and clearly made the effort to include the natives' perspectives of the events: he isn't writing from an anthropological perspective, but he strikes me as presenting a balanced view.

This was my second time reading it, and it was just as interesting to read as it was the first time.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

by Rebecca Skloot
New York : Crown Publishers, c2010.

Henrietta Lacks died of cervical cancer in the 1950s. Before she died, a doctor took cancerous cells and used them to create the first cell culture of human cells, which has gone on to advance medical science tremendously. But most people only knew these as HeLa, and not the woman behind the cells - her family didn't even know her cells were still alive.

Skloot tells the story of Henrietta and her family as well as delving into science and ethics in the medical profession. Her take is very personal, as she describes the way in which she gained the trust of the Lacks family and the conversations she had with them in addition to recreating the events of the 1950s and on.

I was really excited when the library book discussion that I facilitate picked this as one of our reads this year. I've been meaning to get to it since the book came out, and it finally gave me the impetus to do so. There's so much to this book - the personal stories, medical history, ethics - that it made an excellent choice for our book discussion, which went past our normal time to end and a few of us felt we could have gone on for another hour. This truly thought-provoking book has a little bit of everything, and I highly recommend it. You may not agree with everything, but you'll surely learning something.

Seabiscuit: An American Legend

by Laura Hillenbrand
New York : Ballantine Books, 2002 (originally published 2001).

In the mid-1930s, an unlikely team of men and horse took the racing world by storm. Charles Howard made his fortune selling cars, but purchased racing horses and loved the limelight. Tom Smith was a horse trainer with a unique horse sense and methods. Jockey Red Pollard was a witty, hard-fighting competitor who read classics and affectionately referred to Emerson as "Old Waldo." And then there was Seabiscuit: a stocky, short-legged horse who loved to sleep but also loved to run.

I bought this book years ago at the library book sale and it has languished on my shelves unread. In fact, I had it so long I finally put it in the box of books ready to donate back to the book sale. Then I read Unbroken, and was so completely blown away I had to dig this book out and put it back on my shelves. So, needless to say, I'm a bit behind the times in reading and loving this book. Hillenbrand deftly paints a picture of a moment in history, of a detail that makes it come alive, and of the people involved in these events. This is true in both of her books, though the subjects are very different. Seabiscuit's story is both inspiring and bittersweet, and if you happened to have put it on your pile of books that has been there so long you've nearly given up - give it a chance. Like me, you may be glad you did.

St. Paul's Cathedral in Wartime, 1939-1945

by W.R. Mathews
[1946]

When I went to England this summer, one of the highlights of the trip was St. Paul's Cathedral.

It's just a beautiful place with a long history, designed by Christopher Wren and built after the "Old St. Paul's" burned in the Fire of London in 1666. To me, one of the most amazing parts of its history was how it withstood World War 2 and the bombing of London by the Luftwaffe, and the people who volunteered as the Fire Watch to keep it from being destroyed. So, when I came back, I was determined to read up more on this history.

I first heard of this account when I read the introduction to the short story "Fire Watch" by Connie Willis. By far my favorite of the short stories in the collection by the same name, "Fire Watch" compelled me to add this nonfiction account to my TBR list. But this is a tough little cookie to track down - I was able to get it on interlibrary loan from not my local system, not my state system, but across the country. This is a short book and an interesting account. The Watch slept in the crypt, sometimes participated in lectures, and learned the many confusing ways in which to get around the church and into the dome in the event of a fire or bombing. Mathews, the former Dean of St. Paul's celebrates their dedication and patriotism, , and his account often has the folksy sort of tone of a small-town history. I found it all the more charming since I have seen the church, have been in awe of its sheer size, and am very grateful for those volunteers who made it possible for me to visit.

The King's Speech (the book)

by Mark Logue and Peter Conradi
New York : Sterling Pub. Co., 2010.

This is the dual biography of Lionel Logue and King George VI, a recounting of their friendship and the many speeches they worked on throughout the years. Despite the title and subject matter, this is a very different work than the movie, with a broader focus and greater span of years covered.

I watched The King's Speech a few months ago, and was intrigued enough to learn more. Mark Logue, the grandson of speech therapist Lionel Logue, had found his grandfather's diaries and papers soon before the shooting of the movie, and much of what he found informs this book. While some years felt a little bit like a listing of the king's speeches, a broader awareness of history, especially during World War 2 really help fill out the story and give it context. I actually wished for a bit more history, but I'll content myself with writing down a few titles contained in the notes at the end.

Tower of London

by Christopher Hibbert
New York, Newsweek [1971].

This is a history of the Tower of London, which was built under the direction of William the Conqueror and has a long and bloody history.

Though appearing deceptively short, this oversize and double-columned book is also a long and bloody history. I had a hard time following events, partially because the author wasn't quite sure if he was writing a chronological or topical history, and partially because I do not know my English history particularly well and couldn't for the life of me follow the succession of kings in the middle ages and beyond. At times dry and at other times gruesome, I had a hard time really being interesting in reading this book. On reflection, however, it's served its purpose because I did learn enough to feel that I will better understand what I'm seeing when I visit the Tower for myself.

The Rest is Noise

by Alan Ross
New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007.

This book is about 20th century classical music. You might think, as a result, that it has a potential reader base about as big as those who listen to such music, but you would be mistaken. The Rest is Noise: Listening to the 20th Century encompasses so much more. One of the blurbs on the back uses the adjective "sprawling" to describe it, and I think it's truly the best word for it. From opera to minimalism, Strauss to Britten, a glimpse of Germany under Hitler and Russia under Stalin (particularly from the point of view of the musicians), Alan Ross includes much information that would interest a history buff, a music major, or anyone in between.

If the book is hard to summarize on its own, summarizing my reading experience is even more so. I first started reading in February. Since I knew very little about classical music, and even less so about 20th century classical music, I determined to listen to many of the pieces mentioned in the text. Thankfully Ross includes an appendix of recommended recordings - a "top ten" and then 20 additional recommendations. I focused on the main ten, especially when I realized how much of a time commitment symphonies and operas truly were. And mind you, he sometimes lists more than one piece for one composer, so this was still more than 10 CDs I committed to.

What an experience! I didn't like everything I listened to, but it made the book come alive wonderfully. I listened to my first opera. I started to hear the atonality, the dissonance, that Ross so often refers to, especially in the music of Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern (I noted next to this that this was "not music to wake up to"). I really enjoyed the connections I was able to make between the text and other, outside elements. For instance, in my notes on the pieces I listened to, I noted that one of Schoenberg's orchestral pieces reminded me of the orchestra playing at the end of "I am the Walrus." I was delighted to read a bit later on that a portion of Sibelius's 7th symphony is referenced in the Beatles song "Revolution 9" - a different song, yes, but I felt the comfort of having a similar idea and bringing together something familiar with the new information I was learning. And the learning will continue - I've made a note of music I want to look into, both referenced in the text and not (after all, now I need to learn about earlier classical music, too!), and of a few composers - Mahler and Stravinsky come immediately to mind - that I enjoyed enough to find more.

A truly memorable read.

The Joy of Keeping Score

by Paul Dickson
New York : Walker, 1996.

Do you know little about keeping score in baseball, but love the history of the sport? Do you keep score in the stands, watching TV, or listening to the radio? This book has something to offer for each. Beginning with chapters on basic score keeping and more advanced techniques, then moving into a quirky alphabetical list of fun facts, score keeping in French, presidential score keeping and more, Dickson's fifteen-year-old homage to the history and technique of keeping score still has plenty of interesting tidbits for today's fan.

My dad first taught me to keep score when my brothers were in Little League. I think he may have done this partly keep his own sanity by giving me something to do instead of ask him what inning it was or what the score was or make clover chains under the bleachers. In fact, after I started keeping my "unofficial" score book in the stands, the mothers started asking me such questions (though I'm pretty sure they left the clovers alone). When I first heard of this title, then, I thought it would be the perfect quirky book to get me geared up for baseball season (last year I read a book on umpiring; I seem to have a trend going here). In only a little over 100 pages, I added a few notations to my score keeping arsenal and learned a bit about baseball statistics and history while I was at it (my favorite anecdote involved presidential score keeping). Great reproductions of score cards of both famous and not-so-famous games are included, adding a lot of visual interest. I'm definitely passing along a recommendation to my father.

When Does Storytelling Overwhelm the Message?

My first graphic novel of the year was a biography:
I see the Promised Land: A Life of Martin Luther King written by Arthur Flowers and illustrated by Manu Chitrakar and Guglielmo Rossi
[Chennai], India : Tara Books c2010.

First, the good: The story blends oral storytelling tradition with the Patua scroll painting of India. If that sounds strange, I will say that the format takes some getting used to but is really an excellent use of the graphic novel format. I have little enough of an art background to comment on the illustrations, but the colors chosen and the use of white-on-black to quote from King's speeches or highlight a point is extremely well done.

The Questionable: The author, in using the African oral tradition, references "the Gods" and Martin Luther King Jr.'s "Fa" (a word I could not find a definition for, but given the context would call it "fate" or "destiny").

At first, I admit, I rather overlooked this. It bothered me, yes, but the narrator was also clear about King's Christian background and his family's long tradition of life in the Baptist ministry. I will also be the first to admit lack of knowledge about the 1960s, Martin Luther King, Jr. himself, and African storytelling tradition, so at first I felt unqualified to comment on this storytelling device. After a few people commented on my initial review on my LibraryThing talk thread, I started to think about this some more.

How much does a format give or take from a story? This is a question in any story in terms of first- or third-person narration, the inclusion of illustrations, or even the font. Is it readable? How wide are the margins? If there are multiple narrators, do each of these get a different font? When you're talking about a graphic novel, format is doubly important because you're including illustrations on every page and if done well, should blend and be as much a part of the story as the words. While I was reading I See the Promised Land, I really liked the inclusion and choice to highlight quotes from Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous speeches, and I thought it was an overall good introductory story to the topic. This overrode some of my reservations about the storytelling device of the (fictional) narrator's references to Gods, plural, and a "Fa," something I agree that Martin Luther King, Jr. would be appalled by. Now that's another thing - this narrator is fictional, is telling us the story of King's life, and could conceivably have a different point of view from King himself. I want to read more widely about King and the Civil Rights movement now to see if my initial impression stands.

I'm not sure I have an easy answer for "how much is too much." I do think that this element was an unnecessary layer that did not fit the topic - that is, a biography of a Christian man. Where would you draw the line?

History of the English Language

lectures by Professor Seth Lerer
Chantilly, VA : Teaching Co., c1998.

From Indo-European to modern scientific language, this is an overview of the English language, with particular focus on England, the United States, and examples from literature that show not only the language itself, but attitudes about proper usage and grammar.

I cannot pretend to be an expert, but I enjoy popular works on language, and this audio lecture series was no exception. Professor Lerer presents 36 college-level lectures. His delivery is smooth without sounding stilted or droning. Some audience response is also audible, making you feel like you're really sitting in on a lecture. I found the lectures extremely accessible, and found little overlap between the information presented and the Intro to Linguistics class that I took in college several years ago. I especially enjoyed the way in which Prof. Lerer uses literature to back up his points, quoting from such works as The Canterbury Tales, Shakespeare, the King James Bible, and Moby Dick. In fact, I was a little surprised to find that, yet again, reading leads to more reading and my TBR list has grown as a result.

The Lexicographer's Dilemma

The Lexicographer's Dilemma: The Evolution of "Proper" English, from Shakespeare to South Park
by Jack Lynch
New York: Walker Publishing Company, 2009

Have you ever wondered why split infinitives and sentence-ending prepositions were forbidden by grammar books? Maybe you're more curious about dictionaries and their history of recording, and sometimes making judgments about, the language. Jack Lynch covers all this and more in The Lexicographer's Dilemma, a history of all those rules (grammar, spelling, etc.) about our native language that we had to study at school - or, as he more succinctly puts it, "the evolution of 'proper' English."

That's not to say that he's making fun of these rules, though on the occasions he does, it's very entertaining. Generally Lynch takes a balanced approach, recognizing the need to learn and know standard English for writing at school, work, and other situations, while recognizing and even celebrating the natural changes made in language as years go by. His chapter on eighteenth century grammarians really bring this balance to light. Some pile on these men all the faults of trying to force English into a Latin mode with such rules as "don't split an infinitive." Actually, Lynch argues, many of these rules did not begin in the 18th century - and the three big names in grammar were not strictly lay-down-the-law types. He quotes from many sources at length to prove his points, and I've made note of a few more books I want to read in the future.