Sunday, August 28, 2016

Book Review: "Countdown City" by Ben H. Winters

Countdown City (2013)
Ben H. Winters (1976)










2013 pages

[Note: although I make it a point to not include spoilers in my reviews, this is the second book in a trilogy, and it's not possible to write about it without including some context from the first book, The Last Policeman.  So, if you haven't read that first book yet, I suggest you jump back to my review here.]

Countdown City, the second novel in Ben H. Winters’ The Last Policeman trilogy, begins some three months after the first book ends, and only two and a half months before the day an asteroid is predicted to slam into the Earth with what are expected to be devastating consequences. Late in the first book, The Last Policeman (my review here), Detective Hank Palace lost his job on the police force, as government functions federalized and retrenched to focus exclusively on maintaining order; with the apocalypse imminent, criminal investigation is viewed by the authorities as having little value or purpose. For Palace, however, becoming a detective was his life-long dream, and as society collapses around him, continuing his work remains his way of dealing with the crushing reality of the looming asteroid impact.

The sequel opens with Palace taking notes as a woman who years earlier had been his and his sister’s babysitter describes the sudden disappearance of her husband, a former state police officer. With so many people leaving their families to pursue private bucket lists in the waning days of civilization, Palace initially pushes back on taking the case, skeptical that he can accomplish much. Eventually, however, she prevails upon him to search for her husband, and Palace --- reluctant to leave her with no hope --- agrees to give it a shot.

What follows, as in the first book, is a wild ride of miss-direction and complication, all spiced by the continuing and rapid disintegration of both civil and political administration, as well as peoples’ moral and social behavior. Though Palace encounters some kindred spirits --- individuals diligently going about their work as if the end of civilization was not a scant few months away, most people he meets exhibit motivations and behaviors clearly perverted by the coming apocalypse. Some focus solely on their own personal desires, others join up with one of a variety of religious and survivalist cults that have sprung up, and a few, like his own sister --- in a plot development begun in the first book, join groups that believe that a giant conspiracy lies behind government inaction against the approaching asteroid.

The whodunit aspect of the novel stands on its own as a great story, but what really makes this story (and the first book in the trilogy) shine is the pre-apocalyptic, dystopian twist that colors every step of Palace’s investigation: every conversation, every action and reaction of the people he meets. Most apocalyptic novels seem eager to get to the post-apocalyptic future, and build their stories around what that world might look like; The Last Policeman series, by contrast, explores deeply and seriously the psychological and social impacts of the collapse inevitably accompanying pre-apocalyptic end-times.



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I’m looking forward to reading --- and reviewing here --- the third and final book in the series, World of Trouble, soon.

It occurs to me that the psychological tension of The Last Policeman trilogy bears interesting parallels to Nevil Shute’s novel On the Beach (my review here). Though Shute’s novel opens after a catastrophic nuclear war has utterly destroyed the North Hemisphere, it is set on the South coast of Australia, and the characters of his story initially believe they’ve been spared the worst. Gradually, however, they come to realize that the deadly radiation is drifting southward on the trade winds, and they recognize that their end --- their apocalypse --- is imminent, and unavoidable. As does Winters, though without the detective story, Shute examines a population experiencing and attempting to come to grips with the growing awareness that civilization, and probably humanity as a whole, is living in its final days. And, as in Winters’ story, some face the end-times by carrying on with what they see as their duty --- unchanged by the new reality, while others come undone in the face of the crushing finality advancing toward them.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Book Review: "Miller's Valley" by Anna Quindlen

Miller’s Valley (2016)
Anna Quindlen (1953)










271 pages

It's a wiggly word, "progress": a two-lane gravel road turned into four lanes paved that makes life a noisy misery for the people with houses there, a cornfield turned into a strip mall with a  hair salon, a supermarket, and a car wash.  Corn's better than a car wash.  We washed our own cars with a garden hose until our kids got old enough to do it for us. (5)
Over a period of decades the families of a tiny farming community in a secluded Appalachian valley of central Pennsylvania find themselves increasingly at the mercy of floodwaters in Anna Quindlen’s engaging novel Miller’s Valley. But despite requiring sump pumps that over the years come to be running nearly continuously, and enduring rain storms that sometimes lift the water level to their front steps, the townspeople long balk at and obstruct government representatives who frequent their town ever more often with proposals to buy out homes so that the area can be turned into a reservoir. Their families have lived in the valley for many generations, and they are loathe to give up their homesteads and their way of life.

The Millers, living on farmland that’s been in the family for some 200 years, give the valley, and the novel, its name. The story follows the life of Mary Margret Miller, Mimi, a young girl on the verge of adolescence in the mid-1960’s when talk of converting the valley into a reservoir begins in earnest. Her oldest brother already married and living near his job in Philadelphia, Mimi lives a bucolic life with her parents and her second, teenage brother, Tommy. The tranquil isolation of the valley has lent Mimi and her family, as well as their neighbors in the community, a sense of enduring permanence --- but this cherished stability begins to dissolve in the face of the reality of the steadily rising water table, as well as the dramatic social and political changes of the 1960’s.

For many years, the troubling inundation of water seems to be only another element of the natural world that can be, simply must be, accommodated; the water may win some battles, but with hard work and ingenuity the families expect to win the war. The increasingly invasive presence of the outside world, on the other hand, proves more ineluctable for the valley’s residents. The persistent and ever increasing pressure exerted by visiting government officials to convince families to sell their homes and relocate so that the reservoir can be created, serves as Mimi’s initial glimpse into the power of outside forces to penetrate into the heart of the isolated valley, and thereby affect her life as well as that of her family and neighbors. And while the government threatens to impose this radical change on the valley at some uncertain point in the future, the Vietnam War leaves its mark quickly and harshly, a dramatic reminder that the valley is no longer the quiet and secluded home it once was.  As Mimi passes through high school these outside forces compel her to begin thinking more intently and broadly about her own future, to reassess her relationship to the disappearing valley of her childhood.

An aspect of the story that I particularly enjoyed was the wonderful job Quindlen has done in creating the language and mannerisms of her characters. I grew up in a small town only a few hundred miles west of the central Pennsylvanian setting of the story, and though my hometown was less isolated than the fictional Miller’s valley, I was immediately transported back to the social environment of my youth by both the phrases the characters used, as well as the often curt and clipped, if still friendly, ways in which they interacted with one another.

Another more widespread characteristic associated with small towns also plays a role in Quindlen’s story: carefully hidden secrets, motivations and fears that can seethe just below the surface both within and between families. For the residents of Miller’s valley these become ever more difficult to hide in the face of the upheavals caused by the rising tide of both water and modernity, as young and old find their lives and friendships upended. Though some become nostalgic for the valley’s earlier isolated innocence, others find an opportunity to break free of smothering, small-town frictions and expectations.

Ultimately, Miller’s Valley is a powerful coming of age story, as Mimi, her family, and the community around them grapple with a dramatically and rapidly changing world.  As Mimi observes at a critical moment in her own life, one which offers radically different choices for her future : "I just sat there, amazed at the way the whole world had just tilted while we were sitting at the table." (202)


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Read quotes from this book


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, August 7, 2016

Book Review: "For a Little While" by Rick Bass

For a Little While (2016)
Rick Bass (1958)











471 pages
But other nights the storms would wash through quickly, windy drenching downpours that soaked us, and it was fun to sit on the rocks and let the storm hit us and beat against us. The nights were always warm, though cooler after those rains, and the smells were so sharp as to make us imagine that something new was out there, something happening that had never happened to anyone before. (31)
The deep and powerful connection between people and the natural world animates the 25 short stories by Rick Bass collected in For a Little While. Whether a pristine wilderness in north-west Montana or a refinery-polluted river emptying into the Gulf of Mexico, nature plays an indispensable role in his characters’ lives, grounding their thoughts and actions in something bigger and more enduring than themselves. Reading these empathetic and affecting stories reminds us to cherish the wonder and grandeur of the world, when we might otherwise pass through unawares, lost in our quotidian concerns.

As in his earlier collection, The Sky, the Stars and the Wilderness, (my review here) the rhythms of nature seem to guide Bass’ writing in these stories, with a meditative, almost reverent pace giving way to occasional moments of intensity and clarity for his characters. And the nature they encounter is not some simplified, picture-book ideal to be looked at from afar; rather, its true beauty reveals itself as one engages with it, enters into it with a spirit that seeks out its mysteries. It can be dangerous --- making one pay for ignorance of its ways, inattentiveness to its signs or just plain bad luck --- but if open and sensitive to its rhythms, Bass’s stories show how nature can also complement and deepen a person’s life in myriad ways.

The story In Ruth’s Country, from which comes the quote that opens this review, takes place in the open, desert scrubland around Moab, Utah, where a boy and his uncle herd cattle for a living. Unlike the majority of the town, the two are not Mormons, and when the boy develops a bit of a crush on a Mormon girl, he knows to be wary of crossing the strict defined, if unspoken, cultural rules that exist between the Mormons and the rest of the townspeople. One day the girl approaches him, however, and the two wander repeatedly into the vast, anonymous countryside, as they experiment with and in their new relationship. But the non-denominational power and beauty they experience in the nature they explore can only mask for a time the complexities of the human world against which they are pulling. Just as the cattle from different owners mingle together in the unfenced countryside before their masters periodically rounded them up into their respective herds, Ruth and the boy find it difficult to completely break free of the ties of their respective worlds.

The wonderful and moving story Her First Elk tells of “a young woman, just out of college --- her beloved father already three years in the grave.” (270) As the story opens, the young woman climbs up into the wooded mountains of western Montana in the pre-dawn. Her father had loved hunting, and she follows in his steps, seeking through this activity that he loved a connection to the father she misses so dearly. After she takes down a huge elk in the opening glory of the morning dawn, the implications and consequences of that one shot resonate forward, and eventually leading her to recognize a vast interconnectedness, between people and with nature, that has arisen from that one shot. Ultimately she discovers an even deeper connection to her father than she had expected or even hoped to find.

Though the woman in Her First Elk --- or at least her namesake --- appears in a subsequent story, the characters otherwise vary broadly from one story to the next, from high school students finding beauty in an industrial wasteland, to a dog trainer lost in the far northern wilderness of Canada; from loggers who love their work despite a stream of injuries, to residents of a decaying town who live in the nostalgia of their town’s past glories from a time before the Mississippi River suddenly one night shifted farther west. All of these characters share an intimate connection to the world they pass through, a recognition --- sometime only subconsciously --- of both its visceral wonder and its fundamental connection to their lives.

Bass does without sudden wild twists or dramatic deaths in his stories. Instead, this is writing to savor and delight in, writing that serves as an inspiration to get out and take a slow stroll through the woods or even just one’s local neighborhood. A reminder to not just pass through the world, but to observe its ways, and relish them; to recognize, in fact, our wondrous ability to do so, for, to recall Wordsworth
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.


Read quotes from Rick Bass' writings here.

My review of an earlier collection of short stories from Rick Bass, The Sky, The Stars, The Wilderness, is here.

Used as a story preface in The Sky, The Stars, The Wilderness, find a beautiful quote from John Graves reproduced here here.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Monday, July 25, 2016

Book Review: "Heroes and Beasts of Spain" by Manuel Chaves Nogales

Heroes and Beasts of Spain (1937)
Manuel Chaves Nogales (1897-1944)
Translated from the Spanish by Luis de Baeza 










303 pages

Much can be learned about the Spanish Civil War from books that detail the history of the conflict, such as Hugh Thomas’ now classic The Spanish Civil War. Particularly for civil wars, however, while history books may do an excellent job providing an understanding of the broad events of the war, they generally struggle --- and often seem to fail --- to convey the extent of the breakdown in civil order, and the resulting brutality that can occur at the level of the individual in society. For such an understanding one must needs turn to more personal narratives, such as (auto-) biographical or fictional accounts.

Thomas’ work, for example, covers the history of the war, including the military, political and social situation, and in that context, the violence that occurred within the Spanish population behind the front lines. He describes, for example, how authorities on both sides struggled to control a tendency among the Spanish population to use the war as a cover to violently resolve personal grudges, disappointments and hatreds that were at most only tangentially related to the larger conflict. He also goes into some detail on the fratricidal killings that occurred between supposed allies on the Republican side, such as between the communists and the anarchists, and even among various factions of the communists themselves.

But such high-level descriptions fail to convey the depth of what occurred during that war, the descent into violence that has left scars that have lasted across generations. For such an understanding, one must reach for more personal recollections of the conflict.

Certainly anecdotal histories can struggle to meet the standard of rigorous proof required by historians. Nonetheless, such accounts can play an important role in providing depth and completeness to the understanding of the history of a period, by telling the story of individuals, of individual experiences and acts, individual impacts. For the Spanish Civil War in particular, journalist and author Manuel Chaves Nogales’ collection of short stories Heroes and Beasts of Spain, fills that void, using fictionalized accounts that capture the barbarism and irrationality he witnessed in the first months of the war.

Chaves Nogales left Spain in November 1936, some four months into the conflict. As he makes clear in the Prologue, his goal as a writer was “to bring forward by means of works based on facts or fiction what I considered to be the paramount truth, namely, an insuperable hatred of all stupidity and cruelty.” (3) He was a strong supporter of the Republic, a confident in fact of the president of the Spanish Republic, Manuel Aza&ntilde, when the rebel uprising began.  (For an overview of the conflict, see my review of Hugh Thomas’ The Spanish Civil War, here.)

 Chaves Nogales had a visceral distaste for dictatorship of any kind, and so was equally disillusioned by both the fascist rebels, as well as the communist and anarchist revolutionaries who, for broader political and military reasons, took control of the Republican side as the war continued, displacing the more center-left elements of the government.  Finally leaving Spain in late 1936, Chaves Nogales wrote:
I was fully convinced that all was lost and that there was nothing left to save; terror had made life impossible … [I am leaving] not only because blood was spilled by gangs of murderers who brought Red terror to Madrid, but also because of the death sown in the town among women and children by Franco’s [Rebel] air raids. I was as much afraid of the barbarity of the Moors, the bandits of the Foreign Legion and Falange (the Spanish Fascists), as of the illiterate Anarchists and Communists. (5) 
A few lines later he adds:
The final issue of the present struggle does not interest me very much. I am not interested to know that the future dictator of Spain will spring out of one side or the other of the trench. It is immaterial to me. The strong man, the leader, the victor, who at the end of the struggle will plant a masterful foot in the pool of blood into which Spain has been plunged, the man who with a bloody knife between his teeth will keep his country in strict servitude for at least a quarter of a century, may emerge from either side of ‘no man’s land’.(7) 
How prescient he was: the leader of the Rebel side, General Francisco Franco, ruled over Spain as dictator for some 35 years after the end of the war.

The stories he has written are not, in terms of language and structure, crafted works of subtlety and nuance.  Raw and direct, they read as fictionalized accounts of scenes Chaves Nogales witnessed or heard about, characterizations of life in Spain during the war. They demonstrate the bloodthirsty irrationality that gripped both sides, the violence that people perpetrated against even others of their own side who they felt were not staunch enough adherents to their beliefs. Chaves Nogales’ stories represent a desperate cry for the mercy of liberty in the midst of an ugly and brutal conflict.

The collection consists of nine stories, the majority of which take place on the Republican side of the war, though several straddle the front lines, or are told from the Rebel side. Except for the names of larger cities, place names seem to be invented --- perhaps a method by which Chaves Nogales could emphasize that the barbarism and senseless violence he describes were not isolated incidents in particular towns, but rather commonplace events throughout Spain during the war.

Several of the stories describe aspects of the war-within-a-war that occurred between various revolutionary groups on the Republican side during the conflict, infighting that led to significant violence and death amongst the Republican forces, ultimately undermining their efforts against the Rebels. In The Iron Column, a group by that name has formed from Anarchists who revolted against the discipline that Republican leaders attempted to impose on their troops to put an end to the pillaging some of the troops were using the cover of the war to engage in. Splinter groups such as the Iron Column broke off ostensibly to root out and kill fascists hiding in Republican held lands, but in reality “under the pretext of ridding the country of Fascists these men went about the villages and hamlets [in Republican-controlled territory] killing and looting in the most brutal manner and without fear.” (109) In Hugh Thomas’ work of history, we can learn that such a group by that name did indeed exist, operating largely beyond control of local and national authorities; in Chaves Nogales’ story we confront up-close the dark reality of the chaos and death that they perpetrated on the towns they devastated. 

The Massacre tells a similar story of uncontrolled violence, by a group of thugs in Madrid calling themselves the Revenge Patrol. Feeling that the government was too timid, the group took it upon themselves to root out and kill anyone they thought might be a fascist and so a supporter of the Rebels. In fact, as Chaves Nogales writes:
Every army soldier [on the Republican side], from the rank of sergeant upwards, was a suspected Fascist. [Rebel] General Mola had said that, besides the four columns of Rebel troops marching on the capital, there was another column inside the town, the “Fifth Column”, ready to co-operate with the attackers. On few occasions in the history of mankind have such idle words been the direct cause of so many deaths. Each time the militiamen in search of suspects were confronted by proofs of innocence that might have spared a life, someone mentioned the Fifth Column and, proof or no proof, the suspect was dragged before the firing squad to be mowed down at down in the open spaces around Madrid. (178)
The Revenge Patrol certainly took Mola’s comment to heart, seeking out and killing anyone they found who could not conclusively prove conclusively their fealty to the Republican side.

In the final and perhaps most damning of the stories, two workers at a factory in Republican territory who are accused of being fascists desperately attempt to defend themselves and so save their own lives. The two are apolitical, and simply want to work to feed their families. One of the men had belonged to a so-called yellow syndicate before the war, a trade-union group organized by the factory owners; now, in civil war Spain, the revolutionaries viewed such people, who had generally joined the earlier organizations simply in order to be able to work, as suspected fascists, traitors to be eliminated. The second man, Daniel, has no particular political history that the revolutionaries can oust him on --- he is simply uninterested in any political parties or movements. Daniel finds himself in an almost Kafkaesque position as the story develops; as Chaves Nogales writes: “The delegates hated him even more … for the strong-willed and courageous Daniel was a more dangerous enemy to the cause than most the poor devils who were being shot every day. A man like Daniel was the worst enemy of revolution and of the dictatorship of the proletariat.” (295)  Ultimately Daniel can only prove his loyalty by sacrificing himself to a cause he neither supports nor opposes.

And here was perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the war for the centrist Chaves Nogales, who in the Prologue states that he was writing as “a citizen of a democratic and parliamentarian republic.” (2)   For someone for whom liberty was of overriding importance in human life an affairs, the fall of Spain in the Civil War was highlighted by the case of people like Daniel:
[H]e was condemned. Why? For the same reasons the bourgeoisie condemned during the old regime those who were not for them. Liberty was the enemy. Herein lay their weakness and their defect. For the day when the council expelled Comrade Daniel from the factory the cause of the people was lost. The Rebels’ guns were battering in vain against the trenches defending Madrid; the Italian and the German airplanes were killing in vain women and children in the city. The cause of the people had been lost simply because the Council of Workers of a factory had decided to expel a comrade for the sole crime of being a man who believed in the rights of individual liberty. (296)


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The book was originally written and published in Spanish, in 1937.  The English language version also appeared in 1937, and the translation appears to have been a quick work to get the book onto English-language bookshelves while the war still raged, with the English at many points a bit stilted and awkward.

 For some of the information on Manuel Chaves Nogales in this review, I consulted the Diccionario onomástico de la guerra civil (Onomastic Dictionary of the Spanish Civil War); my review of that work here.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Friday, July 8, 2016

Book Review: "The Last Policeman" by Ben Winters

The Last Policeman (2012)
Ben H. Winters (1976)










336 pages

Though not generally a big fan of crime fiction, I have enjoyed the intricate machinations and dark vision in works by authors such as Philip Kerr (Berlin Noir, A Philosophical Inquiry) and more recently Pierre Lemaitre (Alex). Post-apocalyptic fiction on the other hand I can’t get enough of --- I’m attracted by authors’ explorations of the psychological impacts of a cataclysmic event: the reactions of individuals, families, communities and nations to an inconceivable new reality.

Having read Ben Winters’ story The Last Policeman, it occurs to me that there can actually exist quite a bit of overlap in the psychological drama found in the best of both crime stories and post-apocalypic fiction. Winters’ novel initially caught my attention because of its apocalyptic story line: a looming asteroid strike augers the end of civilization. And, indeed, Winters provides a captivating exploration into the complex dynamics of a world facing imminent, massive destruction. But the main story line is pure crime fiction, delivering an engrossing detective story.  Oddly one could almost consider it noir, for though the main character bears little resemblance to the cynical, hard-bitten stereotype detective of classical noir, the psychological lens of imminent global destruction provides a fatalistic darkness to every page.

Set in Concord, New Hampshire, the story opens with Detective Hank Palace examining a victim hanging by a belt in a bathroom stall at a fast food joint. In a world only months away from a devastating encounter with an asteroid suicide rates have skyrocketed; in Concord the method of choice has been hanging, so Palace’s colleagues immediately write off this latest corpse as one more “hanger.” Looking at the body slumped over dead in the stall, however, Palace can’t shake the feeling that something doesn’t quite seem right about the man’s death --- that it may in fact have been a murder.

Only recently promoted from walking a beat as a police officer, Palace recognizes that the looming asteroid means that his dream job as a detective will ultimately be only a brief career. Nonetheless, and despite rapidly spreading apathy among the population at large as well as his own colleagues on the force, he remains determined to do his job properly and thoroughly right up to the end. This quality of doing one’s work to the best of one’s ability despite the circumstances becomes in a sense his personal coping mechanism, one that he also looks for and admires in others, whatever their particular vocation.

As he pursues the case, Palace reaches back repeatedly to his diligently pursued detective’s training, only to find that the imminence of world-wide destruction has introduced unexpected new motivations and behaviors among the people with whom he deals, requiring him to often re-interpret the evidence he collects. When he does finally solve the case, its resolution comes with a bitter, crushing understanding of the realities of the pre-apocalyptic world he inhabits, a recognition that suddenly throws into question the dogged spirit of simply carrying on as normal that he has prized in himself and others.

Winters has created an engaging, if disquieting, vision of the changes and challenges that a known, imminent apocalyptic event might wreak on people’s behaviors. In the best story telling tradition, we discover this horrific, altered reality --- this crumbling version of our modern world --- indirectly, through a taut detective story that keeps us guessing right up to the final pages.


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This is the first book of a trilogy. The second and third novels, Countdown City and World of Trouble in the set have already been published, and I look forward to reading --- and reviewing --- them soon.



Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Book Review: "Diccionario onomástico de la guerra civil" by Mateo Madridejos

Diccionario onomástico de la guerra civil (2006)
(Onomastic Dictionary of the Spanish Civil War)
Mateo Madridejos (1932)










417 pages

The origins, events and aftermath of the Spanish Civil War have served as the inspiration for an ever growing number of books on the period, among them both histories and historical fiction. When reading any of these works, the complexity of the political situation during the Second Spanish Republic of the pre-war period, as well as on the Rebel and Republican sides during the conflict, can make the period and its principal figures a challenging one to sort out, particularly for a non-expert. A work such as the classic treatment of the war by Hugh Thomas (The Spanish Civil War which I reviewed here), for example, contains an almost overwhelming cast of political, military and intellectual characters, and, however well written the work may be, it can useful and helpful to have more background information on them.

To the rescue comes a book by Mateo Madridejos, the Diccionario onomástico de la guerra civil (Onomastic Dictionary of the Spanish Civil War). Madridejos’ book contains short biographies on 334 of the principal protagonists of the period. From a few paragraphs to several pages depending on the relative importance of each individual, these biographical sketches give a reader a quick, clear summary of the backgrounds of key figures, their involvement in the events of the period and what became of them after the war.

The book also contains several pages of photographs of some of the more important people Madridejos describes, which I have found helpful as an additional aid in differentiating them when reading histories of the period.

Unfortunately, I’m not aware of an English version of the book. If, however, you know some Spanish, and are willing to lean on a Spanish-English dictionary to fill in the gaps, this “dictionary of names” can prove a tremendously useful reference as you read about this dramatic and tragic period in Spain’s history.


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Have you read this book, others by this author, or similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.

For more reviews of books on Spain and its history, click a link to my bookshelf of:
Spain and Spanish History

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Fiction or Non-Fiction

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Book Review: "Keep Curious and Carry a Banana: Wisdom from the World of Curious George"

Keep Curious and Carry a Banana: Wisdom From the World of Curious George (2016)
Justin Martin and Liza Charlesworth











80 pages

A selection from the delightfully vibrant illustrations of the Curious George books of Margaret and H. A. Rey serve as the centerpieces of the book Keep Curious and Carry a Banana. Accompanying each illustration reproduced here is an aphorism that draws from the outlook with which Curious George approaches life in those stories.

The sayings associated with each illustration --- what the subtitle describes as Wisdom From the World of Curious George --- do not provide particularly deep or novel insights. Instead, the charm of the book lies in pairing these gentle suggestions with the little monkey’s playful spirit, as demonstrated by the pair of pages from the book reproduced below.

Beyond the simple pleasure of enjoying these illustrations in a new context, this collection serves as a reminder that finding ways to ease our path through life need not always be a weighty proposition, and indeed may be best accomplished with a bit of play.



Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf