When a kid came home from school claiming that Misty Copeland was the first ballerina to break the race barrier, it caused consternation among some whWhen a kid came home from school claiming that Misty Copeland was the first ballerina to break the race barrier, it caused consternation among some who had gone before, and seemed to be completely forgotten.
This book sets out to fix that by giving a vivid, well-researched account of the founding of the Dance Theatre of Harlem, and focuses in on the lives of five of its original ballerinas. This long-overdue examination highlights an important segment of Black cultural and artistic history by restoring the women to their proper groundbreaking place. And it was groundbreaking. Not only had these women had the ferocious discipline required of a ballet dancer, they had to face the nasty barrier that had been keeping the ballet world white.
The book shifts skillfully between the women's artistic and personal lives, highlighting their families, their teachers, and their colleagues in the world of dance, giving us a vivid portrait of each ballerina. The research is impressive, with an emphasis on presenting the women with their individual voices. With the publication of this book, their overdue credit is re-established--something that Misty Copeland herself would applaud.
I think one of the best aspects of the book is how it shows not only how tough they were to endure the long-established and unexamined racism of the dance world, but how much they supported one another. ...more
This is a gorgeously written saga covering three generations of a Black family living in South Carolina. The narrator is Mika, the youngest daughter. This is a gorgeously written saga covering three generations of a Black family living in South Carolina. The narrator is Mika, the youngest daughter. Though during the course of the book the narrative voice experiments with POV, and style, in particular when looking through the eyes of the older characters, especially the grandparents, Teeta and Weesie.
Dameron writes powerfully, bringing these characters to life. Threaded with compassion, and anger, and humor, the narrative skillfully imbues everyone with complexity. I'm far too ignorant about the Black experience to presume any judgments; I finished this book, after a two day nearly non-stop read, feeling as if I'd recognize the characters if I met them on the street, or even heard their voices. I was left with a sharp sense that we need more voices like this in mainstream literature....more
A terrific tracing of how legends of the Wild West grew--some deliberately, others just by going from mouth to ear. James is clearly an expert in the A terrific tracing of how legends of the Wild West grew--some deliberately, others just by going from mouth to ear. James is clearly an expert in the field, tracking down various tall tales, especially related to mining and miners, and how those spread: the Gold Rush was a galvanizing influence.
There are references here to silver mining, which was of especial interest to me as my spouse inherited a box of letters from an ancestor of his who wrote home about the perils of silver mining in Colorado and then life in California, and much of the way he spoke of what he heard about resonates with the way that James discusses the evolution of those tall tales....more
This was an absorbing read, impeccably researched, thoughtfully constructed, and impressive in notes and bibliography. The book reached brilliance in This was an absorbing read, impeccably researched, thoughtfully constructed, and impressive in notes and bibliography. The book reached brilliance in the vivid depiction of exactly what it was like to be toiling through rough country in search of the enemy especially in the early years of the revolution, when the forming nation wasn't even certain it wanted to be a nation.
I read this, as it happened, while I was traveling through the very areas Arnold and his troops struggled through. From the train windows, as I crossed the border, I could look out at the beautiful countryside and imagine just how terrible it was to be compounding with that terrain through the heat of summer, and the bitter winters.
I appreciated the plentiful quotations from period sources, and I looked forward to the revelation of "Why?" But we really don't get a why. What Kelly gives us are strong arguments supporting Arnold's decision to jump the fence, but we don't actually have direct evidence for his inner process. It's clear that Kiley went spelunking for clues, and these are on display, but the reader will still have to decide for themselves.
The aftermath, and what Arnold meant as a symbol, and the consequences of his actions--both for himself and for the early republic--are well laid out. Overall, an excellent addition to modern scholarship about the American Revolution....more
While this book focused on the Dalton Gang and their exploits through what became known as the "Wild West," Clavin--who appears to be well versed in tWhile this book focused on the Dalton Gang and their exploits through what became known as the "Wild West," Clavin--who appears to be well versed in this area of North American history--delves not just into the rather sad background of the Dalton family, but he gives us glimpses of other outlaws of the time, famous and not so famous. And then (if these outlaws survived the sudden death common to outlaws) where they ended up.
The style is a real pleasure to read, gleaming with humor. Though I don't usually listen to audio books, it occurred to me that this one would make great listening on a cross-country trip along Route 66, or through the areas once considered the Wild West.
Clavin gives us a wry look at the various non-Robin Hood robberies of these outlaws. These guys were no friends to the people--they were outright thieves. Trains as well as banks, including ordinary farmhouses, resulting in shoot-outs and cross country posse hunts. The climax occurs on October 5, 1892 when the gang decided to rob two banks at once in the small town of Coffeyville, Kansas, when many of the gang ended up dead. Only one Dalton survived. Others ended up in rodeos, and as actors in early movies, when all the stunt riding was done by the actors themselves. One or two even hopped the fence and became lawmen.
There are all kinds of side histories that I found interesting as well. I really enjoyed this book....more
The thing about being a kid in Los Angeles during the fifties is that, in spite of the smog, it seemed in many ways a fantasyland. There were giganticThe thing about being a kid in Los Angeles during the fifties is that, in spite of the smog, it seemed in many ways a fantasyland. There were gigantic doughnuts, a restaurant shaped like a hat, and then there were what I thought of as castles: one of these was the stately LDS Temple, up on its hillside overlooking my neighborhood some five miles south. (On rare days when the smog blew out, I could see it from the cliffs above the bean fields--now the Hughes Center--where I rode my bike.)
The other was the Chateau Marmont, which I glimpsed a few times as we traveled along Sunset, then saw more as a teen in the sixties, and finally, passed pretty much every day when I lived in Hollywood during the seventies. I never ventured indoors--too bad. I learned from this book I might have even been able to rent there in the seventies; it was certainly cheaper than our crowded apt building, with gangsters to the north of us, and call girls to the south.
Anyway, when I saw this title on NetGalley, I grabbed it. And I'm glad I did. Shawn Levy has done a bang-up job delving into not only the history of the building, but the immediate area of Sunset Blvd around it, all familiar to me.
Of course there's also plenty of gossip about the film, music, and other famous people who lived or visited there. Levy appears to have not just collected a ton of great quips and quotes, but done the legwork to track down the veracity of these quotes, sometimes with interesting side stories.
There are also more chilling bits, such as the fact (I had not known this) that Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate were living in the Marmont before she, at advanced pregnancy, wanted her kid to be born in a house--so they rented a place not far away from Doris Day's son, a music producer . . . who had recently turned down Charles Manson's wish to be in a band the man had been trying to develop.
Equally chilling was the story of John Belushi's crash and burn, which was at the Marmont; I found myself skimming the latter portion of the book, just because I'm not familiar with most of the big names of today, whose claim to fame seems mostly to be drug excesses, not interesting to me. But that's nothing against the book.
I enjoyed the vivid descriptions of early Los Angeles (his word pictures of the area matched those of my spouse's grandmother, who used to go up there often), and how the place developed. Levy divides the book into parts, doing an excellent job of capturing the evolution of West Hollywood as overlooked by the Marmont over the decades.
He writes with sympathy of the many diverse characters who found a welcome there over the years. While some guests/residents got the boot, these were nonpayment or destructive behavior, and not (unlike the other famous hotels of the area) for skin color or preference in partners.
Levy's style is breezy, at times witty, vivid, packing quite a bit of information into the entertaining pages. I really enjoyed the book--and I think I've found a holiday gift for certain hard-to-shop-for relatives and friends.
Copy provided by NetGalley
Merged review:
The thing about being a kid in Los Angeles during the fifties is that, in spite of the smog, it seemed in many ways a fantasyland. There were gigantic doughnuts, a restaurant shaped like a hat, and then there were what I thought of as castles: one of these was the stately LDS Temple, up on its hillside overlooking my neighborhood some five miles south. (On rare days when the smog blew out, I could see it from the cliffs above the bean fields--now the Hughes Center--where I rode my bike.)
The other was the Chateau Marmont, which I glimpsed a few times as we traveled along Sunset, then saw more as a teen in the sixties, and finally, passed pretty much every day when I lived in Hollywood during the seventies. I never ventured indoors--too bad. I learned from this book I might have even been able to rent there in the seventies; it was certainly cheaper than our crowded apt building, with gangsters to the north of us, and call girls to the south.
Anyway, when I saw this title on NetGalley, I grabbed it. And I'm glad I did. Shawn Levy has done a bang-up job delving into not only the history of the building, but the immediate area of Sunset Blvd around it, all familiar to me.
Of course there's also plenty of gossip about the film, music, and other famous people who lived or visited there. Levy appears to have not just collected a ton of great quips and quotes, but done the legwork to track down the veracity of these quotes, sometimes with interesting side stories.
There are also more chilling bits, such as the fact (I had not known this) that Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate were living in the Marmont before she, at advanced pregnancy, wanted her kid to be born in a house--so they rented a place not far away from Doris Day's son, a music producer . . . who had recently turned down Charles Manson's wish to be in a band the man had been trying to develop.
Equally chilling was the story of John Belushi's crash and burn, which was at the Marmont; I found myself skimming the latter portion of the book, just because I'm not familiar with most of the big names of today, whose claim to fame seems mostly to be drug excesses, not interesting to me. But that's nothing against the book.
I enjoyed the vivid descriptions of early Los Angeles (his word pictures of the area matched those of my spouse's grandmother, who used to go up there often), and how the place developed. Levy divides the book into parts, doing an excellent job of capturing the evolution of West Hollywood as overlooked by the Marmont over the decades.
He writes with sympathy of the many diverse characters who found a welcome there over the years. While some guests/residents got the boot, these were nonpayment or destructive behavior, and not (unlike the other famous hotels of the area) for skin color or preference in partners.
Levy's style is breezy, at times witty, vivid, packing quite a bit of information into the entertaining pages. I really enjoyed the book--and I think I've found a holiday gift for certain hard-to-shop-for relatives and friends.
The original leader of the OSS was Bill Donovan, about whom I've read other books. This was the first time I also got a good look at chemist Stanley LThe original leader of the OSS was Bill Donovan, about whom I've read other books. This was the first time I also got a good look at chemist Stanley Lovell, who was told it was his job to be the Professor Moriarty of the OSS, something he took on with apparently gleeful enthusiasm.
This pair led a team of oddballs, science nerds, and determined experimenters to help out the war effort.As I was reading that, I kept thinking back to my teenage reading of Ian Fleming's James Bond yarns, and the trickster items like poison delivery systems (pens, etc), harmless items that turn into bombs, surreptitious cameras, and using bats and other creatures to carry weapons to blow up.
Lisle is clearly having fun writing about the The Dirty Tricks Department, their failures as well as their successes, so much fun that one could overlook the astounding amount of research he did. Well over a quarter of the book is citations.
I think I would have enjoyed this book more fully fifty years ago, before I was really aware of the fallout of such dirty tricks, especially against harmless bystanders. The glee with which these people played around with destructive materials reminds me of the glee with which the atom bomb developers played around with terrible forces of destruction. Brings home to me how our curious monkey forebears are not very far from us, are they? Especially in men. Though there were women on the team as well....more
The cover is totally ridiculous, and I hope it doesn't drive away readers. I don't usually read western romance, but the mail order bride trope has beThe cover is totally ridiculous, and I hope it doesn't drive away readers. I don't usually read western romance, but the mail order bride trope has been a draw ever since I read a collection of actual memoirs of mail order brides some fifty years ago.
I'm so glad I opted for this one, which is set in Denver City, the Territory of Kansas in 1859. It's an important date to note, because of the political ructions Kansas was going through with respect to statehood, and what it meant to the rest of the young nation.
Our heroine is Marigold, whose sister Pearl actually was the mail order bride. Marigold, divorced and flat broke and totally disgraced, needs a fresh start. She comes to a town that seems to be made mainly of mud and mess, to marry grumpy Virgil Gardner, who needs a wife to take over his household and deal with his three kids while he tries desperately to get his new mining company going.
Of course you know they are going to have the hots for each other, but are fighting it. This is a romance. But given that predictable substrate, what you get here is a range of delightful characters, and a sure touch with period detail, after what seems to be impressive research. The book just kept getting better when Pearl shows up...
I loved the vivid descriptions, the characters, the brisk pacing, and above all the humor.
The short review is: I don't like horror, don't read it, don't watch it, but I devoured this book.
Back in the late seventies and early eighties, when The short review is: I don't like horror, don't read it, don't watch it, but I devoured this book.
Back in the late seventies and early eighties, when I worked in Hollywood, all I saw around me was white faces. And in executive positions, white male faces, often making idiotic decisions, which is the main reason I got out of that world.
So when I saw this book on offer at NetGalley I grabbed it. Wittily written, it's a terrific overview of not just the Black experience in horror films, but in film in general, though necessarily summarized. I did recognize a few titles, and had thought those action films rather than horror, which suggests the authors used a generous umbrella in order to make their points. The whole section on "woke horror" was especially intriguing.
My only complaint might be how the timeline jumped around, and how much repetition there was--but these are artifacts of collected essays, often. I certainly wouldn't dis recommend the book on that score. It was such a witty, enlightening read. (And depressing, when one reflects on how far we have to go, yet.)...more
**spoiler alert** It's so strange to think of a book set in 1979 as a historical novel. But reading this brought home that it is ancient history for t**spoiler alert** It's so strange to think of a book set in 1979 as a historical novel. But reading this brought home that it is ancient history for the audience it's intended for--the voice is quite modern, not especially seventies, but otherwise Boyer did a great job with the details of the time.
She also gets into what it was like to be partly from an ethnicity that took a sudden, scary turn into unpopularity, when the Iranian Hostage Crisis happened. Meanwhile, Jasmine wants to get into NYU early, and needs an extracurricular dazzle . . . like running for school election. Some details of that seemed a stretch, but that wasn't the point.
What we have is Jasmine trying her teenage best to blend, while her brother Ali is very passionate about Iranian citizens' rights, and the deeply fractured situation in the Middle East. (Still is, sadly.) Jasmine has a very volatile friend group, a cute guy she's attracted to, and a very determined aunt visiting her, who wants her to focus on her heritage.
In order to win that election, Jasmine begins to slide down the slippery slope of political bad decisions. (Cue Nixon references, heh!)
The story is fast-paced, and the crisis thread and Ali were first rate. (In fact, I kind of wish it had been Ali's story, as I didn't much care for some of Jasmine's friends, or a certain cheating plot thread). I also wish that Jasmine's arc hadn't been downward slide for most of the book, with a sudden 180 at the end.
But there are a lot of other aspects that make it a terrific read for the older teen. (Though it's set senior year, there is a lot of casual sex talk, blue language, and underage drinking. All things that happened at the time, but parental guidance might still be wanted for the readership.)...more
Desolation is a town in the Wild West remote enough that gunslingers and others who want to escape their pasts and settle down can actually do that. TDesolation is a town in the Wild West remote enough that gunslingers and others who want to escape their pasts and settle down can actually do that. The only problem is, enough gunslingers have shown up, resorting to old habits, that the sheriff (who used to be a deadly gunslinger himself) and the mayor (a woman) passed a law that these men had a month to either get married and settle down, or find a job and stick to it. Otherwise, they'd get the boot.
Adam Brady rides into town, and finds a group of men standing around. He has no idea what's going on, and he's dismayed to recognize the sheriff, who he's been trying to avoid; he notices some women, especially a tall one who wears trousers. Too many things going on at once; he follows the crowd, including shouting "I do!" when they shout--and then discovers that he's married.
Sort of. Except that neither he nor Nora have signed the marriage certificate. Nora needs to be married, but she wants a husband only long enough to secure the deed on her property, then she wants him to ride off, so he can't claim it as his, as the law decrees.
Meanwhile, Adam doesn't want to leave, but he also doesn't want to be married. And so as he fails at one job after another, the two encounter one another, and sparks fly.
It's a light-hearted romance, so you know what's going to happen. It's a bit slow through the middle, as the two never communicate what's most important, and carry on the are we or aren't we, but once they get past that, the second half has a lot of emotional roller coaster and some nice action.
I love this town (I really enjoyed the first in the series) and I'm eager to find out the other men's pasts, especially the Preacher. The side characters are a ton of fun, the humor brisk and lively, making it a fun read. Looking forward to the next....more
When I was a kid in the fifties, the radio waves were full of ballads about the Old West, and many of them mentioned the Texas Rangers, who brought laWhen I was a kid in the fifties, the radio waves were full of ballads about the Old West, and many of them mentioned the Texas Rangers, who brought law and order to the chaos of the Old West. As time went on, the name cropped up from time to time in American History courses and reading, and not always with approbation, such as wholesale slaughters against people whose only crime seems to have been speaking Spanish.
This looked like a good book to get a sense of the history of the rangers, and in a sense, it is. The author clearly did mountains of research about individual rangers, and the people they encountered, and so delves not only into the Rangers' exploits but into vital aspects of Texas history, such as cattle rustling, fencing vs free range, barb wire cutting, law, politics--and politics means not only politicians, but the community's attitudes, such as those who willingly or for money served as snitches.
That makes for a mosaic of a book, bouncing from historical figure to situation, sometimes ranging back and forth in time. Central seems to be F Company's battle against the Conner family, who appear to have lived on the margins, hot tempered and ready to shoot anything and anyone. Many of them died young, and took neighbors and rivals with them.
At best, one gets a sense of the painfully evolving control of chaos in those times, when waves of white people pushed westward, claiming vast tracts of land from those who had lived there for centuries, and building towns to serve themselves. Where it falls down is on the Rangers' treatment of people other than those white settlers; it also fails to take a hard look at the character of the Rangers, and of men who like to pick up guns and shoot other people. Sort of a timely topic....more
The subject is women who inherited buckets of money, how they were treated, and how they lived.
Though the structure begins with the seventeenth centurThe subject is women who inherited buckets of money, how they were treated, and how they lived.
Though the structure begins with the seventeenth century in England, and moves up to the twentieth century, occasionally Thompson jumps around, sometimes for comparison, and sometimes because of connections across generations. After all, the world of the English upper classes is pret-ty insular, and a goodly number of the early heiresses especially were daughters of titled families.
I almost bailed early on when we get a highly fictionalized account of the life of Mary Davies, whose tragic life gets an arch, sarcastic summary by Thompson, full of innuendo without much academic backup. But once Thompson got that out of her system (and it might have been punched up to draw in the reader) there is a lot more reference to primary sources as she settles in to describe the jaw-droppingly awful state of women's rights during those centuries, and how heiress kidnapping and forced marriages was next thing to an established market. So very many of these heiresses were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, too. Yuk. Not that certain super-rich widows faired much better.
Gradually she brings us up through the Victorian period when, at last, the beginnings of laws to protect women slowly began to trickle through Parliament. (Prodded by the cases of rich women--the plights of ordinary women are acknowledged, but lie outside the scope of this book.)
At the far end of the nineteenth century are the famous cases of the Buccaneers--wealthy American women who came over wanting titles. Thompson outlines the very well known ones, of course, including a look at Edith Wharton's world, but includes the not-famous, underscoring Wharton's theme that money and titles did not buy happiness: the women who lucked out were more often than not educated, with goals of their own besides being married.
Which sets us up for the Coco Chanel era--fin de siecle and early twentieth century, specifically rich women who lived for themselves, many of them outside wedlock, or not being married at all. A lot of these women became salonistes, or patrons of the arts, and lead the sorts of lives depicted in books and films, hobnobbing with artists and intellectuals, politicians and diplomats, or career adventurers of both sexes.
These women benefitted not only from a gradual push toward more equality before the law--and from being raised to be self-sufficient.
The book ends at the end of the twentieth century, with a grim look at Patty Hearst and Barbara Mackle, with a brief glance at the recent con artist who convinced New York she was an heiress, and bilked a lot of savvy business people of millions before she landed in jail (and with a boffo Netflix deal).
It's an engaging read, though with so broad a scope it's not surprising that it lacks depth.
If I did stars, this set of essays would get all the stars.
These well-written, well-researched essays by a variety of academics and writers examine thIf I did stars, this set of essays would get all the stars.
These well-written, well-researched essays by a variety of academics and writers examine the serious dearth of romance for people of color--while not overlooking the pioneers who published in spite of the hard push of accepted wisdom that only white people read. All through this book shout-outs for early romances aimed for the Black reader get air time. In fact, the list of books at the end, and the bibliography for further reading, are worth the price alone.
But first, enjoy the essays.
We all know that publishing has been, and is, all about book as "product" and what got published was what publishers assumed everyone wanted, everyone being the white book buyer. This generally accepted factoid, and how it is at last crumbling, is examined from all angles in the essays.
The selection is smartly chosen, ranging from academic to enthusiastic writers who talk about fan fiction as well as romance. Queer and trans perspectives are not overlooked, which furnishes a deeply appreciated window into how much Black readers in particular (many with reading tastes much like mine) had to go through to find even a modicum of representation.
The title gives the reader a pretty good idea of Christopher Martin's goal.
There are those who admire Alexander of Macedonia for his charisma, his braThe title gives the reader a pretty good idea of Christopher Martin's goal.
There are those who admire Alexander of Macedonia for his charisma, his bravery, his grasp of military strategy and tactics (and there's a small coterie I've encountered, mostly in the fanfic world, who admires him for his gay relationship with Hephaiston). Then there are those who regard Alexander as the brutal son of a bully so vicious that he was killed by his own bodyguard before launching yet another purposeless war, a bully who happened to be a prince. Alexander began his career as a teenage prince by having an entire town put to the sword, and went from there to conquer over the next fourteen or fifteen years a vast kingdom that he could not possibly hold. To the cost of thousands, some say upwards of a million, innocent lives.
The admirers of Alexander, calling him The Great, include those who embody the warrior mindset. They see greatness in testing the body to the limits, in the pursuit of their country's wars, the ultimate sport of kings. That mindset is excellently illustrated in this memoir.
Chris Martin prefaces each chapter with a summary of incidents in the life of Alexander, then explains early on how he read biographies of successful war commanders and conquerers instead of studying in college, and how finally he signed up with the Marines because they were the toughest. He wanted to go to Iraq, to see if he could do it.
Iraq turned out to be somewhat jolting, but the real baptism of blood was Afghanistan.
However, first came boot camp. In immensely readable, vivid prose, Martin describes his experiences as a recruit, and the harsh tactics employed there to make fighting Marines out of a bunch of young guys from a wide variety of backgrounds.
After boot camp came deployment, first Iraq, and then the grim killing fields of Afghanistan, which have been the site of war gamers for millennia--with never a winner. Martin doesn't pull punches about how much the Afghanis hated Americans, or how inevitable it was that the Taliban was there to stay, and would eventually remain after the Americans called it quits and went home, as had the British Empire a century ago, and Napoleon the century before that, and so on back to Alexander.
As I was reading, I reflected on the withdrawal of this summer. In some regard the Taliban is the "winner" except I have no doubt they'll soon be fighting each other, and of course against the descendants of the flint-eyed warlords who have held those barren mountains for thousands of years.
As I read, I also compared this memoir to those written by L.C. Dunsterville, who was the real-life model for Stalky in Rudyard Kipling's Stalky and Co. The fragmented alliances, the war lords, the earlier incarnation of the Taliban are all there in Dunsterville's ruefully funny, disarmingly frank, but ultimately uncritical empire-supporting reminiscences, written before World War One. Dunsterville elides in a gentlemanly, stiff-upper-lip manner past the brutality and the horror, otherwise the terrain is the same, the battles similar, only with more sophisticated weapons, the wins and losses as permanent as sand dunes.
Martin lets the reader see the horror. He makes us care about the comrades whose lives were lost back there, and the physical, mental, and spiritual cost to those who were able to return home. There is a certain amount of reflection, but at the very end, even though he's an ex-soldier, he still has the soldier mentality; if you want to try to understand what makes men put themselves through it, this is an excellent book to furnish a glimpse into that mindset.
I selected this book from NetGalley in hopes of getting a better picture of Benedict Arnold than was taught when I was a kid (he was basically Evil McI selected this book from NetGalley in hopes of getting a better picture of Benedict Arnold than was taught when I was a kid (he was basically Evil McEvilness) or the revisionary version I encountered in late years as reaction to all that flag-waving rah rah of the fifties, in which pretty much everyone, including Washington, was depicted as an opportunistic scumbag.
I wanted an even-handed account, so that I could understand his motivations for his shift in sides. Though I’ve learned from other books that changing sides (sometimes two or three or five times) during the Revolutionary War was not unheard of at all. But this was a very high profile case, and came at a time that especially hurt.
The main focus of the book is on three people, though the author takes plenty of time to flesh out other figures of the time and place—revolutionaries, British and Native Americans, commanders and commoners.
The three are Horatio Gates, the commander who turned a disparate bunch of farmers and artisans into an effective army; Philip Schuyler, who served as a sort of task force engineer in putting together vessels for the water battle, and of course Benedict Arnold, who proved to be a smart, courageous, if impatient and arrogant commander on both land and water.
The actual battle does not commence until halfway through the book, permitting the author to build a vivid, excellent picture of the situation, the emotions, the motivations, and of course the cost.
I not only got what I asked for—a basic understanding of what led Arnold from Point A to Point B (and its cost) but I got the benefit of a vivid, well-paced book that lays out clearly the strategy and tactics of the period, without sacrificing interest.
This is about the battle Athens. Not Greece, but Tennessee.
It's depressingly timely, as a bunch of crooked politicians do their damndest to control thThis is about the battle Athens. Not Greece, but Tennessee.
It's depressingly timely, as a bunch of crooked politicians do their damndest to control the local elections by various criminal means, including threat and violence against voters.
For a bunch of GIs returning from World War II, the war didn't stop, it just shifted to a different type of war, against the political machine controlling the local county. The young veterans, experienced in the war theater, formed their own party and introduced the GI ticket for the upcoming elections. Every person on the ballot was a veteran.
The residents of Athens hailed them with relief, but many with an equal or stronger fear that they couldn't win against a crook who was expert in lying, threatening, and manipulating to stay in power.
The vets witnessed firsthand the theft of ballot boxes, and the threats and intimidation carried out by the thugs working for the crooked politicians, culminating in a shootout at the local jail, where deputies on the payroll of the crooks hid with ballot boxes.
The showdown lasted for hours, but they won, clearing the way for free and honest elections in their county.
It's briskly told, and very well researched--the evidence of firsthand accounts is evident, adding to the color of the story.
The first half is mostly summary, both of the veterans' various experiences in the war (some of those could have made their own books) and an account of the rise of the political machine in Tennessee.
I would have liked more detail on the culminating battle at the jail, though the author seemed to be limited in actual fact, and kudos for not giving in to the temptation to plump things up by fictionalizing. Altogether an interesting account, and alas, so very timely.
This highly readable. absorbing memoir has already received a huge number of reviews, so I don't feel I need to summarize Tracy Walder's background, oThis highly readable. absorbing memoir has already received a huge number of reviews, so I don't feel I need to summarize Tracy Walder's background, or the general layout of the book.
It's a very intense look at her experiences overseas while a CIA Agent as part of the Poison Squad (her name--I have no idea if that is a real thing). There were some very grim descriptions (severed heads, anyone?) but what I found most disturbing was the hate-filled misogyny aimed at her, especially during her FBI training. From her perspective, she was already judged for being a woman, a Jew, and blonde. At the FBI she was ostracized for being part of the CIA.
Her motivation for writing this book seems to be aimed at women, young women especially, whose brains and talent and skills are so very needed to fix this world full of toxic masculinity. Which sums up Al-Qaeda and ISIS.
Otherwise she largely stays away from politics, outside of a few remarks here and there. Her focus was on her experiences as an agent of the CIA and then of the FBI, and the people she encountered within the service, and as targets.
It can be unnerving at time, and also moving, such as the incident after she fell down a stone stairway and lay in a military hospital bed at an undisclosed Middle Eastern hotspot. While she was there, a bombing happened elsewhere and a bunch of local women were badly wounded, suffering burns over most of their bodies.
As she lay in the hospital bed, she turned her head to meet the eyes of the woman next to her, whose face was badly burned. Walder describes how she stayed there, blending their gazes, their breathing even synchronized, a conscious effort after a nurse told her quietly that none of the women had made it--and they didn't have hope for this one either. But Walder wanted to give this woman as much human contact as she could until the end, and did.
The only negative observation I have to make is the long bits of redacted text marked with tons of ~~~~~. A substitute word such as thingy or McGuffin could have served just as well for the short bits, and as for the long paragraphs of ~~~~, they were unnecessary. It was sufficient to state at the outset that portions of her memoir were redacted for security reasons; this was not a report, or even a white paper, with footnotes noting every resource. The memoir was full of opinion, emotional reactions, and changed names, so the ~~~ seemed pointlessly intrusive.
But other than that I found it an absorbing read, and I hope that women like her are paving the way for a new generation of women.
The title is misleading, in that is implies a focus on a relationship that in truth was a small part of two quite remarkable lives.
Chaffin does a terrThe title is misleading, in that is implies a focus on a relationship that in truth was a small part of two quite remarkable lives.
Chaffin does a terrific job of sketching the lives of both men, and where they intersected--first early in the Revolution, when the young and eager La Fayette came to North America seeking glory, then when Jefferson went to France on the eve of its Revolution, and threw himself into the high life among the (doomed) aristocrats, and finally when La Fayette needed rescuing as his own country turned on this idealistic adventurer.
There are more detailed biographies of both out there (for fascinating detail and sheer readability, I recommend Claude Manceron's masterful multi-volume history of the period), but this one serves as an absorbing introduction to both men and their influence as the two countries experienced revolution.
And toward the end, we do get a look at the promised relationship!
Historian Tom Shachtman has furnished a rock-solid, impeccably researched investigation into a side of the Revolutionary War that tends to get scampedHistorian Tom Shachtman has furnished a rock-solid, impeccably researched investigation into a side of the Revolutionary War that tends to get scamped by both the patriotic rah rah bombasts and the Let’s Trash The Scum diatribes: just how a colony of thirteen very different entities managed to go to war against the most powerful empire in the western Europe.
There were definitely those who profited off war, as in every war, and they get their due, but there were also those who took a risk in uniting with people they didn’t necessarily agree with in order to fund what was actually a very long war, in the hope of winning independence for all.
The structure follows the lives and fortunes of twelve men, whose economic soldiering were crucial to the emerging finances of the baby republic. A lot of these names rarely show up except in footnotes of Revolutionary War histories: Henry Laurens; William Bingham, Jeremiah Wadsworth, and Stephen Girard; Elias Hasket Derby; and of course famous figures such as Alexander Hamilton, Robert Morris, and John Hancock, as well as Hamilton’s successors at the Treasury, Oliver Wolcott, Jr. and Albert Gallatin.
This is not an easy read, as each page is packed with information, but it’s an involving one. As I read about these financial privateers and pirates (in a couple cases, literally!) I couldn’t help but see some parallels to today. Only I don’t see any of these modern pirates doing anything for anyone but their own greed.
Anyway, a thoroughly worthwhile book for anyone interested in Revolutionary War history—and even if you think you aren’t.
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