Review: In the Garden of Beasts, by Erik Larson

In the Garden of Beasts, by history writer Erik Larson, came out just a few weeks ago. It may be the most recent book I ever review. I rushed to grab it in part because of a Border's coupon, but also because I absolutely loved Larson's Devil in the White City. In Devil, Larson uses succinct but eloquent writing to tell the story of Chicago's World's Fair from the perspectives of the fair's architect, Daniel Burnham, and, conversely, the fair's serial murderer, H. H. Holmes. Devil read almost like a novel, flowing neatly even as it jumped between the two perspectives, and at the end not only had I enjoyed it, but I was newly acquainted with Chicago, the fair, and with these two men, as well as others. I highly recommend Devil to those who enjoy history and historical writing.

In the Garden was a disappointment to me. Here Larson is focusing on Berlin during the rise of Nazi power, mainly from '33-'37. As in Devil he aims to paint a picture of Berlin through the eyes and actions of two individuals, namely William Dodd, ambassador to Germany during these years, and his daughter, Martha. The story does not flow as well as in Devil but feels choppy. Much of the book is actually about Martha, perhaps because so many of her letters and diaries are available, as she flits from love affair to love affair and political ideology to political ideology. She is shown as promiscuous and silly for most of the book, so I was surprised when Larson described her as "not precisely a hero but certainly a woman of principle", in his closing pages. In that case the history told here seems to be more about women's lib and sexual freedom in the personage of Martha, although she is a weak heroine even for these causes. Other than that, the tidbits and tales about Nazi Germany are of course not new, but it was interesting to see them through the diaries and writings of people there at the time.

Book 20 on my way to 52.

Review: Shogun, by James Clavell

An historical fiction of epic proportions, James Clavell's Shogun brings true honor to that often over-assigned literary genre. And clearly I'm a big fan. Set in Japan in the year 1600 this is not only the story of an English sailor trapped in foreign lands, a story inspired by real-life naval pilot William Adams, but is even more importantly a story about clashing cultures and beliefs. The setting is expertly drawn, as are the characters and the political and religious situations of the day. Plenty of suspense, violence, and intrigue offset the to-be-suspected softer tale of a hero coming around to retract his initial hasty judgement of an unknown people, the time honored theme of man against self. And there's an even softer tale thrown in, a romance that, if it seems somewhat forced and unrealistic at times, is to be forgiven because of its symbolic value in the greater scheme of the novel. I enjoyed every page of this book, and can only hope that the second in the series is as good.

Book 19 on my way to 52.

Review: Delta of Venus, by Anaïs Nin

When I added this book to my list of must-reads I imagined it would be something like D. H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover, a work I greatly enjoyed. But while Lawrence's Chatterley is a striking modernist novel about class systems, gender disparity, and sexuality with many well written and daring erotic scenes, Nin's Delta of Venus is its opposite. This is a book filled with daring erotic scenes, with many well written stories about class, gender disparity, and sexuality thrown in. Delta of Venus is actually a collection of short works written by Nin for a collector of erotica. Her instructions were to eliminate poetic writing in favor of heavily descriptive sex scenes, but Nin melds description and story telling artfully. Her writing, her tendency to delve further and further into the relationships and personal emotions of her characters, reminds me Lawrence's handling of prose, while her characters' sexual abandon reminds me of Martin Amis's more recent novel, The Pregnant Widow, about the feminist and sexual revolution of the 1970s (which also harks heavily back to Lawrence). This book probably isn't for everyone—there is sex on every page—but Nin is credited with giving literature a language for sex and sensuality, and I think for giving women a place in that language as well. She continued what Lawrence started, and what society in general continued a few decades later.

Book 18 on my way to 52

Review: The Monk in the Garden, by Robin Marantz Henig

The best thing I can say about this book is that I found it disappointing. Though put forward as a biography, in some places, like the extensive paragraphs on Mendel's (non)relationship with Darwin, it reads more like historical fiction. Many times, after reading page upon page of anecdotes, we are told that it couldn't have happened that way after all (but imagine if it had!) and I found myself wishing for the last 10, 30, even 60 minutes of my time back. Even after finishing the book I find it difficult to decide whether Henig admires Mendel or disdains him, which isn't altogether hard to understand since some of the scientific community is divided on this as well, but I kind of wonder why she titled the book so exclusively around Mendel when she spent so much of it either referring to him in the diminutive or talking about other great names from science altogether. In fact, the parts I valued most from this book were the tales about those other scientists, many of whom I knew less about than Mendel. I read this book for my library non-fiction book club (which meets next Tuesday) and I am interested to hear what others have to say about it, so maybe I'll come back and update then.

Book 17 on my way to 52

Review: Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley

Brave New World is Aldous Huxley's deeply satirical answer to the Orwellian future Utopia. Huxley's is a world of drug induced contentment, genetic predetermination, and ingrained consumerism, all sold with a smiling face, and for the drugged population it's an easy sell. The ruling faction is aiming for stability, and beyond that they care not. The "if we could just keep people from moving, from researching, from developing" is a common theme is Ayn Rand's controversial hit Atlas Shrugged, and Brave New World is a manifestation of a future in which things have been stopped and are being controlled by those in power. Individuals are not allowed to thrive in this environment, but are shipped off to island isolated locations so that they cannot affect the surrounding society, or are driven to suicide.

This is a great futuristic sci-fi read, with a well-developed plot and characters and special treatment for the religion/science/consumerism discussion. Keep in mind the publish date of 1932, which makes the reverence of Ford and the prevalence of birth control even more meaningful. And what stood out to me was the flavor of nihilism throughout. And I really liked this book.

16 down on my way to 52.

Review: A Man Without a Country, By Kurt Vonnegut

I enjoy reading Kurt Vonnegut, and if I had it to do over I would read this, his final book, only after I had read all the rest (which I have yet to do). The man has a talent for interesting humor into the most horrific of things, a talent he accounts for early on in this memoir of sorts, but this book ultimately reads like the final disgruntled rant of a disillusioned old man. Which, incidentally, it is, and he openly acknowledges it as such. It is Kurt Vonnegut, and that was the point of most of his work, but the difference here is the saturation of bitterness because it isn't embedded in a well written story.

Reading this there were many moments when I found myself laughing outright, others when I was nodding my head vigorously in agreement, and still others when I succumbed to frustration with the constant negativity. He repeats ideas, even phrases, throughout the book and there were times when I wanted to say enough already. It comes across as just bitterness, and that's a wasted emotion in my book. But every time I was about to set the book aside intending to never pick it up again, he would renew my interest with another fabulous observation or statement that got me hooked back in.

For many, especially the true fans, the people who grew up on Vonnegut's acerbic wit, this will be an enjoyable must read. And people who are one-hundred percent in line with his political views will enjoy it even more. I fall into neither of those categories, but I would still give it a three out of five.

15 down on my way to 52 in 2011