Hooking Up

Hooking Up by Tom Wolfe

This book was released in the year 2000 and was subtitled as “a book for the turn of the millennium” or something.  I really had no idea what this book was about before I picked it up. I only knew that a) I enjoy Tom Wolfe and b) It was only a $1 at the discount book store.  After reading it, I still don’t have much of an idea of what this book was about.  It’s not that it was hard to understand, Wolfe is an amazing writer, it’s just that the pieces are very disjointed, and I can honestly and sincerely say, I’m really not sure how this whole thing is supposed to be tied together.

For starters, this is mostly non-fiction pieces written by Wolfe supposedly about the reflections of our society in the year 2000.  There is one fiction story thrown in designed (I guess) to compliment the rest of the book.  Most of Wolfe’s observations of Year 2000 America are quite humorous – yet in a very unflattering way.  His observations are mainly on the entertainment industry – specifically in the genre of writing, which he knows so much.

The first piece, which I thought was more of an introduction, he talks about the common practice amongst contemporary youth to “hook up” with one another.  “Hooking Up” is apparently the tendency to have sex with another individual within mere minutes of being introduced to the person.  It’s a pretty crass observation, yet I don’t doubt the validity of his claim in some circles.  Since this was the first installment in this book (that features the same title), I figured he would expand on this thought process throughout the remainder of the book.  Not so.  As a matter of fact, after this brief short “story”, there is no mention at all of “hooking up” anywhere else, yet I kept expecting there to be something, or at least to draw some sort of viable connection with the rest of the book.  Nope.  Nothing of the sort (to be fair, he did write an entire novel about the phenomenon called I Am Charlotte Simmons).

So he wonders from topic to topic throughout the rest of the book.  He laughs, so to speak, at current sociological and philosophical trends that have engulfed the “educated” minds within the last century.  He seems to suggest (and I don’t disagree) that there is a bizarre element in our society that thrives on belittling anything deemed “popular” or “good”.  These individuals on the fringe go to great lengths to fault anything that the masses enjoy, seem to thrive on  being miserable, and have quite the sense of intellectual snobbery when deeming the rest of the world “unsophisticated” or “out of touch”.  He tells two wonderful stories of when he was the victim of such angst.  One, detailing the comings and goings of the famous New Yorker magazine (famous only because the “intellect snobs” enjoy displaying it on their $2,000 coffee table), and the other story, which describes the reaction to his book A Man in Full by some of the more well known, “famous” authors of the yesteryear.  These authors (Norman Mailer, John Updike, and John Irving) seemed to come out of nowhere to slam Wolfe’s new book.  A bit odd since it was critically and publicly seen as a masterpiece.  Wolfe goes onto to point out that these three “brilliant” authors, were basically just pissed off because no one was buying their books anymore.  He makes some good points.

In between all of this, he manages to throw in one short, fictional story about a popular tabloid news show that is about to break a story about three military homophobic creeps that manage to kill a fellow soldier because of his sexual orientation.  The story is good, in places, yet Wolfe has an annoying tendency to write his character’s dialog in how the person sounds to an average person.  So since these three military guys are from the Deep South, Wolfe insists on writing their dialogue in an annoying vernacular such as:

“Hale, no.  Ain’t nobody jes natch’ly wants to risk his laf.  You know what I’m trying to tale you?  You got to take ‘ose ol’ boys and ton ’em into a unit.”

One wishes Wolfe would just spell out the words properly and let his readers use their own imagination.  It gets so bad that you find yourself reading these bits several times before you know what the characters are saying.  That’s really too much work to read a story.

So in conclusion, I did enjoy everything in this book.  Wolfe has an amazing way of making me laugh, and this piece of work is no different.  I was just left with a feeling of not really knowing where he was trying to go, and found myself scratching my head a bit after I finished reading.

The Last Lion Winston Spencer Churchill: Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965

The Last Lion Winston Spencer Churchill: Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965 by William Manchester and Paul Reid

It is with great relief that I have finally finished this book along with its two predecessors.  The three “Last Lion” volumes of Churchill’s life took up more than 3,000 pages.  It was a lot of reading.  An awful lot of reading.  And I’m glad to have finally finished.  Don’t misunderstand me, this was a great book (as were the other two).  It was  just…..long.

The author, William Manchester, actually passed away of a stroke before he could finish compiling his notes for this final narrative, so author Paul Reid was brought in to mainly smooth the edges to make a coherent piece of work.  There are naysayers that found this less than completely satisfactory, but to be honest, I can’t tell any difference in the two author’s styles.  Also, it’s worth mentioning that Manchester knew he was too ill to continue and complete the trilogy, and Paul Reid was personally chosen by Manchester to bring the story of England’s most famous Prime Minister to a conclusion.

This book picks up right where volume 2 left off, and had we not known the history of Britain during World War II, we could easily describe the ending of volume 2 as a “cliffhanger”.  Churchill is elected Prime Minister during England’s darkest days, 1940, just as things were starting to get ugly, as they were essentially a country grossly unprepared for a major war.  Fortunately, there’s a lot of water surrounding England, and even more fortunate is that Germany doesn’t have that great of a navy – at least when compared to its air force and army.

So the only way Hitler and his goons can try to break the spirit of the British people is by bombing raids, which have now become a bit of legend.  The morale of the countrymen is upbeat, however, and to be completely honest, it’s a bit hard to see why.  It seems as though every page of the first half of this book details more and more tragedy, more battles lost, more ships sunk, more lives lost.  There never seems to be any hint that England will survive.  Yet Churchill is strong in his resolve, and manages to steer his people ahead with fiery speeches and unbridled optimism, even if all he has to offer is blood, toil, tears, and sweat.

Churchill is definitely one smart cookie.  Sure, the book goes into a lot of detail about his eating habits, his drinking habits, and his smoking habits (It seems he had a weakness for the evils of all three), yet this man is as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar.  As bad as things get, Winston Churchill is always looking ahead, and always keeping the interest of the vast British Empire in mind – which is actually still all over the globe when the war begins - when planning future conflicts.

Early on in the war, he’s smart enough to know England can’t win without Roosevelt and the Americans, yet the U.S. of A wants absolutely nothing to do with a war on another continent.    Still, Churchill begs and begs an inflexible Roosevelt, who really is at the mercy of his constituents.  He finally at least succeeds when the U.S. congress passes the Lend-Lease act, meaning, essentially that England can “lease” weapons from America.  Then, of course, Pearl Harbor happened.  You almost sense that Churchill was glad.  Of course, most of the USA is concentrated on fighting Japan, which really doesn’t help the European conflict much.

It seems like, out of nowhere, that the tide turns for the allies around 1943.  It’s a bit hard to pinpoint exactly how, since Germany seemed to not be able to do any wrong prior to then.  There are a lot of small things that added up:  The breaking of the German Enigma coding machine, the Germans thinking they could easily beat Russia in the sub-zero temperatures of the Eastern Front, the Italians (not good fighters), the use of Radar (England had discovered it, Germany had not), and the fact that as smart as Adolph Hitler was, he was still a crazed lunatic who wouldn’t listen to his advisors.

Around 1943, Churchill along with Franklin Roosevelt and Joseph Stalin, start planning for the post-war Europe.  This will not be an easy task.  Stalin is equally as vile as Hitler, so negotiating with him is never a walk in the park, and Roosevelt as well seems to have his own agenda.  It’s almost as if Roosevelt and Stalin realize that the end of this war will essentially kill the British “Empire”, leaving the USA and Russia as the two superpowers, so why even bother much with Churchill?  Still, Churchill plods ahead as best he can.

This books has more.  Oh, so much more.  In addition to meticulous details of most of the major battles, there’s also Northern Africa, Southern Italy, the Vichy French, Burma, Shanghai, what to do with Poland, and many many members of the British Parliament.  Most in his home country regard Churchill as a hero, but when things are slow to recover after the war’s end, Winston is voted out and replaced by Clement Attlee whom Churchill describes as “A Sheep in Sheep’s Clothing”.  So problems still persist after the war, and Churchill gets absolutely no rest, and has the Prime Minister job again in 1951 (when he was 77 years old!)

About eighty percent of this book focuses on 1940-1945.  By the time the war ends, up until Churchill’s death in 1965, the author devotes a lot less reading space describing events post World War II.  One could almost argue that a volume 4 could have been written (no!  please!  no!)  

This book is the real thing.  There’s no need to read anything about Winston Churchill other than these three magnificent, yet lengthy volumes.  This man was a true hero, and I’m glad he lived a long life – despite being on the verge of death from all the wine, fancy food, and persistent cigars.  It’s sad to think of what history could have been had this man not been alive.

T is for Tresspass

T is for Trespass by Sue Grafton

If you’ve ever moved to a new neighborhood in a new town, especially when you were a kid, you probably felt a bit lost and uncomfortable in your new surroundings.  You would look around and see well established cliques of friends, and you would feel somewhat alone and aloof - wishing you could probably move back to where you came from where everything was familiar.  Fortunately, around a year or two later, you would gradually assimilate into your new surroundings, and all of the things and people that were somewhat foreign, now probably felt very comfortable.

I use this analogy because this is what it kind of feels like reading a Sue Grafton novel.  If you’ve never read one before, it probably seems a bit awkward getting to learn all of the recurring characters that appear in just about everyone of her books.  Yet with a little patience and persistence, you soon find yourself feeling as though all of these folks are your neighbors in this virtual story telling world.  I can see where it would be easy to not “get” one of these books.  To be honest, there’s not much excitement here in terms of what a normal best seller usually brings to the table.  I would advise a new reader to give these books, and their characters a bit of time.  Author Sue Grafton makes it well worth the time and patience.

In this novel, the year is (now) 1988 and Private Investigator Kinsey Milhone is going about her normal, day-to-day life doing what, I guess, private investigators do.  Sue Grafton has the wonderful ability to make the monotonous and mundane quite enjoyable.  I never get bored reading about Kinsey and her somewhat plain goings on.  In this story, there are actually a few different plots going on (as there always seem to be in anyone’s real life), yet the main story revolves around a stranger that is hired to be a caretaker for a feeble elderly neighbor who is a bit of a grouch.  Solana Rojas arrives, as the old geezer (name: Gus) doesn’t really have any family.  There’s something about this woman that gives Kinsey the creeps.  So, Kinsey does a lot of digging, and uncovers a lot of mysterious secrets about this strange woman, and what Kinsey finds isn’t good.  Solana is one smart cookie, however, and these two end up in a battle of wits to take control of the old man.

Like her last novel, Grafton is experimenting with telling a portion of this story in third person.  Normally, the entire book is told through the eyes of Kinsey, yet there are a few diversions when the reader is allowed to look outside the normal window of Kinsey’s eyes, and  the author uses these diversions to pry into the conniving life of Solana Rojas, and what her motives really are.  As I stated when I reviewed her last novel, this approach is refreshing, and one hopes that Sue Grafton continue in this vein.  

As in most of these stories (they’re dubbed “The Alphabet Mysteries”), nothing too gruesome nor earth shattering happens, yet it’s an overall pleasant tale.  Maybe I’m getting used to it, by Grafton has also seemed to tone down her overly descriptive nature every time we’re introduced to a new person, place, or thing.  Kinsey Milhone really is a great “friend” to keep going back to time and time again.

Wait Till Next Year

Wait Till Next Year by Doris Kearns Goodwin

I suspect more people have probably seen Doris Kearns Goodwin on television then have read her books.  Usually, whenever a story on any major news network is focusing on an important figure of our nation’s history - usually a president, it’s not uncommon for Ms. Goodwin to be one of the panelists.  Like her writing, her observations are always very detailed, yet warm and honest.  I was surprised when she was actually one of the key figures in the Ken Burns documentary “Baseball” back in the early 1990s.  You would expect to see people reminiscing about the game such as Pedro Martinez and Bob Costas, but Doris Kearns Goodwin?  What in the heck is a presidential historian doing on a Baseball show?

Well, let’s just say the producers were wise in their choice.  Goodwin was mainly used when reminiscing about the Brooklyn Dodgers of the 1940s and 50s.  There is so much history involved surrounding that franchise at the particular time, and Goodwin was right there, growing up in Brooklyn, a huge fan of the team and the game, and like her recollections of great historical figures, she manages to wonderfully capture the essence of those glorious, yet frustrating years of being a fan of the “dem bums”.

It was after this experience with Ken Burns’ documentary that made Goodwin sit down and actually write this remembrance.   This isn’t necessarily a “baseball” book, although the sport is definitely the lead actor in this particular play.  Rather, this is just a recollection of a young girl being raised in post war Brooklyn, and what life was like during this particular time in history in one of New York’s more noted boroughs.

You could make the argument that there really isn’t that much here that is new or revealing.  This is simply a story about a young girl, and her childhood memories.  It’s easy to, at this point, not be interested in pursuing such a volume, and truth be told, this book isn’t really a “must” by any means.  Yet Doris Kearns Goodwin is, well, a brilliant story teller, so if you, or anyone you know, grew up in a similar time and a similar circumstance, this is probably as good of a book that you will find about a simple time when everyone knew the name of the town barber, all the men took the train to work into the city (women stayed home and raised families), and young fans of baseball would rush home from school to turn on the radio and listen intensely to their favorite team try, yet again, to make it to the World Series and maybe, just maybe, bring home a world championship.

There’s a lot of other things in these pages other than baseball.  Some good - close communities, the invention of television, and family trips to Jones Beach, and some not so good - racial tensions, McCarthyism, and Sputnik, just to name a few.  Yet her childhood is largely a happy one, and baseball is never pushed back in the story too far.  This was a simpler day when, especially in the streets of Brooklyn, it wasn’t that difficult to meet one of your major league heroes at an autograph signing, and come away with a cherished memory.

I can’t imagine that such a book like this would necessarily light up any bestseller list, but I’m sure that was never the point.  Like many great writers, Goodwin simply decided to take a pleasant detour and write about something near and dear to her heart, and she succeeds mightily in that aspect.  

The Devil's Teardrop

The Devil’s Teardrop by Jeffery Deaver

If you’ve read a lot of Jeffery Deaver, well, this one is pretty much par for the course.  There’s a killer on the loose in Washington D.C. on the last day of the millennium.  Actually, there are a couple of killers - the one with the actual semi-automatic gun doing the damage is actually doing the bidding of his “master”.  The button man has specific orders to perform a massive act of killing in a predetermined place every four hours starting at noon on this New Years Eve day, and ending at midnight - unless a ransom is met.  Problem is, after the first killing at noon, the “leader” is killed in a traffic accident, and a massive hunt is on to find the number 2 guy, and the good guys don’t have a lot of information.  He has to be found before the next scheduled massacre, so a crack team is formed and the hunt begins.

So you see?  Typical Deaver.  Although contrary to what some have thought, this is not a Lincoln Rhyme novel - although the quadriplegic does make a cameo appearance.  My guess is that Deaver started this as a Lincoln Rhyme novel, but for whatever reason, decided to go in a slightly different direction.  It certainly could be a Rhyme novel - there’s essentially one piece of evidence - the original handwritten ransom note.  So for about 1/3 of the book, we get to read the note over and over again, looking for patterns in writing style, grammar use, and all sorts of things that only a handwriting expert would know.  So, obviously, just such an expert is brought in to the story very quickly.

That’s not to say he’s brought in easily.  Parker Kincaid is a retired FBI agent.  “Retired” in this case doesn’t mean “old”.  He’s still quite young - he just left the force the same reason why everyone leaves the force in books like these.  He’s divorced with two young kids in his custody.  Apparently, the ex-wife is a bit of a plastic materialist who does’t even like the kids - yet she’s now suing for custody.  Apparently she’s doing so just to tick her ex off, and also it makes us fell sorry for our protagonist.  So throughout the story, we’re reminded time and time (and time) again about Parker’s situation.  He really doesn’t want to do this job.  He’s retired.  If anyone “catches” him doing such a thing, well, a nasty divorce attorney just might have a case to take his beloved children away from him.

So the hunt is on.  Leads are followed up on, characters are introduced that seem inconsequential (although we know better), accidents happen, innocent people get killed, false leads are followed up on, yet our heroes continue to make progress as we know they somehow always will.

As you’re reading this, you probably sense a hint of sarcasm within these words.  I have to honestly say it’s not because I didn’t enjoy the book - I really did, it just seems as though the pattern with Deaver is becoming a bit too familiar.  I can’t really fault the author, though.  As I write this, I think I’ve read 7 or 8 of his books within the last year (I hadn’t read anything by him prior), so it’s more of an issue with me than him.  I’ve even found his trademark “spectacular bizarre ending twist” to be a bit of a yawner.  Again, there’s nothing at all really wrong with it, I just now expect the be shaken and stirred violently during the last 50 or so pages, so I’ve just somehow now taken it for granted that the roller coaster ride will only rapidly accelerate near the end.

You may feel the same way I do if you read many of this author’s works in a short time frame, so maybe a nice break in between the books is necessary.  Still, though, great job, and as always, it’s nice to see a writer do so much homework and research to get the labyrinth of facts straight.

High Time to Kill

High Time to Kill by Raymond Benson

After finishing my third of the six James Bond novels by Raymond Benson, I have to say that I’m sad that there won’t be more than six.  I have thoroughly enjoyed each one of these books - they’re definitely better than the John Gardner ones, and I would venture on the edge of blasphemy and say they’re even better than the original Ian Fleming stories.  Benson knows how to tell a crisp, clear story without being too technical, yet at the same time giving the reader a sense of thrill and adventure.

These books are essentially nothing like the movies.  The movies show James Bond as a suave sophisticated bon vivant, that never seems to break a sweat - even if he’s sledding down a snow covered mountain in a cello case.  The literary Bond is much more realistic - after he fights off some thugs, this Bond actually has to go to the hospital for cracked ribs and a bruised kidney.  I doubt any lover of the movies would be disappointed, however, at least with Benson’s bond.  Plus, there are still the familiar characters - Moneypenny, M (now a woman, just like the movies), Q, and Tanner.  Had Benson created his own unique character other than James Bond along with a strong supporting cast, it still would have worked.  The books are simply that good.

The one thing that is similar between the two Bond mediums is sex.  Sex, sex, sex.  It can be a bit much sometime.  When Bond is getting ready to go on a mountaineering rescue mission about halfway through this story, the author quickly describes the team for us and casually tells us that the team consists of “…one female”.  So you already know what’s going to happen.  Then, when the noted female (she’s a ravenous blonde doctor) exposes her breasts towards Bond at one point (in the frigid  below zero temperature) and later confesses to him that she became to doctor to “overcome her addiction to sex”, well, it’s a bit much, and you tend to roll your eyes.

Still, though, it’s an exciting ride.  Without going into the plot, the majority of this story takes places on a rescue mission to the top of the “third largest mountain in the world” (I forget its name).  So, there’s a lot of intense mountain climbing, bad guys that are really good, good guys that are really bad, a lot of mysterious shootings, not enough oxygen, and let’s not forget the oversexed doctor.

Benson has stated that this book was his favorite.  I don’t know if I would rank it as my favorite of the three that I have read so far, but like his other two, he gets an “A” from me.  Nice work 007.