my october reads
Here are some reviews for my month of reading from October:
Five Days at Memorial by Sherri Fink
Fantastic. A harrowing discussion of devastating circumstances and decisions at a hospital in New Orleans during the Katrina disaster. Fink turns this real-life event into a dramatic page turner, without resorting to sensationalism or heavy-handed moralizing. The day-by-day account of how this hospital devolved from a medical care facility during the storm was riveting. And then the second half of the book, which delves into the aftermath of the doctors’ and nurses’ decisions and the public reaction thereto, was thought-provoking, aggravating, disheartening, and worrying all at the same time. I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in disaster planning, medical ethics, or human nature generally. In other words, everyone should read this.
Eisenhower: The White House Years by Jim Newton
It was refreshing to read this no-frills historical account of the rise and presidency of Dwight Eisenhower. So often I find that biographies like to dip too frequently into gossip or intrigue, or, alternatively, spend inordinate amounts of time heaping praise on the subject. By contrast, Newton’s biography was exactly what I wanted: a factual account of the foreign and domestic challenges that faced America in the 1950s and the strategies that Eisenhower adopted to respond to them. While it’s clear that Newton has a very strong, very favorable opinion of Eisenhower, he kept his commentary on Eisenhower’s greatness to a few paragraphs at the end of discussions of major landmarks which was just enough to humanize the story without detracting from it as a solid factual account. All in all, not earth-shattering, but very good at what it is.
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
As a non-religious person, I was nervous that this novel (an original narrative based on characters from the Bible) wouldn’t hold my interest or that I would be lost because I don’t know the Bible well enough. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Religious knowledge is not necessary to enjoy this book, and I definitely did enjoy it. The beginning is a bit slow at times, but it really picks up pace and ferocity in the middle. The writing and imagery are beautiful, and the story itself is powerful and emotional. I’m glad I finally got around to reading this after it sat on my shelf mocking me for over a year.
Enemies: A History of the FBI by Tim Weiner
While the history of the FBI is certainly interesting and has many twists and intrigues that should make for an excellent page-turner, I think that trying to tackle the whole thing in one book was a mistake. There were too many names, too many double agents, too many stories to keep straight. And that surplus of material led to some questionable choices in focus. Certain events or chases were dealt with in excruciating detail, while others of seemingly similar or even greater importance were glossed over. With so much ground to cover, the author curiously spent a significant amount of time repeatedly making broad statements about J. Edgar Hoover’s views on communism — a point which is certainly important to the history of the FBI but probably didn’t need to be repeated so often in a book of such scope and length. In the end, this was a serious drag to get through and I wouldn’t do it again.
The Deptford Trilogy by Robertson Davies
I slightly regret reading all three of these books at once. It made for an unreasonably long undertaking, and I found myself frustrated and antsy by the end of World of Wonders, instead of enjoying the wonderful writing. The dialogue is delightful throughout the trilogy, and the unique approach to narration in each book (a letter in Fifth Business, notes on psychiatric sessions in The Manticore, and prolonged monologue in World of Wonders) made for a lively and interesting change of pace with each new point of view. Although I found World of Wonders to be slightly pedantic and Eisengrim grated on me more than a little, the carnival tales were evocative and captivating. Maybe taking a break between each novel by reading another book would make this trilogy even more appealing.
Cake: A Slice of History by Alysa Levene
Caution: do not read if you are hungry. This whole book talks about nothing but cake and food, describing in detail different cakes from around the world, their ingredients, and their baking processes in mouth-watering detail. It’s a tour-de-force in culinary history research, and made me really want to know more about the evolution of the different types of food I consume on a daily basis. My complaint with this book, though, is that it has so much detail on so many different cakes that it’s hard to keep anything straight in your head. The different cakes she mentions are difficult to distinguish en masse, and I walked away feeling that I’d forgotten all the interesting details that made the book worthwhile in the first place. Nevertheless, definitely worth the read for the impressive research on display. Be aware, though, that it will for sure inspire you to go bake a cake. Or two or three.
The Beatles by Bob Spitz
Close to 900 pages on the Beatles, and I don’t regret it at all. This book is a fascinating, insanely detailed account of the Beatles and Beatlemania. It offers a biography of each individual Beatle (althouth most focus is given to John, then Paul, and then George and Ringo tied for a very distant third place). In fact, the book almost reads like a history of the Beatles as they relate to John Lennon. That being said, the book is (thankfully) not an ode to John Lennon. If anything, I would say the book is slightly critical of John (which I found refreshing and realistic). This book teaches you so much about the Beatles and incipient rock and roll culture in England in the 1950s and early 1960s. It really doesn’t veer far from its four protagonists, but still manages to stay lively, engaging, and interesting even at such length. If you’re a Beatles fan at all, this book is worth the time and effort.
