Category: historical fiction

Last House by Jessica Shattuck (Literary Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Plot: 5/5 Characters: 5/5

This is a brilliant epic of a book. It spans a period of 90 years (~1950 to 2040) via the trajectories of a single family — each member ensconced in his or her own cultural context while engaging with the others who are firmly planted in their own contemporaneous but often dissonant contexts. The story begins with Nick and Bet Taylor — he a junior lawyer attached to an American oil team negotiating deals in the Middle East and she a WWII cryptographer who gave up her dreams of a PhD to become a wife and mother (as women did in the 50s). From this stability and cultural conformity came two children — Katherine and Harry — who grow up in a clash between the middle class values of their parents and the anger and rhetoric of the 60s, complete with Marxist hyperbole and anger-fueled violence in the name of peace and justice. Decades later, by the time the third generation comes of age, their social cohort is beset by the overwhelming angst from the imminent collapse of society from climate change, war, and shifting values.

What impresses me about this book is how well Shattuck captures the feelings of the time(s) from so many different perspectives. Anger, fear, bewilderment, passion. Sometimes it was hard to read because she captured it so well; other times it was chilling to read because the activism of the 60s (the good, the bad, and the ugly) is blatantly mirrored in what is happening today. She must have finished writing this book before the Israel / Hamas war began and yet she captured the mix of intentions, propaganda and stupidity of the current situation perfectly.

I loved that the multiple viewpoints were captured via highly reflective characters — their feelings of joy, frustration, rage, and angst appearing in response to a rapidly shifting cultural landscape. I love that they pondered, each in his or her own way, the responsibilities that are incurred simply by being alive. The pages are full of insight with regard to parenting, political attitudes, alliances, friendship, and familial support.

I was (pleasantly) surprised by the lack of cliche and manipulation in the narrative. If the author has a strong opinion on climate change, greed, politics, democracy, or activism, I couldn’t tell you what it was. She covered several competing thoughts on how a person chooses to live in the world as it is. One of my favorite parts (towards the end) was a 2-3 page summary of an optimistic and pessimistic view of the same world. Perfectly crystalized (IMHO) into personal attitudes and interpretations. This book could have been depressing but came off to me as more wistful — the wistfulness that always accompanies the passage of time, regardless of how sweet that passing is.

Some good quotes:

“That’s what civilization is,” Brent said. “Living with people outside your tribe. All those rules and norms and structures that allow you to coexist. Right? Without those, we’re just – cave dwellers, protecting our own turf. You escape civilization, you escape back into your tribe. “

“The Weather Underground had gone off the deep end. They had aligned themselves with history’s most violent killers, people who thought the righteousness of their cause gave them the right to make decisions about life and death: Hitler, Stalin, Charles Manson. In the name of justice, how could you choose that?”

“Still, Katherine‘s knee jerk cynicism, annoyed him. She had never even been to the Middle East. She knew nothing about Iran. She knew nothing about the oil industry or the complicated politics of resource distribution. She had never even taken an economics class. She did not grasp that she was on the top floor of a great complicated structure with her lofty ideals while he was in the basement, stoking the boiler, making sure she would not freeze to death. Her generation took so much for granted! All the peace and plenty they had grown up with wasn’t given — it was protected by a sheath of young men’s bones strewn across Europe and the Pacific“

“How will it work when everyone is exactly equal?” my mother wanted to know. “Is there enough, really, to go around?” I was appalled by this sentiment, so chauvinist, racist, survivalist. I railed at her about the capitalist racket, the smallness of her Depression-era mindset (“But I don’t have a mindset,” she protested. “I have questions”). She was a good sport about it, really, mild-mannered in the face of my patronizing. But she persisted: Wouldn’t there always be some way people sorted themselves? If it wasn’t race or gender or class, would it be intelligence? Physical strength? Blood type? Weren’t there always bound to be haves and have-nots on account of finite resources? The constraints of weather and geography, for instance? Who got the high ground with fertile soil versus who got the desert?”

“My father wanted calm and safety, not emotion. Everything in their life was set. That was her generation, I guess. Their households clean, tidy, and immobile, built to last. So, too, was their concept of the relationships of the people who populated it: mother, daughter, neighbor, housecleaner — these were static entities. I can see now that for my father, this was vital, the best protection he knew against all that was ugly, tangled, and difficult. My mother, though, longed for something different. She was forty-seven years old, and she’d been living the same life since she was twenty-three.”

“Conflict avoidance is a luxury of the bourgeoisie,” I said as if this were a well-known quote. Maybe it was. My head was awash in edict and directives and liberal platitudes.

“The idea disturbed him. They were raising a daughter who felt free to be unpleasant when she was unhappy? He would have been caned by his father if he’d ever been ‘unpleasant.’ ”

Thank you to William Morrow and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 14th, 2024.

Lucky by Jane Smiley (Literary Fiction — Audio Book)

Ostensibly the story of a Jodie Rattler — from childhood until her 80s — who achieved moderate fame as a folk/rock singer/composer and, due to some clever investing of the money she had, was able to live her life and create her music without having to make herself a slave of the music industry. I never get the impression that she has any particular plans or goals. Instead she does what she wants to at the time, gathering (and enjoying) experiences that she often embeds into her music. This takes us from her birthplace in St. Louis to England, to recording studios, to tropical beaches, to New York City, and often back home to St. Louis. It takes us through her 25 lovers and their stories. The book is highly reflective with Jodie clearly describing her experiences, her feelings at the time and upon later reflection, and her thoughtful musings on life as a result. It’s really a personal voyage of self-discovery and ongoing development but without the cataclysmic events that often send people into these states. While it sometimes felt a bit slow moving (especially as the audio book reader spoke at a measured pace) I found myself consistently interested. By the end I felt like I knew what it was like to be Jodie. At the same time, I didn’t resonate with her — we are very different kinds of people — which made it even more interesting to be her for the duration.

There is a theme throughout the book where she reflects on how lucky she is every step of the way — chance meetings, being seen by a promoter etc. Hence the title. There is a lot of interesting detail on how she writes her songs, where her ideas come from, how she develops them, and what kind of experimentation she does to get a particular sound — all of which was completely accessible to me as a non-musician. Because the book spans about 80 years (from 1955 – 2030), we also get to watch (through her eyes) the evolution of the music industry, the political scene, and the planet. The worries about climate change and political instability float about the book, settling into something more solid by the end of the book as Jodi ages.

Now — I very much enjoyed listening to this book and thought the end was reasonable. But. I hated the epilog and I would honestly suggest you just don’t read it. It’s short and has a very interesting twist to it (and a tie in to the name of the book), but it has a complete downer of a future prediction that honestly has nothing at all to do with the story and just left me in the worst mood for no good reason! I don’t want to include a spoiler so I’ll say no more except that I really found it both emotionally draining and literarily gratuitous.

The Briar Club by Kate Quinn (Historical Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 5/5

Thanksgiving 1954. Washington, DC. A women’s boarding house. A body. And blood — lots of blood. That’s how Kate Quinn’s latest book gets started. And yes, once I started, I never put it down as per usual with her books. She can really write!

Backing up from the Thanksgiving turmoil, the book starts in June 1950 and shifts the POV from boarder to boarder as the timeline makes its inexorable crawl towards the “exciting” date. This is an excellent device as not only do we get the events leading up to the end from different perspectives, we also get the stories of the women — all from different backgrounds and with different goals which together comprise a compendium of women’s lives at that time. An injured female baseball player from the short-lived women’s leagues; an older immigrant from Hungary; a young mother whose doctor husband has been overseas for two years; a secretary for the (real life) female Maine senator who goes up against McCarthy when nobody else has the guts; a secretary for HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee); a woman working for the National Archives in love with a gangster despite her best intentions; and the elusive Grace Marsh who brings them all together. These are just hints! Quinn does meticulous research and is able to bring so much of the McCarthy era to the surface — especially around the societal expectations of women. It felt like I was living it.

The book is non-stop action — but — I realized it is the kind of action I care about. Things change, people and their prejudices, fears, and disappointments have to be dealt with and some individuals actually use their experiences to shift their perspectives. Opportunities come up and people learn about themselves (for better and worse) when they choose a reaction. Action does not have to be long (and very dull) car chase scenes or long battles of any kind. Epiphany! Absolutely captivating characters — a couple of “bad men” with no real depth but plenty of men and women (and kids) who are each real in their own way. FYI two of the (fictional) characters were named after people who won the “name-a-character” raffle — what fun! Some impressive twists — do not read the end or the notes first. In addition to being a gripping read, I’m still thinking about it many days later. Always a good sign.

Highly recommended.

Thank you to William Morrow and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on July 9th, 2024.

The Glassmaker by Tracy Chevalier (Historical Fiction)

Writing: 3.5/5 Plot: 4/5 Characters: 4.5/5

A chronicle of glass making in Murano (still known as the center of glass!) as told through the life of Orsola Rosso — the eldest daughter of a glass blowing family. Orsola wants to work with glass herself, but it’s 1486 and the Renaissance hasn’t quite reached the stage of promoting social changes for women. The story uses the (very) unusual contrivance of allowing Orsola and those in her immediate orbit to age slowly while time for the world at large gallops by. While the “action” starts in 1486 and ends in the present day, Orsola only ages from nine to her late sixties. While this device is explained (poetically) in the prolog, I didn’t really get it so I’m hoping that I can help you avoid bafflement by stating it here with less skill but more clarity 🙂

Orsola’s life embodies the personal (love, marriage, and children in a large extended family rife with personalities), the political (Venice shifting from commercial center to Austrian occupied territory to part of a United Italy to tourist center) , and the business (Guild control to competitive pressures to tourist-driven). She and her family go through the Plague (and later Covid!), two world wars, and the changing mores of an evolving Europe as the Renaissance gave way to the Age of Enlightenment followed by whatever our current age is destined to be called. I learned a lot about Italian history — details that I had learned in the past now integrated and brought to life in this story of artisans buffeted by the constantly shifting trends over time. The history became so much more real to me told through the lens of this particular family.

I give this a four star rating because for my taste there was a little more description than I like, though that same description may fascinate others.

Thank you to Viking and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on June 18th, 2024.

The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club by Helen Simonson (Historical Fiction)

Writing: 4.5/5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 4/5

Constance Haverhill is a girl with few prospects. 1919 finds her spending a summer as companion to an elderly lady at a posh hotel at the seaside with an unpleasant future looming before her. The Pre-War Practices Act of 1919 gave returning soldiers their pre-war jobs back and forbade women from holding jobs in Covered Occupations. While Constance is pondering her (limited) options, she meets and is befriended by Poppy Wirrall, a local baronet’s daughter and proprietor of the fledgling women’s motorcycle-based taxi service which she hopes to expand to flying lessons for women. Poppy’s primary goal is to keep women employed and progressing while the government and local councils work equally hard to send the women back to homes and domestic service.

The book is beautifully written with a cast of compelling characters set in a very realistic post-war environment. Each person represents a kind of cohort of the day — women facing the loss of their livelihood and an (extremely) limited supply of potential husbands, wounded soldiers returning to a population that doesn’t want to be reminded of the war, those of the wealthy class still scheming for good matches at the expense of ethics and friendship, foreign born naturalized citizens who had been detained during the war and relegated to low status jobs, and even a mysterious Indian national whose character brings to light the treatment of Indians in Britain and the under-appreciated contribution of Indian men in the war. Simonson writes with intricate detail about the inner thoughts and struggles of several characters as well as painting a comprehensive picture of life in that era. It’s an Austen-style novel of manners combined with a feminist look at post-war lives in Britain with a little romance tossed in.

My only complaint might be that certain “types” of people were not given interior lives but were presented as pure negative stereotypes — mostly people of the monied class and one horribly stereotyped American. I’m sure there were plenty of Americans at the time who really were that unpleasant, but being an American myself I would have enjoyed having at least one “decent” American included 🙂

Thank you to The Dial Press and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 7th, 2024.

The Huntress by Kate Quinn (Historical Fiction)

Another powerhouse from Kate Quinn — propulsive (my new favorite word for books like this where one page practically forces you to turn to the next quickly) and intriguing at multiple levels. Parenthetically, I listened to this on audio and cannot stress enough how fantastic the reader (Saskia Maarleveld) was. I generally prefer reading to listening, but I’m fairly certain that her reading made this book significantly better than it would have been without (and that starts from a high rating to begin with!)

Three intertwined timelines racing towards the identification, location, and capture of the Nazi war criminal called die Jagerin — the Huntress. This is the woman who engaged in murder as Nazi sport, including the killing of children in cold blood towards the end of the war. The timelines: 1946 — Jordan — a 17-year old girl who passionately wants to be a photojournalist a la Margaret Bourke-White; 1950 — Ian Graham — world-weary British war correspondent turned Nazi hunter with an almost desperate need to see die Jagerin caught and tried; 1941 — Nina Markova — born in the frozen wastelands of Siberia whose sheer force of will gets her into the legendary (and historically accurate) Night Witches — an all female bomber squad that marked the beginning of Soviet acceptance of women in combat.

The writing is excellent, with perfect pacing. The characters are detailed and completely believable (to me). Tons of little details that make me feel as though I really know these people and made me miss them when the story was over. Plenty of reflection on life for each of the characters — threads of trust, context, truth without sensationalism (always my favorite), what it means to find a community, the importance of friendship and of having a purpose, and how someone can both love another person and be horrified by them at the same time. Additional details about groups as well — attitudes toward the war and the criminals it produced five years later. I really couldn’t stop reading (listening).

My only negatives — it felt just a little too long — especially listening to an audio book; and I had a hard time knowing who die Jagerin was (this is pretty obvious to the reader from the beginning) but I had to watch the characters NOT FIGURE IT OUT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME!

Highly recommended — especially the audio book.

The Phoenix Crown by Kate Quinn and Janie Chang (Historical Fiction)

Writing: 4/5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 4/5

Two determined women, a wealthy, charming, but deeply dangerous man, and a precipitous event come together in this propulsive novel by Kate Quinn and Janie Chang. I’ve read most of Quinn’s novels; I’m planning to read my first Chang shortly because it looks fascinating!

Gemma Garland comes to San Francisco to meet up with the Met traveling group to join the chorus when a current singer chooses to leave. Garland is a gorgeous soprano who is prevented from singing leading roles due to debilitating migraines she can’t control. Feng Suling is a (very) talented seamstress who is desperate to escape the arranged marriage her uncle is forcing on her to escape his (massive) gambling debts after her parents died. Mr. Thornton — a wealthy and ambitious patron of the arts — is in a position to help them both and yet… he is not necessarily what he seems to be. It is early April in 1906 and the infamous San Francisco earthquake is less than two weeks away.

Good writing encompassing plenty of richly detailed history. Real characters such as Enrico Caruso (famous tenor — I’m guessing most of you know this!), Martin Beck (the founder of the Orpheum theater), and Alice Eastwood (the curator of Botany at the California Academy of Sciences) are inserted into the plot without betraying their actual character or actions (at least not too much). Fascinating details about Asian art, including the Phoenix Crown (real and stunning), an exquisite Dragon Robe, and multiple object d’art are included — both in description and in terms of how they are made. A full description of Chinatown and the various laws, policies, and practices around Chinese immigrants at the time is provided with depth and nuance.

A powerful narrative with a real punch. Plenty of opportunity to perch on the edge of your seat and bite a nail or two.

Thank you to William Morrow Paperbacks and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on February 13th, 2024.

The Samurai’s Garden by Gail Tsukinaya (Historical Literary Fiction)

A quiet, thoughtful, and utterly absorbing book about a young man from Hong Kong sent to a small, Japanese fishing village to recover from tuberculosis on the eve of the second Sino-Japanese war (Fall, 1937). Twenty-year old Stephen is a student and a painter. The year he spends in Tarumi is told through a set of journal entries which are equal parts descriptive and reflective. There is the distant war, with the radio intoning massive Chinese casualties along side propagandist calls for the enemy to “simply surrender to the kindness of the Japanese army, and all will be well.” There is the slow unraveling of his parent’s marriage as his father’s business interests keep him in Japan. And there is the burgeoning friendship with the older Matsu — caretaker and master gardener — and Sachi — whose life was abruptly shattered when leprosy swept the village decades before. Throughout the year, Stephen — feeling deeply but never loudly or dramatically — is slowly developing his own philosophy of living based on the lessons the world is teaching him.

The writing is exquisite — shifting between culture, character, and the natural (and unnatural) world. There is a recurring theme of beauty — sometimes found in the most unlikely places — and yet, once found, inevitable rather than surprising. Throughout all — war, destruction, disease, grief, and the ever tragic profusion of human contradictions — the focus is always on how to move forward — recognizing the fragility of life and finding your own peace and contentment within it. I liked the way the author made it clear that this was not an easy task. And I loved the fact that throughout this story teeming with essential truths, there was neither a cliche nor a saccharine sentiment to be found anywhere in the pages. Some beautiful descriptions of gardens and natural landscapes along with an artist’s way of engaging with the world as well.

Highly recommended.

Quotes:
“ It’s harder than I imagined, to be alone. I suppose I might get used to it, like an empty canvas, you slowly begin to fill.”

“All over Japan they were celebrating the dead, even as more and more Chinese were being slaughtered. There would be no one left to celebrate them. I looked around at all the smiling faces, at Matsu and Fumiko who moved slowly beside me, and wished that one of them could explain to me what was going to happen.”

“Ever since I had come to Tarumi, I’d seen more deaths than in all of my life in Hong Kong. Everything before me was changing. I knew I would never be able to step back into my comfortable past, Ahead of me lurked the violent prospect of war, perhaps bringing the deaths of people I knew and loved, along with the end of my parent’s marriage. These were the terrors I’d somehow escaped until now. And as I sat among the white deutzia blossoms, I felt a strange sensation of growing pains surge through my body, the dull ache of being pulled in other directions.”

“I’ve tried to capture this ghostly beauty on canvas, but like anything too beautiful, it becomes hard to re-create its reality. There’s something about being too perfect, that, even this, which at times appears stiff, almost boring. I finally gave up after several tries.”

“She wasn’t beautiful, not in the way that Tomoko must’ve been, nor did she have the roughness of Matsu. Her attraction wasn’t in the form of perfect features, but from the deep, wrinkles, age spots, and eyes that have seen much of what life has to offer. Fumiko had a face that had been enriched through time.”

“I was old enough to understand everything he said, but as his mouth softly formed the words, I knew the sense of integrity I had long admired in him had died, and then I was already grieving for its loss.”

“He learns how to do art with the stones in her garden: it was a strange feeling, much different from working with the fluidity of brush and paint, or water and earth. The weight of the stones pulled against each stroke and left a distinct feeling of strength and permanence.”

The Diamond Eye by Kate Quinn (Historical Fiction — audio book)

Writing: 5 /5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 5/5
    Kate Quinn can write! This is the third book of hers that I’ve read (in this case, listened to — excellent reader.) Every one grips you completely from beginning to end. This is the story of Mila Pavlichenko — the history student who becomes Russia’s deadliest sniper when the Germans invade Ukraine in 1937. Based on the real person’s memoir, it takes us through her war: from enlistment, to finally getting a weapon, to becoming a sniper (with 309 certified kills), to her participation in the American goodwill tour (where she is befriended by Eleanor Roosevelt) designed to get the US into the war on a second front.
    The primary characters — Mila, her sniper partner Kostya, her should be ex-husband Alexei, and her lover Lionya — were incredible. Full of depth and reflection and firmly placed in the context of their time and place. I loved the depiction of relationships during wartime — the development, the tightness, and sometimes the loss — which often brought tears to my eyes. I also loved Mila’s sense of droll humor — not a characteristic much valued in the Soviet Komsomol. Perhaps this is part of why I felt connected almost instantly, even though Mila’s life was about as far as you could get from my own.
   There is plenty of action and drama in this story, but nothing is “over dramatized.” There is plenty to feel from the factual story itself without needing the embellishment of extra heartstring tugging prose. And the action — which typically bores me — is so personal that is interesting. There are strong feminist themes throughout the book. The Soviets were the only army at the time that allowed women to fight, and yet women were still subjected to expectations of sexual favors, lack of promotion, and plenty of ill will from their male comrades-in-arms. On the US goodwill tour, Mila was subjected to absurd questions such as her skin care regime and lipstick choices on the front as well as the color of her preferred underwear. Her answers were worth the entire price of admission. I particularly appreciated what felt like genuine attitudes toward the Soviet Union from the woman who lived there — there was no smacking of modern or US based sensibilities sneaking into the text.
    As always, Quinn is meticulous in documenting which parts of the novel are fiction and which are based on documented fact. I am quite impressed with both the integration of the two and the clean lines between them, making it easy to enjoy and yet distinguish between, a documentation of a real life and an electrifying story layered on top without disturbing the base.
    Highly recommended (and now I need to go read the rest of her books — my TBR pile is long past the toppling stage…)

A Painted House by John Grisham (Historical Fiction — audio book)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 4/5
This book is unlike any other book Grisham has written — no courtrooms, not a lot of official justice, and not a thriller — but I found it utterly enthralling. It drew me into a world I knew nothing about and brought it to full sensory life. At least part of this was due to the audio book reader (David Lansbury) who captured the mood perfectly with his tone, pacing, and wide range of voices. Not every book (IMHO) is improved by listening to it — but this one certainly was.

The story is apparently somewhat autobiographical and takes us through one picking season on an Arkansas Delta cotton farm in 1952. Told from the perspective of seven year old Luke Chandler, the clarity of his reflections as he learns about life, morality, and people during this period is priceless. The family hires itinerant help in the form of ten Mexicans and a family of hill people. As with most farmers of the time, they are in debt from one season to the next, on the edge of ruin with every storm, flood, broken truck, or the transitory nature of picking labor. Luke is part of it all — the picking, the worrying, and the witnessing. He becomes the holder of too many secrets, and we feel the potential bursting and sickness he takes on with the keeping.

I’d forgotten how good Grisham’s writing is because I’m not that interested in legal thrillers but I was rapt throughout. His characters are such real people — each struggling in his or her own way with constant questions of both survival and morality. Making do in a rough world with little in the way of legal support — people have to figure out how to handle their own problems. Bittersweet and poignant, the narrative spans the Korean war, the movies of the day, the newness (and rareness) of television sets, flooding and tornados, farming economics, and the tension between the old ways and new possibilities.

Loved it.