I'm Down

by Mishna Wolff

 

A memoir of the author's childhood up to about the age of 14. She is the white daughter of European-white parents, but her father apparently wanted to be close to black culture, so lived in a black neighborhood, had black friends, played dominoes, listened to soul music, and had black girlfriends. At school, Wolff is mocked for being white and clueless, but later on she scores highly on some aptitude tests and is moved to a private school with rich, white students, who find her mannerisms a little strange, Through it all, Wolff must deal with her father, who comes across in the memoir as a loving but hard-ass loser who can’t finish projects or hold down a job. When he marries a girl only ten years older than Mishna, the stepmother demands Mishna get a job at the age of 14, despite her maintaining a 4.0 at school and being involved in several extracurriculars.

I picked up this book because I thought it might have something interesting to say about race in America, how Wolff was too white for the black kids and too black for the white kids, but it only very briefly touches on race. Why was her father so interested in a culture that wasn’t his own? What kinds of cultural barriers were erected by her living in the neighborhood? These questions aren't answered or even addressed. Is race a huge factor in her social standing? Not really, she makes friends in both schools with no more trouble than most quiet, introspective kids. It is a funny memoir in parts, but in other parts I had to put it down briefly, the demands her father and stepmother putting on her so hostile as to edge on to emotional abuse. This isn't a book about race or culture; it's the memoir of a girl living in a poor neighborhood, who went to a rich school. It's told in an episodic manner, with the stories not building on each other or leading to any real insights. It certainly must also be at least a little fictionalized, as her lengthy conversations at the ages of 10-14 can’t be all that accurately recorded years later. 

Crook Manifesto

by Colson Whitehead

2023

A tryptich of tales of crime and corruption in Harlem, from 1971 to 1976. Ray Carney, a former fence now a successful furniture salesman, is dragged reluctantly back into the life when a bent cop from his crook days comes asking for favors, and gets quite forceful about it. Two years later, a firebug acquaintance of Carney's hires Pepper, a taciturn muscle for hire, to watch over the Blaxpoitation movie he's making, and when the movie's star goes missing, Pepper goes looking for her, hitting the streets in his own unrelenting way until he gets the attention of an aging crime boss. Then, in 1976, amid the bicentennial fanfare that rings so hollow in Harlem, Carney hires Pepper to look into an arson which hurt one of his tenants, and they end up uncovering a wide and nasty network of corruption that puts them both in danger.

Whitehead's range as a writer is extraordinary. During the reading of this novel I occasionally imagined I was reading S.A. Cosby and not the erudite, literary prose master of The Intuitionist and John Henry Days. He's a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, so it's no surprise that he can inhabit a crime writer's world with ease. I did not know when I began this book that it is a sequel seven years after Harlem Shuffle, also about Ray Carney, which I have not read, but this novel is easily enjoyed on its own. The capers are crackling with raw noir energy, the Harlem is populated with a vast assortment of crooked characters with nicknames and idiosyncratic predilections, even those who show up in name only, and the drama and suspense come in unnerving bursts. There's plenty of sly humor among the seedy criminality, as well: "the flamboyant quotient in Harlem was at a record high these days, thanks to manufacturing innovation in the synthetic-material sector, new liberal opinions vis-à-vis the hues question, and the courageousness of the younger generation." But it's more than just a crime novel leavened with black humor, of course; a writer as talented as Whitehead wouldn't be satisfied with that. It's also an examination of power and race in America; in the background of the skull-cracking and gunplay there are rumblings of disquiet at the injustice and power differentials that Harlem, and America, are built on.

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking

by Susan Cain

This readable and insightful book combines scientific research, historical analysis, and personal anecdotes to make a strong case for recognizing, accepting, and nurturing the quieter, or introverted, personalities among us. Cain cites, among dozens of others, Jerome Kagan's studies on temperament, which show how introverted and extroverted traits are biologically rooted in sensitivity to stimuli, and Anders Ericsson's research on expertise and deliberate practice, which emphasizes the importance of sustained, focused, and — most importantly, for this purpose — isolated effort in achieving mastery in any field. Cain highlights this work to counter the myth that extroverted traits like charisma and social dominance are essential for success. She argues that introverts are not anti-social at all, but differently social, and shows how both introverts and extroverts seek out and are supported by different external conditions (in her metaphor, introverts, like orchids, thrive under specific, supportive conditions but falter in the wrong environments). She also points to historical figures such as Rosa Parks and Mahatma Gandhi as examples of introverts who changed the world, emphasizing the power of quiet strength.

I liked this book's clear, firm messaging. Building off the psychological and sociological studies, Cain has advice for work leaders, parents, and teachers. She advises organizations to rethink open-plan offices and team brainstorming sessions, as these often stifle introverts' creativity. She stresses the importance of creating spaces where independent and solo thinking is valued, citing, for example, Steve Wozniak's hours of isolated work in making the home PC. Parents are encouraged to respect their introverted children’s natural tendencies, avoiding over-scheduling and teaching them that their quieter ways are a strength rather than a flaw. For educators, Cain emphasizes the need to avoid bias toward extroverted students in classrooms. I myself have definitely been guilty of advising children to "talk more in class" without trying to reframe any biases. Why see the quiet kid as shy, someone who needs to break out of their comfort zone? Yes, they need to engage in the world, but why not first value their wisdom in analyzing a situation, being reflective, not just leaping in? This is an essential shift in outlook for anyone who wants to nurture confidence in young children. Overall, this book is an inspiring call to embrace the full spectrum of human temperaments, offering practical strategies to empower introverts and build more inclusive environments in homes, schools, and workplaces. 

 four stars

On Beauty

by Zadie Smith
2005

In the college town of Wellington, Massachusetts, two academic families, the Belseys and the Kippses, are ideological and personal opposites whose lives become deeply intertwined. Howard Belsey is a politically liberal professor of art at Wellington College, a white Englishman married to an African-American woman. Their three children — Jerome, Zora, and Levi — grapple with their own identities and conflicts in the face of their parents' tumultuous marriage. Howard, an atheist and iconoclast, has not published recently, and brings chaos to his marriage with infidelity and his outlook which rejects the important or sacred; he seems not at home in the world.  In contrast, Monty Kipps, a British-Caribbean art historian, is conservative, confident, larger than life, popular, and successful.  When the oldest son, Jerome Belsey, becomes romantically involved with Monty's daughter, Victoria, an awkward entanglement of personal, political, and professional conflicts is set in motion. As the story unfolds, and minor characters flit in and out of the families' orbit, the characters confront themes of race, privilege, identity, and fidelity while struggling to reconcile their ideals with the messy realities of life.

The novel draws heavily on its academic setting, portraying the complexities of campus politics, ideological divisions, and personal hypocrisies. It's densely layered yet is a smooth, alluring read, has a mordant wit, and the prose style is beautiful.  It won the Orange Prize, was nominated for the Booker, and ended up on countless Best of the Year lists.  Smith acknowledges an explicit comparison to E.M. Forster's Howard's End in both its plot and its concern with human relationships, but I haven't read that novel, so perhaps I'm missing something.  I very much enjoyed reading it, and I think Smith is an excellent communicator of complex subjects.  I liked especially the critiques of intellectualism's failings regarding the hard realities of the world, and the nuanced depiction of race, especially Kiki's experiences as a non-academic black woman in a white man's academic world.  I was put off, somewhat, by the overstuffed narrative, with its many subplots and secondary characters vying for attention.  I am also the type of reader who seeks some form of closure to be fully satisfied, and this novel, essentially a slice of life, albeit a complex one, begins in media res and ends with all possibilities open.  In sum, this is a masterfully-written work that I enjoyed reading, but upon completing it, I felt a bit let down, as if I'd had a whirlwind dance with someone I can now no longer find.

four stars

Nod

by Adrian Barnes

2012

One day, without explanation, everyone on Earth loses the ability to sleep. Everyone, that is, except a select few, perhaps one in a thousand, who still can recharge their bodies and minds. Paul, a writer of books on etymology, is one such lucky soul. Tanya, his girlfriend, is not. In a maximum of four weeks, the Awakened will die, their bodies and brains taxed to the maximum. But before that happens, civilization will collapse and millions of people who start to get very desperate, erratic, and insane. Paul finds that his latest, unpublished work, Nod, has fallen into the hands of a charismatic nutcase who leads a band of followers, and he tries to navigate a tricky line between placating the horde who see him as a prophet and saying the wrong thing and being martyred by madmen. And then there's the tricky problem of the children he wants to save...

This is a wonderfully eerie apocalyptic nightmare scenario. It's such a simple idea, but so open to horrible possibilities. A world of brainless zombies is one thing; a world of cunning, crazed, sleep-deprived iconoclasts, jealous and suspicious of your ability to sleep, is something rather more frightening. At least you know where you stand with zombies. The book is a quick read, with a taut, heavy atmosphere of dread, and depictions of real cruelty, leavened slightly by Paul's expounding on interesting old words and ruminations about what life, in the regular old world, was really about. Barnes isn't interested in "hard science fiction" ideas about what in reality cause such a doomsday scenario or why some might be unaffected; this is more in the way of speculative apocalyptic horror with an faintly optimistic outlook. Sadly, Barnes died of a rare cancer right after publishing this book, so we'll never know what other gems he might have written. 

four stars

The Ministry of Time

by Kaliane Bradley

2024

In a near-future London, the protagonist (who is never named) takes on a government job about which she is told nothing. It turns out that the UK has discovered the secret of time travel (from the past to the future only), and our protagonist is hired to be a "bridge" to the present for her charge, a man from the Navy presumed dead in 1847. This is real-life Commander Graham Gore, who perished in the infamous Franklin expedition. Along with the other bridges and time-displaced persons she teaches her expat about such soul-shaking Spotify, the looser morals of the age, and the end of the British Empire. Gore takes it all calmly, considering, and soon he and the bridge (called "little cat" as a pet name by Gore) find themselves falling in love. But there are a lot of secrets that Little Cat is yet to discover about the Ministry; clearly, the government has an ulterior motive in using time travel, and soon she and Gore are in grave danger.

I enjoyed how the novel explores the consequences of defying history, and I loved the characters from diverse eras, especially the spunky 17th century farm girl and the quiet, guilt-ridden homosexual from 1916. Key themes include colonialism (the author is of Cambodian descent, and her characters have diverse backgrounds and perspectives), climate change, generational trauma, and complex identities, all handled with a mix of historical realism and humor. All good so far. However, I personally am not into romance novels at all, and this is easily a romance novel as much as a science fiction or speculative novel. I found this subplot frankly boring. Then, too, I am never patient with characters who don't see the obvious; when, for example, Little Cat hears about an obviously futuristic weapon in the Ministry, she dismisses it utterly as a mistake, despite the fact that, well, she just learned that time travel is possible, right? I felt as though the book never really got itself fully together; I liked how Gore adapted to the present, but the secrets and subplots that followed felt rushed and unsatisfying to me. The book was overlong, tedious in its pacing in some parts, and rushed in others. Alternating chapters which tell what happened to Gore in the past are not particularly interesting and have no bearing on how he acts or thinks in the present. And, as a minor gripe, the author relies way too much on metaphors, some rather silly. A good editor probably could have made this book more readable, but as it is, I was disappointed and often put it down out of boredom.

The Thursday Murder Club

by Richard Osman

Joyce, a recent resident of an upscale retirement home, is invited to join the Thursday Murder Club, a group of three other pensioners. Elizabeth, a woman whose past hints at secret service work, Ron, a former union leader, and Ibrahim, a retired psychiatrist, like to go over police cold cases as a hobby. When the local greedy yuppie land developer's right hand man turns up dead, the four unlikely but still sharp amateur detectives are excited to take on a current case. Managing to get into the reluctant good graces of the actual police investigating the case, they make good progress, but when more bodies start turning up, things get really complicated.

This debut mystery captivated me instantly. It's witty, fast-paced, full of twists and turns and red herrings, and had a large cast of endearing characters with their own quirks and secrets. Extremely clever, genuinely funny, and even poignant at times, when it discusses loss, friendship or death. The authorial choice to alternate between one first-person narrator (Joyce) and a third-person narrator that keeps things teasingly ambiguous is original and fun. The characters are vivid and the plot is dizzying. It just might be a five-star book, but I ding it one star for "cheating" the reader by using previously unknown information to reveal one of the mysteries (oh yes, there's more than one whodunit here). I may say this a lot, but I really do want to read more of this sly, moving, lively series.