 he killed Helge, Helga could not later kill them.  Then we see that scene where a seemingly dead Helga, on the floor of the bunker, takes a first breath. Did Helge die?  To me this was another incident, like the jamming of the gun(or was the safety on?) where it could be as time(or god) possibly intervenes in events.  It’s left ambiguous enough to have several explanations, both spiritual and rational.Golden State -- a book that could only have been w...
March has proved to be an exceptional month with the addition of four books I highly recommend.
The scope of Winslow’s work is breathtaking. Over the course of 20 years, he’s written more than 1800 pages in three books on the DEA and the drug cartels. Winslow’s epic trilogy began with The Power of the Dog (which I haven’t read), followed by The Cartel (which I have) and concludes this month with The Border.
The Border is sweeping in scope with a broad cast of characters and settings ranging from Guadalajara to Guatemala and Washington to Wall Street. Winslow takes us inside the drug trade as the cartels engage in a vicious struggle for supremacy. We witness first-hand the damage drugs — increasingly more powerful — inflict on addicts and how U.S. policy toward asylum seekers dehumanizes individuals and forces many into a life of crime.
But most sobering is Winslow’s account of 1) Wall Street’s willingness to launder millions of dollars in drug money, 2) the misguided U.S. drug laws that impose harsh sentences on minor offenders and 3) the somber reality that the “Mexican drug problem” begins in America.
As with the best thrillers, The Border moves at a break-neck pace. It is a magnificent page-turner.
The most recent book in Robinson’s series, which features DCI Banks. Careless Love serves up a nice little mystery as Banks and his team must decide between mishap or murder.
Robinson’s Banks’ books are comparable to Ian Rankin’s Rebus series. Make room on your reading table for both.
Benjamin Dreyer is the copy chief of Random House. He’s clearly been taking notes through the years and now assembled those notes into a valuable resource for writers.
Punctuation, grammar, spelling, redundancies and more are all touched on. Just as valuable as the content of this book is its tone. Dreyer approaches his material seriously, but is not without humor.
I suggest reading only a few pages of Dreyer’s English a day so as to enjoy it more and to better soak up its lessons. And then, keep in near to hand, we’re all going to need it.
Rick Bragg is like one of those athletes who is so smooth, so effortless that we forget the hours of labor that have gone into making him appear naturally gifted. 
Bragg is a pleasure to read. He’s a poet and a story teller, who can evoke laughs and tears, sometimes both with a single telling.
The Cook in the World is part cookbook, and all memoir. With his mother’s guidance he assembles recipes from the family table. Cream sausage gravy, chicken roasted in cider, beef short ribs, sweet potato pie, and ham with redeye gravy are only a few of the dishes served up in this tantalizing book by Rick Bragg.
It’s March, yet I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.
Two terrific books — Golden State by Ben H. Winters and Slowhand, The Life and Music of Eric Clapton by Philip Norman.
Golden State is a book that could have only been written during the Trump Presidency. It is a deeply disturbing book with echoes of Bradbury and Orwell.
Cameras and recording devices are everywhere, allowing the state to stitch together events into a single, accepted truth. At the end of each day, citizens complete a record of the events of their day. The record includes receipts from meals and a list of people met in the course of the day, duly stamped by each individual on the list.
Everything, everything, is put into the record.
There’s much more that could be said about society in this strange new world, but such discoveries are best left to the reader.
Golden State revolves around Laszlo Ratesic, a veteran of the Speculative Service. Ratesic can detect lies, and is rigorous in his pursuit of threats to the Objectively So. After being summoned by police to what appears to be the accidental death of a roofer, he stumbles upon a plot to undermine the state.
In January it was reported that since taking office, President Trump has made 7,645 false or misleading claims. “Since taking office, the president has lied about everything from immigration figures to the number of burgers he served to the Clemson football team at the White House last week,” reports The Guardian.
Of course, the President is unlikely to agree with that news article by The Guardian and is more than likely to label it fake news. A charge he has brought against such exemplars of journalism as The New York Times and Washington Post.
It’s intriguing to ponder what Trump would make of a Golden State. Would he embrace a society without television or radio? Where there is no Internet? No newspapers, except that operated by the state? What would he make of a world where citizens share a belief in objective truth and challenges to the Objectively So are met with imprisonment and exile?
I believe he’d embrace such a world with undue haste. Or to couch my argument in terms Winters and his readers would understand: Stipulated.
Philip Norman has been a prolific chronicler of the mop tops from Liverpool. He’s written eponymous biographies of Paul McCartney and John Lennon as well as a biography of the Beatles, Shout!
He’s also written biographies of Elton John, Buddy Holly, Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones.
Which is to suggest that Norman is supremely equipped for his newest endeavor, Slowhand, in which he turns his attention to rock giant Eric Clapton.
Norman duly charts Clapton’s the rise of Clapton’s music career, his battle with the demons of heroin and alcohol and his incessant philandering. Clapton’s relationship with women seems to parallel his relationship with the bands he joined. An ardent pursuer of women, he quickly lost interest in them once they yielded to his importuning.
As for bands, there were many — the Yardbirds, John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, Blind Faith, Cream, Derek and the Dominoes, and, finally, a solo career of stunning scope and virtuosity.
Slowhand is an even-handed and entertaining look into the stormy life of a gifted musician.
This is the second time I’ve read Still Life by Louise Penny. It wasn’t intentional. When I moved the book onto the Books-To-Be-Read-Soon pile, I didn’t realize I’d read the book previously. I’ve read all of Penny’s recent books, but was certain that I’d had not read her first three or four.
It was only after I was a few chapters into the book that I began to experience déjà vu. So I delved into my archives and, yes, I first read Still Life in July, 2010.
I’ve read hundreds of books since then so I think my oversight is understandable.
Penny’s books (with one exception) are set in the Canadian village of Three Pines. The village is a short distant from the U.S. border and doesn’t show up on any map.
The cast of characters — Penny’s villagers for the most part — appear from book to book. They are archetypes: the gay men who operate the local bistro, marvelous cooks who collect and sell antiques; the retired psychologist who runs a bookstore; the cranky, old woman poet; the artist who is superbly talent, but misunderstood.
The formula has propelled Penny into the front ranks of mystery writers. She’s a bestselling author with a loyal following.
But the formula is turning stale. It’s odd such a feeling would surface after reading her first book, but it all feels recycled I thought, Oh, she’s doing it again, only to realize she was doing it for the first time. It’s only in the next book and the next that she does, indeed, do it again and again and again.
I also have a quibble with a particular incident in Still Life. Gamache is imparting four rules, which guide his professional and personal life, to a fledgling agent of the Sûréte. He learned the rules from his supervisor at the beginning of his career.
In relaying the four rules, Gamache forgets the fourth. I forgot, he says. The trainee misunderstands Gamache. She thinks when he says, I forgot, that this is the fourth rule. Her misunderstanding is used against her later in the novel.
It’s a cheap trick on Penny’s part, and I like the book less because of it.
The two married couples at the center of Tessa Hadley’s fine new novel, Late In The Day, are a complacent, unlikable pair. Complacent until the unexpected death of one them turns the survivors’s lives upside down. They remain unlikable.
Hadley’s greatest gift lies in her powers of observation. She plies that skill here as