American Wife and The Wordy Shipmates

Periodically I'll put in requests for books at the public library and if the books are "best sellers" I might be number 80 on the list. I don't mind waiting, but invariably what happens is that all the books will arrive at the same time. So a couple weeks ago I got notification that American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld had arrived along with a fellow blogger's recommendation for The Wordy Shipmates, by Sarah Vowell. With limited time to read both, I shoved my New Yorkers to the side and plowed in. Fortunately I was sick for a few days so could only read and watch KU basketball on the couch. More importantly, I realized these books are nice complements to each other.

The Wordy Shipmates is Sarah Vowell's research on the origins of American settlers in New England and American Wife is a fictionalized life story of Laura Bush (Alice Blackwell in the book)-- in short, these two books are bookends on American History.

Ms. Sittenfeld creates a thoughtful and sympathetic portrait of an average American woman. Alice grows up in a small town in Wisconsin and leads what anyone would consider a fairly ordinary life from the outside. She attends public school, goes to church, interacts with her neighbors, and has a best friend. Her dad works at a bank and her mom stays at home. Her grandma is the spunky antithesis of "normalcy"-- she provides the inspiration for Alice's lifelong liberal leanings. When Alice falls for Charlie Blackwell, a son from a strong and old Republican family, they are still years away from Charlie becoming president (based on W.). Alice is confident she and Charlie can keep their politics separate and to an extent they do, but she does find that her mores and ethics are often at odds with Charlie's public persona. She maintains a fine line between her personal feelings and public face.

Alice's conflict can directly be traced back to the 1630s. In school we learned that the Pilgrims came from England for religious freedom. That's part of the story. Ms. Vowell explains that they were all for religious freedom as long as they all adhered to an agreed upon set of rules. Sound familiar? She gives us the backstory on the founding of different colonies and the seemingly petty disagreements that led to vicious attacks on American Indians, multiple banishments of colonists and beheadings of those who disagreed with the King(s) of England. I liked Ms. Vowell's account of this history because she writes with humor and personal insight and honestly loves our founding fathers (and mothers) despite, and because of, their shortcomings. She cringes when Anne Hutchinson shoots herself in the foot and rolls her eyes at Winthrop's and Williams' disagreements. But she never apologizes for being American-- she loves America.

Both of these books were so well written and edited. They were both worth the wait, and even the $0.60 fine I'll pay for finishing The Wordy Shipmates after its due date.

5/5 netflix stars to each.

Run

I tend to be highly critical of books and movies about Boston, always looking for inauthenticity. The Afflecs are always, "We're from Bahston, we've got the accent." And I'm like, "No, you're from Cambridge. But thanks for advocating for the larger Boston metro area." Authors tend to overstate Boston landmarks, making egregious references to neighborhoods like Roxbury, Dorchester and Charlestown. In Run, Anne Patchett made mostly skillful remarks about landmarks, noting the Citgo sign on a drive to Cambridge, and referencing various T stations. In fact, knowing the city and knowing how small it really is and how various locations fit together, is key to the story.

A prominent Boston Irish politician and his wife adopt two African American children after they couldn't have any more children (suspend your disbelief that such a mixing of races could happen 25 years ago in Boston) and Run takes place over the 24 hours after one of the grown sons is nearly hit by a car, save a strategic push from a woman who turns out to be his and his brother's biological mother. The woman's young daughter, Kenya, witnesses the event and over the course of the night details how she and her mother know the family, and how they have been secretly keeping tabs on the boys for years. This sort of anonymity and close proximity is so possible in a city like Boston. Save the transient college students, Bostonians live here for generations and the city is small enough that you can run into the same people over and over again. Blue blood Boston Brahmins live mere blocks from the city's poor in public housing.

Besides checking on the accuracy of references to my city, I also hold close a carefully edited book, one which keeps the economy of words in check. Fortunately this book held up on both accounts. I'll give it 4/5 netflix stars.

As a nice aside, my mom went to a reading by Ms. Patchett and had this book signed for me!

Half Moon Street

Sometimes I think I've traveled to more places than I actually have. I watch a lot of foreign films; French New Wave is among my favorite genres. I read books set in European, Asian and South American countries. Fortunately, Paul Theroux travels to all the places I haven't and is a prolific writer to boot. Last summer I read Dark Star Safari, his narrative about traveling in a mostly traditional manner from Alexandria to Cape Town. His Africa isn't glamorous-- it's more Peace Corps than Safari and he purposely takes the trail less taken (at least by the white man). Theroux is one of my favorite writers; he has a caustic wit and isn't afraid to express an unpopular opinion. He writes mostly non-fiction, but I find his fiction equally captivating. He sets his stories in foreign locales but mixes the ordinary with irony and sarcasm.
Half Moon Street is an older volume of two novellas. I picked it up hoping to escape from wintry Boston. I got as far as London. The first of the two stories is set in London in the 1980s. Dr. Slaughter is a young woman with a fellowship in international relations. She's headstrong and gutsy, but calculating. She doesn't have the financial means to live the life she wants, but lives frugally, eating vegetarian, turning down alcohol and exercising religiously. When presented with an opportunity to become an "escort" she sees it as a means to meet people who can further her career while also making money and providing a social life on the side. This story is one that makes you cringe, but also one that has you keep reading, like watching a wreck. Ms. Slaughter's name alone suggests a terrible end, but it isn't until the novella's final paragraph that even the reader realizes how close she's come.
The second novella takes place in Boston and it's suburbs and the Cape. We learn of two brothers, twins, who, far from being close, are nothing but. As children they would trick parents. teachers and friends, one playing the other. The impersonations were mostly self preservation for each-- passing history, passing a driver's test. After the Vietnam War one brother goes missing, and the remaining brother is mostly satisfied by his disappearance as he can live his own life. One day the missing brother shows up, sick, at his brother's door. After being told he can stay a week, no more, his twin goes to the family vacation home on the Cape. Upon his return, the "missing" brother is dead. The surviving brother disposes of the body (after all, it wasn't his fault) and then goes on an unintended mission to find out who his brother was. It turns out he was a doctor in Kenmore Square and the brother turns to his old ruse of impersonation to find out why his brother was killed. The end is as chilling an end as the first novella. Both stories are unrelated save the theme of impersonation and its unintended consequences. Netflix rating of 3/5 stars.