Guilty Pleasure

Last Thursday, I drove a bit over 300 miles to Beloit and Rockford in order to have lunch with a colleague near Edgerton, Wisconsin, see granddaughter Jaime and her parents, and pick up David to bring him home for mid-term break. I was going to have time Thursday night and Friday morning in Beloit, so I grabbed the third of C. J. Box's murder mysteries.

Nancy had "discovered" Box's books in a West Yellowstone bookstore, and the first two were pretty good diversions. They aren't great literature, but Box created some interesting characters and not everything works out well at the end of the ambitious and violent plots.

The "star" of these books is a Wyoming game warden who works in the north central part of the state. He's a straight arrow and a good guy, who is human enough to be tempted to respond in kind to the real evil he confronts. The plots have seemed realistic and authentically western. Dick Cheney would recognize these people and events, although he probably wouldn't like the political sentiments that are implied.


This book is Winterkill, and the plot centers on the actions of frustrated, crazy, and incompetent bureaucrats (mostly U.S. Forest Service and FBI in this book). Other players include a tribe of anti-government activists, a couple of corrupt judges, and a violent hermit with a conscience. The stories are so well-told that I was entranced. At one point, I was so wrapped up in the action, I was late meeting David after he turned in his last paper before break. I could hardly wait to get home so I could finish the book.

Now, I always feel a little guilty reading books like these. Shouldn't I be reading something more substantial? something deeper? Something like Old Jules that raises significant questions like the one Dan Conrad raised below?

Then I thought about alternatives to reading things like Winterkill. TV? Radio? Writing things myself? Surfing the Internet?

I almost never get as wrapped up in a television show as I get wrapped up in a book. These days I watch TV with a computer on my lap so I can look things up or play a game in those great gaps between those moments when paying attention is necessary. Radio? I drive with the radio on and rarely remember what was on. Books are still incredible. Even those action/adventure/mystery books that fall far short of being fine literature. If you want a good diversion and and action-filled (and violence-filled) story, check out C. J. Box's books. The first one was Open Season. The second was Savage Run. This one was Winterkill. It probably works best to read them in sequence, but it's obviously not necessary.

• C. J. Box's home page
  
• Ava Dianne Day's review of Winterkill at Book Reporter
  
• Kate Sherrod's review of Winterkill at BlogCritics.org
  

The Master Butchers Singing Club

The little cabin on Little Blake Lake is a place for reading. I read another book there over the last three visits. The vistas, the critters, and the solitude all beckon me back to Sidetrack, but the reading opportunities, away from the distractions of everyday living, are equally attractive.

On Sunday, I finished The Master Butchers Singing Club by Louise Erdrich. The book is a couple years old, but I just got around to reading it. I mostly enjoyed the experience.


The characters within the novel are wonderfully drawn and most of the stories are well-told. Delphine and Eva strong, determined women in search of themeselves, Fidelis and Cyprian, men escaping from their World War I experiences and themselves, and even Fidelis' sons, immigrants' children, are all exciting people. Episodes in the book are intriguing tales.

But this book is bigger than the collection of stories it consists of. It is rather like this book is the core of a whole series of novels, which are as yet incomplete. There is the one about Delphine and Roy (her presumptive father) and Delphine's search for her mother. There is another novel about the connections between Delphine, Fedelis, Eva (Fidelis' first wife), and the four sons of Fedelis and Eva. There is another novel inside this one about those children growing up in North Dakota and being divided by a mother's death into groups of brothers who fought on opposite sides of World War II. There's another novel about Cyprian Lazarre, another man in search of himself. These all could be novels, but they're not. Maybe they will be. Maybe other stories in this book will be novels. I'd like to see them. I don't know that I'd like them, but they'd be worth reading. In other words, I'd expect them to be a lot like Erdrich's other books.

• A review from Ex Libris Book Reviews, another blog of book reveiws.
  
• Liz Fraser's review (and quotes from a number of media reviews) from Book Club, a book review blog from New Zealand.
  
• The publisher's web page for The Master Butchers Singing Club
  

Who would you like to write your biography?

Dan Conrad wrote about a book he waded through. On the other side (after the reading was done) he found a question that deserves some thought and discussion. That's exactly what the "Comments" link at the bottom of the entry is for. If you'd rather, you can e-mail your comments to "Reading AtSymbol SideTrack Period org" (I presume you can translate that code into the mailing address while automated spamming programs won't steal it and fill my mail server with junk mail. Remember, no spaces allowed in e-mail addresses.)

Dan wrote:

"On a recommendation from a friend, I recently read Old Jules, the biography of an important and eccentric early Nebraska settler written in the 1930s by his daughter, Mari Sandoz.

"It was a hard book to read or, rather, a very good book about incredibly hard times. I’ve read a number of books about that area and era, including most all of Willa Cather, but none of them depicted life in so raw a fashion or as being so desperately bleak as did Ms. Sandoz. I will never lose the image of a young woman, naïve and full of hope, getting off the train in her Eastern or European finery and looking about to identify her no doubt idealized prospective husband and finding instead an old, crippled, dirty, unkempt, uncouth, smelly, dirt-poor tyrant (Old Jules) instead.

"Besides being a powerful (though perhaps overly long and detailed) account of the struggle for existence in Nebraska in the late 1890s and early 1900s, it is notable on another account as well. This is a biography written by a daughter about her own father. She writes with a kind of grudging respect for his accomplishments, and maybe a tinge if filial loyalty, but with no hint of warmth or love for him as a person. It seemed that Old Jules had no capacity for loving his daughter (or wives or other children or anyone else) either. Perhaps love and kindness are luxuries of more prosperous times.

"This made me think about biographies, and who writes them. Old Jules was written by a daughter, and while his achievements are duly noted, it is the person of the man that dominates: particularly his coldness, crudeness and obduracy. Imagine that the biography had been written by a history professor at the U of Nebraska or was a publication of the Nebraska Horticultural Society. Then we might have an inspiring tale of a frontier hero, dominated by accounts of his struggles and triumphs and ultimate contributions (which were considerable) and with personal life serving only as faint and relatively unimportant backdrop.

"It made me think about how, to our own children, our professional achievements are of relatively little interest and significance compared to how they observe and experience us as a person, as a parent, spouse, brother, neighbor or friend.

"Who would you like to write your biography?"

And I'd like to add a couple more questions to Dan's: What do you hope your children's version of your biography sounds like? What do you think it will sound like? What biography of my father have I passed on to my youngest son who has no memories of his grandfather?

---

See also

• The publisher's web page for Old Jules
  
• The Enduring Mari Sandoz by David L. Bristow from Nebraska Life Magazine, 2001
  

Banned Book Week

September 23-30 is Banned Book Week

Read a Banned Book

Get a poster and action suggestions at The American Booksellers' Foundation for Free Expression

New Beginnings

It's a new beginning.

I flew to South Bend, Indiana to teach a workshop for AP teachers. It's a short flight, so I picked up a short book at River City Books: The Staggerford Flood by John Hassler.

A few years ago, I read several of Hassler's novels and got a little tired of what I saw as his Pollyana-ish perspective. On the other hand, I did have good memories of the characters he created. So I took the book on the airplane with me.

It's the story of a reunion of a group of people who were stranded by a flood for a few days. The reunion is complicated by improbable number one: a death that, in some way, might threaten a the continuation of a dying tiny town. The complication is resolved with improbable number two: an impersonation that would never fly in a small town.

The characters are still the strong part of Hassler's work. I enjoyed reading about them.

The publisher has a reading guide for The Staggerford Flood.

A review from Curled Up With a Good Book says, "...This novel perfectly showcases Hassler’s talent in reminding us of days gone by with memories of simpler times. With Garrison Keillor and his Lake Wobegon, Hassler is the undisputed muse of Minnesota. Quirky and wry, Hassler’s characters are seductive and charming, offering the reader a respite from the stresses of everyday life: a visit back in time, when conversations were held on porch swings and grandparents lived only a block away."