Bright, Precious Days by Jay McInerney

Not all reviewers were equally smitten with Jay McInerney's third novel about Russell and Corrine Calloway. Reading between the lines, I gather that some may have found it too, well, precious. Not so for me. Because I haven't read the two previous works about this New York City power couple, "The Good Life," and "Darkness Falls," I came to them fresh, thanks to an advanced readers' copy from the publisher, Knopf. I really enjoyed this book. It's sarcastic, funny, poignant, biting, and honest.

Taking us inside the writing and publishing business right before the 2008 financial meltdown, McInerney drops so many literary names and references that some might accuse him of being pretentious. But I loved reading about the behind-the-scenes machinations that result in a published book. Especially well-done and realistic is Russell's discovery of a "fresh new voice in fiction." Jack is an unpolished kid from the south whose undisciplined work shone under Russell's editing, a young man whose success went to his head as quickly as his star faded.

McInerney says that New York is really just a small town where everyone knows everyone, and the city, from Soho to Harlem, is a major character in this book He conjures up the very essence of what it's like to live among, yet on the fringes of the 1%, the endless fund raisers, charity parties, openings, screenings, benefits. He pulls us into that life, shallow and exhausting, and mesmerizes us with the rich tapestry of lives lived on the edge of the precipice.

Yes, they made it through the sex, drugs, and rock and roll days, for which there's little nostalgia. Now, will they survive the indignities of middle age and the looming financial crisis? Obviously pulling on his own thoughts about aging, McInerney depicts couples in middle age, rethinking their marriages, contemplating (and often having) affairs, grasping at those last ditch efforts to stave off boredom even if it means downing a Cialis with your $1500 bottle of Bordeaux.

And yet, ever the generous writer, McInerney forgives Corinne and Russell, Washington and Veronica, Tom and Casey their vanities, their deceptions that mean so little in the overall scheme of things. There is much love and respect among these couples. They have histories that are worth preserving. There's a wonderful scene on the evening of the 2008 presidential election when the long time friends and their teenage kids sit together watching the news results roll in from the various TV stations, learning that Barack Obama will be the next president of the United States.

The champagne corks pop, the sense of hope in the future is palpable. We realize that these couples, these friends, will probably make it. I remembered my friend Don and I popping our own champagne that night here in Florida, calling my sister in Massachusetts, and I felt nostalgic for those bright, precious days. That's what a good writer can do for you.

Mullen's Darktown Tells of a Dark Time

Whenever I'm getting ready to fly I want to make sure that I have a book that will grab me and hold my attention for several hours. Such a novel accompanied me home to Florida from Baltimore last week. "Darktown," by Thomas Mullen was one of the most talked about books at Book Expo in Chicago in May and it lives up to the hype.

Based upon the true story of the first black police force in Atlanta, Georgia, in the late 1940's, this book has been billed as a police procedural but it is much more than that. In fact, the central murder mystery is probably pretty easy for those of us who thrive on thrillers to solve, but it is the historically accurate tale of the eight officers and how they had to operate with both hands tied behind their backs that is at the crux of this novel.

Begun as an experiment and a quid pro quo between black leaders of Atlanta and then mayor William Hartsfield, the first black officers were brought on board amid threats and intimidation from white officers, many of whom were still not- so-covert members of the Klan, and were hell-bent on seeing that these fellow police officers would not be successful, or even live to tell their stories. http://historyatlanta.com/atlantas-first-black-police-officers/

Partners Lucius Boggs and Tommy Smith patrol the Auburn Avenue neighborhood on foot, black officers are not allowed to drive police cars, where they are distrusted by their own black neighbors as sell-outs. They are only allowed to intercede when the crime is black on black. They do not have jurisdiction to arrest whites, a fact that diminishes respect and authority to the point where they feel emasculated.

When they see a white man, obviously drunk driving in their neighborhood, (he's knocked over a street lamp), they stop him and request license and registration. The man's disdain for the officers is painful even to read. The fact that he has a terrified young black female passenger sporting a bruise on her face, is ominous. Boggs and Smith are required to call in white officers to handle what should obviously be an arrest, but when the most terrifyingly racist officer, Dunlow, arrives on scene, we know that nothing will happen.

A few days later, that same young woman's body shows up, abandoned on a garbage dump, with a bullet hole through her chest, setting in motion an investigation. Hampered by the double standards of the time, a black body is of little interest to the Atlanta police department, and black officers are not allowed to work out of police headquarters with their peers, or even have access to reports, Boggs and Smith pursue leads on the sly putting themselves at even greater risk than usual.

Mullen does an excellent job with characterization, delving into the motivations of officers like Lucius, son of a well-connected local minister, who could have made a safer career choice. He also addresses the nuanced ways in which a new batch of more educated, younger white officers, evidenced by Dunlow's new partner, Rakestraw, abhor the violent, racist, old ways of policing, while being fearful of showing too much solidarity with the black officers.

This is a solid piece of historical fiction tied up with a murder mystery. It is also a terrific work of social commentary that will leave readers wondering just how far our police departments have actually come on that long road to equal justice under the law. 

  

A Respite from the Darkness with Jenny Colgan

If you are reading this blog then it's a safe bet that you might resemble Nina Redmond, Jenny Colgan's delightful heroine, who blatantly admits she prefers books to people. Haven't we all felt that way sometimes? Especially lately?

Nina is a librarian whose forte is matching patrons with the perfect book. She loves her work, but as those of us in the business have already learned, the times they are a changin'. In Birmingham, England, funds are dwindling and libraries are forced to reinvent themselves. You know the terms... maker spaces, community centers, digital labs. Books? Well, they no longer fit into the equation.

Staff members are let go but told that they may reapply for their jobs IF they are willing to wear the new hats required of them. Nina tries, but she just can't stop herself from rhapsodizing about books during her interview. Wrong move.

Yes, this novel is a romantic comedy, perhaps a little too heartfelt for some tastes, but every now and then don't we all just need a book that makes us feel that all's right with the world? I know that I do. (Thank you Alexander McCall Smith!) I thoroughly enjoyed watching Nina stretch a bit, move out of her comfort zone, and stand on her own two feet, all the while turning a life-long dream into reality.

"The Bookshop on the Corner," is actually a refurbished van, one that Nina travels all the way to the wilds of Scotland to purchase. We watch as she slowly falls in love with the people and the quiet of the countryside, such a far cry from the chaos of downtown Birmingham. With the aid of her plucky roommate, Nina ships cartons of books by train, managing to fall for one of the conductors in the process, to the Highlands, where she meets a wonderful cast of characters while operating her traveling bookstore.

Colgan has a great sense of humor, offering some laugh-out-loud moments that librarians and booklovers will especially relate to. She'll also make you want to book a trip to Scotland asap, a country she obviously loves and where she apparently makes her own home. If you're looking for a break from the ugly reality of the news of the day, Jenny Colgan should be your go-to woman. Reading her will give a boost to your feel-good pheromones!

Yaa Gyasi's Homegoing

Oh how I wish I had arrived at the National Book Festival in time to hear Yaa Gyasi speak with the audience about the impetus for this absolutely phenomenal debut novel. It's been called, and truly is, breathtaking. I am calling it a modern day "Roots," and I suspect that the incredible story Gyasi shares is as much about her own familial line as Alex Haley's was about his.

Ms. Gyasi was born in Ghana but left for America by the age of three. She says that she had no real feelings toward that country until a visit in 2009 when she was a student at Stanford. She returned and toured the UNESCO World Heritage Site that is one of the settings for her novel. Cape Coast Castle has a long history dating back to the Swedes and then the Danes, but Gyasi begins her novel when the British made it their headquarters for the slave trade in the 1800's.

Two major tribes, the Asante and the Fante, competed to do business with the English, sadly selling their own people into slavery. Thousands of enslaved people were held in the dungeons of the Cape Coast Castle prior to being shipped  through the door of no return to the United States. What readers may not know is that African women were often married to British soldiers in exchange for gold or cloth. They lived in relative luxury on the upper floors of the castle while their fellow tribeswomen were enslaved in the basement.

Gyasi took this fact and built a historically accurate, multi-generational novel around Effia and Esi, half sisters unaware of each other's existence, who find themselves in this very situation. Through an act of trickery, Effia's step-mother arranges a marriage between her Fante daughter and a white castle officer, James Collins. In another bit of treachery, a raid on an Asante village results in Esi being captured and enslaved in the Cape Coast dungeon. Gyasi follows their lives and that of their progeny through two hundred years of deep, abiding love, and horrific, unspeakable loss.

Each emotionally resonant chapter gives voice to a new member of these women's lineage, toggling back and forth between those who remained in Africa and those who moved from plantations in the south, through emancipation, and the great migration to New York and Chicago.

Gyasi illuminates life in Africa for her readers, the tribal culture that honors its elderly yet succumbs to dangerous, hurtful superstitions, the village that cares for each member yet has trouble accepting those with lighter skin. At the same time we see the United States with its shameful history. We watch as a young woman, Marjorie, much like Ms. Gyasi, tries to fathom the difference between being African in this country and being African American.

Nominated by author Ta-Nehisi Coates for the National Book Foundation's Five Under Thirty-five honor, Ms. Gyasi has a bright future ahead of her. I would be shocked if her novel isn't optioned for film, but it's more of her writing I hope to see. "Homegoing" will be a hard act to follow.