“Parade’s End”, by Ford Madox Ford

 

906 pages, BBC Books, ISBN-13: 978-1849904933

Officially, this omnibus edition of Parade’s End by Ford Maddox Ford is a companion piece to the BBC’s 2012 adaptation of his original tetralogy (how’s that for a 5¢ word); that’s Benedict Cumberbatch, Rebecca Hall and Adelaide Clemens on the cover. The four books consists of Some Do Not… (1924), No More Parades (1925), A Man Could Stand Up – (1926) and Last Post (1928). Ford, born Joseph Leopold Ford Hermann Madox Hueffer, started writing under this…interesting pen name in 1919 because, in his, words, “a Teutonic name is in these days disagreeable”, and in order to fulfil the terms of a small legacy; it was also useful to avoid lawsuits from his wife, Elsie, in the event of his new companion, Stella, becoming the next Mrs. Hueffer (she didn’t). Incidentally, he also taught at Michigan’s Olivet College for a time in the 1930s. Cool, right?

So anyway, Parade’s End follows one Christopher Tietjens, “the last Tory”, a brilliant government statistician from a wealthy landowning family, before, during and after World War I; the novels are set principally in England and on the Western Front of the First World War, in which Ford had served as an officer in the Welch Regiment, a life he vividly depicts in the books. Two other characters (among so many others) are central to the story, one being Sylvia Tietjens, née Satterthwaite, his promiscuous and self-centered socialite wife who married Christopher knowing that she was already pregnant (possibly by another man), and the freethinking, suffragette and pacifist Valentine Wannop who is torn between idealism for her causes and her attraction to Christopher, even as she disdains all that he stands for.

Ford allows each of his characters to describe themselves through their inner monologues – and brother, can these people talk. The stream of verbiage, both in their heads and out of their mouths, is virtually non-stop as they make observations about themselves, their companions, the world at large – I mean, everything. Not that any of it is poorly written; each character’s personality shines through in their self-revealing soliloquies. But I often found myself putting the book down just to catch my breath. Unique among war novels of the time, Tietjens’ consciousness takes primacy over the war it filters, as Ford created a protagonist for whom the war is but one layer of his life, and not always even the most prominent, even though he is in the middle of it. And his insight into himself and the world about him is there for all to see on the page.

Ford attempted to situate this grand world-wide cataclysm within an English societal situation, showing how both high and low were irrevocably changed, both before and after the war. We see how the upper classes didn’t (as far as I could tell) seem to be much affected, with many coming off as insufferable gossips and hypocrites with their poor judgment concerning the war being quite appalling; the returning veterans of the lower orders, meanwhile, are shown as having been discounted by their “betters” to the point of being unwelcome bothers. I have read elsewhere that this is a “Modernist” book, but I read no Joyce or Proust in these lines: the plot is clear and straightforward, and while Joyce’s stream of consciousness is ungrammatical and hard to follow, Ford’s is anything but as his characters blossom as they speak.

I thought that Parade’s End had a rather lyrical quality to it, to say nothing of melancholic – well, how could it not, seeing as it is a record of how European civilization committed mass-suicide between 1914 and 1918, only to have a series of dark phoenixes of unimaginable evil and cruelty arise from its ashes. But while the Big Picture problems of politics, philosophy, faith and so on are important, Ford reminds us of the little people who fought and suffered so that these deep thoughts could survive or, just as likely, die. It is a long book, and the dense floridity of speech can be off-putting and even intimidating at times. But stick to it, Dear Reader, for by the time you reach the conclusion of Parade’s End you will have taken part in the resurrection of a dead world and been present as it is buried all over again. Triumphant and tragic – the human condition.

“A Tolkien Bestiary”, by David Day

 

287 pages, Gramercy Books, ISBN-13: 978-0753704592

I cannot remember a time when the works of J.R.R. Tolkien where with me in one form or another. The Rankin/Bass adaptation of The Hobbit was a mainstay of my childhood, while other adaptations also hold a special place for me. I especially remember calendars and posters featuring the work of the Brothers Hildebrandt – that would be Greg and Tim Hildebrandt from Detroit, Michigan. WHOOP! – strewn about our house, and seeing the Ralph Bakshi version of The Lord of the Rings in the theater. Yessiree, the 1970s was a Golden Age for All Things Tolkien until the coming of the aughts and the Peter Jackson bonanzas. But one thing that slipped through the cracks was the brilliant A Tolkien Bestiary by David Day, and man am I ever glad that I found this masterpiece of late 70s Tolkienmania.

What we have here is Day’s interpretation of many of the living creatures, races, flora and fauna in Tolkien’s Middle-Earth and Undying Lands, both in full color and black and white illustrations. The operative word is “interpretation”, for Day – via the text of the book – includes his own extrapolated “facts” alongside data which is canon without always distinguishing what is his and what is Tolkien’s. Furthermore, while the entries are generally factually correct, the emphasis is not. One example will suffice: Beren is listed as a “shapeshifter”, which is true overall as far as it goes, for while he did in fact transform into Draugluin for a time (the sire of all Werewolves of Beleriand; but then you knew that), that was due to Luthien’s magic, not an inherent ability of Beren, which is implied in this bestiary.

The book is written in the style of medieval bestiaries, which accounts for the archaic, sometimes too-cute verbiage found throughout. Also, while Day is a wee bit more imaginative then he should be in some of his entries, it is untrue that his interpretations are indistinguishable from Tolkien’s, as events from Tolkien’s tales are specifically referenced to the books from which they are quoted to back up his scholarship. If he says “so-and-so happened in such-and-such a book” then you can be sure that it happened as he says it did. Embellishments tend to be made clear, from the lack of reference to a specific work. So, while Day’s additional scholarship is viewed by many Tolkienophiles as a betrayal of the master, I see it as an addendum to the original work that adds to our knowledge of these fictitious creatures.

But it is the illustrations that steal the show. Maybe I’m talking out of my hat here, but each of these glorious color and black-and-white illustrations is a microcosm of 1970s art and style. I can’t be more accurate than that, but looking at each picture transported me back to the age of disco, gas lines and malaise economics. But also, each is a beautiful piece of art in its own right, worthy interpretations of Tolkien’s words brought to life, as it were. After completing this volume I have determined to hunt down more of Day’s books and see what other great work he has interpreted and made real, if only in a limited fashion. If you find yourself unable to forgive the man for his creativity in interpreting Tolkien’s written lore, you can at least marvel at his creativity in visualizing that written lore in his own inimitable fashion.

A Tolkien Bestiary is a grand addition to anyone’s Tolkien library, with the proviso that some of the writing is not Tolkien’s; but the art is second to none and the sign of a truly gifted craftsman who loves the lore he was given to work with.

“Ella Minnow Pea”, by Mark Dunn

 

208 pages, Anchor Books, ISBN-13: 978-0385722438

One of my compadre’s in the bookclubs I ran gave me Mark Dunn’s Ella Minnow Pea with a glowing recommendation, so, seeing as I don’t turn down free stuff, I took it, and read it…and loved it. So here’s the deal: Ella Minnow Pea takes place on the fictional island of Nollop, a 63-mile autonomous island nation 21-miles off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina, and named for its founder, Nevin Nollop. A statue to Nollop can be found in the main square of the capitol with a pangram (that’s a phrase, sentence or verse that uses all of the letters of the alphabet) created by the same, namely: “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog”.

Throughout the book, these letters begin falling from the statue and, as each one does so, the island’s totalitarian government bans the contained letter’s use from written or spoken communication, seeing these fallen letters as a sign from Nollop that he has forbidden their usage. To guarantee enforcement, a penalty system is enacted for using the forbidden letters: a first offence is public censure, a second offence is old-fashioned stocks or a public lashing (violator’s choice) while a third offence calls for banishment from the island nation, while any who refuse banishment are summarily executed, instead.

All of this unfolds through letters or notes between various characters, especially Ella Minnow Pea, our main protagonist. The book is described as being “progressively lipogrammatic”, for as the story proceeds, more and more letters of the alphabet fall from the statue and thus excluded from each character’s writing, forcing them to spell words more phonetically or creatively which requires more and more effort to interpret just what in hell they are saying. The hoops in which Dunn, through his characters, jumps through in order to write this thing was a truly entertaining, to say nothing of impressive, feat of imagination.

When I was first told the premise of the book I thought that Ella Minnow Pea would be an absurdist comedy in which people were forced to bend over backwards in order to express the simplest thought. But I was only a few pages in when I saw what a powerful statement Ella Minnow Pea was regarding the freedom of expression. Also, I could not for the life of me discern just where Dunn sits on the political spectrum (well, the council’s deference to superstition is kind of a giveaway). Which was a good thing, seeing as the defense of language and everyone’s right to use it shouldn’t be a partisan issue anyway – although I fear it has become just that.

I was surprised to learn that this book was originally published in 2001, for its lessons are just as relevant today as then – indeed, its lessons are timeless. Liberty is in the ability to say, write and read what you want; government stifling the speech of one threatens the liberty of all. The superstitious element is important too, as the tumbling tiles are perceived as a message sent by Nollop, but the council has no true evidence that this is so. One thinks of religious laws being passed to protect the righteous and the Almighty, but the definition of either is fluid, for there are righteous atheists who seek to silence those who protest their draconian defense of Almighty Gaia.

Read Ella Minnow Pea for its full-throated promotion of free speech and the need to defend it against anyone – ANYONE – who would take it away.

“The Mighty 8th at War: The Missions, the Aircraft, the Full Story Told by the Men Who Were There”, by Chris McNab

 

320 pages, Elephant Books, ISBN-13: 978-1435164802

$2.83. That’s what The Mighty 8^th at War: The Missions, the Aircraft, the Full Story Told by the Men Who Were There by Chris McNab cost me at Barnes & Noble. A mere $2.83 from off their clearance rack and with my membership discount. Can’t go wrong, amiright? So what we have here is one of those enormous, glossy behemoths of a book that is full of pictures and information regarding the American 8^th Air Force in World War II, arguably the greatest strategic air formation in history. Just ask a Yank if you don’t believe me. Between activation in 1942 and the end of the war, The Mighty 8^th rained down destruction from the stratosphere upon the denizens of the Third Reich, laying waste to the industrial, military and transportation infrastructure of Nazi Germany, while U.S. fighters took on their counterparts in twisting dogfights. Good stuff all around. But at a cost, for the American insistence on round-the-clock bombing resulted in high attrition rates for their crews and planes during daylight hours (the average life expectancy for a bomber aircrew dropped to only six missions by 1943).

But still the Mighty 8^th continued to bomb and break the effectiveness of Hitler’s empire, even if such raids were deemed to be ineffective by later historians studying the results. But no matter. What we have with The Mighty 8^th at War is a collection not only of the planes that fought in the European theater of war but, more importantly, a gathering of the thoughts of the men that flew them. From five miles over the surface of the Earth the men of the Mighty 8^th did their duty, and McNab brings their voices together and allows the Greatest Generation to speak for themselves.  Whether B-17 bombardiers making the final bomb run through near-impenetrable flak, to P-51 Mustangs strafing enemy locomotives, the tales told by these men cover every aspect of the operational and human drama as they fought to bring down a monster and his regime. And we mustn’t forget the pictures, as this book has over 600 of the things to illustrate just what is under discussion. The Mighty 8^th at War is an excellent addition to anyone’s war library – and if you can get it for $2.83, so much the better.

“Sharp Objects”, by Gillian Flynn

254 pages, Broadway Books, ISBN-13: 978-0307341556

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn must be all the rage where I’m at because I had to reserve a copy – one of eight in the system – and compel someone or other to return it just so I could read the damn thing. But I’m glad that I did. Anyway, another entry in my Mysteries & Munchies bookclub, Sharp Objects finds reporter Camille Preaker, fresh off a brief stay at a psych hospital (for reasons that become clear), sent home to Wind Gap, Missouri, by her editor to cover the murders of two preteen girls. All but estranged from her hypochondriac, neurotic mother and 13-year-old half-sister – who has a kind of eerie grip on the town – she finds herself identifying with the young victims and dives back into her own murky past.

This is one of those books that is as much a character study as it is a mystery; indeed, often it is more so. Oh, there is plenty of that in the book, as Camille investigates and tries to write her story, questions a plethora of suspects and townsfolks, interrogates the local constabulary and generally acts like a reporter. But it is as much a delve into the psyche of our protagonist, a study on how a place can affect and stay with us through our lives, how families are both blessings and burdens (often more one than the other) and how the past is with us always. It is so much more than a mystery (in retrospect, this could just as easily have been an entry in my Books on Tap bookclub, seeing all of the themes that are explored).

A good story must have strong characters, and Camille Preaker fits the bill – but not in the way you may think. She is intelligent and tenacious and dedicated to uncovering the truth and writing her story – but she is also a deeply flawed woman and brimming with contradictions and subject to bouts of weakness as powerful as her drive to see her task completed. She is, in a word, human. And it takes a writer of uncommon honesty to write a character known as much for her flaws as her strengths, who could just as easily fail as succeed because of who she is. As one who is fed up with female characters who can do no wrong, it was refreshing to read about one who screws up as much as she triumphs.

The mystery behind Sharp Objects was, if I may be so ‘umble, rather easy to solve (about hallway through, to be exact) until I read the last chapter and Epilogue, and – I mean, damn; shoulda seen it coming. But one reads a book like this as much for the characterizations and the atmosphere as for the mystery. It rather put me in mind of Stephen King’s IT – bear with me here – in that it was a horror story, yes, but also a tribute to King’s childhood in the 60s and those summers that you never wanted to end. Sharp Objects is a mystery in which the murder and disfigurement of two young girls opens up a whole world most would like to keep hidden – but that is pried open by the sharp objects of our psyches which we can never blunt.

“Blood for Blood”, by Ryan Graudin

 

496 pages, Little, Brown, ISBN-13: 978-0316405157

Hey, remember reading my review of Wolf by Wolf by Ryan Graudin last month? And remember me saying that there was a second book in the series that I thought I’d tackle, seeing as I got them both from the Shelby Public library for $1.50 for the pair? Well, here it is: Blood for Blood continues and completes the story began in Wolf by Wolf, beginning as it does exactly where the prior book ended, in which Yael (remember, its pronounced Yah-ell) finds herself on the run after her botched assassination attempt on Der Führer in Tokyo and racing back to Germania – with Luka and Felix in tow – in the hope of aiding the long-simmering resistance in finishing Hitler off before the Nazis can overpower them all. Thus, Blood for Blood has the feel of not being a proper sequel but merely the continuation of the story, as if the publisher didn’t want to shell out all that money for a 1000+ page book.

Without the structure of the race in Wolf by Wolf, the novel is rather less focused, as much of the action takes place off-screen, if you will, what with the resistance rising and implementing their decade-old plans. But this is alright, as it is the character motivations amongst the big three – Yael, Luka and Felix – that are the focus here. Each of them are more complex than at first blush, with the boys getting almost as much page-time as our heroine. More than just paper-thin good little Nazis, the boys are fleshed out through a series of short chapters that provide snapshots of how both of them (and Yael) were affected by certain historical events, especially the first assassination attempt against Hitler. With the focus off of Yael, this both expands the focus of the book while also personalizing it, as we see change come to this nightmarish, Nazi-run world, for while big events occur they are caused by little people.

It would appear that Graudin has written a duology and that we must say farewell to Yael, Luka and Felix (although there is a novella, Iron to Iron, at the back that stars Luka. DON’T skip it). Blood for Blood was a good continuation of Wolf by Wolf (I won’t call it a sequel) and I, for one, was satisfied with the tale of Yael and company – and all for $1.50.

“Sex with Kings: 500 Years of Adultery, Power, Rivalry, and Revenge”, by Eleanor Herman

 

 

320 pages, William Morrow, ISBN-13: 978-0060585440

 

Well, that’s a title that will grab anyone’s attention. Sex with Kings: 500 Years of Adultery, Power, Rivalry, and Revenge by Eleanor Herman is a study of the European phenomenon of the official Royal Mistress – the maîtresse-en-titre as the French would have it (naturally) – and how these women influenced their royal masters. A clear-eyed and unromantic view of this…institution, Herman shows how the idea of an “official” mistress came about (to be distinguished from royal flings with this duchess or that chambermaid), what power was wielded, how they came and went, what the other women or the mistresses’ husband’s in the royal lives thought about it all (not that it really mattered), and so on. What is, perhaps, most interesting about this book is that, despite its topic, it is rarely salacious; oh, Herman talks about sex, alright, but it is the interaction of all of the various factions that interests her more, the interpersonal relationships that were formed and strained by all of those royal libidos. While the physical is never far away, it is the emotional and intellectual aspects of mistresshood that is being studied here.

While most mistresses were beautiful, not all were, and I think, if I may be so ‘umble, this says something about the Male species. While men are so often dismissed by members of the gentler sex as walking sex addicts, the fact that so many of the royal mistresses described within this book were plain – if not downright ugly – but possessing other virtues says something about My Boys. Some were brilliant conversationalists who could declaim on any number of topics. Some were excellent artists, musicians or poets who could entertain their royal lovers in any number of (nonsexual) ways. Some were artisans who planted gardens, decorated rooms or even designed whole palaces for their masters. But what they all were were companions who provided a sanctuary from royal duties, the pressures of government, their (sometimes) termagant wives and ungrateful children, or a true family atmosphere that they had never known. Most royal marriages were dynastic unions in which love did not and was not expected to exist, so if a king could find love outside of such a union then they did so (Queens? Not so much).

Speaking of which, as to what their relative queens thought of all this royal screwing is brought to light, but I, for one, think this is relatively straightforward. Just as many a king was not in love with his queen, seeing as these marriages were political acts, so many a queen was not in love with her king, either. I rather think that these queens liked the idea of a mistress to distract from the royal pillowing and leave her alone. Take Alexandra of Denmark, wife of Edward VII, who bore the king six children. On his deathbed, she allowed his mistresses to visit him, an act of which Society approved and which I was always perplexed by; I mean, why honor the women with whom your husband betrayed you with? Until you get a look at her husband: fat, squat, with bulging eyes and always reeking of booze and tobacco, Alexandra must have taken the time to thank these women for letting Bertie climb top them rather than her. As for why they let him, well, every man will tell you that a fat wallet compensates for a lot; Bertie may have thought these women wanted him for himself when all they were doing was chasing money and power. Sorry, Bert.

Luckily, in this instance at least, we know what was going on through the mind of Alexandra Caroline Marie Charlotte Louise Julia Glücksburg Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. When she was at last alone with her comatose king and Sir Francis Laking, Physician-in-Ordinary to King Edward VII, she spoke for many a Queen through the centuries:

…I would have done anything he asked of me. Twelve years ago, when I was so angry about Lady Warwick [Frances Evelyn “Daisy” Greville, Countess of Warwick], and the King expostulated with me and said I should get him into the divorce court, I told him once and for all that he might have all the women he wished, and I would not say a word; and I have done everything since that he desired me to do about them. He was the whole of my life and, now he is dead, nothing matters.

Or, while viewing the body of the King with Lord Esher, Alexandra spoke for many a wronged wife who makes a kind of peace with a philandering husband: “After all, he always loved me best”.

Sex with Kings was enlightening and entertaining and was much more than its title suggests. And it also displays, without outright stating so, why a Republic is so much better than a monarchy: while we may be stuck with an addlebrained, dimwitted, corrupt and idiotic President for a few years, for a kingdom it could be decades before such a fool at last shuffles off this mortal coil, costing his subjects an inordinate amount of money and inflicting who knows how much damage on the body politic.