Before the Fall by Noah Hawley

May 31, 2017 |

A private plane carrying eleven people crashes in the Atlantic. The only two survivors are Scott Burroughs, a mostly has-been painter, and a four year old boy, the son of a Rupert Murdoch-type media mogul named David Bateman who founded an analog of Fox News. Burroughs swam the several miles to shore while towing the boy and as a result is now a celebrity of sorts. But his celebrity status is wholly unwelcome, as he’s hounded by reporters and his every move is monitored. Soon, perhaps inevitably, he’s targeted by a “journalist” who works at the right-wing television station and begins to insinuate that Burroughs had something to do with the crash.

Before the Fall follows each of the victims of the plane crash in the years, months, and days preceding the accident. They include each member of the Bateman family (David, his wife, his nine year old daughter, his four year old son), the Batemans’ bodyguard, their friends the Kiplings, Burroughs, and the plane’s crew. Each person had an interesting life, in the way the old British saying “May you live in interesting times” is often interpreted to be a curse. The Batemans’ young daughter was kidnapped (and recovered) as a toddler, the Kiplings were being investigated for money laundering, one of the flight attendants was being routinely harassed, and so on. It’s in illuminating each of their lives that Hawley’s writing shines. I was initially concerned that his depiction of Maggie Bateman, David’s wife, would be the blueprint for how he wrote about all the women in the story (Maggie as a young woman gave up a career as a schoolteacher somewhat reluctantly after marrying David and now all her thoughts are consumed by her children), but I was relieved that this was not the case. The women in the story, as well as the men, are varied, with unique experiences, thought processes, and personalities. Hawley (and the audiobook narrator Robert Petkoff) excel at getting readers deep into their characters’ minds, and reading about their lives only compounds the tragedy of their deaths.

When he’s not chronicling what happened before the fall, Hawley’s story follows Burroughs after the fall, including the way he deals with the reporter hounding him and slandering him on air. This storyline in particular is hugely satisfying and didn’t play out the way I anticipated. Hawley deftly skewers Fox News and its talking heads (Bill O’Reilly comes to mind as a timely analog for the reporter who targets Burroughs here) and highlights the way certain media outlets fabricate the news instead of reporting it. There’s also the added wrinkle of the incredible amount of money the young boy has just inherited, and the book includes a small but fascinating subplot about the boy’s aunt and her husband under whose care he is now placed.

Readers may be disappointed by the ending; the reason for the plane crash is simple and involves only a couple of people out of the many that Hawley’s book follows. This is a very television-esque kind of way to tell a story, and Hawley, who currently writes for tv series Fargo and Legion, is very good at telling it. So even if you’re a fan of novels where all the disparate threads join together into one satisfying tapestry at the end, you’ll likely still be riveted by Hawley’s story, which does precisely the opposite. Perhaps that is the point. People lead complicated, messy lives, and often, their deaths are without purpose. For most of the people on the plane, the crash really was just a tragedy – they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and their lives had nothing to do with their deaths.

This is a good pick for readers who enjoy character-driven, rather than plot-driven, thrillers.

As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales From the Making of the Princess Bride by Cary Elwes with Joe Layden

November 16, 2016 |

Do you need something happy and palate-cleansing to temporarily take your mind off the shithole that our country is descending into? Are you a fan of The Princess Bride? If your answer to both of those questions is yes, and I’m assuming it will be for most of our readers, allow me to recommend As You Wish, an excellent audiobook by Cary Elwes (with some help from Joe Layden) about the making of The Princess Bride, full of fun little stories and a huge heaping of love for everyone involved.

If you’re at all like me, it can be a bit of a bummer to learn that some of the actors or writers or creators involved in a piece of art you love actually hated each other. We want the actors to be as charming and kind as the characters they portray; we want their on-screen friendships to be mimicked behind the scenes. There’s nothing to fear about The Princess Bride in this regard – according to Elwes, Rob Reiner was the kindest of directors, Robin Wright was the most talented and beautiful of co-stars, and Andre the Giant’s stature matched his heart. In fact, everyone got along so well and the movie they made was so magical, many of them remember it as the best movie-making experience of their entire careers.

Elwes takes his listeners on a journey from the time he was cast as Westley to the movie’s release and the cast reunion 25 years later. Other actors and people involved voice their own parts as well, including Rob Reiner, William Goldman (referred to as Bill by Elwes), Robin Wright, Wallace Shawn, Billy Crystal (calling in by phone), Christopher Guest, and Chris Sarandon. Hearing this chorus of voices really does an excellent job of bringing the listener right back into the world of the movie, and I highly recommend you listen to this on audio because of it.

We learn that Elwes, on Andre the Giant’s urging, took Andre’s ATV out for an ill-advised spin and broke his toe, which is why you can see him limping a bit as he and Buttercup race into the Fire Swamp. There’s an amusing story about one of the stuntmen who portrayed a rodent of unusual size, and Wallace Shawn talks about his enduring fear that he could never measure up to Danny DeVito, whom the producers initially wanted for Vizzini (Reiner is quick to reassure us that Shawn was always the top pick and did a perfect job). Billy Crystal and Carol Kane’s improv skills are lauded, and Elwes talks about how difficult it was not to laugh while he was supposed to be mostly dead at Miracle Max’s. There’s nothing hugely revelatory in any of these little stories, and that’s kind of the point, I think. Everyone got along and they all remain friends. The film was a joy to make, and they produced something they’re proud of and that endures. Elwes portrays the film’s making as we all hoped it was: just like the film itself.

The Passion of Dolssa by Julie Berry

May 25, 2016 |

I described Julie Berry’s newest, The Passion of Dolssa, as “a slow burn of a book” on Goodreads. I wasn’t fully engaged initially, but by the end, I was totally immersed, and I can’t put my finger on exactly when that happened – it just happened slowly, over the course of this multilayered, character-driven, wholly unique novel.

It’s 1241 in Provensa (now called Provence, an area in France), and the people are still reeling from the Albigensian Crusade, one of those crusades ordered by the Pope where people killed their own countrymen in the name of God. It was a way to not only cleanse the area of heretics, but also to seize land and grow wealth (which Berry and her characters point out was often the true goal). The Albigensian Crusade ended in 1229, but “heretics” are still burned and the people still live in fear.

Into this fraught environment comes Dolssa, a gentlewoman and mystic who has a personal, almost romantic relationship with Jesus, whom she called her beloved. She’s a teenager who speaks frequently of her beloved to those around her. She’s revered by those who receive her message, and she’s believed to have worked miracles. She eventually catches the attention of church leadership, who aren’t about to allow a woman to hold such religious power. Dolssa is labeled a heretic and sentenced to death, along with her mother. Her mother dies, but Dolssa escapes (thanks to what she believes is the assistance of her beloved) to the town of Bajas in Provensa, where she’s taken in and protected by Botille and her two sisters, who run a pub.

Most of the story is told from Botille’s perspective, though we also get large sections from Dolssa and the obsessed friar pursuing her. There are also occasional snippets from people the friar interviews along the way. The whole book is a frame story, bookended by another friar who is reading about the incident (the story is meant to be the testimony of Botille and the other characters) and feels uneasy about it. Tacked on to the end is a note from the “author,” a modern-day scholar who claims to have found these papers and assembled them; she adds an epilogue that is haunting and will give you chills.

When I read about a book that people describe as “character-driven,” I often find that it’s code for “plotless” and therefore boring. Not so in this case. These people are fascinating and funny and I would love to be friends with so many of them. Botille’s voice is a treat. I listened to the audio version, so I mean that in two ways (Jayne Entwhistle reads Botille’s sections). She’s snarky and hands out as much shit as she’s given (and as a young woman in 13th century France, she’s given a lot). She’s a loyal friend and sister, always does what she thinks is right, and works hard. She’s an entrepreneur too – a lot of the humor in the story is derived from her matchmaking, which she makes a good amount of money from. And she’s good at it! She has a knack for knowing whose personalities will match in the long run, despite her tender years. She loves without judgment, too, most notably her drunk stepfather (her mother died some time ago) who can’t take care of himself or any of the girls but is seen as no less of a person worthy of care. His speech near the end of the book is one of the most moving – you might cry. In fact, there’s remarkably little judgment on the part of most of the characters in Bajas, who are fiercely religious and rally to protect Dolssa when it becomes clear that she does miraculous things and is being hunted because of it.

At times, the book has a magical realism feel, but I wouldn’t categorize it as such, nor would I call it religious fiction. The miracles that Dolssa performs are viewed in the context of the characters, who completely believe that she can do wondrous things – and Dolssa herself believes she can as well, working through her beloved, and that she has an obligation to do so. Berry writes about these miracles in such a way that the reader is free to decide if Jesus intervened or did not – and ultimately, it doesn’t matter what the reader decides. What matters is that the characters believe it, and that’s what propels the story.

Berry sprinkles her novel with lots of Old Provencal, the language spoken by her characters. It’s a little jarring to hear at first. To me it sounded like the audiobook narrator was badly butchering French words. But that’s not the case at all, and the meanings of the words are obvious in context (and probably faster to pick up in print). It’s just another way that Berry adds a feeling of authenticity to her story, making the reader feel as if she’s fallen into another time and place entirely.

Often when I read historical fiction, I find that books fall into one of two camps: the language and behavior of the characters has been modernized so much that they no longer feel historical; or the language and behavior feel so alien that it’s impossible to really understand the characters and their motivations. There’s a fine line that must be walked, and Berry is a master of it here. The beliefs of the people in Provensa, and Dolssa’s beliefs in particular, are not modern. Yet Berry does such a good job of getting us inside their heads that we understand these beliefs and how they lead to actions that we would never take ourselves in our 21st century context. These characters feel like inhabitants of another world, but they also feel immediate and real.

Berry’s author’s note at the end is a must-read, but it won’t completely quench your thirst for more. This is one of those novels where I immediately went to the internet to read more about this time and place, and I’m still curious and thinking about it weeks later. I feel as if my knowledge of real people who lived then has been expanded, and that my understanding of humankind in general has been enhanced as well.

I always yearned for more medieval-era historical fiction when I was a teen, in the vein of Catherine Called Birdy but for older readers. Not that this is a readalike (the tone and subject matter are very different), but teens who want to read more about the Middle Ages after having their interest piqued by Birdy and others should definitely seek this out. It’s also a great pick for historical fiction fans tired of the same eras being written about over and over again (World War II, the Renaissance), and for any thoughtful teen who wants to fall completely into another time, place, and way of life.

The Warrior, the Lover, and the Cultist: Three Brief Reviews

August 5, 2015 |

With the increased flexibility at my new job, I’ve had a lot more free time in the afternoons, which means I’ve been reading a lot more. In fact, over the past week, I’ve finished six whole books, which is quite a lot for me (and I’m well on my way to finishing the seventh, which would average a book a day). Aside from dedicating my newfound afternoon time to reading, I’ve also deliberately been eclectic in what I pick up. Two of those books have been romances, two of them graphic novels (one a memoir and one fiction), and two of them YA (a cult story and a thriller).

The Divine by Asaf Hanuka, Tomer Hanuka, and Boaz Lavie
The art in this – done by twins Asaf and Tomer Hanuka – is gorgeous, with really rich colors. The story it helps tell, though, isn’t well-crafted. It aims to be a sort of mish-mash of modern war story and ancient magic, but it comes off as kind of half-baked. It’s ostensibly about child soldiers in Thailand (the story takes place in a fictional Asian country called Quanlom), but I only knew that because of the creators’ afterword, which is a good deal more resonant than their story. The protagonist is kind of dull, his best friend is a caricature, and the central conflict about two twin Quanlom kids committing acts of violence for their country (helped along by some magical powers) never gels into anything meaningful. I wish I liked this one better; it’s a fine purchase for adult collections (for the art especially), but a bit of a letdown overall.

The Earl’s Mistress by Liz Carlyle
I read a lot of historical romance, and I enjoy pretty equally books that are on the tame side as well as those that are rather spicy. This one is definitely on the spicy side. It may be the spiciest historical romance I’ve yet read, which is saying something. Isabella Aldridge goes to interview for the position of governess with the Earl of Hepplewood, and he turns her down, but offers her a different role instead, which you can guess by the title of the book. He’s kind of skeezy in the beginning, and the book gives off a bit of a Fifty Shades vibe, though the earl isn’t really tortured like Christian is supposed to be. He gets better later in the story, and this isn’t the only historical romance guilty of making its hero a little too unlikeable at the beginning. The developing affection between the two leads is done well, though. The narration by Carolyn Morris is good and the book was enjoyable enough despite its flaws – I checked out a few others by Carlyle on its merits.

The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly by Stephanie Oakes
Kelly reviewed this one not too long ago, which made me want to read it myself. So now you have two people (at least) telling you that it’s absolutely worth a read. I normally shy away from stories set primarily in prison, but this one wasn’t all about fights and how awful prison life is (which just makes me feel sad). It was a very personal story about Minnow and how she comes to terms with what happened with the cult and what she did to land herself in the detention center (refreshingly, she actually did do what she was convicted of doing, which we learn straight off). Minnow emerges at the end of the story a much stronger person with a stronger voice and a better understanding of what she wants from her life. What really made this story stand out for me, though, was the writing. I read a lot of YA books with fairly straightforward writing styles, good for much of the fast-paced action-oriented stories I enjoy. It was nice to read a book by an author who clearly enjoys playing with language – and is good at it – for a change.

Books received from the publisher, except for the Carlyle, which I borrowed from the library.

Audio Review: Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer

June 9, 2015 |

I mentioned that Under the Banner of Heaven was next on my list after reading a couple of memoirs by Carolyn Jessop, who escaped the FLDS. Krakauer’s book focuses on the murders of Brenda Lafferty and her infant daughter Erica in 1984 by her brothers-in-law Ron and Dan Lafferty. The Lafferty brothers were not members of the FLDS, but they subscribed to many similar fundamentalist Mormon views, most notably polygamy (aka “celestial marriage”). For a period of time, they were involved with a group called the Crossfield School of Prophets, but mostly they acted separately from any recognized religion or cult. Ron soon came to believe that God told him to kill Brenda, whom he believed was responsible for his own wife leaving him.

While Krakauer’s investigation of the double murder is the central part of the book, the whole scope is actually quite broad. His intention was to explore “violent faith” as it occurs in fundamentalist Mormons. He chose Mormonism for this exploration because he grew up around a large Mormon population, though he was not Mormon himself. He writes about this in the last chapter of the book, and it’s strongly implied that the conclusions he draws about the origins of Mormon extremism are applicable to other faiths.

To get to those origins, Krakauer takes us on a long journey through Mormonism’s history. The modern, mainstream Mormon church vociferously distances itself from people like the Laffertys and the FLDS, but the seeds of the fundamentalist sects were planted in their shared history. Krakauer writes about Joseph Smith, the Mountain Meadows massacre, Brigham Young, the many violent clashes between Mormons and non-Mormons before the trek to Utah, the introduction of polygamy to the religion and its eventual abandonment of the practice due to pressure from the federal government (and its subsequent acceptance into the mainstream American culture). He brings up the point that because Mormonism is so new and came of age in the modern era, it’s subjected to a great deal of scrutiny, and its skeletons are harder to hide. Consequently, I knew about much of this before I read the book, but I still found Krakauer’s exploration of the personalities behind Mormonism’s founding immensely interesting. What draws me to nonfiction about cults (and religions in general) is my desire to understand what makes people believe what they do, especially when such beliefs are not widely accepted. Krakauer write at length about Smith and Young and their magnetic appeal, as well as the appeal of the messages they spread.

Krakauer also touches on a variety of Mormon fundamentalist offshoots, including the FLDS and the School of Prophets. He writes briefly about the Elizabeth Smart kidnapping as well, and his interest seems to be not just the organized Mormon fundamentalist cults like the FLDS, but also how mainstream Mormons’ beliefs give way to individual fundamentalist beliefs, such as was the case with the Laffertys.

Krakauer talked at length with Ron Lafferty, who is in prison serving a life sentence (his brother Dan was executed). He’s quoted in the book frequently, and his account of the murders and the “revelation” he received from God are disturbing. I normally stay away from true crime because of this, and I can’t say I enjoyed the details of Ron’s acts, but what he revealed to Krakauer about his thought process and the development of his religious beliefs (which have changed in radical ways since he went to prison) was fascinating. I also found myself picturing what it would be like to be in Krakauer’s shoes, sitting across from Ron as he talked about his crimes.

This was published in 2003, four years before Carolyn Jessop wrote her memoir Escape. It was interesting to read the snippets of FLDS history with the knowledge of what Jessop would write about a few years later and the raid on the YFZ ranch that would soon follow. I wonder how Krakauer’s own book would have changed if it were written after these events (though the FLDS is not the focus).

Krakauer narrates the book himself, and he’s well-suited to it. He infuses a lot of personality into it, and he’s got a few unique mannerisms that I found interesting. Often when he’s quoting someone (Ron in particular, but also others not involved in violent acts, but merely witnesses to it), he’ll emphasize consonants. He’ll draw out the first “n” in anything and the “t” in pretty (as in “pretty much”). Sometimes it makes the dialogue come across as slightly mocking (very effective for Dan), sometimes just musical – it’s got a rhythm to it that is often missing from audiobooks narrated by their authors.

If you’re interested in the subject matter, I highly recommend this one.

Audiobook borrowed from my local library.