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Posts Tagged ‘Bernard Cornwell’

A couple weeks ago I noted on Facebook that I was temporarily abandoning the palace intrigue of Michael Wolff’s Fire and Fury for Robert Harris’ new novel Munich (Knopf Doubleday, digital galley). There I was met on the first page with this: “He had listened to it on the BBC as it was delivered. Metallic, remorseless, threatening, self-pitying, boastful. . . it had been punctuated by the thumps of Hitler’s hands on the podium and by the roar of fifteen thousand voices shouting their approval. The noise was inhuman, unearthly. It seemed to well up from some subterranean river and pour out of the loudspeaker.”

It’s September of 1938, and Hitler is threatening to invade Czechoslovakia. We know that he was dissuaded by British PM Neville Chamberlain at a last-minute meeting in Munich calling “for peace in our time.” Although this policy of appeasement didn’t sit well with many and only delayed World War II by not even a year, history acknowledges that the intervening months gave the Allies the crucial time to prepare for war. Knowing that Munich almost didn’t happen and the talks threatened to fall apart moment to moment doesn’t detract from Harris’ sleek and suspenseful narrative. Hugh Legat and Paul von Hartmann were friends together at Oxford. Now, Hugh is an aide with the British foreign office, and Paul, a German nationalist, is one of the civil servants and military officers plotting Hitler’s demise in Berlin. The two need to meet long enough in Munich for Paul to pass a message to British intelligence, but he is being watched by Hitler’s henchmen. Harris sustains the tension throughout, and his fictional characters have the solidity of the historical figures who come to life in the fast-moving pages.  A thriller of diplomacy and espionage, Munich’s a book for our times.

Seen from above, a garden maze is a miracle of symmetry and relatively easy to traverse. But when you’re in the maze, navigating the intricate loops proves more difficult. Oh, for a map! Gregory Blake Smith’s The Maze at Windermere is a miracle of symmetry from any perspective, an artfully constructed historical novel in which five stories are superimposed, one on top the other through time, in Newport, R.I. We begin in 2011, with a poor but handsome tennis pro romancing several women, one an heiress with cerebral palsy. In 1896, a closeted man-about-town woos a wealthy widow who owns the Windermere estate. Thirty years earlier, a young Henry James aspires to be a writer by observing Newport society. During the American Revolution, a manipulative British soldier plots to seduce the beautiful daughter of a Jewish merchant. And in 1692, a young Quaker woman feels she must marry after her father is lost at sea.

Smith nimbly braids these distinct narratives loosely at first, then tighter as the book progresses. Similar themes of race and class, love and money emerge and then converge. Past is prism and palimpsest. A familiarity with Henry James — Portrait of a Lady, The Wings of the Dove, The Heiress — deepens appreciation, but there’s nothing fusty or longwinded about The Maze at Windermere. Each character is true to his or her time and speaks accordingly. Still, it is the young James who seems to sum up their thoughts when he writes, “We each of us strive to understand who we are, why we are here, to love and be loved, and for all that striving, we are each of us lost in the mystery of our own heart.” I got lost in The Maze at Windermere and loved every page.

It’s been a good month for historical novels. One of my other favorites is Lucy Hughes-Hallett’s Peculiar Ground (Harper, review) which I reviewed for the Minneapolis StarTribune. (https://tinyurl.com/yc4mmrze). It’s the sprawling saga of a walled English estate depicted in gorgeous prose at specific points in the 17th century and then again in the 20th. In Fools and Mortals (Harper, digital galley), Bernard Cornwell takes a break from the Saxons and turns to Shakespeare, expertly evoking Elizabethan times. His adventure tale focuses on Shakespeare’s handsome younger brother Richard, an actor in Will’s troupe who is charged with retrieving the original script of A Midsummer’s Night Dream after it is stolen by a rival theatrical company. Enter complications pursued by hi-jinks. Seriously, it’s quite good. Rachel Rhys’ Dangerous Crossing (Atria, library hardcover)  pays homage to Agatha Christie as young Englishwoman Lily Shepherd, a former housemaid, books passage to Australia in the summer of 1939. There’s shipboard romance and intrigue as Lily’s fellow travelers include an amiable brother and sister with health issues, a Jewish schoolteacher who has fled her home in Vienna, a mysterious and wealthy American couple, an embittered spinster, a bullying bigot, a nervous mother and her teenage daughter, and a naive housemaid.  Lauren Willig’s a pro at romantic suspense, and sets her entertaining The English Wife (St. Martin’s Press, digital galley) in Gilded Age New York. Janie Van Duyvil uncovers family secrets when her older brother Bayard is murdered at a fancy dress ball and his English wife Annabelle disappears. A parallel narrative introduces readers to the music halls of London and a beautiful singer who calls herself George. Janie’s a shy, somewhat tiresome character in the beginning, but she finds confidence (and love) when a tabloid reporter joins her in a quest for answers.

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Happy birthday, Thor!

I’ve started calling my brother “Thor’’  since his genealogy research last fall showed us as belonging to the Thor line of Pates. No, it doesn’t mean we’re descended from Vikings (although we might be) but from a Thoroughgood Pate who lived in Virginia or North Carolina during the 1700s. Supposedly “Thoroughgood’’ was a right popular name during the Revolutionary War era, although I don’t know if it was from a surname or one of those Christian virtue names, like Prudence (a paternal great-grandmother) or Endeavour (the closely guarded first name of Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse).  I prefer “Thor.’’

Anyway, I sent Thor the first two novels in Bernard Cornwell’s Saxon Tales series, The Last Kingdom and The Pale Horsemen, set in the ninth and 10th centuries when King Alfred and his heirs were battling to keep Wessex from the Viking conquerors. Cornwell writes vigorous, well-researched historical fiction, and I thought my brother would like these because we both liked Cornwell’s Richard Sharpe novels and because of our probable if incredibly distant ties to the Saxons and Danes.

I haven’t read this series yet, which is unusual because I almost always read the books I’m giving as presents. And I love giving books to friends and relatives, which made my recent holiday shopping both easy and fun as I tried to match book to reader.

My mom and I mutually gave one another Sue Grafton’s ‘U’ is for Undertow; last year we shared P.D. James’ The Private Patient. An aunt who likes lighter fare received Mary Kay Andrews’ The Fixer-Upper with firm endorsements from my me, my mom and her daughters (the other two-thirds of Caroline Cousins.) They got Jeanette Walls’ novel about her remarkable grandmother, Half-Broke Horses, because I knew they’d like it and because we keep talking about writing something about our remarkable grandmother, Nanny Love.

I took a chance with my uncle who likes Westerns and has already read Larry McMurtry, Robert B. Parker and all the Zane Greys and Louis L’Amours. I picked for him Larry Watson’s memorable coming-of-age tale, Montana 1948, and quickly re-read it before wrapping it up. My college sophomore niece thought she would like Jennifer Weiner’s breezy Best Friends Forever, which I enjoyed last summer, and after my nephew in the Army told me he was re-reading free classics on his I-Phone, he got a  paperback of  The Hound of the Baskervilles along with the DVD of the movie starring Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes.

And then there was Lev Grossman’s The Magicians, which may have been my favorite book of last year, sort of a collegiate Harry Potter writ dark. I knew my longtime friend Laura would love it because we love the Narnia books and Tolkien and T.H. White and fairy tales, and of course, J.K. Rowling. “Wow, this guy must really know every fantasy book going,’’ she marveled this morning, promising to put Grossman’s The Codex on her reading list. My book-gifter heart was thrilled.

I think that’s it. My mom’s birthday was last week. I sent her flowers and promised to put the new Anne Tyler, Noah’s Compass, in the mail – just as soon as I’ve read it.

(Open Book: I bought all the books mentioned above except for Best Friends Forever (Simon & Schuster), which I received in a web giveaway from the publisher. I also have my own copies of the books I gave away, except for the Cornwells, which I hope Thor will lend me.)

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