The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism

 Tim Alberta starts  The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory on the worst day of his life. While he was being interviewed on the Christian Broadcasting Network about his prior book, American Carnage, his father dropped dead. Dick Alberta was an evangelical pastor and as Tim stands in the funeral receiving line with his brothers, parishioners - people who have literally known Tim all his life - take the opportunity to berate him for criticizing Rush Limbaugh. This, and a nasty letter sent after Tim's eulogy calls out the politicization of religion, inspired his next book. It's a bit more of an insider's view of evangelicalism's takeover by right wing politics than Kristen du Mez's Jesus and John Wayne and it's clear that Alberta holds a deep Christian faith. While he discusses religious figures like Jerry Fallwell Sr. (more interested in power) and Jr. (more interested in money) who don't follow the path, he focuses on ministers and theologians who are being pushed out because they don't preach right-wing politics. Their story has been neglected, and Alberta also points out that the loudest, most prejudiced voices often belong to people who are also doing many of the congregation's good works. However, I don't believe that they're as small of a minority as Alberta states (or perhaps wants to believe). If they truly were only a "vocal" 15-20% of their sects, could they have so completely taken over their churches?

Secrets of the Nile

 Secrets of the Nile finds Lady Emily and her husband Colin in Egypt, along with his mother and Katharina, his daughter from a prior relationship. This time, it's not business but an invitation from the elder Mrs. Hargraves's former suitor. At the first dinner Lord Bertram Deeley gives for his odd assembly of guests, the host promptly dies - poisoned by his daily tisane. Of course, everyone has a motive to kill him and questionable clues point to the least likely suspects. Tasha Alexander provides a well supported but surprising solution, although I found it to be a bit of a letdown. She also includes a parallel story, one of a woman sculptor in Ancient Egypt and her conflict with her sister-in-law which was interesting but didn't tie in with the main plot as Alexander's other parallel stories have in the past. Overall, Secrets of the Nile was entertaining but a middling entry in the series.

The Turn of Midnight

 Minnette Walters couldn't have known. She published The Last Hours in 2017 and Turn of Midnight in 201. How could she have known that in 2020, shortly after I read her novel of plague survival, that COVID-19 would shut down the world? Normally, I would have read The Turn of Midnight shortly after The Last Hours but in March of 2020 I didn't have the concentration tor had any book, let alone one about a plague. The two books fit together so well, though, that I recommend reading them back to back.

The Turn of Midnight begins immediately after The Last Hours Develish has survived the plague and men are approaching. It's not an invasion, but Thaddeus Thurkill and the five youths who've been scouting for signs of life returning with sheep taken from an abandoned village. On their next trip, they're set upon by a local lord and his men. Somehow, after the boys kill his men ant Thaddeus humiliates him, the lord agrees to return to Develish where he sees the wisdom of Lady Anne's ways. He returns to is manor, with the late Sir Richard's steward Hugh (the only person who opposes Lady Anne's ways) while Thaddeus masquerades as a lord and Anne's kinsman and the five young men as his retinue, searching for Lady Eleanor's abandoned dowry and signs of life.

 Eventually, Thaddeus and his retinue reach a manor where Hugh has told the steward that "Lord Athelstan" is actually a bastard serf named Thaddeus, turning the final third of the book into a combination of conspiracy and courtroom drama. Thaddeus's calmness, Lady Anne's intelligence, the sigils of both their retinues, and Walters's deft writing provide a believable and satisfying conclusion.

The Tetris Effect

 I've spent far too much time playing Tetris and related games. Why is such a simple game so addictive that as an undergrad, I'd give my roommate my disc to hide (yes, that's how we played in the early 90s) during finals so I wouldn't get distracted. Dan Ackerman doesn't explain Tetris's appeal (there probably isn't an explanation), but he tells the parallel stories of Soviet Alexey Pajitnov and Dutch-American Henk Rogers, the programmers who created and marketed the program. Pajitnov became fascinated with math games and pentaminos when he was a teenager recovering from knee and ankle injuries and a few years later, using the outdated computers in his Iron Curtain workplace, turned that interest into an addictive computer game. Rogers first encountered computers as a high school student in New York City and, through several detours, ended up as a game publisher in Japan.  When he came across Tetris, no one expected him to be the person to bring legal copies to the West but through a combination of charm, tenacity, and inroads into the Russian Go playing community, he brokered a deal between Pajitnov's bosses and Nintendo. The rest is history - Tetris conquered the world, Pajitnov was able to take credit (and royalties) once the Iron Curtain fell, and Rogers ran the Tetris licensing company until he retired and his daughter took over. 

While the details are interesting, the basic story is pretty much as I expected, with one exception. Researchers are looking at Tetris as a way to fight PTSD. The theory is that if someone who has been exposed to trauma can play Tetris for an hour or so during the critical 24-48 hour memory formation period, it may blunt the severity of the damage. After years of joking that Tetris is good for teaching how to load a dishwasher or fill a freezer, it turns out that it may have a vital role in society.

Prequel: An American Fight Against Facism

A few months ago, I was in an online political discussion. Someone brought up how unified we were during WWII to which I said, "Except for those who used the black market, turned in neighbors, attacked those who didn't support the war..." It didn't go over well. I wonder whether that person has read Prequel? Based on Rachel Maddow's podcast Ultra, Prequel dives into the isolationist fascist movement of the 1930s which culminated in two failed trials. It's an important topic, but I'm not quite sure how I feel about the book. The first 2/3 introduced characters and threads which didn't completely come together in the trial-based final portion. Maddow has an engaging style, but Prequel didn't engage me as well as Bag Man did. Maybe the podcast was better.

The Last White Rose

 In her author's note, Alison Weir says historical records tell us what happened but don't show the conversations or personalities. Weir is both a biographer and novelist and The Last White Rose is the fiction companion to her biography of Elizabeth of York.

We first meet Elizabeth as a 5 year old feeing into sanctuary during the Wars of the Roses. Her father, Edward IV, eventually triumphs and she, her mother, two sisters, and the newborn heir return to their life of luxury. Bessy adores her splendid father, but as she approaches her tenses he sees him age prematurely. She also watches as relations with her favorite uncle, Richard of Gloucester, decline.

When she was 17, the family once gain returns to sanctuary. Edward IV is dead and Richard has taken Edward V hostage before usurping the throne and allegedly killing his two nephews. Bessy finds herself her family's backbone, caring for her sisters and trying to temper the conspiracy-tinged rants of her mother. Here, I think Weir could have shown a better transition from the calm regal queen to the paranoid captive. We don't see the Queen's point of view, so maybe she was a bit suspicious from the start but it's a bit jarring. During this captivity, Bessy still hopes to marry Henry Tudor but willingly accepts the advances of her uncle Richard whose queen is dying of tuberculosis. Simultaneously, she plots with Lord Stanley, Henry's stepfather, to help with Henry's invasion. Richard and Henry meet on Bosworth and Henry becomes Henry VII.

Henry's claim tot he throne was tenuous, but he won his crown on the battlefield so it shouldn't matter. Still, his marriage to the heir of the Yorkist King should, ,in the dowager queen's eyes, make them co-regnants. Henry disagrees and Bessy, more concerned with bearing and supervising the upbringing of their children, doesn't object. What does vex her is Henry's parsimony and (warranted) suspicions. He's challenged by two pretenders and a feeble minded cousin of Bessy's and she can't agree with his imprisonment of her feeble minded relative. She objects, but cannot act.

Still, their marriage is happy and Bessy loves her children...except, perhaps, Arthur. She regrets her inability to bond with him - when he was a premature infant, frail child, or a boy installed in a distant palace. She questions whether he's healthy enough to marry Catherine of Aragon, and henry admits that perhaps he two should live apart after consummating the marriage. That act, which years later led to the Great Matter, most likely never happened and Arthur dies of tuberculosis a few months later. And his mother mourns.

Arthur's death leaves the succession less secure. Elizabeth's prior pregnancy had been difficult, but she and Henry decide to have another child. in giving birth to her seventh child, a girl named Katherine who died soon after, Elizabeth sealed her fate. As she hemorrhages and dies, she sees the faces of her loved ones who died before her. Weir uses this trope in most of her novels and it's effective if wearing a bit thin. Other than that, The Last White Rose effectively fleshes out the frame of Elizabeth of York

Katherine Howard: The Tragic Story of Henry VIII's Fifth Queen

 Katherine Howard died before she left her teens and lived in an era where even important women left little record. She wasn't an intellectual like her cousin Anne Boleyn, her successor katherine Parr, or Henry's first wife Catherine of Aragon. She didn't bear an heir like Jane Seymour or gracefully give way like Anne of Cleaves. All she did was make the obese, failing, aging Henry feel y young and virile and then be executed for treason. 

Josephine Wilkinson provides a bit of background. Katherine's father was a bit of a ne'er do well (or failure) and when her mother died, Katherine was sent to live with relatives and generally neglected. She technically received a proper education in household management and embroidery and was literate, but was also left to the predation of older men.

Her descent from the Duke of Norfolk got her a position as a Maid of Honor to Anne of Cleaves. Her beauty attracted Henry's eye. He didn't know she'd ben molested - could her inability to conceive be due to damage or infection from one of her predators? (Personally, I think the problem was with Henry since Katherine Parr also didn't conceive during their marriage. By this point, Henry likely had type 2 diabetes and/or congestive heart failure, either of which would have impacted his fertility.)

Would producing a Duke of York have saved Katherine? Maybe, but her friendship with Thomas Culpepper (whether consummated or not) led court factions to inspect her earlier encounters. That would have cast doubt on the parentage of any child she bore. Katherine Howard was doomed from the start.

Mr. Churchill's Secretary

I love used books. Besides seeing how cover art and typefaces have changed over the years, they're a good way to find new authors and series. They're cheaper so I'm likely to take a chance, and sometimes I start a series that already has several installments. I took a chance on Susan Elia MacNeal and bought the first two books in her Maggie Hope series. The chance paid off - Mr. Churchill's Secretary was a fun, fast-paced read.

Mathematician Maggie Hope first traveled to London to sell her grandmother's house so she could pay her graduate tuition at MIT. Unfortunately, the house was a decaying Victorian pile so she stayed in London, fixing up the house and supporting herself through tutoring and renting rooms to friends. Once Britain entered WWII, she realized she wanted to stay. 

A few months into the war, Maggie's friend David calls her. David is an intelligence analyst (a job Maggie interviewed for but did not get because they hire men from the 'right' schools, not women with mathematical abilities). One of Churchill's typists has been murdered and they need a replacement. Maggie agrees to take the job and between taking dictation and typing speeches finds a hidden German code which links Maggie's story to the subplot involving a German sleeper agent who's in communication with a radical Irish separatist. These threads also connect to Maggie's search for information about her parents who died when she was a toddler. The last third of the book is a series of action scenes, revealed identities, and last minute rescues. While exciting, it did feel like the book could have ended multiple times. This, and the level of exposition needed to introduce a dozen characters (possibly necessary for a first book but still distracting) bring the book down a bit, but I enjoyed it and am looking forward to the next installment.

The Land Beyond the Sea

I love Sharon Kay Penman's sprawling novels which combine medieval politics with the love stories between intelligent and strong willed characters. She was meticulous in her research, but the dearth of personal history (and for women, even royal women, sparse records in general) gave her the freedom to create complex and believable personal interactions.

The Land Beyond the Sea refers to Jerusalem in the late 12th Century. The novel opens with Almaric rejecting his wife Agnes in order to succeed his brother as King of Jerusalem and barring her from contact with their two children. Almaric's reign is short and he's soon succeeded by his 13-year-old son Baldwin, known as the Leper King.

Today, leprosy is a treatable bacterial infection but 900 years ago, it was a certain death, so we know Baldwin's life will be short (he died at age 24) and Penman doesn't shy away from showing his physical decline. Intelligent and strong willed, he learns to fight left handed (his right arm experiencing the earliest nerve damage) and control horses with his legs alone and he surrounds himself with good advisors. Still, he knows that as he becomes more infirm his kingdom will dissolve into chaos. He's right, and I found the hundred or so pages after Baldwin's death to be less compelling than the story of his reign. Penman shifts focus to his stepmother Maria and her second husband Balian (the main romance in the novel) and her daughter/Baldwin's half-sister Isabella and their attempts to stabilize the kingdom. Without Baldwin there's no heart and Penman probably should have ended the book with his funeral.

Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law

 I love Mary Roach's books. She combines scientific reporting and respect for researchers and technicians with the sensibilities of the best 5th grade gross out humor. Fuzz:When Nature Breaks the Law covers killer trees, rampaging elephants, marauding bears (committing both property and personal crimes), thieving monkeys, Easter-disrupting gulls, and other wildlife disruptors. Always funny, Roach doesn't have quite as much room for humor with her non-human subjects (and to be honest, I'm not particularly interested in wildlife). Still, I laughed while I learned - or rather, laughed while my "stay away from wild things" attitude was confirmed.

The Dark Heart of Venice

 Looking back over my reviews, I see that I've been reading Tasha Alexander's Lady Emily books since 2010, and that they've been enjoyable but a bit uneven throughout the series. The Dark Heart of Florence is one of the lesser series entries - entertaining, but the main mystery is a bit obvious. It opens with Emily overhearing one of her husband Colin's fellow operatives suggesting that he and Emily go to Florence both so he can investigate a crime and to get away from an unknown threat. Once ensconced in his daughter's villa (inherited from her mother, another spy and Colin's long-ago lover), they find a dead body. Emily and her friend Cecile (a French woman of a certain age and with an interest in attractive, intelligent men) investigate both this crime and an apparent cypher written on the walls of the villa. As she's done with most of her books, Alexander also tells a story set further in the past - here, a woman who lived in the villa in the late Fifteenth Century. All three threads come together in a somewhat obvious and slightly forced conclusion. Enjoyable but not particularly memorable, The Dark Heart of Venus is worth reading for the atmosphere and for Cecile, but otherwise mediocre.

Lady in the Lake

Laura Lippman is a master at creating compelling but not quite likable protagonists and using shifting timelines and POV. Lady in the Lake utilizes these methods, but isn't quite as satisfying as her other novels. One night in 1968, Madeline Schwartz's husband invites a new tennis buddy to dinner - a local TV anchor with whom Madeline had one date in high school. That night inspires Maddy to leave her comfortable life and follow her teenage dream of becoming a reporter. Well, a housewife in her late 30s with no experience or degree isn't going to get a reporting job but she does manage to get hired as a columnist's assistant. From there, she branches out into investigating the murders of a local tween and of a woman whose body was found in a lake a few months earlier. 

On the surface, it's a standard historical mystery but Lippman focuses more on the characters than the mystery which makes for a interesting but somewhat disjointed novel wrapped around an unsatisfying mystery. After every chapter narrated by Maddy we get a chapter narrated by someone with whom she interacted - the columnist, the only woman on the paper's reporting staff, the African American cop with whom she's begun an affair, the woman who would become Tess Monaghan's mother, the murdered woman's young son - and occasional chapters from the dead woman's ghost. While interesting, it never quite flowed. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't quite up to Lippman's standards.

Real Lace

 Real Lace was not what I expected. It's by a social historian and I expected an explanation of how Irish Catholic immigrants rose in society as a group. Instead, it's the gossipy tale of a handful of intermarried families who created their own society because the established upper crust saw them as arrivistes. Birmingham doesn't do anything to dispute that; the Donnelleys  and Cuddihys and Butlers come across as stereotypes - brawling, charming drinkers who see no need to educate daughters (and educate sons only enough to advance in business). I was expecting something more along the lines of the late-1990s PBS series The Irish in America which focused on the broader diaspora who, rather than being in the society pages, went from laborers to professionals in two or three generations and by design rather than by chance.

The Bright Ages: A New History of Medieval Europe

 We've moved away from the traditional depiction of the early Middle Ages as a time of ignorance and brutality labeled the Dark Ages. Matthew Gabriele and David M. Perry's book gives an overview of how wrong the earlier interpretation was. The fall of the Roman Empire led to communication breakdowns but not to the loss of knowledge which continued to flourish all around the former Empire (just without the sort of coordination that previously existed). Cities like Ravenna were crossroads with polyglot and tolerant cultures and amazing works of art. Further north and west, the Vikings were nothing like their current image but were an adaptable group - conquering, farming, fishing, or acting as mercenaries according to what was called for, and as fastidious as was possible before indoor plumbing. The authors also show how the Islamic empire, which stretched into parts of Europe, continued to advance learning and was known even before the Crusades. The Bright Ages is a good primer on the era, well written and accessible.

American Carnage: On the Front Lines of the Republican Civil War and the Rise of President Trump

I've mentioned before that I prefer retrospective rather than current political analysis, and usually from historians rather than reporters. Reporters give the what; historians give the why and how and often paths to the future. Although he's a reporter, Tim Alberta's American Carnage: On the Front Lines of the Republican Civil War and the Rise of President Trump is a long view of the years from 2008 through 2018, understandably focusing on the time from the 2016 Presidential campaign onward. Looking back, I once again wondered whether Trump could have been stopped or whether he was inevitable. 

Alberta starts with the election President Obama and then moves to the election of the ungovernable and uninterested in governing Tea Party faction of the Republican party. Those chapters highlight the infighting among party factions and told the origin stories of current power players (as well as reminding us of once prominent rabble rousers who have faded into the background). Alberta picks immigration as a theme for this section of the book, showing how politicians on both sides of the aisle considered it an important issue even if they differed on the mechanics.

Once Donald Trump came on the scene, that went by the wayside. His anti-immigrant populism made any neutral let alone positive commentary on immigrants anathema. But when he came down the escalator in 2015, could anyone have imagined him not only becoming President but remaking an entire party in his bellicose and bigoted image? I'd like to say I had a hint (when he declared I was on a project with three guys who all thought he'd be a good president and wondering why anyone would be liberal...ignoring the fact that they were siting with a single, professional, graduate-educate, 40-something woman who chose to live inside a city), but I never thought it was likely. And that may have been the problem with his primary challengers. None of them thought he could possibly win and, combined with his unusual strategy, failed to cut him off. Alberta also mentions miscalculations by Hillary Clinton and her campaign, but doesn't mention misogyny as a potential contributory factor.

Once Trump was in the White House, the rest of the Republican party saw the hold he had on a pivotal segment of the population and (for the most part) cravenly became Trump supporters. We can say it started with white Evangelicals flocking to his campaign (attracted by power rather than theology as outlined in Kristen Du Mez's Jesus and John Wayne), but as Alberta points out in his epilogue, even politicians like Paul Ryan, who retired rather than continue working with Trump and who think of themselves as different, are forever branded as Trump Republicans.

Alberta's book ends in January 2019 and came out later that year so we don't see the impeachment trials, the electoral defeat, or the insurrection. Or the how Trump is inexplicably the front-runner in the 2024 primaries. And this is why, although I found Alberta's book interesting and thought-provoking, I still prefer a historian's view. He added the why and how to the what, but no hints as to how to fix the problem.