Last summer, Boston gangster James “Whitey” Bulger—number two on the
FBI's Most Wanted list, right behind Osama Bin Laden—was finally
caught after 16 years on the lam and a criminal career stretching
back to the 1940s. In Betrayal, the FBI agent who spent years
building the case against Bulger tells his own story. Bulger, who
eventually had 43 murders to his credit, was an informant for the
Bureau, and Fitzpatrick wanted to “close” him—end his protected
status. The book revolves around the strained relations between the
FBI, local police, politicians, and criminals. Informants like
Bulger were allowed to continue their criminal activities so long as
they provided valuable information to the FBI. And the Bureau agents
who handled them received promotions. These vested interests
resulted in Bulger delivering intelligence that didn't really help,
and his FBI handlers passing off other informants' good intel as
Bulger's. Corruption and deceit flowed in both directions, and, in
their efforts to cover all bases, the highest levels of the Bureau
frequently routed information back to criminals. As he tells his
tale, Fitzpatrick also flashes back to other experiences in his
career, like racing the rifle used to assassinate Martin Luther
King, Jr. from Memphis to the FBI's fingerprint analysis lab in D.C.
The South Boston setting, complete with wiseguys sporting nicknames
like “The Animal” and “Cadillac,” make comparisons to Martin
Scorsese's The Departed or Ben Affleck's The Town
inevitable, and, indeed, fans of those films will relish this look
inside the Irish Mafia. But Fitzpatrick also takes the time to delve
into his own psyche, revealing how his isolated childhood shaped him
into someone who modeled his life on a idealistic vision of FBI
agents gleaned from radio dramas, thus producing a relentless agent
for justice.
Lincoln, above all other US presidents—even George
Washington—continues to have an active afterlife in our popular
imagination. It's he who appeared in an episode of the original
Star Trek that centered on the conflict between good and evil.
It's he who is the subject of best-selling biographies, novels, and
analyses; and who is cited by both conservatives and liberals to
support their policies. Hogan surveys how Lincoln is “sold”
(presented to the public) in seven different venues: merchandizing
($300 for the autograph of the son of Lincoln's druggist, $3.4
million for a signed Lincoln letter), packaging his reputation as
mythic, in fiction, for ideological spin, in education, as
represented in museums, and what our view of Lincoln tells us about
ourselves. This book isn't necessarily for Lincoln fans, as it's not
interested in the man himself so much as how he is perceived by
history. Specifically, Hogan is interested in how Lincoln is a
barometer of our shifting tastes and fascinations. The earliest
biographies, for instance, painted Lincoln as a flawless hero. Over
time the marble was chipped away to reveal a more conflicted man and
politician, and today's authors go so far as to speculate about his
mental state and sexual orientation. While this book is not
particularly academic in tone, Hogan makes excellent use of charts
to present how often certain themes, anecdotes, or individuals are
referenced in books about Lincoln, as well as the racial and gender
makeup of visitors to the various memorials.
Television personality, and host of The Nerdist Podcast, Hardwick
sets out to help nerds “leverage” those qualities that make them
nerds (obsession with the minutiae of a subject and the ability to
focus like a laser on that subject) into success in real life. Not
just getting “paid and laid,” but also getting healthy and happy. A
Nederist is artist nerd: one who creates, be that as a writer,
painter, or video game designer. Hardwick feels that the Internet
and culture in general make this the perfect time for nerds to stop
merely consuming the things that interest them and to start
producing. If nerds can shift their laser-like focus to their own
lives, they can become “evil geniuses,” but in a good way: highly
motivated, goal-oriented, and willing to transform.
Lest anyone unfamiliar with Hardwick's podcast (a perennial iTunes
top-download and one of my personal favorites) doubt his nerd cred,
in the first few pages he uses “quantum” correctly and refers to a
particular icon simply as “The Doctor.” He also details how he went
to from underemployed, overweight, and alcoholic to successful,
healthy, and sober. Readers are in the hands of someone who truly
knows what he's talking about.
Using nerd-friendly metaphors like graph paper and dungeon-designing
to create a flow chart of what you want to achieve and the steps
involved, Hardwick painlessly eases readers into taking charge in
three areas: mind, body, and time. The nerd love of control can
manifest itself dangerously: video games result in a false sense of
achievement (you control a universe), and “never striving for better
in life is a way to control your outcomes: If you don't try, you
can't be rejected.” Drawing on his experiences as a stand-up comic,
Hardwick gives his readers permission to try and to fail—a key
ingredient in any form of success. Exercise and proper nutrition is
never a fun thing to start, but Hardwick thinks of them as an
investment in the future, insurance that your old age won't be
decrepit. He offers a few basic exercises and generally accepted
dietary advice like avoiding empty carbs. Time is our most valuable
asset, and Hardwick advises tracking and scheduling it in a manner
that is sure to appeal to the obsessive nature in his readers: “Be
scientific with your life . . . Measure, process, experiment,
measure again, keep working until desired results are achieved.” A
fun read that anyone can benefit from, made more bearable by
Hardwick’s sense of humor and nerd-centric POV.
Territory
reimagines 1880s Tombstone, Arizona—including the Earps, Doc
Holliday, the McLaurys, the Clantons, and other historical
figures—with an underpinning of dark magic. Jesse Fox arrives in the
summer of 1881 as the events that lead to the Gunfight at the O.K.
Corral are starting to simmer (the famous shootout does not happen
in this first of a two-book series). Fox has magic, but remains
skeptical even as his friend Chow Lung tells him of the black magic
already at play in Tombstone. Fox meets aspiring writer Mildred
Benjamin, a widow who works as a typesetter at the Nugget
newspaper. Fox, Chow, and Benjamin are soon caught up in the brewing
storm between rustlers and the town’s lawmen, and both Fox and
Benjamin are forced to admit the supernatural powers at work around
them.
What
makes Territory so engaging is the subtlety of the fantasy
elements. Bull steeps the story in the gritty reality of the West,
in dusty streets and wide-open country, the stark separation between
male and female society, and the threat of frontier justice about to
burst like a storm cloud. It’s a slow burn story, and there’s more
gunplay than spells, which makes the scenes of magic that much more
dramatic.
Bull
sprinkles in just enough magic to put a fresh spin on the alliances
and grudges involved, while also illuminating the female characters,
the wives of the men doing the shooting. It’s a well-balanced tale,
which manages to feel historically authentic even as it develops its
magical elements. Highly recommended.
There was a strange ripple in the atmosphere, as if a chill wind had
just blown through the house.
The ripple in question is lingering radiation from the assembly of a
nuclear bomb in New York City. And with that, Gideon’s Corpse,
the superb new catastrophe thriller by Doug Preston and Lincoln
Child, is off to a blistering, bracing start.
Catastrophe indeed. A mysterious terrorist cell, it seems, has
every intention of detonating the bomb in an American city in ten
days time. So with the clock ticking toward doomsday, Preston and
Child’s latest hero, Gideon Crew races to fit all the complex pieces
of the puzzle together and stop what some deem already
inevitable.
Gideon’s Corpse is without question the finest “nuclear” thriller in
decades, harking back to the seminal The Fifth Horseman and,
even before that, 1962’s Fail-Safe. It reads like the
television show 24 at its very best and succeeds as both a
quintessential thriller and powerful character study of a tortured
soul, the lone gunman taken to new heights with Gideon Crew. Even
Jack Bauer would be proud.
1980s pop culture nostalgia reaches its inevitable conclusion in
Cline's book: it becomes the MacGuffin that drives the story. Set
in the year 2044, this clever novel paints a picture of a burnt-out
earth where most of the population spends their time immersed in the
virtual universe of OASIS. Years earlier, the creator of OASIS,
James Halliday, died, leaving its ownership and $240 billion to
whoever found the ultimate “Easter egg”—buried somewhere on one of
the system's worlds. Halliday had grown up in the 80s, so finding
the clues that will lead to the egg depend on one's knowledge of
that era's video games, movies, television, and music; with a
special emphasis on the geek aspects. High school student Wade Watts
is one of the millions who study Family Ties, Donkey Kong,
and They Might Be Giants while searching for the keys. While those
readers who themselves grew up in that time period will enjoy the
flashes of recognition (I saw Blade Runner! I listened to
DEVO!), there are times when Cline is a little heavy-handed. The
same page where there are references to Starlog, Ladyhawke,
and the Ewok TV movies ends with someone saying, “Don't call me
Shirley.” (If none of those ring a bell, this is definitely not the
book for you.) The novel will particularly appeal to readers who
were gamers. Ready Player One sends Wade through a giant
Dungeons and Dragons quest by way of a John Hughes movie, complete
with an evil corporation out to steal his knowledge and a smart girl
as his competition / comrade / love interest.
In Heller's social and political satire, president William Taft
mysteriously vanished on the last day of his administration in 1913,
only to reappear outside the White House in November of 2011. As a
former president, he's assigned a secret service detail and a
pension, and allowed to go his way. Taft just wants to get to know
his great-granddaughter, Ohio congresswoman Rachel Taft, and put
behind him his most-lasting legacy: the fact that he was so fat that
he once got stuck in a bathtub. But it isn't long before the cult of
political personality turns him into celebrity. Hipsters can sport
false Taft mustaches, and the Internet buzzes with Taft sightings.
He goes on a Fox News-style talk show. Desperate for anything
different, grassroots “Tafties” spring up, and there is soon a
“Draft Taft” movement for the 2012 election. There’s the usual
fish-out-of-water scenario with Taft trying to figure out how Google
and Twitter work, but on the whole he adapts well. He finds that
Twinkies are fantastic and that politics really haven't changed over
the century. Taft was an anti-monopoly “trust-buster” during his
first administration, and he doesn't approve of today's huge
multinational corporations—especially ones that produce lousy food.
With his classical blend of conservatism and progressivism, he just
may be the perfect candidate for our divisive era. Taft 2012
is a quick, amusing, and timely read.
With that text message, sent anonymously to private investigator
Wyatt Hunt, John Lescroart’s latest thriller The Hunter races
off to a blistering start and never lets up for a page or a second.
The adopted Hunt, you see, never bothered to look into the lives and
histories of his birthparents. But receiving that mysterious text
sends him on a quest that quickly reveals not only was his
biological mother murdered, but that his biological father was the
prime suspect.
Two mistrials later, his father vanished leaving a mystery left for
Hunt to solve and that’s where The Hunter truly excels
creating an intensely personal stake in the action that makes the
book resonate with a vitality seldom seen in thrillers but typical
of the wondrous Lescroart. Known more for courtroom thrillers, this
time out he steers the action away from the halls of justice in
favor of the angst and pain that comes with Hunt digging into his
own past—investigating himself, so to speak. The result, not
surprisingly, is not pretty. Known for leaving no stone unturned in
past books, Hunt learns there are some better left in place.
The result is a tour de force of pacing, melodrama, and revelation
that hits like a swift punch to the gut. If you’re hunting for a
great book, your quest ends here.
Today, if you are going to write a Sherlock Holmes novel, it had
better be perfect. The world has had nearly a century of bad
pastiches; there is no excuse for making the same mistakes of
earlier generations. Go Holmes or go home. Fortunately, Horowitz has
mastered the Master, and his book is first-rate. He delivers
everything that readers want from a Holmes tale, and then some.
First off, any story that claims to be from the “box at Cox,” had
better truly be “a story for which the world is not yet prepared”.
The House of Silk is that, while still keeping the adventure
firmly grounded in Victorian realities. There are no vampires or
aliens, only the human cruelties of the era. We see the poverty of
the urchins who make up the Baker Street Irregulars and the
insidiousness of the then-legal opium den culture. This distance
allows Horowitz, while still delivering a flawless Watson voice, to
have Watson go beyond his usual observations into deeper thoughts –
the sort that a man with Watson's sense of honor must have had.
These thoughts would not have been appropriate for late-Victorian
readers, but we future generations are prepared. The story starts
with a robbery and murder that lead to an apparently unrelated
upper-class family problem that soon escalates into a vast
conspiracy that even Sherlock's brother Mycroft is hesitant to
investigate. Through devilish plot twists and turns, Holmes remains
brilliant, even under the most trying of situations; Watson is a
strong, active presence, not merely a note-taker; and Horowitz even
liberates Inspector Lestrad from his unfair reputation as the
bumbler of the Basil Rathbone films. Note: the audiobook version,
performed by actor Derek Jacobi, is also one of the year's best.
Herc (so nicknamed because at age six, he opened a jar of pickles
that had defeated all the adults in the room) is the son of a
fictional man who strongly resembles Dr. Phil. This man has just
passed away, and the first scene of the book takes place at his
funeral. Dozens of people stand up to eulogize Herc’s father,
calling him a hero, a saint—even a god. Finally, it is Herc’s turn
to speak: "He was an ass. My father was a complete and total ass."
As the reader soon discovers, this was very much the case.
12 Things
is a rare find: a funny, edgy book written at a middle school
reading level, but clearly intended for high school students. At
only 121 small pages and some chapters only a paragraph long, it
almost reads like a longish prose poem, and is a perfect suggestion
for struggling readers. Herc is a likable, relatable narrator, who
combines teen angst and alienation with self-awareness and humor.
Readers will wish they could spend more time with him. Profanity
and non-explicit sex make this book appropriate for grades 9 and up.
Lucky Linderman has been beaten up--and has had other, much worse
things done to him--constantly bully since he was seven years old.
Nobody does anything about it for reasons that aren't completely
clear, but seem mostly to have to do with the fact that the bully's
father is an attorney. Lucky’s father, according to Lucky, is a
turtle--always locked in his shell. And his mom is a squid, spending
all her time doing laps in the pool. The relative he relates to the
most is his grandfather, who has been MIA in Vietnam since before
Lucky's dad was born. Lucky has dreams about rescuing his
grandfather from the jungle almost every night, and on waking, often
finds evidence that the dreams may somehow be connected to reality.
While this brutal story of bullying and the realities of war can be
hard to read, Scott leavens her story with compassion for her
characters and believable rays of hope. Readers who find high
school a miserable and soul-crushing place will relate to Lucky’s
travails.
