Day 2,400 Quasi-Quarantine: Prehistoric Fiction Gets The Master's Touch In "The Inheritors"

 

“ … To-morrow was secure and the day after that so remote that no one would bother to think of it. Life was exquisitely allayed hunger.”

William Golding's second novel -- after the timeless "Lord of the Flies" -- documents the clash of cultures and values that takes place when Neanderthal meets homo sapiens.

"The Inheritors" follows Lok and Fa as they help a small tribe of Neanderthals try to survive under constant threat of fire, water, and hunger. When their unit meets the mysterious and more-developed horde of homo sapiens, heartbreak and misunderstanding ensue.

“‘There is no Ha. The Ha scent has ended.’”

“The other had tugged at the strings that bound him to Fa and Mal and Liku and the rest of the people. The strings were not the ornament of life but its substance. If they broke, a man would die. All at once he was hungry for someone's eyes to meet his and recognize him.”

While homo sapiens repeatedly demonstrates mastery of tools and higher-level intelligence, it is the Neanderthal that comes across as more sophisticated in terms of relationships, communication, and connection to the land.

“‘They are like the river and the fall, they are a people of the fall; nothing stands against them.’”

If you've read any of this blog, it's not much of a surprise that William Golding is one of my favorite authors. "Free Fall," "Pincher Martin," and "Lord of the Flies" are classics, and "The Inheritors" sits alongside those in terms of pure excellence. 

Can you imagine starting your career as a novelist with "Lord of the Flies" and "The Inheritors" as your first two books?! Golding was obviously under pressure to deliver a worthy follow-up to "Lord of the Flies" -- my favorite book of all time -- and did so by completing his first draft in a month ... despite him being a full-time teacher. On top of that, his children say that "The Inheritors" was his favorite among his novels.

“I am like a pool, he thought, some tide has filled me, the sand is swirling, the waters are obscured and strange things are creeping out of the cracks and crannies in my mind.”

Like many of Golding's books, this one explores the tension between capital-N "Nature" and human nature, and how the reverberations of that tension impact feelings of isolation and community. In "The Inheritors," the author delves into how the two tribes have gone from living with the land to trying to bend the land to your will in a single generation.

Golding does fascinating things with language and perspective as he embraces the challenge of documenting a species that didn't possess speech in the way we think of it. The result is occasional confusion in following certain events and exchanges ... but the payoff is a truly emotional and unforgettable example of prehistoric fiction.

“He peered forward past the sail to see what lay at the other end of the lake, but it was so long, and there was such a flashing from the water that he could not see if the line of darkness had an ending.”

Day 2,385, Quasi-Quarantine: Meticulous Research Of "The Guns Of August" Gives Me A WWI Education

“The muffled tongue of Big Ben tolled nine by the clock as the cortege left the palace, but on history’s clock it was sunset, and the sun of the old world was setting in a dying blaze of splendor never to be seen again.”

Barbara W. Tuchman's painstakingly assembled account of the first month of World War I is an absorbing read despite its hefty weight, both physically and emotionally. The author does a tremendous job of weaving a narrative amid horrific circumstances without shying away from questioning the character of certain leaders (Sir John French, in particular, suffers a withering depiction).

“They were twelve days in which world history wavered between two courses and the Germans came so close to victory that they reached out and touched it between the Aisne and the Marne.”

“No more distressing moment can ever face a British government than that which requires it to come to a hard and fast and specific decision.”

The character sketches are done carefully, though there are some unintentionally funny physical descriptions to keep you entertained if you're so inclined. Since "The Guns of August: The Outbreak of World War I" runs to well over 600 pages, you are likely to be so inclined.

“Erect and good-looking in a disciplined way, with straightforward eyes and a sensible mustache …” 

“A trim, well-set-up officer of sixty-one with a direct glance and energetic mustache turned up at the corners …”

If there are any quibbles, it is that the assassination of Franz Ferdinand as an inciting factor was given scant attention. A reader might also benefit from a glossary of the main characters, as it was difficult to keep all the leaders and military personnel straight.

“The impetus of existing plans is always stronger than the impulse to change.”

“If there has to be a choice between injustice and disorder, said Goethe, the German prefers injustice.”

Tuchman also carefully renders the reality that war during that era was largely about trying to find the enemy before miscommunication destroys any advantages you might have, knowingly or unknowingly. The result is an account worthy of the Pulitzer Price (awarded in 1963), as well a sad reminder of the brutal mistakes we continue to make despite repeated lessons.

“When every autumn people said it could not last through the winter, and when every spring there was still no end in sight, only the hope that out of it all some good would accrue to mankind kept men and nations fighting.”

Day 2,360, Quasi-Quarantine: Vietnam Vet Navigates Assimilation In The Wyoming Wilds In "Walk Me To The Distance"

 

“He was a murderer, and the major well of guilt in this was that he felt no remorse. He laughed softly to himself and shook his head. The most frightening element of it all was that, even with the grotesque image of the retarded man bound and dangling, the action was somehow beautiful.”

This Western-coded novel follows a Vietnam War veteran who tries to assimilate back to everyday life, settling in Wyoming after feeling ostracized in his home state of Georgia. The action is seen through Kevin's occasionally unreliable perspective, and some of the bizarre behavior and decision-making we witness passively could potentially be related to PTSD (we didn't have a name for this when the novel was written more than 40 years ago, which also somewhat explains much of the problematic language).

“He wondered if a man actively seeking to surrender could be captured.”

Kevin ends up living on a ranch with Sixbury, an elderly widow who cares for a son with intellectual disabilities named Patrick. As Kevin tries to navigate interpersonal dynamics, an abandoned child enters the equation, leading to a series of heart-breaking and traumatic events, some of which really sneak up on the reader.

“The doors were open, and there under the moonlight, David saw him. Patrick was fucking a sheep.”

With something of a fever-dream quality, sparse prose, and concepts of frontier justice, "Walk Me to the Distance" evokes Cormac McCarthy. While the work is indicative of a young novelist finding his footing (it's Percival Everett's second novel and a precursor to classics like "James" and "The Trees"), this short blazer of a book asks compelling questions about the meaning of family, sexuality, the assimilation of grief, and the the difference between society and individuality.

“As he drove home, he found himself oddly relaxed. It was an empty feeling, but not at all uncomfortable. He didn’t feel lost, though he couldn’t say just where he was. He didn’t feel stranded and he didn’t feel helpless. He didn’t feel anything and that was all right.”

Day 2,352, Quasi-Quarantine: Sprawling "Atonement" Documents Complicated Love Story Amid Backdrop Of False Accusations And World War II

“The problem these fifty-nine years has been this: how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God?”

Initially set in pastoral England in the 1930s, "Atonement" does a stellar job of blending timelines and backdrops. The action moves to France in World War II and eventually to 1999 London as the characters embrace challenges, emotions, and obstacles.

McEwan is a master at navigating an unreliable narrator and documenting the horrors of war, elegantly interspersing poignant interpersonal moments along the way. He places a stolen moment in the midst of generational and global conflict, studying its ripple effects and ramifications over decades.

“As long as he did not think of the edge, he would not go near it, and would not be tempted. He forced himself to remember the dullest things he knew–bootblack, an application form, a wet towel on his bedroom floor.”

“ … Beauty she had discovered, occupied a narrow band. Ugliness, on the other hand, had infinite variation.”

The author deftly moves between the timelines, avoiding a number of opportunities that could have disrupted the narrative.

If the introduction of the C-word jars the reader to attention early on, the book really finds its stride in part two, as we're thrust into the middle of a war, replete with heartbreaking and horrific scenes. The final section, "London 1999," beautifully completes the tale.

“His business was to survive, though he had forgotten why.”

The result is a 21st-century epic, as "Atonement" thrives in the complexities of human nature and finds hope in the bleakest circumstances.

“‘Do you love me?’

“She hesitated. ‘Yes.’ No other reply was possible. Besides, for that moment, she did. He was a lovely boy who was a long way from his family and he was about to die.”

Day 2,344, Quasi-Quarantine: Silicon Valley Vet Shares How To Navigate Aggressive Tech Landscape In "Build"

“The ultimate job of marketing is to find the very best way to tell the true story of your product.”

A comprehensive look at the confluence of ideas, people, and corporate politics, "Build" does a nice job of using concrete examples. Tony Fadell includes useful diagrams and anecdotes, never shying away from hard truths (a chapter on assholes is particularly insightful).

“As a manager, you should be focused on making sure the team is producing the best possible product. The outcome is your business. How the team reaches that outcome is the team’s business.”

Some of the concepts feel a little dated and tend to lose sight of work-life balance at times as he documents starting, building, and losing companies. Fadell also tends to focus on more, more, more, making portions of the book feel pretty finance bro-coded.

“To do great things, to really learn, you can’t shout suggestions from the rooftop then move on while someone else does the work. You have to get your hands dirty. You have to care about every step, lovingly craft every detail. You have to be there when it falls apart so you can put it back together.

“You have to actually do the job. You have to love the job.”

Overall, however, this is a fascinating and instructive read. At a seminal moment for the technology industry, "Build" serves best as a catalog of the questions we should be asking ourselves, one another, and our customers.

“What you're building never matters as much as who you’re building it with.”

Day 2,336, Quasi-Quarantine: "The Keeper" Serves As Perfunctory End To Trilogy Of Ex-Pat Ex-Cop In Ireland

 

“She looks like she popped out of Instagram by mistake and someone should put her back in before she gets smudged.”

In the finale of the Cal Hooper trilogy, the former Chicago cop finds himself embroiled yet again in an unlikely crime in rural Ireland. 

As part of a rather on-the-nose farmers-vs.-townies encounter, he helps unravel the mystery surrounding the death of a young women torn between her fiance and the village she loves.

While most of French's plots require some suspension of disbelief (see my review of "The Searcher"), this one felt even more difficult to entertain than most. The narrative wanders and the characters feel a little too one-dimensional, leading to a novel that ends up feeling like the conclusion of a trilogy that was proposed and wrapped up all in one motion.

“She says, ‘C’n Kate come for dinner as well?’

“Cal is hit by a sudden sense of wonder. ‘Sure,’ he says. ‘She like tacos?’”

Day 2,331, Quasi-Quarantine: Greek Bacchanal, Mysterious Professor, And Insular Clique Drive Uneven "The Secret History"

“I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.”

Elitism and accountability clash at a small liberal arts college in New England, as a group of impressionable students gravitate to an iconoclastic professor in Donna Tartt's first novel. The narrator, Richard, ends up there from California almost without agency, falling under the spell of his classmates and their teacher.

“After class, I wandered downstairs in a dream, my head spinning, but acutely, achingly conscious that I was alive and young on a beautiful day; the sky a deep deep painful blue, wind scattering the red and yellow leaves in a whirlwind of confetti.”

"The Secret History" often feels like a fever dream, with interiority being a challenge for the novel. Richard is often bullied, but he is also comes off as a bit of a fraud, which detracts from his reliability as a narrator.

“It was one of the reasons I loved him: for that flattering light in which he saw me, for the person I was when I was with him, for what it was he allowed me to be.”

The intense connections made between the characters can feel rushed and misunderstood. The dominant female character, Camilla, is granted little in the way of voice or autonomy, leaving her feelings about the events of the story unexamined.

As the action escalates out of control, a reader might wonder why Richard didn't just leave, especially as his place within the group feels unsecure and unnecessary. 

“He had never seen a gunshot wound. He kept asking what it felt like? dull or sharp? an ache or burn? My head was spinning and naturally I could give him no kind of coherent answer but I remember thinking dimly that it was sort of like the first time I got drunk, or slept with a girl; not quite what one expected, really, but once it happened one realized it couldn’t be any other way.”

As an unabashed fan of "The Goldfinch" -- the Scooties award winner in 2021 -- I was expecting a bit more from this work, but acknowledge that it may simply feature the growing pains of a new novelist. "The Secret History" is certainly absorbing, but some may be left with a sense of incompleteness and a wish that Tartt had spent a little more time exploring the interpersonal dynamics.

“Religious slurs, temper tantrums, insults, coercion, debt: all petty things, really, irritants–too minor, it would seem, to move five reasonable people to murder. But, if I dare say it, it wasn’t until I had helped to kill a man that I realized how elusive and complex an act a murder can actually be, and not necessarily attributable to one dramatic motive.”

Day 2,325, Quasi-Quarantine: Confusing Confluence Of Characters And Plots Mark Pynchon's "Shadow Ticket"

 

“The city had a long history of suicide, attracting pilgrims from all over the world seeking a Lourdes not of hope but of despair, assuming that suicide in Budapest, like love in Paris or greed in New York, would be somehow more authentic.”

A dizzying cast of characters and plots marks this late-career offering from Thomas Pynchon. "Shadow Ticket" is a hard-boiled noir detective novel that follows Hicks McTaggart as he spans the 1930s globe.

Much of the work feels tongue in cheek, as McTaggart tackles Fascist goons, the mob, and cheese syndicates amid the Depression and the looming specter of war. Pynchon nails the dialogue and the rapid-fire pacing, amping up the entertainment value.

“‘MPD says they’re on the case, some think it’s the Outfit, some say the Nazi Youth.’

‘Two different kinds of trouble, ain’t it, one you end up dead, the other dead and in hell.’”

However, "Shadow Ticket" feels like it's trying too hard at times, making for a dense, confusing read. Shifts in perspective, geography, and timelines can leave a reader searching for safe ground, but the myriad characters make it difficult to find it.

The result is a whirlwind of concepts and what-ifs, alongside an appreciation for the genre and the author that doesn't quite match the final product.

“ … While in the back at any moment might be standing in wait some hopeful kid, his own instrument bouncing back highlights, his face still in shadows he’s never felt at home in, as if, when the spot finds him at last, as he steps into the full light, he’ll turn out to be somebody we already think we know …”

Day 2,315, Quasi-Quarantine: Corruption And Ineptitude Still Manage To Shock In "The Cadaver King And The Country Dentist"

 

“‘The Mississippi system was run by the triumvirate for years,’ says one long-serving former coroner. ‘Imagine that. A pathologist, a small-town dentist, and a funeral director … The state provided an audience of adoring idiots.’”

In "The Cadaver King and the Country Dentist," Radley Balko and Tucker Carrington have painstakingly researched and compiled a searing indictment of the entire criminal justice system of the state of Mississippi and beyond. The idea that Steven Hayne, Michael West, and Forrest Allgood were never imprisoned -- or worse -- for their actions, is an absolute travesty. The fact that two of the three are already dead somehow isn't enough.

The reality that racism, politics, and ignorance are running amok in Mississippi won't surprise anyone with the ability to read. The sheer lack of repercussions might, despite our better instincts.

“Coroners were incompetent. State law at the time required just two qualifications for the job: candidates had to be registered to vote and ‘must never have denied the existence of a Supreme being.’”

While focusing on two specific cases of wrongful incarceration, the book unveils an entire system predicated on targeting those unable to defend themselves and the many individuals who both turned their backs on them and actively lied to end their lives as free persons.

Make no mistake: this is an infuriating read, perhaps made even more so by the fact that the work is a slow burn, with the feel of a textbook in many areas. However, the act of reading feels more essential now than ever, as the concepts of truth and accountability are constantly under siege.

“But I ain’t mad at any of them anymore. The system’s gonna do what the system’s gonna do.”

~Kennedy Brewer

Day 2,309, Quasi-Quarantine: "Red Sky In Morning" Details Cross-Globe Manhunt As Loss And Vengeance Compete

 

“Night sky was black and then there was blood, morning crack of light on the edge of the earth. The crimson spill sent the bright stars to fade, hills stepping out of shadow and clouds finding flash. First rain of day from a soundless sky and music it made of the land. The trees let slip the mantle of darkness, stretched themselves, fingers of leaves shivering in the breeze, red then goldening rays of light catching. The rain stopped and he heard the birds wake. They blinked and shook their heads and scattered song upon the sky. The land, old and tremulous, turned slowly towards the rising sun.”

Starting in the remote reaches of Ireland and ending up in early 19th-century America, "Red Sky in Morning" follows the journey of Coll Coyle as he navigates the balance between escaping and returning.

Coyle committed a rash, rage-spurred act of violence, triggering a manhunt and a headlong game of hide-and-seek with an almost supernaturally gifted tracker, James Faller. As the two tangle, Coyle finds support and resistance in the unlikeliest of places, all while never letting go of a desire to return to his homeland and his growing family.

“In the boy he recognized the face of his own child, saw the hands of his daughter testing the shapes of stones, heard the small bundle of her voice, and he turned towards the great void of the sea, his breath held in his chest and he looked out into the distance where time and movement seemed to hold still, where nothing seemed to happen at all, a void bereft of love and pain, a great wash of unmemory held in its ceaseless eternity.”

I've been mesmerized by some of Lynch's other works, with "Prophet Song" having won the Scooties in 2024 and "Beyond the Sea" being an early standout this year. 

In his debut, Lynch displays an affinity for Cormac McCarthy, both in his prose and his antagonist, Faller, who evokes the legendary Judge Holden from McCarthy's "Blood Meridian." Faller is prone to existential soliloquies that seemed designed to justify or obfuscate his pure evil.

“To be the last thing a man sees before he dies, Faller said. Nothing will make you feel more alive.

“It’s quite a moment, said Faller. To be the sole judge of that person on earth. You meet his eyes and there’s an understanding quite like no other.”

"Red Sky in Morning" shies away from nothing, exploring themes like incest, torture, cholera, and racism, with Lynch's rhythmic prose lending an aesthetic that clashes with and complements the material. Coyle's morbid stint in America as part of a dig in Pennsylvania is based on a true story, lending a deeper horror to the tale.

If there was a quibble, it would be that Lynch's decision to occasionally shift perspectives between characters can lead to some minor confusion. However, the overall work is sublime, with a clever effort by the author to have the opening and closing language mirror one another.

Lynch has gone on to become one of our most accomplished novelists, but it's refreshing to see the raw talent apparent in his origin story.

“Oh the small place left behind unfolding into a universe. His ear cocked to the absence of it.”

Day 2,287, Quasi-Quarantine: Understated Prose Dominates Elegant Short Stories Of "The News From Dublin"

“It struck her afterwards that what he did in those few years when he was a fighter pilot was merely an exaggerated version of what we all do as we live: we swagger, we are full of pretense there is no real danger coming towards us, we talk as though the enemy is in flight, or under control. As time moves, however, it drags us with it until the time for pretending ends and the body lies spent.”

~“The Journey to Galway”

The settings and chronologies vary in this collection of short stories from Colm Toibin, but the themes of isolation and identity are consistent. "The News from Dublin" is marked by the author's trademark sparse prose and quiet restraint, permeating these tales with hints of melancholy and desperation.

The standouts were the title story, a shattering look at the effects of tuberculosis; "The Journey to Galway," a stark and powerful commentary on loss and war; "Free Man," a compelling view of sexual abuse and identity; and "Five Bridges," a moving and contemporary exploration of immigration status in the age of ICE.

"Sleep," "A Sum of Money," and "Barton Springs" were promising, but felt incomplete, while "The Catalan Girls" was incredibly long in relation to the other stories. With the emotional abuse and neglect at its core, it was rather difficult to read.

Toibin captures the fraught nature of family dynamics, the role of perception in finding one's place in the world, and how nature and nurture can alter the path of any individual. "The News from Dublin" lays it all bare for the reader's consideration and enjoyment.

“ … He would not grow old or live to regret anything at all or be forgiven. Action had given him a strange freedom, as it must have done for others, an avoidance of having to deal with his own complexity. Death, on the other hand, would give him nothing at all. From now on, it would be all absence.”

~“The Journey to Galway”

Day 2,282, Quasi-Quarantine: A Teen Navigates Grief, Neglect, And Family Dissolution In South Jersey's "Ghost Town"

 

“Maybe all that stuff catches up to you in the end, the demons you think you’ve outrun, the bad memories you locked away in a metal box, and then you hid the box in a dark corner of the basement under a heap of dirty blankets, and then you moved far away and did your best to pretend you were someone else. But that box is always right there, right where you left it.”

When a mid-tier author is asked to speak at the dedication of a building in his father's name in the hometown he's estranged from, memories of grief and identity flood in. "Ghost Town" captures the wistful, melancholy nature of bittersweet recollection almost perfectly, interspersed with the summery vibes that permeate many coming-of-age stories.

“ … His mind empty, his body glowing with that peaceful, washed-out feeling you get after a really good day at the beach.”

This book was purchased during an anniversary-celebration trip to beautiful Duck, NC, and it jumped out based on my previous experience with "The Leftovers," which was based on another Tom Perrotta novel. The Jersey Shore -- another old haunt of mine -- was the ideal setting for this quick, relatable read.

The prose is incredibly wry, leaving you to wonder where and whether Perrotta meant to joke or examine at times. His exploration of big teenage feelings is subtle, resulting in the book feeling like a potential coming-out tale in places.

“I used to tell people that I had two writing careers, one for love and one for money, but I don't believe that anymore. The truth is, it’s all been one thing, just a bunch of variations on the only themes that have ever mattered to me.

“Ghosts and Orphans.

“Orphans and Ghosts.

“The ways we’re abandoned and never left alone.”

Much like the overall theme, "Ghost Town" was short and fleeting -- like an adolescent summer that you wished there was more of.

“It was beautiful but a little unreal, almost like he was pedaling through a good memory, a summer that had already come and gone.”

Day 2,280, Quasi-Quarantine: "Strong Ground" Is Peppered With Useful Leadership Terms and Exercises, But Falls Short On Originality

 

“A leader is anyone, regardless of title and position, who holds themself accountable for finding potential in people and ideas, and who has the courage to develop that potential.”

"Strong Ground" features a number of unique terms and exercises for how to balance work systems and claims for attention, with Brene Brown citing a number of real-world examples. The included charts were also extremely useful for visual learners, and one could argue that the work could have benefited from more of them to break up the text.

“Fear is a terrible motivator. It has a short shelf life, and to maintain enough fear to drive behavior, you have to get comfortable with cruelty and create chaotic systems that might feed a hungry investor quarter but will eventually destroy you and your organization.”

The book can get a bit grandiose and feel derivative of other works, with lengthy abstracts -- on the off chance that the subtitle of "The Lessons of Daring Leadership, the Tenacity of Paradox, and the Wisdom of the Human Spirit" didn't warn you. Beyond the preachiness, there was the technical issue of the page numbers being too small in the hardcover version, making it needlessly difficult to orient yourself within the text.

“One hundred percent of the organizations that we’ve researched or partnered with have a list of values. Approximately 10 percent have operationalized their values into observable behaviors that are grounded in their mission and integrated across their systems.”

"Strong Ground" can give the impression of being a collection of thoughts on the broad topic of leadership, without a unifying throughline or overall coherence. Format aside, however, the guidance shared can only benefit anyone who's embarking on -- or continuing -- a leadership journey.

“While companies eagerly invest in AI, they often overlook crucial investments in change management and employee support. This oversight could lead middle managers to view AI as a threat rather than a tool, fostering resistance that may dramatically slow implementation and adoption.”

~Amy Webb

Day 2,273, Quasi-Quarantine: "Son Of Nobody" Deftly Balances A Classics Discovery With Family Estrangement And Tragedy

“History, however true, needs interpreting, and fiction, however invented, arises from life and reflects it.”

“What is one to do with the sadness of mortals?”

A decade since his last novel, Yann Martel delivers again with "Son of Nobody," another novel featuring a unique format and resonant emotional tones.

In the midst of a failing marriage, scholar Harlow Donne journeys to Oxford for research and ends up discovering a lost retelling of the Trojan War from the perspective of Psoas, a common soldier and "son of nobody." Parts of the tale mirror Donne's estrangement from his wife, Gail, and his separation from his daughter, Helen.

“ … To show that the past is never done with, that always there are parallels and returns and repetitions, always the song continues.”

I've long been a fan of Martel's, following up the sublime "Life of Pi" with the underrated "Beatrice and Virgil," which finished third in The Scooties in 2010. I was also a fan of "The High Mountains of Portugal" -- the winner of The Scooties in 2017.

“These footnotes have their share of things to say. Don’t neglect them. We all live lives that are footnotes to a greater story.”

This reader found himself looking for a few more insights into the dissolution of the marriage, and especially more about Gail and her perspective. But I can also see how that angle would have been difficult to incorporate into the format Martel chose.

“I loved Gail like a scribe loves a bard, like a candle loves a flame, like history loves the past, like a tongue loves speech, like a baby loves a honey-dipped finger.”

Martel interlaces the ancient poem with footnotes that document his own struggles to find a connection with his family from abroad and the growing tragedy that lurks. "Son of Nobody" is moving and clever, using its eccentric approach to overcome a narrative that can occasionally feel rushed and incomplete.

“And so the conclusion: life is a walk, and while our bodies are solid, our joints are strong, and our vision is clear, yet we walk on feet of dreams.”

Day 2,267, Quasi-Quarantine: Sectarian Violence, Toxic Masculinity Propel Shattering "Young Mungo"

 

“Mungo’s capacity for love frustrated her. His loving wasn’t selflessness; he simply couldn’t help it. Mo-Maw needed so little and he produced too much, so that it all seemed a horrible waste. It was a harvest no one had seeded, and it blossomed from a vine no one had tended. It should have withered years ago, like hers had, like Hamish’s had. Yet Mungo had all this love to give and it lay about him like ripened fruit and nobody bothered to gather it up.”

This novel of desperation is run through with an inescapable sense of dread and impending violence, as Douglas Stuart explores the underbelly of Glasgow.

“The sun was not yet fully overhead in the sky, and everything beautiful was all already ruined.”

Mungo Hamilton is a neglected 15-year-old struggling with a warped existence that makes love and violence two sides of the same coin. An alcoholic mother, an aspirational sister, and a gang-leader brother use him for their own needs, ignoring his own questions about sexuality and how to cope with the toxic masculinity that surrounds him.

“The men had looked at him as though they knew what lay inside his soul, things he still had not even admitted to himself. They knew the inescapable shame of it, how isolated it made him feel, and they had used that to separate him from his home and do as they pleased.”

Subjected to unspeakable violence, Mungo manages to carve out a friendship with James, whose religion, family challenges, and identity questions make him the worst possible fit in Mungo's environment. The pair wages battle against upbringings that have rendered love almost impossible. Almost.

“It seemed like this boy could not have spent a day on the same streets that Mungo knew, never needed any of its callous posturing, the self-protective swagger, the dirty promise of hitting first. There was nothing guarded or fearful about him. Mungo couldn’t help but smile back up at him. ‘I’m Mungo.’”

I discovered a copy of Stuart's debut novel, "Shuggie Bain," in a bookstore in Edinburgh and I forking loved it, ranking it No. 5 in the Scooties top five books of the year 2023. Stuart's work evokes Dickens, so it was useful to escape the overwhelming neglect and poverty by finishing this one at the Sanderling in cathartic Duck, NC.

“It was only a matter of time before James would be hurt, and for what? For liking Mungo Hamilton, the ruiner of all good things.”

If I had to identify some quibbles, I think Douglas offers up a rather one-dimensional depiction of an entire region. He also gives short shrift to Mungo's mother, Maureen, and I for one would have preferred a little more of a glimpse into her internal life.

“She had asked for violence out of a gentle soul and it made her feel like she had trampled a patch of fresh snow.”

“Jodie thought about how Mungo had moulded himself so entirely around Mo-Maw, how she had formed him into the exact component piece that she had been missing, and now that she didn’t need him anymore, he was stuck in this weird specific shape.”

When Mungo's sister Jodie turns traitor, it feels like the final knife in the back. But despite "Young Mungo" being a devastating read, filling readers with every emotion, it finds its way to an ending riddled with hope and tinges of redemption.

“He was watching, and he was waiting, and he was leaving all at the same time.”

Day 2,260, Quasi-Quarantine: "Journey Without Maps" Documents A Harrowing Venture Through Africa's Interior

“Later I got used to not caring a damn, just to walking and staying put when I had walked far enough, at some village of which I didn’t know the name, to letting myself drift with Africa.”

Graham Greene's account of a four-week, head-long scamper through the interior of Liberia stands as a strong commentary on the impacts of colonialism in early-20th-century Africa. He and his retinue -- including his companion, a cousin he barely mentions -- covered some 350 miles on foot, braving a number of physical and cultural dangers.

“ … The peculiarly Protestant characteristic of combining martyrdom with absurdity.”

The author continuously put his health and safety at risk in "Journey Without Maps," but the intent of his trek was often missing. He seemed bent on rushing as fast as possible through the experience much of the time, causing a reader to wonder what he had hoped to achieve.

“I felt crazy to be here in the middle of Liberia when everything I knew intimately was European. It was like a bad dream. I couldn’t remember why I had come.”

I was a big fan of Greene's work in "The Quiet American," and this certainly represents a massive departure from that style. Perhaps an element of this tale that could have benefited from more exploration was the impact of the journey on his mental state.

“Today our world seems peculiarly susceptible to brutality. There is a touch of nostalgia in the pleasure we take in gangster novels, in characters who have so agreeably simplified their emotions that they have begun living again at a level below the cerebral.”

Greene credits the ordeal for rekindling his love of life, despite latter-life admissions that it was a reckless endeavor. His interactions with villagers are perhaps the best part of the book -- especially when they serve to highlight the ways in which the natives are being taken advantage of by his countrymen and other Europeans.

“A child was crying in a tenement not far from the Lord Warden, the wail of a child too young to speak, too young to have learnt what the dark may conceal in the way of lust and murder, crying for no intelligible reason but because it still possessed the ancestral fear, the devil was dancing in its sleep.”

Day 2,248, Quasi-Quarantine: Pacing, Humor Propel "Lost Lambs" To Must-Read Status

“She did not subscribe to the notion that some things were the way they were, always had been, always would be. That the sun set early in the winter, limiting playtime. That, once out, toothpaste could not be put back in the tube. Things only were the way they were because she had not yet been around to fix them.”

Mix bizarre family dynamics and teen angst, stir vigorously, insert dark themes, and somehow produce freshly baked hilarity? Somehow that's what Madeline Cash has achieved with her debut novel, "Lost Lambs."

“Louise was in a prison of her own mundanity. She’d taken to intentionally throwing out the metal forks with the food scraps when she scraped her dinner plate, just so that she might feel a momentary rush.”

Three teenage girls face adolescent challenges interlaced with global scandals while their parents experiment with an open, confusing marriage. The result is a series of subplots that ends up overlapping in delightful ways at the end.

“It was the best part of a new relationship, when you could fill a library with what you didn’t know about another person. Pure potential.”

The slight quibbles are that Cash employs an intentional stylistic device that doesn't quite work and ends up being an unnecessary distraction. Also, the pivotal scene in the mansion resolves without a real explanation of what happens.

Beyond that, "Lost Lambs" is an escapist's delight, capturing the weighty, existential issues of our time without ever forgetting to laugh.

“Control what people do and you’re a king. Control how people think and you’re a god.”

Day 2,245, Quasi-Quarantine: Fever-Dream Writing Of "Brawler" Undermined By Cardboard Characters

“I look around and can see it in so many other women, passed down from a time beyond history, this wind that is dark and ceaseless and raging within.”

~“Wind”

This gut-wrenching collection features short stories that include large twists and real emotion. Groff examines gender dynamics, relationships between guardians and children, and the lasting effects of trauma.

Some of the standouts include "Wind," "What's the Time, Mr. Wolf?", and "Under the Wave." In addition, "Between the Shadow and the Soul" was complex, "Such Small Hands" was nuanced, "Annunciation" had a compelling ending, and "Sunland" was straight-up gutting.

“Oh, but she hadn’t wanted to leave him, not really, had she. She had just wanted to know what it was like to brush up against the dazzling future again. She felt the part of her that the lush spring had stirred to life go dormant, deep in her, once more. She knew that it would not awaken again in her lifetime.”

~“Between the Shadow and the Soul”

I had some experience with Groff's work, but the short-story form feels like a better fit for her than the novel. Despite it coming highly recommended, "Fates & Furies" was a bit overwrought for me. 

While the bulk of these tales highlight one-dimensional male characters -- with a lack of nuance hurting some of the plots -- "Brawler" as a whole is well worth the time for those readers ready to experience a full range of feelings.

“But that was the moment when she knew he would lie to her, and everything her spun away from him, and he was the one she hated as she walked out the door.”

~“Brawler”

Day 2,235, Quasi-Quarantine: "The Director" Captures The Whirlwind Experience Of A Captive Director During World War II

“ … There was one thing experience had taught her: directors didn’t accept a gentle no, for the simple reason that people who accepted a gentle no never could have become directors.”

Daniel Kehlmann's sprawling tale follows the exploits of famed director G.W. Pabst, who eventually finds himself captive and coerced into creating movies for the appeasement of his Nazi overlords. 

“It was one of those moments when everything seems to have been said, when it suddenly feels like the present has been used and nothing is left but a threatening future.”

Kehlmann's strongest accomplishment is allowing the narrative to veer into farce and satire without ever giving short shrift to the mild terror directly underneath. His story -- translated by Ross Benjamin -- allows for exploration of questions about the relationship between dictatorship and identity, the role of artistic license, and the value of autonomy.

“Suddenly there was silence. All conversation had stopped. The director stood in front of him, her mouth half open, looking at him. I was wrong, he thought. You actually can recognize the truly evil people at a single glance.”

"The Director" bounces around from Austria to Los Angeles to Czechoslovakia to France to Nazi Germany, lending a manic pace to elements of the narrative. The tale serves as a worthy exploration of the true meaning and merit of talent -- what is it worth and what is it worth sacrificing for?

“This was exactly what it had to be about–that music only seemed to speak of beauty, but in reality it spoke of how nothing was ever enough, how everything always fell short. How so much would never be ours.”

The appearance of famous people and stars from history lends weight to the novel. Kehlmann does a stellar job of capturing the fragile state of culture against the backdrop of horror, making "The Director" a memorable -- and vital -- read.

“‘Times are always strange. Art is always out of place. Always unnecessary when it’s made. And later, when you look back, it’s the only thing that mattered.’”

Day 2,220, Quasi-Quarantine: "Football" Serves As Thoughtful Love Letter To The Sport

“Football imitates American society by generating a sensation of chaotic freedom within an environment of near-total control.”

Chuck Klosterman’s meandering missive on America's actual national pasttime can feel a bit dense and esoteric -- while somehow managing to be hilarious and absorbing. "Football" is an eclectic mix that works, with the author dropping surprise bits of wisdom into discussion of the vagaries of six-man football.

Along the way, the author also manages to almost perfectly capture my feelings toward the Miami Dolphins.

“ … I sometimes fear I’m experiencing the most bottomless version of fandom, where I love a team I don’t even like, emotionally betrothed against my will.”

Klosterman peppers the prose with fortune cookie-ish sayings, giving the work heft interspersed with nostalgia, concern, and doubt.

“Pervasive institutional control, so entrenched that it’s become unremarkable, is both the facilitator for society’s overall enhancement and the reason so many individuals within that society feel alienated by the very things making their life easier. Everything was upgraded and nothing got better.”

Klosterman closes with an entirely plausible scenario that predicts the eventual disappearance of the game, serving as a fitting ending to a fascinating read.

“If football did not already exist and was being invented today, there’s no way this amount of idle loitering would be included. The elevator pitch would seem like a joke: ‘Let’s create a complicated, violent game where nothing happens during 94 percent of the telecast, shown from a camera perspective that limits the viewer’s ability to see what’s happening.’”