America seems to have an obsession with autism at the moment. Every time you turn around there is another special news segment, heart-warming story, video of someone with savant abilities, or slightly goofy sit-com character that either explicitly or implicitly is identified as having autism. And really, while the effects of autism can be devastating for those living with it and their caregivers, it is a pretty fascinating condition. Autism brings up all of the things that we don't understand about the brain, and the ways in which a brain affected by autism works can be as intriguing as it is impenetrable.
In Eye Contact, Cammie McGovern uses autism as the framework for a murder mystery. A young girl is killed when she wandered from the school playground. The only witness to the crime is another student, a boy with autism named Adam. He doesn't speak for says after the murder, but his mother Cara is sure that he knows what happened. She begins to work with him on expressing what he saw, and in the process discovers that the murder may have connections to her own life that she never expected.
The story goes back and forth between the present-day mystery and Cara's past. We discover her tumultuous relationship with her best friend, and the relationship that led to Adam's conception. The mystery did keep me guessing, but what really kept me engaged was the relationship between Cara and Adam, and the very authentic descriptions of living with autism. McGovern has a son with autism herself, and her intimate knowledge of caring for a child with special needs made the story feel very real. I was not 100% satisfied with the resolution of the mystery itself, but not so dissatisfied that I was disappointed in the book. Overall this was a good popcorn book for my Christmas vacation!
Eye Contact, Cammie McGovern
Friday, January 11, 2013
Monday, January 07, 2013
As a school teacher, I am intimately familiar with one aspect of Jehovah's Witness theology-the prohibition against celebrating holidays. Every year there was at least one child in my class who would have to sit out during our Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine's parties. Occasionally they would also have to leave the room while birthday treats were passed out, and of course, alternate assignments had to be given for any holiday themed project. Other than their apparent aversion to party food and paper hearts, I knew very little about their actual beliefs. To be honest, I wasn't even sure if Jehovah's Witness fell under the umbrella of Christianity. I gleaned a bit more over the years, and as a Unitarian Universalist I felt strongly that I should respect the right of everyone to follow whatever religious path they wanted, as long as it wasn't hurtful to anyone else.
Well, I can't speak to how most Jehovah's Witnesses practice their faith, and whether they find it oppressive or painful, but I know of at least one who did. In I'm Perfect, You're Doomed, Kyria Abrahams shares stories from her childhood in a religious JW family (an abbreviation that I use because she did). They are alternately hilarious and horrifying-like the meetings her mother would have with her teachers at the beginning of the year to discuss the many benefits having a Witness in class will bring, or the fact that according to the elders the Smurfs were actually little blue demons that could steal your soul for Satan.
The book opens when Kyria is in elementary school, and she tells the quirky, sometimes crazy stories about her family and their Kingdom Hall with self-deprecating wit and an ability to laugh at herself. As she gets older in the memoir, however, her stories take on a dark tone that made me realize just how difficult it was for her to live up to the pressure of living up to the almost impossible standards of the only "true" Christians. As her life spirals out of control, the true dangers of any fundamentalist upbringing becomes clear-Kyria has no idea how to deal with anything that contradicts her very rigid belief system , and no idea how to function in the real world. By the end of the book, I'd gone from laughing out loud to gasping in horror. And I can honestly say that the more I learned about Jehovah's Witness the more I became convinced that no matter how much my Unitarian Universalist heart wants to respect other people's faith traditions, the inherent problems with the judgmental, rigid theology of the Jehovah's Witness seems more problematic than redemptive.
Well, I can't speak to how most Jehovah's Witnesses practice their faith, and whether they find it oppressive or painful, but I know of at least one who did. In I'm Perfect, You're Doomed, Kyria Abrahams shares stories from her childhood in a religious JW family (an abbreviation that I use because she did). They are alternately hilarious and horrifying-like the meetings her mother would have with her teachers at the beginning of the year to discuss the many benefits having a Witness in class will bring, or the fact that according to the elders the Smurfs were actually little blue demons that could steal your soul for Satan.
The book opens when Kyria is in elementary school, and she tells the quirky, sometimes crazy stories about her family and their Kingdom Hall with self-deprecating wit and an ability to laugh at herself. As she gets older in the memoir, however, her stories take on a dark tone that made me realize just how difficult it was for her to live up to the pressure of living up to the almost impossible standards of the only "true" Christians. As her life spirals out of control, the true dangers of any fundamentalist upbringing becomes clear-Kyria has no idea how to deal with anything that contradicts her very rigid belief system , and no idea how to function in the real world. By the end of the book, I'd gone from laughing out loud to gasping in horror. And I can honestly say that the more I learned about Jehovah's Witness the more I became convinced that no matter how much my Unitarian Universalist heart wants to respect other people's faith traditions, the inherent problems with the judgmental, rigid theology of the Jehovah's Witness seems more problematic than redemptive.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Imagine you are the sheriff of a large county in southern Arizona that is routinely understaffed and over-extended. Now imagine that you are also almost nine months pregnant. That is exactly Joanna Brady's life at he beginning of Dead Wrong. When she and her team of detectives gets a call to a murder scene in the desert, she is surprised to find a man brutally beaten to death, missing is fingers. The victim is an ex-con, who was paroled recently after serving over 20 years for allegedly killing his wife in a drunken black-out. Convicted, despite the fact that her body was never found. In addition, one of her animal control officers is beaten and left for dead while investigating a couple of local thugs for running a dog fighting ring. With her manpower shortage, Joanna has no choice but to keep working-but this turns out to be a relief, when her overbearing mother-in-law shows up unexpectedly to wait out the birth of her grandchild. Joanna and her deputies will soon be facing the consequences of a decades old secret, one that puts Joanna and her unborn son at risk. But being a sheriff is part of her now, and finding a way to balance her career and her family is a challenge.
It took me a little while to get into this book, but once I did it was hard to put it down. The Joanna Brady series is one I have dipped in and out of over the years. I haven't read all of them, but when I do pick one up I am never disappointed with the story. Her character combines the traits of all great female crime fighters-inner strength plus common sense plus compassion and a deep sense of justice. Not to mention she's kind of bad-ass when it comes to taking down the bad guys. The plot is fairly intricate but pretty believable which enough wiggle room in how it could play out to keep a person guessing until the end. I figured out the broad strokes of the secret fairly early, but I still wasn't sure about the details prior to the big reveal. As popcorn books go, I'd say Jance's books are pretty much a safe bet.
It took me a little while to get into this book, but once I did it was hard to put it down. The Joanna Brady series is one I have dipped in and out of over the years. I haven't read all of them, but when I do pick one up I am never disappointed with the story. Her character combines the traits of all great female crime fighters-inner strength plus common sense plus compassion and a deep sense of justice. Not to mention she's kind of bad-ass when it comes to taking down the bad guys. The plot is fairly intricate but pretty believable which enough wiggle room in how it could play out to keep a person guessing until the end. I figured out the broad strokes of the secret fairly early, but I still wasn't sure about the details prior to the big reveal. As popcorn books go, I'd say Jance's books are pretty much a safe bet.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
If there is one era of human history that has been well documented and analyzed and memorialized in books and film, it is the Holocaust. And rightfully so. The tragic events of that time, perpetrated with such callous disregard for all that is good and right about the world, deserves to be kept alive in our memories, if only to remind us never to let the evils of racism and xenophobia on that scale happen again. Of course, it has happened again-in Rwanda, and Darfur, and Srebrenica-but most of the Western world at least has heeded the lessons of the Holocaust and has responded fairly quickly and decisively to any hint of the rise of neo-nazism or ethnic hatred.
As a Unitarian Universalist, I belong to a denomination that believes in radical inclusion. One of our central beliefs is the right of all people to determine their own path to the divine, to search for their own truth and meaning through a variety of theological or ethical beliefs. And as a youth advisor, I spend a great deal of my time discussing our faith tradition with my youth. Whenever we talk about inclusion and acceptance, we inevitably get around to "the Hitler Question", as one of my youth put it. Would we as accepting, radically inclusive Unitarian Universalists accept Adolf Hitler? The answer, of course, is that we would never be put into that position, as Hitler would not have been likely to associate with a progressive church that loves Jews and gays, but also because everything he stood for was antithetical to the Untiarian Universalist principles. But Hitler, for all of his evil, was also perhaps one of the most successful manipulators of public opinion in history. In The Lost Wife, by Alyson Richman, we are offered as proof of this manipulation in the form of the Terezin, a prison work camp for Czechoslovakian Jews that also served as a way station for Jews headed to Aushwitz.
The Lost Wife begins with a recognition-Josef, in his 80s, meets an elderly woman at his grandson's wedding who seems very familiar. It is not until he sees the numbers tattooed on her arm that he begins to suspect that she could be his long-lost wife, Lenka-a woman he thought died in Auschwitz over 60 years before. The rest of the novel details their lives in Czechoslovakia, from growing up privileged pre-occupation to the terrible run up to the war, to the camp and to America. Josef, a doctor, escapes to American, promising to send for Lenka and her family. Lenka is sent with her sister and parents to Terezin, a work camp that was used as a cover for the Nazi's real agenda-the extermination of the Jewish people. Because of the chaos that ensued, both Josef and Lenka believed that the other had perished, until that fateful night when Josef's grandson was to marry Lenka's granddaughter.
For me the book was an education in the way the Nazi's attempted to keep the world in the dark about what was happening in the concentration camps. Built specifically as a ghetto, meant to hold 5,000 people, was home to up to 55,000 at a time. A film was made about the town, proclaiming to the world that the Nazi's had built a "city for the Jews". The one time that the Red Cross was allowed to visit, the ghetto was dressed up along the route the officials would take, with prisoners given extra food to make them look healthier, allowed to bathe and given new clothes. The shop windows were filled with goods, which were immediately taken away when the Red Cross left.
One of the things that made the camp unusual was the incredible number of artists of various kinds that were housed there. Richman said that part of her motivation behind writing the book was to tell the story of the Holocaust from the point of view of an artist. Lenka was a painter, and she was given work with other artists making art that the Nazi's sold to help fund their war effort. But that was not the only art that made it out of the camp. Many artists stole painting supplies and smuggled out pictures of what was really going on in Terezin. There were also many musicians in the camp, and there were operas and plays and concerts performed whenever a group could find a secret place to hold them. The Lost Wife, while being a testament to the enduring power of true love, also shows the triumph of the human spirit and artistic endeavor over pain, fear, powerlessness, and violence.
As a Unitarian Universalist, I belong to a denomination that believes in radical inclusion. One of our central beliefs is the right of all people to determine their own path to the divine, to search for their own truth and meaning through a variety of theological or ethical beliefs. And as a youth advisor, I spend a great deal of my time discussing our faith tradition with my youth. Whenever we talk about inclusion and acceptance, we inevitably get around to "the Hitler Question", as one of my youth put it. Would we as accepting, radically inclusive Unitarian Universalists accept Adolf Hitler? The answer, of course, is that we would never be put into that position, as Hitler would not have been likely to associate with a progressive church that loves Jews and gays, but also because everything he stood for was antithetical to the Untiarian Universalist principles. But Hitler, for all of his evil, was also perhaps one of the most successful manipulators of public opinion in history. In The Lost Wife, by Alyson Richman, we are offered as proof of this manipulation in the form of the Terezin, a prison work camp for Czechoslovakian Jews that also served as a way station for Jews headed to Aushwitz.
The Lost Wife begins with a recognition-Josef, in his 80s, meets an elderly woman at his grandson's wedding who seems very familiar. It is not until he sees the numbers tattooed on her arm that he begins to suspect that she could be his long-lost wife, Lenka-a woman he thought died in Auschwitz over 60 years before. The rest of the novel details their lives in Czechoslovakia, from growing up privileged pre-occupation to the terrible run up to the war, to the camp and to America. Josef, a doctor, escapes to American, promising to send for Lenka and her family. Lenka is sent with her sister and parents to Terezin, a work camp that was used as a cover for the Nazi's real agenda-the extermination of the Jewish people. Because of the chaos that ensued, both Josef and Lenka believed that the other had perished, until that fateful night when Josef's grandson was to marry Lenka's granddaughter.
For me the book was an education in the way the Nazi's attempted to keep the world in the dark about what was happening in the concentration camps. Built specifically as a ghetto, meant to hold 5,000 people, was home to up to 55,000 at a time. A film was made about the town, proclaiming to the world that the Nazi's had built a "city for the Jews". The one time that the Red Cross was allowed to visit, the ghetto was dressed up along the route the officials would take, with prisoners given extra food to make them look healthier, allowed to bathe and given new clothes. The shop windows were filled with goods, which were immediately taken away when the Red Cross left.
One of the things that made the camp unusual was the incredible number of artists of various kinds that were housed there. Richman said that part of her motivation behind writing the book was to tell the story of the Holocaust from the point of view of an artist. Lenka was a painter, and she was given work with other artists making art that the Nazi's sold to help fund their war effort. But that was not the only art that made it out of the camp. Many artists stole painting supplies and smuggled out pictures of what was really going on in Terezin. There were also many musicians in the camp, and there were operas and plays and concerts performed whenever a group could find a secret place to hold them. The Lost Wife, while being a testament to the enduring power of true love, also shows the triumph of the human spirit and artistic endeavor over pain, fear, powerlessness, and violence.
Monday, December 10, 2012
One of my favorite popcorn authors is Laura Lippman. Her thrillers are smart and action-packed and always have an interesting psychological component. But I'd Know You Anywhere falls short of the emotional impact that I have grown to expect from her books.
Eliza Bennet is a happily married mother of two. After living in London for about a decade, her family has moved back to the US, to a quiet suburb of Baltimore. But her idyllic family life in the present has a horrific past at its core. Twenty years ago, when she was only 15 and called herself Elizabeth, Eliza was kidnapped and held for six weeks by a serial killer named Walter Bowman. Known by some as the "one who survived", and by others as a possible accomplice to Bowman's killing spree, Eliza has worked hard to put her past behind her, changing her name, moving away from her family, and keeping herself out of the public eye. Only her parents, sister, and husband know her story. At least until Bowman, on death row and scheduled for execution in a few short weeks, reaches out to her, asking for contact. Eliza, seeing a chance to get him to confess to the other murders he committed and give some families long-awaited comfort and justice, agrees to talk with him. What she doesn't know is that he plans to try and use her to get his sentence commuted.
The story is told in chapters that alternate between the past and present, with certain sections of the book being told from the point of view of Walter Bowman. The chapters that detail Eliza's imprisonment were surprisingly non-threatening. Bowman made her travel with him, and even kidnapped another girl while she was with him, but I never got that feeling in my gut that I get when I read a really good thriller. The chapters that detail the present day are even less emotionally satisfying. I understood her feelings of guilt, and how she could question her own perceptions of something that happened to her when she was young and traumatized, but at times it felt like so much navel-gazing. And the ending was way anti-climactic. Let's just say that all the angst boils down to a rear-view mirror. There was no real sense of menace, and given that one of the most violent character is locked up on death row for the entire novel, there is no real action either. I'll not give up on Lippman, but this was not her best.
Eliza Bennet is a happily married mother of two. After living in London for about a decade, her family has moved back to the US, to a quiet suburb of Baltimore. But her idyllic family life in the present has a horrific past at its core. Twenty years ago, when she was only 15 and called herself Elizabeth, Eliza was kidnapped and held for six weeks by a serial killer named Walter Bowman. Known by some as the "one who survived", and by others as a possible accomplice to Bowman's killing spree, Eliza has worked hard to put her past behind her, changing her name, moving away from her family, and keeping herself out of the public eye. Only her parents, sister, and husband know her story. At least until Bowman, on death row and scheduled for execution in a few short weeks, reaches out to her, asking for contact. Eliza, seeing a chance to get him to confess to the other murders he committed and give some families long-awaited comfort and justice, agrees to talk with him. What she doesn't know is that he plans to try and use her to get his sentence commuted. The story is told in chapters that alternate between the past and present, with certain sections of the book being told from the point of view of Walter Bowman. The chapters that detail Eliza's imprisonment were surprisingly non-threatening. Bowman made her travel with him, and even kidnapped another girl while she was with him, but I never got that feeling in my gut that I get when I read a really good thriller. The chapters that detail the present day are even less emotionally satisfying. I understood her feelings of guilt, and how she could question her own perceptions of something that happened to her when she was young and traumatized, but at times it felt like so much navel-gazing. And the ending was way anti-climactic. Let's just say that all the angst boils down to a rear-view mirror. There was no real sense of menace, and given that one of the most violent character is locked up on death row for the entire novel, there is no real action either. I'll not give up on Lippman, but this was not her best.
Thursday, November 08, 2012
Simon Beckett is one of the better mystery/thriller writer's I've discovered in a while. His main character, David Hunt, is a forensic anthropologist from the UK, complete with tragic past and an obsessive nature focused on finding justice for the dead. Beckett's books are formulaic thrillers on the surface, but with a sense of malevolence and creepiness that does not always come across in other works in this genre.
Whispers of the Dead finds David taking a sabbatical from his work in the UK. He is studying in the US, at a body farm in Tennessee just known as "the facility". There, bodies are exposed to the elements in various ways so that pathologists and forensic anthropologists can study the effects of varying environments in the decomposition process. And that is not even the grossest thing in this book! David is mostly recovered physically from being attacked by a serial killer, but the fact that she escaped and is possibly hunting him down to finish the job makes it harder to heal emotionally. He is hoping that getting away from England and his failed relationship with his girlfriend will give him some perspective, and help him figure out how to move forward. He has barely arrived when he is drawn into a series of bizarre murders at the request of his old friend and mentor. There is a killer at work in the Smoky Mountains, leaving bodies or parts of bodies in elaborate tableaux designed to draw the forensic people deeper and deeper into his crimes. Soon David and his friend become targets themselves. Can this really be happening to him AGAIN? (that would be the "David Hunt can't catch a break" part)
Despite the fact that it seems completely unlikely in real life that the same forensic anthropologist could be targeted by not one but two serial killers in succession, the fact is that the story is so good that I didn't even care that it wasn't that feasible. The story is mostly told in the first-person from David's point of view, but at the end of each chapter is a vignette written in a slightly awkward second-person that reveals the mind of the killer. There are plenty of hints dropped along the way, but even so I was still surprised by the twist at the end. And Beckett is not afraid to kill off important major or minor characters, which adds a sense of unpredictability to the whole things that is refreshing in a formula genre book. Whispers of the Dead is an excellent popcorn book-as long as you aren't too squeamish when you eat...er...read!
Whispers of the Dead finds David taking a sabbatical from his work in the UK. He is studying in the US, at a body farm in Tennessee just known as "the facility". There, bodies are exposed to the elements in various ways so that pathologists and forensic anthropologists can study the effects of varying environments in the decomposition process. And that is not even the grossest thing in this book! David is mostly recovered physically from being attacked by a serial killer, but the fact that she escaped and is possibly hunting him down to finish the job makes it harder to heal emotionally. He is hoping that getting away from England and his failed relationship with his girlfriend will give him some perspective, and help him figure out how to move forward. He has barely arrived when he is drawn into a series of bizarre murders at the request of his old friend and mentor. There is a killer at work in the Smoky Mountains, leaving bodies or parts of bodies in elaborate tableaux designed to draw the forensic people deeper and deeper into his crimes. Soon David and his friend become targets themselves. Can this really be happening to him AGAIN? (that would be the "David Hunt can't catch a break" part)
Despite the fact that it seems completely unlikely in real life that the same forensic anthropologist could be targeted by not one but two serial killers in succession, the fact is that the story is so good that I didn't even care that it wasn't that feasible. The story is mostly told in the first-person from David's point of view, but at the end of each chapter is a vignette written in a slightly awkward second-person that reveals the mind of the killer. There are plenty of hints dropped along the way, but even so I was still surprised by the twist at the end. And Beckett is not afraid to kill off important major or minor characters, which adds a sense of unpredictability to the whole things that is refreshing in a formula genre book. Whispers of the Dead is an excellent popcorn book-as long as you aren't too squeamish when you eat...er...read!
Sunday, November 04, 2012
America is fairly obsessed with the serial killer, both in the true crime sense and the fictional sense. There are many infamous killers out there who have captured our imagination, but they are mostly men. Female serial killers are a rare breed. Of the ten most prolific female serial killers, only three were active in the 20th century. Compare that to just the number of male serial killers that you can probably name off the top of your head and you can understand why female serial killers get the kind of attention they do.
Even though the group is small, Gregg Olsen knows a lot about them. The best selling author of non-fiction books on female killers turned his attention to creating a fictional one in his first novel, A Wicked Snow. Hannah Griffin-wife, mother, and CSI- has spent most of her life trying to forget her past, and the terrible night when it was discovered that her mother killed at least 17 men and buried them on her Christmas tree farm. After that night, Claire Logan became synonymous with evil and greed and filicide (killing one's own children-you're welcome!). Her mother disappeared that night, and many people believed she was dead. But Hannah felt sure that her mother was alive, and when a package turns up at her office containing evidence from her mother's case, she begins a search that leads her to some surprising discoveries.
This is a masterful thriller. Olsen does a really good job pacing the novel so that you are totally drawn into the mystery without being frustrated by the things you still don't know. Hannah herself is a character that is easy to relate to, as are the other major characters. Her motives and actions seem perfectly reasonable given the circumstances, and there is an emotional impact from the fact that she was directly related to the events behind the current story. As popcorn books go, this one is very satisfying!
Even though the group is small, Gregg Olsen knows a lot about them. The best selling author of non-fiction books on female killers turned his attention to creating a fictional one in his first novel, A Wicked Snow. Hannah Griffin-wife, mother, and CSI- has spent most of her life trying to forget her past, and the terrible night when it was discovered that her mother killed at least 17 men and buried them on her Christmas tree farm. After that night, Claire Logan became synonymous with evil and greed and filicide (killing one's own children-you're welcome!). Her mother disappeared that night, and many people believed she was dead. But Hannah felt sure that her mother was alive, and when a package turns up at her office containing evidence from her mother's case, she begins a search that leads her to some surprising discoveries.
This is a masterful thriller. Olsen does a really good job pacing the novel so that you are totally drawn into the mystery without being frustrated by the things you still don't know. Hannah herself is a character that is easy to relate to, as are the other major characters. Her motives and actions seem perfectly reasonable given the circumstances, and there is an emotional impact from the fact that she was directly related to the events behind the current story. As popcorn books go, this one is very satisfying!
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