Reviews and Comments

I've read one or two of Carter's autobiographical works, the biography by Jonathan Alter, and now this one. From what I can remember of Alter's work, that is the one I still highly recommend, but there's no reason you should read just one Carter bio, and this one is also comprehensive, I would say lighter on the childhood and early years (in fact, the section covering his early political career seemed so choppily written I speculated the author was impeded by a bout of covid, the timing seems right, or an overly aggressive editor), but really digs in through the presidential years, especially, a topic painful to my heart, the likelihood that the Reagan campaign sabotaged the Iranian hostage release. The post-presidential years are some consolation, and my e-reader told me there was another 20 percent of the book covering that but was misled, a huge chunk of that is the acknowledgements (well worth reading, too), bibliography, photo gallery, and book notes, so I guess I'd like to see a book devoted to the post-presidential accomplishments - this one highlights Carter's cowboy diplomacy negotiation of a nuclear freeze with North Korea (to the benefit and irritation of the Clinton administration) just as American troops were about to be sent over, but doesn't mention his similar dealing in Haiti that also obviated the need for an American troop landing, which I only know because I read it in the Alter bio. So again, for this president, one bio is not enough.

This is the first book in Tony Hillerman's Navajo mystery series, known to Dark Winds watchers as the Leaphorn, Chee, and Manuelita series but it's just Leaphorn here and some white guy, and it's the basis of the third season of Dark Winds, so already there are differences, though probably still a bit of a spoiler (I haven't finished the third season yet). One thing I didn't realize is how long ago these books were written, which shouldn't be a surprise I guess as the TV show is faithful to the time period, but it shows up in the writing as, in an Ian Fleming novel, women are typically referred to as girls (I gather the author's daughter has taken up the series so already in an excerpt of one of her books it seems that's something that's changed). Aside from that quaintness, the immersion in the Southwestern environment and Navajo culture makes it a page-turner more than the mystery, which is adequate enough for its purposes (reminds me of another old-timey spy writer, Len Deighton, where the settings and characters and their mid-life crises were more interesting than whatever spy thign was happening).

I enjoyed my first Bill Bryson book, whatever it was, and did't get far in the second as it seemed mean and snarky, making fun of Iowa and waitresses. He's from Iowa but perhaps two decades in England have rubbed off (a reference to a cleaner who was an "Oriental woman" sounds very British or very last century American. This book continues the snark tradition (and I'm getting the impression it is in the grand tradition of travel writing, as I recently found the same kind of serving staff ridicule in Travels with Charley by that Steinbeck who is otherwise the champion of the working class), feeling like a rather long yelp review complaining about the service of the establishment, in this case Australia. It is somewhat humorous, with a disproportonate number of gonad jokes, and highly educational (I'm setting the bar low, as I hardly know anything about Australia, the general American ignorance of being one of the points of the book), and depressing kudos for bringing up issues like the treatment of Aborigines and the astonishingly clearly named White Australia policy. Amusingly, ironically, the book ends with irritation at sportswriters, apparently even less respectable than travel writers, who spent the Sydney Olympics complaining about how they couldn't get a decent bagel or cup of coffee (sounds like they're all New Yorkers, and in fairness they make those same complaints everywhere else in the US). So in the end, notwithstanding vacuous hotel clerks and ridiculously toxic fauna, Bryson loves Australia.

This is my first in the Kenzie and Gennaro series (I don't like reading them out of order, but what can you do) and the least favorite of my Lehane reads, partly because the subject matter is so disturbing (but what can you do) and a dour tone pervades the story, except for an entertaining half page where the narrator complains about The Smiths (but in general lauds 80s music). Probably the end would have had more impact if I hadn't seen the end of the movie, nevertheless the book is skillfully written with some entertaining characters (I'll have to read the previous books in this series just to find out who Bubba is) and moves the suspense along, excelling in the action scenes (the body count is high enough I couldn't place some of the deceased's names at the end) and imparts a Bostonian flavor that feels true from my few years there, down to the white guys joking about how they're white guys.