Afloat On The Ohio (1897) By Reuben Gold Thwaites

For readers who slept through their high school American history classes, you probably missed a key detail we “citified” people raised in the northern counties of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois conveniently like to overlook: the undeniable fact that our three states were settled by immigrants from the bottom up, not from the top down.

Putting it in family terms, the Drakes and Coffeys (paternal grandparents) did not fly into Chicago’s O’Hare airport and take the Amtrak south to Logan County, Illinois; they likely floated down the Ohio, and up the Wabash in the early 1820’s (beating a later upstart named Abraham Lincoln to central Illinois by a full generation). On the maternal side, the Hendersons (grandmother) were a clear boat ride down the Ohio River to its convergence with the Mississippi River (a.k.a. the flood zone); while the Wards (grandfather) appear to have turned south down the Tennessee River before turning around and veering north again. This makes my family tree not much different than that of countless other “native” Midwesterners, particularly those with Scottish-Irish surnames.

If one is into history, and I am, this settlement of the heartland saga is covered in detail in a travel log written long ago titled Afloat on the Ohio by Reuben GoldThwaites. In the 1800s, the Ohio River was the superhighway of American expansion. Thwaites (1853 – 1913) was a journalist and librarian who was the editor of the Wisconsin State Journal. His more famous work as an editor was on the Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

Afloat on the Ohio is not technically a history book, it’s the log from a "vacation" trip Thwaite, his wife, their ten year old son, and a friend dubbed “the Doctor” took in 1894.  Like the pioneers before them, they launched their journey at Redstone (now known as Brownsville, Pennsylvania) on the Monongahela River, which winds its way north a little ways to Pittsburgh where it merges with the Allegheny to form the Ohio River. Six weeks later they disembarked from their boat in Cairo, Illinois (pronounced Kay-row) where the Ohio River meets the Mississippi River. Between were cities/towns like: Wheeling, Ashland, Cincinnati, Covington, Louisville, New Albany, Owensboro, Evansville, Elizabethtown, Paducah and Metropolis (Fort Massac). Get out the atlas, you will need it.

The significance of this waterway to American history cannot be overstated, as one rapidly learns as the party pulls ashore each night to camp. There was not a single stop that Thwaites was not able to relate to an event in American history. In the early decades of the new nation the river was the divide between the acknowledged Indian country on the north side of the river, and the storied Davey Crockett – Daniel Boone settlement era on the south side of the river. The Ohio would later mark the primary dividing line between the South and the North during the Civil War.

While reflecting on American history in his journals, Thwaites also proves to be a keen observer of the present (the “present” being 1894) – a mere 29 years after the Civil War, with poor and displaced “crackers” and “negroes” populating the river towns, left out of the post-war economy, an economy that was quickly passing them by completely as it crossed the Mississippi into the plains. Thwaites, an educated man, and also a northerner, often uses language then common that makes one cringe today, not the least of which was the consistent slander of the period’s latest wave of immigrants: eastern Europeans.

An interesting sub topic in the book is the varieties of river boats. The Thwaites entourage traveled in a home-made cross between the legendary flat boat, and what we would today call a houseboat; while the bulk of river traffic was still carried on steam boats.  In the years just ahead of the trip, the Baltimore & Ohio RR connected with river traffic at Parkersburg, WV. When it “jumped” the Ohio River however, the B&O and other railroads, rapidly came to dominate all shipping, and contributed to the decline of these river towns, because freight and passenger traffic no longer had to follow the waterways.

One has to be a history buff to read this book today, and even with that qualification the phrase “if you’ve seen one river town you’ve seen them all” passed through my mind several times; this despite the fact that Henry David Thoreau was clearly Thwaites’ literary role model. Afloat on the Ohio contains countless descriptions of the river basin’s natural habitat that are detailed, yet poetic.  His descriptions of the “river folk” while not up to Mark Twain’s caliber, are astute none-the-less.

Recommendation:  For history buffs only.

The Hilltop (Hebrew 2013; English 2014) By Assaf Gavron

A common retort from those of us with brothers, while somewhat overstated, is “were it not for our last names, we’d have nothing in common at all.”  Brothers Gabi and Roni Kupper no longer share even that characteristic; Gabi having selected a new, Hebrew name when he moved to the “illegal” settlement of Ma’aleh Hermesh C. What they do share however is the experience of growing up in Israel, post-independence. They are the lead characters in Assaf Gavron's magnificent novel The Hilltop which I dare say will be a classic of Israeli literature.

It’s dangerous for an American gentile like me to posit vast generalities on the State of Israel, or on the Jewish people, so I will try not to do so. But it is important to clarify upfront for readers of this review that Israel is as diverse of a place as one will find on planet Earth. 

We know, or we think we know about the divides -- Likud, Labor, religious, secular, Hasidic, Tel Aviv vs everywhere else, the west bank, the Old City, the Mediterranean, Haifa, the desert, the kibbutz’s and the settlements -- but, we don’t. The genius of Gavron’s book is that he has taken “all of the above” and turned them into people, not factions, and by doing so has shown us their common denominator.

Gavron is not the first author to use brothers to provide different viewpoints on life, but he’s truly mastered the genre with this book. 

Roni and his younger brother Gabi grew up on a Kibbutz near the Golan Heights, raised by an Uncle after the death of their parents in a car accident. Though close as kids, they lead decidedly different parallel lives as adults. Gabi eventually retreats into his religion, and helps found a settlement; while Roni escapes to Tel Aviv, then New York. The book traces their separate lives, and their reunion at Ma’aleh Hermesh C.

There are numerous subplots to this book that are easily stand-alone novels. At one time each of the brothers lived in the U.S. – Gabi working for an Israel fundraising organization, and Roni as an active participant in the “Hummus Forum” (a social networking group of Israelis working on Wall Street). It is Roni’s riches to rags story during the 2008 financial meltdown that lands him on Gabi’s couch in a trailer at the settlement. There they rehash their lives, their relationships, while living through the current political drama of the settlements issue. 

The early chapter on the “status” of the settlement of Ma’aleh Hermesh C is one of the most instructive -- and sadly hysterically funny -- episodes in the book, written as a commentary on the country’s legendary and insane bureaucracy.

The brothers’ lives intersect with dozens of others to provide a panoramic insight to all things Israel. The only position the author takes is that all of them have a belief system that is both situational and personal. To quote a biblical passage used frequently in the book:“though I walk through the valley of the shadow of the death, I will fear no evil for Thou art always with me.” We are all walking through that valley; no one’s journey is the same, no one's journey is superior to any other.

I cannot complement Gavron’s writing enough, his wording, and the structure of the book are near perfect. He seamlessly mixes the philosophy of Rabbi Reb Nachman of Breslov, the rigors of child rearing, running a tavern in Tel Aviv called “Bar BaraBush” named after American First Lady Barbara Bush, the shenanigans of Wall Street, and an online world of avators called Revival: The Second Life (that is engaged in religious warfare, some petty, some catastrophic).

An example of Gavron’s prose:

They reached the entrance to the cave, one of several large caves in the side of the mountain that had served as hideouts for the Maccabees and Romans, for monks and bandits, for shepherds and commando unit fighters and Crusaders; also for foxes, and for porcupines, and for leopards and snakes – for any living creature that passed through that desert at some point in time.

Earlier this year I read an Assaf Gavron short story in a collection titled Tel Aviv Noir.  Loved it, and decided to take on The Hilltop.  I am glad I did, and highly recommend it to others.

The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk (1982) By Randy Shilts

I have re-read The Mayor of Castro Street by Randy Shilts each June since it was it published in 1982, but I have never written a review of it. It is a very personal book for me. I call it my bible.

For gay activists, even ones like me who call ourselves “retired from the frontlines” The Mayor is our collective autobiography. Its subtitle … “The Life and Times …” is us, and though we may not march at the head of the parade any longer, it’s OUR parade. This weekend’s Pride Parade will mark my 41^st. And in reality, gay activists may move to the sidewalks, but we never really retire because just living our lives honestly is a political act.

Several years ago, no, more than that I’m afraid, the late and wonderful Paul Varnell, a nationally syndicated gay newspaper columnist in Chicago and close friend, and I, had the delight of jointly interviewing journalist/author RandyShilts over dinner when he was doing a book tour for his epic And the Band Played On.  During the interview I mentioned to Randy (hard to call him Shilts, he was way too cuddly) the importance of The Mayor to me. He said he wrote The Mayor because “the story” needed to be told, however he had never expected it to have the impact on gay readers that it does. 

Randy Shilts

The story details some of the key chapters in the modern day gay rights movement – a historic sea change that has occurred in our lifetimes. While there are skirmishes yet to be fought, and probably re-fought, the war was effectively won this week with the Supreme Court’s ruling on marriage equality. The promise of "equality under the law" has one meaning, you either have it, or you do not; to me it’s never been a difficult concept to grasp.

How far the gay movement has come, and how difficult the road has been, is what will always remain important about The Mayor.  When Harvey Milk and the rest of us were growing up, being gay wasn’t just considered a “perversion” it was an actual criminal offense. At the time, the idea of gay marriage didn’t even rise to the level of science fiction.

People lost their jobs, and were barred from many occupations. They automatically lost the custody of their children, and were usually even denied visitation. Establishments that served gays were routinely extorted by the police for payoffs, and then raided anyway, with the names of those arrested published in newspapers. So-called “professionals” considered barbaric electric shock therapy a “cure.” Gay kids were routinely thrown out by their parents, ostracized and bullied and beaten by their peers. Religious figures made profitable careers out of preaching hatred, and (ironically) called gay men pedophiles. Our relationships were not considered “real” relationships, no matter how many years they had existed. And our government knowingly ignored AIDS until it became an uncontrollable epidemic that began impacting others. And throughout all of this, most -- but not all -- of straight America stood by silently, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening all around them.  

As we celebrate its demise, it is important that we never lose this history. 

The Mayor is the book I always recommend to non-gay people because it, better than any other, describes chapters of American history that they are probably unaware of, even though they lived through it. And its story, our story, my story -- is what I want every young gay person to know, to be proud of, and to never forget.  

Bananas (UK, 2007) By Peter Chapman

Bananas are ubiquitous to comedy – think Woody Allen’s 1971 drug cult classic, or the chorus from The Divine Miss M’s song Twisted (because two heads are better than one), or the Marx Bros. But, this book is not about comedy.  This book is about an early trial run at globalization and so-called "Free Trade" agreements, Reagan, Bush, Clinton & Obama style. And, it's no joke. Bananas, a book by a London-based financial reporter named Peter Chapman, is a decidedly unauthorized biography of the United Fruit Company, the remnants of which are today known as Chiquita.

Chapman’s book, the culmination of a thesis, is a 20^th century history of that aspect of American imperialism that gave the term “banana republic” its present day meaning. And the book is comprehensive, it covers everything from United Fruit’s marketing campaigns, to its supply chain, its internal politics, its overthrowing of Central American governments in alliance with the CIA, the Bay of Pigs, and the Panama Canal. And, it includes an eclectic cast of characters ranging from Teddy Roosevelt, to Carmen Miranda, to Howard Hunt of Watergate notoriety.

It’s the supply chain aspect that led me to this book, if I can digress for a moment. One of my sisters and her husband recently moved to the Kentucky Lake area. In investigating ways to get to and from their new place from Chicago where I live, I looked at Amtrak’s City of New Orleans train (which I’ve traveled on many times). The station nearest their new home is in Fulton, Kentucky. As I’m prone to do, I looked up Fulton on Wikipedia.  I discovered it once billed itself as “The Banana Capital of the World.”  Say what?

It seems that the supply chain for 80% of the bananas shipped to North America used to make a stop in Fulton. In the first half of the twentieth century, bananas were shipped north from the Port of New Orleans on the Illinois Central Gulf Railroad to Chicago, then dispersed east and west. But, early rail refrigeration cars were cooled by blocks of ice, which tended to melt as they passed through the hot and humid South, making it only as far as Fulton before having to be repacked with new blocks of ice – hence, bananas were rather important to the town’s economy. Keep that tidbit of history in mind next time you watch Jeopardy!

   

Back to the book …

Despite my flippancy, this really is a good and frighteningly relevant book. I’m a strong believer that what is wrong with the current political situation in America is that every level of government, regardless of partisan affiliation, has been completely taken over by corporate robber barons.  United Fruit’s history is a how-to manual on that subject. Likewise, our twentieth century foreign policy in Central America was unquestionably dictated by officials in the United Fruit Company, with scare tactics about communist insurgencies (also known as poor people believing in self-rule).  This “Big Banana” pattern is striking similar to how "Big Oil" today dictates American foreign policy in the Persian Gulf, Libya, and Venezuela. Returning to my flippancy ... Bananas offers ample food for thought on the political history front. 

Recommendation:  Yes for history buffs, or anyone working on a marketing degree.

The Decapitated Chicken and Other Stories (Spanish, 1937 - 1945; English 1976) By Horacio Quiroga

Well, it was the title that caught my eye: The Decapitated Chicken and Other Stories by Horacio Quiroga. Who could resist? My eye caught the title when it was mentioned in a post on a friend’s Facebook page. I had to investigate. At first I thought it was a joke, particularly when I heard it described as a classic of Spanish literature. But yes, it is.

The book is a collection of short stories written by Horacio Quiroga, who was born in Uruguary, and spent much of his adult life “across the river” in Buenos Aries. His passion however was for the far north Misiones region of Argentina (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Misiones_Province ). The Misiones is a tropical environment, the edge of the vast jungle that dominates much of central South America. It’s called the Misiones because it was “founded” by Jesuit missionaries – Pope Francis incidentally, from Argentina, is a Jesuit.

There are 12 short stories in the collection, best categorized as gothic. 

All will unnerve you.  Many of Quiroga’s stories have lead characters that are animals. Imagine Charlotte’s Web or Animal Farm, but written by Edgar Allan Poe. Another three or four of the selections detail individuals at death’s door. The Raven would have many friends in Quiroga's works.

The Decapitated Chicken, the title story, is short. It involves allegedly human characters, and is utterly gruesome.This is not bed-time reading, but I can’t tell you why without giving a spoiler alert. There is also superb a short story about a boy named Juan Darien who is actually a tiger. He returns to his tiger self after being witch-hunted in his village.  

My favorite from the collection is Anaconda, though now having read it I’ll probably have nightmares for years. It details the convening of a Congress of snakes and vipers (yes, there is apparently a difference) to devise a plan of attack against four humans who are plotting against them, trying to make the jungle safe for humans.  The Congress includes an Anaconda, the “top dog” among South American snakes, and a King Cobra, transplanted from India, who plays the same role in the “vipers” contingent.  They will eventually battle for control.

Talking animals or not, Anaconda is neither a children’s book nor a zoology study.The book is an allegory on the political history of the region, in much the same way as Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, or even The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.  I must confess however that South American political history is not one of my strong suits.  And in all honesty, I’d much rather be tied down by a bunch of Lilliputans than surrounded by snakes and vipers.

Recommendation:  If one a student of Spanish language literature, yes; if one is an Edgar Allan Poe fan, definitely; but if one has a problem with snakes and vipers, maybe not.

The General Danced at Dawn (1970) By George MacDonald Fraser

 

George MacDonald Fraser (1925 – 2008) was a rather well known author in the United Kingdom, though I had never even heard of him until receiving The General Danced at Dawn as a gift from a friend recently, with the recommendation “I think you’ll like it.” He was absolutely right.

Fraser was a veteran of the Highland Regiments, having served throughout the British Empire, including India, North African and the Middle East. His prolific writings chronicle life in the armed services. He apparently was/is widely popular in the UK as the author of a series of books known as The Flashman Papers.

Fraser’s character development is just amazing! He’s invented some staples of modern British literary pop culture including: an extremely colorful soldier named Private McAuslan, dubbed “the Dirtiest Soldier in the World;” daft Bob; and their commanding officer Dand MacNeill, who serves as the narrator throughout. And of course, the book wouldn’t be complete without the appearance of Regimental Sergeant-Major Mackintosh, the very archetype of a British military commander, one who could conduct an armed invasion without wrinkling his kilt, then insist on breaking for tea when it was over. His soldiers however, are more likely to favor whiskeys of the Scottish variety, and scoff at that American concoction known as “borboun” – sacrilege indeed.

Much of the narrative is in “the northern dialects,” a.k.a. Scottish-Gaelic, and virtually incomprehensible to anyone who believes in vowels. These tracts often brought my reading speed down to about one syllable per minute. The multiple (varying by clan) dialects play a significant role in these stories, and are completely enjoyable once you stop resisting them, it’s not English per se, not even Old English, get over it, but do read it.

The collection contains 9 short stories. Reading them in sequence is important to the character development. All are good, particularly the title story The General Danced at Dawn. My favorites though are the two concluding stories: Guard at the Castle, when MacNeill has to contend with “the Dirtiest Soldier in the World” while presenting guard at Edinburgh Castle during a visit by “the royals;” and McAuslan’s Court-Martial, a story written around a pillow fight at the Highland Games. 
 
Great Stuff!

Gray Mountain (2014) By John Grisham

I may have my proverbial “library card” taken away from me for admitting this, but Gray Mountain published last year, and read by me last week, is the first John Grisham book I’ve ever read. Despite the predictability of its plot, add me to his fan club. Gray Mountain is a quick read, because the writing makes you want to turn the page.

The lead character is named Samantha. She’s a career climbing, workaholic attorney specializing in commercial real estate deals at a major Manhattan law firm … and she makes a more than a compensatory salary. But she’s also an aspiring attorney, not a partner, so when the meltdown of the financial markets strikes in 2008, it leaves her and many of her colleagues unemployed. I’m not shedding any tears so far.  

She ends up deciding to ride out the recession by working at a legal aid clinic in Appalachia, as an unpaid intern, but only until she can return to NYC and rejoin Big Law.  

Problem is, she’s never set foot in a courtroom … never tried a case – hasn’t a clue about litigation. In fact, while she’s well versed in multi-million dollar real estate contract deals, she’s never even thought about the legal problems faced by “ordinary” folks like those in Brady, Virginia – the heart of coal mining country. They have issues like divorce, domestic violence, contested black lung disease claims, over-zealous collection firms, housing evictions & foreclosures, and endless other problems that are about day to day survival.

Samantha, city girl, rich girl, is at a loss.

Mattie, the nuts & bolts Attorney who heads the Mountain Legal Aid Clinic, begins to educate her intern. Mattie has seen it all, and while she is cautious and realistic, she’s not particularly afraid of anyone.

Oh yeah, the other plot. Mattie’s nephew is in fact a hotshot litigation attorney – with a personal axe to grind against the coal companies who are strip mining his birthright away, and who he holds responsible for the death of his mother and so many others. He views successful legal settlements or judgments not so much as bank deposits, but as social justice.  

Of course, he ends up dead.

Will Samantha stay in coal country when her internship ends? It’s the crux of the book, never a forgone conclusion, and you aren’t going to know until the final chapter.

Recommendation: Definitely. First, it’s a great book written by a master storyteller. And second, it’s an education on black lung disease, strip mining, jobs versus health, union busting, and how the system is stacked against the little guy, with the near complete collusion of government. Work in a social service agency? If so, this is your book.