Prose

Some time ago, while reading a history of the Wars of the Roses, I saw that Edward IV’s queen, Elizabeth Woodville, died in 1492. By this time, Henry VII was on the throne, and he will soon be succeeded by his son, Henry VIII. The Wars of the Roses, which had occupied much of England’s 15th century, were over. Elizabeth Woodville, I thought, was the last medieval. Read more about 1492

That’s where David Malouf found room to write his wonderful little novel, . Between the lines of Book XXIV of the Iliad, Malouf has drawn prose pictures of Achilles and King Priam, culminating in the King ransoming the body of his son, Hector, from his killer. In the process, he creates a hero of Priam, a king who wins one battle not with weapons but with an idea. Read more about Between the Lines

I am not the first one to connect Nicola Griffith’s to Hilary Mantel’s , but I did make the connection independently. Both books give me hope that there is a new appreciation for what I’ve come to call “immersive fiction.” Fiction that doesn’t necessarily hinge on a plot or an all-consuming conflict. Read more about Hild

Z is also for Zelda, as in , by Therese Anne Fowler.*

Unfortunately for Zelda, the novel held, for me, little more than a bunch of hot air. I was hoping for more than that. Zelda Fitzgerald deserves more than that. Read more about Z is for Zeppelin

The good news is that it’s all different from last year’s.

Published in 1971, this can be a hard book to find. I found a used copy in very good condition through Amazon, and I'm liking it very much. The "Express" of the title is the Mombasa-Nairobi railroad built in the early 20th century, infamous for attacks from the Lions of Tsavo, who feasted on a variety of African railway workers and even a few white guys. Read more about Reading List, October, 2015

There are things worse than communism, it turned out, and in Iraq we brought them about ourselves. I say this as someone who supported regime change.

“The men in our realm shall have and hold all the aforesaid liberties, rights and concessions well and peacefully, freely and quietly, fully and completely for them and their heirs of us and our heirs in all things and places forever.” Magna Carta, Clause 63

There are many illustrations sprinkled throughout Orhan Pamuk's , all of them in black and white, so that everything, the city, the family, Orhan Pamuk himself, looks like figures cut out of old travelogues or forgotten Kokak prints found at the back of a bottom desk drawer. Read more about A Study in Black and White

If we in America know Colette at all, we know her through Gigi, the 1954 movie starring Leslie Caron and Louis Jourdan, and featuring the now problematic little song, Thank Heaven for Little Girls, performed by the inimitable Maurice Chevalier. I like it anyway. Read more about Colette, Again

reads rather like a glimpse into the lives of the passengers on the HMS Titanic. As a matter of fact, toward the end of the narrative, Elinor Glyn, one of Ms. Nicolson’s cast of characters, thinks to start a new life in New York and very nearly books passage on the pride of the White Star Line. Her sister goes without her, and survives the journey. Read more about The Perfect Summer