The Brass Verdict, by Michael Connelly

The "Lincoln Lawyer" returns. After a year's hiatus, during which time defense attorney Mickey Haller goes through rehab and stays straight, Haller is abruptly thrown back into the world of law when a fellow attorney is murdered. Haller takes over most of the cases, including the "franchise": a prominent film producer accused of murdering his wife and her lover.

In addition to having to get up to speed quickly, to sort out what is going on in each of the cases, Haller is concerned that his own life may be threatened. In part for this reason and in part because the murdered attorney had been his friend, Haller begrudgingly lets LAPD detective Harry Bosch in. Haller wants the murderer caught as much as Bosch does, but is limited by law in what he can do to help Bosch. Their alliance is an uneasy one but one that seems to develop into almost a mutual respect.

As is the case with other Connelly novels, this one is replete with the details, is exacting in getting them right. Thus we can step right into Haller's shoes and feel the pressure as he takes steps to reconstruct a calendar, to track down clients. We also can breathe with him as he resumes his habit of working out of his Lincoln Town cars (three of them, rotated), watching the Suitcase City pass by as he is driven from one appointment to another.

It was a pleasure to read a Mickey Haller novel in which Bosch figures so prominently. It gives us a different perspective on the sometimes-explosive man-on-a-mission. It was also a pleasure to get to know Haller better, to follow his efforts to get back into the real world and perhaps to take steps to win his ex-wife back.

Away, by Amy Bloom

An extraordinary book. Small and simply written, this tale of Lilian Leyb is also poetic, beautiful, and full of characters we can believe in even as we laugh at their unexpected actions. Most of all, the character of Lillian is solid, strong, far from perfect yet yes, perfect.

Lillian finds herself in Manhattan with nothing but an address pinned to her coat. She speaks no English but does speak Russian and Yiddish and lands in New York in 1924, during the period when to be a seamstress means you can live. She has already been through hell in Russia, losing her family to horrific violence. Perhaps the lessons of that time are part of what keeps her going, adjusting to turns of events and accepting what she must accept, yet single-mindedly doing what she herself knows she must do.

Eventually Lillian sets out to return to Russia to find her little daughter, and her route takes her across the country and up through Canada and beyond. On this "road trip" unlike any other road trip she meets many people, as important as those she left behind in Russia and New York. Each time Lillian sets off again we learn the future, sketched lovingly, of each of these friends, a bonus that usually made me smile.

The details of Lillian's life in New York, her trip across country, her walk into the Yukon, are alive with a sense of reality. We can walk in her shoes even though for us it doesn't hurt.

My Lobotomy: A Memoir, by Howard Dully and Charles Fleming

I expected to like this book. I have done a great deal of reading about mental illness and the horrors that pass as cures, including lobotomy. Seeing lobotomy from the patient’s perspective is a rarity.

The story is certainly compelling. The telling of it is not. I suspect that a combination of the natural talents of Howard Dully and his co-writer, along with the effects of the lobotomy, is why the book is not all it could be. The book is unnecessarily repetitious, which takes away a lot of its power. Much of it is also infused with an adolescent point of view. I had the disturbing feeling that Howard Dully is a 50-something teenager. Or perhaps now a young adult.

I have heard that alcoholics tend to be stuck chronologically where they first became alcoholics. So if they were teens, that’s where they stay until such time as they burst free of the addiction, insofar as one can. It seems to me that the same might be said for this particular lobotomy. It was performed on Howard as a 12-year-old and his thoughts and actions for years afterwards mirror the feelings and impressions of a 12-year-old.

I became impatient with the explanations. Howard, as a young teen in Agnews, the mental hospital, did not know when he would get out. His reaction, therefore, was to “have fun”. Because he did not know nor was he able to control his future, he felt his only option was to have fun. This attitude, along with the lack of any real training for the real world, is what got him into trouble year after year. It also was the reason I had trouble liking Howard as I listened to this CD version of the book.

He recognizes, late in the book, that it was the lack of preparation for work or life outside that got him in trouble so often. Is this a common experience for people in similar situations? Those who are young and placed in mental institutions for a relatively short time? It seems an astounding lack of foresight on the part of the caretakers. How can you expect somebody to do well on the outside without the necessary skills? Even in prison inmates get an opportunity to train for some work.

The part of the book that is especially disturbing is the treatment of Howard by his stepmother Lou. The unfortunate combination of a distant father (emotionally), who does not share significant information or thoughts with his son, and a distrusting, disapproving stepmother who singled Howard out, was bound to have a significant effect on Howard’s behavior as a young child. He was beaten daily by either or both parents, he was not told of his real mother’s death when it happened (she just “left”), and it seemed to make no difference what he did. It makes sense that he acted out, that he rebelled, he made good on what his parents accused him of. When Lou took it upon herself to press for the lobotomy, Howard had nobody in his corner.

As I listened to the CDs I was also affected by the manner in which the book was read. It is not read by Howard, but by a skilled reader, who reads an attitude into the words. I was not fond of the way he read it and wondered if I would feel differently about the book if I had read the paper version. Therefore, I sought out information online, and especially looked for the NPR program featuring Howard. It was easy to find: NPR program

In this radio program we get to hear Howard narrate and talk to lobotomy experts and others affected by lobotomy. We get to hear the real Howard speak. His voice has almost a monotone quality to it, which is something I might expect of a person who has undergone a lobotomy. When he is emotionally caught up we can tell by the hesitation and difficulty speaking, so his delivery is not actually “flat”. I wonder if I would have liked the book better if it had been actually read by Howard. I think it’s possible, because it would have felt more real.

I am glad I had the opportunity to listen to this book, which I had not even heard of before I saw it on the list of books in a virtual book box through bookcrossing. It gave me a lot to think about. I do wish it had been more skillfully written, yet it is hard to see how it could have been done without changing the character of Howard Dully.

So Brave, Young, and Handsome, by Lief Enger

This book became almost like an old friend to me. The chapters are short, so I could grab and gulp one down quickly in odd moments, and set it aside, feeling a sense of accomplishment. At the same time, of course, by picking up and letting down I didn't fully become engaged with the characters early. Or maybe it's just that kind of book: easy to read yet easy to set aside.

At least at first. The characters are intriguing, yet were difficult for me to get to know, especially the narrator, Monte Becket.

The story takes place around the turn of the century, in the early 1900s. Becket wrote an adventure novel that quickly became a best-seller, in spite of his lack of knowledge of the subject matter. He didn't know horses or adventure, yet his novel was about a western hero who triumphs over difficult odds by knowing how to ride, how to track, how to make love. The pulp fiction of the day.

Monte lives in Minnesota with his beautiful artist wife and observant young son. After the success of his novel he quits his job at the post office and tries to make a living at writing, yet he can no longer seem to find the words. Thus, he is feeling like a failure when a neighbor, Glendon Dobie, suggests he join him on a trip to Mexico to find the wife he left behind decades before. The neighbor is a bit of an unknown, but has found a way into the hearts of Monte's family, so Monte's wife urges him to go.

And thus begins an adventure for real. The trip doesn't go as planned in almost every way. Monte finds himself in situations that might have made good novel fodder if he'd been so inclined to use it. He is also challenged to find out more about himself, as so often happens in road stories.

I did not particularly like Monte until nearly the middle of the book. I didn't get a good feel for him, it seemed I couldn't grasp his essence, and what I did grasp I didn't particularly like. Yet by that time, the middle of the book, he began to change, or he began to assert those qualities of his that perhaps his wife knew and he had forgotten. From there on his decisions seem to be more outward - for the benefit of others - than internal.

Through much of the book, Monte and Glendon are pitted against a former Pinkerton's detective, bounty hunter Charles Siringo. As the novel progresses, Siringo assumes more and more presence and becomes almost a super-human adversary, seemingly evil to the core, yet...not?

Interesting, complex characters. A road show that almost assumes epic proportions. A story of a kind of redemption, finally, for more than one character.

The Private Patient, by P.D. James: audio version

There is always something different about listening to a book as opposed to reading it. I enjoy listening to audio books as I drive around town and especially when I am on a long trip, but the experience is very different from reading one at my leisure, when I can ruminate over a passage or reread a section easily.

I admit that I did not hear - or absorb - every word on this CD set. Certainly I didn't skip any parts, but at times my mind went elsewhere while driving and I missed a bit here or there. Not much, I suspect, but perhaps some sentences that were important.

As is typical with P.D. James' novels featuring Adam Dalgliesh of Scotland Yard, this one starts with the characters central to the plot, in particular with the murder victim herself. And we know right off that she is the one. Rhoda Gradwyn, an investigative reporter in her mid-forties, meets with a plastic surgeon, George Chandler-Powell, to have him remove a scar that has been on her face since childhood. She chooses to have the work done at a manor house that has been converted to a part-time clinic. The surgeon divides his time between London and Cheverell Manor, keeping the manor available for very private - and generally very rich - clients.

When she meets with Chandler-Powell she tells him only that she wants the scar removed because she "no longer has need of it". Chandler-Powell is struck by the explanation but does not ask further questions. Throughout the book I looked for the reason but was never satisfied that I'd got it. I may have missed a connection somewhere.

Subsequent to a lengthy description of Gradwyn's preliminary stay at the manor (to get the feel of it) and her activities leading up to the day of the surgery, as well as a venture into her childhood, we meet the employees at Cheverell Manor, one or two at a time, find out how they came to be there and what their feelings are at the time.

Thus we don't get to the main action until disk 4 (out of 12).

It is rather satisfying to meet the characters this way rather than after the murder. We get a better sense of them and can follow them as they react to the murder and can consider who might have done the deed. We also get to see them through the eyes of Commander Adam Dalgliesh (A.D. to Kate, his subordinate), a quicker scan of how they appear then.

As well as we did get to know Rhoda I felt much was left out. She was private in more than one sense and as Dalgliesh considered later in the book, perhaps it is arrogant to hope to understand the motives of others. We do know she met with a young gentleman friend, Robin, who is excited about her visit to the manor and who mentions that he is a cousin of the assistant surgeon. He wants to visit Rhoda while she is there but she is emphatic that she will not welcome any visitors. I get the sense that she accepts Robin as an occasional dinner partner but is not interested in his ventures nor in becoming better friends. I sense she doesn't have close friends although she does have admirers.

A.D., Kate, and Benton, from Scotland Yard, arrive soon after the murder is discovered. They have been called in because somebody at the manor has connections and wants the best. They set off to interview everyone in the manor, to investigate the mysterious nighttime comings and goings of somebody, and down the line to follow up on other leads.

As is typical of old-style English mysteries, the only realistic suspects are the small group living at or on the grounds of the manor. James' mysteries differ from the old style, however, in the development of the characters of the main investigators, in the changes that enter their lives. It is perhaps better to read these novels in sequence, whereas with Agatha Christie, for example, it does not matter.

A.D. is looking forward to his marriage with Emma. At the same time, Kate manages to maintain an attraction to him and perhaps a better understanding of the whole man, but she knows the attraction is not returned. Unlike characters in other novels I have read, Kate does not pine and agonize and try to get A.D. to fall for her. She knows where she stands and she accepts it.

After the various twists and turns have resolved, in a sense, and the case is solved, once again we get a glimpse of the different characters and where they have gone, how their lives have changed. A rather neat wrap.

book rating:

Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell

Malcolm Gladwell loves studies and statistics. He hunts down the lesser-known and bends them to his will - in a good way!

In this book, Gladwell takes on the myth of the self-made man (or woman). He treks down various roads: the roads of birth dates, birth years, cultural backgrounds, and especially the road of opportunities. He finds connections between these elements and the potential for success in different fields. He shows how in hockey and several other sports, the month of birth is critical to the person's access to special opportunities that can lead to success. He follows airline pilots in different countries and shows how the cultural background of each can affect the number of accidents involving the pilots.

He takes us to the life of 13-year-old Bill Gates and shows how Gates was uniquely positioned to reach the pinnacle of power he now has.

In essence, he shows us how individual success is actually the success of a community, of circumstance, of the luck of birth far more than it is of a person simply working hard - but notes that working hard is always at the heart of it nevertheless.

What's more important is that when we understand these elements we can effect changes so that these opportunities are available to a greater number of persons. We might even find hints here for the raising of our children.

Remainder, by Tom McCarthy

A young man - I do not recall ever learning his name - is involved in a strange accident and comes out of it not quite whole. He has all his limbs but he isn't able to use them as fluidly as in the past. Like a person with cerebral palsy (or, I suspect, other brain injuries), he has to learn to tell his muscles to take certain actions. He starts by imagining eating a carrot, learning every tiny step of the process of choosing, lifting, and finally eating the carrot. Then he learns to walk again.

Our character has friends but seems distant from them, not connected. He starts to notice that he is aware of himself, perhaps super-aware, of every move he makes. The injury presumably brought about this condition. At first he thinks he is alone with the condition but then observes others and concludes that just about everyone is somehow "acting" as they go about life. He yearns for the fluidity of natural movement, unconscious connection to the world.

While I found I did not particularly like the main character I could relate to his feelings in this sense. I have always been aware of myself, of watching myself, even down to a sense of how my lips feel when I move them, and certainly I can't stop myself from noticing how I react to others. For me this "observer" gets in the way of my being "real" and I am always second-guessing my actions. I have used unusual methods to counteract it, ways to release myself from that observer. So I understand how much this character wants to get past his.

His way of doing it puts this book into an entirely different realm.

Our fellow takes to "re-enactments". He has received a substantial settlement for his injuries so he has the money to do whatever takes his fancy. It begins when he wants to re-create an apartment building that he vaguely remembers. Did the building ever exist? We never find that out. We only know he feels he was "authentic" when he lived there and he seeks to find that authenticity by duplicating the entire building and surroundings.

He finds help and it really becomes, in a way, a two-person pursuit, with a staff of hundreds.

Yet for all that he doesn't pursue any real relationships with others. And his regard for others, while often generous, is also fleeting.

It's a book that is hard to put down. McCarthy has unleashed those dark and funny dreams here.