Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl **** 1/2

Gone Girl is a page-turner murder mystery, with all of the hallmarks of the genre: disreputable narrators, cliff-hanger chapter endings, ominous characters, and exciting plot twists that strain the edge of believability. It transcends its genre, however, by taking the time to create full-blooded main characters (Anne and Nick Dunne) and a realistic marriage. The first section of the book is as concerned about the nature of Anne and Nick's relationship as is it with the mystery of Anne's disappearance on their fifth wedding anniversary.

Flynn's writing has a literary flair that contrasts with the straightforward sardonic tone of most murder mysteries. She mostly avoids the embarrassing dialogue that plagues the genre — the only exception is the chapter in which Nick prepares for a TV interview; the lawyer and his wife engage in "adorable" banter that feels out of place.

I didn't just follow the twists and turns of the thriller, I gained insights about the nature of marriage!

Nicholas Tomalin and Ron Hall, The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst *** 1/2

The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst relates the true story of an Englishman who, in 1969, faked a solo circumnavigation and disappeared as he approached the finish line. He left without sufficient preparation but felt compelled by circumstances to continue. He stayed in the Atlantic while reporting (vague) positions in the Southern Ocean, then started reporting his true position after other competitors had passed him. The sailors in front of him started having problems, leaving him as the apparent victor. The stress of his deception drove him mad.

It's a fascinating story, well told. The book was written just a few years after the events, so the authors expect readers to be familiar with the outlines of the story. As someone who didn't know the final outcome, I would have preferred for the story to build to its climax instead of revealing the ending in the prologue. I also think the authors overplay Crowhurst's ineptness in light of future events; a couple of short appendices reveal him to be a more capable sailor and designer than the authors give him credit for.

Kij Johnson, At the Mouth of the River of Bees ****

The stories in this collection were originally published in Asimov's Magazine and Realms of Fantasy and so on, but it's hard to classify them as science fiction or fantasy even if they do feature magical foxes, world-destroying microbots, and yes, a river of bees. The author is far more interested in feelings than in science, even when her characters are technocrats like "The Man Who Bridged the Mist."

As with any collection of stories, I enjoyed some more than others. My favorites were "26 Monkeys, Also the Abyss" (happily the first story in the book), "Fox Magic," "The Cat Who Walked a Thousand Miles," and the title story. They all used fantastic elements to explore the same themes as realistic stories do: dealing with death, the nature of community, and what we do for love. They also have lovely, unforgettable images in them.

My least favorite stories were the most experimental ones, "Spar," "Ponies," and "Names for Water." Conveniently, these were also the shortest stories.

Peter Zuckerman and Amanda Padoan, Buried in the Sky ***

Buried in the Sky tells the true story of the disastrous day in 2008 when eleven climbers died on K2. It differs from Into Thin Air and other similar books in that it focuses largely on the support climbers, the Nepalese and Pakastani climbers.

The climbing descriptions are actually fairly lackluster, at least for frequent readers of mountaineering literature. Viewing the story through the local climbers provides a distinctive perspective though. I learned about the cultural backgrounds of the various ethnicities that work as "sherpas," and how Western climbers tend to ignore the differences at their peril. One contributing factor in the tragedy occurred when the team of support climbers setting fixed lines through The Bottleneck was left without a common language.

Ben Marcus, The Age of Wire and String ** 1/2

Ben Marcus is the author of Notable American Women and The Flame Alphabet. His prose is exceedingly experimental, but as I say in my reviews, Marcus has a tenderness that shines through the avant-garde style. The Age of Wire and String lacks that human touch, and therefore feels merely intellectual and clever.

My feelings about The Age of Wire and String are remarkably similar to my feelings about Whites, which I read right before it. Despite the vast differences between them, both are first books by authors whose subsequent books I enjoyed, and in both cases the primary enjoyment I derived from them was the ways in which they anticipated the later novels. Much of the imagery in The Age of Wire and String anticipates Notable American Women, which is the better book.

Norman Rush, Whites ***

This short collection of stories is like the extra features on the DVD for Mating or Mortals: deleted scenes or early shorts. The flavor is similar, and you can see the seeds of ideas that recur in the novels. The first story even shares a narrator with Mating, although her voice is very different. Rush's style is not fully formed yet, except for his descriptive powers. 

The book was enjoyable as a supplement to the novels rather than as a standalone collection. 

Sharon Bertsch McGrayne, The Theory that Would Not Die ** 1/2

A disappointing history of Bayes' Rule, the insight at the heart of much modern statistical analysis and extremely relevant to Google. In her quest to appeal to general readers, McGrayne doesn't do a good job of explaining the rule or how it is applied. I got only a very vague idea of how Bayesians differ from frequentists.

The main message that I took from the book is that Bayesian inference has many practical applications but is (or was) anathema to statisticians who demand mathematical rigor. The secondary message is that Bayesian reasoning requires computer power, which is one of the reasons it took so long for it to gain acceptance.

The book is more interesting as an example of how personalities and academic in-fighting influence the course of scientific progress. The development of statistics as a discipline flows from a few strong individuals, and if they didn't like Bayes' Rule then it wasn't a proper object of study. The stories of non-statisticians using Bayesian reasoning -- to break the Enigma code in World War II, to set reasonable insurance rates, to locate objects lost at sea -- were entertaining in their own right, but didn't illuminate the central topic.

The long list of interesting applications in the final chapter just made me more frustrated that I didn't understand the theory!