Kathleen DuVal, Independence Lost *** 1/2

Independence Lost is a history of the American Revolution told from the perspective of people living just outside of the thirteen rebelling colonies, on the Gulf Coast. Florida was a non-rebellious British colony; the Spanish has recently taken Louisiana from the French, and various Indian Nations were trying to maintain good relations with the various empires that surrounded them. How would the rebellion affect the livelihoods of all these constituencies?

This unique perspective provides an enlightening contrast to traditional accounts of the war. For one thing, it reminds us that the revolution was part of a wider war between the European powers: Spain took advantage of Britain's distraction to win back parts of its empire. It also shows how unlikely American success was, even after the war was over.

On the downside, however, DuVal's writing style often sounds like a high-school textbook. Lots of sociological generalization ("Men and women depended on a web of economic, social, and political connections that provided stability and opportunity even as they limited complete freedom of action") and fact clusters that sound like the answers to questions on the weekly quiz ("Behind Galvez's back, Pollock urged Congress to use Willing's brief 1778 seizures of Natchez and Manchac and Captain Pickles's success on the lakes to claim ownership of what Spanish troops had just taken..."). 

Martin Seay, The Mirror Thief *****

The author biography on the last page says, "Martin Seay is the executive secretary for the village of Wheeling, Illinois. The Mirror Thief is his first novel." Seay's lack of literary pedigree makes The Mirror Thief an even more impressive achievement.

The Mirror Thief tells three connected stories. In 2003, an ex-Marine named Curtis checks into the Venetian in Las Vegas on a quest to locate a gambler who owns his employer money; in 1958, a younger version of that gambler has come to Venice California in search of the author of a mysterious book (called The Mirror Thief) that has captured his imagination; in 1592, the titular character plans to steal the secrets of mirror-making from the Republic of Venice. The stories echo each other both in terms of plot and of incidental images. Lots of reflections, silver, and water.

It's a long book (572 pages) with a complex structure, ambitious themes, and colorful prose littered with obscure vocabulary. This description makes it sound difficult, but I found it very readable. Many readers may feel like there's not enough action, but I enjoyed its world- and character-building. Almost every page had a sentence or image that caught my attention. Seay is particularly good at choosing metaphors that paint a vivid picture and deepen a character at the same time. 

Susan Neiman, Moral Clarity *** 1/2

In this Guide for Grown-Up Idealists, Neiman suggests that the modern left in the United States has ceded talk of ideals to the right.

They've seen too many frameworks abused. Rules conceived as universal values have too often been used as sugarcoated ways of forcing one people's will on another. ... The resolve not to impose your moral worldview by force often ends with the resolve to make no judgments at all.

Conservatives base their worldview on Hobbes and his raw power struggle of all against all, and liberals have largely accepted this base view of human nature as well. Neiman believes that this situation drives people to fundamentalism, because fundamentalism provides a vision of transcendence missing from everyday lives: "if our need for transcendence isn't satisfied by the right kind of ideals, we may turn to the wrong ones."

And so she recommends a return to the key Enlightenment values of happiness, reason, reverence, and hope. I was inspired by the section where she discusses these ideals, mostly because of how her tone embodied the ideals. Her portrait of Kant is quite different and more joyful than any I've seen before. Unfortunately, though, when she comes to apply her principles in contemporary scenarios, she comes across as naive and judgmental in a way she promised we would not.

Josiah Thompson, Gumshoe ** 1/2

Josiah Thompson was a forty-something philosophy professor when he had a midlife crisis of sorts and decided to become a detective. Gumshoe is his account of learning the trade.

I read this (now out-of-print) book back when it was published in the late 1980s. I held onto it for its descriptions of real-life detective work: surveillance, custody disputes, serving subpoenas, and so on. The stories from his early day especially made it easy to imagine doing these activities myself.

I didn't remember how awkward Thompson's writing is. One particularly annoying tic is a confusing treatment of time. An example from near the end:

Before Dick arrived, [Asha] sat on the floor making chapatis for the Indian meal Neva and Ruth had prepared. Nancy and I tried to help but ended up getting in the way. Asha circled the table, chattering nonstop as she doled out chapatis, while the rest of us worked on the curry and sauces, washed down by the champagne Dick brought. Then she handed a jar of chutney to Dick.

Dick's arrival is in the future for the first two sentences, in the past for the last two. In his attempts to start stories in medias res he frequently stutters back in time two or three levels. He's in a restaurant talking to a woman... who his partner introduced to him in the office three days before... to discuss something that happened a month before that. It's confusing.

The aspect I liked the first time I read the book –– the mundane details of detective work –– was less compelling now due to the passage of time. If I were to become a detective today, or write a story about a regular guy doing detective-y things, I wouldn't need to think about whether I should stop watching a suspect's apartment long enough to find a public pay phone.

Robert Coover, The Brunist Day of Wrath ** 1/2

Coover published this sequel to The Origin of the Brunists near fifty years after the first book, although it takes place just five years later. It shares some of the original's strengths –– especially Coover's talent for pulling together multiple perspectives and narrative threads –– but it is waaaaaay too long (1100 pages) and the characters and incidents drift too far into satirical hyperbole.

Joseph Kanon, Istanbul Passage ****

It has been a while since I last read an espionage thriller even though it used to be one of my favorite genres. Istanbul Passage was an enjoyable return. The spy business was not as convoluted as it often is, allowing the story to focus more on the characters and the setting. As the author says in the interview at the end of the book, Istanbul Passage is "not genre fiction, but character-based literature set in the world of espionage."

I appreciated that the characters' decision-making always seemed reasonable instead of plot-driven. No one said, "I have something vital to tell you, but wait until tomorrow." The only element that felt like a plot contrivance was the medical condition of Leon's wife. I remember Istanbul well enough that I could picture the major locales.

I definitely recommend it.

Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson, Mo'Meta Blues ****

Questlove has a nice casual writing style, first demonstrated in his liner notes for Roots albums. Mo'Meta Blues is a memoir of sorts, although the best parts are when he uses an incident from his life as a springboard for more abstract musings. He has insightful views on the music business and on the role of hip-hop in culture. He relates fun anecdotes about meeting other artists, most notably a visit to Stevie Wonder's hotel and roller skating with Prince. Tantalizing record reviews too.

The book is full of interesting asides; in the first few pages, for example, he refers to the Roots as "the last hip-hop band" because:

Twenty-five years ago, rap acts were mostly groups. You had Run DMC and the Beastie Boys and Public Enemy, ... but today it's all solo acts.

Another one from near the end: The day after Michael Jackson died, the Roots played his songs on the Tonight Show.

Usually, they would be too expensive to use, but there is a special stipulation, a death memorandum, that grants a 48-hour grace period where songs can be used for a standard rate for news purposes.

The book starts to feel fragmented as it approaches the present, and even includes a chapter from the co-writer admitting that "there's less perspective" (part of the meta- from the title).