Gone Feral: Tracking My Dad Through the Wild by Novella Carpenter

In Farm City, Novella Carpenter showed us her life as a counter-culture innovator farming without permission on a vacant lot in Oakland, California. She cleared broken glass and other rubble, built beds, and improved the soil. Not satisfied to raise only crops, she acquired small varieties of livestock, such as turkeys, goats, rabbits, and pigs. Of course, pigs don't stay small, and because of her limited capital, she resorted to dumpster diving to help feed the pigs. In her new memoir Gone Feral: Tracking My Dad Through the Wild, Carpenter tells a very personal story about trying to find and reconnect with her sometimes-missing father, a story which also partly explains how she became an urban farmer.

Like mother like daughter or like father like daughter? Carpenter reports how she spent several years trying to determine from whom she got her values and why she acts the way she does. She wanted to sit down and talk heart-to-heart with her backwoods-wandering dad, who is not the sitting or talking type. She recounts several difficult trips to Idaho reel him in.

Besides Carpenter and her father, the other major characters in the story are:

• her mother, who left her father in the 1970s and has an extensive garden and orchard
• her sister, who shared many wild backwoods adventures as well as juvenile shoplifting with the author
• her boyfriend, her partner in dumpster diving, a mechanic who embraces the garden and barter economy as much as the author

Gone Feral is quirky story about independent people trying to be family. While it is quite entertaining, it both questions and reaffirms family values, though some readers may not see this. I also enjoyed the quick scenes in the public library in Orofino, Idaho and liked this passage in the Epilogue:

"When Riana hasn't heard from Dad in awhile, she starts to worry. Then she calls the library in Orofino. The librarians there are exceedingly kind, and happy to give her the Dad report."

With offbeat memoirs so popular, Gone Feral should have a large and happy audience.

Carpenter, Novella. Gone Feral: Tracking My Dad Through the Wild. Penguin Press, 2014. 212p. ISBN 9781594204432.

The Elephant Scientist by Caitlin O'Connell and Donna M. Jackson

Elephants continue to surprise us. In her field studies in Namibia, zoologist Caitlin O'Connell noticed that when elephants warily stop to assess the safety of a situation, the matriarch holds a front foot bent so that the front toes firmly contact the earth. She had seen similar behavior in insects and recognized it as hearing vibrations through feet (signals sent from toes to ear). In her book for young readers The Elephant Scientist, she recounts research and field experiments that she and a team of naturalists conducted to verify her observation.

I particularly liked the section of the book showing O'Connell and others building and inhabiting a scaffold-like four-story observation station. The station overlooks a water hole that attracts elephants, giraffe, and zebras. And an occasional lion, of course. Wrapped in boma cloth, the electrified perimeter fencing keeps the team safe from the wildlife and let them observe elephant behaviors without disturbing the elephants. The boy in me that always longed for a tree house thinks it would be really cool to live and work in an observation tower in Namibia.

As a title in the Scientists in the Field Series from Houghton Mifflin Books for Children, The Elephant Scientist, which was a Robert F. Siebert Honor Book, is filled with photos of the wildlife and the scientists at work. The chapters are concise and fairly quick reading, and the authors include a glossary and reading list in the back of the book. The Elephant Scientist is an attractive book for elephant lovers of any age. Thanks to Bonnie for bring it home.

Connell, Caitlin and Donna M. Jackson. The Elephant Scientist. Houghton Mifflin Books for Children, 2011. 72p. ISBN 9780547053448.

The Fight of Their Lives: How Juan Marichal and John Roseboro Turned Baseball's Ugliest Brawl into a Story of Forgiveness and Redemption by John Rosengren

I remember a newspaper picture of the fight. San Francisco Giants pitcher Juan Marichal hit Los Angeles Dodgers catcher John Roseboro with his bat when they tussled near home plate in an August 1965. Sandy Koufax ran into the scene. I read that Roseboro required stitches for his head wound. I was shocked that a player would hit another player with a bat, but being an eleven-year-old boy in rural Texas, I then thought nothing more of it. I continued thinking of Marichal and Roseboro as stars in my baseball card collection.

I have seen photos and an occasional reference to the incident since, but I never realized that the memory of the fight dominated Marichal and Roseboro's lives for decades. In his new book The Fight of Their Lives: How Juan Marichal and John Roseboro Turned Baseball's Ugliest Brawl into a Story of Forgiveness and Redemption, sports writer John Rosengren tells how the players tried to put the incident behind them, but friends, fans, and journalists continued to ask about it. Only public acts of contrition and reconciliation years later finally eased the stress. Marichal and Roseboro even became friends.

The Fight of Their Lives illustrates a point made at an Adult Reading Round Table meeting focusing on sports books. Sports books are usually about something other than games. This dual biography recounts how two men rose from poverty thanks to their athletic ability but how little of their wealth came from their paychecks. Baseball salaries except for star players were pretty blue collar in the 1960s. Rosengren also examines race and ethnic relations in 1960s baseball. You do not have to be a baseball fan to enjoy his book.

Rosengren, John. The Fight of Their Lives: How Juan Marichal and John Roseboro Turned Baseball's Ugliest Brawl into a Story of Forgiveness and Redemption. Lyons Press, 2014. 277p. ISBN 9780762787128.

This Land That I Love: Irving Berlin, Woody Guthrie, and the Story of Two American Anthems by John Shaw

2014 is the 200th anniversary of "The Star Spangled Banner," the official national anthem of the United States. It is not, however, the only song used to evoke love of country. "America the Beautiful," "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and "Stars and Stripes Forever" are also often played or sung at public ceremonies. Most anthems are really old, but there are two songs from the 20th century in their class, "God Bless America" written by Irving Berlin and "This Land is Your Land" by Woody Guthrie. Author John Shaw explains the evolution of the two songs in This Land That I Love: Irving Berlin, Woody Guthrie, and the Story of Two American Anthems.

While these two newer songs differ much in tone, and their authors held very different political positions, Shaw shows that they have over time converged in many ways. "God Bless America" began as a strident war march, and "This Land is Your Land" began as a labor rights anthem. There was little love in either. Verses were added and dropped, and performers also reinterpreted the songs in ways unplanned by the composers. As their composers softened and added more spiritual lyrics for their songs, they became more like we know them today.

Setting is very important in this story. The author spends much time on the lives of the composers and political and economic history of the country during the periods in which the composers lived. Shaw also tells abbreviated stories of other American anthems that have risen and fallen in popularity. Readers who enjoy dual biographies or micro-histories may enjoy This Land That I Love.

Shaw, John. This Land That I Love: Irving Berlin, Woody Guthrie, and the Story of Two American Anthems. Public Affairs, 2013. 274p. ISBN 9781610392235.

Audiobook. Audio Go, 2013. 6 compact discs. ISBN 8671482931853.

Making Toast: A Family Story by Roger Rosenblatt

In contrast to the previous book that I reviewed, I kept Making Toast: A Family Story by Roger Rosenblatt on my to-read list for several years before I finally borrowed it as an audiobook. I had forgotten its topic, and several minutes into the book, I was mildly surprised to discover it is a book about grief. I have listened to numerous books by authors telling about their grief in recent years. I would say the books are preparing me for future events, but I can tell that each person responds differently to deaths in families. None are really ready for the deaths of parents, spouses, or children.

Like Blue Nights by Joan Didion, Making Toast is about the death of a daughter. Unlike Didion, however, Rosenblatt's story focuses on the new roles that he and his wife assumed as live-in grandparents for their daughter's three children and on the lives of those children and the widowed husband. Drawing from his talents as a novelist, he shaped the story much like a play. I can imagine Rosenblatt as the character that sometimes steps out of the action to narrate and then steps right back into the scenes.

Making Toast is a lighter variety of grief than that found in Levels of Life by Julian Barnes. That is not to say there are not tears and pain, but Rosenblatt and his family pull together to cope. His book will be of comfort to many people, but not all, as he is not religious. Like all the books on grief that I have read, it is relatively short and quick reading. It can be found in many public libraries in print and audio downloads.

Rosenblatt, Roger. Making Toast: A Family Story. Ecco, 2010. 166p. ISBN 9780061825934.

Audiobook. Blackstone Audio, 2010. 3 compact discs. ISBN 9781441721365.

Walking the Amazon: 860 Days, One Step at a Time by Ed Stafford

I missed learning about Walking the Amazon: 860 Days, One Step at a Time by Ed Stafford when it was first published in the U.S. in 2012. It only came out in paperback, and I am guessing that it did not get much publicity. I have already forgotten how I learned of it. I think a Chicago Tribune travel writer mentioned the book last month. I placed a reserve on the book immediately instead of putting in on my to-read list. I had to know how anyone could walk the the length of the Amazon River.

The idea of walking the Amazon is totally crazy. That is actually why some of his sponsors supported Stafford and his original partner. It had never been done before. One sponsor hinted that failure was acceptable, even probable, but the effort was worth financing. Stafford himself often seemed to question why he was pursuing such a strenuous, dangerous, miserable task. He had started with some lofty ideals, such as bring attention to the plight of the Amazon rainforest and its people, but he was also hoping for some personal glory. On an average day hacking his way through dense brush or wading chest deep in flood water for hours, he spent more time just hoping to find a comfortable place for the night and something to eat.

Like Bill Bryson in A Walk in the Woods, Stafford was not really prepared or even in proper physical shape when he started. Unlike Bryson, he never left the trail completely to come back significantly later to do more. He sometimes took a boat trip ahead to choose where to walk or diverted to a city to the north or south to get supplies, but he always soon returned to the spot he marked to continue his trek.

The author was rarely alone, though his cast of companions changed through the trek. A Peruvian named Cho made most of the trip with him. Thanks to Stafford's blog and other publicity, a collection of friends, sponsors, and news reporters joined him for sections of the trip.

Stafford would not have succeeded without help from many of the poorest people in South America, who gave him shelter, food, and guidance. Though he tried to compensate some, he was at times flat broke. This raises the question of how ethical was his at times illegal quest. I would love to hear a book group debate Stafford's goals, thinking, and behaviors. Was the quest worthwhile?

Stafford, Ed. Walking the Amazon: 860 Days, One Step at a Time. Plume Books, 2012. 319p. ISBN 9780452298262.

Humans of New York by Brandon Stanton

I did not plan this. Bonnie brought home Eye to Eye: Photographs by Vivian Maier (see previous review) just about the time I brought home Humans of New York by Brandon Stanton. I did not see a connection at first. They were just two books on a bookshelf. Then the obvious struck me: they are both books of street photography!

The photographers and their books have some obvious differences, of course. Maier was born in New York and moved to Chicago where she took black-and-white photographs in the 1950s to 1970s. Stanton was born in Chicago and moved to New York where he took color photographs starting in 2010. Maier was secretive, never showing her work. Stanton posts his on his Humans of New York website and his Facebook page. They would be like night and day, except for their ability to get expressive photographs of people.

Readers find more stories in Stanton's Humans of New York. He seems to have talked with many of his subjects and add quotes on or to the side of the photographs. Because the images are colorful and often humorous or beautiful, readers may be more inclined to want to visit 21st century New York than time travel to mid-20th century Chicago. I enjoyed recognizing Central Park, Times Square, the Met, and other New York locations in some photos. The majority, however, are in the neighborhoods of the city.

The HONY website was unavailable a few days ago but is now back featuring Stanton's photos of the Ukraine and India and other countries on his World Tour. I hope another book results. I like that many of the best photos from his archives have been collected in the Humans of New York book. I hope it lasts in libraries for a long time.

Stanton, Brandon. Humans of New York. St. Martins Press, 2013. ISBN 9781250038821.

Eye to Eye: Photographs by Vivian Maier

Two sides of Vivian Maier are on display in Eye to Eye: Photographs by Vivian Maier, the third collection of the photographer's work to be published since her death in 2009. The first is the Maier who seems to have asked permission to photograph people along city streets or in parks in Chicago, New York, or on vacations abroad. The second Maier is the woman who was bound to get photographs of people who interested her with or without permission. No matter which Maier was working at the time, the result was sharp images of people looking into her camera.

Not all of the subjects look pleased, of course. The girl getting out of the car in Wilmette (page 153) looks like she was starting to yell at Maier. I imagine the woman in on the street in Lake Forest (page 201) was thinking "Why won't this person leave me alone?" But there are just as many smiles. The young woman waiting for a train in Chicago (page 167) looks jolly and the older woman in Sandwich, Illinois, (page 203) seems about to laugh.

The subjects were not all women. There were blue collar workers, homeless men, children, and families. From France, Italy, and Malaysia, there were farmers, shopkeepers, mothers with children, and even what I assume were holy men. Not having Maier here to tell us who the people were, we are free to imagine their lives and stations.

The photos were taken between the 1950s and the 1970s, and all are in black-and-white. All have labels saying simply a city or country and an approximate year. In a few the background is indistinct, but many have identifiable settings as well as people. Chicago area residents may be able to pinpoint exactly where Maier stood when she took her photos. The images help us remember or imagine times past, depending on our ages.

It would be so cool to discover someone you knew in Eye to Eye or other books by Maier. Unless, of course, they looked very unhappy in the photos.

Maier, Vivian. Eye to Eye: Photographs by Vivian Maier. CityFiles Press, 2014. 207p. ISBN 9780991541805.

In a Rocket Made of Ice: Among the Children of Wat Opot by Gail Gutradt

My daughter Laura and her husband Luke just went to Cambodia as part of their honeymoon tour of Southeast Asia. Both are very interested in places and people far and near, and I await to hear what they saw. In the meantime, I read In a Rocket Made of Ice: Among the Children of Wat Opot by Gail Gutradt, the author's observations as a volunteer in a what started as an AIDS hospital but evolved into a home for children orphaned by AIDS. Set between 2005 and 2012, Gutradt saw numerous young Cambodians grow and leave the safety of Wat Opot to join in the effort to rebuild their country. She also saw many children die from AIDS.

Much of the book is about the children who receive shelter, educations, and (if necessary) antiretroviral drugs at Wat Opot. Gutradt tells their various stories from the viewpoint of a caregiver. Readers can not help but feel close to their plights.

Gutradt worked alongside a Wat Opot founder, Wayne Dale Matthysse, who as a medic in the Vietnam War witnessed many atrocities. His work among the poor of Cambodia is in some sense an act of contrition as well as a bold experiment in charity. He is a sort of laid-back Mother Theresa who has thrown off religious proselytizing. Jesus and Buddha get equal billing at the center. Gutradt writes lovingly of Matthysse's work without minimizing the difficult ethical decisions he makes daily.

Cambodia is still struggling to recover from the mass murder of the Pol Pot regime and the worldwide AIDS epidemic. Though antiretroviral drugs have slowed the epidemic and let many Cambodians live somewhat normal lives, the disease is still a grave concern. Cambodia relies on foreign aid to provide AIDS care, but funding is shrinking in the wake of economic recession and greater military spending. Growing resistance to the drug treatments also threatens the current stability.

In a Rocket Made of Ice gives us a thoughtful glance at lives far different from ours with equal doses of hope and concern. It would be an excellent choice for issues-driven book clubs.

Gutradt, Gail. In a Rocket Made of Ice: Among the Children of Wat Opot. Alfred A.Knopf, 2014. 322p. ISBN 9780385353472.

A Curious Man: The Strange and Brilliant Life of Robert "Believe It or Not" Ripley by Neal Thompson

I have never subscribed to a newspaper running Ripley's Believe It or Not strips on its comic page. I thought the strip had probably ceased and was surprised to learn that it is still being published. According to the Ripley Entertainment Inc., the strip begun in the 1920s is still in hundreds of newspapers in over forty countries. You may also see daily strips on the website. There are also Ripley books, videos, podcasts, museums, and aquariums. All of this is the legacy of a strange, mostly forgotten man who died in 1949.

In his book A Curious Man: The Strange and Brilliant Life of Robert "Believe It or Not" Ripley, Neal Thompson tells about Robert Leroy Ripley, who was born in 1890 in Santa Rosa, California, home city of the church built from one tree (which was featured in an early Believe It or Not strip). He was know as Leroy or Roy as a child and was very impressed by sports heroes. Never very studious at school, he spent much of his time drawing; one teacher took pity on him, letting him substitute drawings for essays as long as they were on the assigned topics. This illustration work prepared him to be a sports cartoonist. Thompson tells how Ripley landed cartooning jobs at newspapers in San Francisco and New York. While overseas covering Olympic games and other international sports events, he collected odd facts and occasionally drew them into his cartoons. A strong response to these special strips led to his changing the focus of his work, eventually emphasizing bizarre stories and facts. As his popularity rose, he was asked to lecture, which led to vaudeville, which led to radio, which led to films, which led to television. Like Bob Hope or Will Rogers, he became a celebrity in many mediums.

Though the rags-to-riches story is admirable, Thompson's description of Ripley is not very attractive. The cartoonist stuttered, had buck teeth, dressed in flashy clothes, and was always very compulsive. Most importantly, he seemed to have had many habits and prejudices that look especially bad in hindsight. Even in his day, he was criticized for the sensational quality of his cartoons and radio broadcast, but he was very popular with the general public. I can see why modern defenders of broadcast media and entertainment might want us to forget the real Mr. Ripley, but newspapers and broadcast networks prospered featuring his low entertainment for decades.

I listened to A Curious Man read by veteran audiobook narrator Marc Cashman. The celebrity story never bogs down in the telling, as the text keeps introducing new phases of Ripley's varied life. It is a bit sad at the end, but many biographies are.

Thompson, Neal. A Curious Man: The Strange and Brilliant Life of Robert "Believe It or Not" Ripley. Crown Publishers, 2013.

Audiobook. Books on Tape, 2013. 10 compact discs. ISBN 9780385366373.

Naturalist's Big Bend: An Introduction to the Trees and Shrubs, Wildflowers, Cacti, Mammals, Birds, Reptiles and Amphibians, Fish, and Insects by Roland H. Wauer

The title pretty much says it all. Naturalist's Big Bend: An Introduction to the Trees and Shrubs, Wildflowers, Cacti, Mammals, Birds, Reptiles and Amphibians, Fish, and Insects by Roland H. Wauer is a great model of the kind of book you will find in National Park Service bookstores. It provides a history of Big Bend National Park and identifies many of the plants and animals in the park - with hints where to find them. It will be very helpful to have read when I finally make it to the park.

The surprise here is that I grew up in West Texas and never went to Big Bend. The distances in that region are vast, but that really is not a good excuse. I should have made an effort as an adult to go before now. I still don't have a plan to get there, but I am thinking of it more and more. There is so much there to see, as the author tells us.

In the chapter on fish, there is a great story about the saving of the only population of Big Bend Gambusia on the planet. I have heard the story before about how the fish were all captured and moved into a safe pool until their own pond could be cleared of invading species. I was happy to read Wauer's account, which included a bit about his role.

There are many birds and wildflowers, as well as cacti, reptiles, and insects in Big Bend. Wauer's observations make the litanies of plant and animal species enjoyable.

You may notice if you read this blog that I have been highlighting books from the University of Texas Press recently. This book is from the rival Texas A & M University Press. It appears they both have a tradition of publishing useful natural history titles. I need to retire so I can read more of them and travel to some of the great parks described.

Wauer, Roland H. Naturalist's Big Bend: An Introduction to the Trees and Shrubs, Wildflowers, Cacti, Mammals, Birds, Reptiles and Amphibians, Fish, and Insects. Texas A & M University Press, 1980, 1973. 149p. ISBN 0890960704.

Return of the Whooping Crane by Robin W. Doughty

I am very glad I borrowed and read Return of the Whooping Crane by Robin W. Doughty. While the book is at this point 25 years old and there must be more of the whooping crane story to tell, I was totally absorbed by the details of the story from which I come to two conclusions

The first is that whooping cranes in the wild are not really saved yet. There is stability in that the flock that migrates between the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge in Texas and Wood Buffalo National Park in Alberta and the Northwest Territories has in recent decades constantly grown. It was up to 278 cranes in 2011 (International Crane Foundation) There were at the same time 321 whooping cranes in other locations, including preserves, zoos, and a recent East Coast migratory flock. But the Florida non-migratory flock is shrinking, and the Rocky Mountain flock has already failed.

The second point is that it is really difficult to reintroduce cranes to the wild. Doughty documents years of trying to get sandhill cranes to foster whoopers to start that Rocky Mountain flock. The sandhill parents usually did well-enough to hatch and raise the whooping crane chicks, but mature whooping cranes never seemed to mate even when they found each other. Also, many birds raised in captivity and released into the wild died in bad weather, in accidents with electric lines, or in predation by wolves, coyotes, foxes, cougars, and eagles. At least for whooping cranes through 1989, reintroductions resulted in more dead cranes than survivors.

Despite these difficulties, Return of the Whooping Crane is a hopeful book. It tells how laws were passed just in time to stop the feather trade and how low the world's population fell. It recounts extreme efforts by conservationists in the U.S. and Canada over many decades to save the species. It also tells much about crane biology and behavior and includes many beautiful color photographs of whooping cranes. This beautiful book is dated but succeeds still in instilling appreciation and devotion for the cranes.

Doughty, Robin W. Return of the Whooping Crane. University of Texas Press, 1989. 182p. ISBN 0292790414.

The Opium War: Drugs, Dreams, and the Making of Modern China by Julia Lovell

In 1839, the British Empire was ruled by a monarch from a German family while China was ruled by Manchurians who invaded the empire several centuries before. From their palaces with little true appreciation for what they asked, both rulers directed diplomats and generals to secure territory and wealth. A trip by sea from London to China took about six months, and there was no faster means of communication. Because diplomats were bound to their monarchs' bidding, even when the tasks were unwise and next to impossible, respectful negotiations were improbable. Mix in the greed of British and Chinese merchants, and readers discover the plot of the Opium Wars for 1839-1842 and 1856-1860.

Most modern readers from Europe or America know very little about these wars, according to historian Julia Lovell in her new book, The Opium War: Drugs, Dreams, and the Making of Modern China. Few readers studied these nineteenth century conflicts in their schools. Many are truly shocked to learn that the British Empire insisted that the China buy its opium from India, and when the Chinese emperor said no - the official Chinese position was to discourage the use of the narcotic drug - the British sent its navy to level coastal cities and slaughter many Chinese soldiers and citizens.

Nearly every Chinese citizen alive after the Communist takeover of the late 1940s, on the other hand, has heard the Party's very slanted story about this unjust Western imperial violation of the Chinese nation. The example of the Opium Wars is at the foundation of Communist Party thinking about Western capitalism and is still very relevant today. The Party even used the Opium Wars to mask its own actions in 1989 in the aftermath of its killings at Tiananmen Square.

Some readers may find The Opium War challenging to read because of its many unfamiliar place and personal names. The author includes a roster of principle characters in the appendix, which I recommend to anyone wanting to distinguish Yan Fu from Yang Fang and Yijing from Yishan. I also commend the book to anyone wanting to learn about nineteenth century history for the sake of understanding the present.

Lovell, Julia. The Opium War: Drugs, Dreams, and the Making of Modern China. Overlook Presss, 2014. 480p. ISBN 9781468308952.

Park Scientists: Gila Monsters, Geysers, and Grizzly Bears in America's Own Backyard by Mary Kay Carson and photographs by Tom Uhlman

America's National Parks were created to preserve wilderness and wildlife. To succeed in this mission, they have also become places of scientific inquiry, much of it being conducted by park scientists. Author Mary Kay Carson and photographer Tom Uhlman travelled to three of the country's national parks to meet "Scientists in the Field" and learn about their import work. They report in Park Scientists: Gila Monsters, Geysers, and Grizzly Bears in America's Own Backyard.

Their first reports focus on Yellowstone National Park, which stretches across a might volcanic caldera in Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. Carson and Uhlman followed geologists who monitor the ever-changing eruptions of geysers on the western side of the park. Then they joined biologists who study the park's population of grizzly bears.

Saguaro National Park in Arizona was their second stop. Here they worked along side the scientists who study large lizards called Gila monsters before joining scientists and local students conducting a census of the park's saguaro, who may live up to 200 years.

Then they crossed the country to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, which straddles Tennessee and North Carolina. After spending days with biologist Amy Luxbacher finding endangered salamanders in the park, they turned their attention to night-time research of Photinus carolinus, a rare type of firefly that blinks in sync with others of its kind, putting on amazing light shows.

Being a big kid who has been to two of the parks, I enjoyed learning more about the parks, the wildlife, and the people who work there. If I were a kid, I might be inspired to become a nature scientist. In any case, I would understand and learn to care about the conservation of the great places.

Carson, Mary Kay. Park Scientists: Gila Monsters, Geysers, and Grizzly Bears in America's Own Backyard. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014. 76p. ISBN 9780547792682.

Kid Brady Stories and A Man of Means by P. G. Wodehouse

At the same time that a new author is taking up P. G. Wodehouse's characters (see Jeeves and the Wedding Bells), early Wodehouse works are being republished. In 2013, the Overlook Press put together Kid Brady Stories and A Man of Means, joining into one volume stories about two unlikely men, a street boy who becomes a champion boxer and a lowly bank clerk who becomes a multi-millionaire. These stories were all published in periodicals and later collected in books in 1907 and 1914. Together in a new volume, they humorously show us an Englishman's take on American initiative and social mobility.

The boy who becomes internationally known as boxer Kid Brady got his start as a errand boy at a gymnasium. When the proprietor asked what he could do, he answered "Anything," the properly optimistic American verbally-delivered resume. He made good on his promise in stories that must have drawn inspiration from dime-store novels of the time. Thankfully, Wodehouse supplied better than dime-store dialogue and description in his quickly-read stories.

Roland Bleke was a shy young man who seemed to get himself into situations by not being assertive. Readers first learn of him asking his employer to reduce his pay. If his slight savings declined, he hoped to discourage the young woman who had designs on marrying him. How he became wealthy without intention is quite comic. In the last story "The Hired Past," he hired a man-servant to help him escape another romantic entanglement, foreshadowing the later Bertie Wooster and Jeeves stories.

Wodehouse reflected the society of his time in racial and gender attitudes. Still, Kid Brady Stories and A Man of Means is good fun for Wodehouse fans and anyone interested the comic writings of early 20th century America.

Wodehouse, P. G. Kid Brady Stories and A Man of Means. Overlook Press, 2013. 206p. ISBN 9781468308334.

Levels of Life by Julian Barnes

In writing the novel Flaubert's Parrot, novelist Julian Barnes imagined grief felt by retired doctor Geoffrey Braithwait upon the death of his wife. According to Barnes, he never expected to be in the same position himself, assuming that his wife would survive him. But she died in 2008 very soon after her being diagnosed with cancer. In the third essay "The Loss of Depth" in Levels of Life, Barnes describes his grief, a reality much beyond anything he imagined for poor Braithwait.

The reviewer from the New York Times said that he wished that Barnes had only published the 56-page third essay, as it is so eloquent and powerful. It seemed to him the first two essays did not matter. I would disagree. I think their stories of amusing lightness followed by almost predictable tragedies set readers up well for the third essay. The two pieces (one true and the other fiction) give us memory in common with the author, and he draws from them in telling his own story of grief. We have shared an interest (if the two essay interest you) and are in a sense attune to the author. Their lightness makes the impact of the weighty third essay greater. 

Working in a library, observing the requests for Levels of Life, I saw a borrowing pattern much like that for The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. Having now read both, I see why. A book discussion on the pair might be very interesting.

Barnes, Julian. Levels of Life. Alfred A. Knopf, 2013. 128p. ISBN 9780385350778.

Books About Birds from the University of Texas Press

When I was in library school at the University of Texas, one of my classes toured the University of Texas Press. It had recently retooled, if I remember correctly, incorporating new automated technology. I remember huge metal plates for printing pages. It was the late 1970s, so I am sure much has changed since, but I was impressed. I did not at the time have the foresight to realize that many years later I would be reading many books published there.

Several years ago I read The Robin by Roland H. Wauer, which is in the Corrie Herring Hooks series of natural history books from the University of Texas Press. At the time, I noticed that there were other books to add to my to-read list. Now I am finally moving a few titles to my books-I've-read list.

The first I read this month was The Cardinal by June Osborne with photographs by Barbara Garland. Osborne describes the seasonal life of the easy-to-identify redbird, starting with January and progressing through the year. In the process, she tells how the species has flourished, much like the robin, as Americans altered the environment. Once the species was a southern bird but now it inhabits much of the U.S. and parts of Canada year round. This is after cardinals were threatened in the late 19th century by people trapping them for the caged bird trade. Luckily legislation in southern states and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 saved them.

While 19th century Americans people caged cardinals for their beauty, they caged the mostly drab northern mockingbird for its song. According to Robin W. Doughty in his The Mockingbird, the master mimic has benefited from human migration as much as the cardinal. The northern mockingbird was also once a southern bird but now is found across much of the United States and has been found in Canada. It is the only member of its genus in the United States; there are 7 to 9 other species (depending on how you define the species) in the Caribbean, Central America, and South America. My Texas friends will enjoy this book as much of the described field work was in that state.

I have started reading Return of the Whooping Crane, which is also by Robin W. Doughty and published at the press. I had intended to describe it here, but it is a longer book and deserves much more attention. Look for a review in an upcoming post.

As I get more serious about birding, I may be turning to more titles from the University of Texas Press. Some are a couple decades old and apparently out of print, but they are provide good basic descriptions, insightful history, and colorful photos. They may still in many library collections.

Osborne, June. The Cardinal. University of Texas Press, 1992. 108p. ISBN 0292711476.

Doughty, Robin W. The Mockingbird. University of Texas Press, 1988. 80p. ISBN 0292750994.

I Work at a Public Library: A Collection of Crazy Stories - from the Stacks by Gina Sheridan

I see and hear some strange things working at a public library. So does Gina Sheridan, as she tells us in I Work at a Public Library: A Collection of Crazy Stories - from the Stacks. I was once asked for "actual true photos from future space colonies." Similarly, Sheridan has been asked for an actual autobiography by a dragon. I denied an odd request to load strange software on public computers from a man who would not reveal his name because he was fleeing his evil mother. Sheridan was approached by a self-revealing undercover cop who seems to have told her so she would not tell others. I could probably recall a few more strange stories, but I could never match Sheridan. She has far more stories to tell.

The trick with telling library stories is confidentiality. As librarians, we have an obligation to respect our clients' right to privacy. Adhered to strictly, we could tell no stories at all, but it seems that we need to tell some stories. We need others to help us understand what we have said and done so we can do better or to tell us we did okay. We sometimes need to prepare our colleagues for encounters they may have. We also need to describe the nature of our work for the benefit of the profession. What better way than through true stories - with identifying details removed.

Most of Sheridan's stories will never be pinned on specific library users, as she recounts little other than dialogue in many cases. The exception is the stories in the chapter "598.2 Rare Birds," which focuses on one unique woman, whom a few people at one of Sheridan's former libraries may identify. Sheridan told Cuckoo Carol that she would be in her book, and Carol did not object.

At first glance, I Work at a Public Library seems mere entertainment, but I think it could be used in classes and workshops for librarians learning how to cope with the hazards of public service. It would be interesting to hear students and veterans describe how they would have handled these strange situations.

It warms my heart to find Sheridan included an index. So few books have indexes these days.

If there is ever a Librarians' Old Folks Home, copies of I Work at a Public Library should be stocked in the check-it-out-yourself library to prompt the old librarians to tell their stories. I'm sure they saw and heard some pretty strange things at their libraries.

Sheridan, Gina. I Work at a Public Library: A Collection of Crazy Stories - from the Stacks. Adams Media, 2014. 157p. ISBN 9781440576249.

My Life in Middlemarch by Rebecca Mead

These were my questions before I listened to My Life in Middlemarch by Rebecca Mead, read by Kate Reading:

Would I find a book about a woman's relationship to a single book interesting?

How much of Middlemarch by George Eliot would I remember?

Despite reading several strong reviews and hearing another on National Public Radio, I wondered if My Life in Middlemarch could retain my interest through eight audio discs. The topic seemed rather narrow. I need not have worried. The subject matter as presented is broader than it first appears. I would estimate Mead's book is 45 percent about George Eliot, 35 percent about the characters and events in Middlemarch, and 20 percent about Mead herself. Of course, it is all tied together in such a way that any one paragraph or even sentence could be about all three. The story keeps turning and evolving so that specific topics are fresh. I never wavered in my desire to keep listening.

It has been a long time since I read Middlemarch - obviously before I started a spreadsheet of my reading in 1990 (unless I somehow neglected to enter the book). I also saw the 1994 BBC miniseries twenty years ago. I only remember Patrick Malahide in the role of the cold Reverend Edward Casaubon. Until I looked up the credits, I could not name any others from the cast, though I now see numerous actors that I recognize. Thinking that I remembered little, I wondered whether discussion about the characters would make any sense to me. Again, I need not have worried. Mead introduces the characters through descriptions that stimulate memory. (I don't know how it would be for someone who has no knowledge of Middlemarch.) I remembered much more than I would have thought.

The surprise for me was that the book is about George Eliot more than anything else. At least, that is what I take from My Life in Middlemarch. I think it serves as an entertaining introduction to the 19th century author's life, coming from a scholarly admirer, tempered but still passionate in admiration. I now want to read or listen again to the novels of Eliot. I only see Silas Marner on my spreadsheet. That does not seem right. Surely I have read more. It has been too long.

Mead, Rebecca. My Life in Middlemarch. Crown Publishers, 2014. 293p. ISBN 9780307984760.

Audiobook: Blackstone Audio, 2014. 8 compact discs. ISBN 9781482973532.

Something Out There: Stories by Nadine Gordimer

The late author Nadine Gordimer was thorn in the side of the apartheid government of South Africa for decades. It banned three of her novels about the daily lives of people on both sides of the color bar from publication. Known and respected internationally, however, she was difficult to silence. The world read Gordimer, and she was award a Nobel Prize for Literature.

During the apartheid years, Gordimer produced a constant stream of short stories. Among the best was "Something Out There," a 1980s tale of a Johannesburg suburb living with the knowledge that a wild animal is stalking its pets and raiding its gardens at night. Is it a big cat or some sort of ape? A boy takes a picture of something in a tree that may be the long-toothed creature. everyone is nervous, including a cell of rebels planning an operation against the government. At 86 pages, the tension-filled "Something Out There" could almost be called a novella and may take a couple of sittings to read.

In contrast, most of the other stories in her collection Something Out There: Stories are short and quickly read. Not all are set in South Africa, but most are. Collectively, they paint a stark picture of the cities, townships, and outback of the country that was boycotted by so many individuals and other countries during the 1970s and 1980s. The stories give readers born in the 1980s and later a look at the world before the fall of the Berlin Wall, breakup of the Soviet Union, and release from prison of Nelson Mandela.

Gordimer, Nadine. Something Out There: Stories. Viking, 1984. 203p. ISBN 0670656607.