Archive for the ‘doubleday’ Tag
The best books are those you don’t want to pick up because once you do, you don’t want to put them down. It’s a conundrum. Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus is one such book. It’s a love story (on many levels) wrapped in science, specifically chemistry.
Elizabeth Zott is not a woman to be dismissed. Even after her post-graduate education is derailed due to sexual assault, she’s relentless in her pursuit of science.
Well ahead of her time in the late 1950s early ‘60s, she refuses to let her gender restrict her dreams, nor does she allow her good looks to dictate how’s she’s perceived. She’s exceptionally intelligent with a strong sense of self and a desire to be a chemist in the male-dominated scientific community.
She’s hired at a research lab where she meets Calvin Evans, a socially-awkward but distinguished scientist. A relationship based on mutual respect, desire and, ultimately, love flourishes despite the ill-will of their colleagues.
Garmus deftly illustrates the sexism and hypocrisy of the era. Yet, this is not a male-bashing narrative. When circumstances change, Elizabeth finds another way – round-about though it is – to pursue a career in chemistry: she hosts a television cooking show where she takes an unusual approach. Instead of identifying ingredients by their common names, she uses scientific terminology (ie., sodium chloride vs salt). Surprisingly, the program is a hit.
Humor and tragedy are incorporated in equal measures with several endearing characters the reader would love to spend more time with.
Lessons in Chemistry
Five Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2022
390 pages (includes acknowledgements)
The Liar’s Dictionary by Eley Williams is an entertaining novel with two separate plots spanning a century. The primary setting for both storylines is a London printing house for the Swansby Encyclopdaedic Dictionary.
In its heyday, Swansby employed dozens to research words and their definitions. Peter Winceworth’s job addresses the letter S. One-hundred years later, Mallory, a young intern, is tasked with determining which words are real. Her publisher, part of the same Swansby family, has plans to digitize the dictionary.
Alternating between past and present, Peter and Mallory have distinct senses of humor, feelings of self-doubt and an apparent love of language. In an effort to exert a latent sense of power and personality, Peter invents words. These are what later keep Mallory busy.
Through her investigation, Mallory gains an understanding of the person behind the fictitious words. Although he is unknown to her, elements of his personality are revealed.
Williams begins each chapter with a letter from A to Z, each referring (in alphabetical order) to one of Peter’s concocted vocabulary. It’s a clever way of further connecting his work with Mallory’s.
Yet, not everything is rosy in either era. Peter is tormented for a lisp (he only pretends to have). This makes his efforts associated with S-words to be humiliating on the surface, but amusing since he could easily drop the speech impediment. Mallory’s torment comes in the form of repeated threatening phone calls.
The relationship across time is tied to fake words and people with real emotions.
The Liar’s Dictionary
Four Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2020
270 pages

It wasn’t a single element of Hidden Valley Road by Robert Kolker that captured my attention. There’s the Colorado Springs* setting; a family with 12 children, six of whom were diagnosed with schizophrenia; and the nature vs nurture argument. Ultimately, all of the above held my interest.
First, it’s difficult to image a family with 12 kids; it’s mind boggling. Like most parents, Mimi and Don Galvin excelled in some areas and failed in others. Their first 10 children were boys; neither of the two youngest, Margaret and Mary (aka Lindsey), suffered from mental illness. They were, however, the victims of parental benign neglect and abuse from their brothers. The parents were successful at falconry, but their parenting techniques left much to be desired.
Don was often away on business. First when in the military and later in the private sector. He was only peripherally involved in family life. When issues arose, his attitude was a reflection of the times: boys will be boys. Mimi was left to sort out problems, and her approach was to project a glossier image than the facts portrayed.
Eventually, Mimi’s aversion to facing truths gives way to an inordinate amount of time dealing with physicians, clinics, medications and averting blame. Descriptions of the physical battles among brothers, the inability to accept what was happening to the family and the impact on the healthy children are harrowing.
Along with the Galvin family experience, Kolker details the medical community’s evolving response to schizophrenia through the years.
Hidden Valley Road: Inside the Mind of an American Family
Four Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2020
377 pages, includes notes and index
*I live in Colorado Springs.

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern is a cross between a fairy tale and a video game, with some magic thrown. This requires the ability to suspend one’s sense of disbelief.
Most chapters begin with the name of Zachary Ezra Rawlins, a graduate student who finds a mysterious, uncatalogued book in his school library. It’s especially baffling since it’s about him. Alternating chapters relate to a particular story within the found book. Confused yet? I’ll back up. A land, beneath ours, contains an ancient library with guardians who protect the books and the stories they contain. Zachary’s efforts to uncover the book’s meaning take him on adventure where bees, cats, doors, books – lots of books – and swords are important symbols.
Morgenstern creates a literary world unlike any other. It’s dependent on imagination and an appreciation of the different realms books take us to when we read. The writing is rich in visual detail, even if, at times, it doesn’t always make sense. This is similar to what Zachary experiences. He encounters multiple choices in his quest; almost as many subplots presented to the reader trying to fit all the pieces together.
Pirates, a sea of honey, searches for lost loves, artists, friends and mysterious passageways also inhabit the novel. The deeper Zachary goes into what is ultimately a search for the starless sea, the less engaging the narrative becomes. Yes, I wanted to know what was going to happen, but at almost 500 pages, it took too long to find out.
The Starless Sea
Three-and-three-quarter bookmarks
Doubleday, 2019
494 pages

Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI is an exhaustive look at a compelling story. Unfortunately, the narrative is bogged down with too many details. While this has all the makings of an excellent series perfect for streaming, as a book it lacks binge-worthiness.
Author David Grann has certainly done his research. He combines two story lines: how the Osage nation in Oklahoma, once among the wealthiest people in the world, lost its fortune; and the early days of the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover.
New to me was the story of the numerous Osage Indians who were murdered as a means of obtaining their oil rights. Grann focuses on the Burkhart family, although many others are mentioned, whose members were either shot or poisoned. Efforts to identify the murderers and press charges were stymied. Evidence was often conveniently misplaced, coroner’s reports were inaccurate and juries in the 1920s were reluctant to convict a white man of murdering an Indian.
Initially, it was believed the death toll rose to 24, which is when the FBI got involved. Grann’s research indicates the number is much higher. Nonetheless, federal agents at Hoover’s directive began an investigation led by Tom White, a former Texas Ranger.
The story deals with double agents, small town politics and grossly unfair treatment of the Osage. American history buffs are sure to find Grann’s work a gripping true-life account. As much as I wanted to be captivated, it didn’t happen for me.
Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI
Three bookmarks
Doubleday, 2017
338 pages, including selected bibliography

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite is both engaging and unnerving. The writing accounts for the former and the subject, which the title clearly reflects, explains the latter.
Korede is the good sister. She’s older, responsible and works as a nurse. She is single but is attracted to a doctor with whom she is friends. Her looks are considered plain. Meanwhile, her sister, Ayoola, is beautiful, flippant and kills off the men she dates. She relies on Korede to, literally, clean up the mess.
Yet, Ayoola’s most recent – the third — murder leaves her sister filled with guilt. She begins to worry that the same fate will befall the doctor who has succumbed to Ayoola’s charms.
In addition to the deaths, which for the most part warrant little attention from the police, the narrative explores the sisters’ relationship with their father. He’s an abusive, powerful man, whose character is portrayed in the past tense. The more that’s shared about him, the more one has to wonder how he died, particularly given Ayoola’s penchant for murder.
Braithwaite’s novel is about the strength of sisterly love, no matter how misguided, and the way in which dreams can be so easily burst in the name of loyalty. Short chapters and the terse vivid writing make this a fast read. The characters are easily imagined and a range of emotions, from sympathy to disappointment, is evoked. It’s clear from the beginning that Ayoola isn’t good; the real surprise comes from Korede.
My Sister, the Serial Killer
Four Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2018
226 pages

Bread & Butter is bound to appeal to foodies. Author Michelle Wildgen combines her talents as a writer with her past restaurant experience to tell the story of three brothers with two competing eateries in their hometown.
Leo and Britt have been running Winesap, their fashionable restaurant for more than a decade. When their younger brother, Harry, returns home they find it difficult to be enthusiastic about his plans to open another upscale establishment in a weak economy. Yet, it’s not just the competition that has the older two apprehensive. Harry has bounced around from educational pursuits to various jobs in the years since he’s been gone. Leo and Britt are certain Harry lacks the stamina, knowledge and commitment to run a successful business. They see him as a neophyte, and Harry, who wants their support, is driven to prove them wrong.
Wildgen has created likeable, sometimes exasperating, characters whose voices and situations ring true. Eventually, Britt signs on as Harry’s partner while maintaining his front-of-house role at Winesap. Tensions mount as expectations, many unfounded, lead to several surprises when Harry’s place opens for business.
Descriptions of food, prepping for dinner service and the relationships among the employees (and owners) are vivid and realistic.
Ultimately, the siblings have credible culinary chops; they also have difficulty relinquishing family issues precipitated by birth order. This tends to bog things down a bit. Wildgen emphasizes that sometimes family members are often seen as what we want them to be, rather than who they truly are.
Bread & Butter
Three-and-a-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2014
314 pages

Aimee Bender’s second novel, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, is quirky but glum. The premise follows Rose, the young narrator, and her ability to discern people’s emotions through the food they prepare. This is in stark contrast to the concept that cooking and eating meals are meant to be enjoyed and shared. Poor Rose must develop a strategy to avoid knowing more than she cares or wants, but, of course, she also has to eat.
It doesn’t help that Rose’s family is on the eccentric side to begin with. Lane, her mother, is flighty. And, as Rose deduces from her mother’s cooking, Lane is also very unhappy. Rose’s father is distant and professional. Her brother, Joe, is a genius void of social skills, with an enigma of his own. Despite the food affliction, Rose is pretty much the clan’s anchor with Joe’s friend, George.
Bender deftly portrays the efforts young Rose endures to, at first, keep her disorder a secret and, eventually, live with it. Rose is wise and perceptive; she is smart enough not to reveal too much. Although there are a few light moments, it’s more than a slice of cake that’s particularly sad. Rose and most everyone around her are all woefully unhappy.
The story’s saving grace is Bender’s writing which blends melancholy with the bizarre, while throwing sensitivity and a bit of wry humor into the mix. She’s also excellent at describing a Los Angeles neighborhood that doesn’t rely on tired landmarks.
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
Three-and-and-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2010
292 pages

Mark Haddon’s The Red House is a metaphor for the definition of family; the meaning can be obscured by comfort or serve as boundaries through which no one should cross. Haddon emphasizes the latter. Estranged brother and sister, Richard and Angela, meet for a family vacation shortly after their mother’s death. Richard’s a doctor and newly married to his second wife. Her 16-year-old daughter is part of the package. Angela and her husband have three children, but she mourns the still-born daughter she lost 18 years ago. These eight family members spend a week together in the English countryside as they tentatively reveal themselves to each other – some with better results than others.
Haddon’s approach is interesting. Each chapter represents one day of the vacation, and everyone’s perspective is provided to set the scene. Initially, it’s difficult, even confusing, keeping track of who’s who. However, as the storyline evolves, more about Angela’s grief is explained, not just from her viewpoint but her husband’s, too. Also, Richard is not as professionally secure as he projects, this from his wife.
Haddon blends the familiar (sulky teenagers) with the uncomfortable (sulky parents). Slowly, observations and experiences round out each character. Jumping from one person to another becomes less awkward. Mostly, the time together leads to everyone’s better understanding of him or herself. Haddon writes, “Behind everything there is a house … compared to which every other house is larger or colder or more luxurious.” Sounds a lot like the way all families are perceived.
The Red House
Three-and-a-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2012
264 pages

The Night Circus is like a fine etching, rich in detail and artistically crafted. Although
black and white are the dominant hues, the nuances of lighting and shading result in a
rainbow of detail.
The word magical to describe Erin Morgenstern’s novel is inadequate. The story is so
much more. The circus, only open at night and in various places around the world,
transports its audience members, and thus readers, to beyond the suspension of dis-
belief. Taking place between 1873 and 1903 the story moves from one time frame to
another, from character to character, from love story to mystery, while Morgenstern
tells a very tall tale that is engaging and exciting.
Magic, or the manipulation of what people believe they see, is the backdrop. The
circus is the venue for a battle of the beautiful and incredible between Celia and
Marco. They have been trained their entire lives by masters who have no regard
for emotion or repercussions. Although Marco and Celia are destined to try to sur-
pass each other through their skills of illusion, no one is prepared for the direction
their relationship takes.
The vivid cast of characters demonstrates the human element of magic and mystery.
Attachments develop among them, and with the reader, creating plenty of tension
wondering not only what will happen between Marco and Celia, but to those whose
lives depend on the night circus.
Morgenstern’s black and white portrait is as lively as any circus, but far more fantastic
than any that can be imagined.
The Night Circus
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2011
387 pages