“Hawaii” by James A. Michener (1959)

Quite an epic!

First we have the arrival of native Hawaiians. In Bora-Bora, near Tahiti, a king and his brother are driven out by a clever high priest of a new god named Oro. Oro demands respect and reverence; the high priest is able to suppress opposition by accusing anyone of irreverence and immediately have their head clubbed in as a punishment and sacrifice to Oro. Rather than wait around until their own inevitable head-clubbing, the king and his brother go into voluntary exile with a loyal crew, seeking a fabled land to the north. After several weeks at sea, they miraculously find Hawaii.

Nearly 1000 years later, Hawaii is being regularly visited by New England whalers. A young Hawaiian looking for adventure, actually a member of the royal family named Keoki Kanakoa, ends up converting to Christianity and pleads for young divinity students at Yale to come help his people as missionaries. Extremely awkward and obnoxious Abner Hale makes his application to the missionary board … but is dismayed that unmarried missionaries are not accepted. (Apparently the single ones just get into too many … situations with the native girls.)

(Note – all the people in the book are fictional, but generally based on real counterparts. For instance, Abner and the other missionaries were likely based on Hiram Bingham and Asa Thurston. Keoki Kanakoa is kind of like Henry Opukahaia.)

Actually, lack of a spouse was not that great of a problem. Apparently it was quite common for “shotgun weddings” among prospective missionaries and any young gal who would assent, usually a cousin or other acquaintance. For Abner, the senior guy on the missionary board considers this a prime opportunity to marry off his spinster (ie. mid-20s!) niece, Jerusha Bromley, who keeps saying she’s waiting for her whaling captain beau but heaven knows a missionary husband would be much more respectable.

The trip out on a small brig, with a dozen or so newlywed missionary couples crammed into 3 small cabins, was miserable. Nearly everyone was seasick and constipated (“billiousness”). Abner spends the weeks trying to convert the crew and convince Captain Janders to give up his worldly novels. (And force feed Jerusha some disgusting bananas, which was a bit weird. “This is what we’ll be eating for the next several years, so you’d better learn to like ’em!”) At this point in the story, and a little later when the missionaries are in Hawaii, I was struck by the similarity between the religion of the ancient Bora-Borans and that of the Calvinists. Convincing sailors that they are sinners, destined for eternal fire in hell unless they submit to the edicts of the church, is nearly as nasty as the high priest having men clubbed. (Not quite though.) Plus both groups were extremely superstitious, attributing coincidence to divine actions. I liked the words later in the story of Dr. John Whipple, another missionary who becomes much more nuanced: “I don’t think the Hawaiian gods sent the winds, and I don’t think the Christian God sank the ships.” Sometimes, things just happen yo!

The Hawaiians accept that Jesus is more powerful than their gods (see what big, fast ships and strong weapons the white man has!) but see no reason they can’t accept Him and His blessings as an addition to their own gods. Hawaiian customs too are somewhat incompatible with church teachings, such as the tradition of Hawaiian girls stripping naked and swimming eagerly out to greet the whalers (and make some money sleeping with the sailors) entering port after long months at sea. Some other interesting traditions: the leaders were fed huge meals from an early age so they would grow big and fat. This was a mark of a successful settlement, and also the leaders were supposed to be kept well-fed and strong, able to defend the settlement from enemies. To show grief when such a leader died, breaking out your teeth or gouging out an eye was totally appropriate. (ewwwww)

A main source of conflict in this section in the book is Jerusha’s whaler captain, Rafer Hoxworth, who nearly kills Abner when he finds out he’s married his girl. But then later on, Rafer has a house built for Jerusha, and many years later his half-Hawaiian daughter ends up marrying Abner’s son. Abner stays pretty insufferable, insensitive, and brainwashed throughout his life. He’s also plenty racist – even though he strives to save their souls, he despises and fears the Hawaiians, refusing to allow his children to mingle with Hawaiians or even hear Hawaiian being spoken. He also refuses to even consider the idea of ordaining Keoki Kanakoa as a minister. Keoki, crushed at this rejection, turns his back on Christianity in favor of his ancestral religion and obligations.

The descendants of the missionaries are very prominent in the rest of the book. Indeed, nearly everyone is named Hale, Hoxworth, Whipple, Janders, or Hewlitt (another missionary who provoked scandal after marrying a Hawaiian when his wife died). Or combinations thereof — Whipple Hoxworth, Hewlitt Janders, and Hoxworth Hale are all character names in later chapters… it honestly gets a bit ridiculous and stale, but there you go. After making a fortune servicing whaling ships, the missionary families get into the shipping, sugar cane, and later the pineapple business. The idea is that raw agricultural products are shipped out, on the family-owned ships, to the mainland, where the cargo is sold and replaced by lumber and other finished goods which the islands lack, which are then brought back to Hawaii and sold at a profit.

Hawaiians suffered greatly from Western diseases in these days (roughly the century after first contact via Captain Cook in the late 1700’s – an incident not portrayed in Michener’s “Hawaii”, by the way) so Chinese were brought in as a labor force. Kee Mun Ki, a Punti gambler bound for Hawaii to make his fortune like his uncle recently did in California during the gold rush, agrees to transport a Hakka slave girl to a brothel in Hawaii. Though the two peoples have lived side by side for centuries, Punti and Hakka distrust each other and don’t even speak each other’s language. Mun Ki bucks tradition and decides to keep the girl as a concubine for himself – though always insisting his real wife is back in China. Indeed, he informs the Hakka girl, Char Nyuk Tsin, that when they go back to China he’ll take the kids (who are legally his only) to live with him and his real wife, while she can go back to her Hakka village. Nyuk Tsin’s father was caught up and executed in some revolution, and so Nyuk Tsin, who has no family to go back to, worries about this eventuality.

Fate intervenes however … Mun Ki contracts leprosy and is banished to the colony on Molokai. Though not required to, Nyuk Tsin chooses to go with him, becoming the “pake [Chinese] kokua.” Lepers were just dumped on the shore, with nothing to survive on except for the supplies which also were dumped on shore periodically. It was a lawless, hopeless hell, governed by the strong … until they died off, to be replaced by others. Nyuk Tsin helps Mun Ki until his death, then several others before she is allowed to go back to Hawaii, miraculously never contracting leprosy herself. While she was gone, her four sons – Asia, America, Africa, Europe – were left in the care of a kind Hawaiian couple who sheltered Mun Ki and Nyuk Tsin from the authorities when he tried to run away for a time rather than be banished. A fifth son, Australia, was born on Molokai and given to the supply ship sailors. Years later, Nyuk Tsin finds out that Australia was raised by a Hawaiian family. With the family back together, Nyuk Tsin still insists the boys send money periodically back to their “real mother” in China, as an homage to Mun Ki. Under her direction, and with some help from some friendly haoles, she guides her sons and grandsons to good educations and helps make the Kee family very powerful.

Meanwhile, the missionary families start a conspiracy to overthrow the Hawaiian monarchy and become a part of America. The impetus is to avoid the Louisiana and Colorado (beets) sugar lobby’s threatened import tax on foreign sugar, which would bankrupt the families. If they are a part of America, though, then no foreign import taxes! Taking advantage of the Queen’s legitimate efforts to reassert native authority from long time American advisors, the missionary families portray a face of oppression and the need for democracy for Americans living in Hawaii. With the protection of the US military, already present in leased ports, the coup is complete before it even begins.

On the heels of the Chinese, who leave the sugar fields as soon as better opportunities arise as storekeepers or restaurant owners, come Japanese laborers. Kamejiro Sakagawa is one of many sent to tend sugar cane and later pineapples on Kauai. After years of failing to save his target number which would allow him to return to Japan in triumph (much of his failure is due to frequent contributions to Japanese imperial concerns), he caves in after a decade and asks his mother to find him a bride. When the group of brides comes, his intended wife rejects him as too poor. Kamejiro’s friend, who won the bet allowing him to wear the one nice suit that day, is a little upset at the ugliness of his own bride so proposes they trade. This turns out to be a great thing, because Kamejiro’s intended bride is quickly fed up with Hawaiian life and runs away; but Kamejiro becomes happy with his hard-working workhorse of a wife.

There’s an interesting anecdote which illustrates how cultural misunderstanding and the imperfection of memory can drive racial hatred. A German Luna (plantation overseer) is fed up with some Japanese faking sick. One day, when Kamejiro really is sick, the German beats him and forces him to the fields. Later, when Kamejiro recovers, he intends to commit harakiri over the dishonor of being beaten, but decides instead to hit the German with his shoe. This is a grave insult in Japan, but the German is just confused and nothing much happens. Years later, this story gets blown out of proportion; now the Japanese tell of the Germans constantly beating workers in the fields, and of the one time when Kamejiro fought back and beat a German to within an inch of his life…

Fast forward to WWII and the bombing of Pearl Harbor. As depicted by Kamejiro, this was a time of confusing torn loyalties for the Japanese on Hawaii. But they largely escaped the internment camps that were the fate of many on the mainland – basically, they were key, trusted members of society and there were so many of them that it would have been impossible. The Sakagawa family proves its loyalty to America when all four boys join the 222 Regiment (based on the real-life 442), fighting in Italy and France.

Meanwhile, the current missionary family scion Hoxworth Hale goes on a military scouting expedition to greater Polynesia to look for potential new military sites. He observes that Hawaii has fared much better than others at accommodating Chinese and Japanese imported labor, but has done worse at treating the native Hawaiians fairly. He contrasts this with Fiji, where the natives are well off but the imported Indian laborers are treated terribly. Then there’s what would be a scandal today, when he and a small group of officers scouting in Bora-Bora are provided pretty young island girls, eager for white babies, for the week…

I thought the post-war years, which encompass the last 15% or so of the book (which was still about 8 hours, as long as some other full audiobooks!) was pretty boring – unions and anti-unions; Japanese coming to power in the legislature. Maybe this was included to show how peacefully Hawaii was able to resolve a land use crisis which led to violence in so many other parts of the world, such as the French Revolution? Anyway, I thought the only interesting character here was Kelly Kanakoa, the descendant of Keiki, who would now be king if the monarchy was still around. Instead, he works as a “beachboy”, nominally a surfing instructor but really a male escort for rich divorcees or widows (lots in immediate post-war years) visiting the islands.  One time, a companion gets washed out to sea during a tsunami (after saving Kelly’s life) but the incident never is mentioned again. Later Kelly, a talented singer and guitar player, becomes part of a famous musical duo with one of the Kee girls.

I wonder though, what would Kelly’s life have been like if Abner had allowed Keiki to join the ministry, and if the missionary families hadn’t usurped the Hawaiians – both politically during the coup, but also much earlier economically. Hoxworth Hale as a youth muses on whether his ancestors did wrong in their treatment of the Hawaiians, but – inspired by Yale’s excellent display of James Jackson Jarves paintings which the university basically stole – decides that past wrongs don’t matter nearly as much as what’s being done now.  I kind of get it; resentment and anger aren’t worth holding on to and all that; but still I don’t know if Hawaiian sovereignty folks would be very happy with that reasoning.

Finally, overall there were many examples showing almost universal racism by nearly all parties – New Englanders, Chinese, Japanese – and insistence on the importance of pure bloodlines.  But not by Hawaiians! They were always shown as very welcoming. The irony of the others racism is that all peoples are related already, anyway.

“The Last Days of Night” by Graham Moore (2017)

Hmmm, I really struggle labeling this “historical fiction”; the events are reality-based but with enough obvious fudging that I am tempted to label in alternative/speculate history. But the author fesses up to most of the deliberate inaccuracies and rearranging of timelines in an afterword, so I grudgingly forgive. (Though it does give me pause on accepting other “histories” I read as the truth … how much is due to the author’s bias? How much is due to only certain perspectives surviving the historical record? In that case, the whole truth may never actually be known, so maybe we just appreciate the stories as we know them, and learn from them what we will?)

This is the story of a patent infringement lawsuit between Thomas Edison and George Westinghouse regarding the electrical light bulb, as experienced by Westinghouse’s lawyer, Paul Cravath. It kind of turns into a biography of Cravath almost — in fact, in the same afterword the author says he was fascinated with Cravath and wanted to write about him, but the paucity of source materials forced him into doing it as a book of (reality-based) fiction.

The crux of the plot involves Cravath and Westinghouse enlisting Nikola Tesla to design an AC-based light bulb, meanwhile delaying as much as possible Edison’s lawsuit against Westinghouse for infringing on his DC-based design. The “War of the Currents” is also central to the events of the book.

Westinghouse is portrayed as fairly honorable and a good engineer; Edison not so much. He is derided as more of a greedy empire-builder than a scientist; and only just an experimentalist at that. He doesn’t care to investigate the underlying principles of electricity and create designs informed by the knowledge gained; rather he would prefer to test 1000 different materials for a part and see experimentally what works best. Tesla compares this in the book to telling Edison he wants to make 4-legged table, but Edison insists on trying a 2-leg and 3-leg version first … maddening to Tesla who knows those are futile designs, because he understands the underlying physics.

As I mentioned there was just a bit too much fictional license to trust… 1) insinuation that Edison (and then Westinghouse) started a fire that almost killed Cravath and Tesla (a fire did happen but neither were present), 2) Cravath breaking and entering the lab Harold Brown (an anti AC spokesman), 3) the dramatic deposition of Edison (apparently this more-or-less actually happened though!), 4) Tesla being hosted by Agnes Huntington for months following a mental breakdown, then Tesla inventing X-rays at Fisk University while in hiding from Edison’s hitmen; 5) Agnes Huntington living with a false identity.

“A Town Like Alice” by Nevil Shute (1950)

I’ve known about this book for quite a while, maybe since finding out about the satellite ground station base near Alice Springs. It’s kind of a neat place in a purely geographical sense, smack in the middle of Australia, in the rugged, rural, desolate Outback. Well, I was a little surprised upon listening to this book and finding that the (perhaps slight) majority takes place in British Malaya during the Japanese occupation in WWII, then the rest takes place not in Alice Springs, but in Queensland!

The story is narrated by a kindly, wise, and helpful lawyer (does this book predate the almost universal greedy/dishonest lawyer stereotype?) in late 1940’s London who tracks down Miss Jean Paget, who has inherited her long-lost uncle’s sizeable estate. Jean Paget was living in Malaya just before WWII working for a rubber plantation, and was captured during in the Japanese occupation along with several other expat British families. The men were all sent to a prison camp in Singapore, but the Japanese didn’t seem to know what to do with the women and children. They were marched around Malaya, from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, in poor conditions. Jean, though unmarried and one of the youngest adults, became a leader of the small group. Half of them died from disease before they were permitted to stay in a Malay village and work in the rice paddies, which they did for the remainder of the war.

Before settling down, the group had a very fateful encounter with a pair of Australian truck drivers, also captives of the Japanese who had been pressed into service. One in particular, Joe Harman, goes out of his way multiple times to illicitly bring them food and medicine. Joe goes a bit too far when he steals and delivers to them six of the local Japanese commander’s prize chickens. He is caught, nailed to a tree and beaten nearly to death. Jean and the women, traumatized after being forced to witness the scene before they are yet again marched away, think he has surely died.

Several years after the war, Jean and Joe independently find out important facts — Jean, returning to Malaya after her inheritance to dig a well for the village which took them in during the war, finds out Joe actually survived; and Joe learns that Jean is unmarried (during the trek she was caring for the baby of a mother who had died; thus Joe thought she was married). They independently travel across the world to see each other, and bypass each other in the process – Jean to Australia (from Malaya) and Joe to Britain. Kind of romantic, but don’t you think they could have been patient and written or something? Anyway, of course they fall in love.

But Jean doesn’t really like the idea of settling down in isolated Willstown, Queensland, where Joe manages a cattle station. She much preferred the similarly rural, yet more developed, Alice Springs which she had passed through in her search for Joe. Undeterred, she sets about making Willstown into “a town like Alice” by investing her inheritance in setting up new businesses, starting with a crocodile-skin shoe workshop (the book calls them “alligators” though … error on part of British author?), which Jean has some experience with due to working for a shoe firm in London after the war. She figures it will give unmarried girls a reason to settle in town. The shoe factory is followed by an ice cream parlor, a hair salon, a swimming pool, a cinema, and a grocery store.

Now, I appreciate Jean’s sound business sense, and admire her magnanimous empire-building scope. But I’m surprised by how what strikes me as the most daunting part of setting up all these businesses — all the bureaucracy and red tape, all the industry-specific legalities that must be followed — were pretty much a non-issue. Different time and place, I suppose.

It also strikes me that Jean’s vision of Alice inspiring her plans for Willstown was like the impression Jean and Joe made on each other during the few short weeks they met during the war. For long years thereafter, they each fantasized about the other despite mutually thinking it a lost cause, until one day their love was real and able to be fulfilled. Maybe this is a story about how dreams can inspire reality?

Must write something about the casual racism against Aborigines (“abos”) embedded in the storyline. First, they are barely worth mentioning half the time. When Joe talks about the workers on a station, he says something like “there’s only 3 who work there. Plus 9 boons.” meaning the 3 white men are the ones who really count — the Aborigines are some other class of person entirely. Then when Jean sets up the ice cream parlor, she obviously sets up a segregated counter, so the Aborigines can order their ice cream away from whites. It is portrayed as very nice and caring of her to think of them at all. Finally, during a rescue of an injured stock rider late in the plot (which seems tacked-on but was a nice demonstration of rural radio comms and airplane operations, which aerospace engineer Nevil Shute must have enjoyed writing about), a big deal is made about Jean being left “all alone” at the station (with several Aborigines…) and how she has to make a heroic 40 mile ride into town to relay a message to the authorities (even though several Aborigines were available).

“The Outcasts of Time” by Ian Mortimer (2018)

I really enjoyed this book – some strong similarities to “Sarum” which I also liked, including the setting and epic historical scope. But this time, our main characters stay the same as we travel through the ages. It begins in 1348, where two brothers, wool merchant William Beard and mason John of Raiment, are returning home, aghast at the apocalypse of the Black Death.  John tries to help a freshly-orphaned baby, who he calls Lazarus, but unfortunately it turns out the baby is sick and infects the brothers, as well as a nursemaid they enlist to help.

John, who has an innocent, good heart, is distraught that his attempt to do good (by saving a baby) turned out so poorly. He despairs of an eternity in purgatory unless he can do some other good deed to redeem himself. William is a bit more practical and skeptical, plus has been too much a fan of adultery to dare hope for any churchly salvation for himself, but agrees to help John however he can. The brothers know they are dying, but respond to a dream telling them to go to a ring of standing stones. There they are visited by the spirit of their mother (or perhaps a devil?) and told they would live 6 more days, but each day would be 99 years after the last one. John would rather see his wife and boys one last time, but reasons that he would probably just end up giving them the plague. Plus he is curious about what the future holds, so they agree to the experience.

1447 – Each day the brothers wake up in the same place they went to sleep, but 99 years have passed so the room and even building have often changed quite drastically. Plus they always have to explain their presence – “how did you get in here in the middle of the night?” This first day they spend talking to churchmen.  John is kind of an honest country bumpkin type, but his innocent oddness comes from living in the past rather than living in a rural location. In this first century, the brothers notice that people dress much more finely.  Perhaps an indication of prosperity since the population collapse during the plague?  Also people have family surnames now rather than strictly descriptive ones.

1546 – The brothers go to work mining tin.  They are amazed by clockwork machinery, that Catholicism is no more, and that women are learning to read. (John is illiterate.)

1645 – They have lunch with a wealthy family during the time of the civil war between Parliament and Royalists.  They are amazed at a polished mirror – in the brothers’ own day, no one really knew what they looked like.  Sadly they are taken advantage of and framed as spies. William takes the blame and is hanged (turns out he was only told 3 days by the spirit), but wants John to continue on, trying to do a good deed, to save the both of them now.

Through following John’s attempt at doing some good deed to redeem himself (and now William), the story weaves in a good question about morality: how can we do good, when “good” constantly changes with societal and religious expectations?  Is rescuing a soldier always good – what if his side is later condemned by history?

1744 – Each age seems more prosperous than the one before.  (Or maybe 1348 was really bad?). In any case – our heroes are perpetually surprised that conflict and strife still exist in times of such plenty.  Perhaps a demonstration of the bad side of hedonic adaptation – we eventually get used to our circumstances, be it good or bad. No matter where we are at, we’re wired to crave any step upward. Unfortunately this means human conflict will never cease… Anyway, on this day John is whipped and witness to abuse in a Victorian workhouse.

1843 – John laments to a kindly priest how “man is a devil to man” and never gets better despite advances technology and prosperity.  They have a nice lunch discussing Victorian social reform.  There’s a vibe of “hmmm, people are talking about it, so maybe in 99 years everything will all be better!” Oh you poor sweet thing… After lunch, John goes to see “Dr. Faustus”, annoying fellow theater-goers by talking to the devil in the play.

1942 – I saw this coming a few hundred years ago … I think the 99 years was chosen by the author to match up the Black Death with WWII. My prediction was that John would die in a bombing raid.  I was not far off! He dies trying to rescue a child in a fire caused by a bombing raid. (Though there was a fake ending where he’s hit by an army truck and sees his wife in a vision. I thought that could have been a good ending too.) Movies: the wonder of our age, akin to cathedrals or ships of the line or railroads of previous centuries. 

After his death, it turns out John did do good – by not bringing the plague home to his family, they lived and remembered him.  All the people he met were his descendants (both good and bad) and some of him lived on in them.

So I suppose the moral is: you can’t know what effect your actions will have on others, nor how others will judge your actions in the future. So just do your best, but know that by merely existing (and trying not to directly harm others) you serve as a link in an ancient and ongoing chain of human experience. Which is pretty cool.

“A Land Remembered” by Patrick D. Smith (1984)

This was an interesting look at around 100 years of Florida history, starting just before the Civil War, as seen by the MacIvey family. Tobias MacIvey was a dirt poor settler, scrounging for survival, who gets into the cattle business. Apparently, there were a lot of wild cows about, so all one had to do was round them up, put on your brand, fatten them up, then take them to market. Easy, right? Zech, son of Tobias, takes over and also expands into orange groves, followed by Sol who makes a fortune from the land he and his father presciently bought up over the years. In the end Sol dies a bitter man, upset at the encroachment of civilization on the wilderness which represents his family’s roots. (But that civilization is exactly what made him so rich…)

Anyway, the characters and plot are a bit thin – really they are just a way to showcase events from Florida history. In the first period, there were plenty of expected dangers for settlers to be wary of: panthers, rattlers, boars, gators, bears, wolves; cattle rustlers; hurricanes. Unexpected danger: mosquitos thick enough to choke a cow. Yikes!

Tobias was pressed into Confederate service as a cattle drover, then as a log cutter (for fortifications). But otherwise they were not affected much by the Civil War.

I didn’t know where the term “cracker” came from – thought it was somewhat derogatory. Maybe it is. But it came from the crack of the whip from the Florida cattle drivers.

I was perplexed at the family’s insistence at keeping chests full of gold coins locked up at home. Wouldn’t someone have broken in and stolen it when they were away for weeks/months on the cattle drives down to Punta Rassa?

Apparently it snowed quite a bit in Florida in 1895, killing many orange trees.

“Death Comes for the Archbishop” by Willa Cather (1927)

What an intriguing title…kind of misleading though. It’s not about the archbishop’s death until the very last chapter; for the majority he is very much alive and busy building up the church in Santa Fe, New Mexico for around 40 years, starting in the 1850s or so. Father Latour and Father Vallant are friends from France who join the missionary corps. After a few years in Ohio, they are given the more daunting task of ministering to the long-abandoned flock in New Mexico. Some places have been without official church support for two centuries.

The book isn’t really a cohesive record of their entire time there; rather it reads like a selection of the most notable incidents they encountered. A few that stuck out to me:

  • The fathers are inviting in to an isolated farmhouse off in the middle of nowhere. Their host seems a bit sketchy. When she has them alone, his Mexican wife warns them to flee. They do (and she does too later), and they find out the man has killed and robbed many travelers in the past.
  • A priest sets up a personal fiefdom atop a mesa among Indians. He lives like a king in his palace. But one day his anger gets the better of him and he kills a servant. The others rise up and throw him off the mesa.
  • Father Latour is taken into a secret shrine for shelter in a storm by his Indian guide. Deep in the cavern is a crack through which a giant underground river can be heard. Understandably other-worldly enough to attribute to primeval gods!
  • Father Vallant is eventually sent to minister to miners in the new settlements around Denver.

Very good writing, even without much plot.

“Corelli’s Mandolin” by Louis de Bernieres (1994)

The story takes place on the Greek island of Kefalonia (I’m writing it that way so I remember the hard “K” pronunciation – I listened to the book on audio, by the way, and the narrator was excellent – great accents all around), beginning shortly before the Italian invasion during WWII and continuing mostly through the war, but also much later. Pelagia is a beautiful but headstrong young lady who lives with her father, the crotchety yet wise Dr. Yannis. Pelagia’s mother died of illness many years before. Elements in the Italian army provoke a war by launching attacks on their own positions, with squads decked out with Greek or British equipment. Pelagia falls in love with Mandras, a fisherman, who goes off to fight for Greece and is spiritually broken and nearly killed by the fighting in Albania. The Italians eventually conquer the Greeks with the help of German military might, and a force is sent to occupy the island, which has been spared fighting thus far.

The occupiers are respectful, for the most part. A quartermaster almost apologetically requisitions a room in Dr. Yannis’s house for housing an Italian officer – the doctor will be paid rent, of course. The Greeks routinely abuse their occupiers verbally, and try to waste their time and resources – tricks which would get them quickly killed later in the war under the Germans or the Greek communists. The Italians are almost fondly remembered as a bunch of loveable ragamuffins after those other armies do their bit, with executions, rapes, and firing squads (justifying their atrocities because of Darwinism – “it is nature that the strong devour the weak, and nature is right.”)

Anyway, the officer who stays at the house is the young Captain Antonio Corelli, who is nearly a professional mandolin player. He is incredibly likeable and charming and in no time sweeps Pelagia off her feet. (I have to mention a super funny scene when Pelagia’s pet pine marten rests on the Captain’s lap while he’s daydreaming of Pelagia.) They obviously can’t do anything about their forbidden love in the near term, however.

The fall of Mussolini results in mass confusion amongst the Italian army and its allies.  Eventually the Germans are told to consider the Italians as enemies, since the new Italian govt is under the Allies.  And there are enough fascists left in the Italian command structure to ensure that the outnumbered Germans are able to take over on the island.  Corelli and his men soon run out of ammunition and sent to the firing squad – facing friends they had cavorted with at the beach weeks before. Miraculously, thanks to the actions of his friend Carlo, Corelli is only lightly wounded and later rescued and brought back to health by the doctor and Pelagia. Still in danger, he is forced to flee the island, but promises to return and marry Pelagia.

Now we are nearly 3/4 or more through the book, and time speeds up greatly. As mentioned, the Germans and later Greek communists (who Mandras ends up indoctrinated by) make the Italian occupiers seem like heavenly angels in comparison. Then in 1953 there is a giant earthquake which destroys much of the island’s infrastructure and buildings and kills the doctor. Pelagia raises a baby girl, left orphaned on the doorstep, and becomes convinced that Corelli must have been killed. She names the girl “Antonia”, after the name Corelli gave to his mandolin, which is still hidden in a secret compartment in the floor of the house, now a pile of rubble since the earthquake.

Antonia grows up and has a son, named Yannis after his adoptive grandfather. He digs up the mandolin and learns to play. He also brings Pelagia picture albums and other mementos long thought lost. It is interesting to hear the abbreviated, sanitized version of history she tells to her grandson … made me realize that we never really get the full picture of what happened in history – even from a firsthand observer we don’t always get the full picture.

The ending … really was terrible, I thought. (I seem to be writing that a lot lately about the books I read!!) It’s 1993 and Pelagia has been pining away her life, sad about her lost love. But then … he shows up at her restaurant one day! (Cephalonia has become very popular with tourists…particularly Germans and Italians. Another example of sanitized history – there’s a throwaway line about a German bringing his family there saying “Look, here’s where daddy was during the war! Isn’t it beautiful?” Obviously not saying anything about his part in the firing squads or mass rapes…) It turns out that he DID survive, and traveled back to Pelagia shortly after the war ended. But, walking toward her house in the evening, he saw her playing with little baby Antonia and assumed she had married and had a child, and therefore didn’t want him any longer. So he left … returning secretly every year just to see her from afar and make sure she was alright. After initial anger, she welcomes him back into her life…what little there is remaining, since they are both in their 70’s by now.

I don’t like the ending because I just can’t believe it. Corelli just assumes she’s married and happy? He doesn’t even say hi, or ask around town about her situation? Doesn’t even wonder who she married? And on the other side, Pelagia doesn’t try to find out what happened to Corelli, who she presumed lost in the war? Turns out he became a touring mandolin player of some renown, with published concerto recordings and worldwide concert tours. I think with a little digging she could have found him much earlier. I know we, the readers, are supposed to be all happy about love reuniting at the last, but … still Pelagia’s life at least could have been filled with much more happiness. Or not, maybe; who knows … maybe if they did get married early in life they would have grown apart and ended up hating each other or something.

There were a pair of quotes I liked, both about death (though that wasn’t really what the book was about at all):

“We all owe a death to nature.”

“Apart from birth, <death is> the only thing we don’t have a choice about.”

“All the Seas of the World” by Guy Gavriel Kay

Although it started with a different crop of characters and setting (Kay’s version of the Maghreb [Magriti], Muslim [Asharite] North Africa) it ended up being mostly a direct sequel to “A Brightness Long Ago.” It was interesting, but unfortunately not nearly as good as the last book. I think part of the problem was there was just too much going on…not as focused as last time.

Falco appears again, but seems to be more fixed in the tough “good guy” mode than he was in the last book where he was much more morally ambiguous.  Then again, he did have an ethical reckoning last time, so maybe he did change??  Anyway, not as interesting of a character now, he’s just the kindly old grandpa watching out for the freed-Muslim-slave assassin girl character.

And that girl has a telepathic link with another younger girl in Bischio … same one whose grandmother was wounded in a long ago race and rumored to be a witch, and whose father miraculously won a bet, lifting the family out of poverty, during Adria’s race. The telepathy was a bit more mystical/magical than Kay usually gets (I think), though often we get some thoughts from the newly made ghost when someone dies (usually lamenting on the brevity and regret of their shortened lives), so there is some precedent.

The plot involves a combined attack (holy crusade?) on an Asharite city, Tarouz, in the Magriti, led up by Folco. There was a bit of clever maneuvering by Falco regarding the Esperanan fleet: they were an unreliable ally and ultimately a threat to Battaria (even though they were temporarily allies for the crusade), so he sent word late that the Abenevan army marching out was just for show.  If the Esperanans were loyal, they would join at Tarouz as planned.  If they were disloyal and greedy, he figured they would attack an undefended (so they thought) Abenevan.  They chose the latter and were wiped out when the Abenevan army returned.  You know it’s great strategizing when both possible outcomes are in your favor!

“A Brightness Long Ago” by Guy Gavriel Kay

This was a great book – I looked forward to listening to it and found myself thinking about it other times (including sometimes just saying some of the names to myself…they just sound so cool!). My only complaint is that the ending wasn’t quite what I had hoped for (gee, I think that’s the same thing I thought about the other Kay book I read several years ago?!)

Like that other book I read, this is “historical fantasy” – like historical fiction, but taking place in some alternate version of our own history. But the setting and some of the characters are easily identified as analogs to the Italian city states during the early Renaissance. I’m not sure exactly why Kay goes to such lengths to essentially recreate a time and place that actually existed, but maybe it just makes him feel free to make up fictional stories in such a setting than risk someone believing his stories actually happened. I can understand that motivation!

The story is divided up nicely into three sections, each with mostly the same characters but separated by several months or a year.

First we have (what I’ll call) Act I: “The Assassination”, where the lovely Adria di Ripoli (di Medici) is on an undercover mission for her uncle, the mercenary warlord Folco di Corsi. She’s the regular “tribute” provided to the Count of Mylasia, a deplorable individual who abuses his consorts often to death. Adria, who strives for a role in society beyond the stifling choices offered to a noble woman of the time, is assisted somewhat accidentally (well, at least spontaneously) by Guidanno Chera, son of a tailor of Saressa (Venice) but who was educated at a unique school in Avania.

Next up is Act II: “The Race”, where once again Adria is working for Folco, this time at the annual horse race a Bishio. As a woman, she is almost a joke entry, but Folco knows her skills and bets heavily on her – this is his money making scheme. Guidanno is also at Bishio, temporarily working for Folco’s archrival, Teobaldo de Remiggio, another mercenary warlord (it was typical at the time for city states to hire mercenary armies, rather than maintaining their own armies). Guidanno recognizes Adria and deduces Falco’s plan, letting Teobaldo know. Adria does well in the race, and she and Guidanno share a little spicy fireworks together. In a humorous moment, Adria’s father comes that night to retrieve her from her wild oat sowing with Folco, and accidentally almost kills Antonami Sardi, the foolish heir of the richest family in Battaria (Italy).

Finally, we have Act III … The Big Letdown. It was shaping up so nicely – Folco and di Remiggio hired by opposing sides for a siege of Bishio. I expected some amazing, explosive climax where all the character arcs come together in some awesome way, but it just kind of fizzled. Due to the news of the fall of Sarantium (Byzantium) of all things…this prompted a halt to all war in Battaria and really shocked folks. (Apparently, the real world fall of Constantinople was not quite as unexpected or impactful in the West.)

Some final thoughts:

  • Encountering a noble is dangerous and deadly. They’re not necessarily cruel for no reason; they are constantly in danger as well and must minimize their risk (even risks to their public honor, which could weaken them)
  • Truth doesn’t matter; those in power twist it to meet their needs
  • Psychology of siege: Folco goes close enough to walls to goad someone foolish enough to take a shot, then demands their immediate surrender (and to throw the fool over the wall) or else he would come back in the spring and destroy them. Once they give up one of their own, more likely to follow through – sunk cost fallacy makes them more invested.
  • One thing I really liked is that there aren’t any real, clear-cut villains. Everyone does some good and some bad, but always justified and they are all admirable in their own way. For a while, it looked like di Remiggio was going to be the big baddy, but even he was not so bad in the end.

“News of the World” by Paulette Jiles

The year is 1870; the place is Texas. Captain Kidd, a somewhat crotchety old veteran of the war of 1812 and later campaigns, then a printer, makes a living traveling to small towns along the frontier reading newspapers. News is hard to come by in these parts, and so his readings are usually well attended. At one reading, he is approached by an acquaintance who asks him to deliver a ten-year old girl, recently “rescued” after being kidnapped four years earlier in a Kiowa raid, back to her relatives in Texas. Captain reluctantly agrees.

Somewhat predictably, but still in a believable and sweet manner, Captain grows attached to the sorry little character in his care. A Kiowa in the body of a white girl, she seems destined for a hard life. Slowly, she somehow chips away at Captain’s gruff exterior and a real bond is formed. When he finally delivers her to a distant aunt and uncle, who obviously couldn’t care less about her return, beyond having a servant to help out on their farm, Captain rescues and adopts the girl himself.

A nice story, with good heartwarming bits and also some action. I think it could definitely make a pretty good movie.

Sidenote: one of the events providing much of the tension in the area, and in one town in particular, is an upcoming election for Texas governor (Davis vs. someone who I can’t remember). The people are so divided over this that they literally are fighting and having shootouts in the streets. Anyway, it kind of gives me some hope for our current times of seemingly great political division … it has happened before; this too shall pass. (one way or another)