Sag Harbor: Not Really A Novel

Sag Harbor: A Novel seemed an appropriate read for my first summer outside the city in a long time. I've always felt a special magic generated in seasonal communities, where residents own summer homes, come together for the beach days and the barbecues, then drift back to their fall-winter-spring residences and lives. Colson Whitehead did not disappoint in his ability to capture that summer vacation atmosphere, to invoke family life in the 80's, or to paint the bitter-sweetness of coming-of-age. What he did fail to do was write a novel.

I was about two-thirds of the way through the book when I turned back to the cover, in a moment of doubt, to discover that I was not reading Whitehead's memoir, but something he called a novel. I don't have any problem with the fact that Whitehead drew heavily from his own life experience when writing Sag Harbor. But to define the book as a novel, it would have to have a plot.

At the beginning of Sag Harbor, Whitehead hinted at some possible themes: there was the promising idea of duality (disidentification with his "false twin" brother, the duality of his summer life vs. his winter life, finding his place both in his racial community and in white-dominated private Manhattan schools). Unfortunately this duality theme fell away and was not revisited at the end of the novel. Whitehead brought up the coming-of-age theme and the meaning of family theme more consistently throughout the book- but all these themes, like the story line, meandered through the narrative, blending time, place, and situation in much the same way an elderly reminiscer wanders through his cannon of favorite memories- with no regard to dramatic effect or chronology.

I don't mean to sound too harsh about Sag Harbor. It was a pleasant read with a good sense of humor, had memorable and interesting characters, contained beautiful descriptive passages, showed a great command of the language, and created that nice, summer vacation ambiance I was seeking. But it falls into the "enjoy the ride, it's all gonna be ok" mainstream fiction category (although the plot of Sag Harbor was far less coherent than that of The Song Is You). I prefer a lot more drama in something advertised as a novel. I want to be addicted to my current read, anxious to find out what happens next.

On Amazon Sag Harbor is #1,595 in Books and is #1,094 in the Kindle store.

The Silver Pigs

I didn't need Wikipedia to verify that Lindsey Davis, author of the The Silver Pigs, was born in England. Davis writes with distinctly British class-conscious humor. Like Terry Pratchett and China Miéville, Davis builds deliciously complex worlds teeming with distinctive characters and defined by social stratification. And, of course, his protagonist of choice comes does not come from the upper echelons of society.

The main difference between Davis and his spec fiction counterparts is that Davis isn't writing about a fantasy world, but is writing about Ancient Rome. In The Silver Pigs, protagonist Falco is the ancient version of a private eye. Falco has a lot in common with the Maltese Falcon-era private eye. His landlord is hounding him for the rent, a damsel in distress is seriously complicating his life, and his devotion to the case is going to force him into slave labor and freezing-cold deprivation in an ancient British mine. Oh, wait...I guess that last part is just Falco.

I am not an expert in the history of Ancient Rome. But having recently read Empires of Trust-- How Rome Built-- and America is Building-- a New World (Thomas F. Madden) I can verify that Davis got certain details about life in Ancient Rome correct. The attitude of Ancient Romans toward Ancient Greeks, for instance, was depicted by Davis just as Madden described it- somewhat the way Americans traditionally view the French as very intellectual and a little snobby. So, as with all truly fun mystery stories, the reader not only enjoys a good who-dunnit, but learns a little about an interesting topic at the same time- in this case, about life in the ancient world.

The Silver Pigs the first in a series of 19 (to date) Marcus Didius Falco mysteries. The Silver Pigs ranks #34,931 in Books on Amazon. There is no Kindle version available. However, Davis's most recent book in the series, Alexandria, is available on the Kindle. Alexandria ranks #2,674 in the Kindle store, and #4,876 in Books.

The Little Stranger

School is ending, summer vacation about to begin. This was always my favorite time of the year to relax with a sprawling Victorian-era novel, or better yet, a Victorian-era ghost story. Even though I'm no longer on a school schedule, my urge for that slowly unwinding, creepy tale remains. Fortunately Sarah Waters anticipated my need and published The Little Stranger on April 30, 2009.

It is one thing to read Jane Eyre, The Wyvern Mystery, or Dracula for a dose of Victorian-era gothic, but why would anyone want to read a Victorian-era ghost story published about a month before Apple announced the iPhone 3GS? The answer is that Sarah Waters writes with a modern perspective on the death of the Victorian era, and The Little Stranger is a love letter to the now extinct gothic novel.

Waters speaks to the modern reader's nostalgia for Victorian-era gothic by touching her hat to the conventions of these tales. Her protagonist is a family doctor, a man of science, reason, and compassion. Her setting is a magnificent, but crumbling, haunted house. The haunted descend into very Victorian-style madness. And, of course, there is plenty of unspoken sexual tension. With her established conventions creating a backdrop of nostalgia, Waters then writes about the decline of the Victorian era, the end of a way of life that brought us the Brontës, Le Fanu, Stoker. Her protagonist doctor is concerned about the end of his way of life, as events in the story take place on the eve of establishing nationalized health care in England. Her haunted manor house is crumbling a little more than necessary for traditional gothic ambiance. In fact, Hundreds Hall had been partially stripped and ravaged to house soldiers during the war. The family are struggling to hold onto the house, and selling off great tracts of surrounding land to pay the bills. And because the government won't pay for public utilities to run to its farm, even the dairy is failing. So of course the family, the haunted, are fading aristocrats, people with land and title living miserable, deprived, and desperate lives. The modern world has passed them by, and they are struggling, isolated and alone, knowing that one day their property will be converted into a smart new housing development. As for the sexual tension, even that takes an unconventional turn.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Little Stranger. It's a totally satisfying ghost story, tipping its hat to convention, then going beyond convention to describe an interesting historical transition that ended the age of one of my favorite genres. I also appreciated the way Waters treated the mystery of the ghost. Waters gives her own firm opinion on the strange events at Hundreds Hall, but leaves the reader to connect the dots, and even leaves a little space for the reader to come to his or her own conclusion.

On Amazon The Little Stranger is #144 in Books and #14 in genre fiction. It is #145 in the Kindle Store.