Last week when the whole world seemed ready to explode and nothing made any sense, I asked my “What We’re Reading” colleagues if they’re finding hope or escape or something in books. As usual, their responses buoyed and enlightened me. Meredith and I retreat to our respective corners—hers sf/fantasy, mine hard-boiled crime—and come out swinging for the escapist team. Henrietta rails against political shenanigans and mourns the loss of an activist. Mahnaz and Stephanie, both big fans of the podcast Serial, compare notes on Adnan’s Story, a nonfiction accompaniment to the runaway hit. Escape reality, confront reality, change reality: we try all avenues this week.
Liz French, Senior Editor, LJ Reviews
My wholly escapist read turned into a “the more things change…” sort of story. As I mentioned in last week’s “French on Fridays” column, I’m reading the “lost” second book in Erle Stanley Gardner writing as A.A. Fair’s “Cool and Lam” series, The Knife Slipped (Hard Case Crime). The 1939 title was rejected by the publisher because big boss lady Bertha Cool came off too hard, coarse, and cruel in it. So Gardner simply shelved it and wrote another Book 2 in the series. Nearly 70 years later, Hard Case prints this version and it’s excellent. You get a little bit of the Bertha Cool outlook in this excerpt, where her operative, naïve Donald Lam, is defending the honor and dignity of political reformers and the little people. Bertha’s having none of that:
“My God, Donald, don’t make the mistake of trying to protect the dear people. You can’t protect a man from himself. You don’t suppose you could talk to a sheep and turn him into a bull, do you?”
I said hotly, “That’s not the same thing. Essentially, people are honest. They—“
“Sure, they’re honest,” Bertha Cool interrupted, “but they’re lazy, and they’re mentally inefficient. They like to be hypnotized. They love to be fooled, and they’re suckers for sales psychology.[…]
No, Donald, precious, people are sheep. They were made to be sheared. They love to worship public officials who play politics. Every eight years, the people swallow some politician hook, line, and sinker and make him president. They hold him on the political stomach for six years. Then they commence to get indigestion because the politicians quit pouring the soda bicarbonate of publicity into their stomachs. At the end of eight years, they vomit him up in order to swallow someone else and the process is repeated.”
Meredith Schwartz, Executive Editor, LJ
I am reading Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen (Baen), the latest in Lois McMaster Bujold’s “Vorkosigan Saga” series—or rather, putting off starting it, because I don’t want it to be over. But it’s a library book, so due-date pressure is going to win. As a series, it’s space opera with a dash of romance and comedy of manners, so there’s certainly an element of escapism, but also inspiration: Cordelia Vorkosigan (the hero’s mother) is probably the closest thing I have to a literary role model; she has certainly faced her share of hard choices.
Henrietta Verma, WWR emerita
In between foaming at the mouth regarding world events and the idea of a possibly larger platform for Mike Pence, I’m reading The Boy Who Could Change the World: The Writings of Aaron Swartz (New Pr.), with an introduction by Lawrence Lessig. Though I disagree with many of Swartz’s positions regarding intellectual property, his writings (each piece is surprisingly brief) are an education and a wonderful chance to view the workings of the kind of intellect that’s too rare. If only he had stayed around to actually change the world.
Two Takes on a Serial Spin-off
Mahnaz Dar, Assistant Managing Editor, LJS
I’m a huge fan of crime books and stories: Law & Order (in all its iterations), Making a Murderer, the novels of Ruth Rendell and P.D. James, and, of course, Serial, the podcast that rocked a nation. So Rabia Chaudry’s Adnan’s Story: The Search for Truth and Justice after Serial (St. Martin’s), which explores the case in depth, was a natural fit for me. Chaudry, whose brother was best friends with Adnan Syed (the man at the heart of Serial, convicted in 1999 of murdering his ex-girlfriend, Hae Min Lee), brought the case to NPR and has been crucial in advocating for Syed. Though her brother’s friendship with Syed makes her a bit biased, she has done a great job so far in unpacking many of the prejudices that she believes led to the conviction of Syed, who is Muslim, and of generally depicting some of the cultural clashes that both Lee and Syed were up against (the children of immigrants, they each faced hostility from their families when it came to dating). Chaudry is also a meticulous researcher, displaying mountains of evidence. Needless to say, I’m counting down the hours until I can hop on the train home and continue reading!
Stephanie Sendaula, Associate Editor, LJ Reviews
I recently reviewed Adnan’s Story for my colleague Amanda Mastrull. I’m a fan of listening to podcasts on my commute to work and Serial has always been one of my favorites. Fans of the podcast might remember the author as the longtime family friend of Adnan Syed who first brought the case to the attention to Serial host Sarah Koenig. A lawyer by trade, Chaudry provides behind-the-scenes insight into the case. Think of it like special features on a DVD. You knew part of the story while listening to the podcast. Now, this book is here to fill in the details. A few weeks ago, Syed’s conviction was vacated and he was granted a new trial. I still can’t get over the lividity findings that are detailed in the book. (Rolling Stone magazine believes those can help him win his retrial.) Long story short: nothing adds up. Reading about our flawed prison system and the enduring shame that families of the incarcerated experience was difficult, but it was completely necessary.