Cluster Critiques
In mid-December when one of my book clubs was collecting recommendations from members for best books of 2021, I received an email from Tracy LaQuey Parker recommending Aquanaut, which is about the rescue of the 12 young soccer team members and their coach from the Tham Luang cave in Thailand, written by Rick Stanton, one of two British cave divers who conducted the rescue.
Tracy said, “I was just messaging with Rick Stanton last night. He and Ron Howard had just watched Howard’s movie about the rescue, ‘Thirteen Lives,’ and said the diving scenes were really good, and that Viggo Mortensen did a good job playing him.” Tracy had met Stanton at the Telluride Film Festival. (Stanton and Tracy are pictured below in Telluride).
I pre-ordered the audible version of Aquanaut and made that our 2022 holiday road trip book. Not only was the story of the rescues enthralling, but Stanton fills in with his many other hair-raising stories of cave diving rescues around the world. “When there is an incident in a difficult underwater cave that is beyond the reach of most cave divers, I’m typically called directly to help,” says Stanton.
I’m a sucker for death-defying tales and uncommon topics - like the perils of cave diving - but it was the author’s character which came out vividly in this book that caught my attention. He so unapologetically lives life on his terms, (even dissing Elon Musk’s awkward attempts to help with the rescue), and he is very precise and passionate about the ethics and accuracy of his craft. I couldn’t relate to much else about him, but I found his focus intriguing.
Despite the fact that I knew the kids would be rescued from the cave, Stanton’s telling of the rescue made me feel the story could tragically change with one judgement error or an unforeseen problem, and that made me feel like I was in the story, which for me is such an important hallmark of a good book. Read or listen to Aquanaut. You can also view the exceptional documentary, The Rescue, on Disney+.
The Martian, by Andy Weir
It had been years since I read The Martian by Andy Weir, but I enjoyed his more recent book, Hail Mary so much that I thought I’d enjoy re-reading The Martian. I didn’t.
You are probably familiar with The Martian from the movie starring Matt Damon, and is about an astronaut stranded on Mars. I’m not sure if Andy Weir’s writing is best in small doses, or if it was Wil Wheaton’s (of Star Trek fame) over-animated reading of the Audible version, but everything about the book began to grate on my nerves about half way through. Both books are good, but if you’ve a low-tolerance for writing “sameness” (same tone, pace, characters, vocabulary, phrasing, etc), which I apparently do, I recommend you just read Weir’s Hail Mary and walk away. I wish I had.
I hate it when authors disappoint me, and what a terrifying prospect that must be for them. The terror of disappointing their readers!
On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman
One of my sons is intrigued by military history – a topic for which I have no stomach because I cannot seem to reconcile killing over philosophical differences. Don’t get me wrong, I am extremely appreciative of the military personnel who have and continue to work behind the scenes to keep my family safe and our country the home of democracy. But when my son told me he was reading a book by an ex-military person who had dedicated much of his life to investigating how soldiers are able to kill (or not), and that his research indicated that up until Vietnam, comparatively few soldiers actually killed, or even pulled the triggers of their guns – I knew I had to know more on this topic.
Apparently soldiers, especially during the Civil War, which has the most recent documentation pre-WWI, were so reluctant to kill enemy soldiers across from them in battle they would fake rifle recoil, rather than admit their fear of killing another person, and/or purposely aim above the heads of enemy soldiers rather than kill them. Grossman, the author, quotes almost unbelievable “kill-ratios” (the huge number of bullets expended in relation to the number of few enemy killed) – not just in the Civil War, but also in WWI, WWII and Korea. This was a big problem for the military, which finally figured out that training soldiers to shoot at bulls-eye type targets was their mistake. So they changed their training to use targets shaped like humans – to better desensitize soldiers to shooting at other soldiers - and adopted many other protocols and psychological techniques, and when they did that, beginning with the Vietnam war, the kill-ratio was vastly improved (if one can conscientiously claim that to be an improvement).
The information presented in On Killing is controversial, and significantly based on challenged research by Brigadier General S.L.A. Marshall (see below excerpt from Marshall's Wikipedia page.)
"His most famous work was Men Against Fire: The Problem of Battle Command, which claimed fewer than 25% of men in combat actually fired their weapons at the enemy. While the data used to support this has been challenged, his conclusion that a significant number of soldiers do not fire their weapons in combat has been verified by multiple studies performed by other armies, going back to the 18th century."
Grossman also touches on the psychologically impact on soldiers returning from the Vietnam war to an unappreciative country, talks about PTSD, and suggests that video games' desensitize killing, but those discussions were much more superficial and thus more of a distraction than informative.
I'm sure there are many books about what goes on in the mind of a soldier (or anyone) when called on or faced with the need to kill another human, but this is the first I've read, and it provided such a different perspective and gave me more context for my own personal struggles with the issue of war.
Billy Summers, by Stephen King
I listen to Stephen King books mostly because my hubby loves him, and I admit I have a few Stephen King favorites myself (The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordan and Full Dark – No Stars), and Billy Summers started off with promising potential – rich characters, vivid descriptions, deep thoughts.
Billy Summers is a master assassin, researching his job methodically, plotting every nano-second, covering every possible contingency, and although we know he’s a killer, we like Billy because he only kills despicable villains. We like him because he’s writing a book about himself and it’s a good story. Clever huh? A book within a book. We also like Billy because he’s retiring. This hit is his last, and we’re so happy for him. And then everything changes, and not for the better.
Billy sort of accidentally rescues a girl who has been raped and left for dead. And then, well, I really don’t know because I metaphorically slept through the last 250 pages of the book. I vaguely recall it turning into the story of a young girl with daddy issues falling for an older man struggling to retain his "macho," wrapped in a superficial, convoluted story line. Oh Stephen, Et tu!
Vanderbilt: The Rise and Fall of an American Dynasty, by Anderson Cooper and Katherine Howe
I vividly recall meeting a woman 25-or so years ago who, when I asked what she did for a living said, “I manage my assets.” I must have had a blank expression on my face when I replied, “Oh, that’s nice.” I had no idea what she meant. At that time I didn’t have any assets. The bank owned my house and car, and I had little savings. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I came to realize that people who inherit or earn large sums of money become burdened with the not so simple task of hanging onto that money.
The Vanderbilt “Dynasty,” the topic of this biography by CNN journalist and Vanderbilt heir Anderson Cooper (his mom was Gloria Vanderbilt), was created by Cornelius “Commodore” Vanderbilt, an American business magnate who built his wealth in railroads and shipping and is considered the second richest man in American history EVER (depending on the source/adjusted to current time). For those who must know John D, Rockefeller is the undisputed #1 richest man in American history.
If you can get past the conspicuous consumption and entitlement issues revealed in this well-penned biography, there are some fun and interesting stories about what jaw-dropping American wealth looked like during the first half of the 20th Century. The Vanderbilt’s and other aristocratic American families threw lavish “one-upmanship” parties costing more than $6,000,000, had ambitions as shallow as “dressing well” and “spending money beautifully,” and literally got away with murder.
But the sad undercurrent of Anderson’s book is that money can’t buy you love or fix everything. A long line of Vanderbilt’s failed miserably at managing their assets, and by the time the dynasty reached Cooper’s end of the lineage, there was literally nothing left.
Some people are offended by the wealth of the Vanderbilt’s (Musk’s, Bezos’, Gates’, Zuckerberg’s, Buffet’s etc.), but I question what gives us the right to say how much money is OK, and how much is too much. America was founded on the principle that people have the right to make money. Our constitution was created by a bunch of small business owners who didn't want to pay taxes to the King of England. Capitalism is woven into the fabric of the American DNA.
If you’re a wealth voyeur, smug socialist, or just like biographies, you will probably enjoy this book. I did.
Dolly Parton, Songteller: My Life in Lyrics, by Dolly Parton
I’m pretty sure Dolly Parton has a better chance being elected President of the United States than Kamala Harris, or any woman, but not as good a chance as practically anyone with a penis. Wow, I’ll catch some flak for that statement, but here’s my real point. Everyone loves Dolly Parton, because she has the courage to be her unique self without offending anyone, and that is indeed an incredibly rare and valuable human attribute.
In Songteller Parton through long, live interviews (this is not a traditional written memoir) gives us a glimpse into the milestones of her life. I say glimpse and milestones because Dolly skips over periods of her life, touching lightly on her childhood, how she writes (one of the more interesting aspects of this book), and her beginnings in and progression through the music industry.
In fact, you can learn more about Dolly on her Wiki page, so don’t go into this biography thinking you’ll discover the “real” Dolly. She’d be the first to admit there’s not much real about her other than her personality and character. But you’ll enjoy the ride anyway because we all love listening to Dolly Parton sing, talk, laugh, anything really. One thing that jumped out at me was how much time she spent talking about her relationship with country music icon, Porter Wagner who recruited her into the Grand Ole Opry. Dolly said again and again they were just business partners and close friends – which of course made me think there’s much more to that story, and maybe the flawless Dolly is human after all.
Songteller overflows with what we love most about Dolly Parton – her beautiful singing, endearing colloquialisms, and pure, unique Dolly-ism. Listen to the audible version.
Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty, by Patrick Radden Keefe
We all embrace and tell the story we can live with, justifying questionable decisions and actions so we can sleep at night. Where is the line in the sand that differentiates justification and abomination? Well, that’s why we have congress to create the rules, the supreme court to further define those rules, and why attorney’s make a lot of money.
Empire of Pain is about a family of ambitious brothers, the Sacklers, who according to their story, built their massive wealth on relieving people’s pain, or, according to author Patrick Keef’s story, a greedy family’s unconscionable capitalization on pain-killer addiction .
According to Keef, and hundreds of successful lawsuits, by aggressively marketing OxyContin, despite knowing how addictive and dangerous the drug was, the Sacklers and their company, Purdue Pharma, are responsible for half a million Americans deaths from overdoses and the tragedies of millions more addicted to the drug. The Sacklers claim they created quality of life for many more millions who suffer from pain.
I couldn’t help reflecting on the impacts of alcohol and cigarettes, which have over centuries, killed many more people, and yet I can think of no particular, singular family to which the responsibility of those deaths have been pinned. Rather, over the past 50 years American regulatory agencies have advised us “Smoking may be hazardous to your health” and “Don't drink and drive.” I have to wonder if our nation’s more recent access to mass communication has changed substance abuse from a medical and/or moral issue into a lynch mob solution. I’m not saying let the Sacklers off the hook, I’m saying why not prosecute/persecute equally - and the FDA sure needs to be held accountable! They approved the distribution of OxyContin.
In addition to a good bit of history about the drug industry, and the inspiring (yet sordid) story of how the Sacklers scrabbled their way from poverty to extreme wealth, this book is an interesting, behind the curtain look at the prestige Sackler family members enjoyed in the society and art world, who also embraced the story that served them, accepting millions of dollars and art donations from the Sacklers.
Empire of Pain is less about the sketchy underbelly of the pharmaceutical industry, and more about one major player, the Sacklers, who unlike many drug cartel kingpins relieved of their wealth and serving prison sentences, are vacationing in the Maldives and still have most of the $13,000,000,000 they made off the backs of people with OxyContin addiction.
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