Peachy Reads

Mary Norris is a longtime copy editor at the esteemed New Yorker , the literary weekly that is known for its razor-sharp focus on fact-checking and punctilious attention to grammar and style.   Though Norris ruminates on many stylistic issues like the serial comma and the proper use of hyphens (yikes, sure I’ve made errors above), this book is far from another Strunk & White.  In between musings on grammar and style, Norris fills the book with interesting anecdotes about the culture and personalities behind the scenes at The New Yorker and adds some color from her Cleveland upbringing and years leading to her career in publishing.  At the end of this short book is a wonderful ode to the pencil, and a detailed description of a visit to the Paul A. Johnson Pencil Sharpener Museum in Logan, Ohio.  It reads almost like an essay from The New Yorker itself, which I suppose makes sense!  Must go to that museum (uh-oh, sentence fragment).

Henry and Celia are two CIA operatives who worked together at the Vienna office when a large scale hostage-taking event occurred on a passenger jet on the tarmac at the airport.  The event goes horribly wrong and there is speculation that one of the CIA operatives in the field office was feeding info to the terrorist ringleader.  Was it Celia?  Was it Henry?  They were lovers, nearly to the point of long term commitment, but then their paths abruptly diverge after the terrorist event.  When they meet up again years later, they hash out the details leading up to that awful day, in alternating chapters that offer differing perspectives on how events may have unfolded. All the Old Knives has the unusual distinction of being both a spy novel and a relationship novel, a mix that is mostly unheard of. It also distinguishes itself by being structured as an extended conversation between two people at a restaurant table a la “My Dinner with Andre”.  It's a short but sophisticated nove

Sometimes a dose of nonfiction that reads like a novel is just the reading fix I need, and Erik Larson does not disappoint.  After the Titanic, the sinking of the Lusitania is probably the most catastrophic civilian maritime disaster of the 20th century, and there are stories to tell from both ends of the torpedo.  Larson profiles some of the passengers, the crew of the German submarine that sank the ship, provides insight into the ongoing war and the United States’ reluctance to become involved, the secret intelligence gathering efforts of the Brits, and even shines a light into Woodrow Wilson’s romantic persona as he courts a woman he falls head over heels in love with after the death of his first wife.  Of course the tragic end of the luxury liner is the apex of the narrative.  The ship sank in 18 minutes and the loss of life was catastrophic.  A fascinating story, well told.