With their chances of winning WW2 quickly waning, Imperial Japan hurls one last Pacific offensive against the US at Leyte Gulf. Devising a three-prong attack with top and bottom feints designed to draw US ships away from the center, Japan nearly pulled off a dramatic victory. Against all odds and logic, the center held. This story draws the focus of WW2 down to that center offensive through the San Bernardino straight—where dramatically over-matched US forces stymied what should have been overwhelming forces. There is some well-handled big picture stuff, but the guts and glory of this book is the staggering amount of detail about the American “oil can sailors” and their fate. Once it gets rolling the narrative will take your breath away. Shifting perspective from ship to ship during the course of the battle could have made the book uneven but the tempo never slows. So much is going on, and clearly related, that I kept being stunned when given a time check reminding me almost everything was happening within a 6am to 8am window. Because of the often staggering amount of detail, kept having flashbacks of the first time I saw SAVING PRIVATE RYAN and their assault on Omaha Beach. Even a watered down filming of this could have the same effect. If you love the sea and history, how people and rise and fall confronted by hell, then grab a copy of this and pull up a deck chair.

Oliver Sacks is always entertaining. Give him a topic like hallucinations and he’s guaranteed to keep your attention. The appeal of much of his work is the plethora of patient & personal anecdotes that he peppers his books with. And the breadth of his coverage here is impressive: hallucinations derived from physical & emotional trauma, the blind missing their eyesight, epilepsy, drug use, sleep issues, eye disease, migraines, delirium etc. Within these strengths though is a modest weakness. So much is covered with so many rich anecdotes that I wanted time to breath. There were areas I would like to have been expanded upon. What was involved in the study of these various issues. Where are these studies going. What of the myriad repercussions teased—why don’t blind people realize that their hallucinations aren’t real simply because they know they can’t see—if 19th century literature was influenced by authors either having or being aware of the euphoria before epileptic seizures, then how far does that influence go—if the fortification illusion universally caused by migraines shows up in art patterns around the world, then what else shows up around the world in this way and what does it say about migraines. No book can cover everything and it is definitely a plus that Sacks brought up so many thoughts that tantalize, but some expansion somewhere would have been welcome. It’s all interesting, the chapter on drugs less so because our culture manages to talk about drugs a lot already, but most interesting to me were the chapters on migraines and sleep deprivation because they have a more personal relevance. This is the third Oliver Sacks book I’ve read and you can pretty much apply my overall response to this book to all three. All have been worth the time.

This book was mysteriously gifted to me by an old friend—having not spoken to him for decades—the arrival took on the aspect of a visitation. Like the central event of the book, something amazing and unknowable was about to open up before my reading eyes. Lured in by the Canterbury Tales format, I’m a sucker for tales of tale tellers telling tales, layer upon layer of story builds a universe & more. Religions are woven into science fiction into action adventure into myth building into mystery-thriller into cultural origin stories into noir detective novel and into straight up eye popping horror. A little slow to begin as the first story lays down a necessary religious foundation (with some ghastly horror elements)—and as with most things religious I tended to have my doubts—but soon the book takes off. I love books that blend elements—this was everything I could want including one of the most marvelous bad guys/monsters/deities I’ve come across in the Shrike. The only down side is that this is ultimately all just a set up for book two in the series, THE FALL OF HYPERION that I think is even better. Just astonishing.

Fantastic conclusion to what was created by the first book--HYPERION.

See excerpt of that review below.


“Religions are woven into science fiction into action adventure into myth building into mystery-thriller into cultural origin stories into noir detective novel and into straight up eye popping horror...I love books that blend elements—this was everything I could want including one of the most marvelous bad guys/monsters/deities I’ve come across in the Shrike. The only down side is that this is ultimately all just a set up for book two in the series, THE FALL OF HYPERION that I think is even better. Just astonishing.”

Another Paul Auster novel that left me breathless. Day to day reality is as fragile as glass and as elusive as a reflection. Probably the most depressing book that didn’t depress me—the most frustrating characters that didn’t frustrate me. Auster allows his characters to drop the real world to reach for easy living—creating a slow cascade of chaos. One dream suddenly becomes another. Absurd becomes matter of fact. The ending, hard to imagine any escape, is perfectly executed.

Thought of this book while reading Ottessa Moshfegh’s MY YEAR OF REST AND RELAXATION (wildly different but I could see the two books sitting down and having a nice chat). Both authors narrate like they are at a distance but their writing styles draw you in emotionally to understand their characters without hating them. Difficult achievement in both books.

Not so much a book really as a long article with an abundance of photographs. My being a Dodger fan dates back to the very early seventies so there was much of interest here for me. Likely only to be found in used book stores or library book sales where my wife Gail found it for me.

Little remembered today, but one of the biggest celebrities coming out of WWII because of his groundbreaking cartoons, Bill Mauldin deserves to be remembered. In many ways, his earnest and honest yet still humorous takes on the life of the front line soldier helped generate the modern political cartoon and his influence can be seen even in today's grapic novels. A hero to every GI suffering the indignities of warfare and army idiocy, his postwar career was uneven until settling in to being an award winning political cartoonist as well as war hoping journalist. While the book is a good and informative read, it suffers from lacking some depth....too brief a take on a fascinating subject. A website where some of his work can be appreciated: http://oddlots.digitalspace.net/upfront/upfront.html

Every Thompson book is my favorite while I'm reading it but this one managed to stay near the top when I was done. A trio of hard boiled characters each desperate in their own way hoping for the quick score that will "fix" everything. Except they are incapable of playing nice together. The unfolding of who is playing who for a sucker and how is true Thompson. While devious and unfeeling, you understand completely how each character comes to the conclusions that they do. The delicious trick lies in having good deeds and evil deeds moving along the same street toward the same fate. The dame, the pug and the crooked ex-cop spiral together into the dark.

For a fair part of the way through this book I did a pretty good job of convincing myself that it was a pretty good collection. But alas the truth won out as the fatigue of reading too many dusty white brit reviews that packed little or no punch diluted the power of the sharp wit that does pop up now and again throughout this work. For every delightful Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde and Dorothy Parker quote, there were several by people I've never heard of about people I've never heard of the wit of which does not survive without context. Too often I felt like I was overhearing parts of a conversation from across cigar smoke filled room where the self congratulating laughter drowns the punch line. Assume this is lazy curation where diamonds and rocks were collected without concern to which might shine.