Skip to main content

Great Books

 For a long while, the NY Times paid close attention to true crime books; these books weren't just reviewed; the books were judged and ranked, each December, so you could identify the best of the year.


Also, the Times hopped all over the fifty states and selected a crime chronicle for each state; these titles are outstanding. The Times can direct you to "Judgment Ridge," "After the Eclipse," "American Heiress"--titles you might otherwise overlook.

Recently, it has become fashionable to feel disgusted by true crime. This sort of book repackages a real person's suffering for entertainment. Also, a true crime saga often fails to "center the victim." I have a few thoughts about this. First, it seems clear to me that criminals are often "centered" because criminals are fascinating; if you exist on the margins of society, it's likely (not definite) that you may be an intriguing companion. By contrast, having suffered at the hands of another is not an automatic guarantee that you are a compelling character. (This seems like common sense.) Additionally, I think anything on Earth is fair game for a writer. I wouldn't ban "Macbeth" just because the play ostensibly has its roots in history and some of the material seems "icky."

So I was happy to pick up "Pilgrim's Wilderness." This is like my dream book. It's set in Alaska, in McCarthy, an area so remote that it attracts only insane people. (I'm exaggerating.) In the eighties, the population was approximately twelve, and one of the twelve people lost his mind and killed six neighbors. (Everyone was gathered to wait for the "mail plane." This became known as "The Mail Plane Massacre.")

For years, McCarthy was so isolated, if you wanted to reach the town, you would need to sit in an abandoned cart and pump yourself across with your arms; you would hang from a wire, and you yourself would be the "motor." If the book stopped here, I would be in heaven, but what follows is a captivating Ruby Ridge scenario. A murderer and his family move to the national park; it's illegal for them to be where they are, but the park legislation is murky enough that no one really knows just *how* illegal the homesteading actions are. While the murderer--Papa Pilgrim--escalates his battle with the federal government, he also repeatedly rapes and beats his oldest daughter. (He tells the daughter that his wife is no longer attractive, but he must continue to have children to fulfill a divine commandment. It's the daughter's task to help prepare "the seed.")

The daughter's fortitude becomes the engine of the book's second half; amazingly, this story has a "happy" ending. I read with my jaw on the floor; I could not believe that these events actually occurred in American history, and they occurred in our very recent past.

A sensational book.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

The Death of Bergoglio

  It's frustrating for me to hear Bergoglio described as "the less awful pope"--because awful is still awful. I think I get fixated on ideas of purity, which can be juvenile, but putting that aside, here are some things that Bergoglio could have done and did not. (I'm quoting from a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of the Church.) He could levy the harshest penalty, excommunication, against a dozen or more of the most egregious abuse enabling church officials. (He's done this to no enablers, or predators for that matter.) He could insist that every diocese and religious order turn over every record they have about suspected and known abusers to law enforcement. Francis could order every prelate on the planet to post on his diocesan website the names of every proven, admitted and credibly accused child molesting cleric. (Imagine how much safer children would be if police, prosecutors, parents and the public knew the identities of these potentially dangerous me...
1 comment
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more