Maphead’s Book Blog turns 10 years old this month. It feels like only yesterday I decided to import my old Vox blog over to WordPress after growing increasing frustrated with Vox’s technical limitations, especially its inability to filter spam. Happy with the look of my new blog and its advanced features I quickly settled in and started blogging away with reckless abandon. And as they say, all the rest is history.
Almost immediately after creating my new blog I discovered an entire world of book bloggers. I was quick to learn as far as book bloggers go I was a bit of an outlier since I’m male, at the time over 40 and reader of mostly nonfiction. But it didn’t take me long to learn there were others out there who enjoyed nonfiction. Looking back, those early days of blogging were heady ones filled with promise. It felt like ever other day I was stumbling across a new book blog. Almost every new post I created elicited multiple comments from intelligent and engaging readers from around the world.
The blogosphere felt alive with book bloggers, many of my them hosting reading challenges encouraging us to read and review books about the Middle East, Europe or Africa, or books borrowed from the public, or just any books as long as they were nonfiction. Some hosted weekly Library Loot forums allowing bloggers to showcase the books they’d recently borrowed from the public library. A talented group of them banded together to create Nonfiction November, a month long celebration of nonfiction writing which I’m happy to say I played a small part.
Looking back on my decade of book blogging my blog for the most part feels the same today as it did 10 years ago. I’m only on my third template with the basic layout remaining fairly consistent. Feeling the blog needed a slight makeover a few years ago I upgraded to the Hemingway Rewritten template and added the new header picture of a pint of beer and an old book, namely Adam W. Miller’s An Introduction to the New Testament, published in 1946. (As luck would have it, it happens to be open to the chapter on my namesake, the Gospel of Mark.) Today, just like 10 years ago the overwhelming majority of the books I read and discuss I’ve borrowed from the public library. However, over the last few years I’ve been borrowing more ebooks through Overdrive to read on my Kindle. Honestly, I was slow to embrace this technological practice but when I did I fell in love with it passionately. Lastly, most the books I’ve read and blogged about over the years have been nonfiction. But starting three or four years ago I’ve found myself reading more fiction, especially stuff with an international focus.
As for what the future holds, I have no clue. Even though I came close to retiring from book blogging on several occasions, I’m won’t be shutting down Maphead’s Book Blog anytime soon. I’ve been wanting to start some kind of podcast and if I do, you’ll read all about on my blog. Who knows, I might even launch a spin-off blog with a literary bent, filled with feuilletons, op-ed pieces and the like. I guess only time will tell.
Well, another year of Rose City Reader’s European Reading Challenge has come to a close. In my perennial quest to win the coveted “Jet Setter” award I try to read as many books as possible set in, or about different European countries, or by different European authors. With one country per book and each book by a different author, each year I find myself moving from book to book across Europe, like some post-modern armchair version of a Bella Époque grand tour of the Continent.
2018 was a down year for me since I read and reviewed just 15 books. I’m happy to report this year I rebounded nicely with a final tally of 23. Just like in past years, there’s a variety of countries represented, ranging from large counties like Russia and Germany, to smaller ones like Belgium, Iceland and even the micro-state of Vatican City. This year I even read a book about Moldova.
- Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets by Svetlana Alexievich (Russia)
- A Frozen Hell: The Russo-Finnish Winter War of 1939–1940 by William R. Trotter (Finland)
- Island on Fire: The Extraordinary Story of a Forgotten Volcano That Changed the World by Alexandra Witze and Jeff Kanipe (Iceland)
- The Fourth Figure by Pieter Aspe (Belgium)
- Pogrom: Kishinev and the Tilt of History by Steven J. Zipperstein (Moldova)
- A Journey to the Edge of Europe by Kapka Kassabova (Bulgaria)
- The Man Who Went Up in Smoke by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö’ (Hungary)
- Amsterdam: A History of the World’s Most Liberal City by Russell Shorto (The Netherlands)
- The Swede by Robert Karjel (Sweden)
- Smilla’s Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg (Denmark)
- The Prince’s Boy by Paul Bailey (Romania)
- Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier (United Kingdom)
- The Abyssinian Proof by Jenny White (Turkey)
- 1924: The Year That Made Hitler by Peter Ross Range (Germany)
- The Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and the Real Count of Monte Cristo by Tom Reiss (France)
- Hell and Good Company: The Spanish Civil War and the World it Made by Richard Rhodes (Spain)
- The Volunteer: One Man’s Mission to Lead an Underground Army Inside Auschwitz and Stop the Holocaust by Jack Fairweather (Poland)
- Angels and Demons by Dan Brown (Vatican City)
- The Italians by John Hooper (Italy)
- The Exiles Return by Elisabeth de Waal (Austria)
- A Child of Christian Blood: Murder and Conspiracy in Tsarist Russia: The Beilis Blood Libel by Edmund Levin (Ukraine)
- Prague Fatale by Philip Kerr (Czech Republic)
- North of Ithaka: A Granddaughter Returns to Greece and Discovers Her Roots by Eleni N. Gage (Greece)
As you might guess, I’m a huge fan of this challenge. I encourage all you book bloggers to sign up and read your way across Europe. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.
It took me a long time to read Svetlana Alexievich’s Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets. The only thing that took longer was posting a review. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the book. Not only did it easily made my year-end Favorite Nonfiction list but I also declared it my favorite work of nonfiction read in 2019. But why did things take so long?
Let’s start with why it took so long for me to read it. Strangely enough, it’s not a long book. The Kindle edition I borrowed form Overdrive is a shade under 450 pages. While not short, it’s not exactly a tome either. But Secondhand Time is a book of substance and you don’t read books of substance. You savor them. One cannot fully understand today’s Russia without an in-depth exploration of the Soviet state that preceded it, how it collapsed and the fractured world left in its wake. Alexievich does this by masterfully weaving together a tapestry of oral histories drawn from a deep well of post-war Russian history. From Stalin’s reign of terror to the hopeful early years of Gorbachev’s Presidency and the chaos and uncertainty that followed it, a diverse spectrum of voices chime in Russia’s past and present. Many lament the passing of a once mighty superpower that commanded the world’s attention and for the most part kept its citizens fed, housed and employed even though civil liberties were scarce. Yes, under the Communists the shelves were bare but what good is it to have stores full of quality groceries and merchandise if you’re too broke to buy any of it, complain others. In the past party apparatchiks ran the country and enjoyed special privileges while today mobsters and billionaire kleptocrats live like potentates.
Great books always intimidate me, which is why it took me so long to post my impressions of Secondhand Time. Not only did this book make every notable best book of the year list on the planet, but its author Svetlana Alexievich won the Nobel Prize for literature! The authors of two of favorite book blogs, Howling Frog Books and What’s Nonfiction both raved about Secondhand Time and rightfully so. There’s probably nothing I could say about this book that hasn’t already said more intelligently and beautifully by someone else. So just go read it and you’ll know what I’m talking about.
I suspect even the most knowledgeable World War II buff has a hard time remembering the USSR and Finland fought a brief war during the winter of 1939-1940. After months of political tension war finally came to Europe as the armies of Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland, crushing all organized resistance within a few weeks. Coming to the aid of their ally Poland, Britain and France declared war on Germany with Germany responding in kind. However, until spring of the following year neither side attacked each other, since both sides were fearful of the other’s defensive capabilities.
During the lull in hostilities Stalin looked ahead to a time when Germany, after defeating Britain and France, would set its sights on the Soviet Union. The USSR needed to secure its northwestern frontier. If Finland was occupied by the Nazis, or at least fell under their sway, Lenningrad, the USSR’s second largest city would be a short skip and a jump away. After the Finnish government rejected Stalin’s demands of Finnish border territory the USSR attacked, expecting to crush Finland quickly. But the Finns fought back. And hard.
William R. Trotter ‘s 1991 book A Frozen Hell: The Russo-Finnish Winter War of 1939–1940 tells the story of this brief but bloody conflict. According to Trotter, if there was ever a David versus Goliath battle between two modern countries this was it. On one side was Finland, a small Nordic nation of only 4 million with limited resources and an army void of tanks.Pitted against it was the mighty USSR, a Eurasian behemoth with comparatively unlimited human, industrial and military resources including state of the art artillery, aircraft and tanks. Finland’s only hope was to keep the Soviets at bay for as long as possible until military assistance could arrive from friendly nations like France, Great Britain or Sweden.
Fortunately, the Finns had a few things working in their favor. One, they were blessed with outstanding military leadership, specifically they had General Mannerheim running the show. Mannerheim and his subordinates knew if they had any chance to halt the Red Army they needed to use their meager resources as wisely as possible. Therefore, whenever possible they attacked the advancing Soviet units fast and hard, frequently on skis with machine guns blazing. Poorly led, poorly equipped, unfamiliar with the local terrain and unprepared for the harsh Finish winter, the Red Army conscripts suffered horrific losses. Before long what was promised as a quick Soviet victory turned into a hopeless bloodbath. But how long could Finland hold out against such a mighty adversary?
I’m glad Trotter wrote A Frozen Hell. Stories like this need to be told and told in detail. They should not be relegated to mere historical footnotes.
I remember years ago as a little kid watching TV images of a violent volcanic eruption in some strange faraway place with the exotic name of Iceland. As a young child it was hard to not be mesmerized as I watched an entire village get smothered in black volcanic ash and lava. Those televised images, as well the vivid photographs I saw in a subsequent issue of National Geographic must a made a lasting impression on me because I’ve always associated the Nordic island nation of Iceland with volcanoes. Needing something about Iceland for Rose City Reader’s European Reading Challenge maybe that’s why I borrowed through Overdrive a copy of Island on Fire: The Extraordinary Story of a Forgotten Volcano That Changed the World. After all , who can resist a book about volcanos? I know I can’t.
One day in 1783 Iceland’s largest volcano Laki erupted with a vengeance and for eight months nonstop unleashed an unstoppable river of molten lava and towering plume of ash. So much volcanic material was shot into the upper atmosphere weather patterns in Europe, North America and as far away a Egypt were drastically impacted as temperatures plummeted, crops failed and livestock suffered and died. Countless people, especially across Europe were plagued by respiratory ailments caused by Laki’s eruption with many succumbing to it’s harmful effects. All this from a volcano on a small island in the remote North Atlantic.
Island on Fire isn’t just a book about Laki but volcanoes in general, especially those that erupt with such magnitude they change the course of human history by causing massive global climate change. (Scientists suspect based on the evidence one of these eruptions happened in Indonesia around 1256.) Even smaller eruptions like Eyjafjallajökull, another Icelandic volcano that erupted in 2010 grounded air flights all over Europe. Should another super-volcano blow its top, the damage to our supply chain-driven global economy would be catastrophic. Just another thing to keep us up late at night worrying.
I’ve read just two novels set in Belgium. There’s Tracy Chevalier’s The Lady and the Unicorn, set in both Brussels and Paris in the late 15th century and the other being Jonathan Coe’s Expo 58, also set in Brussels but during the 1958 World’s Fair. My search on Overdrive for something set in Belgium I could apply towards Rose City Reader’s European Reading Challenge brought me to Pieter Aspe’s crime novel The Fourth Figure. Having good luck of late with this genre, and seeing it was nominated for the impressive-sounding Hercule Poirot Award, I decided to download a borrowable copy to my Kindle. I took a liking to The Fourth Figure after only a few pages, and like many an entertaining novel found it damn near impossible to put down. And since it’s book four of a series, all staring Bruges police Commissioner Pieter Van In, hopefully in the near future you’ll see the other three novels discussed on my blog.
When a young woman’s body is discovered in a canal outside her apartment Commissioner Van In and his partner Guido first assume it’s a suicide. But after learning she was murdered and had ties to a local satanic cult the two detectives are forced to turn Bruges upside down in search of answers. Just to make things even more complicated, Van In is forced by his superior to let a stunningly attractive journalist tag along, which in turn makes his District Attorney pregnant wife jealous.
The Fourth Figure has all the things you’d want in a European crime novel: picturesque setting, powerful individuals with dark secrets, interagency rivalries and turf wars, plot twists and a world-weary but yet unbroken talented lead investigator. Expertly translated from Flemish, The Fourth Figure reads wonderfully. Like I said at the start, you’ll be seeing more from this series on my blog.
It’s great Rose City Reader’s European Reading Challenge gets me reading books about the smaller countries of Europe like Monaco, Lithuania and Luxembourg. Keeping with this spirit of adventure last week I went looking on Overdrive for something interesting and what did I find but a book about Moldova. For those of you who don’t know, Moldova is a small country in Eastern Europe lodged between Romania and Ukraine. Once called Bessarabia it spent most of the 20th century being tossed back and forth between Romania and Russia/USSR until finally achieving independence from the Soviet Union in the early 90s. It’s one of those out of the way places you pretty much never hear about unless something terribly horrible happens there like a major natural disaster or bloody armed conflict.
Over a hundred years ago something horrible did happen in what’s now called Moldova. Steven J. Zipperstein’s Pogrom: Kishinev and the Tilt of History tells the story of the fury that erupted in its capital Kishinev it’s lasting legacy. Just before Easter in 1903 a rabid mob, inflamed by false reports a young child had been ritually murdered by local Jewish elders descended upon Kishinev’s Jewish quarter. Three days later close to 50 of the town’s Jews would be dead, hundred beaten, countless women and girls raped and scores of Jewish homes and business looted.
Anti Jewish riots or pogroms like these had been happening in Imperial Russia for years but this one was different. Unlike previous massacres of this type quickly spread around the world, generating a ripple effect of outrage and activism. Instead of occurring deep inside Russia, Kishinev was on its extreme Western edge and in theory anyway closer to the power centers of Europe. Perhaps more importantly, by the turn of the 20th century the world was experiencing an initial wave of modern globalization. With a sophisticated network of telegraph lines and undersea cables criss-crossing the planet, countless newspapers with the resources to dispatch correspondents via steamship and locomotive to the farthest reaches of the globe the world had become a much smaller place and news, wherever it happened traveled quickly. In addition, after decades of both Russian anti-semitism and advances in steamship technology America was home to a sizable Jewish population. Upon hearing the news of the pogrom Jews in America were outraged and quickly organized to not only aid the victims but also pressure the Russian government to safeguard the lives of their co-religionists. Elsewhere around the world Zionist leaders upon hearing the news from Kishinev lobbied even stronger for a new Jewish homeland.
Pogrom is a well-researched and meaty. I must commend Zipperstein for covering a lot of ground in a relatively short book. I’d consider it a great follow-up read to just about all the Jewish history books I’ve read over the last decade or so. And hey, it’s about Moldova so how could I go wrong?