Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Camelot's little brother

When one thinks of the Kennedy's, how many of us think of Teddy? Well, maybe I'm thinking of people in MY generation as opposed to those of you currently in high school. Us old folks tend to think of JFK and Bobby -- but how much of our remembrances are centered around their assassinations rather than their leadership or their impact on legislation? In actuality, Teddy, as a longtime leader in the Senate (the longest-serving in American history) until his death this past August, had perhaps the most enduring impact on social and political policies of all the Kennedy's. Throughout his early life he had his brothers' popularity to live up to (and sometimes to overcome).

I haven't read many biographies lately -- and only picked this one up because my two Book Clubs are doing it. But I am very much enjoying it! A co-writer is not mentioned (though my skeptical self wonders about a possible staff of ghost writers), and I was impressed at the writing style - how the chapters are organized and titled, and the way he told the stories of his childhood, education, and policial life - and how he told of coming into his own. He admitted using lots of notes, letters, and other sources to remind himself of dates, speeches, and so on, and those details added a lot to the writing -- but the strength of the book comes from his personal voice, which is self-deprecating and honest. His references to his parents are unfailingly loving and admiring -- the same with his references to other family members. He gives perspectives on his colleagues which provide a behind-the-scenes look at the daily life of a legislator. I found that enlightening, and gave me an admiration for the work that they do. He readily admits without excuses some of his escapades, which led to my trust when he insisted that some things of which he has been accused (Chappaquiddick) did not happen the way the media portrayed them. (for example, he was kicked out of Harvard for a year when he allowed a friend to take his Spanish final, an impulsive mistake that he confesses and regrets.)

He knows that his family has a lot of money, and we readers can easily see how that money provides some great opportunities, as in travel and education, as well as the THINGS - homes, boats, and so on. He probably takes those things for granted to some extent, but he also clearly outlines the high standards and expectations to which he and his siblings are held. "Of those who have plenty, much is expected." While growing up, they were expected to be well-prepared for dinnertime conversations on a variety of topics (announced daily via a notecard on the hallway bulletin board) from the situation in Uganda to possible solutions to the hunger crisis. Over the years this very public family suffered tragedy again and again - of the 9 children, Joe, Jack, Bobby, Kathleen all died early; Rosemary's mental problems were increased as a result of a faulty surgery; and Teddy's oldest son had a childhood cancer which resulted in amputation of a leg. Throughout it all, Kennedy maintained his positive attitude of hope, belief in the basic goodness of people, and the conviction that if we all work hard enough for justice, society as a whole will benefit. The many photographs scattered throughout the book help to remind we readers that these larger-than-life people were real. The names we know from history were down to earth family people facing many of the same issues as the rest of us, enjoying holidays and special events with their family, laughing together -- just like us. It's easy to forget, in the stories and the pictures, just how different their situation has been. What a fun close-up of the lives of the Rich and the Famous.
Because I learned so much and enjoyed the writing style, I give this book 3 1/2 stars out of 4

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Gothic Romance and Suspense - with a twist


Kate Morton is an Australian author who has erupted onto the world scene with these wonderful stories of 20th century characters involved in mysteries involving both World Wars, secrets, social position, relationships, and the usual assortment of screwed-up family dynamics.
The Forgotten Garden opens with a little girl being found alone on a dock in Brisbane, Australia in 1907. The dockmaster takes her home until he can find out where she belongs - and he and his wife end up raising her. He finally tells her when she's was 21 that she had been adopted, and years later, after she died, her granddaughter travels to England to try to find out where the grandmother had come from. All she has to go on is a white suitcase with a book of illustrated fairy tales inside, which the little girl was carrying when she was found. There is romance, intrigue, and Dickensian settings.
The House at Riverton tells the story of a former maid in one of the fine country mansions owned and occupied by a family of "landed gentry" in Yorkshire, England. The story is told in flashback as the former maid, now in her 90's, remembers her life for a movie director making a film about the rich family, which was made famous when a prominent poet killed himself at one of their parties -- amid suggestions of a love affair with one daughter, an engagement to another . . . What this old woman remembers about what REALLY happened makes the story, but of course the truth is not revealed until the very end.
Both of these are good books to grab when you're ready to curl up under a blanket, sipping a cup of hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire. Dive in!
Both books earn 3.5 stars out of 4