No, No, No – Ceremony of the Innocent by Taylor Caldwell

Every day I receive a list of bargain e-books from Book Bub. Most are low-priced, and occasionally there's even a freebie. If I find a free book of interest available on Prime, I add it to my Kindle/iPad. I also get others from Edelweiss and other sources. Between those, and the ones on my shelves and in several full shopping bags, I don't think I'll ever have the time to read them all – especially since I keep finding new and enticing titles at the library. It's a dilemma that my book loving friends will understand.

Ceremony of the Innocent (the correct title) was one of those Book Bub books, and I read a little of it on its Prime page, and initially intrigued, I requested it from my library. I was somewhat shocked when I received it but I wanted to give it a chance: The cover art and copy of this mass market paperback version is lurid and repulsive, but so indicative of the 70s, when it was first published. Refusing to be put off, I decided to delve further into it. 

I was drawn at first into the sad story of the impoverished young Ellen Porter and her Aunt May, who raised her. The time is roughly the 1890s, and they live in a small Pennsylvania town, somewhere in the northeastern area of the state. Ellen is a tall, beautiful redheaded girl who looks older and more mature than her thirteen years; May is a seamstress who also works as a maid to try to make ends meet, she is probably barely forty but poverty has aged and broken her. Seeing no alternative, she forces Ellen to end her education and persuades her client and employer, the mayor's wife, to take Ellen on as a maid in training, saying she is already fourteen, though with her height and mature looks, Ellen might pass for fifteen or sixteen. 

The small town constantly gossips about Ellen and May. Some say she is May's illegitimate daughter, that with her flaming hair and mature body, she must be sexually active – a harlot. Of course she is none of that, and is rather just a poor disadvantaged girl who looks different from the pale blondes who are considered the town beauties. There seems to be no future for her other than a life of struggle and servitude.

One day, though, she meets Jeremy, the handsome, well-educated and successful son of her employers. She is overwhelmed, as is he. Their brief encounter will stay with both of them until they meet again, and he sweeps her off and marries her.

From this point forward, the book becomes a strange stew of their continued love story, politics, religion, and commentary on the America of the early decades of the twentieth century. I found the policies she eventually ascribed to Jeremy, who had been elected to Congress, and who had originally seemed so kind and passionate, to be distasteful and hateful, to say the least. She portrayed many of the leading progressive political figures of the time with a peculiar, distorted view, bordering on what felt like an underlying paranoia, or at the very least, a deep hate for working and middle class Americans, immigrants, and others. At the same time, she seemed to warn against excesses of greed, power and capitalism, while supporting both communism and fascism almost simultaneously.

All in all, in retrospect, the entire novel becomes as lurid and offensive as this edition's cover. Her prose is dense, melodramatic, and wandering, but I kept reading in the hope that somehow Ellen would overcome her struggles – let's just say she didn't. I can only wonder how this book became the "national bestseller" touted on the cover.

Now, Before It's Too Late – Democracy Awakening by Heather Cox Richardson

Historian Heather Cox Richardson's newest book is a very accessible and concise look at the current state of democracy in the United States of America. She also explains, in a well-organized chronology, the history of events, from the Colonial Era forward, that brought us to our present to this point in time.

This book could be seen as an overview of what Dr. Richardson writes in her Substack newsletter, which, on a nearly daily basis, examines in detail current affairs and politics that are the most pressing issues and events of our time. If you don't read it, you should – it is that important.

This book was a great refresher course in American history, and particularly addresses the more recent decades, particularly the years since the 1980s, that have so drastically changed the course of the America, that I, as a Baby Boomer, grew up in from the mid-1950s to the mid-1970s. With great clarity, she takes apart the events and policies that led to the negativity and factionalism that we are currently experiencing. 

While she is not without hope for America's future, she makes it clear that our democracy is not a sure thing, or something we can take for granted, and that our fate is in our hands.

Paris at War – The Mistress of the Ritz by Melanie Benjamin

I listened to roughly three quarters of the audiobook production before having to switch to the hardcover version due to library due dates, but any audiobook performed by the exceptional Barbara Rosenblat ranks high on my list. Her distinctive, expressive voice adds so much to my enjoyment of any book. Brava, Barbara!

The Mistress of the Ritz is a lightly fictionalized account of the lives of Blanche and Claude Auzello. Blanche Ross, as she presented herself, was a young American actress who arrived at the exclusive Ritz Hotel in Paris, in the early 1920s, accompanying her friend Pearl White, the far more famous silent screen actress who starred in the successful serial "The Perils of Pauline". On her very first evening there Blanche met Claude Auzello, the assistant manager, and a decorated hero of the First World War. They fell passionately in love and quickly married, though their personal characteristics and cultural differences led them to quarrel incessantly from the start.

Despite that, Blanche and Claude stayed together, with Claude providing impeccable service to the hotel's illustrious guests, including Ernest Hemingway, Scott Fitzgerald, Coco Chanel, and many others. Blanche's dynamic, friendly personality, and her beauty contributed to the hotel's ambiance and Claude's success. 

When World War II broke out and the Nazis occupied Paris, they moved into the Ritz along with seizing and terrorizing the rest of the city. Claude pleaded with Blanche to return to America but she refused to leave him. They were under the constant scrutiny of the German invaders but Claude, by now the manager, ran the hotel at the same standards as ever, despite the circumstances, satisfying the occupiers' every whim.

Blanche and Claude engage in certain other activities but their combative relationship causes them to distrust one another. Blanche forms a close friendship with Lily, a mysterious woman surrounded by rumors, and Claude, whose past affair caused much of the tension between him and Blanche, appears to be indulging in additional extra-marital liaisons. Eventually it will all come clear.

The Ritz itself feels like a character in the book – the author describes its history, appearance, and role in the life of the city of Paris so thoroughly – that when you are done listening, or reading, you too feel as though you have experienced it.

The other aspects of description of Blanche's and Claude's appearances, their personalities, and their experiences truly bring them to life, and the dialogue between them and their inner thoughts are entirely believable.

Long after the war ends, Lily provides an epilogue to Blanche and Claude's story, a very unexpected coda. I recommend not researching the real life Blanche and Claude until completing your read, but do be sure to read the author's note which follows.

Not So Tasty – National Dish: Around the World in Search of Food, History, and the Meaning of Home by Anya von Bremzen

A big disappointment after my high expectations for this book, which just proves that reviews can be misleading, though I saw several on Goodreads that concur with my opinion. 

I found the first two sections rambling and repetitive, and in retrospect, I should have stopped reading after the Naples chapter, which was actually about pizza and pasta, not just one dish, but I foolishly soldiered on. The Tokyo chapter also covered two dishes, rice and ramen. I somehow made it through the tapas of Seville, though if I ever see the word jamón again, I will stamp my feet in an angry flamenco. The Oaxaca chapter then literally put me to sleep, which is especially shocking, as the ten days or so I spent in Oaxaca were some of the most memorable of my travels. That was the end of this book for me. 

In retrospect, I don't think that the premise for the book is sound. Many countries, even very small ones, have regional cuisines or cities that are known for a particular food, so to define an entire country by one dish seems both superficial and absurd – consider Belgium, as an example, where waterzooi is the signature stew of the Flemish areas, Ghent specifically. Even during my visit all the way back in the late 1980s, I knew enough to have sought it out when I stayed in Ghent – and not only was it delicious, but try as I have to replicate it, no recipe has ever brought me close to a reminder of that taste or experience in that particular place. 

Even the author herself expresses that the food culture of Naples and whole of the south of Italy is completely different from that of the north of the country. I can attest to the truth of that at least, based on my own observations during multiple trips throughout Italy. In the Naples chapter, she presents some of the history of the Risorgimento (unification), and of the origin of Pizza Margherita (named after Queen Margherita, the wife of King Umberto I, the first ruler of the unified Italian kingdom), but that is widespread knowledge to most foodies and travelers to Italy who would be the likely readers of this book. 

So, sorry, if you are a lover of food writing and food travel, perhaps look elsewhere for your inspiration enjoyment.

Art in the City – The Slip: The New York City Street That Changed American Art Forever by Prudence Peiffer

Dense and packed with detail, The Slip: The New York City Street That Changed American Art Forever presents a view of American art as created and practiced by a group of emerging artists of the late 1950s and early 1960s, including Ellsworth Kelly, Robert Indiana, Jack Youngerman and others, who had (eventually) a strong impact on modern art. These artists, several of whom served in World War II and studied in Paris courtesy of the G.I. Bill, found their way to Coenties Slip, a small street off the East River in Lower Manhattan, where they settled and worked in the deteriorating loft and other nineteenth century buildings that were once central to the shipping trade that was once so important to the city's commerce. 

By the time they arrived, the docks around South and Water Streets and vicinity were collapsing into the river, and the area was largely deserted and/or ignored – though a decade or so later would be transformed by large scale development. 

It was an isolated part of the city that seemed frozen in time, but the seeds of change were already in place, even as the artists moved in, and their sojourn was fairly short-lived, as the buildings were already being condemned. It was an area of potential that had been identified by the powerful Robert Moses, who built and also destroyed so much of New York's and Long Island's roads and "parkways", and in fact, many of the most interesting sections of the book discuss his enterprises in his multiple city government roles and his clashes with the preservationist Jane Jacobs, who fortunately stepped in to shed light on Moses's many excesses.

While I was interested in the background and work of the artists, there was far too much attention given to their personal lives and living arrangements, the presentation of which I found to be dull and somewhat repetitive, and after the introductory chapters that presented them, while I dutifully read on, I was hoping to learn more than I did about the art, and perhaps to see more photos of their work. What photos that were included are black and white, many casual portraits of the artists, individually and in groups, and it seems as though it would have been possible and more impactful to have included color images of the works, many of which could have been photographed in museums, galleries, and private collections.

Crime Solvers – The Word Is Murder by Anthony Horowitz

It is interesting how discussing a book with a book club group can change your opinion of it. I was very enthusiastic about The Word Is Murder when I began reading it, though I had misgivings about the portrayal of one of the major characters, Hawthorne, the crime-solving detective, as a homophobe. For me, that's a major flaw in a character's (a person's) personality. The more we discussed it, and the more I considered it, the more it disturbed and offended me, and I don't understand why the author gave Hawthorne that characteristic, since he doesn't seem to take it anywhere. Hence, I downgraded my opinion from "4 Stars" to "3 Stars" on my Goodreads page.

The author, Anthony Horowitz, is himself the other main character and narrator, who relates the story of the crimes involved from his perspective. This is an unusual technique, but I found it clever, and amusing. Not all of the book clubbers agreed, but I'll keep my opinion intact.

The plotting is excellent, and Horowitz keeps the reader guessing almost until the very end. I may or may not read the next book in this series, if only to find out more about the mystery of Hawthorne's homophobia, and if Horowitz manages to change his mind. The Word Is Murder is the fourth of these novels.

Horowitz, a British author, was previously unknown to me, but it turns out that he has had a prolific and successful career in children's and young adult fiction, as well as adult fiction. He is also well known as the television writer of "Foyle's War" (which has run on Netflix) and "Midsomer Murders" which has run on PBS, though I have never watched it. It might be work a look...