Race Rebels, by Robin D. G. Kelley

Have you ever, when reading something, seen a reference to another book that makes you want to read it?  Then when you get around to reading it, you realize that, with the first reference, you learned everything you wanted to know about the book?  That was my experience with this book.  I don't even remember where I read a reference to Robin D.G. Kelley's Race Rebels: Culture, Politics, and the Black Working Class, but I know my life would not be less rich had I not read it. 

This is not to say it's a bad book.  It's a book that serves a function, fills a niche.  Kelley writes as an academic (professor of history and Africana studies at NYU at the time of publication, now professor of American studies and ethnicity and history at USC), so the book is heavy on documentation and light on readability.  (For 227 pages of text, there are 65 pages of end notes, a 37 page bibliography, and a 15 page index.  But who's counting.)  With that tone and purpose in mind, the reader can still glean an interesting take on civil rights and black history in the U.S.

In a relatively small space, Kelley covers a lot of ground.  I enjoyed his recounting of, in a sense, the underbelly of the civil rights movement.  We all know about Martin Luther King, the march on Washington, and the high-profile civil rights leaders.  Kelley reveals the under-the-radar civil rights movement.  Many workers, whether domestics, dock workers, field workers, etc., performed their own small acts of workplace rebellion, including industrial sabotage, workplace theft, and simple loafing.  By doing so, they claimed ownership of their own time and persons, rejecting the role of slave.

I particularly liked the description of domestic workers taking, with the implied consent of their employers, food ("pan-toting"), clothing and utensils for their own use.  One worker said, "We don't steal; we just 'take' things--they are part of the oral contract, exprest [sic] or implied.  We understand it, and most of the white folks understand it."  I was reminded of the biblical practice of gleaning, which required farmers to leave the corners of the field unharvested, or leave some grapes or olives ungathered, so that the poor can gather some for their own use.

Another favorite part was the description of the ongoing, decentralized bus protests, specifically in Birmingham.  Give Rosa Parks her due, of course, but she was by no means the first, and certainly not the only one to thwart the bus segregation policy.  Many did, on a daily basis.  Particularly troubling was the treatment of black servicemen, who fought against racist policies overseas, only to come home and be told to move to the back of the bus.

Later on, as the civil rights movement became tied to the Communist Party, I began to lose a sense of solidarity.  I can appreciate the point, that many African Americans do not share a commitment to American values, given the way they have been treated historically and in the present day, but it seems like African Americans should look at the alternatives: Communism, which oppresses all people as a matter of course, or American democracy, which has unfairly oppressed a minority but has taken great strides towards true equality.  I have little patience for those who side with Communism, black or white.

I also did not enjoy Kelley's laudatory analysis of "gansta rap."  I understand, as best a white man can, that blacks suffer from unfair treatment, and that there are discriminatory practices in law enforcement (see my review of Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow), and that places like South Central L.A. have become occupied territories under police rule.  But gangsta rap, when it celebrates cop killers, lauds illegal activity, and then demeans women, should be condemned, not praised, even if it is a heart-felt expression of the experiences of poor, inner-city blacks.

As a country, we are a long way from being free of contentious race discussions in our public discourse.  Race Rebels reminds us that, even though church leaders and middle class and wealthy blacks may dominate discussions of race, the working class and poor blacks in our nation are the ones who really move the culture toward racial equality.

Out of My Mind, by Sharon Draper

A few weeks ago, Kelly wasn't feeling well so I took off work to fill in for her at the kids' Valentine's Day parties at school.  First I went to Chloe's second grade class.  Chloe is non-verbal and has some physical limitations and development delays due to an unidentified genetic disorder.  Prior to this year, she has been in special ed classes, with part of her day spent in regular ed classes.  Now she is in a regular ed class all day with a full-time assistant and is the only child in her class with special needs. 

As I sat and watched her interact with the other kids at her table, the other kids' interactions with her impressed me.  Without fail, they were sweet, helpful, friendly, and even conversational.  Chloe will nod in response, but does not speak, and does not make a lot of eye contact.  Yet these kids spoke and interacted with her as if nothing was different about her.  One of the little girls asked me if I was Chloe's daddy.  I told her I was.  She said, "Chloe and I are best friends!"  I'm telling you I almost lost it there; I had to exercise lots of self-restraint not to cry in front of her.  I loved seeing Chloe, who is content to play alone in her room for hours on end, in this setting, with such great support from her peers.

Then I went to help set up for Elliot's 6th grade party and was intercepted by one of his teachers.  Almost breathlessly, she said, "I read a book you have to read.  It's called Out of My Mind, and I thought of Chloe the whole time I was reading it!"  She had told Elliot the same thing, so he read it and told Kelly about it so she read it, and since they liked it so much, I picked it up yesterday.  I hardly put it down and finished it in a day.

Not only did I think of Chloe as I read, but I thought of Kelly, me, and Chloe's teachers and assistants.  In Out of My Mind, Melody, the 11-year-old protagonist, has cerebral palsy.  Though confined to a wheelchair and unable to speak, her mind is active, brilliant, and and capable of remembering anything she reads, sees, or hears.  Much of her school years have been spent in boring, humiliating special ed classes.  When she can read thousands of words, of course she gets upset when the teacher is teaching the alphabet.  Finally, through her own initiative and the persistence of her assistant and her family, she gets an assistive communication device, giving her a voice for the first time in her life.  Finally she can communicate verbally and participate more in school, even helping the school's quiz team qualify for the national finals.

Throughout the story, my heart broke for this precious girl, bringing me to tears on several occasions.  How frustrating not to be able to makes oneself understood.  How isolating not to be able to interact with people around you.  I, of course, kept thinking of Chloe, my smart little girl who has such a hard time communicating.  I don't know that she has a photographic memory like Melody, but I know she's always been smarter than we know.  What's going on in her mind that we can't see or hear?  How many inane, boring lessons has she sat through, thinking "I know all this!  Stop with the baby lessons!"  And when Chloe watches the other kids run and talk and laugh and play, does she long, like Melody, to be a part?  Does Chloe get embarrassed by her difficulty in feeding herself, that she wears diapers at age 9, that she rides the handicapped bus?

I thought of Kelly as much as I thought of Chloe.  Melody is a lucky girl in that her mom never gives up believing in her.  She has to come to bat for Melody time and again, sometimes in a militant way.  In the same way, Kelly has been Chloe's biggest advocate, her momma bear instincts pushing and pushing to make sure Chloe gets services she needs and is in the best placement for her growth.  And the link between Melody and her mom could just as well describe Chloe and Kelly.  Kelly knows what Chloe's every little gesture means, and usually knows what Chloe's thinking.  She can tell by looks if Chloe feels bad, and can smell when she's thirsty.  Weird.  Melody's dad plays a smaller role, like me; he's not as clued in to his daughter as the mom, but does all he can do to help.

Draper is a long-time teacher--honored as National Teacher of the Year in 1997--and the parent of a child with "developmental difficulties" (her description) so it's no surprise that her classroom scenes and dispatches from the special ed classroom seem so real.  And her appreciation for the special ed assistants should be noted; I agree with Draper--those folks do wonderful work for way too little money.  I for one am so thankful for the faithful ladies who have fed Chloe, changed her diapers, and invested in her learning and development during her school years.

Out of My Mind gives the reader a believable window into the mind of a disabled individual.  But Draper's real target audience is the rest of us.  As Draper says on amazon.com, Out of My Mind is "written for people who look away, who pretend they don't see, or who don't know what to say when they encounter someone who faces life with obvious differences. Just smile and say hello!"  I may be too honest in this admission, but this book has reminded me to take more time with Chloe, to remember that even when she acts like she's in her own world she is hearing and seeing and taking it all in, and that it's up to me, Kelly, and all of Chloe's support team, to work together to help Chloe take part in her world and to overcome the challenges in her life.

Judgment Day, by Wanda L. Dyson

We all, whether we want to admit it or not, like to see the corrupt get their due.  "Why do the wicked prosper?" we ask, with Jeremiah, wondering why the righteous suffer and the just suffer.  But every now and then, we see a story in the paper or on the evening news which makes us cheer, bringing to light the deeds done in darkness by people who should know better.  Suzanne Kidwell doesn't necessarily have a great moral compass, but she knows that TV viewers like to see the sins of the high and mighty exposed for all to see.  With a taste for what sells, and some questionable tactics, she rakes in the ratings on her hit show, Judgement Day.

Kidwell thinks she's above the fray, one of those who moves in a different moral universe than the rest of us.  She tells a good story, but her shoddy investigative techniques inevitably bring more attention to her than she wants.  When her car explodes with her fiance at the wheel, was the assassination meant for her or him?  When his nurse turns up murdered in Kidwell's home, with Kidwell's fingerprints all over the bloody knife, she feels trapped.  Who would frame her for murder?  Was it a story she had done?  Was it a story she should had yet to do?  With nowhere else to turn, her lawyer brings in the best investigation team around, Kidwell's ex-fiance, Marcus Crisp, and his partner, Alexandria Fisher-Hawthorne.  Kidwell swallows her pride and relies on this man, whom she had betrayed in college, to uncover the truth.

Judgment Day is Dyson's fifth novel, and, just as Suzanne has learned to string her audience along, Dyson skillfully strings her audience along with page-turning action, plot twists, and suspenseful surprises.  As is the case with many a suspense novel, Judgment Day packs in so many twists and turns, so many random connections between events and characters, and so many improbable events, that there is an air of the unbelievable about the story.  But, forgiving the excesses of the genre, Dyson wraps a moral message around the plot.

Events toss Suzanne headlong into a forced reconsideration of her methods as a reporter.  Do the ends justify the means?  In some cases, she may have, through her unsavory investigative techniques, rightfully brought truly despicable public figures to justice.  In many cases, though, she inaccurately or downright wrongly convicted people in her personal court of justice for the sake of TV ratings, sometimes with tragic results.  Has it all been worth it?

Then, on a deeper level, the murder investigation begins to unravel the details of crimes more insidious than even she imagined.  The perpetrators insist what they are doing is right.  But can it be justified?  What if their crimes might benefit Suzanne's own mother?  Her moral reflections contrast with the faith and moral integrity of Marcus and Alex, whose faith guides their lives and their careers as investigators.  Things might not have worked out the way Suzanne would have planned, but justice wins out in the end.

I know, and I suspect Dyson knows, that Judgment Day is not a literary masterpiece.  This will not go down in history with Wuthering Heights and Of Mice and Men.  But Dyson does craft a compelling page turner, with a thoughtful moral message to boot.  Check it out.

This is the first book I have received from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group.  They sent it along for free for me to review.  Don't worry, they didn't force me to say nice things.  I enjoyed the book!

Operation Mincemeat, by Ben Macintyre

Spy novels are exciting, fun reads.  Even more exciting are tales of real-life espionage.  Most of the great spy novelists have spent at least some time as spies.  I suspect the stories they tell may not be as intriguing as the stories they can't tell.  The work of spies is similar to the work of a novelist, spinning tales, creating characters, making up believable scenarios, so the crossover between the two is not surprising.

Operation Mincemeat: How a Dead Man and a Bizarre Plan Fooled the Nazis and Assured an Allied Victory tells a remarkable story of deception, wits, and luck.  The basics of the plot may be familiar to you: the British devised a plan in which they deposited a dead body, dressed as an officer, on the coast of Spain, knowing that the Spanish were in cahoots with the Nazis.  They planted documents on the body which would misdirect the Germans concerning the upcoming invasion of Europe. 

"Bill Martin" serving his country.

Ultimately, the scheme worked.  The Nazis swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.  The Allied invasion focused on Sicily, but because of the misdirection in the fake documents, Germany focused its troop strength to the eastern and western Mediterranean.  Their ploy literally saved countless thousands of Allied troops' lives.  The invasion did meet with resistance, but much, much less than they otherwise would have.  With Germany's key forces to the east and west, uninspired Italian troops and a nominal German presence were left to defend Sicily.  The success of this invasion became a turning point in the war.

As the British agents put together the plan, they approached it like writing a novel.  Not surprisingly, a number of novelists and future novelists had their hands in the plan.  Basil Thompson, a former spy, had written several novels, one of which involved a dead body with false papers.  A certain young assistant in the Naval Intelligence Department, Ian Fleming, happened to own all of Thompson's novels, and recalled this plot device.  British expatriate and mystery novelist, Alan Hillgarth, played a key role as the naval attache in Spain.  Like writing a novel, the Operation Mincemeat team had to create a character, give him a back story, recreate his life and the events of his final days leading up to his (fictional) unfortunate drowning after his plane went down off the coast of Spain.  All of his personal effects, letters from his dad and fiancee, incidental pocket litter, all had to match up with the information in the "top secret" documents he carried.  As careful editors, they had to make sure that all parts of the story were consistent.  Then they had to figure out how to get the Germans to take the bait, without the Germans knowing the British knowing the Germans took the bait!  As MacIntyre says, the British had to fool the Germans into thinking the British were fooled.

As Macintyre, a journalist with the London Times, began his research for this book, he contacted the family of Ewen Montagu, one of the key players in Operation Mincemeat.  To Macintyre's delight, Montagu had kept a trunk full of documents related to the operation, most of which had never been seen before, and much of which was top secret.  Montagu himself had written a book about Operation Mincemeat, The Man Who Never Was, which was made into a movie and remains in print to this day, but it was limited by the British intelligence; even Montagu couldn't tell the full story.  So Macintyre's book provides details that fill out and complete the story.

Woven through Operation Mincemeat are reminders of the heroism of the Allies in WW2, as well as the luck that it took to defeat Hitler.  The more I learn about WW2, the more convinced I am that God's hand favored the Allies as they fought an enemy who personified evil.  I don't believe any conflict since has been as morally unambiguous as this one.  So give a cheer to Montagu, his colleague Charles Cholmondeley, and the countless others who worked to weave this web of deception and turn the course of the war in the Allies' favor.

The Christian Atheist, by Craig Groeschel

It doesn't take much of a stretch to say that many, if not most, American Christians live like Christian atheists.  Sure, we have Christian values (whatever that means in your particular Christian circle), we attend church, maybe even several days a week, maybe even in leadership, we listen to Christian music, we have Christian friends.  But how much of that fully acknowledges God's role in our lives?  This question has troubled me for a long time.  If I have a non-existent devotional life, if I don't consult or acknowledge God in my daily decisions, and if I otherwise live without daily interaction with him, I guess I'm counted among the Christian atheists. 

When I saw the title of Craig Groeschel's book, I knew I had to take a look.  Groeschel is founder and pastor of LifeChurch.tv, one of those church names that makes me groan on a number of levels.  Even though the church follows that multi-campus, marketing driven, seeker-friendly, ultra-hip model that makes me sick, I have to give him credit for reaching lots of people.  As the domain name in the church name suggests, they are spread over several locations in several states, linked together by technological means. 

Besides attending at one of LiveChurch.tv's real campuses, you can apparently attend as an avatar in the virtual worship center.

I have never heard Groeschel preach, but I am thinking that The Christian Atheist must reflect his teaching/preaching style.  One the plus side, he uses lots of personal stories, both from his own life and from people in his church and who he has met.  He's not one to get stories from "Sermon Illustrations Weekly"; he brings real lives of real people into his teaching.  Groeschel covers many of the ways I live as a Christian atheist: not praying, doubting his total love for me, questioning his sovereignty, trusting in my efforts and money for my needs, not sharing my faith.  In much of the content, he addresses the typical American pagan, who thinks he's a Christian but who has never made a decision to follow Christ, but much applies to people like me, who have been Christ followers, but who go through the motions of faith and church, and don't live in communication and relationship with God on a daily basis.

Ultimately I was disappointed in the book.  It showed Groeschel's engaging style, but lacked much substance.  The target audience would be the seeker, without a background in Christian teaching and theology, which probably makes sense.  I get the impression that's who he preaches to every week.  For someone who has been immersed in church life and Christian teaching, there's nothing new here, and what is here is pretty superficial.  That's not to say it's completely without value, but I will say the value is quite limited.  I guess it will take a lot more than Groeschel's book to break me out of my Christian atheism.

The Confession, by John Grisham

In The Confession, Grisham has brought together his straight-forward, page-turning suspenseful style, a la The Firm with the anti-death penalty, justice system reforming crusade of The Innocent Man.  The stalwart pro-death penalty advocate may not enjoy this book, but if you have any sympathy at all for the Innocence Project, which works to "free the staggering numbers of innocent people who remain incarcerated and to bring substantive reform to the system responsible for their unjust imprisonment," and for people who are wrongly convicted of crimes, you will appreciate the tone and message of The Confession.

The Confession is the page-turner Grisham fans have come to expect from him.  The story alone doesn't rank as one of Grisham's best, but that's like saying one of Beethoven's symphonies isn't one of his best.  The Confession is still a great story.  The premise is rather simple: Travis Boyette, a convicted rapist and all around nasty guy, reads that a Donte Drumm is about to be executed for the murder of a cheerleader from Drumm's school.  Boyette remembers her well: he stalked her, kidnapped her, raped her, and murdered her, and got away with it.  His convictions were for other crimes.  Boyette tells his story to an earnest minister, who make it his mission to stop Drumm's execution.

As is Grisham's style, the plot is straightforward, seemingly predictable, but with just enough surprises to keep the reader interested.  The case against Drumm seems ludicrously flimsy, but I'm sure Grisham was inspired by actual cases, in which an outside observer would be dumbstruck to learn that someone was convicted on such flimsy evidence.  With the omniscient author's perspective, Grisham builds a firm case for the wrongfulness of Drumm's conviction.  On those grounds, The Confession becomes an entertaining, highly readable, anti-death-penalty argument.

Maybe I'm just more aware, having read this book, but it seems like there are more and more examples of people wrongfully convicted of crimes.  One day when I was almost finished with the book, the Star-Telegram ran a front-page article about a man who has already been executed, but whose guilt has been called into question because a hair found at the scene of the crime--the sole piece of physical evidence tying him to the crime--turned out not to be his.  On the same day, one of the S-T editors wrote an editorial stating that Texas could actually save money by abolishing the death penalty, because the expense of the automatic appeals process far exceeds the expense of housing a prisoner for life.  Arguments for the deterrent quality of the death penalty fade in the face of evidence that it is, even in only in a small minority of cases, wrongfully implemented.  From the perspective of justice, as well as economics, there's a strong argument that it simply doesn't make sense to have a death penalty.

Even with the strong-handed argument overshadowing the story, The Confession delivers.  Grisham fans will enjoy it; non fans will probably enjoy it, too.  For a "message" novel, it's definitely worth a read.

The Cure, by Geeta Anand

A while back, I commented on John Crowley's memoir, Chasing Miracles, in which Crowley recounts some of his experiences seeking a cure for his kids, two of whom have Pompe syndrome.  His efforts have been truly heroic and groundbreaking, literally saving the lives of his children and improving their health by spearheading the development of drugs to treat Pompe.  Their story first came to the attention of the public through a series of articles in the Wall Street Journal by Geeta Anand. 

The Crowleys

The lengthy subtitle of Anand's book, How a Father Raised $100 Million--and Bucked the Medical Establishment--in a Quest to Save His Children, tells most of the story in a nutshell, but doesn't come close to communicating the challeges Crowley, his family, and business associates challenged along the way.  Chasing Miracles was heart-breaking as the father tells his story, but The Cure will break your heart, too.  Much of it does read like something a WSJ business journalist would write, recounting the business deals and corporate life in meticulous detail, but Anand captures Crowley's emotion and passion as well as she describes the business angle.  Besides learning about Pompe disease, the reader will gain insight into the biotech industry and Wall Street dealings.

The Cure is well-written and tells an amazing, inspring story.  Anand chronicles the events meticulously and compellingly.  But I think she fell prey to the common "stretch this article into a book" syndrome.  I appreciated her commitment to detail and skillful crafting of the story, but I couldn't help thinking that I would have been satisfied by the articles themselves.  All criticism aside (I realize this criticism only reflects my own shallowness and laziness anyway!), the bottom line is an inspiring story that will make you want to meet this terrific family and join their efforts to treat rare, formerly untreatable diseases.