Getting close to the end of things where this list is concerned. From a plague perspective November was probably the worst month: Covid-19 cases and deaths shot up, and we were tightly locked down, with (at the time) no hint of when things might improve. And at that we in Canada were much better off than many people. Second-smallest total of books read in a month this year, for what that's worth. As usual, asterisks (*) identify re-read titles.
*V for Vendetta by Alan Moore & David Lloyd. O the joys of Anarchy. This might be heresy, but I think I prefer the movie… (1 November)
Biggles of the Camel Squadron by Capt. W.E. Johns. Was a huge Biggles fan in junior high school. I’m not anymore. WE Johns compares rather poorly with John Harris… granted he wrote in a different period: This book is from 1934, republished in 1968. (1 November)
Nieuport 11/16 Bébé vs Fokker Eindecker by Jon Guttman. Because of the aviation fiction I’ve been reading, I guess. Dry but informative. And only 80 pages. (4 November)
Reckless Fellows: The Gentlemen of the Royal Flying Corps by Edward Bujak. I had hoped for new info about training, and perhaps a social history of the RFC in the UK. I was disappointed. The factual errors didn’t help. And if I never again see the phrase “Edwardian fox-hunting aristocrats” in connection with the RFC, it will be too soon. (5 November)
The Royal Flying Corps in France: From Mons to the Somme by Ralph Barker. Much better written than Reckless Fellows, and while it didn’t tell me much new, it was still a good read. (7 November)
Into the Valley: Marines at Guadalcanal by John Hersey. He was really good at this sort of writing. Very little happens in this tale of men running away from battle. But it’s a tremendous tale anyway, and well told. (8 November)
A Single Pebble by John Hersey. Novel set in early 1920s China. Not very interesting, I’m afraid: it reads like journalism, and the POV character’s a doofus. Good background material, though. (10 November)
Over the Wine-Dark Sea by H.N. Turteltaub (aka Harry Turtledove). Another example of fine background and world-building, without much juice to it. Two protagonists, neither of whom seems to be affected at all by his experiences. (12 November)
The Interceptors by John Harris. Penultimate Falconer novel, set in civil-war Russia, 1919. A most depressing subject, and this provides less flyboy action and more of a catalogue of misery. (13 November)
The Great War: A Photographic Narrative by the Imperial War Museums. Immense collection of photos, mostly of the western front but touching on most aspects of the war. Text is no great shakes, but it wasn’t the text I was interested in. (14 November)
The Revolutionaries by John Harris. A Mexican revolution? Sure, why not? Easily the most juvenile of the five books, and rather a silly way to end the series. (15 November)
The War Lover by John Hersey. Much more engaging than Pebble. Much longer, too, but in this case it’s a good thing. Interesting structure, though the final revelations about Marrow’s character seem a bit over the top. (16 November)
What’s So Funny? by Donald Westlake. Another Dortmunder novel. As easy to get through as a bag of Doritos. He has a knack for making elaborate coincidences seem quite natural. (18 November)
The Great War and the Shaping of the 20th Century by Jay Winter & Blaine Baggett. Companion book to a BBC/PBS doc series. Fascinating attention to non-battle, non-soldier details. Big, too. (21 November)
Brothers Keepers by Donald E. Westlake. Non-Dortmunder comic caper. A most likeable protagonist, and catchy plot. Emotionally deeper than I’d expected. (23 November)
Horse of a Different Color by Howard Waldrop. Nobody writes like this, really. I wish I did. A bit surprised: I liked everything in this collection. (24 November)
Forever and a Death by Donald E. Westlake. Lorna thought it was a comedy; it wasn’t. To my surprise it was originally a treatment for a Bond film. Protagonist basically disappears in the middle of the book. (25 November)
Money for Nothing by Donald E. Westlake. Another standalone thriller, with a very odd plot device. And a protagonist who spends most of the book being passive and boring. Every one of the supporting characters is more interesting. Partially redeemed by a rousing finish. (26 November)
The First Blitz: Bombing London in the First World War by Ian Castle. Military history, not history―there’s a significant difference. Not for the better, I’m afraid. This was like double-entry bookkeeping for violent death. (28 November)
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