Special Envoy

Recently I had an opportunity to hear Senator George J. Mitchell speak at the Tanner Humanities Center World Leaders Forum at the University of Utah. I first became aware of the senator in 1995, when the former Senate Majority Leader finished his final term in office and donated his papers to his alma mater, Bowdoin College. I matriculated at Bowdoin in the fall of ’95 and worked in the Hawthorne-Longfellow Library, where the collection was on display. I worked in Special Collections, which now bears the senator’s name. His name was next brought to my attention by U2, who publicly thanked the senator for his efforts in brokering the Good Friday peace agreement in Northern Ireland. Mitchell was later appointed a Special Envoy to the Middle East by President Obama, and it was on this topic that he was invited to speak at the forum.

The key point of his talk was that Israel must resolve a two-state solution out of self-interest. Demographics indicate that a democratic Jewish state will not be viable in the near future, making a compromise necessary. This will require flexibility and leadership on all sides, as well as U.S. involvement. From the standpoint of writing Grandpa Art, that was the key point of Senator Mitchell’s speech. I had already considered the role of a U.S. Special Envoy (Sen. Mitchell is an archetype for Grandpa Art, in fact), but I will also have to bring courageous and flexible leaders to the bargaining table.

 

Books to Spare

One of my bookshelves is called “books to spare.” It’s a shelf only in digital designation; in reality, no one shelf could contain them all. Nor should it, as the books don’t belong together. The only identifying trait they share is this lack of belonging. Unfit for other collections, these misfits have been given places in mine.

It began with Mila 18 by Leon Uris, a book rescued after it was discarded by a public library (literally dis-carded, its card pulled from the catalog). This poor broken-backed book made its way from the library’s shelves to my mother’s to mine.  It was one of the first books that took me beyond myself, so I took it with me as I moved out into the world. As a university student I worked in the Preservation department of the Marriott Library, where I was able to repair and re-bind many books, including this one.

In the years since I have accumulated some four dozen titles I can identify as books to spare. Among them are more worn hardcover Leon Uris titles, Russian lit, poetry, and art books. Some are prize-winners. There are signed books that were consigned to bargain bins. Two are in my top ten, some I may not get around to reading. I just finished Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae by Steven Pressfield, a mass market paperback I bought used. Some are remainders, others are clearance, many are library books taken out of circulation. The library held another semi-annual sale last week, and I took in The Raw Shark Texts, Atala and René, Escape From Sobibor, and Heavy Sand.

The most valuable is a 1923 edition of King Arthur and His Knights illustrated by Louis Rhead, handed down to me by my grandmother. I entrusted it to the capable hands of my friend Tomomi in Preservation, and she restored it beautifully for future generations. I have no intention of selling it or any others, but I do pick up some in order to pass them along, such as a cheap paperback copy of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom — in Russian! It’s all about matching the book with the right owner; some books need not be read – only spared – to be appreciated.

Plant the Seed

Seeds of Rebellion builds upon the first Beyonders book, A World Without Heroes. It goes well beyond comparisons to the Chronicles of Narnia: this book reminds me of Fellowship of the Ring (not The Two Towers, mind you), Star Trek (of the never-beam-down-in-a-red-shirt variety), A Wise Man’s Fear (second book in the Kingkiller Chronicle), Eragon (Brandon Mull and Christopher Paolini will be appearing together in Bozeman on Thursday), and other popular graphic novels/tv series that I’d rather not spoil. In Mull’s fertile imagination these seeds grow into a new breed of story, with unique flora, fauna, and phobia!

Agent 6

“Who is Agent 6?” is billed as the mystery at the center of this last installment of the Leo Demidov series, but the true mystery is how do you make a KGB agent both believable and likeable? The two traits would strike most as mutually exclusive in a member of a secret police force. How can a person do such despicable deeds, be it out of dedication to an ideal, a means of survival, or animal cruelty, and yet present a sympathetic character? That is what Tom Rob Smith has accomplished in this series that began with Child 44 and concludes with Agent 6. It’s a series of spy thrillers featuring a spy from the other side. He doesn’t fight for us, and yet we are in his corner. His own people cower in fear of him, but we urge him on in his quest. This does not reveal a flaw in our character; it shows the true strength of Leo’s.

The flaw that makes a recurring appearance is the disjointed timeline, with a section that pre-dates Child 44, a section that follows after The Secret Speech, and a final section set 15 years beyond that. The spread of the timeline should encompass more than the three books in the series, rather than fitting the constraints of the final book. Each segment is of interest, from Leo and Raisa’s compulsory courtship, to the introduction of the Paul Robeson-esque socialist singer Jesse Austin, to the American agents who act to foil and as foil for Leo, to the time spent wasting away in Afghanistan. It all warrants inclusion, but in a longer and better developed series. I’m a poor judge of thrillers, but I find the characters compelling enough to say they deserve more scenes before this series comes to its inevitable conclusion.

Catch and Release

“In a way the Midgard Serpent is the central character in my story,” A.S. Byatt states in her “Thoughts on Myths” postscript to Ragnarök: The End of the Gods. That was certainly my impression. It may have something to do with reading it during the course of a weekend in which we visited the Living Planet Aquarium and were introduced to Peaches the anaconda, but Jörmungandr rose up distinctly in this retelling of Ragnarök. A serpent large enough to wrap around the Earth is too vast to comprehend, but Byatt’s chilling account of the snake’s growth in size and malevolence was so thoroughly realized she brought the serpent to the surface. That may as well be her on the cover, rather than Thor!

Mastery

Reading The Name of the Wind and The Wise Man’s Fear consecutively has set me back on my goal to read less and write more, but it has also taught me about the art of writing. In my slim adventure tale Orlando and Geoffrey there is a scene slightly similar to one in The Wise Man’s Fear. The chief difference between the two is that mine is only a passing scene, whereas for Rothfuss it is the payoff of long and arduous build up. There have been some grumblings about how long fans of The Name of the Wind had to wait for the even longer Wise Man’s Fear. I was not one of those long- suffering fans, although I now rue the wait for the conclusion of The Kingkiller Chronicle as well. I would surmise that those few individuals who voiced their displeasure are unaware that writing a thousand page book takes far more time than reading one. It can be a tedious grind to write page upon page of build up as opposed to simply skipping ahead to the exciting portions. What I see in Patrick Rothfuss is a serious dedication to storytelling. It’s a matter of craft, and he is a master of it.

While instructing Kvothe, Master Elodin provides an eloquent response to those who would press upon the author to rush ahead: “I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to teach you. Quit grabbing at my tits.” I for one would prefer to learn what Rothfuss has to teach me!

The Profession

Another war novel, albeit from an entirely different theater. The Profession is set in 2032, when strife in Iraq and neighboring nations has given rise to professional mercenaries. Highly trained and privately funded, these mercenary forces are able to respond to terrorist threats employing methods that no national military would ever approve. There is no holding back; retribution is swift and total. Terror is combated with terror. The American republic cannot condone these actions, but the American public is content to sit back and watch their enemies get a taste of their own medicine. When the mercenary commander and his coalition of backers set their sights on rivals foreign and domestic, it’s up to one of his most loyal lieutenants to draw a line in the sand.

There are a number of parallels that can be drawn between this novel and my novel-in-progress - the year 2032, the wars in Iraq, the unrest in the U.S. that foments political upheaval – which is the reason I read it. Pressfield takes an entirely different approach than I have, and it was worth seeing the issues from a former Marine’s perspective.