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THE BROKEN LANDS

A NOVEL OF ARCTIC DISASTER

A masterly re-creation of an ultimately ruinous journey.

Bravery and boldness are defeated by ignorance and the elements in a fictional treatment of Sir John Franklin’s doomed search for the Northwest Passage in 1845.

To Franklin’s mostly young crew of 135, as they set out from Greenland on the ships Erebus and Terror, it must have seemed scientific and perfectly possible to make the first northern passage of the American continent. The party had with them three years’ worth of canned provisions, and they were equipped to photograph their findings. The two ships carried auxiliary steam engines, and the expedition’s leaders had both Arctic and Antarctic experience. But what a daunting schedule, by necessity, they had set for themselves. Given the brevity of polar summers and the depth of the ice pack, they set out knowing they would have to spend at least two very long winters frozen fast in the Arctic Ocean. What they did not and perhaps could not foresee after a successful first wintering was the possibility of sailing at the end of the second summer into a harbor that had opened only on a fluke, a once-in-years thawing that, after it had refrozen, kept Erebus and Terror permanently icebound and unable to continue. Compounding the misery: corrupt canned goods leading to rampant scurvy and maybe poisoning. Edric’s thoroughly capable and evenhanded treatment in this reconstruction of the unknowable moves relentlessly and fairly quickly through what must have been agonizingly long periods of inaction, concentrating wisely on the younger, lesser-known members of the team, leaving the leaders to their encyclopedia entries. Most importantly, British author Edric, whose first US appearance this is, makes clear the Victorian sanity and scientific attitude that are too often written off as victims of the mania for exploration.

A masterly re-creation of an ultimately ruinous journey.

Pub Date: Feb. 13, 2002

ISBN: 0-312-28889-1

Page Count: 384

Publisher: Dunne/St. Martin's

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2001

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THE NIGHTINGALE

Still, a respectful and absorbing page-turner.

Hannah’s new novel is an homage to the extraordinary courage and endurance of Frenchwomen during World War II.

In 1995, an elderly unnamed widow is moving into an Oregon nursing home on the urging of her controlling son, Julien, a surgeon. This trajectory is interrupted when she receives an invitation to return to France to attend a ceremony honoring passeurs: people who aided the escape of others during the war. Cut to spring, 1940: Viann has said goodbye to husband Antoine, who's off to hold the Maginot line against invading Germans. She returns to tending her small farm, Le Jardin, in the Loire Valley, teaching at the local school and coping with daughter Sophie’s adolescent rebellion. Soon, that world is upended: The Germans march into Paris and refugees flee south, overrunning Viann’s land. Her long-estranged younger sister, Isabelle, who has been kicked out of multiple convent schools, is sent to Le Jardin by Julien, their father in Paris, a drunken, decidedly unpaternal Great War veteran. As the depredations increase in the occupied zone—food rationing, systematic looting, and the billeting of a German officer, Capt. Beck, at Le Jardin—Isabelle’s outspokenness is a liability. She joins the Resistance, volunteering for dangerous duty: shepherding downed Allied airmen across the Pyrenees to Spain. Code-named the Nightingale, Isabelle will rescue many before she's captured. Meanwhile, Viann’s journey from passive to active resistance is less dramatic but no less wrenching. Hannah vividly demonstrates how the Nazis, through starvation, intimidation and barbarity both casual and calculated, demoralized the French, engineering a community collapse that enabled the deportations and deaths of more than 70,000 Jews. Hannah’s proven storytelling skills are ideally suited to depicting such cataclysmic events, but her tendency to sentimentalize undermines the gravitas of this tale.

Still, a respectful and absorbing page-turner.

Pub Date: Feb. 3, 2015

ISBN: 978-0-312-57722-3

Page Count: 448

Publisher: St. Martin's

Review Posted Online: Nov. 19, 2014

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2014

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TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD

A first novel, this is also a first person account of Scout's (Jean Louise) recall of the years that led to the ending of a mystery, the breaking of her brother Jem's elbow, the death of her father's enemy — and the close of childhood years. A widower, Atticus raises his children with legal dispassion and paternal intelligence, and is ably abetted by Calpurnia, the colored cook, while the Alabama town of Maycomb, in the 1930's, remains aloof to their divergence from its tribal patterns. Scout and Jem, with their summer-time companion, Dill, find their paths free from interference — but not from dangers; their curiosity about the imprisoned Boo, whose miserable past is incorporated in their play, results in a tentative friendliness; their fears of Atticus' lack of distinction is dissipated when he shoots a mad dog; his defense of a Negro accused of raping a white girl, Mayella Ewell, is followed with avid interest and turns the rabble whites against him. Scout is the means of averting an attack on Atticus but when he loses the case it is Boo who saves Jem and Scout by killing Mayella's father when he attempts to murder them. The shadows of a beginning for black-white understanding, the persistent fight that Scout carries on against school, Jem's emergence into adulthood, Calpurnia's quiet power, and all the incidents touching on the children's "growing outward" have an attractive starchiness that keeps this southern picture pert and provocative. There is much advance interest in this book; it has been selected by the Literary Guild and Reader's Digest; it should win many friends.

Pub Date: July 11, 1960

ISBN: 0060935464

Page Count: 323

Publisher: Lippincott

Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1960

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