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Nonfiction Monday: Indians Who Lived in Texas by Betsy Warren

IMG_0323This out-of-print book by Texas author Betsy Warren gives details about the dress, food, and other customs of ten Native American groups that lived in the area we now call Texas. These tribes were the Caddo and the Wichita of Northeast Texas, the Karankawa, the Coahuiltecans, and the Atakapans of the Texas Gulf coast, the Jumanos who farmed in West Texas along the Rio Grande, the Tonkawa of Central Texas, and the hunting tribes of the West Texas plains: Kiowas, Lipan Apaches, and Comanches.

This book has been around for quite a while (first published in 1970), but the information and the treatment of the subject remain valid and respectful, other than the fact that the author uses the term “Indian” to refer to the native groups that lived in Texas. I gather that the preferred term is “Native American.”

I found two other books about native Texans while searching at Amazon and at my library’s website.

The first Texans: sixteen tribes of native peoples and how they lived by Carolyn Mitchell Burnett obviously covers more tribes of Indians. This book was published by Eakin Press in 1995.

Learn about– Texas Indians: a learning and activity book: color your own guide to the Indians that once roamed Texas, text and editorial direction by Georg Zappler. University of Texas Press, 2007. This one is the most up-to-date text that I found on the subject, but as noted, it’s a coloring book. My seventh and eighth graders might be a little insulted by being given a coloring book for informational purposes.

I think I’ll stick with Betsy Warren’s old stand-by survey of Texas Indians for my upcoming seventh/eighth grade Texas history class even if I have to buy multiple copies of the book from used book sellers. It’s a good book, 46 pages long, with pictures and maps showing the areas where each Native Texan tribe lived. Short, sweet, and informative. What more could you ask for?

Nonfiction Monday: Written in Bone by Sally M. Walker

factfirst1Written in Bone: Buried Lives of Jamestown and Colonial Maryland by Sally M. Walker. Carolrhoda Books, 2009.

As this book migrated around the house it garnered varying reactions from the urchins and other family members:

Karate Kid (12): It’s O.K. I liked the bones.

Z-baby (8): Is that a skeleton? Is it a real skeleton from a real person?

Artiste Daughter (20): That’s what I want to be, a forensic anthropologist. Can I read it when you get through with it?

Engineer Husband: That’s a great book! Where did it come from?

I found it a little difficult to concentrate on the information in the book at first, but I soon became intrigued. This book is not dumbed-down or over-simplified for the younger set. In fact, like much YA fiction, this book would be perfectly appropriate for adult reading. Anyone who wants a layman’s introduction to a particular subject should get in the habit of checking out the children’s or young adult section of the library since the authors of nonfiction for young people are careful to explain things as completely as possible while keeping it easy enough for nonprofessionals to understand and appreciate.

In Written in Bone, Ms. Walker accompanies forensic anthropologist Douglas Owsley, a scientist at the Smithsonian Institution, at his invitation, as he and colleagues from several related disciplines study the remains of some of the Jamestown settlers and of other early colonials who lived in the Chesapeake region of Maryland. The stories of eight different inhabitants of early colonial America are told in nine chapters. The information about how archeology and anthropological studies are done is detailed, comprehensive, and interesting, and I understood most of it –a great accomplishment on the part of the author since my eyes usually glaze over at the mention of the word “science.” One technique that author uses to keep the pages turning is the end of the chapter (commercial break) teaser: “Inside the tent, Doug Owsley, Kari Bruwelheide, archeological conservators, and medical personnel analyzed and sampled the remains for further scientific analysis. What they found amazed and puzzled them.” I could just picture this book as a PBS special, a really good one.

The chapter titles are sure to intrigue readers, too:

1. A Grave Mystery
2. Who Were You?
3. Out of the Grave
4. The Captain
5. The Body in the Basement
6. The Luxury of Lead
7. THe Lead-Coffin People
8. Expect the Unexpected
9. Remember Me

You want to read chapter five first, don’t you?

Ms. Walker does use some imagination and historical documentation to fill in the possible details of the lives of the people whose skeletons were excavated. Those lives include colonials that scientists believe were a teenage boy killed in Jamestown in a skirmish with the Indians, a ship’s captain, an indentured servant, a colonial official, his first wife, and his sickly baby, and an African slave girl. It’s amazing how much scientists can discover about these people and their daily lives as they use all sorts of new technologies to uncover the skeletons’ secrets. I’m really a history buff, not a science fan, but I loved the way the science made the history come alive.

Finally, I can’t leave this book without mentioning the beautiful full color photographs that accompany the text on nearly every page. The photos are large enough to see details, and the page layout isn’t too busy with too many little pictures but rather just enough photographic evidence to illuminate the written content. I wish I could reproduce one or two of the photos here, but you’ll just have to get a copy of the book and see for yourself.

How’s that for a nonfiction teaser?

BBAW: Best Nonfiction Review BLog

Voting is now open at the Book Blogger Appreciation Week Awards.

A Striped Armchair This blog is one I’ve heard of somewhere, but I don’t think I’ve ever visited. The blogger is Eva, a 20-something passionate and eclectic reader, who in addition to reviewing nonfiction also reads and writes about mysteries, historical fiction, classics, fantasy, and literary fiction, a little of everything. Here you can read about some of her favorite authors, and here’s another post about the special books in Eva’s life. Lovely blog.

Citizen Reader reads like a highly opinionated, and entertaining, look at the world through the lens of (mostly) nonfiction books. I’m going to add this book about the founding of Facebook to my TBR list to reinforce my antipathy to that “social networking site” on the strength of Citizen Reader’s review. Citizen Reader has, in addition to blogging, been working with Librarian/Author Nancy Pearl on a book called Now Read This III: A Guide to Mainstream Fiction, a fact which impresses the heck out of me. I’ll have to make time to read all of the Citizen Reader reviews, and the book, because I can never have enough suggestions of books to read. 🙂

Nonfiction Book Reviews Havilah is a part-time librarian who writes about nonfiction books exclusively. The front page of her blog is heavy on the astronomy titles, but it looks as if she just moved into this particular blog space back in April. Her old blog was NonFiction Lover, and it has a list of her Top Ten Favorite NonFiction Titles. Nice variety. Of the ten I’ve read, and enjoyed, five, and a couple more look good.

Sophisticated Dorkiness “Kim is a busy journalism master’s student at UW-Madison who blogs about books, school, and other dorky topics.” An aspiring journalist blogging about nonfiction? Sounds like a good fit. I’m going to have to take a look at this book, reviewed by Kim: Say Everything: How Blogging Began, What It’s Becoming, and Why It Matters by Scott Rosenberg.

Welcome to the Hinterlands: A Narrative Nonfiction Blog Caroline Kettlewell’s blog looks a little more newsy than the others nominated in this category. She informed me that there’s a name for those “year of” books (an annualist book) and that Elizabeth Gilbert has a sequel to Eat Pray Love in which, after her sojourn in free spirit land, she embraces Marriage. Caroline’s Hinterlands Manifesto is worth a look for its lament for the undiscovered joys of nonfiction reading—and the book recommendations, too.

I loved all five of these blogs, and I’ll be visiting all of them again because I really like nonfiction that tells a good story or introduces me to a new subculture or world that I hadn’t know about before. However, I think I’ll cast my one vote in this category for Welcome to the Hinterlands. The manifesto pushed me over the edge.

Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

I thought that Rick Warren’s Purpose-Driven Life book was a decent introduction to the Christian life. I’ve listened to Mark Driscoll on youtube, and what I heard him say was exactly what I read in the Bible. I even thought The Prayer of Jabez by Bruce Wilkinson, if read as written, had some good insights on serving God and asking for Big Things from Him. So, what I’m saying is that I tend to give Christian nonfiction writers the benefit of the doubt and not be overly critical and picky. (Fiction is another matter.) I figure we’re following the same Jesus, and if something sounds a little off or immature, maybe the author just hasn’t gotten there yet or maybe I haven’t.

So, although I know I read something, somewhere, that made me think I wouldn’t like Blue Like Jazz, that it would be some kind of New Age reinterpretation of Christianity that made Jesus unrecognizable, I actually loved it. Mr. Miller was a bit disingenuous at times, acting as if he just didn’t understand what in the world those “fundamentalists” were thinking when they didn’t like his take on this or that, but I still thought the book was a revealing and mostly honest (as honest as any of us get) look at what being a Christian is like, at least what it’s like for Mr. Miller. (The idea, however, that changing the name of what we believe in from “Christianity” to “Christian spirituality” is going to do anything except confuse the issue is also rather simplistic and disingenuous.)

A few quotations to give you a taste if you haven’t read it already:

“I grew up going to church, so I got used to hearing about God. He was like Uncle Harry or Aunt Sally except we didn’t have pictures.”

“God is not here to worship me, to mold Himself into something that will help me fulfill my level of comfort.”

“Satan, who I believe exists as much as I believe Jesus exists, wants us to believe meaningless things for meaningless reasons. Can you imagine if Christians actually believed that God was trying to rescue us from the pit of our own self-addiction? Can you imagine?”

“If the supposed new church believes in trendy music and cool Web pages, then it is not relevant to culture either. It is just another tool of Satan to get people to be passionate about nothing.”

“If loving other people is a bit of heaven then certainly isolation is a bit of hell, and to that degree, here on earth, we decide in which state we would like to live.”

“The most difficult lie I have ever contended with is this: Life is a story about me.”

That last one, especially, is profound. Think about it.

Dough: A Memoir by Mort Zachter

Dough: A Memoir by Mort Zachter. Recommended by Lisa at 5 Minutes for Books.

This book is a sort of sad memoir about two brothers who ran a bread store in New York City’s Lower East Side for most of their lives. The book is written by the brothers’ nephew, their sister’s son. Unfortunately, the brothers, Harry and Joe, while good at making money were not so good at sharing with their hard-working family members or even being honest with them about the extent of their wealth. It’s only after Uncle Joe dies and Uncle Harry becomes completely incapacitated that Mort Zachter finds out about his uncles’ hoard: both valuables and junk all mixed together in a cheap apartment where Joe and Harry lived an extremely frugal, even miserly, life for more than sixty years. And all the while they were storing up riches, not in heaven, but on earth where the money did no one any good.

Mr. Zachter tries to understand his uncles and their obsession with making money and keeping it secret. He fails, finally, to make sense of his uncles’ lives, but he does come to appreciate their quirks even while he wishes that they could have lived somewhat differently, enjoying their hard-earned wealth and even sharing it with the family. (Mr. Zachter’s mom served as an unpaid worker in her brothers’ store for many, many years and never knew how rich they were.)

It’s a bittersweet story, not terribly exciting, but thought-provoking in its examination of attitudes toward money and material things.

Reading Through Asia: Vietnam

Hitchhiking Vietnam: A Woman’s Solo Journey in an Elusive Land by Karin Muller. Globe Pequot Press, 1998.

I enjoyed reading this memoir/travelogue of an American woman who spent seven months in post-war Vietnam, traveling by bus, motorcycle, bicycle and on foot from the Mekong Delta to the northern border with China and along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. She endured hardships and discomforts that would have sent me scuttling back to Texas within the first few pages, but I never was sure why. Ms. Muller tries to explain in the book. She writes about her mother’s stories of growing up in Africa and about the sense of adventure she inherited from her somewhat peripatetic parents. However, and maybe it was just my underdeveloped sense of adventure, the Vietnam Karin Muller describes is not inviting; it’s full of greed, bribery, poverty, alcoholism, and political corruption. And that’s just among the tourist population. The Vietnamese themselves, with a few exceptions, are out to get as many American dollars as possible or in the case of the government bureaucrats and the police, determined to make travel as difficult as possible for anyone with fair skin and a camera. Muller keeps lookng for a “village” where she can live for awhile and enjoy her Rousseau-inspired vision of happy natives living simple, uncluttered lives. She does find such villages a couple of times during her odyssey, but the visit usually comes to an abrupt end when government officials or basic materialism intervene.

The book, while fascinating in its descriptions of modern Vietnam from a foreigner’s perspective, didn’t stir my sense of adventure, nor did it make me want to hop on a plane for Vietnam. But don’t go by me. Eldest Daughter told me today that I was a stick in the mud, and my idea of a wonderful trip involves London, Oxford, Cambridge, and Stratford-on-the-Avon. I think I’ll stick with the armchair travel route to Asia since I’m spoiled by basic conveniences such as flush toilets and clean drinking water and food that doesn’t contain parasites.

One thing I found interesting, and sad, is that Vietnam seems to be going the way of China with its one-child policy as exemplified in this account of a conversation that the author had with a group of Vietnamese soldiers:

“To my surprise, not one of them had more than two children in a land that valued family above all else, the larger the better. My driver reminded me of the billboards I had seen in almost every town, proclaiming the new government in favor of small families, with captions reading, ‘Have one or two children!’ Army doctrine apparently took a more active role, and soldiers were demoted one star for every child more than two.”

There were other stories that shed light on the current state of the people of Vietnam: Ms. Muller’s friend and erstwhile guide Tam tells her about his struggles to survive in post-war Vietnam as a former interpreter for the U.S. Marines during the war.

One chapter focuses on the Zao village in northern Vietnam where Ms. Muller spends a week living with a family of rice-growers. It’s somewhat idyllic, with a patriarchal extended family working together to build the family’s fortunes and find marriages for its young men and women. However, the chapter also includes a badly burned baby with no medical care other than a tube of athlete’s foot medication salvaged from the Red Cross at some time in the history of the village. Not so idyllic after all.

In the final analysis, I just couldn’t figure out why Karin Muller wanted to travel through Vietnam. She seemed to have some compassion for the people whose lives were so poverty-stricken. But harking back to a bad experience in the Peace Corps in the Philippines, Ms. Muller doesn’t think she can make a difference in the people’s lives nor that she has any right to try. She does try to rescue some endangered animals (a gibbon, baby leopards, and an eagle) destined for the medicinal markets of China, but the results of that attempt at good works are mixed. She says at the beginning of the book that she wants to understand the Vietnamese people and their ability to forgive their former enemies, the Americans. Maybe cultural understanding was enough of a goal to get her through sleepless nights in squalid surroundings, dysentery and scurvy, and countless bureaucratic tangles and arguments.

It wouldn’t be enough for me. I’m not only a stick in the mud; I’m also a wimp.

Other Vietnam books I have read or want to read:

I’ve heard that The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien is a good read about the Vietnam War and the American soldiers who fought and died in it. I have the book on my shelf, but I haven’t read it yet. I did read Phillip Caputo’s classic memoir A Rumor of War (a long time ago), and I remember it as fascinating, disturbing, but sometimes simplistic. Either of these books would probably teach the reader a lot about Americans in Vietnam, but not too much about Vietnam or the Vietnamese themselves.

For children or yong adults the following books might be helpful in understanding Vietnamese culture and interactions:

Goodbye, Vietnam by Gloria Whelan.
Cracker: The Best Dog in Vietnam by Cynthia Kadohata. Semicolon review here.
When Heaven Fell by Carolyn Marsden. Semicolon review here.
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers. Perry, a teenager from Harlem, experiences the horrors of the Vietnam War.
Paradise of the Blind by Thu Huong Duong and Nina McPherson. This book is a YA coming of age novel of post-war Vietnam, originally written in Vietnamese, banned in Vietnam, and later translated into English and published in the U.S. It sounds like a wonderful window into Vietnam written by a Vietnamese author.

For today’s round-up of reviews of titles set in Southeast Asia or written by Southeast Asian authors, check out the One Shot World Tour at Chasing Ray.

Reading Through Asia: Cambodia

First I read When Broken Glass Floats by Chanrithy Him. This harrowing and honest memoir of young girl growing up in Khmer Rouge-ruled Kampuchea was my introduction to the literature of the Cambodian Holocaust. I’ve never seen the movie that everybody seems to reference when talking about the horror that was Pol Pot’s Kampuchea because I cannot watch reenactments of actual, horrible events. I’ve also never seen Schindler’s List nor The Passion of the Christ. Reading about such events and acts is bad enough.

During the time covered in the book, Chanrithy Him suffered the loss of her father, murdered in a “re-education camp”, her mother, who died in a squalid hospital from untreated disease and malnutrition, five siblings, who died of malnutrition and disease, and other family members lost to the insane and disastrous policies of the Khmer Rouge government. The book begins with some background about Chanrithy Him’s childhood, but focuses on the details of her daily life in Cambodia/Kampuchea from April 17, 1975 when the Khmer Rouge entered Phnom Pen until her escape a few years later with what remained of her family to a refugee camp in Thailand.

“Death is a constant, and we’ve become numb to the shock of it. People die here and there, all around us, falling like flies that have been sprayed with poison.”

You can read the first chapter of When Broken Glass Floats online here.
And here is an interesting review of three memoirs of the Cambodian Killing Fields, all published in 2000: Music through the Dark, written by Bree Lefreniere and narrated by Daran Kravanh, When Broken Glass Floats by Chanrithy Him, and First They Killed My Father by Loung Ung.

Next I read When the War Was Over: Cambodia and the Khmer Rouge Revolution by Elizabeth Becker. This book was a more complete history of Cambodia before and during Pol Pot’s reign of terror. The author attempted to show how Pol Pot and cohorts came into power, what kept them in power, and what the effects of their genocidal policies were on the people of Cambodia. It’s a decent enough attempt, but Ms. Becker gets bogged down in the details and sometimes fails to explain the larger picture. Pol Pot and his friends sometimes seem like sympathetic characters even in the midst of their carrying out of horrendous acts simply because they are humans who even turn against one another at intervals.

Some of the most memorable passages in the book tell about Becker’s personal experiences in Cambodia as the guest of the Khmer Rouge regime. She was invited, along with two other journalists, in December 1978 to see what the Khmer Rouge had accomplished in a little over three years of rule in Cambodia. She, of course, saw only what the government wanted her to see, and she was unable to talk to people or see anything without the ever-present guides and translators who presented the Communist propaganda line in spite of the general appearance of grinding poverty and escalating violence and paranoia. Becker’s visit came to a climax with the midnight murder of one of her fellow journalists, Malcolm Caldwell, a sympathizer with the Khmer Rouge government, who nevertheless became a victim of its incompetence and general craziness.

Read this one for all the detailed information and for an idea of what was going on when all over the country and in foreign countries in relation to Cambodia. Read some of the memoirs and personal stories listed above to get a feel for what horror was perpetrated by the this so-called “agrarian communist utopia of Democratic Kampuchea.”

For today’s round-up of reviews of titles set in Southeast Asia or written by Southeast Asian authors, check out the One Shot World Tour at Chasing Ray.

Your Jesus Is Too Safe by Jared C. Wilson

I wonder what it says about me or about Mr. WIlson’s book that I enjoyed the footnotes, which are multitudinous and entertaining, almost as much as I did the main text of the book. In fact, I found myself turning each page, reading the footnotes first, then the text to which each footnote referred, then the two facing pages in order. Some examples:

p. 101: I keep assuming that you’re someone who speaks aloud to books. If I were you, I wouldn’t do this if you’re seated next to someone in a waiting room or on an airplane. Unless you really want to freak people out and give them a good story to tell their friends. In that case, go ahead, weirdo.

p. 126: OK, he was on a donkey, so we’ll call it “lukewarm pursuit.”

p. 193: Well, for me personally, it’s not up for debate, but I’m trying to be charitable to all my less Calvinist friends.

(Footnote to a footnote: Thanks, Jared, for your Christian charity in bearing with us wishy-washy Arminocalvinists.)

So, I liked the footnotes. What else?

A lot. I read Jared Wilson’s manifesto (n. a public declaration of policy and aims) on who Jesus is, what Jesus “policy and aims” were and are, and then I started again and read it all over. I did the re-reading thing for two or maybe three reasons:

1. There’s a lot of good stuff in here. I confess that whenever I read nonfiction, unless it tells a story, I tend to skim, to look for the good parts, mostly the story parts. But Mr. Wilson has written a book that tells the story of Jesus from twelve different perspectives or roles, and I was afraid that because of my bad reading habits, I might have missed something. I did miss stuff, and I’m glad I gave myself a second chance.

2. Jared Wilson and his fellow Thinklings were some of the first bloggers I ever read, so when I heard he was having his first book published, I wanted to read it. And I wanted to make sure I read it thoroughly. I can’t claim to be an unprejudiced reviewer; Jared and I have actually met once. We’ve exchanged emails a couple of times. And I like his writing and his focus on the person of Jesus. So I was predisposed to like his book, footnotes and all. (However, no money exchanged hands in the process of my writing this review.)

3. In the end I was captivated, not by Jared’s writing or his wit, but by the person he was writing about: Jesus. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what I had missed in my fifty plus years of doing church. I’ve been a disciple of Jesus Christ for a long time, but in reading Your Jesus Is Too Safe, I fell in love with Jesus all over again. That’s not safe, but it sure is fun and rich and Awe-ful, in the best and most archaic sense of the word.

If you think you’ve heard it all before, maybe you have. But maybe, just maybe, you should read Your Jesus Is Too Safe with an open mind and a heart prepared to reencounter the Biblical Jesus who is our Promise, our Prophet, our Forgiver, the Son of Man, our Shepherd, our Judge, our Redeemer, our King, our Sacrifice, our Provision, our Lord, and our Saviour.

“Brace yourself. Turning over tables is a messy business.”

This review is a part of Jared Wilson’s blog tour for the book Your Jesus Is Too Safe. For more reviews of the book, you can go to Jared’s blog, The Gospel-Driven Church.

A Perfect Union: Dolley Madison and the Creation of the American Nation by Catherine Allgor

Quick, what do you think of when you think of Dolley Madison? One of two things: either cupcakes or the image of Dolley saving George Washington’s portrait from the depredations of the invading British Army during the War of 1812?

I did learn a lot more about Dolley Payne Todd Madison and her husband, James, from this biography than I knew before I read it. Did you know that:

Dolley was married to John Todd before she married Mr. Madison, and she had only one son who survived to adulthood, Payne Todd. Dolley and James Madison never had any children together, and he was accused of being impotent, a particularly malicious accusation for a man in those days. Dolley, on the other hand, was said to have been “oversexed”, thus destroying Mr. Madison’s manly force by her inordinate demands. (Only the opposition press said or hinted at such things. We only think the press nowadays is obsessed with sexual scandal and impropriety. Back then, it was no holds barred.)

Dolley’s son Payne was a wastrel and an alcoholic who was nevertheless adored and pampered by his blindly affectionate mother.

Dolley exercised considerable power in Washington society and as a partner in James Madison’s presidency, although she disclaimed any knowledge or influence in political matters as befitted a woman of her time.

Dolley Payne was born into a Quaker family. Her father owned slaves, but he freed them and moved to Philadelphia as a matter of conscience. However, the Madisons were an old, venerable, and slave-owning Virginia family, and after her marriage Dolley became enmeshed in the “peculiar institution” of slavery and never expressed any reservations about slavery or about her participation in owning slaves.

Dolley owned a pet macaw named Polly. Polly was impressive to guests for “her colorful feathers and ability to talk”, but the macaw was also a menace, dive-bombing visitors, screaming and pecking at them.

Dolley enjoyed writing poems, epigrams, and letters, but many of her letters were burned after her death by her nieces in an attempt to protect her reputation, privacy, and legacy.

Although she was a church-goer, Dolley Madison was not baptized into any church until 1845 when she and her niece Annie Payne were baptized at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Washington, D.C.

As James Madison lay dying in June 1836, his doctors offered to prolong his life with drugs so that he could die on the Fourth of July as Thomas Jefferson and John Adams had done ten years earlier in 1826. Madison declined their ministrations, saying that he preferred to die “in full possession of all his noble faculties.” Madison died on June 28, 1836.

Dolley lived until 1849 and became the most celebrated woman in Washington society.

Ms. Allgor’s biography of Dolley Madison is readable and features lots more interesting facts and observations; however, the book does have a couple of drawbacks as far as I’m concerned. It begins with a “note on names” in which Ms. Allgor explains her rather confusing system of nomenclature. Rather than refer to men by their last names, as in “Madison” and “Jefferson” and “Adams”, and women by their first or first and last, as in “Dolley” or “Dolley Madison”, the author chooses to call some by first names only (men and women in “political partnerships”) and others by their last names or full names. The result is confusing and distracting.

Also, as another seeming manifestation of overactive feminism, the author spends a great deal of time, like half of the book, “proving” that Dolley was a consummate politician even though Dolley Madison herself claimed to eschew politics as an essentially manly pursuit. Ms. Allgor’s premise that Dolley Madison was involved in politics and a full partner in her husband’s presidency is indisputable, but it comes across in a “protests-too-much” manner that wore me out as a reader after a while. Yes, I get it. She was doing politics in the parlor and in the drawing room even while Mr. Madison met with the Cabinet upstairs. Now, get on with the story.

Aside from these two niggling issues with Ms. Allgor’s biography, I did enjoy the book, and I would recommend it. I feel as if I gained some measure of insight into the political life of early nineteenth century America and into the lives of James and Dolley Madison. (And yes, I put James’s name first because I thought that putting Dolley’s first would be distracting and annoying. I’m a bad feminist.)

Next up on the Presidential Hit Parade: James Monroe. I have James Monroe: The Quest for National Identity by Harry Ammon on my list of possibilities for this project. Does anyone have any other suggestions for a good biography of Mr. Monroe?

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken

Ms. McCracken writes well. And she and her husband seem to have a wonderful, mutually supportive marriage. Those are the good parts of the book.

Exact Replica is a memoir of the author’s experience with the death of her first child and the subsequent healthy birth of her second. I wanted to read it because I once had a daughter that was stillborn. However, although I grieved then and still think of my daughter, Joanna, who is now in heaven, Ms. McCracken takes grief to another level. France (the entire country) is “ruined” for her since her baby was born and died there. (What about the rest of us who manage to cope while living in the same place after losing loved ones?) I am not invalidating or disallowing her reactions and emotions; they’re hers, and she has a right to feel whatever she feels. Nevertheless, her experience wasn’t mine, and I didn’t find much to identify with in this book.

When Joanna died (she would be 15 years old now), I was very sad. I was also very ill, having lost so much blood that I needed a transfusion. I don’t remember expecting all of my friends to send cards and emails and make phone calls and rejecting them if they did not. Of course, it was nice to hear that people cared, but Ms.McCracken is “not speaking” to a close friend because said friend was three months late in sending condolences and then said the wrong thing.

Ms. McCracken’s midwife said something very stupid and insensitive at the hospital when the author was recovering from the birth of her stillborn baby. The rage that Ms. McCracken and her husband felt for this hapless and admittedly thoughtless midwife was all out of proportion; I think, amateur psychologist that I am, that they were angry about the loss of their baby and displaced that anger onto the midwife.

Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend this book for anyone who is grieving the loss of a child; too much self indulgent wallowing in emotion, not enough help for others who are experiencing loss. It made me feel vaguely guilty for not being as devastated as the author was. Do you have a recommendation for reading for a mother (or father) who has lost a child?