Books acquired: none
Books read: “Train,” Tom Zoellner; “The Lost Art of Walking,” Geoff Nicholson; “Over the Hills,” David Lamb; “Beyond This Horizon,” Robert A. Heinlein
Hey, didn’t I just write one of these a couple of weeks ago? I did. Of course, February is a short month, and also, with me on my sickbed the first half of the month, writing January’s log was delayed. Anyway, here we are just four mornings into March.
February saw me complete four books, possibly assisted by my couch time, although the first one, “Train,” begun in late January, wasn’t wrapped up until Feb. 10, not the most promising start. Anyway, the three primary books all have a sort of theme, which is travel by means other than driving. The fourth, my first fiction of 2019, has a title that fit the theme.
Train (2014): Subtitle: “Riding the rails that created the modern world, from the Trans-Siberian to the Southwest Chief.” Zoellner rides the rails around the world and across the United States, returning with fare heartier than anything Amtrak serves, a stew of traveler stories, history and current events. (India’s goo and lack of automation are equally unbelievable.) He’ll make you understand how people were initially thunderstruck by and even frightened of a conveyance that traveled at an ungodly 20 mph.
Lost Art of Walking (2008): Subtitle: “The history, science, philosophy and literature of pedestrianism.” Like most rambles with friends, Nicholson’s book doesn’t stick to the path, takes a lot of digressions and lightly touches on various conversational subjects with humor and without getting too deep. I was expecting something more, say, a section on walking in literature. But as a collection of anecdotes and musings, it was an easy read and Nicholson is a witty, entertaining guide.
Over the Hills (1996): Subtitle: “A midlife escape across America by bicycle.” It was a pleasure reading about a middle-aged, unpretentious guy who ate plain American food, drank milkshakes and smoked as he biked solo across the country. (Although as he later died of esophageal cancer, perhaps he should’ve cut out the smokes.) Nothing bad happens to him on his journey besides flat tires and anxiety, so, Melville-like, he slips in chapters about the history of bicycling. Lamb’s writing is simple and graceful and he views non-coastal America with great affection.
Beyond This Horizon (1948): Subtitle: none, thankfully. There’s a little too much going on in this early Heinlein novel (duels! government finance! revolution! the meaning of life! football??), and the explanations of genetics bog things down. Still, it has its moments, and its confidence, ideas and good cheer point toward the fun, focused novels RAH would produce in the ’40s and ’50s.
“Over the Hills” was the winner this month, with “Train” a close second.
The three primary books came from Powell’s in Portland in 2016. I picked up the Heinlein in 2008, location forgotten.
How was your February, folks? Besides cold and wet, I mean.
Next month: edgy fare.