Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand.
Random House, 2010. 473 pages.
An easily-recommended biography of the remarkable Louis Zamperini-- rambunctious child, Olympic runner, World War II bombardier, prisoner of war, haunted veteran, born-again inspirational speaker. He's shot down! Set adrift! Rescued... no, captured! Tied up and tortured! Escaped... no, captured! Tied up and tested and tortured some more! The subtitle sums it up: time and again, as the protagonist cheats death, we cheat and flip ahead in the story to make sure that the resilient and redeemed Louis does indeed survive.
Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert, Shaper of Nations by Georgina Howell.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. 481 pages.
Well, well, well, what have we here? If savvy British journalist Georgina Howell is to believed, we have one extraordinarily accomplished English Victorian gal! During much of the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries, Gertrude Margaret Lowthian Bell (1868-1926) alternately toodled and trekked her way about Greater Syria, Mesopotamia, Asia Minor, and Arabia, writing witty missives, gathering critical intelligence, exploring sand-covered areas, mapping sand-covered areas, digging up remarkable things from sand-covered areas, establishing dynasties, and administering emerging modern states. She hung out with T.E. Lawrence (a.k.a. Lawrence of Arabia, and our nomination for Best Appearance by an Iconic British Army Officer in this biography), but curiously failed to consummate an interminable relationship with married-to-someone-who-simply-didn't-understand-him Lieutenant Colonel Dick Doughty-Wylie. That's Dick. Doughty. Wylie. The name says it all.
Gertrude got on smashingly well with imperialistic British officials and Middle Eastern tribal leaders alike, especially when one considers her proclivities for desert-reigning and nation-shaping-- and diva-like penchants for camel-swapping and canvas tub-bathing. Oxford educated, fluent in six-count-'em-six languages, vaunted mountaineer, charming archaeologist: she was, we think, the Most Interesting Woman in the World! She didn't always drink beer but as a point of fact did indeed drink goat's milk proffered by locals and muddy water procured from puddles. Stay thirsty, my friends.
Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall.
Alfred A Knopf, 2009. 287 pages.
The Cellar Door Book Society enjoys this informative, readable, and flat-out funny tour de force prompted by one runner's podiatric rumination: "How come my foot hurts?" Searching for an answer to that existential question, author Christopher McDougall takes us on a rambling trail run across Death Valley deserts, up Rocky Mountain roads, through Mexico's Copper Canyon ravines, down through the centuries, and around the world on a quest for facts and understanding about the history of humans in motion, the tradition of long-distance running, and the sensibility of high-mileage training. Along the way, we consume a lot of beer, scrutinize a lot of bare feet, and meet a compelling cast of characters: an elusive former boxer named Caballo Blanco, the enigmatic and exceptionally energetic Tarahumara Indians, and assorted quirky-yet-lovable surf-punks and ultra-marathoners. And when we stop to catch our breath and look around, we realize that Born to Run pays brilliant homage to our innate need for movement: it's a paean to the act of running.
McDougall's discussion of a collective evolutionary predisposition for distance running undoubtedly tempts us to lash Goodyear radial strips to aching soles of formerly Nike-encased feet and to engage in a bit of old-fashioned persistence hunting on a God-forsaken veldt, chasing to-the-death a wild boar or a wapiti for Sunday brunch. Truth be told, Born to Run does indeed compel several gentle readers to fill polypropylene bottles with home-brewed chia fresca-- also called iskiate-- the powerful and popular Tarahumara drink made with chia seeds, water, lemon or lime. The verdict: this is akin to licking a Chia Pet, to hydrating with the gelatinous goo that one siphons from stagnant drains. But hey, different libations for different homo sapiens....
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot.
Crown Publishers, 2010. 369 pages.
In the opening pages, we fear that we will be freaked out by this exploration of the life and legacy of Henrietta Lacks, an African-American woman whose cancer cells-- harvested without her knowledge and without consent of family members before her death in 1951-- produced the immortal HeLa cell line that revolutionized modern scientific research. But we find ourselves looking forward to picking it up and reading more: it is well-researched, masterfully woven... one family's story merged brilliantly with a discussion of social justice and bioethics, a narrative that is at once humane and incisive, deeply personal and far-reaching.
