The Twelve Caesars – Suetonius, c. 121 ★★★★★

When Bias Isn't Such a Bad Thing

Can a biased historical account be preferred over one that is more even-handed? It’s not an easy ethical question, but in terms of invigorating a reader with the spirit of a lost time, not to mention crafting a deep-dish narrative that pulls you in, the answer can be yes.

That’s even more true if the writer is Suetonius, and the work this account of the early rulers of the Roman empire.

Sharp character sketches and piquant social commentary make the First Century A. D. come alive in a way that makes you believe you are really half-back in time, reluctant to realize much of what he was writing was tabloid journalism for the stylus age. Not fiction, but likely blown well out of proportion for the sake of readability and old grudges.

So what!

Doll – Ed McBain, 1965 ★★★½

One of Our Detectives Is Missing

While the 87^th Precinct police procedural series was built on an entire squad of detectives working together as the main protagonist, this was not how it really worked in its 50-year run. Ed McBain couldn’t help but make his alter ego, Steve Carella, the star of the series. Most times, if they were lucky, the other plainclothes officers got to ride shotgun.

This time, McBain deliberately takes Carella out of the loop, missing and presumed dead. The rest of the team must figure out what he knew back in Chapter 3, and save their comrade by solving a murder.

However bendy its approach, Doll is a fine example of the classic 87^th Precinct formula, a dark and compelling crime, detailed characterizations, clear insights into the processes of a criminal investigation, and a storyline that never slackens. It doesn’t always make sense, but the pages fly by too fast to notice.

The Bill James Baseball Abstract 1987 – Bill James, 1987 ★★★

Eyes on the Prize

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times for baseball in 1986.

On the one hand, you had infielders who defied gravity, power pitchers out of Marvel Comics, a postseason for the ages, and stolen bases dominating the game at a level they never did before or would again.

On the other hand, you had collusion by greedy owners watering down the game, recreational drug use wrecking careers and lives, and a growing realization our national pastime was losing ground to football.

Fortunately, Bill James was still producing annual Abstracts to lend his analytical perspective and a touch of humor to the situation.

Octopussy – Ian Fleming, 1966 ★★½

Bonds and Sods

The book that unnerved me more than any other, if only because I had to ask a female store clerk if they had it in stock, is this capstone to the career of one of my favorite authors. From the title to the usually hideous cover art, it remains a strange outlier in the Bond oeuvre.

While not a great read, Octopussy is by no means terrible. Ian Fleming was always troubled by the outlandish nature of his character’s adventures, frequently pointing out real espionage is never so thrilling. Keep that in mind when reading this.

In each of the three stories, Bond deals in lower-key activities, seedy forays into the underbelly of humanity involving little to no personal risk. His job is putting an end to his government’s enemies, one way or another, but there is a sense of resigned boredom about it.