Company Commander – Charles B. MacDonald, 1947 ★★★½

Bullets and Boredom on the Western Front

The day-to-day experience of leading an American infantry company into the heart of German and beyond is given real feeling as well as facts in this first-person World War II memoir. What it lacks in taut adventure it makes up for in authenticity.

Charles B. MacDonald testifies to the grim nature of war in many forms, including a night retreat under bombardment and advancing into enemy flak positions. Boredom and terror were frequent companions; so too was death.

The time we spend with MacDonald and his company are in places that don’t get much attention in histories of the war. But calling it rear-echelon duty isn’t right, either. They had more than enough to do.

Life, The Universe And Everything – Douglas Adams, 1984 ★★★

How Not to End a Trilogy

Concluding a trilogy can’t be easy. A long train of character arcs, plot twists, themes, motifs, and denouements must be accounted for. That is unless you are Douglas Adams, and can surmount this challenge by entirely ignoring it with a barrage of random, winning silliness.

Not every reader can be bought off by cosmic gags or pratfalls without some closure as to what it all means. But take your pleasures in life where you can. You don’t have to love Life, The Universe And Everything to appreciate it for what it is rather than what it isn’t.

One thing it certainly isn’t is the end of the trilogy, third book or not.

A Face In The Crowd – Budd Schulberg, 1957 ★★★

Big Dreams on the Little Screen

When director Elia Kazan and writer Budd Schulberg collaborated on their next film project after the legendary On The Waterfront, it was an anticipated event. Would the new film be as good?

The answer, surprisingly, was yes, only not right away. It took audiences and critics many years to warm to A Face In The Crowd, perhaps because in 1957 its satirical take on television and marketing was too ahead of its time. Today, it seems much more relevant, if a bit quaint.

If nothing else, we are better positioned to appreciate the spectacle of Andy Griffith, not yet known as TV’s kindliest sheriff, driving his image into a ditch before he even got it. His Lonesome Rhodes is a foul-minded, manipulative, corrupt spinner of hokey cornpone wisdom who hoodwinks millions into falling in love with him:

Athabasca – Alistair MacLean, 1980 ★½

A Thriller on the Rocks

What can you say about a thriller where everything happens at once and an invisible adversary manages to be everywhere and nowhere?

Athabasca is a novel driven by a need to exceed. Not so much in terms of thrills, but in scale. What starts out as a scenic visit by security experts to discuss a possible threat at the mouth of the Alaska Pipeline quickly escalates into a deadly, fiery crisis that draws in a second mammoth oil-extraction operation thousands of miles away.

For this trio of intrepid if overweight investigators led by the smug, loquacious Jim Brady, big explosions, mutilated bodies, and shadowy terrorists are all secondary to how long their booze supply holds up.