Dead Solid Perfect – Dan Jenkins, 1974 ★★★½

Tee Offs & Put Ons

People who pick up Dead Solid Perfect expecting a serious endeavor at sports fiction need to understand: This may be a golf novel, but it’s also a Dan Jenkins novel.

Jenkins’ gimmick with sportswriting was not unlike Dean Martin’s about singing: It was something he seemed to do on the way to the bar, preferably with a few bawdy jokes thrown in.

Don Quixote – Miguel de Cervantes, 1605-15 ★½

Trudging Through a Classic

The book wore me out long before it reached its merciful conclusion, its rambling narrative and repetitive prose making each of its more than a thousand pages like another millstone against my soul. 

And the worst part? All my long nights of reading, I carried with me the guilt I should be enjoying this.

Who am I not to admire Don Quixote?

And Then There Were None – Agatha Christie, 1939 ★★★★½

Putting on a Master Class in Murder

The image of Agatha Christie today is so often interlaid with that of crumpets and cosies, wet-weather ruminations, and dignified Belgians with luxuriant moustaches that one might almost suspect her the author of Tintin comics rather than some of the darkest and most fiendish mysteries of our time.

A quick corrective is on tap in the form of this, one of her blackest and most revered thrillers.

Johnny Carson – Henry Bushkin, 2013 ★★½

Keeping Uneasy Company with America's Host

One day, while being interviewed by a British journalist for an article that would appear in a February, 1978 issue of The New Yorker, the celebrated talk-show host Johnny Carson gave a strange answer to a routine question. Asked whom he regarded as his best friend, Carson named his lawyer, Henry Bushkin.

This must have come as a surprise to many readers, accustomed as they were to Carson’s smooth repartee with a wide range of guests on NBC-TV’s “The Tonight Show.” It certainly surprised Bushkin. 

But it won’t surprise anyone reading Bushkin’s memoir of life with Carson. By the time the anecdote occurs, almost halfway through the book, one senses Carson was a man without much in the way of friends or sentiment.

Hub – Robert Herring, 1981 ★½

Reflections on a Childhood Deferred

Sometimes childhood feels like a present that never quite got unwrapped. I had that feeling twice over with Hub.

Our title character is a pre-teen boy who lives in a river town in Arkansas. He seems the product of a loving, relatively successful family, but his life is centered around two other people.

One is Uncle Ethel, a wise old man who lives on an isolated island, alone but for his aged dog and his shotgun. The other is a trouble-making pal named Hitesy, who badgers Hub to do things he knows he shouldn’t, goading him with the magic word “chicken” whenever Hub hesitates. Hitesy brags his father doesn’t care what he does, and dares Hub to follow his example.

The Deceiver – Frederick Forsyth, 1991 ★★★★½

When a Man's Got a Job to Do

Sometimes it requires a shorter format for a craftsman’s quality to shine through. Not to take anything away from the novelist behind such classic long-form spy-fiction exercises as The Day Of The Jackal and The Fourth Protocol, but with Frederick Forsyth, there's something to be said for the merit of small packages, which is just what The Deceiver delivers.

Published in 1991, just as the Cold War was winding down, The Deceiver is designed as a look back at a series of cases late in the career of a top British spymaster. It’s oddly similar to another book published the same year.

In The Secret Pilgrim, John le Carré had his most famous spy character, George Smiley, deliver an informal dissertation regarding lessons learned to a group of English espionage students, which unspooled as a series of short stories. The same is true here, except in this case it's no casual gathering that's the setting, but a tense tribunal to determine whether to ashcan our protagonist as part of a best-forgotten past.

The Diary Of A Young Girl – Anne Frank, 1952 ★★★½

All She Wanted Was to Live Forever

Anne Frank belongs to the world, something truer today than ever before. Seventy years after the year of her confirmed death, her famous memoir of a life in hiding fell out of copyright law on January 1, 2016, meaning it can now be printed by anyone.

“I want to go on living even after my death!” she wrote in one of her diary entries. And now she shall, in cyberspace, with people free to arrange her thoughts and dreams with hypertext links and perhaps a GIF animation showing the five seconds when Anne poked her head out a window and was caught on a home movie.