Louis Bayard (1) (1963–)

Here's Tiny Tim Cratchit, all grown up, trying to find himself (to put a 20th century term to it) or claim his narrative (if we want to drag him all the way into this century), and getting mixed up in some pretty seamy stuff. Both his parents are dead, and he is somewhat estranged from his surviving siblings. Uncle Ebenezer is still doling out support, but Tim gets room and board in a brothel in exchange for teaching the "matron" to read, and spends many a night trawling the river and canals with a retired sea captain, hoping to haul up a dead body with treasure in its pockets. He "sees" his father periodically here and there, and writes letters to Bob trying to sort out his legacy. It's a very Dickensian existence. When Tim stumbles on evidence of a white slavery scheme victimizing very young girls, he finds a purpose. At first he hopes only to save one particular girl who seems to have temporarily escaped the clutches of the villains, but soon he begins to hope he might bring down the whole crooked undertaking. It's 19th century skulduggery, with lots of thrills, suspense and plot twists. I loved it. Grim subject matter, but well handled.… (altro)

Read Millard's *River of Doubt* some years ago, and found the account Roosevelt's expedition to map an undiscovered South America river absolutely riveting. However, I can't say I found this imagined tale of a supernatural encounter along the way to be nearly as interesting.

Though billed as a sort of cryptozoological adventure story, this is more accurately a psychological exploration of Roosevelt's son Kermit. In this version, Kermit's a self-loathing introvert flirting with depression and perhaps a genetic tendency towards madness, inherited from his Uncle Edmond, the black sheep of the Roosevelt family. All this certainly rings as true - can you imagine being son of a man like TR, surrounded by a host of exceptional offspring? I can only imagine how overwhelming that must have been for someone whose nature was diametrically opposed.

As deprivations mount (unceasing physical toil, hunger, parasitism, rain, malaria, etc.), the Roosevelts become involved in a hunt for a terrifying "beast" - a thing with an appetite so voracious, all it leaves behind is are a series of skin-suits. But is the beast some kind of horrifying as-yet-unidentified species, a supernatural entity ... or perhaps a metaphor for the pschological despair that Kermit is experiencing?

I'm on the fence about Bayard's literary style. As someone with a graduate degree in English, I appreciate literary flair, and Bayard definitely knows how to leverage literary devices like symbolism and metaphor. However, I can't escape the feeling that despite all the literary furbelows, this isn't as deep as Bayard would have us believe. The symbols and metaphors are fairly transparent, and Kermit, despite being given the opportunity to examine himself entirely stripped of social/cultural/emotional artifice (how many people get that chance?) doesn't end up learning anything from his experience, which feels like a missed opportunity. Feel like Bayard is shooting for "we are all capable of evil; it's love that civilizes us" but lets himself get distracted by juicy gothic horror he's created.… (altro)

The Kennedy's, especially JFK, do not come off too well in this reimagining of the courtship of Jack and Jackie. It is a story of friendship, between Lem Billings, JFK's gay best friend from prep school and Jackie. According to the story, Lem is supposed to break it to Jackie about Jack's dalliances and how they will continue after marriage, but he can't bring himself to do this, because he fears losing her friendship, and ultimately, JFK's. It's a sad story, for Lem, who seems to love JFK above all others, and who, in his old age, is abandoned by the Kennedy tribe. It's a well done story, but I thought it could have been edited down a bit.… (altro)