Rick Fisk’s Review of The Great Bridge by David McCullough

David McCullough’s The Great Bridge is an extraordinary book. It tells the tale of how the Brooklyn Bridge was conceived and built. As is the case with other McCullough works, it is superbly crafted and reads as well as any great work of fiction. The main focus of the book is the bridge, but it is about the fascinating human beings who made the bridge possible. Designed originally by John A. Roebling, it was his son Washington who completed it, along with his incredible wife Emily — as unlikely a story in the Victorian era as one might encounter.

One of the reasons I found the book so fascinating was the great love and respect Washington and Emily showed each other, culminating in Emily’s selfless dedication to Washington after he suffered physical catastrophe during the bridge’s construction.
Besides the Roeblings, the cast of characters involved with the bridge contains a who’s who of New York’s political and industrial giants, including A.C. Barnes (whom you might associate with today’s Barns & Noble), Seth Low (two-term mayor of Brooklyn, and one-term mayor of New York), and William Marcy Tweed (the infamous “Boss” Tweed of Tammany Hall). Tangentially even Henry Ward Beecher had a part to play.

For a while, Brooklyn’s Great Bridge was the world’s largest suspension bridge and even though eclipsed by later works including the Golden Gate, it is still the only bridge with a pedestrian promenade. Walking it has been on my own personal bucket list since first reading this book.

While construction of a bridge that might seem to some as exciting as watching paint dry, this book is anything but droll. I was fascinated throughout, but especially so upon learning that what I always thought was an affliction limited to divers, “the bends,” was discovered by bridge builders who were sinking the footings of their creations using specially-designed platforms – caissons – hence the original name of the malady, caisson disease.

McCullough’s book was first published in 1972, and a further testament to its greatness is the fact that it is still in print. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, I have a 1982 paperback edition that was signed by the author. Neat.

I highly recommend any edition you can lay your hands on. Four stars.

Rick Fisk’s Review of Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mendel

Station Eleven is one of those books that is so well-conceived and executed that you are sad when there’s no more to read. After reading so many post-apocalyptic novels, many which barely bother to explain what caused society’s collapse, I expected another contrived and unimaginative version of The Hunger Games or Divergent. While I did enjoy both afore-mentioned series’ this standalone far surpasses either in both imagination and quality of prose.

The story crosses both sides of a global catastrophe from several characters’ point of view, all of whom, in one way or another, are satellites of a famous actor who, in the opening pages is performing King Lear at the Elgin Theatre in Toronto.

Emily St. John Mandel draws us into a horrifying and totally plausible world-wide catastrophe and then through ingenious flashbacks and historical reference sews together a tale that is as rich as any great myth.

Even if this type of story isn’t one’s ‘cup of tea,’ I would bet that even the most reluctant would find it riveting.

Station Eleven refers to a self-published comic, written and illustrated by one of the main characters, a frustrated artist who settles for corporate doldrum, yet still manages to complete a few issues of her creation. One of the more interesting facets of this plot device is the way in which the comic influences the characters. Mandel also hints of how all art is a reflection of the creator’s own life and times. That theme is further hammered home when members of the book’s post-apocalyptic theatre troupe, The Symphony, discuss Shakespeare’s own relationship with the plague.

Mandel leaves nothing undone in this novel that needed to be sewn up. Everything has its place, making me  hungry for anything else she may have written.

Four stars. 

Rick Fisk – TDCJ

AI Quarterly E-Newsletter: Spring 2016

AI Newsletter Spring 2016

Page one is shown below, click the link above for the PDF file with clickable links.

 

Martin Lockett’s Review of Lucy’s Legacy by Donald C. Johanson

Fascinating. Riveting. Provocative. The list of superlatives to describe this book could go on for pages. Johanson – the famed archeologist who discovered the 3.2 million-year-old hominid (human ancestry) fossil – has written a book for the ages with this one. This book chronicles his expeditions into the ancient sites of Eastern Africa for the discovery of hominid bones in a vivid and relatable way. He speaks candidly about his discouragement and discontentment with findings (and the lack thereof) and allows his readers to feel as though they are right alongside him as he traverses these historic sites where he luckily “stumbles” across the most important fossils to mankind to date.

Review of David McCullough’s 1776 by Rick Fisk

The Imperfect Hero: 1776 – A Review

 All men are flawed and make mistakes. Character is that quality in a man that transcends his flaws and propels him to success. In reading David McCullough’s 1776, one will become intimate with George Washington’s flaws and mistakes, flaws which might have been glossed over by historians more inclined to fuel legend than deeper understanding. Yet, because McCullough reveals so much of Washington’s error, the accomplishments and character of America’s first Commander in Chief are all the more astonishing than any legend.

Through priceless, archived correspondence of English and American soldiers, historians, reporters, and civilians (Washington, John Hancock, Abigail Adams and others too numerous to list here), McCullough weaves a complex tale, rich in detail, reading like a novel too good to lay aside.

Martin Lockett’s Review of The Other Wes Moore by Wes Moore

This book was enjoyable from multiple standpoints. It was engaging and personable. It was compelling and sad. In short, it evoked a range of emotions that made it a memorable read.

The author, Wes Moore, keeps his readers engrossed by juxtaposing his story–beginning in childhood and culminating in his success as a serviceman and politician–alongside his not-so-fortunate counterpart (also named Wes Moore), who ends up in prison for life.

What I found most interesting was how two young men’s lives, who, coincidentally were given the same name at birth, could live mere blocks away from each other and yet end up in polar opposite circumstances in their adult lives. Wes Moore also noted this throughout his book, using it to underscore the importance of community resources, adult intervention, and positive steps that can be taken to change one’s outcome in life.

Letters From Prison: The Timber Hawkeye Edition

Our friend Timber Hawkeye authored Buddhist Boot Camp, which is popular both in the free world and behind the walls, where 2+ million people are locked up. He has sent over 6,000 copies to prisons across the globe, and has recently launched his second book, Faithfully Religionless, for which he is now touring. 

You can’t stop the storm … so stop trying. You can only calm yourself. The storm will pass. – Timber Hawkeye

I invited Timber to contribute something to our blog (and by invited I mean begged), and despite his current schedule and obligations, he graciously shared the following letter from an inmate. As we have noted before, and will continue to, inmates are some of the most grateful people you will ever meet.

 

Martin Lockett’s Review of Man’s Search For Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl

Perhaps the number one goal humans pursue is love, but coming in at a very close second has to be the pursuit to find meaning; to devote oneself to a purpose that validates their existence in some way. This 150-page book depicts in great detail, page after page, how this lofty goal can be attained for all humans; from the person who enjoys a six-figure salary to the homeless transient living to survive the winter.

Frankl, an acclaimed psychiatrist and concentration camp survivor, does nothing less than inspire hope and optimism as he exemplifies living a purpose-filled life while giving his readers vivid details of what it looked and felt like to be confined in one of the worst possible conditions man has been exposed to. His account of what horrid conditions he and his cohorts endured is jarring and riveting, as you can imagine, and you wonder – how on earth can someone find meaning in that? How can suffering in the worst way both mentally and physically serve a greater purpose for one’s life? Frankl makes it plainly comprehensible how such a miraculous feat can be achieved.

Review of Marlon James’s A Brief History of Seven Killings by Inmate Rick Fisk

Empires leave indelible marks on their conquests. Decades after they leave, voluntarily or not, their influence is still felt. Take Jamaica, for instance.Its natural resources and people had been plundered by the British for centuries. Even after slavery was finally abolished throughout the U.K., Jamaica and other British colonies remained in states of apartheid. While much of the world was pre-occupied with news of the Vietnam war, the streets of Kingston’s ghettos ran with raw sewage and blood. in any unstable location the same players seem to show up in order to gain influence: England, the U.S., Russia. The only beneficiaries are the international corporations supplying the arms or stealing the resources. The people being ‘governed’ rarely see their conditions improve.

In A Brief History of Seven Killings, Marlon James describes the chaos of Jamaica as it struggled to govern itself in a post-colonial world. Revolutionaries and counter-revolutionaries, their arms supplied through D.C. and Havana (presumably via Moscow) warred with each other from the late sixties to the nineties. One man, reggae legend Bob Marley, had a vision to bring the warring factions together for peace. For his efforts, he was rewarded with a commando-style assassination attempt in 1976. The book focuses on events leading to that attempt and its aftermath.

Marlon’s narrative, told through the eyes of ghosts, political refugees, intelligence personnel, and various posse members is as authentic and real as could be wanted. Born in Kingston himself, James gives us the unfiltered patois of the Jamaican characters, those who ‘chat bad’ and otherwise, without creating caricatures, something I can’t imagine a non-Jamaican author accomplishing.

This is a gritty story that never holds back yet never once preaches or lays down heavy judgements. The reader is left to ponder political questions on his own. James doesn’t give any hints as to which side is to blame, other than to point out that the conflicts themselves are how those in important positions can offer so little in the way of solutions and still retain power.

The concept of divide-and-conquer is illustrated with sublime skill by James’s eclectic cast of characters, highlighting all the more Bob Marley’s importance as a political figure in Jamaica’s history, even though he never held any political office.

The book is superbly crafted. Read it. Wind down and pick up James’s other masterpiece: The Book of Night Women. Five stars.

Rick Fisk, TDCJ

Review of Martin Lockett’s Palpable Irony by Inmate Rick Fisk

We introduced you to our friend Martin Lockett in a previous blog post. We are thrilled to say that Martin will be a regular contributor both here and in our quarterly newsletter. Do yourself a favor and get this book!

—♦—

Good people make mistakes. Martin Lockett is a good person who made an error in judgement which resulted in the deaths of two people. But for one red light, Martin might have escaped fate. After reading his memoir it is apparent that Lockett truly regrets the loss of life he caused but embraces his fate and his punishment without regret.

In Palpable Irony: Losing My Freedom to Find my Purpose, Lockett describes his journey from a shy, awkward young boy to a young man who falls in with some pretty rough characters just at that pivotal time when he’s coming into his own as an individual. The narrative – not only is it brutally honest, but also very well-written – makes one realize just how thin is that line between social failure and success.