The Pyramid by Henning Mankell

In the beginning, everything was just a fog.

Or perhaps it was like a thick-flowing sea where all was white and silent. The landscape of death. It was also the first thought that came to Kurt Wallander as he slowly began rising back to the surface. That he was already dead. He had reached twenty-one years of age, no more. A young policeman, barely an adult. And then a stranger had rushed up to him with a knife and he had not had time to throw himself out of harm's way.

Afterward there was only the white fog. And the silence. 

-The Pyramid 

When readers first met Kurt Wallander in Faceless Killers, he was already middle-aged and divorced, well on his way to becoming the sad sack that we know and love. Glimpses of his past have always been interesting, but few and far between. With The Pyramid, a collection of short stories by Henning Mankell, we finally get a better look at how Wallander became the detective and the man that he is.

In the first story, which I excerpted above, Wallander is still a beat cop in the very early stages of honing his instincts when he stumbles upon his first homicide investigation. By the last, he's within a month of embarking upon the Faceless Killers case. Needless to say, there's a lot that goes on in the meantime. As a pretty big fan of the series, I found it utterly absorbing to watch the way he grew, both as a person and as a detective. He makes mistakes--big mistakes, potentially fatal mistakes--and both learns and doesn't learn from them. I think that by reading these stories, I really began to appreciate the continuity in Mankell's work. Both Wallander's flaws and strengths were apparent pretty early on, and it's neat to see the way Mankell returns to and builds upon them, especially given what we already know of Wallander from the novels. I am more eager than ever to read the novels that I've missed so far.

I particularly found the evolution of Wallander's relationship with his father fascinating. In seeing the progression of his father's dementia from Wallander's point of view, we share his anger and frustration, but also his fears. This is captured especially well in the title story, in which Wallander's father fulfills the dream of a lifetime in going to Egypt, which has unexpected ramifications in Wallander's life as well as in the development of his case. I think I will be more tuned in to their relationship as I continue to read the series based on what I now know of their history. 

Interestingly, despite the fact that the events in this book proceed all other Wallander stories chronologically, I think it is best enjoyed after having at least one of the novels. This is not meant to be an introduction to the character; it's more of a reflection, with themes that will most resonate with readers who are already familiar with the series. I do think Mankell perhaps went a little heavy on emphasizing the Swedish anxiety theme--which he also makes a note about in the forward--but I can't actually disagree with him as to its importance to the character and the series. I could have probably done with one fewer pointed aside from Wallander or another character on the subject, though. That having been said, I enjoyed this book thoroughly and accordingly raced through it pretty darn fast. I have a lot of books in the lineup now, but surely another Wallander book will have to pop up in the near future.

Up next: Finally tracked down Dracula, which has been an interesting reread so far.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the Capitol's way of keeping the horror fresh and immediate. Not only are we in the districts forced to remember the iron grip of the Capitol's power each year, we are forced to celebrate it. And this year, I am one of the stars of the show. I will have to travel from district to district, to stand before the cheering crowds who secretly loathe me, to look down into the faces of the families whose children I have killed...

-Catching Fire

Remembering how well The Hunger Games served me on my trip over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was delighted when  Catching Fire came off the library's hold list just in time for my most recent travels. And the book lived up to my expectations perfectly--to the extent that I raced through the whole thing in just a few hours.

When we left Katniss Everdeen at the end of The Hunger Games, things were really going as well as she could have imagined. Placed in a terrible situation, Katniss outmaneuvered the Gamemakers and saved both herself and fellow tribute Peeta Mellark. She had no idea what ramifications her victory would have.

On the eve of her Victory Tour (as described above), Katniss learns that unrest has been brewing in some districts of Panem. The decidedly evil President Snow is furious with Katniss, as her act of defiance in the arena is perceived as the root cause of the recent troubles.  He threatens her in no uncertain terms: if she doesn't stay in line on the Victory Tour, she's putting her life and the lives of her family and friends at risk. It's a sobering reminder for Katniss of how, even as a victor, she will never be able to put the Games behind her.

In Catching Fire, Katniss not only grapples with how to survive in the increasingly draconian District 12; she also struggles with her relationships with Peeta and Gale and starts to understand just how necessary the rebellion she inadvertently touched off may be. There's also the Quarter Quell, about which I won't say a word. Part of the reason Suzanne Collins's writing is so engaging is that she is able to surprise the reader. There are definitely times when the reader is ahead of Katniss, of course--even after President Snow's visit, she is slow to realize just how much impact she had during the Hunger Games, for instance. Katniss is an amazing heroine, though--brave and resourceful, not to mention still quite adept with a bow and arrow. She's not always so quick to understand people, but it would be pretty boring if she could do everything. Besides, she's a teenage girl growing up in a world in which she has been left ignorant of what we would consider common knowledge (she's vaguely familiar with the concept of a jungle, for instance). I'll cut her some slack.

Catching Fire ends on a helluva cliffhanger, so I am eager to read the third book of the trilogy, Mockingjay.  I've become invested in so many of the characters--besides Peeta and Kaniss, of course, I'm intrigued to see what lies in store for the complex Haymitch, kindly Madge, and even new characters like Finnick. If Collins can keep up the same level of quality she's maintained throughout the first two books (fingers crossed!), it's bound to be quite a ride.

Up next: I've been looking all over my house for Dracula, as I recently watched the 1992 film adaptation and wanted to see just how far astray it wandered. If it's nowhere to be found, I have a book of Wallander short stories that wants reading, for sure.

Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin

The Halcyon-Day courtship had been whirlwind. DeDe and Beauchamp were married in June 1973 on the sunlit slopes of Halcyon Hill, the bride's family estate in Hillsborough. At her own insistence, the bride was barefoot. She wore a peasant dress by Adolfo of Saks Fifth Avenue. Her maid of honor and Bennington roommate, Muffy van Wyck, recited selections from Kahlil Gibran, while a string quartet played the theme from Elvira Madigan.

After the wedding, the bride's mother, Frannie Halcyon, told reporters: "We're so proud of our DeDe. She's always been such an individualist."

-Tales of the City

(I don't know about you, but now I'm picturing Frannie Halcyon as Helen Morgendorffer from Daria.)

In Tales of the City, author Armistead Maupin weaves together the lives of a number of quirky characters living in San Francisco in the 1970s. Central to this cast is Mary Ann Singleton, a naive Cleveland transplant who is bowled over by the more colorful aspects of life in her new home. She finds an apartment at 28 Barbary Lane, where she meets hippie landlady Anna Madrigal (she thoughtfully leaves a joint for each new tenant), strong-willed Mona, playboy Brian, and flamboyant Michael. Each in turn has his or her own coworkers, friends, and lovers, and gradually their lives begin to intersect in many different ways.

Tales of the City is often light and soapy, and also pretty darn enjoyable. Maupin has divided the book into many short chapters, making it easy for the reader to get sucked into reading just a few more pages...then a few more after that. There's enough suspense to keep the reader invested as well—one character's mysterious past, another's affair, another's shadowy motives, etc. None of the characters is particularly multidimensional, but they're mostly likable all the same. It's no wonder that Maupin's written a series to follow Tales of the City; it seems like almost all of these characters still have plenty of story in them. They certainly haven't worn out their welcomes yet. 

I'm not sure that I'm ready to get invested in the series quite yet, but I enjoyed Tales of the City enough that I could see picking up the next book in the future. It's perfect for when you're in the mood for something fun and frothy--brilliant beach reading, I'd imagine.

Up next: Finished Catching Fire in a day, so I suppose I will be back to review that soon!

Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman

The Woodward-Bernstein book became a famous and successful film. I saw it at my local neighborhood theatre and it seemed very much to resemble what I'd done; of course there were changes but there are always changes. There was a lot of ad-libbing, scenes were placed in different locations, that kind of thing. But the structure of the piece remained unchanged. And it also seemed, with what objectivity I could bring to it, to be well directed and acted, especially by the stars. It won a bunch of Oscars and numberless other awards besides.

And if you were to ask me "What would you change if you had your movie life to live over?" I'd tell you that I'd have written exactly the screenplays I've written.

Only I wouldn't have come near All the President's Men....

-Adventures in the Screen Trade

William Goldman is the writer behind two movies that I love, The Princess Bride and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. If he'd never done anything else, that would be a pretty amazing legacy to leave behind. But Goldman has logged plenty of time behind the scenes in Hollywood. In Adventures in the Screen Trade, he pulls back the curtain and shows the reader how movies get made.

Adventures in the Screen Trade is divided into several parts. First Goldman offers his perspective on different players on the scene (agents, producers, etc.) and what they actually do. He also dives into the process of working on each of the films he's been involved with*, even if his screenplay ended up not being used. Some editions apparently contain the entire screenplay of Butch Cassidy with Goldman's commentary--mine did not. Either that or I somehow managed to forget reading an entire screenplay, which seems...unlikely, don't you think? Anyway, Goldman concludes the book with an inside look at the process of writing a screenplay; he provides a short story of his own, his proposed screen adaptation, and comments from various production people (cinematographer, composer, etc.) on how they would handle it. It's really quite fascinating.

Goldman is an incredibly lively storyteller, as you might imagine if you've seen any of his films. I particularly enjoyed some of his opinions on how different actors worked. He clearly loved Paul Newman, who comes across as someone entirely uninterested in the politics of being a movie star**. Robert Redford does not come off quite as well—professional and talented, to be sure, but decidedly more invested in his movie star image, especially once his career takes off post-Butch Cassidy.  Goldman's not just in it to dish, but he doesn't pull punches either: a story about Laurence Olivier and Dustin Hoffman on the set of Marathon Man left me wincing.

As someone who is interested in film, I found Adventures in the Screen Trade to be pretty absorbing at points, particularly as Goldman got into his experience with individual films (you might have guessed from the excerpt above that All The President's Men was especially dramatic).  I imagine this would be an invaluable source for someone interested in pursuing screenwriting, particularly the last section. (I especially loved the way director George Roy Hill tore apart the screenplay. He did not mince words. Wow.) I've never read anything that explained filmmaking in such a way. It reminds me of when I took a film class in college and for the first time really began to appreciate the technical elements of film, not just the acting and the story.

Also, it really made me want to watch Butch Cassidy again, and that can't be a bad thing.

Up next: Tales of the City, for real this time.

*Current as of the writing of this book. The sequel, Which Lie Did I Tell? covers his later work. For whatever reason, I read that one first, years ago, and I remember enjoying it thoroughly.

**I love Paul Newman as well, so I was happy to read this. Also excited to add Harper to my Netflix queue, as it sounded quite interesting based on what Goldman described.