Category Archives: Library

Discrepancies

So I’m reading this detective novel, published in Great Britain, and enjoying it, despite the many typos. The proofreader must have been drunk. Then, in a little history sequence, a character pronounces the Texas Brigade a cavalry outfit. Not hardly. Straight-leg infantry, entirely. Then April 21 is named as Texas Independence Day. Uh, uh. It’s March 2. Finally, in a little ghost scene, the main character is in a dream fight with Rebel soldiers and he smells cordite. No, he doesn’t. Cordite, or smokeless powder, wasn’t even invented until a decade or more after the war. Sloppy. Really sloppy. Authors need to do their homework. Otherwise their carefully contrived illusion falls apart. Same with the typos. You stumble over them, slowing down in puzzlement. I’ll finish the book, but not with the same enthusiasm I began it. Just hope the mistakes don’t continue. But I have to expect they will.

UPDATE: The typos did, over and over. But the book, "In The Electric Mist With Confederate Dead," was a good one nevertheless. As for the mistakes, I found an interview with the author, Houstonian James Lee Burke, in which he admitted: "I’ve never researched anything, and it probably shows. [Laughs]." Or paid attention in Texas history class. For all that, I decided to try another, "The Neon Rain."

Genetic genealogy

The only thing that competes with pornography on the Web is genealogy, and the biggest trend in family research is genetics testing. Take a swab of saliva from your inner cheek and send it off with a check for a few hundred dollars, and you can find out where your ancestors likely came from–well before that place you’ve tediously traced them back to and apparently reached a dead end. I’m almost ready to try it, with a little more investigation. I’m not expecting any surprises of this order, but, hey, you never know.

Trashing Dumbledore

It was bad enough when the stately Dumbledore of the first Harry Potter movie was replaced by the fussy, disheveled one of the later flicks. It was worse when J.K. Rowling’s later books became tedious, over-written lessons in how not to write fiction: full of crutch adverbs, confusing parenthetical phrases and always dependent on final-chapter explanations. Now the poor woman, who was recently photographed displaying her wares like a Hollywood tart, wants us to believe that Dumbledore was a closeted gay. Fortunately–unlike the completely unnecessary F-word she sullied the final book with–there’s no conclusive sign of the old wizard’s sexual preferences in the story. So who cares what she left out? The Harry Potter tales belong to everyone now. They aren’t hers to muddy anymore.

An equal-opportunity irritant

You don’t have to agree with former Mexican president Vicente Fox on everything to enjoy his book, "Revolution of Hope," which I’m barely fifty pages into and already impressed with its compelling candor and humor. It’s easy to see why some Mexicans find him as hard to take as some gringos do. He irritates them by airing such dirty laundry as their culture of bribery and manana tardiness, while bugging us by championing the illegal immigrants who swarm our southern border. But it’s hard not to listen to (and like) the fellow who grew up milking cows on the rancho of his Cincinnati-born grandfather, and tying strings to the tails of dragonflies because he couldn’t afford a kite. I think he’s short-sighted about Iraq, but in his best incarnation, he’s a globalist, a capitalist and a free-marketeer whose ideal is the one his Jesuit professors taught him and his peers of being "men for others."

El Presidente’s book

I usually enjoy reading San Diego Union columnist Ruben Navarrette, Jr. How many conservative Mexican-American journalists are there, after all? So I’m taking his advice to read former Mexico president Vicente Fox’s new book aimed at an American audience, Revolution of Hope:

"It is full of charming stories and insights into everything from Mexico’s fledgling democracy to its trade with Asia to its precarious relationship with the United States. It should be required reading for anyone who is curious about the effect Latin America will have on the United States for years to come…"

Most of the early reviewers at the book link disliked it. But there’s obviously more to the man whose statue recently was pulled down than most of us know. For instance, his paternal grandfather, Joseph, was an American who migrated to Mexico from Ohio in the 1890s. Chew on that tidbit for a while.

Black College Football

Given the obvious preponderance of black athletes in college and pro football, you’d think this history of a hundred years of traditionally-black college football teams by an old editor of mine, Michael Hurd, would sell better than it does at Amazon. But, then, Mike was never able to interest the Manhattan-based publishing industry in it, either–progressive as they like to claim to be. This is one history that deserves a bigger audience. I enjoyed reading it, so I’m adding it to the Library.

Across The Fence

John Stryker "Tilt" Meyer’s 2003 book, "Across the Fence: The Secret War in Vietnam," is actually more about fighting in Laos and Cambodia than it is about Vietnam. It’s a quick read at 246 pages. It’s also an intense one. One professional reviewer called his combat narratives "pure grain alcohol," and they certainly are spare and to the point, without a lot of moralizing, agonizing, or whatever. If the hair doesn’t stand up on the back of your neck, you might want to check your pulse.

Like most Vietnam combat veterans I had heard of MACV SOG, Meyer’s secret SF unit, but wasn’t really aware of what they did (other than recon), or how or why. His book tells me, but still leaves me wondering what the value of it was, other than helping fighter-bombers and gunships find large concentrations of the North Vietnamese Army to destroy in the Laos and Cambodian sanctuaries. Maybe that was reason enough. Their death’s head insignia, which I saw years after the war in an order of battle, was off-putting. It reminded me of the Nazi SS. But they certainly brought plenty of death to the enemy, rather than the civilians that the SS specialized in killing.

One still wonders about the usefulness of it all. Many of the missions Meyer describes went bad almost immediately, as the "spike" teams (not "strike" teams, as some writers mistakenly term it) were unwittingly inserted into concentrations of the enemy, making recon impossible. Yet when it worked, it worked well. Meyer describes tapping into NVA telephone lines along the Ho Chi Minh Trail–in some spots up to four lanes wide–and recording the conversations for later analysis. They took a lot of photographs of camps and equipment, even once overheard a Russian speaker on an enemy radio frequency, and often tried to capture enemy soldiers for interrogation, but apparently never succeeded at that. The parts about Meyer having to defend the Vietnamese members of his teams from ill-treatment by ignorant American Marines and soldiers reminds me of similar problems when I was a MACV adviser to South Vietnamese militia. The Marines in our AO were always shooting us up.

You get the impression from the book that Meyer isn’t telling all he knows, about MACV SOG or himself. Indeed, a second book apparently is in the works, like this one, also based on interviews with other SOG troops, as well as his own experiences. I’ll look forward to reading that one, too. Get your copy of "Across The Fence" here. There are two others books about it there, an older one and a new one just out.