REVIEWED BY CAROLINE LEAVITT
CRITIC'S CHOICE
NONFICTION
True crime gets the Grisham treatment in this saga about botched justice in a small town. In his first nonfiction book, the thrill-meister resurrects the story of a sensational murder with a cast of painfully ordinary characters. In 1982, a cocktail waitress named Debra Sue Carter was brutally raped and then killed in her apartment in Ada, Okla., and the town went crazy with fear. Evidence was scanty, and for five long years, cops couldn't find a decent suspect. Not until a local arrested on drunk-driving charges suggested a scapegoat: Ron Williamson—a native son who'd had a shot at the Oakland A's before he was sidelined by boozing and mental illness. He declared his innocence, but the police felt that they had their man. His trial, as Grisham makes clear, was straight from Kafka. Grisham's pared-down prose and matter-of-fact voice make for tense reading, and he reminds us all how easily, and often, one act of violent injustice can lead to another.
By Charles Frazier
REVIEWED BY JONATHAN DURBIN
DON'T MISS
NOVEL
Frazier's commanding second novel is set in the early days of the American frontier. Like Cold Mountain (adapted for the screen in '03), Thirteen Moons is a literary love story, and it is ambitious in its span of the 19th century. The book follows Will Cooper, a self-taught lawyer who was raised by native Americans. Cooper's pre-Civil War adventures lead him to meetings with legends including Davy Crockett, John C. Calhoun and President Andrew Jackson, none of whom he particularly admires. But his passion for Claire Featherstone, whom he has known since adolescence, is unwavering and true. "She leaned her forehead against my own, for we were of a similar size," Cooper says. "We stood together shivering. I could smell her scent, some attar or fragrant water. Lavender. I held her and it was like falling down a well." Postwar, Cooper cuts a less impressive stride, but his love for and occasional meetings with Claire keep the narrative moving. Frazier's faithful will not be disappointed.
By Edna O'Brien
REVIEWED BY FRANCINE PROSE
NOVEL
The powerful bonds and deep divisions between mothers and daughters form the dark currents beneath The Light of Evening. Seriously ill in Dublin, an old woman longs to see her daughter, a novelist. When the two meet, a moment of forgetfulness and an accidental discovery threaten their uneasy peace. Not much will seem new to O'Brien fans, but they will be delighted to find that she is still writing beautifully about the often painful and startling ways in which women learn about men, about love, about the world—and about themselves.
Nonfiction
John Grisham shares titles of books on real-life dramas that he devoured while crafting his latest; we supply the plotlines.
A Civil Action by Jonathan Harr Harr chronicles the '82 trial in which families of small-town leukemia victims take on corporations for polluting their water with carcinogens.
Blood and Thunder by Hampton Sides Kit Carson is the fulcrum of this grand-scale history of the American West, which examines the brutalizing of the Navajos.
Seaworthy by T.R. Pearson William Willis sails across the Pacific with only a cat and a parrot, and Pearson tells the (true) tale.
In Cold Blood by Truman Capote This classic about the grisly murders of a Kansas family in 1959 has inspired at least three movies.
My Losing Season by Pat Conroy Conroy captures jock culture in his memoir about his 1966-67 stint on The Citadel's basketball squad.
Can a building make you serene? In The Architecture of Happiness, Alain de Botton posits that our moods can take a dive—or soar—in response to our surroundings. He explains:
1. WE'RE DRAWN TO STRUCTURES THE WAY WE FALL IN LOVE WITH PEOPLE We look for something to supply what we don't have enough of or have been denied: In Moscow, the newly rich live in apartments that are all tiger skin and marble and chandeliers.
2. AUTHENTICITY = PLEASURE One of the great aspects of travel is realizing that everything, including road signs and light switches, is different. I get very depressed when I'm forced to stay in a hotel room that could be absolutely anywhere. I've often just huddled in a corner in an armchair and pretended it wasn't happening.
3. FAKERY IS FRIGHTENING A city like Las Vegas is eerie because it doesn't seem to have any local identity. Staying there is like spending time with someone who makes jokes constantly; it's fun for a while but then you find yourself wanting to kill them.
4. BROWSE INTERIOR DECORATING MAGAZINES WITH CARE Photos of someone in a beautiful home are like invitations to a happiness from which you might be barred. You don't remember at that moment that the person is going to die like you are.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
