Betty Feathers (formerly known as Elisabeth Macintosh, and born in Tientsin, China) is a survivor of the Japanese internment camps in Shanghai. She is also a passionate gardener and church flower arranger — the classic tweed-and-pearl British wife of a bygone era. Jane Gardam’s The Man in the Wooden Hat is the engaging story of her 50-year marriage to Edward Feathers and of the mysterious strand of "guilty pearls," as she calls it. Barely an hour after receiving Edward’s written proposal of marriage in Hongkong, she meets Terry Veneering, a married man and Edward’s arch enemy in court. They have a brief affair, with consequences reverberating throughout their lives.

Edward’s side of the story came out in Gardam’s earlier novel Old Filth. The impeccable barrister evolves into the much respected judge Sir Edward Feathers QC, known to friends and foes alike as Filth: Failed In London Try Hongkong. He tried Hongkong and flourished. Edward was brought up by an amah in Borneo and was sent "home" to England when he could hardly speak a word of English. Betty and Edward endured the harshness of their childhood in resolute silence. "She doesn’t speak about it," as Edward would tell their friends about Betty’s time in the internment camp and "one doesn’t intrude." Betty and Edward are "Raj orphans," born in distant colonial outposts — remnants of the once and powerful Empire.

The Man in the Wooden Hat and Old Filth intertwine and enrich each other into a well-worn tapestry of the Feathers’ childhood memories and the effects of time (and will) on their marriage. Both books were written with wit, candor and old world elegance. Gardam is a master of observation, giving the reader such a sense of place with the sultry and humid tropics of Borneo to the dampness and coldness of Wales. She slowly chips away at the polished and very stiff upper lip of her characters, revealing their passions, fears, secrets, and betrayals. Jane Gardam, now 78 years old, twice winner of the Whitbread prize, has not lost her distinct charm and unique voice in captivating her readers. She writes with kindness and intelligence, the passion and durability of romance within marriage and without.

A 2010 Adult Summer Reading Club recommendation

Cristina J. Lozare – Central Library

“War is like a disease. Until you’ve had it, you don’t know it.”

On an overcast August afternoon in Nagasaki, Hiroko Tanaka loses her German fiancé in the flash of the second atomic bomb. Ravaged by the blast, her back engraved with scar like black birds, Hiroko survives. She seeks out her fiancé’s family in India, discovering a whole nation on the brink of independence. With Pakistan’s creation approaching, what will become of Hiroko’s friendship with the colonialist family, the Burtons? And what of her budding relationship with Sajjad, her young, kindhearted Urdu teacher?

Author Kamila Shamsie takes us from Nagasaki to Delhi, Karachi to New York, stopping by the way of Dubai, Islamabad, Kandahar. Hiroko’s story evolves into the tale of her family, trying to hold themselves together over the decades. Over and over again, history shatters what little stability they can find. The Afghan war of the 1980s and 9/11 overwhelm the second half of the book, tying the personal with the political.

Yet, life goes on. Burnt Shadows‘ strengths are not so much in the heart-wrenching tragedies that befall Hiroko and her family, but rather, the lovely moments of peace, the belief in love, and family over all things ideological. Hiroko herself is an emblem of this: literally scarred by war, she still manages to find love in a strange land, and learn new languages, becoming an enigma of identity in a world of conflicting creeds.

The novel is broken up into five sections, oceans and decades apart. Shamsie’s prose flows throughout, keeping a steady pace, but still taking time to detail the minor beauties, the intricate sentiments of these characters. In the relatively tranquil moments of family drama, we grow to love Hiroko’s confidence, and Sajjad’s enthusiasm. Thus, when the burn of history scorches their home life, the pain is visceral. Burnt Shadows is a breathing tale of our times, encapsulating a half-century of conflict as well as the plurality of identities that populate this world of ours.

Khaleel Gheba – Miller Branch

I have this strange affinity for reading about people (usually Americans) who go to another country and live there for a while. These books are so wonderful, because I’m able to settle in that country for a time, without the huge cost of actually moving there myself. By the end of the book, I’ve satisfied my desire to relocate….at least, for another few months.

I saw the book Bar Flower on our "new" shelf, and decided that I needed to live in Japan, if only via the printed page. Lea Jacobson takes us through her failed attempt at teaching English to Japanese children, and reveals her self-destructive past which helped lead her to work in a Japanese hostess bar.

Since I’d never heard of a hostess bar, the concept was fascinating to me. A hostess at one of these bars is a bit like the modern day equivalent of a geisha. She entertains (usually business) men by listening to their complaints and making light conversation. Hostesses are encouraged to sell their customers expensive drinks and food. Sadly, but not surprisingly, they tend to have problems with alcoholism because of the amount of drinking that accompanies their job.

Lea Jacobson gives this topic an interesting touch by enhancing the story with her extensive knowledge of Japanese history. For those who’d like a quick trip to Japan, this is definitely the book for you.

Jennifer Johnson – Glenwood Library

While Max Hastings’ Retribution focuses on Asia and Armageddon on Europe, together these grim but fascinating books examine the last year of World War II.

Both books share a trait typical of many earlier World War II histories, since a fair amount of the material in each comes from the author’s personal interviews with surviving participants. However, at this point, this "typical trait" is actually sort of unique. After all, 1945 is now sixty-three years in the past and interviewees are a dying breed. So it seems very likely that Retribution and Armageddon may be the last major accounts of the Second World War where some portions, at least, are based on the direct verbal accounts of survivors.

Besides good writing there’s something else about Max Hastings’ accounts of the last year of the war that make them special. Historians tend to write what the available sources allow them to write. Since 1945, this means that the scope of most of the English language histories of the events of the 1940s have focused on the experiences of Americans, Englishmen, Germans, and Japanese. These two books signal an enormous change in writing about the war as Hastings expands our perspective to a broader view.

There are plenty of pages in both volumes that focus on Americans and the other "usual suspects." However, while Retribution does not slight the Pacific battles fought between the Americans and the Japanese, what makes it particularly interesting are the accounts of the campaigns on the mainland of Asia and the involvement of Indians, Chinese and, even Africans. The depressing tale of Australia and its army in the last year of the war, as well as the pages devoted to the Russian invasion of Manchuria, provide some absorbing reading. Armageddon gives good coverage of the fighting on the Western Front while also informing the reader about people and events in Eastern Europe.

After more than half a century of books on the Second World War, it’s got to be hard for an author to come up with a history that covers the war in a new and different way. With Retribution and Armageddon, Max Hastings has come up with two of them.

Joe McHugh – Administration Office

The Commoner by John Burnham Schwartz, author of Reservation Road, takes the reader back to post-World War II Japan. Haruko, only child of a prosperous sake distributor, is an excellent student at a local, all-girls Catholic school. She is also a strong tennis player and, on the court the summer after high school graduation, she meets and beats the Crown Prince of Japan. After a variety of encounters at tennis matches and social occasions, he begins to court her. With her parents’ reluctant assent the daily phone calls lead to an engagement, marriage, and her confinement in the Japanese Royal Family. Schwartz, in a poetic style, describes how this commoner beats her wings against the cage of tradition, enduring the disapproval of the Empress and the ladies-in-waiting. Her husband is supportive up to a point, but after the birth of their son, Haruko ends up in a voiceless depression. Along with her recovery comes an acceptance, albeit not a peaceful one. Then the story forwards to her son’s love of a young woman and what the now-Empress Haruko does to assist another commoner.

With few words Schwartz draws pictures of cherry blossoms, rigid court schedules and the subtle love in an almost-arranged marriage. I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in Japan. This would be a fascinating book club selection.

Susan Stonesifer – Miller Branch