1. My Latest Grievance, by Elinor Lipman. Charming, light, fun read. I'm a big fan of Elinor Lipman. This one may not be her best (although it's good) but it's light-years ahead of most of the dreck that passes for "women's fiction" nowadays.
2. The End of Iraq, by Peter W. Galbraith. Blistering critique of US performance in the invasion of Iraq. Doesn't revisit the question of whether we were justified in invading (although the chilling discussions of Hussein's human rights violations indicate the author believes there was at least a case for invading) but focuses instead on how lack of preparation and willful ignorance has created the on-going mess over there. It's a shame Dubya doesn't read it. Oh yeah, he, uh, takes the entire month of August off. Well, hey, it's not like he's got an important job, right?
3. The Lost Painting, by Jonathan Harr. Art history meets detective story in this quick-reading nonfiction book about the search for a lost Caravaggio masterpiece. Enjoyable. Recommended by my pal Pat, who liked it so much, that when she lost her copy on vacation, she bought the book-on-tape to listen to in the car so she could find out how it ended.
4. Blood from a Stone, by Donna Leon. The latest installment in the Guido Brunetti mystery series, which takes place in Venice. Literate mysteries set against a gorgeous and complex backdrop.
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I read the Lost Painting recently and found it quite enjoyable too. My favorite thing about the book is that it makes clear the very unglamorous work that solving these mysteries entail: sifting through some family's personal papers and archives, all incredible persistence and absolute curiosity.
dubya can't read.
perhaps karl or dick (heh heh heh, I said dick) or rummy can read it to him for a bedtime story.
anne marie in philly
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