cahn | Entries tagged with books:2026

idek, I am continuing to fall so hard for the musical of Operation Mincemeat in a way that I sometimes do with theater-plus-music but haven't done for a while (I think the last time I got so fannish about something like this was Don Carlo(s) but for completely different reasons; hey, I can't really predict these things). There are clearly a lot of reasons (okay so yeah the whole hot-charismatic-women-in-suits thing is definitely still a thing), but one of them has to do with the tension between what is actually happening in the musical (a comedy/farce but with a lot of strong feelings bubbling under the surface) and what is happening on a meta level, as it's the kind of musical that cheerfully plays with semi-breaking the fourth wall whenever it feels like it, and the very nature of the way all five actors have to continually interlock and sing together in different combinations and switch from being in conflict to being in sync or vice versa gives a very strong meta vibe of teamwork/found-family.

Operation Mincemeat (Macintyre) -- so I read it! about the actual historical operation using a corpse with faked invasion plans to fool the Nazis, and it was very good and I don't feel like writing it up properly, so, here, instead, have a few totally random things that may or may not make sense:

- the part that I found most compelling was the bit about Baron Alexis von Roenne, whom I had never heard of before but who was Hitler's favorite intelligence analyst and who seems to have been quite intelligent and cautious, and also who wrote a report basically saying, "welp, so, these random invasion plans, found by our not-known-for-detail-or-for-incorruption guys, and which additionally haven't really been examined at all for, say, any kind of counter-espionage tells, contain information that is CLEARLY ALL TOTALLY TRUE." It turns out that he actually had become anti-Nazi and by 1943 "was deliberately passing information he knew to be false, directly to Hitler's desk," and although von Roenne (understandably) did not leave any actual documentation, Macintyre thinks it is very very possible that von Roenne did not believe a word of the Mincemeat faked papers... but... figured he might as well help out the British in their far-fetched plot. As far as I can tell from Macintyre, Hitler did not actually find out about the part where he was passing false information, but he was friends with the guy who tried to assassinate Hitler in July 1944, which unfortunately was enough reason for him to be executed horribly in October of that year. :(

- Macintyre mentioned that in the documentation, Glyndwr Michael, the man whose body lent itself to the Mincemeat deception of the "man who never was," ("Bill Martin") was considered a suicide by rat poison, but Macintyre postulated that it was just as possible that it was an accident, e.g. if Michael had gotten hungry enough to eat poison-laced bait. And I rather appreciate -- which I am sure is 100% intentional -- that the musical lyrics say "This homeless chap in Croydon / Accidentally ate rat poison."

- I found it absolutely hilarious that the musical scene switching between Ewen Montagu and Charles Cholmondeley partying and the seriousness of the submarine going to Spain to release the body is actually something Macintyre spells out! (They did not do a bar crawl as in the musical, but rather attended the theatre with the tickets used to flesh out Bill's cover story, with dates, one of which was Jean Leslie.) No wonder they wanted to make a musical of this!

Finding Hester (Edwards) -- I also read this, on the recommendation of

troisoiseaux and

nnozomi. This was just really sweet! And I super appreciated reading it after the Macintyre. It's a love letter to the power of internet fan groups who can Find Things Out -- here, they tracked down Hester Leggatt (who was first erroneously called Hester Leggett), the MI5 secretary who wrote Bill's love letters, and found out who she was and a lot of cool things about her life, including that she was not the embittered spinster that Macintyre portrays her as, nor the long-bereaved-fiancee that you might think from watching the musical, but someone who had a rich social life and a long-term lover (who was married, and it sounds like they may have eventually separated because he wouldn't divorce his wife). And who wrote a lot of letters! <3 It's a great counterpoint to Macintyre's book and a good reminder that people, in general, are more lovely and complicated and multi-faceted than they look, and than they might come across in a cursory first glance at their life.

I had to laugh at this bit near the end of the book:

The story of Operation Mincemeat seems to be cursed to carry with it inaccuracies and mistakes in books, articles, documentaries and any other form of media that features it. It even continues into media about the musical now, with articles continually getting things wrong regarding the writers, the actors or the show itself. Perhaps it is simply a matter of us now knowing far too much about the musical and having accidentally become Hester Leggatt experts, and the errors on these subjects specifically stick out to us. Maybe every book and article out there is wrong at least once, and we just don't have the knowledge to pick up on it.

I am here to tell you courtesy of salon, or at least

selenak and

mildred_of_midgard are here to tell you, that last sentence is true!

On the musical itself: I have been listening to the soundtrack somewhat nonstop in the car, and this means my poor A. has also been listening to it somewhat nonstop. He is not particularly a fan of the musical, but now he recognizes a lot of the lines... Anyway, so, this happened:

There's a song, "Making a Man," where the MI5 team is talking about constructing and describing the persona of the fictitious-man-behind-the-corpse who will be used in Operation Mincemeat. The first time it came on in the car when A. was there, he had his own thoughts on it:

Montagu: A mind that is stronger than iron
A: Alan Turing!
Montagu: That shines like a light in the dark
A: Yep!
Montagu: And a body that could wrestle a lion
A: ...never mind.

Hey so remember I talked about Lyssa Fairbanks' first book, Love Medley, about med school romance hijinks? Her second book is now out: Love Dramedy. Signed hard copy available here (immediately) and ebook available here (pre-orders will be delivered March 5).

Love Dramedy is about the same group of med school friends as Love Medley and is F/F and I love it a lot.

Isabelle Sutton has always been "the pretty one" and always feels like she needs to prove that she's good enough for med school, which is getting harder as she has not been doing well on her med school exams -- and she needs a project to help her show that she's a good residency candidate. Trix Winstead is a neurodiverse software CEO who is just coming off of a friends-with-benefits relationship that imploded spectacularly, leaving behind a scandal for her company -- and needs a project to help her rehabilitate her company's reputation. You'll never guess what happens next! (You have guessed. Yes. Well, you might not have guessed about the hot lesbian bar encounter/one-night stand that happens first, but there's that too, it's great!)

I love Trix's spectrum-ish self, and Isabelle is a sweetheart. And I really like about Lyssa's writing how it's not just about the romance, but also about the friends and the story.

As for Love Medley, I was one of the major betas for this book. And also as for that one, please don't talk publicly about Lyssa's real name or how I know her :)

thistleingrey mentioned that it was a solid depiction of academia and characters in academia, which immediately piqued my interest. I have read Ali Hazelwood's The Love Hypothesis and enjoyed it, and I know Hazelwood is in academia, but I sometimes thought... well, let's just say that it's a romance between a grad student and the young hotshot professor in her department, and... okay... that part... is totally realistic actually... but I feel like I kind of got stuck a lot in all my feelings about the potential deep pitfalls. Hypothesis was also, I think, much more concerned with primarily being a romance novel and secondarily a novel about academia.

Anyway, this is unabashedly a romance novel, complete with marriage-of-convenience and sometimes even the one-bed trope, but without any particular kinks like professor/student :P But the thing that makes it interesting (to me) is that it's at least as interested in both the experiences of the precariat (*) and also familial relationships as it is in the romance itself. In fact, it does not have a conventional romantic Act 3; here the Act 3, as well as the understandable but frustrating misunderstandings that prolong it, is passed squarely on to the familial relationships rather than the romantic ones. Which I personally really like!

The two main characters, Jonah and Sadie, are adorably academics. (**) I laughed out loud when Jonah said, "I'm all for radically revised gender roles in the heteronormative institution of marriage, but I should still pay for my wife's engagement ring," if only because I've never heard anyone else talk that way in a romance novel -- though if you have, please rec it to me. (Their engagement is the aforementioned engagement-of-convenience and the ring is $27.99, I hasten to append, and she pays for his ring.) (lol, I think I actually paid for my engagement ring, because it was an important transaction involving me and an important piece of jewelry -- what?)

Anyway, I rarely like romance novels, but I liked this one!

(*) I did not know the term precariat: the precarious proletariat, that insecure class of unstable work and low wages -- but I was familiar at least by reputation with the academic pre-tenure-track life that the term describes, in the sense that it is one of the many reasons why I did not pursue academia

(**) Jonah likes using footnotes; I guess your mileage may vary but I found it adorable, perhaps inevitably

okay, I was not expecting to have quite SO MANY feelings about Operation Mincemeat, the musical, but indeed I do. (I have listened to the cast recording about seventy times and have not been able to see it live, though I, uh. Have now seen it, see end of post.) I don't think I have had so many strong feelings about a musical since Hamilton, only in many ways they are wildly different feelings?? Hamilton is a fancy big-chorus-dancing musical that is concerned predominantly with valorizing a particular hero (Alexander Hamilton) in a eh-mostly-historical way while offering up somewhat revisionist-considerations of some of the other US's famous Founding Fathers, with a major thematic concern of race, but which adheres to pretty standard gender considerations. OM is a budget-vibe musical starring five people who are both the big parts and the chorus, that is concerned predominantly with both rather revisionist-considerations, in a mostly-historical-fiction way, of a particular type of hero (a heavily fictionalized Ewen Montagu) who is known for his part in the WWII shenanigans of Operation Mincemeat, while at the same time offering up larger parts to people who were not at all famous, with a major thematic concern of gender.

( Starting with: There are FIVE people in the cast! )

This book, via

selenak, was just very relevant to my interests and I adored it so much! It's one of those books that I didn't really want to end. It's a retelling of the Aeneid from the point of view of the Sybil, with nods towards making it Bronze-Age historically plausible.

Gull begins her life as the daughter of a slave in Pylos, and is apprenticed to the Pythia, the oracle of the Lady of the Dead, becoming Pythia herself when the current Pythia dies. After Troy (here called Wilusa) is sacked for the second time, the black ships of the Wilusan prince Aeneas and the remnants of his people land in Pylos to try to capture back some of their people who had been slaves (including Gull's mother, though by that time she has died). When they depart, Gull/Pythia goes with them as their Sybil on their sea adventures as the People search for a home...

I just really loved so many things about this, starting with that retellings of epic poems are always my jam. I loved Gull/Pythia and the way in which centering her and her experiences centers the lived experience of the women of Wilusa. I loved the way that Aeneas and the Wilusans are portrayed as refugees, because that's what they are. I loved that the gods, while they do appear on the edges, are mysterious beings that may be real and may be wholly belief; and that they aren't toddler-level petty and vindictive like in the Aeneid. I loved how Pythia and Xandros had that sort of fealty-love thing going with Aeneas, uh, not that this is a hardcore thing I love or anything.

Of course I was very curious about how Dido would be portrayed, even without knowing (as Graham says in her afterword) that Carthage didn't... actually... exist during this time period, so that Aeneas & Dido would have to at the very least be revamped. ( Mild thematic spoilers. )

One of the things that's really interesting here is the through-line of how the world is getting worse, piracy is getting worse, civilization is crumbling. Gull/Pythia can see that all of this is getting worse during her journeys with the black ships, and has gotten worse since the previous Pythia's days. And yet, as the reader knows, and as Pythia comes to dimly see, the arc of civilization since that time will curve upwards, and Aeneas will be part of that. (And I find this a somewhat comforting thought in some ways...)

I'm rather impressed that this was Graham's first book, which I had no idea about until I finished and went looking for more books by her! Occasionally there may have been a tiny bit of unevenness, but it just manages to weave together so many things in a way that I admired so much, and I thought it was extremely strong, much less as a debut! Sooooo now I'm gonna reread Judith Tarr's Lord of the Two Lands to get myself in a proper Alexander mood, and then I shall go on to read Graham's Stealing Fire :D

Via

selenak <3 This book is a novelistic look primarily at the women (specifically the wives and lovers) associated with the most famous Romantic poets (Byron, Shelley, Keats). It is well-written and compelling, extremely relevant to my interests, and also part #12345 or so of an ongoing series of "Reasons why I, especially as a woman, am glad I did not live hundreds of years ago" (which... I guess... is probably a good thing for me to keep in mind, these days...) and, as sort of a corollary to that, an implicit stirring polemic in favor of no-fault divorce and antibiotics. (Neither of which existed at the time, of course, but gosh, no-fault divorce and antibiotics would have made SO many people's lives so much better in this book!) Also against bloodletting :PP

Our best-beloved high school Brit Lit teacher, Dr. M, told us all kinds of stories about these people. He was, I think, a proponent of the "teach the kids literature and literary history through sensationalistic gossip" mode that I found in salon many years later -- and it works! Even decades after Dr. M's class, I came in knowing enough that the names and many of the love-affairs (especially the most sensationalistic ones) were familiar, though of course I didn't know very many details. Even (especially?) Byron; though we never read any Byron in class, he was certainly a very sensational figure. (I think Dr. M's plan was that we would go off and read Byron on our own -- the same way that he announced, when we did the Canterbury Tales, that he was forbidden to teach us "The Miller's Tale" because of it being too R-rated, and we all promptly hared off and read it outside of class -- although I found Byron enough not to my taste that I never read very much of him even with that.)

What I was struck by most about this book was just how trapped the women are by... everything, by societal expectations, societal disapproval, family situations, the constant spectre of sickness and death; all the women were more-or-less (sometimes less) sympathetic but were placed in situations where they were either miserable or making other people miserable or both. (I can't quite say that about the men -- there were a couple of men that were not very sympathetic -- but at the same time you could see them all being trapped too.) But I didn't get the impression that the author was trying to make a point about that in particular, or at least not any more than any other point; I think this was just how it was.

A few notes about some of the women POV characters:

Augusta Byron (Leigh) - I knew enough to draw in a breath when her half-brother George was mentioned, even before the reveal of her last name :P Anyway, she is awesome, my favorite -- a truly nice character but never boring, and you can see why she and Byron got along so well; their bantering conversations in the book are really some of my favorite bits. Definitely one of the characters where I was Put Out that her life was as miserable as it was :P Lord Byron himself was charming and dark and you could both see why everyone fell in love with him and also that it must have been awful to have been his wife or lover (though in Augusta's case, mostly because of the societal issues).

Mary (Godwin/Wollstonecraft) Shelley - Intellectual and intense, the Mary POV sections were perhaps the most compelling for me, and also could be frustrating, in the way that when you empathize with a character, you don't want the character to do the stupid things that you know you would do (or maybe actually did as a young person) in her place :P I felt like she had a lot of extremely understandable strong feelings! And often you could see how the strong feelings were acting against her best interests! Percy Bysshe Shelley, on the other hand, was... well... there's an xkcd about guys like him :P I also really enjoyed her scenes with Byron, of all people -- very platonic, no attraction, and that's actually very refreshing, to me as well as to the characters.

Caroline Lamb - these were my least favorite sections. I remembered from Dr. M that she had some struggles with mental illness, and Morgan makes her manic behavior quite as sympathetic as possible -- but it still wasn't all that fun to read for me. William Lamb was less of a presence in the book but seemed, well, passive and patriarchical but mostly pretty reasonable, especially in comparison to Byron and Shelley. Not that this is saying a whole lot!

Annabella Millbank (Byron) - Byron's long-suffering wife. Annabella is clearly -- in fact textually -- even less of a reliable narrator than the others. I found the style of her sections really interesting -- they're distant and mannered and very distinct from the other characters' POV, and really point up how she fabricates her own story that may or may not (often does not) match up to reality, but certainly matches up to her own interests. And at the same time Byron was just terrible to her! But one can see how she is almost optimally ill-suited to him!

selenak told me about how she was absolutely horrible to their daughter, Ada Lovelace, and that is certainly consistent with the way her character is delineated here.

Fanny Brawne - I think part of why Fanny was here was just as a contrast to the other characters. (Keats doesn't interact particularly strongly with Byron and Shelley.) She seems to be the only one, out of all of them, whose issues don't arise out of an intensely conflicted adolescence, whether it was because of her circumstances (Mary -- I haven't mentioned her father, William Godwin, but he was a piece of work in the novel, one of those guys who can totally twist everything to "rationally" argue how it benefits him; the type is familiar) or because of her personality (Caroline). She is the only one where it seems like she actually maybe had fun. (Well, Augusta may have had fun in her childhood -- but the way the chapters are laid out, the awful parts of her life get a lot more documentation.) Of course one knows it all has to go wrong, because Keats and Brawne, but after reading about everyone else it's almost a relief to just be dealing with death instead of death plus a whole ton of dysfunction. (Of course, there are hints that if he had lived, perhaps this love story too would also have devolved into dysfunction. But maybe it wouldn't have. For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!)

But, in conclusion: no-fault divorce for Harriet Shelley and Annabella Byron, please and thank you, and hey, I'll take it for Mary Shelley too, and alllllll the antibiotics and NO bloodletting for not just Keats and Byron but also all the babies and small children who died in this book >:(

Also, I did a little reading about the next generation and they all seem rather interesting too; I want the sequel :PP