Book Report: Before the Fall

13. Noah Hawley, Before the Fall (2016) (6/30/22)

I've hit the ground running work-wise (two proofreads, a big long edit), which means I'm in the mood for pure schlock when it comes to reading material. I don't remember where I ran across this book—someone on FB mentioned enjoying a more recent book of Hawley's, I think, and I thought I'd give him a try but start with a paperback? Maybe. And this one gets all the good buzz: "Mesmerizing . . . one of the year's best suspense novels" (Janet Maslin, NYT); "an astonishing, character-driven tour de force" (Karin Slaughter); "I was spellbound from first page to last" (Pulitzer Prize–winning Michael Cunningham).

And yeah, okay, I was pretty captivated. It was a good suspense novel. I enjoyed the characters, and Hawley's treatment of them. Maybe it's just hard for me to use such superlatives when it comes to a thriller. But yes, I enjoyed this book.

It's the story of a small-plane crash, eleven people on board: pilot and co-pilot, flight attendant; the plane's owner, head of a FOX News sort of media enterprise, and his wife and two children; a friend of his, a money mover (not necessarily legitimately), and his wife; and a somewhat random artist, a farmers-market acquaintance of the media guy's wife on Martha's Vineyard, where the flight originates, en route on a would-be quick hop to greater New York.

The artist and the four-year-old son of the media mogul are the only survivors, thanks to Jack LaLanne—thanks, that is, to the artist, Scott, having watched as a boy as the 1960s fitness guru LaLanne swam from Alcatraz Island in San Francisco Bay to Aquatic Park with hands bound and towing a two-ton boat. This detail is probably not something that most readers care much about, but I grew up with a mother who regularly visited the Jack LaLanne gym in Santa Monica, getting her laps in, and seeing him in black-and-white on TV in his jumpsuit, so . . . I am a little fascinated by his inclusion in this narrative. That incident inspired Scott to become a really good swimmer, which in turn allowed him to swim many miles in the dark towing a small child and wind up alive on a beach on Long Island. 

The book goes on to present the real-time story of the investigation and media hoopla following the crash, and alternatingly to give us the backstory of every victim of the crash—presenting clues, as it were, as to what actually happened. Was the crash pilot error? mechanical failure? sabotage aimed at the money guy? revenge against the media mogul? Something else? We also are along as Scott keeps tabs on his rescuee, and comes to know the boy's aunt and her not-especially-tolerable husband. 

It is a story of life and motivation, of an effort to understand, of questioning and finding answers.

The ultimate solution to the puzzle of What Happened was a bit anticlimactic, but in the end, only a few solutions could have worked, and any of them would probably have felt a little flat, a little pat. What I especially enjoyed was Scott and seeing how he navigated his journey. 

I flagged a few passages (the writing is really good). Here's one, the start of a chapter about a wealthy heiress, Layla, who takes Scott in for a while—for her own reasons, which have nothing to do with fame and fortune.

The things money can't buy, goes the famous quote, you don't want anyway. Which is bullshit, because in truth there is nothing money can't buy. Not really. Love, happiness, peace of mind. It's all available for a price. The fact is, there's enough money on earth to make everyone whole, if we could just learn to do what any toddler knows—share. But money, like gravity, is a force that clumps, drawing in more and more of itself, eventually creating the black hole that we know as wealth. This is not simply the fault of humans. Ask any dollar bill and it will tell you it prefers the company of hundreds to the company of ones. Better to be a sawbuck in a billionaire's account than a dirty single in the torn pocket of an addict.

I will probably read Hawley again, if I remember to look for him. 

Book Report: The Galápagos

12. Henry Nicholls, The Galápagos: A Natural History (2014)

I started reading this book on board the Samba as we spent two weeks sailing among the various islands of the Galápagos: Genovesa, Marchena, Isabela, Fernandina, Floreana, Santa Cruz, Floreana again, Española, San Cristóbal, Santa Fé, Bartolomé, Santiago, Rábida, and North Seymour. It was an amazing trip, and photos will follow (assuming I can schedule in the curating time: it's up to me!). Our capitán and guide, Juan Salcedo, was a font of knowledge and information, so I ended up relying mainly on his drawn-in-the-sand mini-lectures about all things evolution, Darwin, extinction, speciation, vulcanism, predation, island biogeography, birth and death—and so much more. Still, it was good to turn to this book again on my return home, and see many of the topics Juan had covered, all of which I could now put into context. I was there! I saw these things! 

The ten chapters cover, in order, rocks (vulcanism and plate tectonics), ocean (including the currents, Cromwell, Humboldt, and Panama, that define the hot-wet and cooler-drier seasons), seabirds (frigatebirds, tropicbirds, and boobies, among others), plants (think desert islands: plenty of prickly pear, for starters), invertebrates (land snails and butterflies), land birds (mockingbirds and finches), reptiles (iguanas land and marine, not to mention giant tortoises), and humans, parts I, II, and III.

Here's a brief excerpt from the prologue:

The landscape is both hostile and beautiful; the wildlife is sparse yet striking. Scientists have documented just over 4,000 species native to the Galápagos, around 40 percent of them endemic, found here and only here. It's not just this 40 percent, these 1,600 species, that owe their existence to the Galápagos. There are now around 30,000 people living in this far-flung constellation of islands whose livelihoods depend—either directly or indirectly—on the integrity of the ecosystem and the tourism-based economy it fuels.
     More widely, Ecuador cares deeply about this otherworldly territory it acquired in 1832. For its small size (occupying less than 2 percent of South America), Ecuador has an impressive range of habitats, making it one of the most biodiverse countries in the world (thought, for instance, to be home to almost half of all the bird species on the continent). Yet when it comes to international tourism, these other offerings just can't compete with the pulling power of the Galápagos. For many travellers, it's the sole reason for paying Ecuador a visit at all.

I've been to Ecuador twice now. The first time was for the birds, and that trip sent me east, into the Amazon basin. I am very glad now to have gotten a look at this distinctly different, and oh so special, landscape to the west. And thanks to Darwin, one might say, it's getting at least much of the protection it needs....