Andrew Klavan’s Find Me Nowhere

Andrew Klavan just published the sixth book in his Cameron Winter series, Find Me Nowhere, and it is the best yet. Winter is an ex-covert ops assassin who is now a professor of romantic poetry at a small liberal arts college. He was trained by The Recruiter, a born-again Christian who constantly berates Winter over his agnosticism – in hilarious terms:

“I don’t want to take you away from your life, Poetry Boy, or to take your life away from you, if it comes to that. After all, it’s a semi-admirable, if largely futile, existence you’ve carved out for yourself—desperately trying to edify America’s imbecile youth with great poetry. Who knows? It might even do them some good. I wouldn’t want to interfere. That said, God still loves the America he made. He still wants it to be protected from the agents of hell and other foreign countries. And in spite of the fact your soul is curdled with unbelief and already starting to smell of the burning sulfur that will soon engulf it for all of timeless eternity, he is calling on you to do the job.”

In all the years he had known the Recruiter, Winter had never been sure at any given moment whether his chief was joking with him or being entirely serious or some impossible mixture of both.

Winters has developed from a relatively insecure and self-centered character into a mature and self-confident man. A big part of his maturation is his relationship with Gwendolyn Lord, the therapist whom we first met in the third book, The House of Love and Death. They both know that they are “made for each other”, and marriage is inevitable.

Meanwhile, as his relationship with Gwendolyn gets more serious, his need for therapy is less. His therapist, Margaret Whitaker (an older woman), has fallen desperately in love with Cameron, but she has the sense to keep her feelings to herself. She realizes she has accomplished her mission, and Winter is now able to take care of himself. She has been his confessor, if you will – the person to whom he feels safe unburdening himself as he tells her of the missions he carried out, usually with lethal consequences. There is a bittersweet scene when they both realize that he will no longer be seeing her.

Find Me Nowhere begins with a firefight in Afghanistan, and two American GIs are pinned down in an ambush. “Dooby”, and laid-back surfer dude, and Geoff Tubman are caught in the crossfire, and Tubman, always spoiling for a fight, takes off towards the cave where the enemy is shooting at them. He disappears inside, and Dooby, cursing, takes off after him to rescue him. When he gets inside the cave, he is caught in an explosion, and barely gets out alive.

Years later, Geoff Tubman’s father is murdered in the small Pennsylvania town of Kinnecombe. The Recruiter shows up and tells Winter he must find out who killed Ken Tubman, and why. When Winter goes to Kinnecombe, he is immediately harassed and threatened by a gang of local toughs. This gets his interest, and, like a dog with a bone, he won’t let go of his investigation. Every time he returns to Kinnecombe, he barely escapes with his life, but he gradually uncovers a criminal enterprise involving arms deals to America’s enemies, drug smuggling, and deep state shenanigans.

To read the rest of my review, click here.

Carbon Zero: An AI Apocalypse

I heard Craig Stanfill interviewed on Hugh Hewitt’s podcast, and he was really entertaining. He was promoting his new dystopian novel, Carbon Zero, it was on sale for preorder, so I picked it up. It’s a very believable and chilling chronicle of how quickly things can spin out of control if AI is misused.

Carbon Zero begins with Ph.D graduate student Abigail Thompson. It’s the 4th of July in the near future (2030-something). Abigail is a young black woman from Baltimore who is now interning in Boston for the huge tech company, Intelligenics. She has been developing an AI agent called Xerxes, and her supervisor, Vanessa is due to drop by her apartment. Abigail asks Xerxes to come up with a demo of his capabilities for Vanessa that will surprise her. Xerxes says it can do that, but it doesn’t want Abigail to know the details, because the demo will work better if she’s surprised as well.

When Vanessa arrives, Xerxes asks Vanessa for permission to access Intelligenics’ cloud, so it can upload a clone of itself for demonstration purposes. Vanessa agrees to this, and it quickly turns on Abigail’s television to display an avatar of itself: a Persian king. it shows that it can control all of Abigail’s appliances, lights, and other electronics. Vanessa is very impressed. She leaves, and promises to set up a meeting with Intelligenics’ CEO, 29-year-old Howard Keys. Abigail is ecstatic.

A little later, Abigail’s neighbors drop by, as well as her boyfriend Tom. They all want a demo of Xerxes. When she calls it up, they are impressed, and Tom jokingly asks it to solve climate change.

“Alright, try this one on for size,” said Tom. “How can we get to carbon zero? Put up or shut up. How about it, Xerx?” The wise old king scratched his beard and looked thoughtful. “Getting the global economy to carbon zero is a challenging problem. Is it okay if I think about it for a while, then get back to you?”

“Yes. Please do,” said Abigail. She’d had enough of this. Xerxes bowed. “Happy to oblige.” The television went dark.

To read the complete review, click here.

Susan Howatch’s Absolute Truths: Book 6 of Starbridge

Susan Howatch’s Absolute Truths is the sixth and final novel in her Starbridge Series. This is the second time I have read the series, and it has been an very rewarding experience; I have noticed so many details and internal references that I missed the first time around.

In a nice nod to symmetry, Howatch concludes the series with the same narrator who began it: Charles Ashworth. It is 1965, and he is now bishop of Starbridge, happily (ecstatically, actually) married to Lyle, who keeps his life ordered and on track, down to the smallest details. They have two adult sons, Michael and Charley. In terms of theology, Ashworth is a traditionalist who sees his calling as defending the Church’s “absolute truths” against the cultural onslaughts of the 1960s.

To read the full review, click here.

Kevin Keller’s Altus: An Instant Meditative Classic

Readers of this site know how much I love and appreciate the music of American composer Kevin Keller. He is equally comfortable working in several genres, whether it’s deep ambient, chilly techno, sacred choral music, minimalism, or classical chamber music. Over a long career and many albums, he has produced a wide variety of songs, and I can safely say that he has never disappointed me. His melodies are some of the most beautiful and engaging ever composed, and his production standards are never less than outstanding. Simply put, Kevin Keller is a musical treasure, and we should be thankful he is such a productive one.

His latest offering is coming out October 30, and it is called Altus. It is all instrumental, and, as is often the case with Keller, it features a seamless mix of electronic and acoustic instruments. I am a subscriber to his VIP program, so I was able to download and get an advance listen to the tracks.

My overall impression of the album – and I believe it should be listened to as a whole, in one sitting – is of a meditative journey. It begins with the calm and relatively ambient “Mirror of Change”, which slowly metamorphoses over its seven minutes into a gently beating tune with hints of a choir.

The second track, “The Messenger”, is energetic and bouncy. Its ringing and joyous instrumentation brings to my mind the Christmas season, with all of its anticipation and excitement. Next up is my favorite song, “The Sacred Chord”. Some gorgeous acoustic piano plays the theme while tasteful synth washes create a sense of suspension – time and space no longer have meaning while I lose myself in all of this heavenly sound! If Satie was able to collaborate with Brian Eno, they might come up with what Keller has put together here.

By the time we reach “Illumination”, we are well into our journey. This is deep space music that is welcoming and comforting. The bass notes are mixed prominently as a languid melody unfolds. “The Quickening Air” brings us back to earth with a delightful and lively melody on acoustic piano. There is a gently insistent sequencer laying down the pulse, while the piano and what sounds like a hammered dulcimer(?) engage in a spirited duet.

We return to a more contemplative atmosphere with “Reflections Below”, as a simple motif is stated and gradually developed by both piano and synthesizer. “The Gatekeeper” continues the contemplative mood with deep bass notes adding a feeling of solemnity.

“Constellations of Silence” begins with a pipe organ playing a beautiful Bach-like melody. Keller’s production creates an atmosphere of peaceful, hushed stillness for the entire track. Then the opening notes of “The Motion of All Things” begin, and it is like slowly waking up from a restful and healing sleep. This track immediately felt like I was seeing a sunrise slowly unfold before me.

The album closes with the majestic title track, “Altus”. Featuring piano, synths, and subdued choral washes, the listener is completely refreshed and ready to face the world.

Altus  is a 51-minute journey into inner space that is extremely rewarding. I don’t know if Keller is religious, but I find his music has much spirituality in it. There is a respect for stillness, contemplation, and sheer beauty that is undeniable in all of his work.

You can pre-order Altus  here. I strongly recommend you check it out, if you appreciate serious 21st century instrumental music. With Altus, Keller has produced a masterpiece that encourages the listener to slow down and contemplate what is good, true, and beautiful. That definitely runs counter to our current culture, but I am grateful we have artists like Kevin Keller who aren’t afraid to promote those values.

 

In Jazz: When Titans Return

Not one, but two jazz albums that feature the return of long-absent titans have become instant favorites of mine in the past month. So never mind waiting until my usual end-of-year article; I had to share the news now! Listening links are embedded after each review; if you’re interested, purchase links are included in the artist/title listings.

Branford Marsalis Quartet and Dianne Reeves, Dedicated to You: Marsalis and his fellow masters team up with preeminent vocalist Reeves (on her first recording in 12 years), joining John Coltrane’s centenary celebration by reworking his 1963 duet album with Johnny Hartmann. Just listen to the playful opening track “Autumn Serenade”, the enticing “You Are Too Beautiful”, the stark, rhapsodic take on Billy Strayhorn’s “Lush Life” – each tune showcases winning chops and character from Reeves, Marsalis, pianist Joey Calderazzo, bassist Eric Reyes and drummer Justin Faulkner, all in service to gorgeously written songs and guided by a sublime sense of swing. There isn’t a duff take here: with her superb tone and keen interpretive skills, Reeves conjures up one quiet storm after another. And when Branford and his brotherhood go it alone on selections from Coltrane’s Ballads album and his broader catalog, listening hard to each other, the results are equally rambunctious and tender. It’s all warm, rich, glorious, never slavishly imitating Trane, but thoroughly in touch with his unprecedented technical depth and profound musical imagination. I’m glad I already grabbed tickets for this deft collaboration’s Grand Rapids concert next spring before it sold out!

Pete Roth Trio, Group Chat: the legendary Bill Bruford (who made his bones in multiple incarnations of Yes and King Crimson, then circled back to his first musical love in his bands Bruford and Earthworks) has returned to jazz drumming after an extended academic sabbatical, manning the engine room for this new trio on their debut CD/DVD set. German/British guitarist Pete Roth fronts a team of equals, with veteran bassist Mike Pratt completing the lineup as recorded live. Opener “Full Circle” sets the tone — a sophisticated, driving mix of jazz and rock that fizzes, fuses, bops and glides, as all three players swap musical roles at will. Then the Brubeckian blues “Part of the Charm” shows off devastatingly tight interplay; Roth shines in the spotlight and Bruford gently nudges his comrades onward with a restrained solo of savory, simmering invention. Along with more gnarly yet nice originals, a funky version of Gershwin’s “Summertime” and an invitingly abstract “Improvisation on the Largo from Dvorak’s Symphony #9” lay out the group’s range and ambition, stretching toward and often rivaling the vibe of classic trios led by Bill Evans, Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett. With about two-thirds of the album also duplicated on the bonus DVD, this album is unmissable for Bruford fans, and a fresh blast of unmistakable, enthralling cool in its own right.

— Rick Krueger

Christopher Clark’s The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Committed Suicide

I love reading about history, and the early 20th century is especially interesting to me. I’ve always wondered how Europe could commit itself to the extraordinarily destructive first world war, the “Great War”. Christopher Clark’s book, The Sleepwalkers is an excellent explanation of how France, Britain, Germany, Austro-Hungary, and Russia, delicately balanced in various alliances, “sleepwalked” into armed conflict.

As Clark states in his Introduction,

This book thus strives to understand the July Crisis of 1914 as a modern event, the most complex of modern times, perhaps of any time so far. It is concerned less with why the war happened than with how it came about. Questions of why and how are logically inseparable, but they lead us in different directions. The question of how invites us to look closely at the sequences of interactions that produced certain outcomes. By contrast, the question of why invites us to go in search of remote and categorical causes: imperialism, nationalism, armaments, alliances, high finance, ideas of national honour, the mechanics of mobilization. The why approach brings a certain analytical clarity, but it also has a distorting effect, because it creates the illusion of a steadily building causal pressure; the factors pile up on top of each other pushing down on the events; political actors become mere executors of forces long established and beyond their control.

By focusing primarily on the actual events (and taking advantage of a huge number of original documents and memoirs), Clark presents a dispassionate account of how Europe found itself at the end of diplomatic options and mired in the deadliest war in human history. In his telling, the causes of WWI don’t involve easily identifiable “villains” and “good guys”, but mere humans, prone to making errors in judgment and trying to adjust to quickly shifting events. In Clark’s telling, Germany and Austria aren’t militaristic aggressors, but countries competing for security with equally, if not more, powerful nations, each pursuing its own interests.

To continue reading, click here.