I read two books this week, a new one I was excited about and one that I’ve been putting off for three years. Both are good.
This one was pretty hyped. I’ve seen S.A. Crosby’s image everywhere and it was covered review-wise by all the big ticket spots, including The New York Times. I’ve had my eye on Crosby for a while, even though I had yet to read him. A chance encounter at the library helped me nab this one.
It absolutely meets the hype. Crosby’s prose is smooth, his protagonist complex in all the best ways, the crimes are as high octane as one can expect. The driving and action scenes absolutely crackle. And every time I thought I was zigging with the plot, Crosby would zag but not in a gratuitous way. It’s an exciting, star making story written by a writer who I hope we get more of in the coming years.
I’m not a Hillary Rodham Clinton fan or a hater. I didn’t vote for her in the 2016 primary but had no problem voting for her in the 2016 election. Despite getting a copy via the library when this first came out, I couldn’t bring myself to read it. It was too close to Trump’s victory, my feelings too raw. I wasn’t ready to relive those memories.
With Trump’s mishandling of the coronavirus, Clinton has been on my mind more. I saw this at the library while searching for another book and figured it was time. And like the critics said, it’s a very real, poignant memoir. Clinton leaves no stone unturned in the same search we’ve all had to make sense of 2016. She’s accountable for her mistakes and honest about the impact of outside forces and factors. I didn’t find this aggrieved at all but that could perhaps be because I sympathize with 90% of what she was saying.
In the moment, it’s a fascinating look at what was. But I think this book will endure as a time capsule when people look back to see how we as a nation willingly placed our hands in a man who has led us to disaster.