Superior Reads


It’s 1999, Y2K is looming, and the country is a little on edge. The people at the Rose of Sharon Church are preparing for the Apocalypse. So begins Thomas Maltman’s newest novel, due out in October, THE LAND.

Lucien Swenson, recovering from an auto accident, drops out of college and sets out to solve the mystery surrounding the disappearance of his missing lover, Maura, who vanished along with money stolen from the bank where they both worked. His search brings him to the Rose of Sharon, a white supremacist church deep in the wilderness, where Maura’s husband is the pastor. The congregants have stockpiles of guns and have retreated to their remote land in preparation for the end times.

Like his first two novels, The Night Birds and Little Wolves, the landscape in The Land is evocative – ravens falling from the sky, koi fish frozen in a pond, winter in a wild place, and a mysterious stranger on the doorstep – all of these things setting a stark, bleak backdrop for the end of the world. Lucien Swenson is young, naïve in matters of love and relationships, conflicted about his own family, and searching not just for the woman he loves, but for a life he could love.

There’s a lot at stake in Maltman’s THE LAND – will Lucien be able to infiltrate the Rose of Sharon and maintain his integrity? Can a soul in search of meaning unwittingly find it in a corrupt religion? These questions, dear reader, are the ingredients of a page turner.

I recommend THE LAND for fans of Cormac McCarthy and Larry Watson. Listen to my interview with Thomas Maltman on Superior Reads on September 24 at 7:00 pm or online at

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews.

Some books are meant to be re-read, and it seems that for me the time was now to reread Eva Hoffman’s After Such Knowledge: Where Memory of the Holocaust Ends and History Begins. With everything going on in the world today, with global politics tipping right and an election bearing down on us, reading it again was a poignant reminder of that old trope, we must remember and understand history or we are destined to repeat it.

In her last book, Lost in Translation, Eva Hoffman showed us what it was like to experience the self-absorbed me-generation of 1960s America as an adolescent emigrant from war-torn Krakow, Poland. In After Such Knowledge, Hoffman reveals her outsider’s perspective once more, only this time as a second generation Holocaust survivor.

Hoffman asks fellow survivors, readers and herself, “What meanings does the Holocaust hold for us today—and how are we going to pass on those meanings to subsequent generations?” As the age of living memory nears its end, sixty years after the Shoah, the legacy—and the responsibility for passing on its moral, historical and psychological implications—is being handed down to the second generation.

Hoffman’s parents survived the Holocaust in what was then the Polish part of the Ukraine with the help of neighbors, but their entire families perished. One of the most poignant moments in the book is when the author finally meets the family who saved her parents’ lives.
Hoffman’s meditation is a dense narrative that interweaves Freudian thought, theories on the transmission of trauma, historical accounts of the Holocaust and other genocides, with her personal stories of loss, restoration and forgiveness. In order to grieve and move on, she says reflecting back Freudian theory, “you have to know what you have lost.” And “transferred loss” is what the children of survivors inherit.

At the end of the book, Hoffman answers her initial question, by saying, “If we do not want to betray the past—if we want to remain ethical beings and honor our covenant with those who suffered—then moral passion needs to be supplanted by moral thought, by an incorporation of memory into our consciousness of the world.” And it is this final thought that makes this book exigent among not only Holocaust literature, but all of literature, for it addresses the extensive implications of atrocity.

When Scott Carpenter moved his family from Minnesota to Paris, the cultural chasm was deep and wide. Never mind that he was fluent in her language and literature, there were certain proclivities of her nature that had to be experienced to be fully understood. Welcome to the hilarious world chronicled in Scott Carpenter’s memoir, French Like Moi, A Midwesterner in Paris, where an errand to a cheese shop becomes a lecture on cows; a remodeling project must be delayed until a neighbor dies; and a friend’s Coq Au Vin becomes fodder for a more palatable Americanized version, one that doesn’t involve offal.

Shortly after moving into his new neighborhood, the street in front of Carpenter’s apartment became a construction zone.

“Men in blue coveralls unloaded sheets of corrugated metal and built a work enclosure the size of our apartment, as tightly wrapped as a Christo installation.”

No one knew what they were doing or seemed to care. He quickly realized that his neighborhood, in the southeast section of town, held little of the romance or glitter of the postcard Paris with which most tourists are familiar. Similarly, the residents were real people and he frequently found himself stepping over vagrants or beggars to get to his favorite shops. Yet, when he reported one beggar to one of the bakery ladies, she shrugged it off.

“The French tolerance for the scruffy and unhinged of the world hadn’t entirely eluded me. Paris is unforgiving of small social infractions, but once you cross a certain threshold, almost any eccentricity can be pardoned – sort of the way that, in the US, petty thieves get thrown in prison but the more ambitious ones are put in charge of hedge funds.”

In France, students are set upon a regimented program of learning. It seemed ridiculous to the French that American students were given so many choices, when they were yet uneducated. When one of Carpenter’s friends asked him the best way to teach an incoming group of American students, he advised him to make his presentation more interactive. American students, compared to their French counterparts, have less tolerance for facts. They want to participate in discussions. The difference, as Carpenter paints it, is the difference between a pointillist Seurat and an impressionistic Monet.

Life in the City of Light wasn’t all glitter and gold. Parisians had their share of twenty-first century problems. It seemed terrorism showed no favoritism. Due to several events in recent years, Parisians were forced to open their bags for inspection before entering a shopping center and armed military strolled through the parks on the alert for terrorist activity. While we’ve come to associate terroristic experiences with American culture, they were also happening in France.

“The difference was, in Paris people got depressed, while in the US they got angry. Americans were buying guns in record numbers . . . In the States people don’t like to sit on their hands. They’d rather sit on a crate of ammunition.”

From the mundane to the evocative, in the end Carpenter’s essays point to our shared humanity. I recommend Scott Dominic Carpenter’s French Like Moi for fans of Adam Gopnik’s Paris to the Moon.

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews.

THE STREET is the heartbreaking story of Lutie Johnson, a young, black, single mother trying to raise her son on the streets of Harlem. First published in 1946, THE STREET was Ann Petry’s debut novel and was the first book by a female author to sell over a million copies. THE STREET is as resonant today as it was in 1946.

Lutie Johnson takes a job as a live-in domestic for a white family in Connecticut and can only afford to come home twice a month to visit her young son, Bub, and her unemployed husband. When she discovers her husband cheating on her, she leaves him, and she and Bub move into a fourth-floor apartment in Harlem. She takes a new job but is barely able to make ends meet. When she is offered an opportunity to sing at a casino owned by a white man, Junto, she jumps at the chance, even though the job means that she must leave Bub alone in the apartment at night. She has dreams of rising out of poverty and leaving Harlem behind. At every turn, Lutie is taken advantage of by both black and white men. Boots, the manipulative band leader; Junto, the casino owner who won’t pay her; and Jones, the superintendent of her building who fondles her clothing while she’s out, all desire her and think she’s an easy mark. But Junto is perhaps the most dangerous because of his position of power.

“In every direction, anywhere one turned there was always the implacable figure of a white man blocking the way, so that it was impossible to escape.”

When Jones attacks her in the hallway, he’s interrupted by Mrs. Hedges, the first-floor resident who runs a brothel out of her apartment. Mrs. Hedges warns Jones not to mess with Lutie because she essentially belongs to Junto, who owns the apartment building. Jones is hellbent on revenge and implicates Bub in a criminal act to get back at Lutie. Bub is taken to a children’s shelter and Lutie is convinced that he’ll be sent to reform school and never escape the poverty of Harlem.

We can feel the hopelessness of Lutie’s situation. She is caught in a cycle of poverty and the walls created by racism, classism, and sexism begin to close in on her.

“The men stood around and the women worked. The men left the women and the women went on working and the kids were left alone . . . They would not stay in the house after school because they were afraid in the empty, silent, dark rooms. And they should have been playing in wide stretches of green park and instead they were in the street. And the street reached out and sucked them up . . . the women work because the white folks give them jobs . . . the women work because for years now the white folks haven’t liked to give black men jobs that paid enough for them to support their families.”

Petry’s voice is distinctive and the motivation of her characters is intelligible. The street is the real antagonist in the novel – a living thing hellbent on destroying its inhabitants through deprivation or exploitation. The street takes mothers away from their children as they go to and from their domestic jobs. The street is a playground for their unattended children, leaving them vulnerable to nefarious people and schemes.

“Streets like the one she lived on were no accident. They were the North’s lynch mobs.” Petry writes.

For Lutie, there is no escape. She is hemmed in on every side by predatory men and exploitive employers, by lack of opportunity and entrenched bias. There will be no happy endings for Lutie Johnson. She will leave Harlem, but not in the way that she had imagined.

I recommend THE STREET for fans of Richard Wright’s NATIVE SON and Colson Whitehead’s THE NICKEL BOYS. Add THE STREET to your antiracism library and discuss it with your book club.

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews.

Once a pregnant sixteen-year-old incarcerated in the Minnesota juvenile justice system, Carolyn Holbrook went on to found SASE: The Write Place, and now leads More Than a Single Story, a series of panel discussions and community conversations for people of color, indigenous writers, and art activists. In a series of essays both heartrending and inspiring, TELL ME YOUR NAMES AND I WILL TESTIFY traces her path from her troubled youth to her leadership positions in the Twin Cities literary community.

Throughout these essays, Carolyn’s indomitable spirit shines through, lighting the way for others to follow. As the executive director of SASE, Carolyn made space for others to discover the incredibly healing power of a life lived in the arts; a place for remembering and telling stories that might have been lost; a place for acknowledging how important our stories are to who and how we become; a place to learn that stories can serve as both a bridge and a ladder.

As a young mother of five, Holbrook found the courage to flee an abusive relationship and raise her children on her own. Living in the Whittier neighborhood of Minneapolis, she found community and a sense of purpose. She rented a typewriter, put an ad in the Minnesota Daily, and started a secretarial service. She taught her two oldest children, only in elementary school at the time, how to answer her business line and proofread. From this humble starting place, she went on to establish writer’s workshops, earned a PhD at the age of fifty-eight, and became a college professor and art activist.

Confronted by racism, both subtle and audacious, she persevered. She inspired students, regardless of their race, class, or age to write their own stories. As a mother, she helped her daughter leave an abusive relationship, stood by her son through his own years of incarceration, and as a grandmother envisioned a world where her granddaughters could develop a strong sense of self and personal freedom.

In her prologue, Holbrook tells of her early forays into writing her story. As is often the case, she faced the critic and the muse. They are the voices of her maternal aunts, she writes. One sitting on her left shoulder, shaking her finger and saying, “Now don’t you go stirring things up,” and the other on her right shoulder, who says, “Don’t hold back, child. Someone out there needs to hear what you have to say.” Fortunately for us, she listened to her muse.

TELL ME YOUR NAMES AND I WILL TESTIFY will be released in August by University of Minnesota Press and is available now for preorders. It is a timely read as we examine systemic racism and work for change. The book is available to read for free online through August 31 as part of University of Minnesota Press’s just released Reading for Racial Justice Collection. More information about that collection and how to access it can be found here:

Carolyn will host a virtual launch on August 12, register at She can be found at

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews. Listen to my author interview with Carolyn on Thursday, July 23 at 7:00 pm on

Holly George-Warren is a seasoned journalist and biographer and her biography of Janis Joplin, JANIS, HER LIFE AND MUSIC is one of the best rock and roll biographies I’ve read in years. Through interviews with friends, family, former band members, and other musicians George-Warren helps us to understand the enormously talented, but deeply conflicted, Janis Joplin.

Spanning her early years in Port Arthur, Texas, where as a bright student she skipped a grade and endured relentless bullying from her fellow students, to the birth of Big Brother and the Holding Company and the painful break with them as she outgrew them musically, to the eventual launch of the Kozmic Blues Band, George-Warren gives us a glimpse of the inner life of the tormented artist through letters home to her family and diary entries.

“I never seemed to be able to control my feelings, to keep them down . . . when you feel that much, you have super-horrible downs. I’d run away, freak out, go crazy . . . “ Janis wrote.

More than anything, except perhaps fame, Janis desired the love and acceptance of her family. Her father, an engineer, took Janis to the library weekly as a youngster and engaged with her intellectually, but after her brother was born, he spent less time with her. Her mother, a deeply religious former church soloist, didn’t approve of Janis’s art, clothing, or music. Her parents’ and classmates’ rejection left deep wounds, but also fueled her rebellion. Openly bi-sexual, , Janis had difficulty forming any lasting relationship and soon developed a drug and alcohol addiction. After leaving Texas for California with a summer in New York, her musical career started to take off, but she returned home to kick an addiction to methamphetamine. Once home she enrolled in college and became engaged to her boyfriend Peter de Blanc, writing him letters filled with dreams of domesticity. But de Blanc turned out to be a conman and a liar and after months of being put off, she finally broke it off him, refocusing on her music. Her parents wanted her to finish college and have a more reliable career.

“ . . . although I envy many aspects of being a student and living at home, I guess I have to keep trying to be a singer,” she wrote in a letter home. “Weak as it is, I apologize for being so just plain bad to the family. I realize that my shifting values don’t make me very reliable and that I’m a disappointment and, well, I’m just sorry.”

A huge fan of Bessie Smith and Otis Redding, Janis studied their voices and techniques and worked hard to develop her own, finally hitting it big at the Monterey Pop Festival in June of 1967. As Janis developed her talent, learning to produce as well, she began to outgrow her band Big Brother. But her loyalties ran deep; the band was a surrogate family and she resisted leaving them. As Janis was recognized more and more as a star, and the main attraction when band performed, resentments started to build within the group. By the summer of 1968 there was so much animosity among the band members, that Janis left and formed the Kozmic Blues Band.

Janis continued to grow as a musician, but was plagued by anxiety – something her father referred to as the Saturday Night Swindle – if she got out of Port Arthur, things would get better; if she got married, things would get better; if she became a famous singer, things would get better – but things never got better. Nothing seemed to bring lasting happiness. She became increasingly dependent on alcohol and drugs to numb her pain, eventually shooting up heroin.

She met David Niehaus on a beach in Brazil during a three-month hiatus after trying to come clean, and they fell in love. But Janis wasn’t willing to give up her career and he wanted to travel the world, so the two parted, hoping that eventually they would find their way back to each other. On October 4, at the age of 27 years old, Janis died of a heroin overdose. In her mailbox at the hotel, was a letter from Niehaus, “Sure would dig it if you were here . . . if you can come for a few weeks or a few years . . . really miss ya. Things aren’t the same alone . . . Love ya, Mama, more than you know.”

Janis had finally succumbed to the Saturday Night Swindle.

Holly George-Warren’s JANIS HER LIFE AND MUSIC, was particularly enjoyable as an audiobook. Nina Arianda does a masterful job of capturing Janis’s Texas twang, as well as her cackling laugh. When she reads Janis’s letters home, her longing is palpable. I highly recommend JANIS HER LIFE AND MUSIC for fans of Patty Smith’s JUST KIDS.

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews. Listen to my author interviews on WTIP 90.7 Grand Marais, Minnesota http://www.wtip.

I absolutely loved DID YOU EVER HAVE A FAMILY by Bill Clegg, so I was thrilled to get an advanced reader copy of THE END OF THE DAY which will be available from booksellers September 29.

Clegg’s writing is luminous. In DID YOU EVER HAVE A FAMILY, June is devastated when on the eve of her daughter’s wedding, an explosion kills her daughter, her daughter’s fiancé, her ex-husband and her boyfriend. She had been looking forward to the future, and in one tragic moment, that future disappeared. June embarks on a cross-country odyssey – whether she is running from the past or searching for her new future will become clear as she puts miles between her and her losses. In that book, the characters are compelling and the storyline was thought-provoking — definitely a five star review.

THE END OF THE DAY failed to evoke the same response in me. Friends and acquaintances who have not seen each other in fifty years, but who had been connected in their youth, come back together profoundly when a young man finds his father dead in his apartment.

I initially thought that two of the central protagonists, Jackie and Dana were in their eighties because of the author’s descriptions of their cognitive and physical conditions — and was surprised (and disappointed) to discover that they were only in their sixties. Several of the characters were mere caricatures and never fully developed. Without the lived experience of being a Latina, I believe that Clegg, a white, male author, may take some flack for his character Lupita.

The storyline in THE END OF THE DAY initially intrigued me — I really enjoy multiple storylines that reveal intersecting perspectives, but in the end, the character’s stories and motivations fell flat. I could not fully believe that Lupita would take the risks she took, Dana evoked a Cruella De Vil vibe, and Jackie was so utterly hapless that I could not feel any sympathy for her.

Although this book fell flat for me, I still hold Bill Clegg in high regard and will look forward to his next novel.

I recommend Bill Clegg’s DID YOU EVER HAVE A FAMILY, which is currently available in paperback and was a finalist for the National Book Award  and the Man Booker Prize in 2016 for fans of Ann Tyler and Ann Patchett. His second novel, THE END OF THE DAY will be available September 29.

When Elisabeth Tova Bailey was struck with a debilitating illness, her friend found a snail in the woods and brought it to her in a pot of violets.

“Why, did you bring it in?” She asks her friend.

“I don’t know. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Why, she wonders, would she enjoy a snail? She was bedridden at the age of thirty-four after a trip to Europe where she contracted a mysterious viral or bacterial infection, resulting in severe neurological symptoms. But as she convalesced, she had little company but her small snail, and she began to recognize  the beauty in the snail’s slow movements and finite world. She also recognized the similarities to her own situation; the snails life in many ways was a metaphor for her own.

“Survival often depends on a specific focus: a relationship, a belief, or a hope balanced on the edge of possibility,” Bailey writes. The snail become all those things for her. A spirit guide of sorts as she navigated through the new and unfamiliar world of living with a chronic illness.

Bailey’s lyrical prose breathes life into what, for some, could be a dry topic. Her curiosity and resilience in the face of a devastating illness make this an inspiring read for anyone who feels hobbled by their current circumstances.

Though published in 2010, The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating is a quiet book that seems as though it was written specifically for our current quarantine. If you are feeling overwhelmed, or are having trouble concentrating on that 1,000 page epic that you started in January, take a break and spend some time with Elisabeth Tova Bailey and her snail.

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reads.

In her newest novel RODHAM, Curtis Sittenfeld presents us with an alternate history of what Hillary Rodham Clinton’s political career might have been had she not married Bill Clinton. It’s not the first time Sittenfeld has mined the life of a public figure; her protagonist in American Wife was based on Laura Bush.

The trajectory of Hillary’s adult life in RODHAM begins as in real life, she graduates from Wellesley College and delivers her renowned  commencement speech. She then goes to Yale Law School where she meets Bill Clinton, a charismatic young man who is her intellectual equal. From the start, Bill is outspoken about his aspirations to be President of the United States. As they leave a party together, one of their friends quips that they shouldn’t get romantically involved because he isn’t sure it’s legal for a Supreme Court Justice to date the President of the United States.

The first part of the book details Hillary and Bill’s courtship. Hillary is drawn to Bill’s good looks and outgoing personality, as well as his intellect. Since elementary school it seemed that every  boy she’d ever been attracted to did not feel the same way about her. So when Bill pursued her, she was flattered and somewhat grateful for his attention. Early on, Bill displays his penchant for big dreams as well as his big appetite — for French fries, ice cream sundaes, and sex.

In spite of early warning signs, Hillary decides to follow Bill to Arkansas where he plans to ultimately run for governor. In real life, Bill proposed marriage to Hillary several times before she finally accepted. In RODHAM, she eventually decides to leave Arkansas and Bill and returns to Chicago where she becomes a law professor, a Senator, and ultimately runs for President of the United States.

RODHAM is a glorious mash up of the real with the imagined. Sittenfeld inserts real-life people, including Donald Trump, into her alternate history with some surprising outcomes. A satisfying read for those of us who wish that we could have a do-over of the 2016 election.

James McBride won the National Book Award for his book The Good Lord Bird, and his newest novel Deacon King Kong is a contender as well. Deacon King Kong may read as a farce, but buried in McBride’s humor and hilarity is a book about grace and second chances.

In September of 1969, Deacon Cuffy Lambkin, more commonly known as Sportcoat walked into the courtyard of the Causeway Housing Project and shot the ear off of the neighborhood’s notorious drug dealer, Deems Clemens. At the daily coffee gathering, members of the Five Ends Baptist Church speculated wildly about why he did it. Some thought it was because he’d recently lost his wife Hettie, who drowned in the harbor, others thought he was under an evil mojo spell. Dominic Lefleur, the Haitian Cooking Sensation had seen everything from his bathroom window and declared, “I always knew old Sportcoat would do one great thing in life.” Sportcoat himself didn’t remember the crime, likely because he’d been enjoying his friend Rufus’s homemade moonshine, King Kong, a little too often since Hettie’s death.  His friends and fellow congregants of the Five Ends Baptist Church were more concerned for Sportcoat’s safety than he was – he was consumed with trying to find the Christmas Fund, which Hettie was in charge of and had neglected to tell anyone where she kept it before she died. Besides, Sportcoat had coached Deems, who was the best pitcher the Cause Houses ever had before he got involved in the drug business and Sportcoat was determined to get Deems back in the game.

McBride is a wordsmith, his sentences at times spool out over half the page and vibrantly color the world he’s created for us – like this one, where he describes the disparity between the black and white worlds of New York and the people who live in the Cause Houses:

. . . where cats hollered like people, dogs ate their own feces, aunties chain-smoked and died at age 102, a kid named Spike Lee saw God, the ghosts of the departed Dodgers soaked up all possibility of new hope, and penniless desperation ruled the lives of the suckers too black or too poor to leave, while in Manhattan the buses ran on time, the lights never went out, the death of a single white child in a traffic accident was a page one story, while phony versions of black and Latino life ruled the Broadway roost, making white writers rich – West Side Story, Porgy & Bess, Purlie Victorious – and on it went, the whole business of the white man’s reality lumping together like a giant, lopsided snowball, the Great American Myth, the Big Apple, the Big Kahuna, the City That Never Sleeps, while the blacks and Latinos who cleaned the apartments and dragged out the trash and made the music and filled the jails with sorrow slept the sleep of the invisible and functioned as local color.”

The Causeway Housing Project in South Brooklyn was an equal opportunity employer and the Italian mob runs parallel to Deems drug trade. Elefante, aka the Elephant, who’d inherited the black market business from his father, tried to  mind his own business, but he was in search of some missing treasure of his own.

McBride shows deep affection for his characters  – whether they be the Latinx or African American residents, the congregants of the Five Ends Baptist Church, the Italian mob, the cops investigating the crime, or King Kong- addled Sportcoat – under McBride’s watchful eye, they are all redeemable.

This is Lin Salisbury with Superior Reviews. Read all of my reviews and listen to my author interviews on and on WTIP 90.7 Grand Marais and on the web at

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