Josephine Baker and Orlando

 Josephine Baker by José-Louis Bocquet with art by Catel (2017) 568 pages

I like that this writer/artist pair make hefty graphic bios. I previously read their graphic biography about Alice Guy. They are able to include so many details and episodes from Josephine's life. I've previously read the biography about Josephine's espionage work for the British and French Resistance during WWII. This graphic book provides a lot more depth about her early life and her work as an entertainer. The WWII period, by contrast, is quite brief. Her later life related to her raising the "Rainbow Tribe" of orphans was fascinating too. The biographical notes at the end on secondary historical figures that crossed paths with Josephine are extensive. In fact, I thought some did not need to be included, since they barely played a role in her story.

Orlando adapted by Susanne Kuhlendahl (2026) 224 pages

I really enjoyed Sally Potter's movie version of Orlando. And this is one of two graphic novel adaptations of Virginia Woolf's queer story coming out this year. I had not read any Woolf novels in school, so it is only through recent Wiki research that I learned Woolf is part of the Modernist literary movement with "stream of consciousness" passages. Kuhlendahl's adaptation definitely keeps this style front and center. However, instead of Orlando breaking the fourth wall like in the movie, Woolf, the "biographer," is present on the page and comments on being a biographer of this character. There is no scientific or magical explanation for how Orlando is able to live more than 300 years, nor for how Orlando transforms from a man into a woman. We are simply asked to ponder "what if" this is true. The story is episodic with changing art styles. It is full of commentary on gender, poetry, love and life, and changing fashions. I thought the chapter set in the Victorian 19th century was the weakest part and the finale set in the early 20th century (Woolf's era), while things truly move at a faster pace, still felt rushed after the depth of the earlier historical periods.

A Case of Mice and Murder

A Case of Mice and Murder by Sally Smith, 336 pages

It's 1901 and Inner Temple barrister Gabriel Ward is bogged down with a case concerning the authorship of a popular children's book about a mouse. However, when the Lord Chief Justice of England is found dead (and scandalously barefoot!) on Gabriel's doorstep, he reluctantly divides his attention to attempt solving the murder. 

Full of detail about the hidden legal world of early 1900s London and plenty of suspects and intrigue, it moves a bit slowly at times, but that's to be expected for a series starter. An excellent historical mystery, and highly recommended.

Shelterwood

Shelterwood by Lisa Wingate, 347 pages

In 1909 Oklahoma, precocious young girl Olive runs away from home to save her adopted sister, a Choctaw orphan named Nessa, from her stepfather's bad intentions. Eighty years later, park security officer Valerie is new to the fictitious Winding Stair National Park when she discovers that her coworkers are trying to sweep aside an investigation of old bones in a cave as she simultaneously searches for a missing teenager. As the story bounces back and forth between the two timelines, it become increasingly clear that the two stories are connected, though it's hard to say exactly how.

It's interesting, though not particularly surprising, to learn more about the many ways in which indigenous Americans were treated 100+ years ago, particularly in Oklahoma, and it's intriguing to think about the ways in which we as a society continue the oppression of this culture. That said, the presentation of these two stories is a bit stilted and uneven, and I kept getting frustrated with the odd pacing of both stories. That said, for those who read or watched Killers of the Flower Moon and wanted to learn more about the era through a novel, this is an OK option.

The Great Divide

The Great Divide by Cristina Henriquez, 321 pages

In 1907, able-bodied people (mostly men) were flocking to Panama in search of work helping to build the long-promised Panama Canal. Along with the backbreaking work, the influx of workers also had to deal with malaria, mudslides, and a segregated social order that placed white Americans well above the people of color who worked hard to make their lives possible. This novel brings to life the atmosphere surrounding the Canal project, from the migrant workers to American doctors fighting against malaria to native Panamanians who struggled to balance their desire to earn money with their dislike of the not-quite-colonization of their country. It's a beautifully told meditation on progress and the impact it has on individuals instead of the world economy. Well worth a read.

The Phoenix Crown

The Phoenix Crown by Kate Quinn & Janie Chang, 400 pages

It's April 1906 and opera singer Gemma Garland has just arrived in San Francisco ahead of a series of performances in the Met's touring production of Carmen (in the chorus, but hey, it's still the Met!). When she gets into town, however, she learns that her friend, artist Nellie, with whom she was going to stay, has disappeared. Soon, however, Gemma has found herself a wealthy patron and is set to be the toast of the town. Meanwhile, orphaned Suling is doing everything she can to avoid her gambling-addicted uncle from selling her off in marriage. What neither Gemma nor Suling can predict, however, is the deadly earthquake that will destroy the city in the middle of all of their plans.

In the afterword to this book, the authors note that the more they learned about the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, the more things they wanted to include in the book, and how hard it was to take things out. After trying to summarize it above, I'm realizing that they could have cut out several other elements to make it a bit less convoluted. The characters and overall plot were interesting (I'd definitely read a book about real-life botanist Alice Eastwood, fiction or nonfiction!), though I don't think the earthquake itself added much to the story as a whole — and considering the importance of setting in historical fiction, that's not a great thing. It was an interesting book, but it won't be topping my list of favorite historical fictions.

*This book comes out Feb. 13.

Plain Bad Heroines

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily Danforth, 464 pages

In 1903, two young girls, Clara and Flo, had fallen in love at Brookhants, their boarding school in Rhode Island. It was at Brookhants that the pair was chased into a yellow jacket nest in the woods by Clara's angry cousin, leading the lovers to their painful death. This event became the first of several unfortunate deaths that caused Brookhants to gain a reputation for being cursed. More than 100 years later, a young woman, Merritt, has written The Happenings at Brookhants, a history of the school and the many women who fell victim to its "curse," and now that book is being made into a movie. 

Plain Bad Heroines alternately tells the story of Brookhants headmistress Libbie and her lover, Alex, as well as the story of Merritt and the two women (Harper and Audrey) who have been cast as Clara and Flo in the movie. It's an intriguing, creepy, queer story, with a very spooky setting and more than enough yellow jackets. Good for fans of both gothic fiction and horror movies.