My review of Helen Simonson's The Summer Before the War

Brilliant! Helen Simonson’s The Summer Before the War is an absolutely brilliant depiction of humanity in good times and in bad. In this novel, set in Rye, Sussex, England, the good times are during the summer before World War I and the bad times are in the first year of that war. Well-crafted characters among the families of Rye are characters we all know in our own lives.

There’s the condescending, self-righteous person in power (Mayor Fothergill) and his glory-seeking wife (Bettina), whose ideas so thinly veil self-aggrandizement that Bettina seems the cartoon fool. There are outcasts (Gypsies and free-thinking artists); pitiable social projects (Belgian refugees) whom the wealthy treat as projects, not people; legalists and gossips (a landlady and most of the landed gentry on the refugee aid committee); and society’s unworthy idols (a famous writer and high-ranking military official).

Hopefully, we all also know people like Agatha and John Kent and their nephew Hugh, who see others’ hearts and have the courage to do the right thing for the right reasons. A newcomer to Rye, Beatrice Nash, who has been recruited to teach Latin in a local school, falls in with the Kent family—literally in the story as Agatha takes Beatrice under her wing, and as another character who truly cares for others.

The Summer Before the War has no shortage of intrigue—Agatha’s diplomatic channeling of Bettina’s misguided efforts; the disparate personalities and pursuits of Agatha’s nephews, Hugh, the serious medical student, and Daniel, the flighty poet, their affections and frictions; Beatrice’s troubles with the school board; war’s brewing and brooding over the town; the Kent family’s helping a Gypsy family and the social fallout from their compassion; and romantic question marks hanging over several relationships, to name only a few subplots.

I very much admired the insights and steadfastness of two strong female leads: Agatha and Beatrice. And because this novel took place in 1914–15 and had what I’d call two heroines, the story contained a whole spectrum of prejudice against women, from simple, cultural, gender inequality to downright misogyny. The hardest examples for me to read were the fathers who bequeathed financial and emotional bondage to their devoted daughters either because they valued their own work more than their daughters or didn’t trust their daughters to manage affairs without male supervision. At one point, when she learned that the Kent men had kept from her the fact that Daniel had enlisted for the war, a frustrated Agatha asks, “Why do men presume to know what is best for us?”

As the relatively carefree summer of 1914 fades into war-induced hardships of that autumn and winter, this novel’s tone changes from sunny to stormy. Indeed, the pall of war clouds the spirits of all participants, even as they emerge, still mourning, from witnessed horrors six years later in the book’s epilogue.

When I began reading The Summer Before the War, my heart was light and laughing along with the characters. I was reminded of the delight with which I read and immediately reread Simonson’s first novel, Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand. When rumors of war hit Rye, I began to feel a bit uneasy, but Rye life’s tone was still relatively light. When bedraggled Belgian refugees trudged into town, my heartstrings sagged, but these people would be cared for by the townsfolk, so all would be well, right? I was naïve about war. Early in the book, Bettina’s selfish foibles were funny. In the presence of Belgians who had been invaded and violated, however, unwitting Bettina went from being a buffoon to being a monster. Suddenly, everything was more emotionally dangerous for everyone. Then came physical casualties and the weariness of living under a suffocating black cloud for four years. As Simonson masterfully takes the reader and Rye from pre-war to post-war, the reader will definitely feel the mood shift from light to heavy.

Not to end on a depressing note, I will say the novel’s ending is satisfying. Beatrice and Agatha are inspiring. And the story is brilliantly told. The writing is magnificent. Bravo to Helen Simonson! Despite the ravages-of-war subject, I sincerely hope you will read this book; it is wonderful.

Book Review of Charles Duhigg's The Power of Habit

How much of what we do every day is habit? Usually, more than we realize. You might also be surprised by the value of habits. Since brewing your morning coffee chugs along on autopilot, your brain has more energy to make more important decisions like preparing for a business meeting. If your brain had to think through every action, its effectiveness would be compromised. Charles Duhigg’s book The Power of Habit presents scientific research illustrated by real-life stories on the importance of good or neutral habits and of keys to changing bad habits.

Duhigg divides the book into three sections: The Habits of Individuals, The Habits of Successful Organizations, and The Habits of Society. Supporting Notes and an Index follow. Although the book is not meant as a how-to-change chronic destructive habits, Duhigg includes a practical Reader’s Guide to Using These Ideas. I think this last item is helpful, because I cannot imagine anyone reading this book and not thinking about at least one habit of his own he’d like to change. Duhigg gives suggestions simplified into a formula, but success will depend on the reader’s self-perceptions (What am I really craving here?) and self-control.

Most people know self-control is required to form a healthier habit. But what research shows is that “Willpower isn’t just a skill. It’s a muscle, like the muscles in your arms or legs, and it gets tired as it works harder, so there’s less power left over for other things.” [p. 137] Duhigg presents further research on the questions these study results engendered. And he gives examples of how companies harness these study results to build self-discipline in their employees.

Other corporate uses of habit research are fascinating from a marketing perspective. How did Target increase revenues $22 billion just by tracking their shoppers’ habits? How did a song no one liked at first sell 5.5 million albums and win a Grammy? Why do certain cleaning products contain nonessential ingredients?

Duhigg also mentions the power of a crisis to change an organization such as Rhode Island Hospital, Starbucks, Alcoa, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and the London Underground. After a crisis, people are more open to stop digging in their heels on their own turf in order to function as a customer-focused communication machine.

I found Duhigg’s reasons for the success of the Civil Rights Movement and Saddleback Church enlightening. They involved being part of a community (or multiple communities) where change seems possible.

The Power of Habit may not offer the most earth-shattering revelations. But the types of habit studies being done are eye-opening, and Duhigg’s stories are interesting. I was hoping this book might be more like Malcolm Gladwell’s writings, full of surprise, switcheroo perspectives. Other than the story about preventing riots by removing food vendors, and the general exhortation to shift one’s perceptions, this book’s WOW surprises are minimal. But The Power of Habit’s success stories are encouraging and motivating. When you finish the book, you will be confident of your potential for transformation and more aware of the “small wins” your new keystone habit gives you.

Savannah

Everything’s been something else

Founded in 1733, Savannah, Georgia, has survived three major fires, two hurricanes, one earthquake, and a yellow fever epidemic that killed 8,000 residents. Our Old Savannah Tours guide relayed the city’s backstory as he wove our trolley through residential neighborhoods of tall houses dating back centuries. During Savannah’s nearly three hundred years, natural disasters and generations of people changed generations of buildings. Our guide put it this way: Everything’s been something else.

Savannah’s squares

In 2.1 square miles, Savannah’s historic district contains twenty-four squares—grassy openings bordered by public buildings and churches on the east and west and residents’ homes on the north and south. Originally, the squares represented political wards. At some point after one of the three big fires, a bell was installed on each square to call firefighters and militia in emergencies. Today, the squares offer tranquil greenery, paths and benches, and statues and fountains. Many statues are of military heroes. Our guide explained that whether a monument commemorates a veteran of the Spanish-American War, the Civil War, or the Vietnam War, the soldier stands facing his enemy.

Savannah’s founding ideals

James Oglethorpe, the British general who founded the colony of Georgia in 1733, had some noble ideals for the new colony—no slavery and no rum—as well as some curious ideals—no lawyers and no Catholics. None of these prohibitions lasted long. Alas, Georgia quickly buckled to its own residents’ demand for rum and the surrounding states’ pressure for slave labor. Who knows what happened to the ban on lawyers? To build its population, Savannah eventually welcomed a broad spectrum of immigrant ethnicities and religions.

Savannah takeaways

As we disembarked the trolley at the Visitor Center that used to be a cotton warehouse across the parking lot from a Savannah College of Art and Design building that used to be a railroad depot, I thought about the application of city histories to individuals’ lives. We all used to be someone else. Needs and priorities change. We mature on the outside and on the inside as well, sometimes from events we can’t control, but hopefully, mostly from lessons wisely learned. And if we’re smart, we stand facing our enemies.

Confessions of a Traveling Homebody

When I say I want a change of scenery, I want to broaden my horizons, I want to get away from my daily life, I mean it—but not completely. The familiar is comfortable. Broadened horizons, not so much. Take my recent vacation, for example. I had been up to my eyeballs in an editing job, French class assignments, and tax prep, both mine and my mother’s. Arriving home from vacation, I had to hit the ground running with more of the same. But in between, sixteen days in Georgia and Florida were gloriously relaxing.

It’s just that—well, as I look back over my trip diary, what I recorded reflects a high degree of disorientation and a low degree of adventure, or even adaptability.

My notes about all four hotels focus on whether each hotel’s provisions allowed me to have the type of tea I wanted at the time of day I wanted it, compared with what I’m used to drinking at home. Okay, I did write about people’s friendliness and the hotel’s nearby attractions. But tea? Gee whiz, apparently, I HAVE to have my daily tea. Get a grip, Jane.

At the Marietta History Museum, my favorite exhibits were the ones displaying 1950s toys and games of the baby boomer generation. I spent way more time there reveling in reminiscences of Lincoln Logs and Captain Kangaroo than I did learning about Marietta’s role in the Civil War. And my favorite memories of my time in that museum are that I e-mailed photos of 1950s toys to my siblings and received a phone call from a neighbor from home. In contrast, while I sat on a velvet antique chair gabbing with my friend, my husband engaged the docent in the military history room. He broadened his horizons. I broadened my comfort zone. I realize our approaches to that museum also relate to our disparate interests and personalities, but still, I was struck by how little I reached out to grab unfamiliar gusto.

My trip diary also records a fair amount of comfort zone-seeking in Florida. We stayed in different lodging than in the past. Having stayed in the same part of this Florida town for twenty Februarys now, I am used to walking to favorite shops and cafés. This February, we were too far north for any of my well-worn paths, and I missed them. One day, I even planned a beach walk to replicate a backward version of one of our favorites; we had to drive to what is normally our promenade destination and start there, then loop back to it on foot. It just felt so good to see the same oceanfront homes we’re used to seeing and spot the same towering Norfolk Island Pine from way down the beach. Pathetic, I know. 

Even more pathetic are my notes from Starbucks. “We drove to Starbucks—our Starbucks. I have felt disoriented not being able to walk to it. Now that we’re here though listening to the fizzing machines and animated chatter and laughter, sitting under the familiar aqua-edged surfboard and next to baskets of Komodo Dragon Blend bags, feeling silky hot chocolatey liquid warming my throat … aah. I hope to walk to our familiar places when we’ve finished our coffee.”

In defense of my homebody-ness, I will say that my pre-vacation stress levels were so high, I probably needed to vacation in a relatively comfortable zone in order to get needed relaxation. And we did explore new areas, take historical tours, and meet new people. One exhilarating new experience for me was bicycling on the beach. The next vacation on our list will be almost entirely new adventures, so I’m preparing to broaden my horizons in a big way. I’m with Dorothy though: There’s no place like home.