Book Review: Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond.

Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond. Debra Kaplan Low, Book Street Press, September 30, 2021, Paperback and eBook, 155 pages.

Review by Marcie Hill.

It was a joy to read Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond by Debra Kaplan Low. In addition to sharing stories about her life under the viaduct, Debra gives readers history lessons about Chicago, Jewish traditions, race in Chicago, and more. Her sense of humor and creative wordplay add an extra level of engagement to this captivating read. As I read this book, I felt like I knew Debra personally.

Debra describes Jeffrey Manor as a “paradise within the confines of a neighborhood.” It was refreshing to read firsthand accounts about the manor’s people, places, and activities that shaped Debra’s life. The residents were close because of their shared housing, experiences, and relationships. They didn’t have a lot of money, but they had each other. They knew intimate details about each other, supported each other, and created bonds that remain strong today. The viaduct played a major role in creating this close-knit community.

To the average person, viaducts are structures that support railroads. In the manor, the viaduct was the great divider. It divided the community into north and south regions, separating people based on class and income. The north side residents were “more well-educated, wealthier, professional white folks” that lived in single-family homes. Residents in the south manor were blue and white-collar workers that lived in “almost identical and very affordable duplex and row houses.” This viaduct is a physical reflection of the invisible barrier that separates Chicago’s north and south sides today. The north side has mostly white residents with higher incomes, better schools, high-value housing options, retailers and grocery stores within walking distance, and financial support from political officials. Most of the south side is occupied by middle class, working-class and low-income people of diverse races, lower home values, poorer schools, food, and pharmacy deserts, and has received little financial support from elected officials.

I learned about Jewish values, traditions, and ceremonies. Debra’s description of some of their events and her journey to finding her faith was hilarious. She was open about her father’s anger and emotional issues, her mother’s tolerance of his behavior, and how the family north of the viaduct treated her family. It was painful to read about the physical and emotional health challenges Manorites experienced because of exposure to deadly toxins near their homes. Some of them died. Despite this, the words used to describe the life after college for Boomers, as well as the irony of “Kosher Jews eating pork,” and the fact that her mother was the first Jewish member of the St. Stephens Episcopal Women’s Circle, brought smiles and laughter.

The book included several things about race in Chicago and beyond based on personal experiences, not just research. I didn’t know that people hung signs that read “No Jews Allowed.” I didn’t know that German Jews were treated differently than European Jews. Bowen High School had a diverse student population. I thought only white people could live and attend school in that area before the 1970s. I knew about the “white flight” from big cities, but I didn’t know when it happened. Debra noted that it began in the late 1960s and ended in the early 1970s. “The manor was entirely white until 1967,” but most residents had moved by 1972. I learned the origin of slumlords, the name given to landlords who charged high rents for crappy housing and treated their tenants poorly.

As a native South Sider, I related to Debra’s south side pride and neighborhood loyalty. Her Manor pride and loyalty remain today, even though she lives in Arizona. Readers will learn about Debra personally and as an author when they read Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond.

Book Review: Katie, Bar the Door

Katie, Bar the Door. Ruth Hull Chatlien, Amika Press, September 22, 2021, Paperback and eBook, 466 pages.

Review by Kelly Fumiko Weiss.

Katie, Bar the Door is a novel written by Ruth Hull Chatlien that follows the life of Katie Thompson and how her formative years impact her life's choices. After her father's death, Katie never lets herself grieve and internalizes the messages of her Baptist mother in ways that twist and distort who she was meant to be. The book is a journey to see how she hits rock bottom and then pulls herself up again, all while untangling the web of judgment she's told herself and has been told by others. Katie, Bar the Door does not shy away from any topic—whether it be disparate Christian viewpoints, sex crimes, and sexual identity, the role of women in relationships and marriage, or the bonds between parents and children. 

Some parts of this book are genuinely emotionally difficult to read. In extreme cases, the sexual exploitation can be jarring and triggering. But in most cases, it hurts to watch as Katie pushes away any good that she comes across because she cannot see the good in herself.

I will admit, the summary on the book jacket affected my reading of the book. It was so specific that I kept thinking about it as I was reading instead of letting myself really settle into what was a compelling, well-written, and emotionally honest journey. I appreciated that this book was not 100% anti-Christian or anti-religion. The layers of faith woven into the different characters became really flushed out, especially toward the end. I also appreciated how the author contextualized the prose more than the "disastrous choices about men" the jacket cover alluded to. Chatlien did a lovely job of not victim-blaming, diving deeply into the motivations behind the characters and the healing journey Katie ultimately embarks upon.

While the book tackles a wide range of difficult topics, it was quick to read and flowed at an easy pace. It was a fast 466 pages and had a satisfying ending. The full circle of love, loss, and forgiveness left me with a great deal of hope and heart-swell; after everything Katie endured, it could have just as easily been a cynical tale of repression. I truly appreciated the kindness of the last few chapters especially. 

I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves family-driven fiction. However, I will say that some of the themes may be triggering. This book is not for the faint of heart. It will make you look inside yourself and ask some tough questions of the readers, how you may judge others, and your own capacity for healing and forgiveness. One can only hope that we can and will be as strong as Katie when truly difficult situations arise and that we will have the support she ultimately finds to help guide us through.

Book Review: Finnigan the Lionhearted (Finnigan the Circus Cat #3)

Finnigan the Lionhearted. Mary T. Wagner, Waterhorse Press, December 2020, Electronic and Print, 159 pages.

Review by Casie Gambrel.

Mary T. Wagner’s Finnigan the Lionhearted is a charming tale perfect for children of all ages, even the young at heart.

This book is a marvelous trip down memory lane for anyone who remembers going to the circus as a child—and a most authentic introduction to the magic of the circus for those too young to have ever experienced it. The descriptions are so vivid you can almost hear the Ringmaster’s baritone voice announcing “Ladies and Gentlemen” with such power that it will have you leaning forward and rustling your popcorn box in excitement. Adorable pen illustrations add a visual sprinkle of joy for younger readers.

The storyline features a vast array of unique circus characters forming the most unexpected friendships and delivering meaningful life lessons along the way. The main characters are two curious mouse cousins, Max and Leroy, and their sweet pal Finnigan the Cat. Their adventure begins when the circus rolls into their hometown of Beechville, Wisconsin. They eagerly band together along with Boomer the dog to leave the comfort, safety, and secrecy of their home at the Farnsworth Circus Museum and embark on an adventure of a lifetime.

Their escapades bring them face to face with lions, tigers, and elephants. As the trio finds their way around the tent, they soon discover that things aren’t always what they seem: the most threatening-looking characters turn out to be the kindest, and those that seem to be the weakest rise to the occasion to face their fears and find their courage. As the suspense builds page after page, lessons in acceptance, trust, vulnerability, growth, and perseverance are delivered flawlessly, as if directed by the Ringmaster himself.

Finnigan the Lionhearted is the third book in this series of stories about Finnigan the Cat. It comes as no surprise that author Mary T. Wagner’s story is inspired by her family’s real-life rescue kitten, her home state of Wisconsin, and her younger daughter’s talent as a contemporary circus aerialist.

I highly recommend this book to any parent who’s looking for a delightful story and some good old-fashioned fun along with a few timeless lessons for themselves and their little ones. 

Book Review: Memory Tree

Memory Tree. Bill Mathis, Rogue Phoenix Press, April 27, 2021, Paperback and eBook, 215 pages.

Review by David Steven Rappoport.

Memory Tree is a poignant novel about a dying man, his relationship with his caretaker, and his entanglements with his already deceased family members. The book is metaphysically complex, describing death as a kind of conscious but constrained areligious limbo. Mathis says of the novel:

To me, Memory Tree encapsulates many levels of life: secrets, race, racism, revenge, regrets, death, love and hope. I believe we are made from the elements of stardust and return to similar elements when we die.

Eula, a dead child suspended in Mathis’ transitional post-life state, opens the novel. She seems to be waiting to be released into eternity, but something is holding her back. The narrative shifts to the story of her dying father, Duane, and his caretaker, Retha. Duane is white and Retha is Black. Duane is a racist, but the complexities are greater than that. Retha encourages Duane to talk about his life, and his story spills out. Eventually, as redemptive secrets are revealed, we learn that Retha and Duane are connected by the unnatural deaths of others.

Mathis was a finalist in the Chicago Writers’ Association’s First Chapter Contest two years in a row. As with all of Mathis’ novels, Memory Tree is well-crafted, and its handling of diverse characters is a particular strength. Mathis is interested in people, not plot. Further, he lacks intrinsic cynicism. Mathis seems willing to forgive his characters for almost anything, even murder. This belief in redemption might be read as sentimental. Those who share Mathis’ literary weltanschauung—Anne Frank not Fyodor Dostoevsky—may see his work as refreshing.

Memory Tree is an artful contribution to the Mathis canon, exhibiting his hallmark skill at characterization in a compelling story of regret.

Book review: POWERBALLS: Be careful what you wish for.

POWERBALLS: Be careful what you wish for. Jimmy Clifton, Northport Communications, May 6, 2021, Paperback and eBook, 250 pages.

Review by Florence Osmund.

Author Jimmy Clifton’s Powerballs is a cautionary tale about what can potentially happen to ordinary folks who win big in the lottery and fail to seek out advice on how to avoid the dreaded “lottery curse.”

Husband and wife Henry and Rose Ball struggle to make ends meet and keep their marriage from falling apart. Henry hates his boss and wishes he didn’t have to go to work each day. Rose daydreams of a better life, one with someone more exciting than Henry.

When the Balls win a huge Powerball lottery—the answer to their prayers and solution to all their problems—things change fast. They spend scant time planning what they will do with the money and go on separate spending sprees with no concern for what consequences their actions might bring. It doesn’t take long for their lives to become completely out of control.

The story has a slow beginning (which I am sure was intentional), but once it gains momentum, it is filled with so many twists and turns that it is a challenge to keep track of all the players and myriad subplots. Clifton creates a succession of action-packed scenes in exotic and adventurous settings—locales that set the stage for what happens and affect the characters’ mood and behavior—but still maintain balance with the characters’ complicated emotional lives. The right amount of character introspection creates empathy, which is requisite in writing good character-driven fiction.

The characters in Powerballs are interesting and memorable, immersed in layers of personality and history. The author is masterful at developing the relationships that play such important roles in this story. The relationships that Henry and Rose build during their journey influence their decisions and determine their fates. The essence of the story is how the characters evolve over time and how they reevaluate what they want and need out of life. 

Clifton’s writing style is engaging, with short, compelling chapters that keep readers interested and turning pages. His skillful use of vocabulary and ability to weave a fascinating tale make for a captivating narrative.

Powerballs is about the effect that a sudden influx of money can potentially have on one’s perspective on life, what they value and their mental health. What satisfaction can wealth bring? Will it solve problems or create them? Can money buy happiness? Ask Henry and Rose Ball these questions. They know from experience.