The Emperor's Last Island and Skeleton Coast - Take 2

I had a love-hate relationship with The Emperor's Last Island. The "hate" portion began early in the book when the author tells us that, despite writing a whole book about Saint Helena, she's never been there.  That seems like a pretty basic part of the research - introductory, even - and I couldn't figure out why someone would so proudly put their shortcomings front and center.

There was enough "love," though, to get me to overlook that and keep going. And I'm glad I did, because the bits about Napoleon's life on Saint Helena were worth the read. I learned a lot of detail that would later come back to me during the audio tours we took at The Briars or Longwood House, but frankly it was more entertaining to discover them in the book.

Eventually, the author did come back around to her personal experience visiting Saint Helena. Again, first I started on the "hate" side of the spectrum, not wanting it to tum into an autobiography. But I have to give credit where it's due, and it's due here. Ms. Blackbum does a nice job of beginning the chapters with a vignette from her own travels, but working rather quickly back to Napoleon's story and sticking there for the remainder of the chapter.

This one gets good marks for being informative and educational, even if not thrilling.  It gets bonus points because it also fits the bill to be my March 2026 Reading Challenge book: a book with a possessive noun in the title.  So, yay!  Even further ahead of schedule than I was last week!

Skeleton Coast was brought the thrills.  It's the story of the wreck of the Dunedin Star off the coast of what was then South West Africa (now Namibia) during World War II. More than that, though, it's the story of all the people who braved the environment and elements on what might still be the world's most deserted stretch of unforgiving coastline to come to the aid of the stranded strip and its passengers.

The suspense, the will-they-or-won't-they of the rescue attempts, keeps the plot moving steadily forward, even if the travails of the overland convoy which gets stuck in the sand every 20 feet or so is somewhat repetitive. 

It's a quick, entertaining, and somewhat astonishing story of the willingness of so many people to risk their own lives to save complete strangers.

What I'm Reading Now -- Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking

My February 2026 Reading Challenge selection, and a book I've been meaning to read for years, is Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. 

I am at least 95% introvert, according to every Myers-Briggs test I have ever taken.  I acutely feel the pressure, especially professionally, to behave like an outgoing, boisterous extrovert for far more hours in a day or week than I would care to. (And, lest there be any confusion, the number of hours in any given day or week that I would care to act that way is precisely zero.)

So, I'm interested to hear what Ms. Cain has to say to or about folks like me.  Hopefully I can learn some good tricks.

The Midnight Feast -- Take 2

My first venture into the Lucy Foley mystery canon turned out to be entertaining but a week later totally forgettable. 

The Midnight Feast is one of those stories in which some wronged individual comes back to their hometown 15 years later for a reckoning with the evil doer.  The tendrils of the story of course snake and curl and tangle around each other, and several of the characters are not the people they are pretending to be.  But isn't that what makes these stories work?  You always need that last-minute reveal in order for the pieces to all fall into place.  If not for that wild card, that person who needs to act in a way that their character up to the last thirty pages doesn't support, none of the wicked would be vanquished. 

A week on, I have to think hard to remember what happened.  But it was a quick and entertaining read while I was in it. 

What I'm Reading Now -- Skeleton Coast and The Emperor's Last Island

Continuing my literary march across the world's southern oceans, I've simultaneously picked up two books to poke through now that I'm finished with The Reader's Companion to South Africa.

First up is Skeleton Coast, by John Marsh.  It's the tale of a shipwreck and subsequent rescue off the coast of Namibia, also known as the Skeleton Coast for reasons which I think are at least partially obvious from the subject of the book.  (There are also a lot of whales that wash up dead along that shore, also inspiring its name.)

Skeleton Coast looks like a pretty short read.  It's not a great candidate to carry around with me, though, as it was published in 1954 and requires a bit of TLC when it comes to handling.

So for my walking-around book, I have the ebook version of The Emperor's Last Island.  Napoleon is famous for many things, among them that he was exiled from France not once, but twice.  The first time, he was cast out by the British after several notable failures in his Napoleonic Wars campaign and was sent to the island of Elba in 1814.  Somehow, despite being under heavy British guard, he escaped and returned to France. After being soundly defeated at the Battle of Waterloo, Napoleon was again exiled in 1815, this time to the distant and isolated island of St. Helena, located smack in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean.  Napoleon died there in 1821.

The Emperor's Last Island, as best as I can tell, is a recounting based on what historical records exist of what those six years on St. Helena were like for the exiled Frenchman. 

What I'm Reading Now -- The Midnight Feast

I've had Lucy Foley's book The Guest List on my to-read list for some time.  More recently, I added The Paris Apartment as well.  But those two only made it onto the list because I am, it seems, on a never-ending quest to find good mysteries.  So when someone offered up a copy of The Midnight Feast for the taking, I thought I would give it a go. 

I feel like it's a win-win situation. Either I like it and I already have two more of hers in the queue, or I don't like it and then perhaps I decide not to mess with the other two.  We'll see how it goes!

The Reader's Companion to South Africa -- Take 2

As is to be expected with a compilation of essays - and in fact as I specifically anticipated in my first post related to The Reader's Companion to South Africa, some of the pieces contained herein were better than others. 

The essays, as a rule, are an outsider's take on various aspects of South Africa: politics, geography, geology, people, history, you name it.  I muddled my way through all of them, but some of my favorites were by Mark Twain, Frank Carpenter, H.V. Morton, and P.J. O'Rourke; they all have wonderful senses of humor.

(Aside: I'm especially excited to have enjoyed the H.V. Morton selection.  I don't know how it is that I've been interested in vintage travelogues for so long and haven't run across him, but somehow I hadn't until very recently.  But once I did, based solely on the reading of a few first sentences of books, I went a bit berserk and probably have a dozen of his books now. I haven't read any of them yet, but my enjoyment of this selection makes me very excited to dive into them!)

Despite a few duds, overall the collection was a good introduction to how South Africa came to be what it is.  The editorial lead-in at the start of each essay was especially helpful in adding some context.  My biggest criticism is that the collection is heavily, if not entirely, comprised of works by foreigners visiting South Africa.  That may be because the perspective allows for a certain clarity of observation which is more difficult for a local.  Regardless, a piece or two by an actual South African might have been a nice addition. 

Wolf Hall - Take 2

Well, I've done it!  On my second attempt, I got through Wolf Hall.  And this just goes to show that the timing of reading is everything.  I tried Wolf Hall on audio once before and found it rather dull.  But this time - mostly on audio - I really enjoyed it and found some parts quite funny!  (When I didn't have headphones handy, I read some portions as an ebook, and for whatever it's worth, I found the audiobook easier to follow.)

In case you've been living under a rock while Hilary Mantel published her critically-acclaimed trilogy, of which Wolf Hall is the first, it's the fictionalized story of Oliver Cromwell's rise to power (and the corresponding fall of Thomas More) during the many-wived reign of King Henry VIII, though this particular book only covers the period encompassing two of said wives. 

As I said, there are parts that are very funny and brilliantly written.  One should have some interest in political maneuvering in order to truly enjoy them, but certainly they can be appreciated even if you lack such interest, as I do.  My interest in British history probably helped keep me engaged, so if you lack both an interest in politics and in British history, this one might not be for you.

Am I going to jump to read the other two books?  Probably not.  There's too much other stuff I need to read.  But will I try to get there eventually?  Probably. 

And, for those keeping track at home, Wolf Hall is on my 2026 Reading Challenge, so I'm presently (and probably for the only time this year) ahead of schedule!

What I'm Reading Now -- The Reader's Companion to South Africa

On the first day of our 10-day Cape Town vacation, S and I popped into Clarke's Bookshop.  I found two different short histories of South Africa and was debating between the two when I found The Reader's Companion to South Africa.

It's a collection of excerpts from various pieces of writing about the country.  They're arranged chronologically, beginning in 1850 and running up through 1997. I expect some will be better - or at least more to my taste - than others, but just like short films, even if they're bad, they don't go on too long.  Each piece is accompanied by an introduction written by the book's editor; those little intros provide context and a tiny taste of the history I was looking for in the original books I picked up. 

What I Read -- The Last Brother

Apparently I'm in a place where books about psychological trauma speak to me. How should I interpret this?

Another book set in Mauritius, The Last Brother is a story of innocence, sadness, and regret. Though it is pocked with moments of pure childhood joy, it is mostly a tale of loss and hardship.

As a reader, you learn at the very beginning that the narrator, Raj, is now an old man. You also learn that he tragically lost his childhood friend David when David was ten. What unfolds are the other tragedies that led Raj to David in the first place, and of course the story of their friendship and David's death.

Though this is a work of fiction, it's based on a little-known but true corner of WWII Mauritian history, so of course I'm predisposed to like it. What really put it overthe top for me was the balance between Raj's current adult voice - full of wisdom and regret - and his childhood memories coming through in exactly the way a child would remember them - earnest, innocent, pure. It's one of those stories that can only be fully inhabited by the characters when told in retrospect.  It's beautiful and bittersweet.

What I Read -- LaRose

Someone gave me a copy of LaRose a little bit ago. The conceit behind the central conflict sounded like a fascinating way to explore the complicated relationships between characters,  so I wanted to dive right in.  

Within the first few pages, a man accidentally shoots and kills his attenuated nephew (his wife's half-sister's son) in a hunting accident. As part of an ancient Native American tradition, the hunter and his wife send their own son to live with the bereaved family.  Both families also have other children.  One can imagine how complicated these relationships get, and quickly. 

And boy, was it a good read.  For a story about psychological trauma, it is surprisingly propulsive. Sometimes difficult, sometimes funny,  sometimes oh-so-true; always really engaging. 

If the concept sounds at all interesting to you, I recommend it.