Read Harder Challenge 2017: Part 3

I finally finished the next part of my Read Harder Challenge.  I finished:

• Read a book about books.
• Read a book that is set within 100 miles of your location.
• Read a collection of stories by a woman.

Simon & Schuster

Starting out, I finished reading The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu by Joshua Hammer, which details events beginning in 2012 when more than 350,000 manuscripts--many of which had been painstakingly collected by Abdel Kader Haidara--were endangered by Al Qaeda militants seizing control of Mali.  In his book, Hammer details how Haidara and other manuscript collectors managed to find, preserve, and rescue hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, before smuggling them out of the country under the noses of Al Qaeda.

As the summary attests, it's indeed a "brazen heist worth of Ocean's Eleven."  Personally, I found it fascinating to learn how Haidara became involved in the manuscript preservation business and how he and other librarians managed to steal away more than 350,000 manuscripts from Timbuktu.  I mean, the number is simply mind boggling.

Moreover, I was consistently fascinated by the history and culture of Timbuktu and Mali as a whole.  Hammer offers a rich variety of details, discussing the medical, cultural, historical, scholastic and artistic impact of Timbuktu.  Although his work can grow a little dry, every chapter offers fascinating insight into the history of Timbuktu and, more importantly, provides readers with an eye-opening portrait of the conditions faced by Mali's residents when Al Qaeda invaded.

Cipher-Naught

Next, I checked out Beauty and the Mustache by Penny Reid.  Set in Tennessee, Beauty and the Mustache is a short, sweet little romance--which kicks off the Winston Brothers series and continues the Knitting in the City series, both by Penny Reid--that brings together Ashley Winston and Drew Runous.  After spending more than 8 years away from home, Ashley is forced to return to Tennessee to help take care of her ailing mother.  Expecting the same rough treatment from her brothers as from years before, she's surprised to learn they've changed.  She's even more surprised to meet their friend Drew, especially when she realizes he's exactly her type.

Overall, I really enjoyed reading Beauty and the Mustache.  Like I noted above, it's a short, sweet little romance and it's absolutely adorable.  It's sometimes bittersweet, sometimes tragic, but I immensely enjoyed reading Penny Reid's novel.  I found I connected to Ashley, our main character and narrator, on a personal level and I admired her sharp, sarcastic sense of humor, her intelligence, and her ability to go toe-to-toe with Drew's philosophical meanderings.

However, I will note I was bothered by one thing:  I did not like the setting.  I love the Smoky Mountains, don't get me wrong; however, I simply didn't like the narrator's inability to describe her surroundings.  I was incredibly disappointed by the setting descriptions, which were seriously lacking.  I wanted to hear more about the winding roads, the multitude of trees, the softly sloping mountains in the distance, or the way the hills fade against the horizon, deepening to a slate blue before disappearing altogether.

I wanted to hear about places I've known or seen, but, sadly, I didn't get that chance.  It was slightly disappointing.

Anchor

Last, I read Moral Disorder by Margaret Atwood.  I think I might have fudged the challenge parameters with this one, since it's really just a single novel; however, as it's labeled with "Other Stories," I assumed it would do the trick.  It centers around one woman--Nell--but it's a compilation of many short stories from different points in her life.

It begins with "Bad News," toward the tail end of Nell's life, but it jumps through time with each story and catapults Nell into the past, showing readers glimpses of her childhood and her adolescence and, finally, her transition into adulthood.

Truthfully, I didn't enjoy reading Moral Disorder that much.  Atwood is a fantastic writer and her prose packs a punch when she wants it, but, personally, I found I couldn't always connect with the stories in Moral Disorder, I couldn't always connect to Tig and Nell.  Granted, when I did connect with one of these stories, it moved me deeply and I worried for Nell, like I'd worry for a friend; however, I found it was a rather unremarkable journey for me overall.

The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu: And Their Race to Save the World's Most Precious Manuscripts

Simon & Schuster

The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu:  And Their Race to Save the World's Most Precious Manuscripts
Joshua Hammer
2016

The Summary
"To save precious centuries-old Arabic texts from Al Qaeda, a band of librarians in Timbuktu pulls off a brazen heist worthy of Ocean's Eleven.

"In the 1980s, a young adventurer and collector for a government library, Abdel Kader Haidara, journeyed across the Sahara and along the Niger River, tracking down and salvaging tens of thousands of ancient Islamic and secular manuscripts that were crumbling in the trunks of desert farmers.  His goal was to preserve this crucial part of the world's patrimony in a gorgeous library.  But then Al Qaeda showed up at the door.

"The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu tells the incredible story of how Haidara, a mild mannered activist and historian from the legendary city of Timbuktu, became one of the world's greatest and most brazen smugglers by saving the texts from destruction.  With bravery and patience, he organized a dangerous operation to sneak all 350,000 volumes out of the city to the safety of southern Mali.  This real-life thriller is a reminder that ordinary citizens often do the most to protect the beauty and imagination of their culture.  It is also the story of a man who, through extreme circumstances, discovered his higher calling and was changed forever by it."

The Good
I enjoyed reading The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu.  First and foremost, I had the chance to learn about some amazing librarians who did extraordinary things (I always like learning about librarians); second, I learned so much about Timbuktu and Mali, which I enjoyed.  I love learning about different regions and locales, and I was positively enchanted by Mali and the beautiful manuscripts Abdel Kader Haidara uncovers.

I love books.  I especially love old books.  They're beautiful and precious, and I was enthralled by the simple history and content of the hundreds of manuscripts that Haidara saved.  Joshua Hammer had a way of describing the manuscripts that made me want to reach out and hold them, to run my fingers over the pages and see the full-colored details painstakingly drawn upon their pages.

I was dying to view one for myself and feel the weight of history in my hands.

It's a consistent feeling throughout the book.  Hammer gives these manuscripts--and the men and women who saved them--a great significance.  They feel important, crucial to the preservation of history and culture and memory.

You get the feeling that Hammer is passionate about this story.  He wants to tell readers about the incredible librarians who preserved history against all odds, about the city and country that suffered under Al Qaeda, about the small community that banded together to survive unspeakable tragedy.  Truly, it's awe-inspiring to read.

The Bad
No complaints.

It's a bit slow on the build up, but it's a fascinating and thoughtful inspection on a region of the world with which I'm unfamiliar.  I was excited to learn more about Mali's wonderful and colorful history, to hear more about Haidara's unprecedented rescue mission of more than 350,000 books and manuscripts.

The Ugly
The violence this region endured is staggering.

Mali, particularly Timbuktu, was a thriving haven for artists, musicians, tourists, religious leaders, educators, and historians.  Regular festivals were held in honor of local music and musicians, and museums sprang up to celebrate the social, scholarly, medical, and cultural history of Mali.  And yet almost over night everything changed with the arrival of Al Qaeda.

Strict religious and social laws, appalling punishments, brutal behavior, cruelty, and that's just the tip of the iceberg.  They killed and maimed those they believed broke their laws; they restricted local businesses and workers, imposing harsh strictures, and all but killed Mali's economy; they defaced monuments and burned books, art, and more, destroying anything they saw as challenging their leadership.  They effectively tried to erase Mali's history and impose their own.

It's horrifying to witness these things.  I mean, I found it heartbreaking to see Timbuktu have its entire culture and history reworked through a lens of bigotry and hate, to witness innocent people lose their homes, their businesses, their limbs and their very lives for a philosophy of violence.  It's painful, and it's what makes The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu such a hard book to read and discuss.

The Prince

Prestwick House Literary Touchstone Press

The Prince
Niccolo Machiavelli
1532

The Summary
Written in the 16th century by Italian diplomat and political theorist Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince (or Il Principe) is a political treatise on the responsibilities of the aristocracy and the rights of principalities.  Although published after his death in 1527, The Prince made waves for its use of common language (Italian, rather than traditional Latin) and its unexpected expressions on modern philosophy and politics.

The Good
The Prince is intriguing and innovative for its time.  I can appreciate it more now that I've had the opportunity to read a little more about its history, as well as its impact.  It's a book that defied convention and, more importantly, defined an entire genre on political tracts and political philosophy.

The Bad
I did not like reading The Prince.  I know part of that is because I purchased a translation that was--well, let's say less than spectacular.  While I was reading, I noticed little mistakes.  Some were simple typos, but a few were glaring grammar mistakes.  It's almost like the original Italian text was just fed through Google and published even with the transcription mistakes.

Plus I was so bored ALL THE TIME.  (Sorry for the capitals, I just feel that statement needed extra emphasis.)  It took me literal weeks to finish reading The Prince, even though it was only 114 pages.  I just couldn't keep up with it.  I was bored by it after only a few pages, and I couldn't stand reading it after I realized I couldn't consider the text reliable.

It was terrible.

I finished the book only because I needed a book on politics as one of the requirements for my Read Harder Challenge.  But, honestly, I wouldn't subject anyone to my copy of The Prince.  I would read it again for a college course, if necessary; otherwise, I don't think I'd ever read it again if I didn't have to read it.

Put simply, it's not the best reading experience I've ever had.  Not the absolute worst, but it's a close second.

The Ugly
Bad translations and boredom.