An Indulgence of book
I indulged myself on Thursday and bought a couple of books. One was another of the Lois McMaster Bujold series about Miles Vorkosigan that I am gradually acquiring; a thoroughly enjoyable operatic space romp. The other was “1945”, an alternate history novel that carries the name ‘Newt Gingrich’ on the cover.

I had heard all the brouhaha about this book when it was first released on an unsuspecting readership, but had not been in a position or inclination to pick it up from the local library at the time. I think I was put off by the way in which it was hailed as a ‘great novel’ in such a sycophantic manner by several people who I was aware shared Gingrich’s politics, something that I have had difficulty understanding over the years (and not just because I am an Australian and he was the Leader of the House of Representatives to the US Congress). Spotting it on the remainder table reminded me of the Clive James poem “When I see my enemy’s book”. So I indulged a whole $2.45 on it.

I was pleasantly surprised by the way in which the story actually hung together. Although the characterisation of the All American Hero was a little too clean cut, and the nastiness of the Nazis was a little too unsavoury, I found myself wondering what happened after ‘our hero’ got to put his plans into action.

For cardboard cutout action heroes wearing the appropriate coloured headgear, I was surprised to find that I had enjoyed the story after all. But somehow, I don’t think I shall actively go looking for the sequels to Mr Gingrich’s book. I would far rather track down the McMaster ones I don’t have.