100 books like Cutter and Bone

I remember summers growing up when we were out of the house seeking freedom from parents as we streamed toward our teenage years, so I can identify with this story’s start. We’d follow deer trails through brush and trees to spots up in the hills we’d claimed as our own. This book begins with a prologue made vivid with three children and Tana French’s gorgeous prose.

The children go up and over a rock wall and into “A summer full-throated and extravagant in a hot pure silk skin blue…your tongue tasting of chewed blades of long grass, your own clean sweat…” “…long slow twilight and mothers silhouetted in doorways…” and the haunted last sentence, “These children will not be coming of age, this or any other summer.”

I’ve long been a fan of James Lee Burke’s novels. His lyrical and likely heartfelt descriptions of Louisiana’s land, water, and people offset and illuminate the contrasting violence. Burke acknowledges the darkness in humanity and the possibility of redemption.

Into that mix goes Dave Robicheaux, the protagonist, who had his own ups and downs. Robicheaux can read between the lines and keeps a pretty clear eye on the truth. Here’s the opening sentence of this book, Robicheaux narrating in his own way:

“Years ago, in state documents, Vachel Carmouche was always referred to as the electrician, never the executioner.”

We all make choices we later have to live with. Back from war and trained as an Army ranger, Quinn Colson is the sheriff now in Tibbehah, Mississippi, and finds himself hunting an old high school friend turned arms dealer. When you open this book, it’s already flowing, a feel of which I love. It’s as if you’re not watching; you’re already in the boat and can hear the roar of the coming rapids. Colson is in motion. He’s on the hunt. Here’s the way the novel starts,                      

“A couple of roustabouts had been asking about guns at the Tibbehah County fair, but by the time the word had gotten back to Donnie Varner, they’d long since packed up their Ferris wheel, corn dog stands and shit, and boogied down the highway.”

I don’t know of anyone else who so captures time, place, and the idiosyncratic language of the moment that we tend to shake our heads at years later but is exactly right at the time. Winslow is a magician with the nuances.

Here’s how the novel opens in Laguna Beach, California. "Is what O is thinking as she sits between Chon and Ben on a bench at Main Beach and picks out potential mates for them. "That one?" she asks, pointing at a classic BB (Basically Baywatch) strolling down the Boardwalk." "Chon shakes his head." And further down, "O was made for sunshine.' "California girl."

I live in California. I grew up here. Winslow captures the moment. Future historians should read him.

This riveting memoir will take you into the world of a young non-communist nationalist, Nguyen Cong Luan, whose father joined Ho Chi Minh in 1945 to fight the French colonialists despite distrusting Ho’s communist core.

Luan’s father dies in a communist prison shortly thereafter, leaving his son to grow up largely on his own in dangerous areas contested by the French, the communists, and the non-communists. What makes Luan’s account so eye-opening is that he shows that the communists led by Ho Chi Minh were not the only nationalists to fight during some thirty years of war. The non-communists did, too, as his own journey into adulthood and the army of South Vietnam reveals.

At a deeper level, Nguyen Cong Luan reminds us that though the struggle for Vietnam was a French and American one, at its core, it was a civil war among the Vietnamese. 

Some of us marry our childhood sweetheart, while others carry a lifelong torch for a love that seems unattainable. For Inez Victor—married to a U.S. Senator and failed Presidential candidate, a woman who has spent her entire adult life being photographed—the memories of Jack Lovett come in and out of focus like a camera lens. For decades, the two of them nurture a fantasy that finally explodes into the open with the force of the munitions that Lovett sells to governments around the world.

This is a useful book to understand the basic problems and achievements of a socialist country’s move towards a globalized and free market system.

This book is a version of the authors’ previous work published by the South East Asia Institute. As a contribution to the specific theme, it first provides a description of Vietnam’s reforms and development. It also discusses a number of special features of this policy, including outcomes, pro and con analysis, and obstacles. 

As the representative of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of the Republic of South Vietnam at the Paris Peace Conference, Nguyen Thi Binh inspired women’s rights activists around the world. Charged with forwarding efforts toward people-to-people diplomacy, Binh met with antiwar activists from all over the world, including the United States, as she negotiated for peace through official channels. With Binh’s high-level position, the reality of her experiences have often been obscured and misconstrued by people on all sides of the U.S. war in Vietnam. Thus, her memoir provides much-needed insight into her family background, her role in resisting France, her leadership in the National Liberation Front during the U.S. war, and her position in the Vietnamese government following the fall of Saigon.

This book is hard to find and only available in Vietnam currently.

This work is thorough and informative on the US invasion and defeat but unlike many books on the war also provides extensive discussion of Vietnam’s long history, which dates back more than two millennia. It covers Vietnam’s contentious relations with China and France.

By jetting a privileged California tween of Vietnamese descent into her extended family in Hanoi, Thanhhà Lai creates all kinds of expectations and then delightfully subverts them, educating and entertaining readers at the same time.

Although most of the book is about Mai’s culture shock and gradual adjustment, her frail grandmother Bà remains the emotional center of the story. Bà’s loss of her husband during the Vietnam War and her journey to reclaim his secret last message build the story into a dramatic climax unlike any I’ve ever encountered.