Andrew Wilson (9) (1967–)

This book picks up right where the Titanic leaves off, literally. We are privy to some survivors final moments on the ship before stepping into the lifeboats. Then we explore their lives post-Titanic. The stories are fascinating in their scope and rich in differences. We have the full spectrum of first class, second class, and third class.

However, one of the drawbacks of the book is the author's writing style. He wasn't shy about inserting his personal opinions about some of the survivors, show more particularly the first class passengers, of whom it appears he thought very little. Madeleine Astor's post-Titanic life is described as "a life too far-fetched for fiction". And Edith Rosenbaum (Russell) is castigated as someone with a huge ego and mania for being the Titanic survivors' "survivor". The author mentions an interview she gave for radio in which she says "I sunk the Titanic." That is the full extent of the direct quote he uses. I have listened to this interview, which is available on YouTube, and there is so much more contained in that sentence. So, it seems he tried to mold her to fit the image he had of her.

The rest of the passengers are given much leniency for the ways they conducted their post-Titanic lives. Post-traumatic stress syndrome (disorder) is given as the reason. However, if this can be given to those passengers, why can't it be applied to the likes of Madeleine Astor and Edith Rosenbaum for the way the Titanic shaped their lives and how they made decisions?

Also, the author likes to use big fancy words, particularly the word "verisimilitude", which is used a number of times.

If you can get past the author's obvious bias, there are some real gems to be mined here. However, the author seems to have an ego every bit as big as the one he accuses Edith Rosenbaum of having. show less

Patricia Highsmith (1921-1995) is best known for her disturbing books about sensitive and sympathetic psychopathic murderers (i.e. "Strangers on a Train" and "The Talented Mr. Ripley") - and for the movies they've inspired. Andrew Wilson's biography is fascinating, well researched and convincing; I don't know if I'd want to have dinner with Miss Highsmith, but at least I think I can understand a little "where she's coming from." The author Wilson would probably make a good novelist himself; show more he understands psychology, without being reductive or a follower of the Phil Donahue School of analysis. In many ways Highsmith was not a happy person, and she held many reprehensible beliefs about human nature and society, but she was a survivor, no doubt.

And she liked to read. I understand that, too. Here's Wilson describing Highsmith's fondness for solitary reading in her apartment - when she was in her early 20s:

"She had always been a voracious reader, but now she turned down invitations to dinner in favor of staying at home and immersing herself in the dark imaginative landscape of Thomas Mann, Strindberg, Goethe, Joyce, T.S. Eliot and Baudelaire. The mere thought that she was alone and surrounded by books gave her a near sensuous thrill. As she looked around her room, dark except for the slash of light near her lamp, and saw the vague outlines of her books, she asked herself, 'Have I not the whole world?'"

"Beautiful Shadow" is perhaps somewhat over-detailed, or maybe it just is that Highsmith's life lacks the kind of neat and tidy essence that makes for an elegant biography. On the other hand, Wilson is to be commended for his exhaustive research, AND for his ability to empathize with his subject, even at her most difficult. show less

One feels sorry for Adam Woods when he becomes a live-in assistant to an elderly recluse in Venice named Gordon Crace in Andrew Wilson's diabolical 2007 novel “The Lying Tongue.” After a few chapters, one begins to feel sorry for Crace. By the end we know they deserve each other.

Crace wrote a best-selling novel years before and survives on the continuing income from that one book. He never leaves his residence and hates being alone. He has a mysterious past involving the death of a young show more man, his former student. He delights in grisly stories about suffering and death. He can't bear for Adam to leave his side for more than a few minutes at a time.

Adam, the narrator, portrays himself at first as a recent college graduate who has recently broken up with his girlfriend. He goes to Venice to write a novel, and he hopes living with Crace will provide him with an opportunity to do just that.

As Adam reveals more and more about himself, however, we realize that he too has a dark past. He raped that girlfriend, for example. The young man lies so consistently that when he does tell the truth, he stops in his narrative to point it out. As he learns more and more about the secretive Crace, he decides to scrap his novel and write the man's biography, the last thing Crace would want. But a woman in England is already at work on a Crace biography, and Adam decides he must learn what she already knows and then stop her from finishing her own book.

Crace, meanwhile, turns out not to be the helpless old man Adam has come to believe, and in the end it becomes a question of which evil will prevail.

Wilson's ending disappoints a bit, although it does have the advantage of being surprising. If one is willing to accept a thriller without a hero, “The Lying Tongue” is a gem. show less

I don't know, I guess I read biographies now. Patricia Highsmith was a wild, supremely complicated person who directly antagonized seemingly everyone she was personally or professionally associated with at some point. Super problematic and difficult figure. But man, this overview of her life and work sure made me want to read more than the two novels I've read by her. The way she apparently wove her overall mental state and experiences into her fictional worlds was so fascinating to read show more about. It seems like diving into her diaries and letters would also be worthwhile, based on the (ample) bits that are present here. show less