The Swallow's Nest

Review: Making Jack Falcone

I've always been fascinated by the mob. What guy hasn't? The psychology of it is what intrigues me the most, but there is something to be said for the gangster who can walk into a restaurant and take over the place, pull a tight wad of hundred dollar bills out of his pocket to pay his own bill and the tab of anyone else in the joint he happens to like, and hug his short, fat Italian mother while she slaps a few wet kisses on his flabby cheeks before he steps outside for a smoke between the main course and dessert. This makes me wonder what it would be like to be a wiseguy. That's what convinced me to buy, and it turns out love, the Making of Jack Falcone: An Undercover FBI Agent Takes Down a Mafia Family.  

But the twist in this story that adds a layer of intrigue is how one FBI agent could be talented enough to infiltrate not one but several crime rings and make a difference for his country by taking down criminals too numerous to list here. Talk about talent and using one's abilities to make the world a safer, better place! This is an autobiography, and a fascinating one at that. Joaquin "Jack" Garcia is a Cuban born American with a talent for acting, bluffing, and out smarting that allows him to get on the inside of the Gambino crime family in New York and work the case as a friend and confidante to Greg DePalma who was so high up in the family he once cared for the famous criminal John Gotti when Gotti was in prison. Talk about pulling the wool over people's eyes, this is a well told story that makes the mob look flat out dumb.

You're thinking, "this has the mixings of a movie, not a book." Well, you'd be right and wrong at the same time. It will be a movie soon under the direction of Steven Soderbergh (who I really like) and if it's done right it will hold its weight with other famous mob movies like The Godfather, Wiseguys, Goodfellas, The Untouchables and Donnie Brasco. But a lot of people have seen those films and walked away from the theatre wanting to be in the mafia. The feeling I took away from this book was that I wanted to be in law enforcement stopping these crooks. See the difference? Why be a mobster when you can police these punks right to prison? If you want to stay on the good side of the law, but still be associated with the mafia Agent Garcia shows the way.

And he doesn't pull any punches revealing how incompetent the FBI and other agencies can be. He's willing to call out by name people in the bureaucracy that didn't do their jobs very well or who made bad decisions with cases in order to promote themselves up the ladder. Being an undercover agent is hard work. The consequences are death of you screw up, and by working multiple cases undercover Garcia risked his life every moment of the day and night. You read about it in this book. So don't wait for the movie. If you're interested in what really happens in these families or if you're just looking for something exciting to read before bed, I recommend Garcia's story. The making and unmaking of Jack Falcone is captivating. And it's non-fiction. I spent a little time every several chapters looking up names of the gangsters on-line to see if they were still in prison, if they were still alive, what they are doing now, etc. You can tell I was taken by the story. And there is a lot of good information on the Internet that's fun to read. 

Here's a cut from my favorite chapter (8 "A Cry for Help From the Bronx") in which he describes the mafia. Listen to how he can go from describing the seriously scary aspects of their nature to the funny and ordinary:

"The reality is that these people [the mobsters] aren't wonderful and they aren't generous. Greg DePalma told me over and over again that for a made man, his crime family comes ahead of his blood family. He told me often that if your kid was on the operating table, and your boss called you in, you had to immediately leave the hospital and report to him. You could send flowers later to your kid's funeral...They also kissed each other on the cheek a lot. Why can't wiseguys just shake hands? I could have lived without all that kissing...For guys who care little for how much they weigh, they certainly put a great deal of emphasis on personal grooming...The first time I went out with the fellas for a manicure, I had to get over the initial shock of doing something that is perceived as not masculine...I also had to get a regular haircut and shave...Mob guys are well versed in the finer things of life...They're also into fine tailoring...They had to have the right shoes too...wiseguys were extremely conscious of the status that various aspects of fine clothing and jewelry bestow...Mob guys, incidentally, never buy retail [120-123]."   

What I liked about this book: the psychology of being a mobster and the psychology of being an undercover agent; I like the author himself - he seemed real, down-to-earth, honest, and he served as an inspiration to me to lose weight; and I liked that Garcia was an immigrant to the States who took advantage of his education and natural abilities to do good and to defend innocent people in New York, Miami, and elsewhere. He should have gotten a lot more credit for all his hard work. 

What I did not like about this book: the language can be rough (par for the course in the criminal world and necessary for a book like this, but still); I wish he had spent a little more time developing the unmaking of Falcone; and the book seemed a bit rushed at the end. That could be more the editor's fault than the author's. 

Birthday is for Books

Last week for my birthday I got the best presents anyone can give me: books. One lovely couple brought me a gift certificate to Page One here in Hong Kong and I love the way this bookstore promoted reading on the card and again on the little, high tech certificate itself. The card read:

Even if you read books every day, you'll still never finish reading all the books in the world. 

But do make it a ritual.

The certificate reads:

Brush your teeth twice a day - Read 2 books a day - Every toothbrush begins with Page One

Book Mark

This week's question: does your house have a communal bookshelf? If not, is your bookshelf centrally located so everyone has access to it? 

Yes & yes. As my beloved will tell you our house has books everywhere. There are two large bookshelves in the dining room/living room and then we built in a large shelf into the wall in the office/study. All of these official shelves are stacked and stocked with books. Then I am using the large bay window sills in the study and bedroom to stack more of the library. So visitors could see a lot of the collection, but not all of it unless they were nosy. And this doesn't count what I am currently reading, which is scattered around my desk, one book is on the window sill by the television and then I have a small credenza near the dining room table that has some reads chilling out on it. Put it this way: come to our home and it will be obvious I'm a reader. 

Tales from the Bookstore

This evening I went spotting at the Hong Kong Airport and, as is my custom, I dropped into the airport bookstore. Often I find the books there are more expensive (duh!) but they also have newer titles and often they come out in paperback first at the airport (duh again). This evening one booked jumped off the new rack by the front door. The color and picture on the cover captured my attention. The book is The Men Who Stare at Goats. For the life of me I could not figure out where I had heard about this book before, and then it hit me. A film by the same title is about to be released in Hong Kong (next week) and I saw the poster for it down at IFC Mall in Central. 

I read the first chapter and I'm kind of intrigued by it. It is the true story of a division within the U.S. military of psychic spies. Here's a little description from Amazon, "As Ronson reveals, a secret wing of the U.S. military called First Earth Battalion was created in 1979 with the purpose of creating 'Warrior Monks,' soldiers capable of walking through walls, becoming invisible, reading minds and even killing a goat simply by staring at it. Some of the characters involved seem well-meaning enough, such as the hapless General Stubblebine, who is 'confounded by his continual failure to walk through his wall.' But Ronson (Them: Adventures with Extremists) soon learns that the Battalion's bizarre ideas inspired some alarming torture techniques being used in the present-day War on Terror."

Now I wish I bought the book when I had the chance. When will I learn? I have not seen it anywhere else in my city bookstores and I do not feel like going back out to the airport anytime soon, although that could change. This story sounds fascinating - kind of a mix between paranormal, adventure, and mystery. 

Have you heard about it? Read it? Seen the movie? 

Tales from the Bookstore

Last week my beloved and I were entertaining our nephew for the evening. We took him for ice cream after dinner and not far from the Haagen Dazs is Metro Books. For some reason or another he got the impression I wanted a book for my upcoming birthday. "You're a smart little guy," I was thinking to myself secretly wishing my adult friends could read my mind like he can. "Of course I want a book." So after dinner he told my wife that only he and I were going to look at books for a few minutes before he went home to bed. He ran up the escalator to the bookstore and I followed as quickly as I could. 

When we got inside my nephew (aged 5) promptly began pulling softcovers off the shelf and asking "what about this one, Uncle Mark?" We were in the chick lit section so I told him "these are girl books" and he asked "where are the boy books?" After I pointed him in the right direction he became obsessed with a Robert Ludlum novel (the title alludes me now). When he informed me he was actually buying me this book for my birthday I told him I would love a book, "but how about this one?" It was City of Thieves. He wasn't pleased with my selection but he suggested we go get his Aunt so she could help him pay for it. Then he informed me, "actually, text her. It's faster." Well, OK, Mr. 5-Year-Old! 

My wife, always the cautious one, had followed us into the store anyway. She gave him the HK$78 and he waddled his little self up to the counter, reluctantly giving up on the Ludlum novel, and bought me City of Thieves. But, he then announced he had to take it home "and show Mommy and Daddy so they don't buy you the same book." It was time for me to be a mature adult and part with my gift and give it to him (albeit that requiring a kick in the shins from my wife!). He shoved it in his backpack. I yelped at how rough he was being with it. It went home with him and I went home empty handed with a promise that, in the end, that sucker will be mine.

Now fast forward to the next morning at 6.30AM. Sound asleep we hear my mobile phone ringing. Bleary eyed, I answer. "Uncle, this book has 428 pages." Click. Well, I hope he didn't count each page. I went back to bed and tried to sleep, but the boy's Auntie rolled over and asked, "was that him? So early?" "Yes, babe. That was him." And then we both got up and the day was underway. Cute (all but the early morning phone call part). And another tale from the bookstore. 

Do You Believe?

Do you believe in ghosts? Halloween has just passed and Larry King had an interesting show on Friday night (Saturday morning in Hong Kong) in which he interviewed several people related to ghost appearances, ghost whispers, the paranormal, and the spiritual. I was sucked in from beginning to end. But what really hooked me on the topic was the story of Eastern Airlines flight 401. Have you heard of this? Apparently when this plane went down on December 29, 1972 in Florida the captain died, and returned to haunt Eastern Airlines for many more years to come. 

Since I had absolutely no idea about this air accident or the supposed haunting I decided to read about it for myself, but not immediately on the World Wide Web. Instead I am placing an order for this and this. There is something about an unsolved mystery, an airplane accident, and a ghost that intrigues me and (I think) will make for good reading and watching. Delayed gratification. I've barred myself from reading the Wikipedia entry on the matter, and I'm going to anticipate receiving these resources so I can dig in. It will be fun. Something to look forward to.

But that was just an honorable mention during the show. King interviewed Dan Aykroyd and his father Peter. Together, they are authors of this new book. You may think, "well of course he had on Aykroyd. The movie Ghostbusters is one of the all-time classics." But did you know the Aykroyd's believe (sincerely) in ghosts and Peter is a regular at seances? They have studied ghosts (what they prefer to call spirits) for generations. That was an interesting nugget since I just assumed Dan was in the movie because he is a good actor. But the more they talked on LKL the more I wondered about the connection of their idea of spirits and my own ideas about spirits, formed mainly (in my case) by my faith in Christ and awareness of evil spirits that fight in vain with Jesus for my soul. What is the connection between spirits and ghosts? 

Larry also hosted the guys from the television series on Discovery Channel Ghost Lab. These two sure do have an intriguing set of stories where they actually record supposed ghosts on film and also the voices of ghosts. King had them show how a hotel down south in the U.S. is haunted by Civil War veterans. They had footage which looked like a woman from that time period in the hallway and they use some souped new technology to record voices (in this case of some Civil War General). You may be thinking what I would normally think, "Doubt it. Doesn't happen. Figment of their imagination." I am generally skeptical as well. Ghost lab guys claim ghosts are an energy that leaves a person when they die, and this energy cannot die. So the person returns and speaks and appears and scares the living daylights out of those they haunt. Well, these guys and many other producers of t.v shows think this is real. Doing all of it for a buck and some ratings? Maybe? Most likely? I don't know, but it sure was interesting. (And there are dozens of other shows, just like this one, tracing ghosts. Check your local listings.)

What was less interesting was guest Joan Rivers who claims her NYC apartment was haunted by the previous owner until she called in a spiritist that cleansed it, and until she hung up a portrait of the old woman in her foyer. Now the deceased former owner is happy and doesn't come through the pad at night while Rivers is sleeping scaring the fur off her dogs and locking doors, etc. 

But seriously, why does this fascinate so many people? Why am I getting subtly sucked in to at least explore the reality of ghosts and/or spirits? Beyond the fear and the mystery and the unknown I do just wonder. My conviction still is there is no such a thing as a ghost, but there most certainly are spirits. We need not fear them. We have all the protection we need in Jesus Christ. But I think an exploration of Larry's topic sure will make for an interesting study and I'll come back later to report what I find out, especially about Eastern Airlines 401. 

Until then...

Book Mark

This week's question: how much of your reading do you share with others (outside of blogging)? Do you belong to a book or library club? Do you trade books with friends? Do you tell others what you are reading?

In most ways my passion for books is a private endeavor. I have friends who are readers, but we never seem to have a really long or in-depth conversation about what we are reading. There have been times when I have wondered about being a part of a book club, or starting such a group, but it hasn't happened yet. Because I am in and out of so many books (mood reader) I don't want to trudge through a book with a group that takes any longer than a few weeks. But maybe at some point I will write some friends and see if they want to do this. 

Hong Kong is not much of a reading culture (at least for non-academics). It's a business culture. Work reigns. So even if people have an interest in reading, they do not have time. And I will admit finding time to read can be a struggle for me as well. But I try to set boundaries so I am able to crawl up with a good book or I take my books on the road with me and read as I go. The Chinese are cracker jack smart (i.e. very smart), and some of this comes from reading but a lot of that was done in the context of school at various levels. Once work starts in earnest, time is a precious commodity. 

I do not trade books with anybody. My books are my books. Occasionally I will loan a book to a friend, but only if they promise to take good care of it, and if it comes back in one piece, then I remember and I am much more likely to loan another in the future. Through this blog I blast what I am reading to others. But generally I am not big on "and this week I am reading..." I figure if people care they will either ask or it will come up naturally in conversation. I do, however, wish more of my friends took an interest in reading or asking me about what I am reading. But again, this is not a reading city. 

Review: The Lost City of Z

No, I haven't started reading books that exclusively feature the word "lost" in the title (The Lost Symbol and now The Lost City of Z). But I do love a bit of a wild ride through an unsolved mystery, and this book has all that and more. The author combines the best of adventure and mystery and asks that creepy but fascinating question: what happened? And he does so using his brain and his brawn as he tracks the explorer Percy Fawcett's expeditions into the Amazon in search of a lost city that Fawcett calls "Z". Ultimately this leads the author himself to set sail for the jungle from where he dispatches this piece that's part history, part story, and part conjecture. 

The story of what happened to Percy Fawcett and his crew, including his son Brian, who disappeared and died in the Amazon in or after 1925 (the exact point of their deaths is a mystery) is full of intrigue, and David Grann is not the first to write about it or be obsessed with it. Several other explorers have lost their lives, or come close to it, looking for Percy and his boy, or in search of the same ancient lost city that P.H.F. (as Fawcett's wife Nina called him) so desperately sought because he believed it existed. Today the Internet is ripe with people that see history Fawcett's way and want proof of a civilization similar to that of Machu Picchu. Scientists, archeologists, and anthropologists will have to keep looking, because as of now no concrete, irrefutable proof exists of such a kingdom. But it's fun to think "what if?"  

What I like about Grann's approach, and what makes this book so enjoyable, is the way he mixes in his own journey to the places Fawcett visited some 80 years earlier by giving us a well told history of Fawcett, of the heartache and tribulations of exploration at that time, of the Royal Geographical Society (RGS), and of other explorers and the Indian people and tribes themselves. Listen to a simple, yet insightful passage on what Fawcett and his colleague Henry Costin once observed: 

"[Fawcett] was struck by the fact that, unlike the emaciated explorers, [the natives] had substantial resources of food. One Guarayo crushed a plant with a stone and let its juice spill into a stream, where it formed a milky cloud. 'After a few minutes a fish came to the surface, swimming in a circle, mouth gaping, and then turned on its back apparently dead,' Costin recalled. 'Soon there were a dozen fish floating belly up.' They had been poisoned. A Guarayo boy waded into the water and picked out the fattest ones for eating. The quantity of poison only stunned them and posed no risk to humans when the fish were cooked; equally remarkable, the fish that the boy had left in the water soon returned to life and swam away unharmed. The same poison was often used for toothaches. The Indians, Fawcett was discovering, were masters of pharmacology, adept at manipulating the environment to suit their needs, and he concluded that the Guarayos were 'a most intelligent race of people' [131]." 

And when Grann takes his own trip into the jungle he meets a very old Indian woman who knew of Fawcett in her younger years. He writes, "Before we said goodbye, she remembered something else about Fawcett. For years, she said, other people came from far away to ask about the missing explorers. She stared at me, her narrow eyes widening. 'What is it that these white people did?' she asked. 'Why is it so important for their tribe to find them [224]?"* 

 

What I liked about this book: the author. He's well written, well researched, and well traveled. He's obviously smart with the capacity to understand wide amounts of data, and then to discern it and to whittle it down in an understandable fashion for the rest of us. (I am sure his editors helped.) Scientist, investigative journalist, explorer, and historian. One of my new favorite authors. I'll have to start reading his writing in The New Yorker.  The pictures, mid-book, are great too. 

What I did not like about this book: only one thing. I thought Grann could have included more of his own journey than he did. I kept waiting for it but it only comes, in an all too brief way, near the end of these 277 pages. 

*That was my favorite line in the whole book. Second favorite was when Grann's interpreter/guide tells him, " 'Only the Indians respect the forest,' Paolo said. 'The white people cut it all down.' [218]" Sad but true.

Weather Nostalgia

Living 8,000 miles away from my boyhood home in a steamy tropical culture often makes me nostalgic for New England weather. As I write, over there leaves are burning orange and soon will limp to the ground and die. Off shore the mighty winds are blowing and snow has already made an early appearance. Oh how I miss it. That's why reading Steinbeck describe weather nostalgia was therapeutic today. He writes,

"I've lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate. In Cuernavaca, Mexico, where I once lived, and where the climate is as near to perfect as is conceivable, I have found that when people live there they usually go to Alaska. I'd like to see how long an Aroostook County man can stand Florida. The trouble is that with his savings moved and invested there, he can't very well go back. His dice are rolled and can't be picked up again. But I do wonder if a down-Easter, sitting on a nylon-and-aluminum chair out on a changelessly green lawn slapping misquitos in the evening of a Florida October-I do wonder if the stab of memory doesn't strike him high in the stomach just below the ribs where it hurts. And in the humid ever-summer I dare his picturing mind not to go back to the shout of color, to the clean rasp of frosty air, to the smell of pine wood burning and the caressing warmth of kitchens. For how can one know color in perpetual green, and what good is warmth without cold to give it sweetness [29]?" 

That is what I miss, "the clean rasp of frosty air...the caressing warmth of kitchens...color." 

Review: The Lost Symbol

The symbologist Robert Langdon returns and Dan Brown does it again. This is a fascinating, addictive, and page-turning read and as much as I don't like to jump on the bandwagon to read what everyone else seems to be reading, I'm glad I took a shot at The Lost Symbol. Brown can write and he has a very creative and active imagination. Since I think imagination is a dying art and our collective imaginations are not getting enough attention I'd like to recommend this one. Keep in mind: this is fiction. 

 

What I liked about this book: the full story takes place in one night; short chapters; good character development; plausible; featured a real city I had visited this summer (Washington DC); creative.

What I did not like about this book: final 50-75 pages unnecessary - could have wrapped up the story better and sooner, so a bit of a let down at the end. Not quite as good as The DaVinci Code, but close.