I recently completed reading 56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports (Sports Illustrated: 2011). The story, by Kostya Kennedy, is not a novel, but Kennedy's treatment of Joe DiMaggio's feat reads a lot like fiction. More than just a simple retelling of one of baseball's greatest endeavours, Kennedy interjects the story with the mood and feel of the times.
Baseball, during the summer of 1941, took place while the world outside of America was at war. And the threat of America's involvement grew with each day. Kennedy's narration of the streak is interjected with headlines of the day, both internationally and nationally, so that his narration of each game during the streak is put in context. And, along with what is going on in Europe or Asia, are sprinklings of what the average fan thought about Joe and what was happening in the ballpark. Particularly interesting are Kennedy's tales of a gang of kids in the Bronx and the relationship between Joe and his first wife, Dorothy Arnold.
Now, I've read a few comments that Kennedy plays a little loose with some of the facts, or that his editors were not as sharp as they should have been (English monarchs are crowned at Westminster Abbey, not Westminster Hall), but these small things are easily overlooked when considering the bits about Wee Willie Keeler, about Joe's style of hitting (flat-footed with little stride), or insights from Pete Rose about his attempt at the record. It's these little sidenotes that ground the reader in reality - pulling you back into the present from that world of 70 years ago. 56 is an entertaining read, and Kennedy's style of writing makes it seem as if you are reading a fictionalized account - one that brings out the suspense and the sights and sounds of that summer in New York. In Kennedy's story, the streak is more than DiMaggio's endeavour, but how it touched so many people at the time.
Sometimes a baseball novel is not really about baseball, or it may not be so apparent. In the case of The Housekeeper and the Professor (Picador: 2009), none of the characters in Yoko Ogawa's story are baseball players or owners or associated with a team. Baseball, in fact, is a minor aspect to the plot, but does play an important role during the course of the story. Ogawa has crafted an absolutely wonderful story based on a very intriguing premise.
Due to an automobile accident, the Professor in Ogawa's novel, can only remember the last 80 minutes of his immediate past. The remainder of his memory is from his life prior to his accident. The professor was once a renown mathematics instructor whose life is reduced to spending his time solving contest puzzles in journals and magazines. He pins small notes to his clothes to remind him of who he is and of the people he might come in contact during his day.
The narrator is the latest in a long line of housekeepers the Professor's sister-in-law has hired to cook and clean up after him. She is a young mother of a 10-year old boy who the Professor names "Root" because the boy's hair cut reminds him of the square root symbol. Both the housekeeper and her son form bonds with the Professor that makes the story touching and memorable. The professor teaches each of his charges about the uniqueness of mathematics, while the housekeeper finds, in the professor, a parent-figure. Her son finds commonality with his mother's employer in baseball. Both he and the professor are fans of the Hanshin Tigers. But while the boy relentlessly follows the current-day Tigers, the professor roots for the Hanshin squad led by All-star pitcher Yujata Enatsu, who left the Tigers in 1975 - interestingly, the same year of the professor's accident.
The Housekeeper and the Professor, as I mentioned, is a heart-warming tale of human companionship and the lengths people will go to maintain connection with other people. Each morning, the housekeeper must re-introduce herself and the professor brings her into his life using his small notes and questions centered around prime numbers. The combination of mathematics and baseball make for an interesting plot device - one that works very well. And the bonds between each of the central characters seemingly grows stronger, despite the fact the professor cannot remember the woman or her son after the end of each day.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It is certainly a highlight of this year's reading lineup. As and aside, the novel was adapted to film in 2006 (The Professor's Beloved Equation: Koizumi) that was apparently done very close to the original story. It would be worth trying to locate a copy of this beautifully done story.
I recently completed reading 56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports (Sports Illustrated: 2011). The story, by Kostya Kennedy, is not a novel, but Kennedy's treatment of Joe DiMaggio's feat reads a lot like fiction. More than just a simple retelling of one of baseball's greatest endeavours, Kennedy interjects the story with the mood and feel of the times.
