Tag: reading

Comments on Book “Enemy Contact” by Tom Clancy

August 17, 2025

I read many of Clancy’s books, such as The Hunt for Red October, and enjoyed them. This book, Enemy Contact, entertained but frustrated me. Published in 2019 and written by Mike Maden under Clancy’s name, this book leads the reader through numerous locations around the world and has multiple plots. But it does not hang together and leaves many questions to the reader’s imagination.

The best thing about the book is that it has a lot of action, and it’s a page-turner. Many of the chapters contain complete short stories but with further reading in the book, one understands how these fit into the overall theme. For example, in chapter one, the action takes place in Argentina and is a complete story. The context of how it fits into the overall narrative becomes clear later on. This happens many times in the book. I found this truncated structure frustrating, but it may be a popular trick to draw the reader further into the book.

The story unfolds in numerous locations, including Luanda, Angola, Gdansk, Poland, Washington, DC and Berlin, Germany. I have no problem with different parts of the world described, except that each location includes description of its architecture and streetscape. I understand the author needs to provide background and context, but the amount of information seems overkill.

And it is not only the description of all the locations, but the politics of the region is also covered. If you are a news hawk, then you are aware of many of the situations described, such as those in Angola, where the Chinese are building their “road and infrastructure” program using Chinese labor that creates friction with available local labor in the country.

The major theme connecting all the local stories revolves around an international crime syndicate involved in the production and distribution of drugs. Another theme involves a super sleuth, who is utilizing data mining techniques on secret U.S. cloud storage sites to gather and sell this information. The connection between these two themes is tenuous and artificial but I read the book for its entertaining value and did not spend time on trying to follow the logic of the stories.

The characters in the book are all unique. They include brothers who served in the French Foreign Legion; a visionary who developed a world-leading security system used by the U.S. government, and his attractive wife, who oversees technical development for the company and recruits the best programmers in the world. Among these programmers is a Chinese individual who was raised in the U.S. and whose friend in Thailand is undergoing gender transition. I wondered why eeverybody in the book has to be a unique character, the best programmer, a good-looking woman techie, and ex-French Foreign Legionnaires. Couldn’t. there be average people accomplishing challenging tasks?

There are several loose ends in the story that feel unfinished to me. For instance, Jack Ryan, the main character in the book, and his his attrctive female assistant in Poland develop a close friendship. He visits her home for dinner and bonds with her toddler. This friendship hints at a potential future relationship between Jack and the assistant. However, when she is drowning, she asks Jack to care for her young son, but nothing further develops. I found this aspect of the story incomplete.

And then there are some situations that are hard to believe; that are not realistic. When Jack arrives in the high mountains of Peru to honor a commitment he made to a friend who died in action, he gets drunk in a local pub, still nursing his guilt, feeling responsible for the death of his Polish assistant. A group associated with the international crime syndicate beat him up in his sleep and rob him of everything. Still, when he wakes up, he scrounges some clothing and climbs another few thousand feet to the top of the mountain without food, water and proper shoes and clothing. I hiked Machu Pichu and let me tell you, the air is thin, and it is cold and it is hard to believe that Jack, beaten up and without supplies, could accomplish the feat described. But reading the story is good entertainment.

The ending of the narrative felt brief and disappointing. As expected, the criminals are killed or imprisoned. There are no excting chases, or long-drawn-out tracking of the bad guys. The ending is just twenty pages long and comes quickly of a four-hundred-sixty-page book. An example is the end of Jack’s archenemy, a former French Foreign Legionnaire. Once located in Benghazi, Jack travels to Libya and shoots the Legionnaire, and that’s it. This resolution unfolds over just a couple of pages, which to me was a quick and decisive action but did not include a leadup with Jack’s feeling towards this gangster and the satisfaction that he undoubtedly drew from fionishing him off.

Overall, I thought the book was entertaining. It contains numerous plots, an abundance of colorful characters, and happens over a wide range of global locations. Additionally, it addresses an excessive number of current topics—political, moral, and technical—that could each have been developed into a story of their own.

While reading the book provided instant excitement, it was ultimately forgettable. It does not hold up to Clancy’s earlier works, which were much more focused in terms of geography and subject matter.

Exploring My Evolving Reading Preferences

February 19, 2025


Reading competes for my time with other activities, such as exercising at the gym, shoveling snow to clear the driveway, watching the Super Bowl and the four-nation hockey tournament, and keeping up with news, including Trump’s parade of executive orders announced daily. But I belong to a book club, and our get-togethers, served with a light lunch, are highly enjoyable.

The book club met to select readings for the coming year. We each recommend a book, host the group, and lead the discussion. To my surprise, many of the choices were nonfiction this year.

My selection was also nonfiction: Dr. Schwartz’s book, Grey Matter, a detailed neurosurgery biography. The book features case studies on prominent individuals, including Senators John McCain and Ted Kennedy, both of whom had brain tumors or aneurysms. Dr. Schwartz explains the treatments administered to them. While reading the book, the medical terminology, descriptions of brain anatomy, and current brain cancer treatments overwhelmed me. Though fascinating and well-written, the book’s five-hundred-page subject matter tested my patience. It was also quite time-consuming, even for someone who reads quickly.

The previous month’s selection was a science fiction novel, The Martian, by Andy Weir. This novel tells the story of a team of astronauts on Mars. The author’s captivating tale, set in 2035, is rich in scientific detail, featuring meticulous observations of Mars’s climate and surface and the challenges of surviving there for a year and a half. The plot moves much faster than the one in Grey Matter, but again, I felt overwhelmed halfway through the book by the scientific details of how to live on Mars.

While I liked these books, I considered which of the recent books I read had a significant impact on me. One was Alice Munro and a collection of her short stories. I couldn’t put the book down; the prose flowed effortlessly, and I felt a strong connection to the characters as if I knew them. While bizarre, her storylines inexplicably moved me. Despite the criticism of Munro’s portrayal of female suffering and her relationship with her daughter, I saw my life and familiar settings reflected in her work.


I was also captivated by Red Notice, Bill Browder’s account of the Russian stock market’s rise, his triumphs, and his exile under Putin. Twists fill the narrative, highlighting the dangers of life in a corrupt society, where dissent can lead to prison or even murder for nonconformists. The book brought back memories of my early years living under the communist regime in Hungary. It also reminded me of my brother, a PhD candidate at Yale under Bill Browder’s late father, Felix Browder.

Unforgettable was reading Rohinton Mistry’s Fine Balance while flying to India in 2008. Was it ever a sad book? I kept reading it and thought it could not get any worse, but it did, and the ending was terrible. But its historical and cultural context made a deep impression on me. It described Indira Gandhi’s forced sterilization program. The storytelling was smooth, and I observed characters closely resembling those in the book when we landed.

Beyond books that had a memorable impact on me, I considered the genres I was interested in and recalled all the Westerns, thrillers, and travel books I have read.

I must have read most of Louise L’Amour’s works, which are those of a popular American author of Westerns. L’Amour is a smooth storyteller with fast-moving plots describing good and evil characters in which the good people always prevail. While his stories have some historical value, they are not comparable to the scientific details in The Martian, the medical information in Gray Matters, or the cultural/historical context of Fine Balance.

Like many people, I have a fondness for thrillers. However, I now reserve time to read this genre when flying, on vacation, or resting while sick in bed. In this category, I read many books by Agatha Christie, Nelson DeMille, Dan Brown, Clive Cussler, Robert Parker, and Tom Clancy. I particularly enjoyed Parker’s Spenser adventures.

Travel writing has also interested me. Kathy and I love traveling, and reading about the countries we have visited makes it all the more interesting. My favorite authors in this genre are Paul Theroux and Bill Bryson. They both have smooth writing styles, and Bryson is humorous. When I read their books, I am right in their location; their descriptions are very convincing. Theroux’s conversations with locals add an extra dimension, providing insight into what people in different countries think about global events. For example, his book Deep South evoked memories of my North Carolina stay, particularly his insightful portrayals of villages I knew.

Thinking about my favorite authors, books, and genres, I realized how cultural and historical influences had shaped my reading preferences. My early memories include my grandfather reading Jules Verne to my brother and me before sleep when we were under ten. My grandfather’s library included every book Jules Verne ever wrote. So, of course, we read many of Verne’s works. That was in Hungary in the 1950s. In addition to Verne, our staple for reading then was the German author Karl May’s books, including the Winnetou series, stories of the American West. And while learning English, I practiced by reading Somerset Maugham. I found his easy-flowing storytelling style and his use of simple English words easy to follow. Remember Ashenden or the British Agent?

These days, I seldom read Maugham, Clancy, or Westerns. Instead, my interests have evolved toward travel writers, biographies, and nonfiction. My reading list includes a book on cryptocurrency, Walter Isaacson’s biography of Elon Musk, and “Sapiens” by Yuval Harari.

A Men’s Book Club Discusses Alice Munro

October 22, 2024

The title suggests that men and women have differing perspectives on Alice Munro’s work. Can that be verified? I do not know. But our book club had a lively discussion about Munro’s book entitled Dear Life, a short story collection published in 2012.

Surprisingly, our members read some stories, but not all of them. They found the stories dark and stopped reading to avoid being depressed. One found the lack of “redemption” in the stories disappointing. But does life always have a happy ending? Many people have challenging lives and fail to reach a satisfying old age. There could be health, financial, and family issues that are never resolved. The shock value of missing an ending to the stories made me think of what could have been should the author have completed it. And that I found exciting, and I dreamt up options for finishing the stories.

Although most of us considered the subjects dark, we all agreed that the writing was extremely smooth, and the characters in the story came to life. Descriptions of small towns, the location of many of the stories, also came to life with such force that one of us thought she described the city where he grew up. I admired the ease with which Munro described her characters in a few pages in such detail that I thought I thoroughly understood the person and her motivation in life.

Most of Munro’s characters are women residing in small Ontario towns during the 1950s and 1960s. These women did not usually attend university, and the smart ones hid their intelligence; it was not fashionable for women to be clever in those days.

Her characterizations reminded me of my parents: my mother stayed home and occupied herself with housekeeping while my father was the breadwinner. My mother was the sole exception among her siblings, who all attended university. One of Munro’s stories is an exact copy of one aspect of my parents’ life: the wife prepares dinners for her husband, a doctor, just like my father, who expects dinner on the table when he returns home from work.

Munro’s description of women’s societal role and status started a conversation about their role today, with the understanding that women now surpass men at university graduation. It’s common for wives to be the breadwinners while their husbands take on household responsibilities. This has been a significant change over the past fifty years. Thinking of this trend, some of us questioned to what extent Munro’s stories would be relevant today. I thought that they would. Confirming my view, the Nobel Committee recognized Munro’s universal writings and awarded her the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2013.

But after her death this year, Munro’s reputation suffered with the widespread publication that her husband sexually abused their daughter. Many followers of Munro expressed moral outrage about Munro being aware of the situation and not doing anything about it. Doubts were raised about her genius, and discussions ensued about the quality of her books after her questionable behavior was uncovered. Interestingly, despite anecdotal evidence of changing opinions about Munro, our book club did not dwell on this subject. Maybe this is one difference between men and women when considering Munro’s work. Three out of eight of us resonated with the book, while one person didn’t find it appealing. Most agreed that the stories were dark and depressing but beautifully written.

The Men’s Book Club

March 19, 2024

One suggested forming a book club at our monthly luncheon of retired friends. It could have been the spicy food at the Indian restaurant that triggered our brain cells to ponder that our wives belong to book clubs while we do not. We discussed that women have many social networks while men do not. Some argued that men traditionally went to work while women raised children at home, needing social networks to survive, indicating our age more than the current reality. Be it as it may, we decided to form a book club.

We did a quick internet survey on where and when we would meet. The majority agreed to meet at lunchtime; we do not want to compete with rush hour traffic. The options considered for a meeting place were a restaurant that would cost money and force us to share space with loud customers. Or a coffee house like Starbucks, where we may not be welcome to occupy many chairs for hours while buying a single cup of coffee.

As a result, we chose to meet at someone’s house who would also provide a light lunch. Nine people showed up at the first meeting; the original lunch group expanded with friends we thought would be interested. We all proposed a book for our review and picked one for our first meeting. The one suggesting the book would moderate what we envisioned, a free-for-all discussion.

Although I joined the group, I had some misgivings about its future. Monthly meetings are good for socializing, but should we also be voracious readers? I used to read books in my youth and loved thrillers (Agatha Christie, Ken Follett, John Grisham) and westerns (Zane Grey, Louis L’amour, Charles May), but now I read primarily political news and no books. I gathered from talking with my friends that they are not bookworms except a couple who read a book weekly. But I thought, let’s give it a try.

Our recent meeting focused on John Le Carre’s book The Looking Glass War. It is a Cold War story, a spy novel set mainly in the United Kingdom during the 1960s.

Although the discussion flowed, people were cautious in expressing their views, perhaps because of their science, engineering, and finance backgrounds. Some thought the plot was complex without explaining why, while others believed there was too much detail describing a crystal radio with Morse code transmission. Someone else questioned why the author did not conclude the situation, leaving the readers to figure out what happened. Still others characterized the book as British history. With no explanation, someone said he did not like the book. We did not pursue any of these comments; perhaps the group must jell to be mature enough to dive into more detailed discussions without antagonizing each other.

I told them I enjoyed how the first chapter got my attention and hooked me into reading the book in one sitting. And how the plot builds up into a crescendo of excitement towards the end, the chapters becoming shorter and shorter as the actions become more and more dangerous.

Placing an English agent over the Iron Curtain in East Germany is vital to the plot. I thought of my experience with the Cold War, living in Hungary then, and the Iron Curtain’s impact on me. Living near the Iron Curtain, I knew it was a no man’s land, cleared of vegetation and mined, with dogs roaming between the two electrified fences patrolled by soldiers and lighted at night by watchtowers. As a medical doctor, my father patched up many people trying to escape across the Iron Curtain, caught by the dogs, the soldiers, or the electrified wire fence trying to escape using wire-cutters.

Reading about the crystal radio set reminded me of my childhood experience building one. I remember the excitement I felt getting radio signals from the West on my crystal radio; in Hungary, the only reception one had was Hungarian propaganda broadcast on the “people’s” radio with one channel during the Cold War.

After the meeting, I wondered: Did I enjoy the book more than the others? Was it perhaps my experiences that connected in many ways with the story while the others had no similar experiences? That thought made me think that knowing the context of a story makes one more knowledgeable and appreciative of a story than others with no such experiences.

I look forward to our next meeting to see if my theory holds.