Now you know. I spend all my time reading and watching television. NOT! But I do enjoy reading and watching television.
A peculiar synchronicity brought the American Civil War into my book/TV life this week.
I made a commitment to PBS to watch their original series Mercy Street and respond to a survey after each episode. And I've been watching Mercy Street since its January premiere.
I hate making commitments! Things always come up. Family responsibilities, electronic difficulties, bedtime. But I only missed episode 4.
Mercy Street which explores the American Civil War is set in occupied Alexandria, Virginia, which is across the Potomac River and about eight miles downstream from Washington, D.C.
The story, based on the real Mary Phinney's diaries, is told primarily from the points of view of two volunteer nurses.
Nurse Mary is a Massachusetts born abolitionist, volunteer in the Union Army Hospital.
Miss Emma Green was also a real woman, the daughter of the Southern family who owned the hotel, commandeered by the Union forces as a military hospital. Her real-life love-interest Frank was well and truly a Confederate spy just as he is in this production.
The initial intransigence of the women from opposite sides in the war is well-played, as is their gradual softening toward each other and the soldiers from the side opposite their own.
A secondary, but especially riveting, plot line involves Samuel Diggs, a free black man raised in the home of a Pennsylvania doctor where he learned medicine. Knowledge he could not publicly display in a Civil War era hospital -- Union or Confederate.
The production is graphic in its portrayal of medical procedures common to the Civil War era. And in its portrayal of a boorish white man's abuse of a nominally free black woman. Maybe too graphic.
But the portrayal of the lead characters and most of the supporting characters is very well done. A bright spot in American dramatic television. As a long-time, enthusiastic supporter of British dramatic series (Upstairs, Downstairs; I, Claudius; Silent Witness; Downton Abbey; Call the Midwife; etc.) I find it reassuring that Americans can produce good TV dramas, too.
Synchronicity, did I say? Yes, I did.
I bought The Lincoln Letter last fall while attending the Rose State Writing Short Course. William Martin was the guest lecturer there and he very kindly autographed my copy. It had been sitting on my bedside table since.
When I finished Sue Klebold's A Mother's Reckoning (see my review) and needed something much less intense to read -- there it was, right at hand.
The Lincoln Letter is not exactly a murder mystery. It is a mystery and there are murders. But, for the most part, the who-done-it is openly acknowledged in most of the murders. And in the murders involving murderers not initially clearly identified, it's not really important. The mystery is more about an unnamed item mentioned in the Lincoln letter.
The fifth in Martin's Peter Fallon series, The Lincoln Letter intersperses historical fiction with current day action. Peter Fallon is an antique books and historical documents dealer. He's the current day main character chasing the 'it' worth several million dollars.
Halsey Hutchinson (the historical part's main character) is a Union Lieutenant working in the War Department's telegraph office. President Lincoln, during his insomniac wanderings, develops a friendly relationship with Halsey. During a series of misadventures Halsey loses then tries to recover the possible 'it.'
This mixture of historical and modern day stories has been done many times before. As with James Michener's superior novels, I found myself more interested in the historical fiction part -- I hurried through the modern day passages, wishing Martin had just skipped Peter Fallon's part altogether.
I give Mercy Street four and a half stars. Three stars to William Martin's The Lincoln Letter.
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