Charles Davis (4) (1960–)

This book surprised me with its depth and sensitivity. The two main characters are very different in mindset, yet both realize in order to survive they must come to some deeper understanding. The introduction of a child to their existence complicates and yet rather fulfills them as a couple. The writing was very good and conjured up some amazing pictures of the depth of man's cruelty, the extreme horrors of what has become a present-day war situation, the chaos that is reality for many show more people today contrasted to one man's acceptance, wisdom and ways of coping with his situation. The frequent references to books, reading and story-telling are some of the few things that remind you there are still good things in this war-torn world and these same items are used as comfort, distraction and a means to normalcy. A very good book. show less

This is a slim volume of humorous fiction, more a collection of related short stories than a novel. Charles Davis lightly sets a stage on a backwater Caribbean island full of affectionately drawn eccentric characters, then turns them loose to illustrate the foibles of their (and our) being human. The writing is first-rate, deftly done to appear effortless, with the exception of the occasional straining to wring the most of a slapstick scene.

The jacket blurb describes Davis’s earlier novel, show more Walk on, Bright Boy, set grimly against a backdrop of the Spanish Inquisition. It’s hard to imagine a more different work from this light and frothy set of stories. I look forward to reading more Davis as he explores his wide-ranging talent. show less

Filled with well-researched history and fascinating insights, Charles Davis’ The Measure of the World blends math with magic, measurable accuracy with self-determination, and image with reality. The result is an enthralling tale of France at the time of the French Revolution, where a young, ambitious, socially inept surveyor is chosen for the unenviable (but surely safe) task of preparing measuring stations across France. Soon the meter will be defined. Soon there will be enforceable show more boundaries to lands and fields. And one freedom might fall as another rises.

Freedom always comes at a price of course, be it political, romantic, scientific or geographic. In a time of shifting political freedoms, in a Europe of geographic uncertainty, and against a background of scientifically non-standard “feet,” there might be many prices to pay for defining the length of a meter.

The story is told with a pleasingly self-deprecating first person voice. Excellently and frequently humorous dialog brings scenes of human absurdity to enthralling life. Science and social science both include enough detail to convince, inform and entertain, while the protagonist’s gentle musings provide thought-provoking delight, as relevant today perhaps as they are to the time of the story—plus ça change , plus c'est la même chose? Great nuggets of wisdom abound, and “Men always prefer a worse way of knowing to a better way of learning.”

Luckily today we don’t risk being burned at the stake, challenged to a duel, or imprisoned in foreign jails for measuring fields and love—at least, not in general. But this story’s filled with historical detail, personal observation, unexpected excitement and enticement, a thoroughly old and thoroughly modern faith-science-politics trichotomy, and a well-drawn measure of life’s imperfection. “Our world is warped and we are bent out of shape” is as true now as then.

“Triangulating the absurd,” surveying grounds and relationships, and presenting a world of very different maps, romantic, entangled, magical and prosaic, the story measures values and absolutes, and the author succeeds in keeping the reader entertained and enticed, even through the distractions of entirely relevant rumination, making the novel a surprisingly fast read and surprisingly hard to put down. It’s the sort of novel that stays in your head when you’ve finished as well, and you’ll never look at a meter rule the same way again.

Disclosure: I was given a preview edition by the publisher and I offer my honest review. show less

History turns the Hitlers of this world into monsters, and those who follow them into fools. But Hitler and Mussolini were real people once, and their admirers, some of them at least, hoped for a pleasant future, not an aftermath of terror. Charles Davis imagines the thoughts of an Irish art historian touring Italy’s galleries with these much-hated leaders, in a time before war, when folly was nothing more than amusing, and surely nothing could go so badly wrong. By chance, this hapless show more narrator might be photographed with the world’s greatest despots, and a viewer of that photo in later years might presume him similarly evil. But the story leading up to this picture is simultaneously frightening and ridiculous, as author Charles Davis imbues his narrator with a blistering, irreverent humor combined with achingly honest understanding.

Juxtaposing family and international disagreements, rebellions of the distant and more recent past, loves great and small, and cruelties great and imagined, the author brings eras and people to life, renders irreverent humor both hilarious and thought-provoking, and drags villains into the dust, thereby revealing the dust from which they arise. The narrator’s voice is completely convincing throughout. His predicament is sharply real. And his purpose is surprisingly simple and uncertain, bringing the reader ever closer to the multiple stings in the tale.

The author’s deep interest and research shine through the comedy and seriousness of this novel, making readers suspend disbelief only to find the facts prove hauntingly true. A tale of the past, for the present, touched by the in-between, Hitler, Mussolini and Me is constantly surprising, vividly painful, hilariously ridiculous, and a nightmarish good read.

Disclosure: I was given a preview edition by the publisher and I offer my honest review. show less