Stick to baseball, 5/2/20.

I was busy this week promoting The Inside Game, my new book, now available from bookshop.org and other fine retail outlets. As of Thursday, Midtown Scholar in Harrisburg had signed copies for sale. I’m especially thrilled to see how positive the reviews have been, from a starred review in Publishers Weekly to this glowing writeup in the Maine Edge. Library Journal also “highly recommended” the book, although the review is only for subscribers.

WIRED has an excerpt from The Inside Game on its site, a portion of the chapter on anchoring bias that discusses a major reason why the automated strike zone would be an improvement over human umps.

I appeared on several great podcasts this week, including:

On my own podcast this week, I had board game designer & Blue Jays fan Daryl Andrews (Sagrada, Bosk), talking about his latest games, designing & playing during self-isolation, and his Toronto fandom. You can subscribe on Apple, Spotify, or Stitcher.

I was interviewed by my friend Tim Grierson for MEL Magazine, talking about my new book and life in self-isolation.

Also, my first book, Smart Baseball, is now available in Korean. If you’re in South Korea, you can pick it up here on Kyobo.

I reviewed the game Half Truth, a fun party/trivia game designed by Ken Jennings and Richard Garfield, for Paste this week, and reviewed the digital adaptation of the great dice-drafting game Sagrada for Ars Technica.

And now, the links…

  • Longreads first: Can we just give Ed Yong a Pulitzer Prize for his essay in the Atlantic called “Why the Coronavirus is So Confusing?” It is clear, coherent, comprehensive, and serious without being alarmist. It makes clear the role disinformation is playing in the pandemic, lays appropriate blame for the U.S.’s poor and late response, and discusses the structural problems that made a pandemic of some sort inevitable. It’s the best piece I’ve read this year.
  • CNN has the story of the man who spent 46 years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, the longest such wrongful sentence in U.S. history.
  • Gabrielle Hamilton, chef-owner of Prune and author of Blood, Bones, and Butter, wrote a poignant, self-searching editorial in the New York Times asking if her restaurant really is “essential” and whether she’ll have the energy or the funds to reopen.
  • Writing for SB Nation, Shakeia Taylor looks at the curious life of Effa Manley, Negro Leagues owner and Baseball Hall of Famer, and, according to multiple sources, a white woman who passed herself off as black when it was convenient to do so.
  • Why does Belgium have such a high COVID-19 fatality rate? One major reason is that they’re being more honest in reporting such deaths.
  • It’s “doubtful” that COVID-19 was accidentally released from a Wuhan lab, but that won’t stop conspiracy-mongers and xenophobes from spreading a probable lie.
  • Those two Bakersfield ER docs you might have seen on Youtube calling for states to reopen their economies? They’re quacks, pushing a bogus epidemiology, which I presume is for attention.
  • Progressive women politicians are being offered “a poisoned chalice” when it comes to Joe Biden, who faces a serious allegation from Tara Reade that he sexually assaulted her in the 1990s. Meanwhile, Biden, obviously taking this very seriously, appointed notorious partier Chris Dodd, himself involved in sexual assault allegations (with Ted Kennedy) in the 1980s, to serve on his VP selection committee.
  • Tennessee restaurants re-opened as the state saw its biggest one-day jump in COVID-19 cases. The states that were the slowest to shut down or refused to do so will compete with the states that rushed to re-open for the worst spikes in COVID-19 cases, and I expect they’ll ask the federal government to bail out their incompetence, too.
  • Iowa is one of those states that never closed, but governor Kim Reynolds (R) is already loosening restrictions, even though COVID-19 cases there are surging.
  • Cosplayers stormed the Michigan Capitol this week, armed with small-penis symbols, and some called for the Governor’s murder, to which state Republicans have said … nothing.
  • The shutdown is changing how people buy books, and has given a huge boost to the startup bookshop.org, which I have begun using for all affiliate links to books on this site.
  • Tim Grierson also interviewed the director of A Secret Love, a wonderful new Netflix documentary about two women, one a former AAGPL star, who were a couple for nearly 70 years but hid their relationship even from close family until the very end.
  • Why did billionaire Monty Bennett get $96 million in Payroll Protection Program loans that his company, Ashford Inc., does not appear to plan to pay employees? It’s a bit of a shell game, as Ashford merely “advises” two hotel companies Bennett owns.
  • Why did my undergraduate alma mater maintain such close ties with Jeffrey Epstein even after his conviction for sex crimes against a minor?
  • Betsy Levy Paluck writes in the Washington Post about how she gave birth by herself during this pandemic, but she never felt alone.
  • No board game news this week, but I know of two interesting Kickstarters coming on Tuesday and will tweet about them when they launch.

Gingerbread House.

Phil Walker-Harding is probably my favorite game designer right now, one of the only names that would get me to buy a game just because I saw it on the box. Silver & Gold was my #2 game of 2019, and Imhotep the Duel was #6. Gizmos made my top ten for 2018. Cacao remains a favorite, and I think his Sushi Go! Party is one of the best games for 5+ players. Imhotep itself was nominated for the Spiel des Jahres. I’ve never played a PWH game I didn’t like, and still have one unplayed game of his (the first Adventure game).

Gingerbread House came out in 2018-19, and I think it’s slipped a bit through the cracks because he’s released several better games in the last two years that overshadowed it. I suspect the goofy theme and art might lead people to think it’s a simpler game than it is, although Broom Service had very similar art and that’s definitely more complex than this game is.

Gingerbread House is like a kicked-up Kingdomino, or a better reimagining of Kingdomino than Queendomino is, asking you to place two-square tiles on your 3×3 house card to gain tokens based on what you cover up. You’ll then collect those tokens and use them to buy points cards, while also gaining up to three bonus cards for each level you complete. There are specific twists to the rules beyond that, but that’s the framework of the game – you place one tile on each turn, collect two things (or maybe three), and then buy a card if you can.

There are four colors of tokens in Gingerbread House, and the cards you buy, which represent humans and monsters you’re trying to ‘trap’ by enticing them to your house, can require as many as eight tokens and can require tokens of just one color or up to all four. You’ll cover two spaces on each turn and take tokens matching those spaces, although if you cover two spaces showing the same symbol, you get a third one as a bonus. There are other spaces that give you an extra stairway (see below), or let you swap one token for another one, or let you reserve a card to try to pay for it later.

If you’re mathematically inclined, you probably caught on to the fact that you can’t cover a 3×3 grid with two-square tiles. You start the game with one ‘stairway’ file, which is a square ring that allows you to see what’s beneath it. You can place that for free at any time, but you must cover it with a regular tile on the same turn. You also get a one-square wild tile whenever you pay for a card, and must place it immediately, taking whatever token or symbol you’ve covered; if you later cover the wild tile, you can take any color token or treat it as if it were any of the other three symbols.

When you complete a level of your house, you get to take a bonus card that’s worth points at the end of the game. In the basic game, you just take the highest-points card still on the table. In the advanced game, however, you choose one of the bonus cards, which are dealt out at random at the start of each game, and can thus tailor your strategy afterwards to maximize the points you get from the cards you obtain. Individual character cards are worth 4 to 10 points, but bonus cards can be worth as much as 12 points, so if you play your cards correctly (pun intended), you can gain the equivalent of another character card or more from each bonus card. There are some bonus cards that only give you two points, but instead reward you with tokens based on what’s visible on your board at the time you take them.

That interplay between bonus cards and character cards is what makes Gingerbread House more than just a basic family game. You could certainly ditch the bonus cards and play with younger kids, but the bonus cards are what make this fun for adults. What Gingerbread House lacks is any real interaction between players. Unless two of you are gunning for the same card, and maybe one of you uses the ‘cage’ symbol to reserve it, you’re mostly working on your own. That’s fine – Gizmos is like that, Silver & Gold is like that, Bärenpark is definitely like that – and the game is fun enough for a couple of plays, but I don’t know that this has the same huge replay value as his better games.

The Double.

Nobel Prize-winning author José Saramago’s novel The Double seldom appears on the list of his most notable works, even though it was adapted into a movie by Dennis Villeneuve (retitled Enemy) starring Jake Gyllenhaal in the two title roles – two, because the story revolves around a man who discovers that there’s another man, an obscure actor who has minor roles in various films, who is a carbon copy of himself. The two men are completely indistinguishable, not identical twins, but identical in every way, down to scars and blemishes, leading the first character into an existential crisis, one where he tracks down his double and causes a spiral of problems for both of them and for the people closest to them.

Tertuliano, whose name roughly translates as “chatty” (or something more pejorative), is the first man, a history teacher whose colleague suggests that he rent a particular movie without explaining up front what the significance of the film might be. It turns out that a minor character actor in the film is a dead ringer for Tertuliano, a similarity that affects the teacher far more than you might expect at first. He tries to find the actor’s name, renting any movie he can find from the same production company, and eventually uses a subterfuge to contact the actor. Even their voices are identical – the actor’s wife thinks it’s her husband on the phone, not Tertuliano, playing a prank on her – and when the two men meet, there’s an immediate, mutual disdain as you might see when two cats meet each other for the first time and each decides that it’s his territory and the other is an intruder. As with cats, this leads to a sort of pissing contest where each man tries to demonstrate some sort of dominance over the other, as if to say that he’s the real person and the other the facsimile, with consequences that are both shocking and foreseeable, with a clever little twist in the novel’s very last paragraph.

Saramago expresses the existential crisis that Tertuliano undergoes rather well throughout the book, keeping the character’s anxiety and dread visible but at a slow boil, so his actions and gestures aren’t overly dramatic or forced. Once you accept the premise that he’s undone by this thought that he has a clone in the world, and loses some sense of himself in the process, everything that follows makes sense. It’s his clone who seems harder to buy, especially when he bullies Tertuliano into accepting something extraordinary, an action that ultimately leads to the novel’s climax and resolution – although the payoff does mostly justify the torturous path that got us there.

The bigger question around The Double is how well Saramago communicates the reasons for the existential crisis – that is, why Tertuliano goes off the rails just because he saw his duplicate in a movie. It might be unnerving to see someone who looks just like you in a film, but would you stalk that person and try to meet up with them? Would you let this unravel your entire life? Probably not, unless your life was already a bit threadbare, but Saramago doesn’t give us any real reason to believe that Tertuliano was already in that kind of state – he’s not a happy man or very fulfilled by work or his relationship with his girlfriend, yet he doesn’t come across as a man on the verge before he sets off on his quixotic effort to find his double.

You’re also not going to get any explanation of how the clones came about, either, so don’t go into The Double expecting one: the resolution is about the characters, not the mystery of their existence. I was hoping for some kind of answer, but Saramago never actually implies that he’s going to provide one, and the book heads in a different direction from the start; it’s hard to see a way where he could have given that explanation and still taken the story where it goes. It doesn’t live up to Blindness, one of his best-known and best-regarded novels, which pulls off the trick of a compelling (if often gross) story that conveys a stronger philosophical message, but is at least thought-provoking with a plot that works right up through its resolution.

Next up: I’m a few write-ups behind but am currently reading Octavia Butler’s The Parable of the Sower.

Stick to baseball, 4/25/20.

The Inside Game is out!  You can buy the physical book on Bookshop.org to support independent bookstores or get the Kindle version on amazon. (Some of my biggest fans have already left one-star reviews!) Audible named it one of their top picks in History/Nonfiction for the spring of 2020 too.

To promote the book, I did a live ‘virtual’ bookstore event with help from Nats reliever and voracious reader Sean Doolittle, which you can watch if you registered and bought the book through Politics and Prose. I also appeared on several podcasts:

There are also some very positive reviews for The Inside Game out already on Throneberry Fields, Farther Off the Wall, and Porchlight Books. It also made a Wall Street Journal roundup of three recommended baseball books for the spring and was recommended by Inside Hook.

I did a Q&A at the Athletic on Thursday, and part two of my diptych on scouting, covering pitcher grades, with Eno Sarris is also up for subscribers. The Athletic ran an excerpt from The Inside Game on base-rate neglect and why teams draft too many high school pitchers in the first round.

My own podcast this week featured Dr. Paul Sax of Harvard Medical School & Brigham and Women’s Hospital, talking about COVID-19 and baseball fandom. You can listen to it on The Athletic, Apple, Spotify, and Stitcher.

I did send out a new edition of my newsletter last week, and I’ll be back on it more often now, I think; you can sign up for free here.

And now, the links…

  • Those of us in the United States are living in a failed state.
  • This editorial on Eater London explains how restaurants have to adapt to survive what could be another year and a half of “corona time,” with two important takeaways for us: Doing what you can to support restaurants still operating during the shutdown is critical to their survival, and we are not going to see fans in ballparks any time soon.
  • Scientists are tired of explaining that COVID-19 was not made in a Chinese lab.
  • Are you having stranger dreams during the pandemic than you usually would? National Geographic looks at reasons why that is happening to so many of us.
  • Governors talking about reopening their states – or actually doing it, in the case of Georgia – are being way too cavalier, as the pandemic is not under control yet, according to this New York Times editorial by Professor Aaron E. Carroll of the Indiana University School of Medicine.
  • Nationalist groups are using COVID-19 to push their agendas to reduce civil liberties, consolidate power, and spread hate and distrust of marginalized populations.
  • Why did Nikola Motor, whose CEO just bought a $32 million ranch, get a $4 million payout from the COVID-19 small business fund?
  • Those Facebook groups pushing anti-lockdown protests are largely just astroturfing by the Dorr brothers, a family of conservative pro-gun activists whom Republican lawmakers have called “scam artists.”
  • Are COVID-19 mortality rates higher than they need to be because so many developed nations’ citizens are fundamentally unhealthy?
  • The New York Times looked athow children’s shows are responding to kids’ needs during the shutdown, such as Sesame Street’s episode with a virtual playdate for Elmo and various real and Muppet friends. (I especially enjoyed Cookie Monster’s appearance.)
  • A few German citizens are protesting lockdown measures under the guise of liberty or some nonsense.
  • Rep. Donna Shalala (D-FL) failed to disclose stock sales in 2019 while she was serving in Congress, violating federal law.
  • Board game news: Renegade is now taking pre-orders for Viscounts of the West Kingdom, the third game in the West Kingdom trilogy, for delivery at Gen Con (if the convention takes place).
  • I don’t know much about the upcoming game Sea of Legends other than that it’s narrative-based and looks like it has a great theme.
  • Boardgamegeek’s annual Golden Geek Awards balloting has now opened. I do wonder if Wingspan will suffer any backlash to its crossover success in the voting. I’d vote for it for Game of the Year, Innovative Game, Strategy Game, and Family Game of the Year; Watergate for two-player game of the year; and either Res Arcana or Point Salad for Card Game; plus Evolution for best app.

Stick to baseball, 4/18/20.

My book, The Inside Game: Bad Calls, Strange Moves, and What Baseball Behavior Teaches Us About Ourselves, will be out in three days! You can buy it wherever you can buy books right now, but allow me to recommend bookshop.org, which sources books from independent bookstores or just gives some of their proceeds from direct sales to indie stores.

For The Athletic subscribers this week, Eno Sarris and I examined the five tools for position players from both scouting and analytical perspectives. There will be another piece for pitchers, which I hope to get done this week (I think Eno’s well ahead of me for his part). On my own podcast, I spoke with former Angels scouting director Eddie Bane about Mike Trout, all-time draft busts Bill Bene and Kiki Jones, and more. You can subscribe here on Apple and Spotify.

On the board game front, I reviewed Oceans, the new standalone sequel to the game Evolution, over at Paste this week. For Vulture, I looked at pandemic-themed games, including the one by that name, with thoughts on why diseases are such a popular theme.

I did a virtual bookstore event with Harrisburg’s Midtown Scholar on Thursday, which you can watch here if you missed it. I’ll do another such event on Friday, April 24th, with Sean Doolittle via DC’s Politics & Prose; you can sign up by buying a copy of The Inside Game here.

I spoke to Ryan Phillips of The Big Lead about The Inside Game and my move to the Athletic, among other topics, appeared on the Sports Information Solutions podcast with my former ESPN colleague Mark Simon to talk about the book, and talked about boardgames during quarantine on the Just Not Sports podcast.

And now the links…

Bombshell.

Bombshell (Apple/Amazon) feels very much like Vice for the #MeToo movement, taking a true and important story – the downfall of Roger Ailes as his decades of sexual harassment and assaults came to light – and trivializing it through an excessively slick, shallow script that is only salvaged by strong lead performances from Charlize Theron and Nicole Kidman. I was entertained, as I was by Vice, but I was not informed, and I don’t think the movie did enough to explain how the situation was allowed to persist.

The script has a glib approach where Megyn Kelly (Theron) and Gretchen Carlson (Kidman) often break the fourth wall to tell the viewers background information relevant to the story, such as how Fox News operates behind the scenes or what Ailes’ history was prior to founding Fox News and building it into the country’s biggest cable news network. Bombshell then takes us through three roughly simultaneous storylines, one around each of the three main women in the film: Kelly’s meteoric rise at the network and Donald Trump’s subsequent attacks on her after she challenged him on his history of mistreatment of women; Carlson’s lawsuit against Ailes for sexual harassment, claiming she was demoted from her show for illegal cause; and the fictional Kayla (Margot Robbie), a wide-eyed ingenue who calls herself an “evangelical millennial” and ends up another Ailes victim. The three stories eventually intersect as Kelly and Carlson independently look for other women to speak up against Ailes. (Ailes and Fox settled with Carlson, Fox paid off Ailes’ contract by way of firing him, and Ailes was dead within a year.)

Bombshell looks incredible. Theron is a ridiculous likeness for Kelly between the hairstyling and makeup, for which the movie won its lone Academy Award, and her mimicry of Kelly’s voice and delivery. Kidman’s not quite as dead a ringer for Carlson, but is pretty close. I thought John Lithgow did his best with Ailes, making him into a blustering, lecherous tyrant, although the physical resemblance isn’t there. Nearly every on-air personality at Fox who gets a moment in this film is played by someone who looks just like them, however, which you could view as incredible dedication to verisimilitude, or a big fat missing of the point, that it is story that matters, not imitation.

Theron and Robbie were both nominated for awards, Theron for Best Actress and Robbie for Supporting, but I don’t think either deserved the win and thought Robbie was better in a smaller role Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Kayla is written so thinly and Robbie has no room to do anything except show some gross emotions, mostly because she’s a prop for the plot, not an actual person or a fully-developed character – she’s there to give Ailes someone to harass while we watch.

And that’s biggest problem with Bombshell: it’s so concerned with making things look right that it doesn’t bother telling the story behind the story. How Ailes got away with this for nearly twenty years – and probably longer, although the story doesn’t touch anything he did prior to Fox News – is never addressed, nor does the story touch on the toxic corporate culture within Fox News, or why the Murdochs didn’t care until they did care, or, perhaps most interesting of all, why so many women stayed quiet. If anything, the movie blames the victim a bit when Kayla confronts Megyn to ask why she waited ten years to talk about Ailes harassing her. It’s a jarring, wrong note for a movie that seems so eager to tell you it’s right. This story, and these women, deserved a lot better.

Stick to baseball, 4/11/20.

I didn’t publish anything this week at the Athletic, but hope to have two pieces up next week, as well as a new review at Paste and possibly new pieces at Ars Technica and Vulture as well. I did hold a short Persicope video chat on Friday.

My second book, The Inside Game: Bad Calls, Strange Moves, and What Baseball Behavior Teaches Us About Ourselves, is due out on April 21st from Harper Collins, and you can pre-order it now via their site or wherever fine books are sold.

My publisher is holding a contest where one winner will get a 30-minute chat with me before the baseball season starts, and several other entrants will win free copies of The Inside Game. You can enter for free here.

Also, check out my free email newsletter, which I say I’ll write more often than I actually write it.

I appeared on the Big Fly Baseball podcast this week and spoke with WHB’s Soren Petro about the shutdown, the draft, and the Royals for almost a half an hour.

And now, the links…

Nagaraja.

Nagaraja is the latest two-player game from Hurrican, the boutique publisher in the Asmodee family that produced the two-player dice-rolling game Kero. Co-designed by Bruno Cathala (Kingdomino, Five Tribes), Nagaraja combines tile-laying and dice-rolling in a game of medium complexity that seemed like it had one rule too many for a game that doesn’t allow for a ton of deep planning – but it might fit for players who want something slightly heavier in their two-player games.

Players in Nagaraja each start with a blank 3×3 board that has nine relic tiles randomly distributed face-down around three sides, with the fourth side, facing the player, providing three entrances for the player to start building paths to the relics. On each turn, the players will play cards to bid for a tile, revealed at the start of the turn, that they’ll be able to place on their boards. The tiles all show different configurations of paths, and once a player has completed a path from an entrance to any relic tile, they flip that tile over and gain anywhere from 3 to 6 points. The first player to rack up 25 points wins the game, but your 6-point relic tiles are cursed, and if you reveal three of them you automatically lose the game. 

The cards and the dice are really the essence of the game, though, as just acquiring enough tiles will eventually get you the relic points you want. The cards have two parts; the top part shows some combination of the game’s dice, while the bottom shows some kind of game function like letting you rotate a tile you’ve already placed, giving you additional cards, or adding ‘fate points’ to your dice roll that turn. You choose one or more cards for their dice symbols on each turn, which means you won’t use the benefits on the bottom of those cards, and then roll the dice, which are called ‘fate sticks,’ four-sided rectangular prisms in three different colors. All dice have different numbers of fate points on some sides; the brown dice have the most, but don’t have any of the other symbols, ‘nagas,’ that give you the right to play cards, while the white and green dice do. After your roll, if you have any nagas showing, you may play one card per naga. Once both players have passed, they compare all of their fate points showing on dice and cards they’ve played; the tile goes to the player with the most fate points, and to the start player if there’s a tie.

There are two card functions that seem especially valuable, to the point that you’d probably never want to play them for their dice unless you have no choice. One type lets you peek at one or two relics – yours or your opponent’s – which is almost solely about figuring out where the cursed ones are. You can use other cards to switch relics, including your opponent’s, so in theory you could switch your opponent’s to make them lose the gamer. (You can’t swap one of your relics for one of your opponent’s, however.) The other type that seems especially valuable lets you gain two cards, it’s valuable because you don’t automatically replenish your hand each turn. The player who doesn’t win the tile in a round draws three cards, keeping two and handing the other player the third. Thus it doesn’t take very long to run short of cards, and a big part of your strategy has to involve gaining cards.

Nagaraja also has some take-that cards in the game, including one unique card that lets you place a separate tile with no paths on your opponent’s board, and cards that let you move or rotate your opponents’ tiles. It seems like those cards are useful if you really fall behind, but if you’re close it’ll probably be more productive to try to build out your own board, especially once you know where your 6-point relics are.

Some tiles have spaces for amulet tokens, which can be worth 1 or 2 points, let you draw extra cards (the most valuable), or let you cancel the effect of a card your opponent has just played. This felt like the one game feature that was a rule too many, just one feature that the game didn’t need and that added more pieces to manage on the table without a huge benefit. Those functions could have been on cards, for example, although the amulets are kept secret from your opponent. You’re managing cards, rolling dice, placing tiles, creating paths on your board (and maybe rerouting them to get to different relics), and also have a couple of amulets. Somehow it all added up to one game element too many – but there’s also a strong balance here of strategy and randomness, and the game is fairly well balanced for two players, with the potential for high interaction between them. It’s a solid game that didn’t speak to me, one I can see is objectively good but probably won’t play that much myself given the other two-player options I have in the house.

Lent.

Jo Walton’s Among Others was one of my favorite novels from my reading of (nearly) all of the Hugo winners, a perfect use of fantasy elements to elevate a brilliant story, rather than relying on the fantasy (or sci-fi) bits to provide the entertainment. Her latest novel, Lent, goes a bit further in leaning on a single fantastical quirk to take the real-life story of Girolamo Savonarola, a martyred monk in 1490s Italy who was believed to have the gift of prophecy, and turn it into an extensive meditation on how small choices in our lives can have extensive, long-lasting effects on our world.

The first third or so of the book seems like a straightforward telling of the last six years of Girolamo’s life, from 1492 until the infamous “bonfire of the vanities” that led to a turning of public sentiment against him and his eventual imprisonment, torture, and hanging at the hands of the “do as we say, not as we do” Catholic Church. Girolamo preaches against corruption and secular art, gets under the skin of the Pope and other powerful clergy, and eventually they manage to win the political battle and execute him. After his death, however, we learn something about Girolamo before he returns to earth, back in 1492, to try it all over again – but this time with the knowledge of what transpired in his previous life, as well as that new bit of information, and thus can alter his choices to see if he can get the outcome he ultimately desires. He’ll fail again, return to earth, make new decisions, fail again, and so on until the final chapter where we will learn if he gets it “right” in the last attempt in the novel.

That conceit itself isn’t new, but the reason Girolamo gets to play life as a sort of role-playing game where he restarts from his last save is a new twist that provides a stark backdrop to the choices he makes – and, in many ways, makes some of them more selfless than before. Walton thus gives us a meditation on free will and chaos theory within a story about grace and salvation, one that upends traditional Catholic theology while playing around within its borders. There’s a slow build in the first section, but once you see what’s going on, and Girolamo himself is armed with the same knowledge, the entire concept becomes more interesting, and every subsequent decision that he makes carries much more weight, even when you know that it’s going to ultimately fail and lead him back to restart the cycle from some point in his past.

Girolamo himself makes for a fascinating protagonist as Walton writes him, although I think she’s softened his character a little to emphasize his generosity of spirit and belief in the church as a way to spread the religious and mundane philosophies of Jesus Christ in the world, thus deemphasizing to some extent his puritanical beliefs and attacks on secular art and culture. There’s one scene of a burning of secular or “profane” works, although even within that Girolamo is presented as more resigned to the event than the fanatic he appears to have actually been. He becomes friends with more than one character who is committing adultery, including a woman who would certainly have been seen as “fallen” in that time, which seems like it may not have been consistent with the actual Girolamo (although it’s a reasonable use of poetic license).

The magic of Walton’s writing seems to be in the getting there more than the destination itself, as I think it’s fairly clear where Lent is likely to end; it’s how Walton gets to that point that captivates. I wish she’d been able to give a bit more depth to the panoply of characters around Girolamo, many of whom are interesting even when a bit two-dimensional and just required more page time to help flesh them out, but the main character is so fascinating – as is the side character Crookback, whose real-life identity may be apparent to astute readers – that the book still soars without it.

Next up: José Saramago’s The Double.

English muffin bread.

When I was a kid, my grandmother made a very specific type of bread for me and my sister that was a staple of our diets, something we’d eat every day for breakfast for about a week until both loaves were gone. It’s a very simple milk bread, but toasted with butter it’s amazing, and, of course, now every bite evokes many memories of childhood and of my grandmother, who died in 2014 seven months after her 100th birthday.

I’ve had the recipe since I left college, but I made it maybe once or twice before she died, even though she pretty much stopped making it in her early 90s when she lost the forearm strength to knead the dough. She died right after Christmas in 2014, and after I came home from the funeral, I made the bread for the first time in years as a way to remember her while I grieved. My daughter loves the bread too, and we make it a few times a year, usually together now because she’s turned into quite a good cook as well. I think my grandmother, whom my daughter was lucky enough to know and will always remember because she was 8 when my grandmother died, would be so happy to know we’re still making that recipe today.

I made this bread last week and posted pictures on my Instagram account, where several of you asked in the comments for the recipe, so I’m posting that here. This recipe calls for instant yeast, which is all I use – I buy bricks of the SAF brand, usually from King Arthur, and keep it in the fridge for years. If you use rapid-rise yeast, you should follow the instructions on the package for that. Also, my grandmother always used all-purpose flour; I have also made this with bread flour, which produces a stronger loaf with a tighter crumb.

English muffin bread

1 cup milk

2 Tbsp sugar

1 tsp salt

3 Tbsp butter

1 cup water

2¼ tsp instant yeast

5 ½ cups (675 g) flour

corn meal for dusting

1. Scald milk, then stir in sugar, salt, and butter till dissolved. Add water to bring to lukewarm (about 115 F).

2. Add yeast to flour, then combine with liquids and stir until a dough forms. Knead about ten minutes on a floured surface until tacky but not sticky.

3. Place in an oiled bowl and let rise until doubled, about one hour.

4. Divide the dough in half, shape into loaves, roll in corn meal (optional), and place into oiled loaf pans. Let rise again until doubled, about another hour.

5. Score the tops of the loaves and bake 25 minutes at 400 degrees, rotating once. Remove from the pans to cool on a rack as soon as you can handle them.

If you’re really into making bread, I can’t recommend Peter Reinhart’s books highly enough, including his Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Whole Grain Breads, and Artisan Breads Everyday.