Book Review

By Derryll White

Truman, Margaret (2001).  Murder In Havana.

            “His [Castro’s] rarest virtue is the ability to foresee the evolution of an event to the farthest reaching consequences.  He is a masterly chess player.”  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

One of the most graceful things a reader can do is say to another reader “Have you read this author?  Here – take this book, you might like it.” That is what happened to me with Margaret Truman.

She was the only child of President Harry S. Truman and First Lady Bess Truman.  She amassed a bibliography of nine non-fiction titles focused on her family and the White House, and at least 30 fiction titles in the Capital Crimes series.  Some claim she had help from ghostwriters, and that may be.  But suffice it to say I had never heard of her.

In ‘Murder In Havana,’ Truman takes the reader on an intimate tour of Cuba, graphically imparting the feelings of both the taxi drivers and bar maids, police and prostitutes, and the inner workings of Castro’s presidential office.  Her insights are revealing, her criticisms of the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency reasoned and documented.  For readers growing up in the 1960s her comments will jar loose many memories.

As many good writers do, Truman folds Cuba and its capital, Havana, into the story.  The gritty streets, Mafia history, old 1950s and ‘60s vehicles blend with the native sounds and rhythms to create a wonderful, moving background for what is essentially a spy story.

I quit reading Le Carré and C.I.A.-based material some time ago, but Margaret Truman’s continued exploration of Fidel Castro’s motives and psyche kept me hooked on ‘Murder In Havana.’  The author is very comfortable explaining corridors of power. One can only wonder what she would have done with Donald Trump.

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Excerpts from the novel:

CASTRO’S CUBA – They were led behind the Marti monument to the former Justice Ministry, now home of the Central Committee of the Communist Party, where Castro and his senior ministers conducted the nation’s business.

“Please do not attempt to take photographs of the building,” the escort warned.  “It is forbidden.”

PROPAGANDA – Castro’s face was ubiquitous, his picture on lampposts and on the sides of buildings.  Signs proclaiming SOCIALISMO O MUERTE – Socialism or Death – hung side by side with the Big Beard’s likeness glaring from billboards across the city.  On the opposite side of the street from the U.S. Interests Section, on Calle L, was Havana’s most photographed site, a huge, colorful billboard showing a crazed Uncle Sam glowering menacingly at a Cuban soldier, who is shouting , “Sénores imperialistas: No les tenemos absolutamente ningún miedo!”  “Mister imperialists: You don’t scare us at all!”

CHILDREN – A group of schoolchildren, eight or nine years old, wearing green-and-white uniforms, with teachers at the front and end of the line, crossed the street in front of him.  A uniformed PNR cop stopped traffic.  The scrubbed faces and laughter reminded him of when his sons were at that age, oblivious to governments and international conflict, unaware of corporations competing to reward their stockholders at any price, monetary or ethical, immersed only in their own young world of fantasy and dreams.

– Derryll White once wrote books but now chooses to read and write about them.  When not reading he writes history for the web at www.basininstitute.org.

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