The Tattered Cover story, a Tony Hillerman bio and more books to read in January

“Tattered Cover Book Store,” by Mark A. Barnhouse (History Press)

Denver’s Tattered Cover has sold millions of books in its 50 years of operation. It’s about time it got a book of its own. Urban historian Mark A. Barnhouse gives an upbeat history of the famed bookshop and one-time owner Joyce Meskis, who ran it for 40 years.

Meskis designed the Tattered with nooks and overstuffed chairs, a look later copied by chains. Employees were trained to be knowledgeable and courteous.

Thousands of celebrities held signings at the Tattered. Presidents Carter, Clinton and Obama were there, along with famous authors ranging from Doris Kearns Goodwin to Bob Hope. Shirley Temple Black signed books there for more than three hours, many to little girls dressed like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.

In 2002, Meskis became a hero of the First Amendment and readers’ rights to privacy when she refused to reveal a book purchased by a suspect in a drug case.

The book is a worthy tribute to a beloved institution.

“Eben Smith,” by David Forsyth (University Press of Colorado)

Eben Smith isn’t exactly a household name to Denverites, although most of us know his son’s mansion at the corner of East 18th Avenue and York Street, which still stands. According to biographer David Forsyth, Smith was the dean of Colorado mining.  For almost 50 years, he discovered or developed mines in all of the state’s important mining districts, including the Bobtail in Central City, one of the earliest Colorado gold mines, and the Little Jonny in Leadville.

Smith also was involved with most of the important Colorado mining men and politicians of his time: Tabor, Moffat, Chafee, even Ulysses S. Grant.

Forsyth is to be credited for his dogged research into Smith’s mining investments, although at times the listing of them is mind-numbing. Smith was astute and honest, which is why he was in such great demand. Still, his stock manipulations would draw scrutiny today.

His personal life was also scrupulous. Smith and his wife entertained lavishly in their home at 951 N. Logan (which has since been torn down and is now an apartment building). If there were improprieties in Smith’s life, they were kept under wraps. The same could not be said of his children. One son, Lemuel, was an alcoholic; he was left only a nominal amount in his father’s will. The son who built the York Street mansion, Frank, went through a nasty divorce and apparently committed suicide.

Combining the personal and business sides of Eben Smith, the biography tells the story of a forgotten giant and one of the state’s founding fathers.

“George Hearst,” by Matthew Bernstein (University of Oklahoma Press)

George Hearst is Eben Smith writ large. Really large. He was the most famous mining man in American history. In fact, according to author Matthew Bernstein, Hearst was “pathologically competitive.”

Hearst made fortunes in some of the greatest mining districts in the West. He found gold in California and in the Black Hills of South Dakota, Silver in the Comstock in Nevada, and Copper in Butte. He was ruthless in business and, like Eben Smith, Hearst was not above stock manipulation and trickery to achieve his ends. Despite his Midas touch, Hearst, also like Smith, stumbled when he invested in non-mining ventures.

Hearst and his wife, Phoebe, a cousin, lived lavishly. Phoebe planned dinners and balls that benefited Hearst’s political ambitions. Hearst decided to top his phenomenal mining career by being appointed to the Senate — where he was considered a bumpkin.  He was ill-informed on the issues of the day, and when he gave a rare speech, listeners guffawed at Hearst’s high-pitched voice and language.

Hearst was critical in the development of Western mining, but it is his wife and son whose legacies still impact America. Phoebe was a generous benefactor, giving millions to good causes, including education and women’s issues. Son William Randolph Hearst pioneered yellow journalism with the San Francisco Examiner. W.R. also left behind San Simeon and inspired the Orson Welles classic film “Citizen Kane.”

“Tony Hillerman: A Life,” by James McGrath Morris (University of Oklahoma Press)

Tony Hillerman was neither mining man nor community builder, but as a beloved author, he is better known worldwide today than the others. Hillerman created Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee, two Navajo policemen who have enthralled readers in 18 detective novels.

Hillerman came out of the Oklahoma Dust Bowl, was wounded and nearly blinded in World War II and later became a newspaperman. He was editor of Santa Fe’s daily. Tired of the grind, he became a university journalism professor.

All the while, he struggled to write novels. His travails and missteps will resonate with would-be writers who dream of Hillerman-like success. Part of that success was due to Hillerman’s wife, who cared for a household of kids, most of them adopted, and cleared the way for Hillerman to play spider solitaire on the living room coffee table. The incredibly boring game allowed Hillerman to ruminate on his plots and characters.

Hillerman’s books are best known for their Southwest settings and for his portrayal of Navajo life. Leaphorn was a throw-away character in the first novel who was then recycled into a cop. The name came off the top of Hillerman’s head, and he admitted there never was a Navajo named Leaphorn