#30 - "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak

I'm feeling a little spoiled because I haven't read two such good books in a row for a long time. Actually, I started this book a little hesitantly. All I had heard was that The Book Thief (2006) by Markus Zusak was an excellent "young adult" novel. I assumed from the title that it would be some kind of fun mystery/adventure, so I was a little surprised to discover that it actually took place during World War II in Germany. And it looked downright lengthy. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the depression of reading about war and suffering for over 500 pages, but I had already checked it out of the library, so I gave it a shot.

And I really liked it. I kind of wish I had bought this book because I honestly don't want to give it back. Maybe it helped that I had low expectations, but I got so attached to the characters I couldn't put the book down, and then it broke my heart in such a tragic, bittersweet, unsentimental way that it's now imprinted on my psyche.

The story surrounds Liesel Meminger, a nine-year-old girl, who is delivered by her mother to Molching, Germany and her new foster parents, Rosa and Hans Hubermann in the late 1930's. Her younger brother dies on the train ride to Molching, which is Death's first interaction with the little girl. Besides the fact that her father is a "Kommunist," it is unclear both to Liesel and the reader exactly how and why she ended up a foster child in Molching, but it is clear that her mother cannot care for her and that she is completely alone.

The rest of the story deals with the relationships Liesel makes in Molching, a small town near Munich. Liesel immediately bonds with the patient and sweet Hans Hubermann when he sits with her through her nightmares and teaches her how to read. Her foster mother, Rosa Hubermann is boorish and profane but cares for Liesel in her own way. Liesel also befriends Rudy Steiner, her next door neighbor, and over the years they develop the sweetest young relationship that is coarse, realistic, and incredibly caring. They understand and support each other while stealing food and books, playing soccer, and dealing with the effects of the war. Without a thought Rudy jumps into a freezing river in the middle of Winter to rescue a lost book. His actions, and his knowledge of how much that book means to Liesel, more accurately describe their relationship than any words they ever speak to each other. In addition, Hans Hubermann eventually brings Max Vandenburg, a Jew in hiding, to live in their basement, and Liesel and Max quickly become friends over their shared nightmares and love of words.

This story is narrated by Death, a figure that has to take the souls of the dead away, which happens quite often during that time. Death is partially distracted from this dreary work by the little girl he sees on the train and pays attention when he spots her a couple more times in subsequent years. Death is the perfect narrator as he tells the personal story of Liesel Meminger because he automatically brings a broader perspective that makes it easier to see Liesel's story in the context of World War II. Zusak manages to make an endearing story about a little girl in a small, idiosyncratic German town as well as explore the themes of war, the Holocaust, death, love, both the negative and positive extremes of human action, and the power of words.

#29 - "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga

I was just turning off the radio one day when I heard the tail-end of a program discussing how The White Tiger (2008) by Aravind Adiga had just won the Man Booker Prize. I missed any discussion of the actual book except for a couple sentences where someone (who might have had something to do with awarding the prize) said that it was extraordinary, which was enough for me. So, having no idea what I was getting into, I searched out The White Tiger, and I'm really glad I did because I found a truly entertaining story and mystery, insight into India and its class struggles, and truly memorable characters. It's now one of my favorite books.

Balram Halwai, the narrator and protagonist of the story, grew up in a small village in the poor interior of India, son of a rickshaw driver. His father wants him to go to school and make something of himself. Balram is not sure what this means, but he cannot imagine anything grander than being the local bus driver, a job that entails both a uniform and whistle. Although Balram does well in school, he is taken out quite early in order to work at the local tea shop and earn money for his family. His necessary quest for funds sends him to a larger city where he manages to become a driver for a rich man, Mr. Ashok.

But this book has so many more layers than the story of a boy who manages to make a little money. We learn of Balram's life through a letter that he dictates to the Chinese Premier. Balram hears that Premier Jiabao is coming to visit India and wants to give him a more realistic picture of the country, rather than the glossed-over, P.R. approved version he is sure to hear. At this point, all the reader knows is that Balram says he has become a success and that he is a murderer. Balram then fills in the details of his life and how he became a success in the unique recounting of his life. His story is thoroughly entertaining, sometimes sarcastic, angry, funny, and touching. Perhaps most memorable is Balram's account of the state of India, including the incredible corruption on all levels, as well as the attitudes and lives of the different classes. Somehow Adiga manages to punch you in the gut with some of the injustices without losing the character of the story.

Now, just a slight digression. When I was in the middle of reading this novel, I happened to have The Tonight Show on, and I saw Jay Leno talking to the actress from Slumdog Millionaire (which I want to see but haven't been able to yet). Leno was saying something about how the slums of Mumbai were in the movie, but they were also somehow beautiful. And then the actress responded that yes, the slums were everywhere, you couldn't get away from them, but they really were beautiful. My first thought, besides being uncomfortable with their awkward attempt to possibly dispel any negative discussion of the slums of Mumbai (I'm actually not sure what their point was, maybe because I haven't seen the movie, but I got the feeling they were reading unconvincingly from a script), was a skeptical, "oh yeah? I can't imagine Balram would describe them that way."

And Balram is unflinchingly direct and to-the-point when it comes to the lives of the poor and the "rooster cage" they are stuck in that makes it impossible for their lives to improve. In fact, the most affecting aspect of the novel was the suffocating portrayal of the classes. Balram makes himself an exception and improves his lot, but he is also a murderer who dictates letters to Premiers, which just goes to underscore what it takes to break away from where you were born. And Mr. Ashok, Balram's boss, is educated in America and comes back to India with a slightly different and more compassionate view of his servants and dislike of corruption, yet it is these morals and compassion that make him weak and less successful in India. And even as I was reading the dictation to the Premier, I was thinking that in the real world, no one would ever hear Balram's story. The Chinese Premier certainly wouldn't read a letter by an unknown, somewhat egomaniacal murderer, and Balram doesn't actually know enough English to communicate with English speakers. So, even as Balram tells the story of the poor and disenfranchised, the book simultaneously illustrates how voiceless the poor really are.

#28 - "The Reason for God" by Timothy Keller

I'm the kind of person who wants the structure, ideals, safety, and purpose of a world with a personal God. I like the idea of having something clear, substantial, and worthwhile to live and strive for besides yourself. But if I pretended that I believed in God, it would be no more than me imagining that the Grimm fairytales had come to life. I can't escape the thought that throughout history, people have consistently made up supernatural stories to explain what they don't understand. How can I possibly believe that I just happened to be born in the time and place where people finally got it right? And then I look at some of the newer religions (where their origins are not shrouded from our eyes by 2,000 years of history), and they are so preposterous I can't be a part of it. And it's not that I haven't given it a shot. I grew up going to church and was a part of youth groups through my adolescent years. Ironically enough, it was the strong concentration of judgmental hypocrites in these groups that turned me off religion entirely.

I recently read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, which I found utterly fascinating and refreshing. Being somewhat averse to religion but never really thinking it through, I really enjoyed Dawkins' banter and scientific perspective (although his banter might be more offensive to those who don't agree with him). But I also like to be fair, and I don't think I get the whole picture until I get both sides of the story, so I started looking for a pro-Jesus book. I started with, There is a God: How the World's Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind by Antony Flew. I abandoned this one quickly, however, because I was immediately bored out of my mind by the wordy philosophical discussions. I could have chosen some b.s. by Pat Robertson or someone similar, but I was interested in challenging my viewpoint, not confirming it and getting pissed off in the process. So, a quick library catalog search later and I had found The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism (2008) by Timothy Keller.

Timothy Keller was pastor of a small blue-collar town in Hopewell, Virginia before moving to Manhattan and founding the Redeemer Presbyterian Church in 1989. Apparently he has been very successful in relating to all those young, urban skeptics, and much of this book comes from experiences he's had in "pastoring" and counseling in New York City. Although he is Presbyterian, Keller's goal in this book is to generally defend all Christianity as long as they believe in the trinity of God, that Jesus died for our sins, and that Jesus was resurrected.

Keller uses the first half of the book to address some of the major problems people have with Christianity, including: how God can allow suffering; how a loving God can send people to hell for eternity; science and Christianity; the fact that religion is divisive; and the fact that religion is responsible for so much injustice. On the whole, I thought this part of the book was a little weaker than the rest. I almost always had counterarguments for his points, and I couldn't escape the feeling that there was just too much rationalization. Keller's response to many different critiques is: You're saying that it's impossible for me to know my religion is the right one and I'm arrogant for believing it? Well, isn't your belief that my religion or any religion is false just as arrogant an assumption? I get Keller's point here, even though I think my saying: "I don't know exactly where life came from" is much less far-fetched than: "And God made Adam and Eve and put them in a garden and then Eve ate an apple when a snake told her to and that's why women are wicked and why we live in hell." But I agreed with Keller's opinion that someone can easily believe in God and the theory of evolution at the same time; it's only the crazies that have to believe it's completely literal in the face of overwhelming scientific evidence. I also applaud Keller's attempt to discuss the very real weaknesses that face religion, and I admire his honesty (Keller flat-out agrees that religion is divisive).

In the second half of the book, Keller focuses on reasons for believing in God as well as describing the importance of the gospel, the story of the cross, and the resurrection. I found this second section a little more convincing than the first half of the book. I really like Keller's interpretation of the Bible and Christianity, and his perspective on the familiar stories from the Bible and how they relate to humanity was interesting and sometimes eye-opening.

So, did Keller convince me to repent and become a real Christian? No, that would be too much to ask. But I was impressed by a number of things in Keller's book. Most importantly, Keller managed to clearly advocate his beliefs without being dismissive, divisive, arrogant, or rude. He was able to start a dialogue without being alienating, which was a refreshing relief. I could disagree with him or be unconvinced and still not feel defensive or angry. Perhaps this was partly because Keller stays away from some of the social issues (that I feel really strongly about) where churches are often so preachy and judgmental, such as abortion and gay marriage, and instead focuses on Jesus and how we can improve our lives and become better people, but I was glad I could make it through a religious book without yelling at it or feeling disgusted. In fact, if more people could follow Keller's view of God and the bible, Christians might have a better reputation.

#27 - "Throne of Jade" by Naomi Novik

Throne of Jade (2006) by Naomi Novik is the second book in the "Temeraire" fantasy series. I read the first one a couple months ago and have since decided to read the whole series. I think five of the books have been published so far, with a total of nine planned.

Throne of Jade continues the story of the rare dragon, Temeraire, and his handler Captain Laurence in the early 1800's. The Chinese are angry that the dragon egg they sent as a gift to Napoleon was stolen by Captain Laurence, and they insist that Temeraire be brought back to China. England's hands are full with its war with France and does not want to anger China or threaten its trade relations, so they agree to send Temeraire back to China. Because Temeraire refuses to go anywhere without Laurence, he goes along with them, neither knowing what will occur when they reach China.

I don't have too much more to say about this story that I didn't say about the first. I enjoyed reading it, even though part of me wished Laurence and Temeraire back in England where there was more excitement. The relationship between Laurence and Temeraire is sweet, and the Chinese dragons and their lives not only expand the world of the series, but also provide an interesting contrast to the now familiar British way of breeding and living with dragons. Temeraire is a compelling, likeable character, who is incredibly loyal but also very independent. He doesn't particularly care about traditional rules and values, which makes him, as well as many of the other dragons, something of a rebel in the British Air Corps. I noticed in this book that Novik uses an inordinate number of colons, semi-colons, and commas, which was a little distracting, but on the whole I was entertained.

#26 - "I am Legend" by Richard Matheson

I recently watched Will Smith’s version of I am Legend, which made me curious enough about the original story to consider expanding my reading to the horror genre. Whether movies or books, horror is probably my least favorite. The only horror movie I’ve seen in the last five years was Shaun of the Dead, and I’m not even sure if that one counts. But I’ve been reading so many books lately, it’s a good excuse to branch out and read some things I wouldn’t otherwise.

Like most of my reading material, I picked up I am Legend at the library. Fortunately the copy I found had I am Legend as well as ten other short stories written by Richard Matheson. This was fortunate because I am Legend has only 170 pages, and even though I don’t mind flouting the reading contest rules when appropriate, I don’t want to do it for every book I read. So, the ten other short stories added another 150 pages to the book, making it more than adequate in length.

I’ll start with the title story and reason for reading this book in the first place, I am Legend (1954). Robert Neville is alone in the world, having survived an epidemic that swept the earth, killing people and turning them into vampire creatures. The creatures cannot stand the sun and go into a coma-like state during the day, but at night they come and attack his embattled house. Robert Neville’s life consists of the monotonous tasks of daily survival, constant loneliness and despair, killing as many vampires and diseased individuals as he can, as well as learning as much as possible about what’s happened to everyone.

Despite my general aversion to horror stories, I enjoyed reading I am Legend. Neville’s daily survival is interesting, and Matheson slowly leaks out information about Neville, his past, his present, and the specifics about the vampires so that the book often reads like a mystery. I also liked comparing the book and the movie. The movie changed the location to NYC, changed the cause of the disease, and changed some of the aspects of the disease for story purposes. Most of these changes, I think, made for a better movie. Seeing Robert Neville tearing through a deserted and lonely Times Square is much more visually captivating—horrific C.G. deer notwithstanding—than seeing him wander around a nondescript suburb. The movie also captured Neville’s loneliness and solitude quite well, managing to have the same feeling of the book, without being tied down to all the particulars. The main difference between the two is the ending. The book’s ending fits the story perfectly and ironically, making the entire story meaningful and more memorable, but the movie strays too far from the book for its last chapter and suffers by comparison. And I say this after also having seen the alternate end on DVD. Of course, now that I’ve seen both, I’m having a hard time remembering which was the “original” movie ending, but I prefer to selectively remember only the first 2/3 of the movie anyway.

I was not as impressed by the ten other short stories included in this book. The problem might again have been the genre, but I did not find them nearly as absorbing or thoughtful as the main story. I guess they were all generally well-written and the characters were often interesting enough that they weren’t painful to read about, but I was glad when I finally finished. Merely throwing in the undead or talking about funerals doesn’t do anything for me. Only one story even kind of scared me, and I think that’s because it was about a young, single woman who was attacked in her apartment—even though she was attacked by a miniature doll, so even then I wasn’t that scared.

One other issue I had with Matheson’s writing was the way he wrote about women, which I’m sure was partly a product of the times when he wrote. The 1950’s weren’t exactly a banner year for women’s issues. In the book I am Legend, Robert Neville states when he finally meets another human—a woman—that he would have “violated” her if it had been a couple years earlier because, y’know, men have needs. I tried to imagine Will Smith raping the woman he meets up with in the movie because he’s horny, and it didn’t work. Perhaps this is just a sign that men have improved in the last 50 years, or at least the men I know.

Matheson’s most annoying take on women is in his short story entitled From Shadowed Places where a rich, playboy has a curse put on him by a Zulu witch doctor while he is trophy hunting in Africa. Fortunately his fiance has an old friend from school who spent some time in Africa, learning under a witch doctor, and knows how to deal with these things. The playboy is wary because she is black and a woman but doesn’t have much of a choice. Fortunately she is a busty, black woman and she saves him by dancing around naked in front of him with his fiance and father-in-law watching, and then having sex with him and drawing the demon into herself. I sometimes felt as if I were reading the script to a really bad porno movie. Besides the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything more to this story than Matheson’s weird sex fantasy, I was also bothered by the fact that he persistently defined the women in the story as feeling shamed. The woman who saved his life felt “shamed” when she walked into the room topless. And then later in the story his fiance felt “shamed,” perhaps because she felt she shouldn’t have resisted when she watched her friend have sex with her husband-to-be. I didn’t appreciate the constant connection between women’s sexuality and shame, and I’m sure it didn’t help that I didn’t particularly like most of his short stories.

#25 - "Articles of War" by Nick Arvin

I should probably admit up front that Articles of War (2005) by Nick Arvin is only 178 pages long, and therefore does not technically conform to the rules and regulations of this reading contest. Fortunately for me, I’ve decided those rules only apply to the two “official” contestants, especially if it’s a book I want to read.

Articles of War was the novel chosen for “One Book, One Denver” for the year 2007. Since I like the idea of an entire city (or whoever feels like it) reading the same book, I decided to go back and read all the books from the “One Book, One Denver” program. Fortunately, it’s only been in place since 2004, so I only have two more books to read.

Articles of War begins with a letter written by Private Eddie D. Slovik to General Eisenhower on December 9, 1944.

How can I tell you how humbley sorry I am for the sins Ive committed. I didn’t realize at the time what I was doing, or what the word desertion meant. What it is like to be condemned to die. I beg of you deeply and sincerely for the sake of my dear wife and mother back home to have mercy on me. To my knowledge I have a good record since my marriage and as a soldier. I’d like to continue to be a good soldier.

Anxiously awaiting your reply, which I earnestly pray is favorable, God bless you in your Work for Victory:

I Remain Yours for Victory

This letter fueled some premonitions I had for what I was about to read, but I wasn’t certain where it was going. The story follows an eighteen year old boy from the midwest who was drafted to fight in WWII. The other soldiers nickname him “Heck” because he promised his mother he wouldn’t curse. Heck is quiet and solitary, and also young, naïve, and inexperienced. He’s a hard worker and wants to do well and prove himself worthy, but he also has no idea what he’s going into and he’s scared and confused.

Arvin does a fantastic job of describing the war through the eyes of Heck, who turns out to be a very believable and sympathetic character. Heck spends some time at the front lines, in the thick of the fighting, yet most of the time he has no idea where he is, what their objective is, or how to go about achieving it. I really felt the monotony, confusion, terror, and utter discomfort that Heck went through, even as a part of him yearned to be a hero.

I generally don’t enjoy reading books about war, but this one is so pointed and human that I really appreciated it. Personally, I think leaders of countries and armies, playing their games of power, should be held morally accountable for turning young adults—barely matured—into killers, and then sending them into battle to die while they hide behind convenient cloaks of nationalistic patriotism and duty. Arvin sympathetically portrays what one of these young men went through while struggling to survive.

#24 - "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" by David Wroblewski

I heard of The Story of Edgar Sawtelle (2008) by David Wroblewski through some surprisingly diverse channels including the Pajiba review, my father, and Oprah. The fact that all three sources liked and recommended this book is even more surprising. The only thing I knew about the plot was that it had something to do with a boy and some dogs, but I’ve always liked animals and the three separate recommendations had me putting it on my “read as soon as possible” list.

First, I have to definitively reiterate what I’ve heard from other sources about reading the book jacket before reading the book. I just happened to look over the book jacket again when I was about halfway through reading it. Having had just read the last 200 pages with tense anticipation and wonder and worry, I was astounded to see the main plot details thrown out in a couple of wasted sentences on the side of the book. I’m sure readers could still enjoy it having read the spoilers, but I sincerely believe the less you know going in the better.

Thus, I will skip any discussion of the plot, which actually isn’t even as important as the characters of the book and how they think and act and interact. I haven’t read a novel that drew me in so completely in a long time. I got so involved with the characters, that it was hard for me to put the book down. Edgar Sawtelle is a boy who lives in rural Wisconsin on his family’s farm where he and his parents, Gar and Trudy, breed and train dogs. Edgar was born mute and communicates primarily with his own version of sign language. The story follows Edgar but also delves into the lives of his mother, father, and some other characters that have a presence in his life. But a number of important characters are also the dogs in Edgar’s life. Now, I’m a dog lover, but Wroblewski manages to bring the dogs’ personalities and mindsets alive in a credible and captivating way. In short, Wroblewski made me believe in and care about the characters, so the actions that affect them throughout the story really mattered to me.


SPOILER PARAGRAPHS:
I was so engrossed in the characters, without a clue of what was going to happen, that I was actually very surprised when Edgar discovers that his father was murdered and the murderer was Claude. When I first started Part II of the book, entitled “Three Griefs,” I was thinking the three griefs would be the deaths of his father, his mother, and his wonderful dog Almondine, leaving him alone in the world. Obviously, I was anticipating a drastically different novel, but when I finally read that Edgar’s uncle had murdered his father and moved in with his mother, I realized it had to be based on Hamlet.

The part of the book I related to the most, however, was the relationship between Edgar and Almondine. Wroblewski managed to capture an incredibly strong connection between the boy and his dog. Their comeraderie and companionship was constant and reassuring, so whenever they were separated, I worried. Edgar also had a special relationship with three of the dogs whom he had trained from birth: Essay, Timber, and Baboo. Essay was smart, determined, and independent. Timber was high-energy and a little flighty, while Baboo was stable, patient, and loyal. I enjoyed the interactions between Edgar and these dogs as well, but Almondine was always Edgar’s true partner.

I was a little dissatisfied when I finally finished the novel, but I think this was mainly because I wanted more. I still had unanswered questions. I couldn’t figure out why Essay left with some of the dogs, where they were going, why they had to leave, and how they wouldn’t starve. I’m still not sure of the importance of the stray dog, Forte, in the story and why Edgar lured him back to the farm in the end. And I think that Edgar’s mother finally understood everything that happened, but that isn’t completely clear. And I certainly wouldn’t have minded if the story went on for a little bit longer, so I could find out what happens with Edgar’s mother, the sheriff, and the Sawtelle dogs. But just the fact that I’m still thinking about the book and wanting more shows what a powerful story this was for me.

#23 - "Secrets of the Savanna" by Mark & Delia Owens

I often live vicariously through a friend of mine because I (not-so-secretly) yearn for a life like hers. She is a biologist who married a fellow biologist, and their life is a constant stream of exploring new places and cultures as they research wildlife around the world. One year they are staked out in Maine studying birds, and the next they are spending four months in the wilds of Kyrgyzstan as they study snow leopards. Mark & Delia Owens, the co-authors of Secrets of the Savanna (2006) are like an extreme version of these friends.

Secrets of the Savanna is apparently the third book by Mark & Delia Owens. Cry of the Kalahari and The Eye of the Elephant detail some of their earlier adventures in Africa while Secrets of the Savanna focuses primarily on the later years the couple spent in the North Luangwa National Park in Zambia, researching and protecting the elephants and other animals within the park. I just saw this book set out at the library and the title and picture captured my attention. I'm a sucker for books on Africa.

The prologue states that in 1971, as young college students, Mark and Delia Owens took temporary leave from their graduate programs in order to make some money to fund research in Africa. In 1974 they married, auctioned off all their belongings, bought one-way tickets, and flew to Johannesburg, South Africa. They eventually found themselves in the Kalahari, where they spent seven years of their lives. When forced to move on, they discovered the Luangwa National Park in Zambia where they set up the North Luangwa Conservation Project and stayed for over ten years.

When Mark & Delia Owens arrive in Zambia, the great elephants that used to live there had been decimated, 93% of them having been killed by illegal poachers looking to make money through ivory and meat. There were only 1,300 elephants left, 84% of whom were female and 16% male. Their unique and complex family social systems had been completely disrupted and in another 5-10 years, they would most likely have been completely wiped out. The government had pretty much given up on the park, and seven rangers, who had not been paid in months, were in charge of protecting the entire area. It was impossible to even use eco-tourism at the beginning to help out the park because of the huge gangs of illegal poachers and the lack of animals. The authors, well-equipped (mainly by donations, I think) with a plane, helicopter, and other equipment were able to help get more rangers and more equipment dedicated to protecting the park, research the effect of the poachers on the elephants, and encourage the people living around the park to protect their wildlife through conservation education and employment opportunities. In some ways, this book reads like a fantastic adventure novel. Mark flies around in a helicopter, trying to locate and dissuade poachers. Lions once actually came into Mark and Delia's tent. And date night for Mark and Delia includes flying a helicopter to a rocky outcropping in the middle of a river, in the middle of a series of waterfalls, for dinner and camping.

I should just say that I loved this book, but more because of the subject matter than anything else. I have always had a kind of love affair with Africa. A grand continent where life started and huge herds of exotic animals still roam the lands. It's beautiful, and I want more than anything to travel there someday. Sometimes I wonder if I could just drop everything and head over to Africa. But as a romantic view as I have of Africa and its wildlife, I'm still aware of the devastating problems in the continent, and how many of these problems stem from westerners continually exploiting the people and natural resources. I approved of the way Mark and Delia appreciated the people and culture around them and did more more than fly in and only protect the animals. Their concerted efforts to not only research the flora and fauan in the park, but also protect the animals from poaching, increase healthcare, education and create sustainable economies for the areas surrounding the park is a lot to take on. And these tasks were made even more difficult by corrupt individuals in the government who were trying to shut them down. As much as I sometimes wanted to be in their position, I really don't think I would have been able to deal with the pressure, danger, and slow progress that followed them throughout their time in Africa.

#22 - "Personal History" by Katharine Graham

If I'm going to be reading and learning about history, I think the biography or autobiography is one of the best ways to do it. Sure, you only get a narrow view of the time period, but you also get a more personal view of history, which is infinitely more relatable and interesting. Also, looking at a person's entire life, including where they came from, how they grew up, what influenced them, what hardships they faced, and where they ended up is fascinating. Add to that a truly interesting person and a good writer, and you have the formula for books I'd like to read.

Not surprisingly, I found Personal History (1997) in the bookstore. I probably wouldn't have even noticed it, but it was on the "award winners" shelf, having won itself a Pulitzer. I may as well admit that I had never even heard of Katharine Graham, but the book jacket mentioned the Washington Post and Watergate and the presence of the shiny award on the cover convinced me to give it a try.

So I dug into this book. It's pretty long and involved, and I ended up reading just a chapter a day in order to continue reading other books at the same time. Personal History is an autobiography of Katharine Graham. She discusses her entire life, beginning with the background of each of her parents and ending in 1997 when she is 80 years old. This book is a glimpse of history through a privileged and well-connected woman living in Washington, D.C. through some of the most exciting and turbulent decades in our country's recent history. From her early years in New York and her adolescence and adulthood in Washington, D.C., she grew up unimaginably wealthy and in a social circle that is hard for me to even fathom. She casually mentions a summer trip to Europe where she met Einstein. In fact, many of the names of friends and acquaintances she mentions I know only as institutions, such as Getty and Fulbright. The Washington Post also plays a large role, both in Katharine's life as well as in the book. Her father buys the failing newspaper in the early 1930's at an auction and devotes a lot of time and resources to its improvement.

In her early 20's, Katharine Graham marries a brilliant young man, Philip Graham, who was clerking for Felix Frankfurter of the U.S. Supreme Court, and after World War II Phil Graham takes over the leadership at the Washington Post and Katharine Graham becomes a supportive wife and mother to her kids. After Philip Graham's death, Katharine inherits leadership of the Post, and even with her lack of experience, she is determined to keep the company in order to pass onto her sons. Graham faces problems of entrenched sexism and her own inexperience as well as the constant issues of development and growth of the newspaper. She details such notable historical incidents as: The Pentagon Papers, Watergate, and the Pressmen's Strike from her unique perspective. In addition, Graham was always a part of the elite Washington social circle where important business and political leaders apparently often gather together at dinner parties.

This book was a surprisingly fascinating read. There are so many interesting aspects to the story of Graham's life that from the second chapter on, I was completely drawn in. (The first chapter only talks about Graham's parents, which is necessary foundation, but not as interesting as when she talks about her own life). First, there was the growing up and living in the ultra-rich and ultra-powerful circles where Graham found herself her entire life. It was commonplace for her to be friends with and spend time with various Presidents and other V.I.P.'s. She talks about throwing dinner parties, hanging out on yachts with the rich and famous, and traveling around the world as if money is no hindrance to her (which it is not). But then she also tells of how she had to go to dance class when she was young with an ill-fitted hand-me-down dress of one of her sisters, not because they couldn't afford a new one, but probably because her mother had not bothered to buy her one. I found myself sometimes jealous of her easy life, lack of monetary worries, and high social connections. I wish I could say, "Daddy, I like San Francisco, can you get me a job there?" However, Graham is not a spoiled socialite, but comes across as a likeable person and a hard worker, so even though I envied some aspects of her life, it didn't keep me from relating to her.

The second aspect of Graham's life that I really enjoyed reading about was her personal life. Graham talks frankly and honestly about her sometimes difficult and distanced relationship with her mother. She even writes that she thinks her mother never really loved her children, which must have been hard for her to face, not to mention print. She also talks incredibly honestly and openly about her relationship with her husband, who suffered from manic-depression. It was almost heartbreaking to read how she struggled through this time of her life. And even writing about it decades later, I am surprised by how forgiving and objective she can be. Yet Graham still managed to be circumspect when it came to details about her love life, especially later in life. In discussing a friendship with Jean Monnet, Graham wrote, "The thrill for me of being with him never disappeared as long as he lived. He was energetic and interesting, and I can testify to his virility." This is the most explicit she gets about any man in this book. I found myself saying, "Wait. Virility??? Does that mean you two were an item? Come on, give the details if you're going to tease me like that!"

The third aspect of the book that I really enjoyed, of course, was Graham's discussion of the paper and its growth and development through the years. Sometimes it was a little hard to keep track of all the executives and who did what well and who had to be replaced, but on the whole the account was absorbing. Graham's account of Watergate was especially nailbiting. Without ever being melodramatic, I felt the tension and worry that was reverberating throughout the paper as they battled a popular President Nixon, not even imagining how it all would end. Along with these stories is how Graham managed to become a leader at the paper with very little experience, and how the woman's movement affected her as she got older. Having picked up this book with little knowledge of the person or its contents, I found a woman's life story that is well-written and engaging on many different levels.

#21 - "Snoop" by Sam Gosling, Ph.D

Snoop (2008) by Sam Gosling is another one of those books that sucked me in when I spied it on a display shelf at the bookstore. It looked relatively engaging, and I’ve always had a lingering interest in Psychology, so I decided to give it a try.

If I’m remembering correctly, Sam Gosling is a Psychology professor at the University of Texas at Austin. When he was doing his graduate work at Berkeley he began studying how people’s personalities are displayed in different ways through their living spaces. Gosling describes a number of different studies that have looked at dorm rooms, offices, webpages, favorite music, and appearances to see not only what aspects people use to determine someone’s personality, but also how correct they were in their guesses.

Gosling is an interesting writer. He manages to write clearly, with enough science to make the book meaningful but not so much that you feel like you’ve been transported back to school. There’s certainly nothing shocking or groundbreaking here. In fact, much of it is probably unimportant in the scheme of things or simple common sense, but I found it consistently absorbing (maybe just because I like Psychology) and I definitely learned something.

Gosling begins Snoop by outlining the five different traits used in Psychology to depict someone’s personality. These traits include: Openness, Conscientiousness, Extraversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism. He describes what these terms mean and why they’re sometimes preferable to the perhaps more well-known Meyers-Briggs personality test. After offering a mini five-traits test for the reader, the rest of the book uses the framework of the five traits to show what different aspects of people's personalities are evident in different areas of their lives. (The very short five-traits test offered in the book was rather unsatisfying, so I also took the more involved 120-question test mentioned in the book and offered on-line. I have to say, the Meyers-Briggs test is a little more fun. Saying I’m high on conscientiousness, and low on extraversion, etc. wasn’t as immediately satisfying or meaningful as getting those four letters (INTJ or INFJ for me) and a little story that goes along with them.)

Although Gosling’s research seems to primarily focus on people’s dorm rooms, offices, and web pages, he outlines a number of pertinent psychological studies from other researchers. One of these included videotaping 100 volunteers as they walk across a room, sit down and read a prepared statement, and walk away again. What I found most interesting about this study, as well as throughout the book was where the judges made mistakes about their subjects. Although the judges were pretty accurate at determining who of the volunteers were extraverted, they often thought they were determining who was high in Openness and Conscientiousness but getting it wrong. For instance, the judges looked at people who had a refined appearance, made-up face, fashionable dress, slim physique, friendly expression, and other factors to determine whether they were high in the Openness trait. However, none of these factors actually determined which people were open. So not only do most of these studies say what characteristics often display someone’s personality, but they also show what erroneous assumptions others can make about us.

Each of the many studies that Gosling discusses in this book has something specific and interesting that I took away. For instance, extraversion is one of the easiest personality types to pinpoint, and a short meeting—such as an interview—is one of the worst ways to get a rounded picture of someone’s personality. Also, depending on whether you are in an office or a bedroom, a private or public place, changes the meaning of things you find there. Gosling’s book is full of fun and interesting stories, including anecdotes of specific apartments and offices that he’s looked through, and it was a quick and enjoyable read.