#60 - "Sisters" by Jean H. Baker

I picked up Sisters: The Lives of America's Suffragists (2005) by Jean H. Baker as part of my long-lasting history kick that started after reading Assassination Vacation. Beyond the fact that women obtained the vote in 1920, I knew embarassingly little about the struggle for women to get the right to vote or the important players. Having grown up with the benefits of the feminist movement but without the struggle, I think I had always assumed that women obtaining the right to vote as well as obtaining further equality generally was just something that would have had to occur naturally with time. I don't think I gave enough credit to the strong, non-conformist women who challenged society's views about women, their role, and their worth, to make all the equality that I take for granted today even possible.

Sisters was a good introduction to the subject of women's suffrage. Baker took five prominent women suffrage leaders and filled out their personal and professional lives in a short biography for each. The women she chose to write about included: Lucy Stone, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Frances Willard, and Alice Paul. All the women were remarkably smart, strong, independent thinkers who challenged and changed the world with their unique styles. Stanton attacked what she called "man marriage" and religion while Willard used religion to argue for temperance and wanted women to have the vote because women, who were homemakers and loving mothers, could bring their good influence to society. And Alice Paul personally attacked Wilson's hypocrisy during World War I when he espoused the ideals of democracy while ignoring the twenty million women in his own country who could not vote.

These women faced great obstacles in their struggle, which started in 1848 when Elizabeth Cady Stanton proposed a resolution for women's "inalienable right to the elective franchise" at the Seneca Falls Convention. Her fellow companions were shocked. Her husband left the proceedings, and her father would call her a slut. It wasn't until 72 years later that women finally earned the right to vote, when all the original suffragists had died. In the 20th Century, Alice Paul and her cohorts were harassed, arrested, force-fed and otherwise abused. These women were called she-men and often faced adversity from other women who declared that they trusted their men to take care of them and wanted no part in politics. Finally, I appreciated that Baker did not white wash the history of these women, none of whom were perfect. The entire movement tended to favor white, middle-class women, and all the leaders had their issues with racism, elitism, and nativism.

This book also reminded me of a discussion I had with a couple of women who worked in the Courthouse with me. They were both adamantly opposed to women police officers patrolling in cars alone. They argued that women should always be partnered for their safety. Not surprisingly, I disagreed. Sure, women are sometimes smaller and less strong than men, but that isn't always the case. Also, Police work is risky for all police officers, and both men and women know what they're getting into when they join the force. Female police officers also have the benefits of training, a gun, and back-up, and they shouldn't be treated differently. But during the presidential elections it also made me wonder: if my co-workeres felt that women are so powerless they can't be in a cop car by themselves, how could they think a woman could be president? Can women ever be feminine and equal? Anyway, this book may have started a new kick for me--one into the history of women's rights and the feminist movement. I feel I have a lot to learn.

#59 - "The Know-It-All" by A.J. Jacobs

I had already read The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs and enjoyed it, so I was delighted to find The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World (2004) in the "Books on CD" section of my library. Now, I pretty much always pick up my books in their original format and read them the normal way. But one morning I woke up insane, and I impulsively decided to cut up an old bridesmaid dress of mine that didn't fit anymore and turn it into a fantastic dress of my own design. I am somewhat lacking in know-how, experience, and supplies in this little venture, and the chances of me ending up with anything wearable are hovering around the teens, but I can be surprisingly stubborn. Anyway, the whole process quickly turned into an incredibly tedious and time-consuming chore, and it's impossible to watch television or movies while I work, since I always have to be staring at the fabric; so I figured books on tape/cd could be the solution.

I have something of a fascination with religion, which is why I originally picked up The Year of Living Biblically and how I was introduced to A.J. Jacobs. Jacobs mentioned his earlier work, The Know-It-All, in The Year of Living Biblically, describing how he would obsessively read his Amazon.com reviews for his previous book--something which certainly broke one of his biblical rules. But in The Know-It-All, Jacobs hadn't moved on to religion yet, and his subject of this book is the Encyclopedia Britannica. Jacob's goal is to read the entire Encyclopedia Britannica: over 33,000 small-typed, but very large pages. The inspiration for this feat stems a bit from his obsessive compulsiveness; a competitiveness with his father--who once started reading the Encyclopedia Britannica; as well as a general competitiveness with anyone who might challenge his personal belief of his own supremacy in wisdom and knowledge.

I can relate to the idea of wanting to read the entire series, although that understanding doesn't go so far as me actually trying to accomplish it. Jacobs picks out some interesting anecdotes and stories from his reading and it made me wonder what other kind of fascinating historical stories and knowledge I was missing. My family had the World Book encylopedia series when I was young, so in order to get a better idea of Jacobs' accomplishment I wandered by the Encyclopedia Britannica in the library. From my quick inspection, it looked pretty dense, pretty dry, and with a lot of obscure and uninteresting (to me) information. Quite an accomplishment--even though Jacobs did admit that he started "skimming" when it got pretty long in the middle, which drives the anal side of my personality crazy. Why would you go to all that work to not really read the whole thing?

My opinion of this book changed often as it was read to me. Sometimes I was thoroughly entertained and learning new things, and other times I was thinking that the book was really long and wondering when we were going to get to the point. Some of Jacobs' intercessions of irrelevant and obscure facts that he had picked up on his reading started to drive me a little crazy, and I sympathized with his wife, who must be very patient. But there were other times when I was genuinely interested in Jacobs' new knowledge. And I was always interested when Jacobs talked about his own life: his relationship with his father; his relationship with his wife and their quest to have a baby; his experiences in a Mensa meeting; competing in the National Crossword tournament; and trying to get on Jeopardy and Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Jacobs is generally funny, likable, and honest when he talks about himself, and the way he trots out his embarassing stories was pretty entertaining.

On the whole, I think I still prefer The Year of Living Biblically, mainly because I had more interest in the underlying premise. I also wonder if The Know-It-All didn't suffer some from the reading on cd. Although the reader was good, I always felt like something was missing. I love having the physical book in my hand. Seeing the typeface and chapter breaks and other visual cues really does bring something to the book, and controlling the pace of the reading is nice too. I might have read over Jacobs' random intercessions a little more quickly, rendering them a little less annoying. And there is nothing more aggravating than when the disc starts skipping and I have to stand next to the cd player, fast-forwarding every couple of seconds (and losing a couple of words in the process). Fortunately this was only part of one cd, but it probably had an effect on my overall enjoyment. I still haven't give up on this book on cd thing entirely--that dress is way too far from being finished--but the next one I have is fiction, which might be a better listen.

#58 - "All the Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy

All the Pretty Horses (1992) is Cormac McCarthy's third book that I've read, having already been through The Road and Blood Meridian. I think McCarthy is an amazing author; the detailed and believable worlds he creates as well as his unique way of telling a story and poetic language always leave me floored. Quite often his narratives are so hard and dry that I'm surprised when I find myself getting emotional. And All the Pretty Horses was no different for me. Once again McCarthy has created a pretty unforgettable story.

All the Pretty Horses did not have the pervasive and insane violence of Blood Meridian, although by now I'm thinking it would be impossible for McCarthy to write a peaceful story; and there is certainly enough bloodshed and killing. John Grady Cole is a sixteen-year-old boy who lived in West Texas on a ranch with his grandfather until his grandfather dies. His parents are separated and his mother is going to sell the ranch. Threatened with the thought of losing his way of life, Cole and his best friend Rawlins take their horses and head down to Mexico. Rawlins and Cole have a very quiet and loyal friendship and partnership. They soon meet up with Jimmy Blevins who is constantly getting into trouble, but the pair ends up getting a job at a large Hacienda where Cole falls in love with the owner's daughter.

I thought this book was a lot easier to read than Blood Meridian. Not only was the story much easier to follow, but John Grady Cole was a very likable protagonist. His loyalty and basic decency--no matter the circumstances--as well as his affinity and competence with horses and the ranching way of life made him something of an epic hero. But liking him just made watching him go through his journey that much more painful, and the relationships Cole forges throughout the story are unforgettable. I'm definitely going to have to read the rest of McCarthy's books.

#57 - "New Moon" by Stephenie Meyer

Now that I've read New Moon (2006), I'm halfway through Stephenie Meyer's teenage vampire romance series, and I have to say I found it a quick and entertaining read. Not only did I like New Moon better than Twilight (this might be only because I accidentally read the entire plot of Twilight on Wikipedia before I even picked up the book, which lessened the suspense some), but at least right now--being two books in on each series--I like the Twilight series better than Charlaine Harris's vampire series.

I don't have too much to say about New Moon. I realize that it's a pretty superficial work, riding along on it's tween wish fulfillment and the question of how Bella Swan will come out in the end. And sure, it's a little long in places, and you just have to accept some iffy plot lines and character developments, but it doesn't annoy me enough to harbor any animosity towards the writer or the characters. As long as I don't go in expecting some great literature, I can be fully entertained in a guilty pleasure sort of way.

The main characters have managed a surprising lack of development in the five hundred pages of New Moon and they are in much the same position they were in at the end of Twilight. The story mainly revolves around Jacob's life and Bella and Jacob's closer friendship; probably because there wouldn't be much to write about if Edward were around the entire book. Sure the noose is tightening around the characters--forcing Bella towards the choice of becoming a vampire, but she's far from becoming undead any time soon. I'm pretty much reading these books to find out what happens in the end, so I'll be disappointed if Meyer somehow avoids these confrontations that she's been forecasting.

#56 - "The Beautiful Struggle" by Ta-Nehisi Coates

I read The Beautiful Struggle: A Father, Two Sons, and an Unlikely Road To Manhood (2008) by Ta-Nehisi Coates on the recommendation of a friend. She had heard Coates speak on NPR about his experiences at the DNC in Denver and thought he was interesting enough to pick up his book and then recommend it to me.

Ta-Nehisi Coates grew up in West Baltimore, surrounded by a tough, violent neighborhood and a dictatorial father determined to shape Ta-Nehisi into a man, which meant attaining the Consciousness of black heritage and making it out of Baltimore and into the Mecca of Howard University. Coates spends most of his childhood feeling alienated and alone. As a dreamy, naturally pacifist kid, he has a hard time picking up on the violent swagger and rules that mean survival in his neighborhood. His father, a former black panther, rejected normal American pastimes such as Halloween, the Fourth of July, candy, and red meat, increasing the alienation that Coates felt growing up.

Coates is only four years older than me, but we probably couldn't have grown up in more disparate worlds. Me in Boulder, Colorado land of happy, peaceful, tolerant, well-off, health-obsessed white people and Ta-Nehisi Coates in the black, violent, crack-infested, single-parent ghetto of West Baltimore. Going into this book, the only things I knew about Baltimore have come from watching the first season of The Wire. But even though there were constant cultural references that I didn't catch, I found myself relating deeply to Coates and his story.

Coates describes his experiences in Baltimore with such sympathy and thoughtful knowledge that he made me understand why there was so much violence and how impossible it was to avoid. At the same time Coates relates the almost universal experiences of an awkward adolescent, feeling alienated, alone, not worthy, and trying to relate to your parents. Coates's prose is poetic and beautiful to read, adding meaning and breadth to his story. I went in to this book, thinking I would learn something about growing up in America in a completely different culture and world, which I did; but I came out of it feeling that I had found--on some level--a kindred spirit.

#55 - "Everyday Survival" by Laurence Gonzales

Everyday Survival: Why Smart People Do Stupid Things (2008) by Laurence Gonzales was one of those books that was popping up everywhere I went. As a "featured title" at the library, I was constantly spying it as I walked in and out on my daily trek for a reliable internet connection. And then when I went to The Tattered Cover bookstore, and I saw it there too. In the end, I think it was the positive blurbs written about Deep Survival, Gonzales's other book, but trickily printed on the back of Everyday Survival that made me pick it up. It's too bad because Deep Survival might have been a better and more enjoyable book for me to read.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I started Everyday Survival, but I quickly became excited by Gonzales's premise. Gonzales appeared to be looking at the way humans think about the world and arguing that we need broad interests and an appetite for learning and expanding our minds. And I was completely on board. I love learning, and I find it kind of disturbing (especially now that my computer has been made useless by an evil virus) that I am wholly dependent on so many things, and I have no idea how any of them work. I understand that specialization is efficient, but when it comes to my ability to do basic, practical things, I can be pretty helpless. And Gonzales added to this with interesting, anecdotal tales including one about some people's reaction to the recent, devastating Tsunami where people in their "vacation state" of mind did not even think to be concerned by the rising water until it started carrying them away. Sometimes I felt like he was stretching these anecdotes a bit to prove his point, but it was all certainly interesting.

But then Gonzales started talking about the origins of mankind, the meaning of life, the second rule of thermodynamics, entropy, his travels, and global warming. It felt unfocused and scattered and I lost some interest. I think Gonzales was trying to give people a better understanding of our world and our place in it by giving us background on the origins of the world, mankind, how we think, and the role we play in it. And once he made us understand how insignificant we are and our place in the universe, we could think differently about our role in global warming and whether we really can rise above our petty concerns and evolutionary tendencies and do something to make a difference.

It's a grand, ambitious scheme that I like in theory, but it didn't work for me. Maybe part of the problem is I was expecting something different. I mean, the subtitle is: Why Smart People Do Stupid Things. So, a dire treatise on global warming or a scientific education on the meaning of life was a little surprising. But also, I didn't find him convincing. Many of his stories and explanations did not prove his point and I was constantly wondering where he was going or what he was trying to show. All in all, I came away disappointed.

#54 - "The Pinochet File" by Peter Kornbluh

As far as I can remember, my history classes always seemed to miss anything that occurred south of the United States. I probably should have taken U.S. Foreign Policy in college, and then I would have had a better idea of how the United States and its misguided policies and leaders have screwed around with so many different countries, but I missed out somehow. Anyway, The Pinochet File: A Declassified Dossier on Atrocity and Accountability (2003) by Peter Kornbluh was an effort on my part to remedy some of my ignorance. I had, of course, heard of Pinochet and the tortured and disappeared, but I didn't really know any specifics. My first foray into South American history was reading a massive biography of Che Guevara after watching The Motorcycle Diaries. The book was incredibly informative but only made a small dent in the huge chasm of things I did not know about South America.

The Pinochet File focuses on the United States' role in Chile and Pinochet's dictatorship, from 1970 when the left-wing President Allende was elected President, to September 11, 1973 when Pinochet gained power through a military coup, to the new millenium where some families are still fighting for some kind of accounting and accountability--both from the United States as well as Chile. A lot of the information in the book stems from over 24,000 never-before-seen U.S. government documents that President Clinton had released to the public in 2000, showing more clearly than ever before how much the United States knew and was involved with the Pinochet regime. Kornbluh ends each chapter with selected copies of the recently released documents, so after gaining some perspective and basis of what occurred, you can see and read the pretty damning evidence for yourself.

The United States' role in the government of Chile throughout the years is shameful, but the most maddening and fascinating parts for me to read about were Nixon's and Kissinger's attitudes. The myopic, amoral arrogance of their attitudes was astounding. They didn't see anything wrong with undermining a democratically elected government; with giving machine guns to radical groups so generals who support the Chilean Constitution can be killed to make a coup successful; for human beings--even American citizens--being tortured and disappeared in the thousands. Kissinger later defnded himself in 2001 on Crossfire by saying, "Human rights were not an international issue at the time, the way they have become since." Seriously, Kissinger? You couldn't figure out for yourself that it was wrong? (Granted, the entire Bush administration has a problem with this, too, but I think you're smarter than him.) And even if you couldn't figure out for yourself that torturing is bad, maybe you should have looked to the Geneva Convention or the United States Constitution as guidelines for proper behavior. And if you were really acting in the right, why keep everything such a secret from the public? Hypocrisy and dishonesty make me more angry than probably anything else and this book shows both in abundance coming from both the United States' and Pinochet's Government.

This book also made me wonder why we bother with the CIA at all. Most of the papers I saw that had been previously kept from the public and were only declassified in 2000 didn't harbor some secret necessary for the security of the United States, but was merely embarassing and damning of the CIA. I know I'm something of an idealist, but this is a democracy, if we can't do something openly and with knowledge and approval of the public, then maybe we shouldn't be doing it. The CIA was fucking around with a democratically elected government and then lying to Congress about it. And even in 2000, the director of the CIA was mucking around with not releasing the papers. I think they have proven themselves unreliable and undemocratic and unnecessary. To hell with them.

#53 - "Living Dead In Dallas" by Charlaine Harris

Living Dead In Dallas (2002) by Charlaine Harris is the second novel in the Sookie Stackhouse vampire series. I think there might be six or seven total? So far? Anyway, I thought Dead Until Dark was kind of fun and once I start anything, I like to finish it--unless it's absolutely horrible, so I grabbed the second novel.

Sookie Stackhouse, the young, uneducated, mind-reading, southern waitress is still in a relationship with her vampire boyfriend Bill Compton. And pretty much every man and vampire who comes into contact with her is still lusting after her. The regional leader vampire, Eric, sends Sookie and Bill down to Dallas where Sookie uses her mind-reading abilities to help find a missing vampire in the area.

This book was much like the first in the series, a fun and quick read. Sookie is a generally spunky and likable character and the plot moved along quickly enough. I guess I still have some reservations about these books, though. There is so much sexual violence throughout the book and it only seems to serve the purpose of titillation. I'm kind of curious what will happen to Sookie Stackhouse in the long run, but I can't help but feel kind of dirty after reading these novels. And not because I mind reading about sex in novels--if there's a point to it; but I feel like the vampires are just an excuse for different sexual fantasies and then there's some more violent sex thrown in for good measure, and that's the whole basis for the book. I'm always rather averse to authors throwing in some rape to show how protective a man is towards his woman. And I don't know anything about the author, but I get the feeling she's basing Sookie Stackhouse on the kind of woman she would like to be, which I also find kind of disturbing. Oh well, I'll probably eventually read the rest of the series and then I might have a better idea of what's bothering me.

#52 - "Dune" by Frank Herbert

One of my goals for this whole reading challenge was to break out and read some books and genres that I would generally ignore or avoid. My local library has separate sections for: fantasy, mystery, romance, horror, and science-fiction; thus it wasn't too easy for me to disregard the glaring hole in my reading list that was the science-fiction genre. When I couldn't ignore it anymore I took an exploratory stroll through the science-fiction section, looking for a book I could read. But I was wary of choosing one at random, knowing that my generally low tolerance for science-fiction required one that was well-written. So I hit the internet and looked up some "best science-fiction" lists. And Dune or the Dune Trilogy was at the top of almost every list. That's all I needed to know.

Dune (1965) by Frank Herbert is apparently the classic of science-fiction literature. Herbert created an epic story about struggle, survival, power, history, and religion that has spawned movies, television shows, and innumerable sequels (some by his son and a co-writer). The story begins with the young man, Paul Atreides, who goes to the planet Arrakis (also called Dune) with his father, the Duke Leto, and his mother, Lady Jessica, when the Duke is ordered to take over rule on that planet. The move is the center of a plot between the Imperium and the Atreides' sworn enemy, the Harkonnens, to destroy the Atreides family. Complicating life on Arrakis is the extreme desert atmosphere where water is rare and precious and survival almost impossible, even without the added dangers of impossibly large sandworms, extreme storms, and the fierce, nomadic Fremen. But the mysterious and powerful spice melange, that is harvested only on the sands of Arrakis, and is a cash crop like no other, keeps the rest of the universe's interest in the barren planet high.

There were a lot of really good things about this book. Herbert manages to create an entire, complex world complete with history, religion, and competing factions. Although the book is over 500 pages, the action movies quickly and unexpectedly, which kept me engaged throughout. The combination of struggle for survival and and struggle for power as you slowly learn more about Arrakis and the surrounding world made for a pretty intense read. With the competing houses and instability in the universe, Paul Atreides grows up surrounded by an astounding amount of violence, which believably shapes his personality; and the many secondary characters that help Paul in his journey are interesting in themselves and help fill out the book.

However, there were a couple aspects of the novel that had me a bit frustrated by the end. First, I got a little tired of all the religion and mysticism. I would rather that Paul earn his right to lead his men or slowly gain his powers in a more relatable way. And even though the idea of knowing the many different lines of what your future might be was an interesting idea, whenever anyone fell into a trance or started taking a drug, or performed some kind of mystical miracle, I lost interest in both the book and the characters. Second, I was simply annoyed with Paul Atreides by the end of the book. Herbert always described Paul when he was acting arrogant and power hungry without ever giving him much feeling or emotion. I felt like Herbert went out of his way to make Paul as inhuman and unrelatable as possible. Now, I don't know what happens in the subsequent novels, but by the end of this book, I was disliking Paul because he was mean, almost cruel, and choosing power over people.

Sidenote: I have some kind of theory bubbling in my head about the role of women in these science-fiction novels. In some ways the Bene Gesserit are the most powerful women in the novel, but at the same time they are sold as mistresses to men throughout the world. Firefly has a similar culture of high-powered prostitutes, which is--I think--inherently contradictory in the real world. Is this some kind of male (or female) fantasy that is being tapped here? Or some kind of reflection of the idea that men will always need sex and women will exploit that need for power? Or something even darker?

#51 - "Lincoln" by Richard Carwardine

I'm apparently still on that history kick inspired by Assassination Vacation. And even though these books are kind of dense and sometimes a bit of a slog, I'm learning a ton and finally getting a grasp of some of those important details of our history that I should have learned back in high school. So, Lincoln: A Life of Purpose and Power (2003) by the Brit, Richard Carwardine, is my latest foray into American History and, although it skips six or seven decades, I felt like it picked up right where Founding Brothers left off: the issue of slavery.

Carwardine follows Abraham Lincoln through his early political career, the Civil War, and his death. The overwhelming issue of the times was slavery: first the bitter fight over the expansion of slavery into new western territories and then the secession of the southern states after the "anti-slavery" Lincoln was elected President. Founding Brothers had discussed a Congress in the 1790's that couldn't even bring up the issue of slavery without the South Carolinians and Georgians defensively shrieking about secession. Now in the 1840's through the 1860's Carwardine paints a portrait of the South getting more defensive and more desperate to keep their way of life in the face of growing antagonism. Although Abraham Lincoln disliked the idea of slavery, when he was elected president, he was perfectly content and conservative enough to respect the Southerners' "property rights." Where he stood firm, however, was in not allowing any expansion of slavery; eventually he expected it to simply die off on its own as an outmoded and negative aspect of the country's history. Lincoln's thinking changed as the war progressesd. His main focus was always first and foremost to save the Union. The Emancipation Proclamation was a pragmatic tool to help him win the war, but when freed slaves started fighting for the Union, they gained more importance in his mind as an essential part of the country.

I couldn't help but wonder what side I would be on in this war. Obviously, I would be against slavery. But I'm also a bit of a pacifist, and at the beginning of the war it was far from clear that the result would be the end of slavery. My first instinct when the South started seceding (with plenty of hindsight and modern morals) was to say, "Fine, go. The less we have to do with you the better. Sure, you're ignoring the will of the majority and breaking up the Union, but it's not worth the bloodshed." And at the beginning of the war it was far from clear that the result would be the end of slavery. But then, would that have really avoided bloodshed? I imagine that the North and South would still have fought over the expansion of their respective countries into the western territories. And even though I first assumed that if the South were left to itself, slavery would still die out relatively quickly because it goes against so many basic norms of human decency, but Apartheid lasted much longer than you would think possible in this day and age. Perhaps slavery was such a violent and entrenched way of life in the South that it required violence to be rid of it. I don't know.

Carwardine delves into an impressive amount of detail when describing Lincoln's political life, and I was impressed by the full picture I received of Lincoln's attitudes and strategies throughout his life. There is not much information about the Civil War or specific battles, however, beyond how a recent loss or win was affecting public opinion and thus Lincoln. There is also almost no information about Lincoln's personal life, which is something I missed but might be better in a different book. Beyond a short description of his poor, early life that later gave him the name of "rail-splitter," there is almost nothing about his early life, his marriage, or his kids. In once sentence, Carwardine mentions an ill-advised duel that embarassed Lincoln and may have hurt his early political career. What!?!? Another duel!?!?! I thought politicians had stopped dueling after Burr and Hamilton?!? But Carwardine never satisfied my impatient curiosity and I had to resort to google to get what is--I assume to be--the real story. I appreciate Carwardine's focus and understanding of the political past, but a little gossip thrown in now and again might have been fun.