My Life As Seen Through Books

#5 (2012-cbriv) "Doc" by Mary Doria Russell

2012-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

The only reason I picked up Doc (2011) was that it looked new and it was by Mary Doria Russell. I became a fan of hers after I read, and was completely engrossed by, The Sparrow (1996). Although I'm interested in any kind of history if it's well written, I don't have a particular fascination with the Wild West and its violence, shootouts, and gambling. My previous knowledge of the life of Doc Holliday came entirely from Val Kilmer's depiction of the character in Tombstone. However, just as Russell surprised me with her captivating science-fiction tale, I was surprised again once I started reading Doc.

Doc is a fictional story of John Henry Holliday. Russell begins the story with his birth and childhood. She follows him out of his native Georgia to Texas and eventually to Dodge, Kansas, where Doc meets up with the Earp boys and where most of the story takes place. I was concerned that a fictional account of such a well-known story might be distracting, that I would spend the entire novel wondering which parts were factual and which parts Russell had made up. However, Russell focuses on the more unknown parts of Holliday's life (at least unknown to me), the things that forged him as a person and inevitably led to "the stand-off at the O.K. corral." By the time Russell got to parts of Holliday's life that were even vaguely familiar, I was so invested in her telling that I didn't care how much liberty she was taking with the story.

Russell has a way of giving just enough background on all of her characters that I really felt like I understood where they were coming from and why they were acting in a certain way. And knowing and really understanding so many of the different characters that made up the city of Dodge made for a very realistic and rich backdrop as the setting for the novel. The lonely, the fortune seekers, the power hungry, and the dispossessed all came together to build a city from the ground up at the edge of civilization. And, my god, the women did not have an easy time of it out there.

When I saw Doc on bookshelves I was initially surprised that Russell would follow a science-fiction novel with a historical western, but the two books had some remarkable similarities. The sense of community and family that Doc was able to build with the Earp brothers reminded me of the sense of community among the small group heading to a far off planet in The Sparrow. Both groups were pioneers and both groups depended on each other for friendship, love, safety, and survival.

SPOILER??? - When I picked up the book I had assumed that the focus would be on the famous showdown at the O.K. corral in Tombstone, Arizona. So, I was a little confused when I was 4/5 of the way done with the book and everyone was still in Dodge. I think it made the ending feel a little unfocused because I couldn't tell where it was going. Now that I'm done, I think it's admirable that Russell thoroughly explained the humor and dark tragedy of Doc Holliday's life without even getting to the most famous part. I knew the characters so well by that point, I didn't even need Russell to describe what occurred that day.

#4 (2012-cbriv) "War" by Sebastian Junger

2012-02-09T09:31:00.000-08:00

“In a very crude sense the job of young men is to undertake the work that their fathers are too old for, and the current generation of American fathers has decided that a certain six-mile-long valley in Kunar Province needs to be brought under military control. Nearly fifty American soldiers have died carrying out those orders.”

I can’t remember how or why I ended up with War (2010) by Sebastian Junger on my Kindle. I just recently watched Restrepo, a fascinating movie, which might have been what made me aware of the book, but I couldn’t say for sure. I know I was worried that the book was just going to be a written account of the movie, but it ended up being much more expansive and personal.

War is the result of five trips that Sebastian Junger took to Afghanistan with a photojournalist named Tim Hetherington. The two were embedded with troops in the Korengal Valley in Eastern Afghanistan. This valley is only about six miles long and a couple miles wide but was seeing more fighting than anywhere else in either Iraq or Afghanistan. In addition, the terrain was incredibly difficult to navigate and the accommodations were sparse and rough at best. Junger tells the story of the men from Second Platoon, Battle Company who lived, fought, and died in the Korengal Valley with him.

I am something of a pacifist although I don’t always know if it’s feasible in the real world to avoid war and fighting altogether. There are a lot of shitty people out there and sometimes violence is required to protect yourself, but I am very frustrated by war. It always seems like a pissing contest between powerful people wanting more power who have no care for the manifold tragedies they unleash. If the people most affected by war: the ones who fight it, the ones who have to live through it, could decide whether we go to war, I think there’d be a lot less of it. However, I feel the least I can do for the thousands of American soldiers around the world, fighting and trying to survive, while I live on in complete comfort, is to try to have some understanding and appreciation of what they’re going through.

Sebastian Junger’s book gave me a searing glimpse into what combat was like for the young men he was embedded with. Not only did I see day-to-day living on the bases, but Junger also described some combat operations, attempts to get the locals on the American side, and many, many fire fights. In addition, I learned about the men who lived there, their struggles, and how living in a place for fourteen months when your life is constantly in danger can mess with your head. The book was fast paced and easy to read, with excitement and tragedy around every corner.

The only small issues I had were that it was difficult to keep track of the names of the soldiers and platoons. Junger seemed to jump around from one person to the next, quickly and unexpectedly. There were only a couple soldiers that I knew by name and had an idea of who they were. The story was still completely fascinating, but my confusion made it a little less personal. Junger also stated later in the book, “I must point out that without the friendship and acceptance of the men of Second Platoon this would have been a very different book and possibly not worth writing.” Not surprisingly, Junger became very attached to the men he lived with and who constantly kept him alive. Every once in awhile I got the sense that Junger had adopted some of the attitudes of the men, and that he had become less than a neutral observer. However, I also thought this book was captivating and eye-opening, and I would definitely recommend it.

And here are some quotes that I don’t want to forget but don’t fit into my review:

-“Collective defense can be so compelling—so addictive, in fact—that eventually it becomes the rationale for why the group exists in the first place.”

-“On and on it went, lives measured in inches and seconds and deaths avoided by complete accident.”

-“Good soldiers died just as easily as sloppy ones, which is pretty much how soldiers define unfair tactics in war.”

-“Once you thought about them on those terms it was hard not to wonder whether the men themselves—not the American and Taliban commanders but the actual guys behind the guns—couldn’t somehow sit down together and work this out.”

-“Not because I’m scared but because I’m used to war being exciting and suddenly it’s not. Suddenly it seems weak and sad, a collective moral failure that has tricked me—tricked us all—into falling for the sheer drama of it. Young men in their terrible new roles with their terrible new machinery arrayed against equally strong young men on the other side of the valley, all dedicated to a kind of canceling out of each other until replacements arrive. Then it starts all over again. There’s so much human energy involved—so much courage, so much honor, so much blood—you could easily go a year here without questioning whether any of this needs to be happening in the first place.

#3 (2012-cbriv) "The Introvert Advantage: How to Thrive in an Extrovert World" by Marti Olsen Laney

2012-02-02T15:23:00.000-08:00

I can’t remember when I first learned about introverts and extroverts, but there was never any doubt that I was an introvert. All I needed to know was that introverts liked/needed time to themselves. I genuinely like people, but I have always required quality solitary time. Anyway, some random posting on facebook about the qualities of introverts made me start to wonder a bit more about my innate personality. I couldn’t find the original book mentioned on Facebook at the library, but I picked up The Introvert Advantage: How to Thrive in an Extrovert World (2002) by Marti Olsen Laney in an effort to learn more about myself.

The Introvert Advantage contained some interesting bits of knowledge, and it has given me a different perspective of myself and parts of my life. However, I was looking for a book explaining why I think and act the way I do. The Introvert Advantage often focused on trying to convince the reader that being an introvert is not that bad, as well as self-help tips for how to live as an introvert. First, when Laney lists some of the qualities of introverts, it just made me think, “Crap, being an introvert is worse than I thought.” Introverts need more sleep and rest, don’t like being active, can be sensitive to the sun, walk and talk slowly, need more recovery time, and can be sensitive to heat and cold. For someone who wants to be a firefighter, these wussy qualities are not helpful. Second, some of the self-help tips were corny or obvious. I’m sure she didn’t mean it like this, but it was almost insulting to be told to try talking to people.

One rather haunting chapter for me was her description of relationships. Since I am still very much in the process of getting over a recent breakup, reading her section on introvert females dating extrovert males kind of brought it all back. I know we had bigger issues than just our personalities conflicting. But reading through the section did make me wonder if things could have gone differently if we had understood eachother better.

Every once in awhile Laney would blurt out some fascinating little tidbit that I had no idea was related to being an introvert. For instance, when learning, left-brained introverts value the written word or the word of an authoritative source. They may need data that supports what someone says in order to trust their information. Also, introverts are often more comfortable sitting in a group than standing. Both of these are very true for me, but I thought they were just weird preferences I had. It was these little nuggets that really interested me. But the author never explained why. Although there was a rather unclear description of how introvert and extrovert brains work differently, the fact that introverts have a longer pathway in their brains to process information does not explain all of the personality traits associated with introverts. Why are introverts more comfortable sitting than standing? Why do we feel more exposed? Why are we more self-conscious? Is it just because we are more aware? I would have been much more interested in the book if it delved deeply into these questions and stayed away from the self-help business.

#2 (2012-cbriv) "Elizabeth Costello" by J.M. Coetzee

2012-02-02T15:18:00.000-08:00

“In his new work of fiction, J.M. Coetzee has crafted an unusual and deeply affecting tale told through an ingenious series of formal addresses. Vividly imagined and masterfully wrought, Elizabeth Costello [2003] is, on the surface, the story of a woman’s life as mother, sister, lover, and writer. Yet it is also a profound and haunting meditation on the nature of storytelling that only a writer of Coetzee’s caliber could accomplish.”

I had never read anything by Coetzee before, although he appears to be very well regarded. He has won the CNA Prize (South Africa’s premier literary award) three times; the Booker prize twice, and a bunch of others. In addition, Elizabeth Costello won the Nobel Prize for fiction back in 2003. And if all this acclaim weren’t enough, my father gave me the book, exhorting its virtues and telling me I had to read it.

I am somewhat disappointed in myself for not appreciating or seeing the genius of this novel, but I am forced to admit that I just didn’t get it. Although I am aware that some parts were well written, I was not moved. The beginning I found slow but with some interesting details and arguments. However, instead of gaining steam, learning more about the characters and feeling more involved with the story, as I was expecting to happen, by the end I had lost any interest I had in the character, and was frustrated at the unending discussions. However, I did sleep better the week I was reading this book than I had in a long time. I would pick up the book right before bed and after a couple of pages barely be able to keep my eyes open.

Elizabeth Costello is an Australian writer. She has written a number of critically acclamed novels in her past but is now facing old age. The story is written through a series of public talks that either she, or someone she knows well, gives. The themes vary pretty drastically from: the ethics of eating meat (one I found more interesting); to the nature of the novel; to something about the study of humanities versus religion (this is when I really started losing interest); to the essence of being a writer and death (this is when I really got tired of Elizabeth Costello as a character). Along with these philosophical discussions are glimpses into Costello’s relationships with her son, daughter-in-law, sister, and former lover.

I am a very concrete thinker. I don’t mind discussing philosophical ideas, but to keep me interested they need to be based in something that affects people. That’s why I appreciated Elizabeth Costello’s interactions with her friends and family. Coetzee quietly and subtly brings up the complicated feelings and tensions that come with relationships. However, I immediately got frustrated when the subject became too ethereal. I don’t care how Elizabeth Costello’s sister defines the study of humanities and how that somehow makes her religious ways better. And I am bitter that I was forced to read pages and pages of these discussions that held no meaning for me, just to get a small glimpse into the characters’ lives. Considering the myriad prizes this author and this book have won, I may be in the minority with my reaction to this book, but it was not for me.

#1 (2012-cbriv) "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" by Stieg Larsson

2012-01-05T13:49:00.000-08:00

The second novel in this series left off [SPOILERS THROUGHOUT] with the main character finally in the custody of the police and her life hanging in the balance. I assumed the author wouldn't kill off his main character--at least before the end of the book, but I was concerned and interested in what would happen to Lisbeth Salander. So I got a hold of and read The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (2009) by Stieg Larsson much faster than I normally get to sequels.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest is the last (apparently, unless they gather Larsson's notes together and create another) book in the Millenium series. The series features Lisbeth Salander, an anti-social computer genius who has been badly treated by most of the people in her life. I'm going to skip plot details since most people already know them, and at this point clarity would only really come with a synopsis of all three books. And I'm too lazy. Instead I will focus on why I ended up liking this series, despite my first impression.

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was my least favorite book of this series. I think I've mentioned in other reviews that I almost didn't even bother with the second novel. I'm not sure if I had heard that Larsson was a feminist, but his feminism did not come across to me while I was reading that first book. Instead, it felt like it was written by someone who was glorifying violence against women. And allowing Lisbeth to "get back" at her guardian did not make it better and excuse all of the sexual violence--both the violence directed at Lisbeth as well as that directed against all of the women brutally murdered by the serial killer. I also wasn't thrilled with the serial killer murder mystery. There are a ton of mystery books featuring scary serial killers. Thus, I figured the only reason it had become so well known and popular was that people were intrigued by all the violence.

However, the second and third books I enjoyed much more. The story focused almost exclusively on Lisbeth's past and present. The books answered some lingering questions from the first book, better explained some of the violence in the first novel, and made Lisbeth a more compelling character. The second and third novels also expanded the scope of the series from a routine murder/mystery to one that explored issues of misogyny, violence against women, the power of the state, the role of the media, and the criminal justice system.

They were also fast and fun to read. I have heard complaints about Larsson going into too much detail, and I can see where that's coming from. However, I rarely got bored and the extensive background information gave the story more depth and meaning. It was also enjoyable to see Lisbeth actually rely on and work with other people. She was still similar to a superhero in her ability to gain the upper hand, both physically and mentally, against her opponents; but working together to take down a secret, corrupt government agency made for a fun read.

2011 (cbriii) #18 "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein

2011-12-30T14:30:00.000-08:00

The Art of Racing in the Rain (2008) by Garth Stein was, I think, the 2011 choice for the "One Book One Denver" program that started back in 2004. I like the idea of encouraging reading and I've read all the books they've chosen for this program, including: The Thin Man, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and Caramelo as well as some others. It usually leads me to reading books that I would not have otherwise found, and I appreciate the change. I found The Art of Racing in the Rain to be a sweet, quiet story that was hard to put down.

The beginning of the novel begins with Enzo, near death, and telling the story of his life, and through him, the lives of his owners. Enzo is chosen by his new owner, car mechanic Denny Swift, when he is just a puppy. Enzo and Denny's life changes when Denny falls in love with and marries Eve, and they start a family. The family goes through a number of especially tough times and betrayals--all told through Enzo.

I read some reviews, and I think it's a fair critique, that Enzo is often not a recognizable dog. Stein just called him a dog and then voiced all of his own personal likes, dislikes, and world views through him. I wondered why we were supposed to give more weight to Enzo's opinion when he didn't seem much different from any human. Almost all of his knowledge is gained from watching television. Thus, even though there are some meaningful snippets, as far as a book that will show you the meaning of life, I don't think this is the one.

"Learn to listen! I beg of you. Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories."

"To live every day as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I would like to live. To feel the joy of life as Eve felt the joy of life. To separate oneself from the burden, the angst, the anguish that we all encounter every day. To say I am alive, I am wonderful, I am. I am. That is something to aspire to. When I am a person, that is how I will live my life."

However, in the simple telling of a family drama, this book worked for me. I got sucked into Enzo's life and started caring about the characters. There are moments in the book where everything just clicks. Enzo's ongoing struggle to communicate with his owners is surprisingly relatable and Denny's loneliness hurt my heart. I was sitting on the bus crying when I read about Enzo's death. I know this has a lot to do with dredging up the pain of my own dog dying, but I thought it was well done. This novel is more than just a cute story about a dog; it digs a little deeper and makes you feel a little more. However, it does require some suspension of critical thinking and abandoning yourself to the story.

2011 (cbriii) #17 "The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry" by Jon Ronson

2011-12-22T17:44:00.000-08:00

I first saw The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry (2011) when its author, Jon Ronson promoted it on "The Daily Show." The two Jon's discussed how his new book looks into the traits of psychopathy and how many corporate CEO's, etc. display these traits. I had just finished The Devil in the White City, which features a psychopath, and I was interested in learning more about how their minds worked. And the idea that there were people in power who were psychopaths--or perhaps people were able to obtain power because of their psychopathy sounded pretty fascinating.

But I found the entire book to be disappointing and frustrating. I am a big fan of Jon Krakauer because of his intensive research, intricate descriptions, and fair analysis of his subjects. The Psychopath Test was exactly the opposite. The book includes a series of loosely connected interviews with the author, somewhat related to mental health. There is not enough detail to get even a vague understanding of one subject before he abruptly switches to whatever other person he has decided to interview. Although each interview may have been interesting as an interview, there is not enough information to make a book. Why this book was even bought by the library and why it has positive reviews on Amazon is a complete mystery to me.

I was mistaken in thinking that the entire book was an in-depth look at psychopaths. However, even the part of the book that discusses psychopaths is incredibly unhelpful. Ronson jumps from some harmless guy in Norway who sent a cryptic book to a bunch of professors to a man in a mental hospital in Britain who is stuck there because his psychiatrists have determined that he's a psychopath. Needing more education on the subject, he visits an American psychologist who has come up with a "psychopath test." With this new information, Ronson interviews a business mogul who became famous for firing half of his workforce. The rest of the book moves on to how shows like Jerry Springer try to get crazy people on their show, but not too crazy. He looks at a crazy conspiracy theorist, and quickly discusses how more mental illnesses are being diagnosed and treated with drugs--especially bi-polar disorder in children.

I had two major problems with this book and Ronson's writing. The first is the lack of focus and analysis. Ronson almost touches on a number of very interesting questions and dilemmas regarding psychology, but he never gets into any of it. He never does enough research to have an enlightened discussion, and he never does any analysis. Psychologists can be a crazy bunch of people and they're often wrong. Should they really have the power of determining who is a psychopath and may be a danger to society? How do we know they're right? Are we letting a doctor who actually enjoyed shocking his prisoner patients make these decisions? What are the levels of psychopathy? What do they think causes it? Does it help people succeed in some instances? What is causing the increase of diagnosing children as bi-polar? What are the effects? What can be done about it? The entire book I was waiting for him to get into the meat of the issues, but instead he would just jump to his next subject.

The other frustration was that I felt manipulated by Ronson. He didn't have enough information to keep an entire book going, so instead of just telling us what he learned, he handed it out piece-meal in order to achieve some sort of effect. It's possible he was trying to take us on the same journey he took when he was interviewing people, but I just found it irritating. For instance, when Ronson goes to interview the business mogul, he tells us about the parts of the interview that may have made the business mogul appear to be more like a psychopath. It isn't until the next chapter that he mentions the parts that make him look more normal. If I can't trust the author to tell me the whole story, then I can't trust anything he's writing.

"We aren't all good people just trying to do good. Some of us are psychopaths. And psychopaths are to blame for this brutal misshapen society. They're the jagged rocks thrown into the still pond?" --Wait, does Ronson really believe this? Does he think he's found the cause of human suffering? Because it's a pretty sweeping statement with absolutely no support. And instead of looking into this question, he just moves on.

In describing psychopaths, Jon Ronson states they lack remorse. "It's the feeling we get when we're suddenly startled--like when a figure jumps out at us in the dark--or when we realize we've done something terrible, the feeling of fear and guilt and remorse." --The feeling of guilt for doing something wrong and the feeling I get when I'm startled and scared could not be more different. Perhaps psychopaths don't feel either, but I'm not sure why Ronson is equating the two.

The two paragraphs above are just a couple examples of what bothered me about this book. Perhaps some of my disappointment comes from my expectations of something different but I have not been more annoyed with a book I've read in a long time.

2011 (cbriii) #16 "The Devil in the White City" by Erik Larson

2011-12-13T11:34:00.000-08:00

“Suddenly New York and St. Louis wanted the fair. Washington laid claim to the honor on grounds it was the center of government, New York because it was the center of everything. No one cared what St. Louis thought, although the city got a wink for pluck.”

I like history books and I’d only heard good things about The Devil in the White City (2003) by Erik Larson. I’ve been looking forward to reading it for quite awhile. The combination of a giant fair with a serial killer stalking the grounds sounded fascinating. However, although I enjoyed this book on the whole, it was not quite what I expected, and I found myself often wishing for something else.

Erik Larson intertwines the story of the creation and building of Chicago’s World’s Fair in 1893 with the story of H. H. Holmes, a psychopath and remorseless serial killer who lived and operated a hotel near the World’s Fair at the same time. Although non-fiction, the book is written like a story in narrative format, with the chapters switching back and forth between Holmes and the World’s Fair.

Larson clearly gets across the point that this fair was a huge deal—with the reputation of Chicago and the even the country at stake as the city and its inhabitants sruggled to rival Paris and the Eiffel Tower of the last world’s fair. It was a great confluence of important people and great ideas that inspired and influenced cities, architecture, and ideas for years to come. The scope of the fair, the short time to completion, and the challenge of pulling off such an ambitious project was truly amazing to read about. The book is scattered throughout with recognizable names that were all involved or visited the World’s Fair in Chicago.

On the other side, I also learned about H.H. Holmes, including some detail about his childhool and how he came to be in Chicago in the 1890’s. Perhaps what was most fascinating about Holmes’ story was his ability to get away with almost anything. People were disappearing left and right, most of them with a connection to Holmes or his hotel, but the Chicago police were not even aware of him. With more police power and effective investigations, better communication, and even building inspections, Holmes would not have been able to get away with his crimes today.

It just occurred to me while I was writing this review that the one theme that emanates throughout the book is the quest of men for power and how this quest significantly changes people’s lives. However, in the end this power and its effects are transient. The men who built the fair wanted the glory of creating something magnificent; they wanted to outdo everything that had been done in the past. Although they succeeded, the fair ends up in ruins, they are constantly battling health issues, and they all eventually die (some even on the Titanic, yet another quest for power). Holmes is motivated by his own personal quest of power over the lives of the people he kills. Although he is incredibly successful at what he does, it catches up to him at the end. It’s an interesting way to look at this book and makes me appreciate it a little more.

Perhaps my issues with the book stem from the fact that power is generally a turn-off for me. I find men who strut around and declare themselves important rather annoying. Although seeing into the inner workings of the fair’s creation was remarkable, I don’t need to know what they ate at their fancy dinners. Sometimes I felt there was so much detail about so many different people that I didn’t care about any of them. I often dreaded the chapters about the fair because I knew there would be smart, well-educated, artistic, and stubborn men arguing about what they wanted buildings to look like. I understand that Larsen was limited to the information that was available to him, and important men like to write everything about their lives in letters. This gave Larsen a wealth of information on the important men, but not much on anything else.

I also had a hard time picturing the grounds and buildings of the fair that Larsen described. The design and image of the buildings were so important that an entire chapter of photos would have been nice to allow me to understand the scope and beauty of the fair. I finally googled some images, which helped.

Unfortunately, many of the story lines that really caught my interest were just one sentence with not nearly enough detail to satisfy me. Workers were killed throughout construction of the fair and there were labor issues and threats of strike. In addition, the one woman allowed to take part in the design of the fair (only of the Woman’s Building, of course), Sophia Hayden, was hounded and harassed in her design by Chicago’s leading women, who wanted to decorate her building with various knick-knacks. Without the power to fight back, Sophia “walked into Burnham’s office, began to tell him her story, and promptly, literally went mad: tears, heaving sobs, cries of anguish, all of it.” Hayden was driven from the park and “placed in a sanitarium for a period of enforced rest” where she fell into depression. I wish Larsen had gone into more critical detail of Hayden’s story rather than simply accepting that because a woman cried, she must be mad. Olmsted (the ground’s designer) suffered from real depression and he was not thrown into a sanitarium. But Burnham couldn’t handle tears and crying from a woman who was understandably frustrated, and she is quietly put away.

I also found the narrative style of storytelling sometimes frustrating and distracting. Throughout the book, I’d wonder what facts Larsen was using to write that part of the story, especially when he described Holmes killing one of his victims. At first I thought the woman must have survived, but then I realized that Larsen was just guessing. However, I would much prefer that Larsen just tell me what kind of evidence he found and his interpretation of that evidence. That way I can decide for myself if I agree with him or not. For that reason, I found some of his footnotes more interesting than the book because I finally found out what he had learned in his research.

On the whole a good read, and I’d recommend it to those interested in history. However, after all the build up, I was expecting a little something more.

2011 (cbriii) #15 "The Girl Who Played With Fire" by Stieg Larsson

2011-12-13T11:29:00.000-08:00

I wasn’t sure I even wanted to read the next two books in Stieg Larsson’s Millenium series. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was a page turner for me, but I thought the plot was too heavy on the disturbing sexual violence. Larsson had written a relatively interesting mystery, but I wondered if the only reason it had received so much attention was the plethora of sexual violence. The book seemed to revel in it, and the fact that Lisbeth Salander was able to successfully fight back did not make it okay.

But The Girl Who Played With Fire (2009) was available on Kindle from my library when nothing else was, so I figured it was better than nothing. And I was pleasantly surprised. We learn much more about Lisbeth Salander in this book, and I found her character really fascinating. She is independent, lonely, brilliant, tiny, fierce, loyal, unethical, and powerful all at once. I felt incredibly sorry for her and admired her all at the same time.

This second story also involves Mikhail Blomkvist and yet another mystery. Lisbeth’s gaurdian as well as Blomkvist’s co-workers are murdered and there is a race to find the killers. Lisbeth Salander, not only a victim of her guardian from the previous book, also becomes a victim of the press, of the police, and of the social welfare system in Sweden. The murders are connected both with Lisbeth’s past as well as illegal sex trafficking into Sweden.

I’ve read complaints that Larsson takes forever to set up the story. I can agree with that. I didn’t think I could take any more hard-to-pronounce Swedish names being thrown at me. It was hard to keep everyone straight and it seemed to take forever to really get into the book. But it worked for me in the end. I have now gone from not sure I would finish the series, to eagerly awaiting the last book in the series.

2011 (cbriii) #14 "The Protector" by Marliss Melton

2011-12-10T16:32:00.001-08:00

I was so disappointed when I finished reading Sizzle that I immediately got on my phone and downloaded The Protector (2011) by Marliss Melton to my kindle. Not only am I thrilled that I can sit in my apartment (that does not have an internet connection) and instantly get a hold of any book I want to read at any time of day or night (I just recently bought my smartphone and my kindle, so it's still very exciting), but I also found The Protector to be much more entertaining than my previous endeavor. Perhaps I prefer some of her earlier novels, but at least it wasn't a disappointment.

Eryn McClellan teaches English at a school in Washington, D.C. Her father is head of the armed services over in the middle east. So, when the enemy takes a personal vendetta against her father for killing his son, and makes her a target of extremist groups over in the United States, Eryn is put in danger. The FBI is watching over Eryn, but the man in charge of the investigation is unethical, arrogant and incompetent. He uses Eryn as bait to draw out the extremists without much regard for her safety. Her father calls on a soldier he's worked with in the past to take Eryn away from the FBI and protect her himself. This soldier is Isaac Calhoun, who is haunted by a firefight gone bad that killed most of his team.

This book had interesting characters that actually grew and interacted throughout the book. The "bad guys" could have been incredibly annoying stereotypes, but I was impressed that Melton gave each of them a little background. Melton could have made the good and bad lines very black and white, but I appreciate that she took the time to delve into actual personalities and motives.

However, there were also some disappointments. The ending and drama forcing Eryn and Ike apart near the end of the book felt forced, unrealistic, and unnecessary. It also drove me crazy when Eryn and Ike descend from the top of a tree by sliding down a rope together. Anyone who has done anything on a rope would know that sliding down a rope tears your hands up like crazy. You wouldn't do it unless you didn't have any other choice. And two people sliding down a rope like that just sounds awkward. Also, if I remember correctly, the couple made love on top of a rock at the end of the book. That would be incredibly uncomfortable--even if the rock had some moss on it. The only thing I could think about was his knees and her butt. These are pretty minor pet peeves, however. On the whole, I enjoyed reading this one and I'll be looking for Melton's next novel.

2011 (cbriii) #13 "Sizzle" by Julie Garwood

2011-12-10T16:30:00.000-08:00

Another romance novel became available for me on Kindle through the public library, and I picked it up, expecting to be entertained at the very least. Julie Garwood is an author that I've read for awhile and I've really liked some of her books. I wasn't expecting great literature, but I was expecting something more. And I was disappointed.

Sizzle (2009) by Julie Garwood stars Lyra Prescott who is a documentary film student in the Los Angeles area. (I think it would be difficult to spoil this book, but just in case, be warned that I'm planning to discuss the entire plot.) Lyra gets herself attacked, so her roommate's brothers send in some FBI agents to protect them (because they have connections). Lyra ends up with a Scot (or half-Scot?, anyway, he has a Scottish accent) Sam Kincaid. They run around for a little while. Lyra is alternately trying to finish up her studies at school and going into hiding to avoid all the danger she's in--with Sam Kincaid by her side this whole time. Not surprisingly they stay alive, fall in love, and live happily ever after.

Now I am one who can ignore ridiculous plots if something involving the characters or storytelling draws me in. Unfortunately, it did not happen with this novel. The characters were lifeless. Lyra is a beautiful, hard-working student. Sam is a talented FBI agent who is very good at protecting her. His wife and the love of his life died three years ago (in a car accident? or maybe Garwood didn't give a reason?). After Lyra falls for him she assumes, without asking him, that he could never love her because of his deceased wife. Apparently they fell in love because they're both very good looking people, Sam had a sexy Scottish accent, and Sam was her assigned FBI agent.

And then there's the plot. Lyra is simultaneously hunted by: a delusional stalker intrigued by her beauty; a man who thinks she has some damning evidence against him (that she possibly unknowingly picked up when a crazy woman was throwing stuff out of her house); and mob connections who are after her because of one of her documentary projects. Perhaps all these plot twists were to try to make up for the lack of substance in the rest of the novel, but I just found it frustrating.

To be fair, I'm sure there are worse romance novels out there. At least Lyra has a life and isn't helpless. But this novel was flat and boring. It doesn't even compare with other novels I've read by Garwood. I was so disenchanted that when her latest novel became available at the library, I didn't even bother putting it on my kindle.

2011 (cbriii) #12 "The 19th Wife" by David Ebershoff

2011-12-10T16:28:00.000-08:00

I am not a religious person. Although I appreciate the charity and community that can come from churches, I think the negative stuff is much worse. The most frustrating aspect of religion is when someone uses “God” as an infallible reason for whatever stupid thing they want to justify. I think this probably occurs (or has occurred) in most religious sects, but it is especially apparent when the Mormon church used God’s will to justify polygamy.

I’ve read a number of books on religion in general and the Mormon Church in particular. This includes Jon Krakauer’s Under the Banner of Heaven as well as an autobiography written by a woman who was molested by her father and eventually left the Mormon Church. It’s a fascinating religion, in part, because it’s origins are so recent. Even though the stories in the bible are just as fantastical as the Mormon prophesies, the Mormon Church began in modern history. The stories are easier to disprove.

I think I first saw The 19^th Wife (2009) by David Ebershoff on a bookshelf somewhere, and it immediately caught my attention. When I saw it was available on Kindle, I picked it up immediately.

The 19^th Wife interweaves the stories of two women who lived over a hundred years apart; they are both the 19^th wives of high-ranking members of their church. One is Ann Eliza Young, the 19^th wife of Brigham Young, one of the Mormon Church’s founders. And the other is BeckyLyn, the wife of one of the “Firsts” a modern-day sect that broke from the Mormon Church when the Mormons officially discontinued polygamy. It is now located in Mesadale—a small, hot town in the middle of nowhere, Utah.

BeckyLyn’s story is told through her son, Jordan Scott, a twenty-year old “Lost Boy.” Jordan was kicked out of Mesadale as a young teenager to make room for all the lecherous old men in the community to marry all of the young girls. When Jordan Scott reads that his mother has been arrested for the murder of his father, he makes the difficult return trip to Utah and Mesadale to try to figure out what has happened.

Ann Eliza Young’s story begins with the description of how her parents joined Joseph Smith’s new church, met, and married, back in the late 1800’s. There is detail about the beginnings of the church, the persecution it faced, and their eventual move to Utah. Ann Eliza Young’s parents were also one of the first ones to be convinced that polygamy was God’s will. She goes into devastating detail about the toll it took on her mother when her father took another wife. Even though Brigham Young was her parents’ friend and knew her throughout her life, she eventually became one of his many wives.

This book had a lot going on, but it really worked for me. The history of the Mormon Church and it’s acceptance of polygamy is fascinating. The modern day polygamous sects where women and children live in isolated ignorance are also fascinating. On top of that, there is a murder mystery and Jordan Scott’s struggles in coming to terms with where he came from. Both the historical context and Jordan Scott’s perspective help to explain how polygamy could occur—both back then and today.

It’s easy for me to say that I would never put up with something as ridiculous, sexist, and annoying as polygamy (I really don’t like to share). But if it’s all I knew, if all the people I’ve been taught to trust since I was born tells me that God commands it, and if I had no other security or place to go, it would be very difficult to defy.

2011 (cbriii) #11 "Lady Susan" by Jane Austen

2011-12-10T16:26:00.000-08:00

My goal is to finish the reviews of all the books I've read this year before the end of the year. And then I'm never going to get behind again. Besides the lack of time and sometimes the lack of inclination, the main challenge now is knowing where to start. I have so many to write, my procrastination tendencies kick in and I freeze in indecisive laziness while contemplating which I should write about first: the books I read at the beginning of the year that I barely remember? Or the one I just finished reading while it's still fresh in my head? In an effort to just get started, I think I'm going with the easy ones first.

Lady Susan (1795) by Jane Austen is more of a short story than a novel. Written when Jane Austen was only about eighteen years old, it is not as involved or developed as Austen's later works. However, I still very much enjoyed the read.

The story is written almost entirely through letters. Instead of Austen's generally likeable heroines, Lady Susan is more psychopath than person. She uses everyone around her, makes their lives miserable--sometimes for no obvious reason--and does not care about the consequences. Part of her design is to get her daughter married off--most likely to get her out of the way. Lady Susan's power through charisma and deceit, especially over men, dominates the story.

Especially after complaining about the female characters in David Copperfield, I feel I should mention that Jane Austen does about the same with the male characters in Lady Susan. I cannot remember so many male characters in a story being so utterly oblivious, susceptible to suggestion, and malleable as those in Lady Susan. It's very interesting considering the time period, but despite laws to the contrary, it was the women in this novel who held all the power. The men would fall easily for Lady Susan's games over and over again while most of the women saw right through her. Even the end relies on the man being persuaded and brought to his senses by the women in his life before he makes the right decision. As noticeable as this was, I still enjoyed this story, and I'd recommend it to anyone who has enjoyed Austen's works in the past.

2011 (cbriii) #10 "David Copperfield" by Charles Dickens

2011-11-06T12:05:00.000-08:00

"Whether I should turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show."

It was these words, the opening sentence of David Copperfield (1850) by Charles Dickens, and quoted in The Cider House Rules that first piqued my interest in this novel. I’m not a particular fan of Dickens, but I like to catch up on the Classics once in awhile. Even though the couple of Dickens’ books that I read as a child are not particularly memorable, I didn’t have any negative connotations, either. So, when fire academy started and I knew I wouldn’t have much time to read, I bought David Copperfield in order to avoid the annoyance of borrowing library books and then having to return them unread or half-read. And over six months later, I finally finished the novel.

I did not know anything about the life or story of David Copperfield before picking up the book—except my mind kept associating it with magic because of the other David Copperfield. Although it was not true in my case, I will assume that because David Copperfield is a classic, with movies and such all over the place, that anyone reading this review is familiar with the story. Thus, I am planning on discussing the entire thing, with numerous spoilers throughout.

David Copperfield’s story begins with his birth. His father is already dead, and his mother dies when he is still a child. Left in the guardianship of the gruesomely horrible Mr. Murdstone and Mr. Murdstone’s sister, David ends up at a factory in London before finding his Aunt, who gives him another chance at life. Interestingly, some of Copperfield’s story closely resembles what happened to Dickens during his life. Throughout the novel, Copperfield changes from a self-conscious, powerless and clueless youth to an assured and well-respected writer. The many characters surrounding him during his life, play out their own stories beside him, some of them more memorably than Copperfield himself. David marries his first love, Dora, the beautiful and sweet but impossibly naïve and foolish girl that appears to have never matured past the age of twelve. He becomes a successful writer and in the end marries his soul mate (after Dora conveniently dies of something conveniently unnamed).

I’m rather torn when it comes to this one, so let me start with the good. On the one hand, it is an established classic, loved by millions, and even Dickens’ favorite. There are parts of this book that I very much enjoyed and every once in awhile a turn of phrase or insight into someone’s character had me admiring it more than I expected. I also enjoyed some of the characters: although David Copperfield seemed to act condescendingly towards him at times, Traddles was one of my favorite characters—sweet and unselfish, with a strong backbone for knowing and doing what was right. The bad characters were also deliciously depicted, including: the Murdstones, Schoolmaster Creakle, and Uriah Heep.

I found that the beginning and very end of the book were the best parts. Dickens was at his best in making me feel sorry for the poor, lost kid without a mother trying to live all alone in London. The pure evil of the Murdstones and the injustice of their actions towards the innocent, young David stirred my emotions. I found his situation compelling until he was settled down and in a somewhat safer position.

I did have a number of issues with this book, however. There were a number of unbelievable coincidences that kept the plot moving. At times, it was preachy, melodramatic, and wordy. The plot often drifted along with an awful lot of honorable speeches but very little to keep me interested. When you think of this book being published a chapter at a time in a serial publication, its layout makes more sense. It often felt more like a rambling, episodic television series than a movie with a concrete beginning, middle, and end.

And the women! I think that’s what bothered me most about the book. Although there might be a couple of semi-real women in the book, most of the important ones were written as soulless caricatures. I realize this book was written long ago, and I try to remember the context as I read. But I just kept thinking about Jane Austen and how she wrote about the same time (a little earlier) and how much better her women characters were, how much better their stories were, and how much more I enjoyed reading her books.

I had the biggest problem with the characterization of Little Emily, Dora, and Agnes. Agnes is the perfect angel: intelligent, selfless, loving, and devoted. She is very good at hiding her own feelings, never makes a mistake, and is always perfect. Although Agnes was running a school before her marriage to Copperfield, apparently one of her favorite pastimes is sitting up late and watching him work. How rewarding! I only hope she was able to at least knit or talk to him as he worked because I cannot imagine anything more boring.

Dora, Copperfield’s first wife (“child-wife” as they call her), is a beautiful, giggly, frivolous thing incapable of ever changing no matter her circumstances. Her inability to grow in any way and Copperfield’s continued ignorance that they are wholly incompatible was incredibly frustrating. As soon as Copperfield married Dora, I knew she was destined to die young and very quickly. There was no way they would end up as a lasting couple, and Copperfield was way too honorable to get a divorce. Hence the very convenient and unnamed something that killed her, although I’m kind of offended that Dickens solved Copperfield’s poor marital choice with an easy death. It would have been much more interesting if Copperfield had to face the fact that he’d married the wrong woman and dealt with it.

And then there was “Little Emily,” a childhood crush of David’s, Emily is (ostensibly) intelligent, poor, and beautiful, but that’s really all we ever know about her. She is engaged to Ham, a cousin she grew up with, but I think she agreed to the marriage more from lack of options than anything. When Steerforth comes along and steals her away to Europe, it’s as if the world is about to end. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what bothered me most about this section, but I think it’s the combination of the assumed helplessness of Emily along with the shame. Copperfield so nobly feels very sorry for her, and especially for her poor uncle, and tries to help, but he never speaks to her again.

For hundreds of pages before Emily’s ruin, Copperfield not-so-subtly foreshadows Emily’s demise with melodramatic words such as: “There has been a time since…when I have asked myself the question, would it have been better for little Em’ly to have had the waters close above her head that morning in my sight; and when I have answered Yes, it would have been.” The mystery of what would occur kept me reading for awhile, but when Emily finally runs off with Steerforth, I was disappointed. It could have been really dramatic, but the way Dickens wrote it made it feel like everyone was overreacting and being annoyingly pious. Again, different era, but when I compare it to a similar situation in Pride and Prejudice, Austen comes out on top: I was shocked when Lydia ran away and fully understood the ramifications for the family. In this book, Emily’s entire family loves her and will not kick her out. All this weeping and the complete lack of Emily’s perspective—by the time she’s found she’s barely even a character any more—just turned me off.

This is going on way too long for me to go into any more detail, but I also wanted to mention that Dr. Strong and his wife’s relationship also creeped me out.

But in the end, Copperfield finally realizes his soul mate has been in his life all along, and I have to admit the poetry and ardency of his feelings won me over. Sure, a real woman could never be like Agnes, but David’s reliance on her felt real. It’s interesting that Copperfield begins the book with talk of the hero of his life, but throughout the book his focus is always on friends and family. All of his successes in business and writing are mentioned but glossed over as seemingly unimportant. Dickens couldn’t write a satisfying woman character, but he did seem to be a romantic at heart. David Copperfield did not succeed in life until he discovered he loved Agnes and married her.

2011 (cbriii) #9 "Pursuit" by Karen Robards

2011-10-30T11:04:00.000-07:00

The newest, cheapest, most simple version of the kindle just recently sucked me in. I've always loved the aesthetic of books: how the pages feel, the cover art, the thickness as you hold it, the typesetting. But the cheap price and the ability to check out books from the library without the inherent risk of bedbugs along with them (I'm only being a little paranoid here; I got bedbugs about three years ago, suspiciously coinciding with the public library dealing with the same issue.) convinced me that I could give up the aesthetic for convenience. I have yet to determine if the kindle will drastically change my reading habits. Between the relatively limited selection at the library and the plethora of free classics on Amazon, I'll have to see what I actually end up reading.

One thing that's easier is getting and reading those guilty-pleasure romance novels. The covers of my favorite romance authors seem to be trending in the more respectable direction, but it's hard to take myself seriously when I'm walking around with a cover boasting a sweaty, shirtless dream man. Thus, my first couple of books I got for my kindle from the library were romance novels, although this is mostly to do with the fact that there are incredibly long wait lists for some of the other books I'm waiting to read.

Pursuit (2009) by Karen Robards is one of those novels. I've read a number of her books and they are always full of suspense and mystery. They also tend to be relatively violent, but they've always been easy and interesting to read. This one was no different. I finished it in about two sittings, and despite the fact that I found some of it ridiculously unbelievable, I was entertained throughout.

Jessica Ford is a new associate at a powerful, influential law firm in D.C. Her boss, Mr. Davenport, is close friends and the personal attorney of the first lady. After a car crash kills the first lady, with Jessica as the only survivor, she finds her life in danger as unknown assailants with powerful connections try to take out the only witness to what might have been murder. Mark Ryan (a romance novel name, if ever I've heard one--and an ex-professional football player!) was in charge of the secret service detail for the first lady and is also interested in finding out some answers.

The action in this book never stops. Someone's life is always in jeopardy, the characters are always running and barely getting away. Again, it was difficult to put down. I think Robards did a good job by putting the romance on the back burner for most of the book. The characters don't fall into each others' arms the first time they see each other, but deal with trying to keep themselves alive first. It felt like--and could probably be turned into--a possibly entertaining although rather predictable action movie.

***SPOILER***I had a couple of problems with the believability of some of the plot points. For instance, how could a junior associate know how to access the President of the United States' phone records? Unfortunately, the most unbelievable of these plot points anchored the entire story. Fortunately, you don't learn about it until the end, so for most of the book, you think something really interesting might be going on. The motive for the brutal murder of the first lady as well as the killing and chasing down of countless innocents is that the first lady had her husband's phone, which contained some videos of him practicing some bondage with another woman. Sure, this might be timely coming right before the whole Anthony Weiner scandal, but in my opinion, it is a ridiculous motive for murder. And the end was wholly unsatisfying. I wanted the truth to come out and let the pieces fall where they would, but instead all the bad people were killed in a plane crash. Blegh. I'm against the death penalty, and even more so when it is done by god knows who with no trial. That's not justice. ***END SPOILER***

And they lived happily ever after.

2011 (cbriii) #8 "Call Me Irresistible" by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

2011-10-18T15:35:00.001-07:00

Susan Elizabeth Phillips is another one of my favorite romance authors, so I always make efforts to read her latest book. And I've never been disappointed. Again, I'm not expecting ground-breaking literature, here, just some fun entertainment and escapism for a few hours. Call Me Irresistible (2011) is her latest, and it felt like something of a family reunion, with many of the people and couples from earlier books.

Susan Elizabeth Phillips does not rely on danger and adventure for her books. They tend to be focused on eccentric but lovable characters and the witty banter among them. As unrealistic as her stories might be, she always manages to create a feeling of family and support for her characters that anyone in the real world might envy. And the story is generally entertaining enough that anything annoying or unbelievable you just let go because it doesn't matter.

In this novel, Meg Koranda, the underachieving daughter of a famous actor and a supermodel (apparently a couple from another novel that either I haven't read or don't remember) drives into Wynette, Texas to be her best friend's bridesmaid. She has just been cut off from her family in their effort to encourage her to make something of her life. Unfortunately, when she meets the groom-to-be, she realizes it's not going to work and helps Lucy Jorik (a previous character from yet another Susan Elizabeth Phillips novel and the daughter of the previous President of the United States) run away from her wedding.

Amidst the wake of the ruined wedding, everyone flies out of Wynette, leaving Meg Koranda alone in Wynette with no money, along with the scorned groom, Ted Beaudine. It's obvious already who ends up together. The story follows Meg as she finds ways to be productive and contribute something to the world. There's also a lot of golfing and some rather surprising lectures on the environment and how we need to be stewards of the land (which I agree with, I was just didn't expect to see it in this medium; when the author glorifies a small town in Texas, I don't expect her to have similar political views).

This probably wasn't one of my favorite books from this author, although I still enjoyed reading it. Perhaps when all the characters are already drawn out from previous novels, it's more difficult to form a story around them. Sometimes it definitely felt forced. One of the things that really bothered me was that both Meg and Ted (the heroes here) pretended to be interested in other people because they wanted them to invest in the new golf course they were trying to get built in Wynette. True, of course, these people turned out to be rather horrible, but why does the author think it's okay to mess with people's feelings like that? If you're not interested in someone, don't use their feelings for your own advantage. Sure, it created some interesting love triangles, but the heartlessness of it still bothered me. Anyway, I'll still be looking forward to reading her next book.

2011 (cbriii) #7 "When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present" by Gail Collins

2011-10-18T15:32:00.000-07:00

I knew that fire academy was going to last five months, and I knew that I would have almost no time to read while I was trying to work full time and become a certified firefighter. So, I went to my local bookstore and bought a couple of long books. I was looking specifically for books that would take me awhile to read. I ended up with David Copperfield (which, indeed, took me a long time to read) and When Everything Changed (2009) by Gail Collins. I finished When Everything Changed within a week.

"So there you are. American women had shattered the ancient traditions that deprived them of independence and the right to have adventures of their own, and done it so thoroughly that few women under 30 had any real concept that things had ever been different."

Gail Collins, a New York Times columnist, does a fantastic job of giving both an overview as well as personal details of women's lives and limitations from the 1960's through the present. It is both interesting and readable as well as detailed and well researched. Although it is obvious that Collins prefers gender equality, the text does not come across as political, angry, or pedantic.

I think issues of women's equality, differences between the sexes, and where we want to end up are fascinating subjects. I remember being shocked when I first saw the famous picture of Kathrine Switzer being pushed out of the Boston marathon in 1967. It was then that I realized women's lives had changed rather drastically and not that long ago.

Collins starts out at the beginning of the 1960's when a woman was kicked out of court (she was trying to pay a traffic ticket for her husband) because she was wearing slacks instead of a dress or skirt. At the time, the woman who was kicked out thought the judge was being perfectly reasonable. In addition, women couldn't hold their own credit cards or qualify for loans without the signature of a husband or father. Collins also discusses the Civil Rights movement and how women were often left behind. She also goes into equality in the workplace and the struggle for women today to balance motherhood and work. Every subject was eye opening and fascinating. Collins balanced the general views of the time periods with more personal stories of specific women. This is not a slog through dense history but a page turner that never gets boring.

Right now I am an attorney where law schools are at least 50% women, and women often make up the majority of the top students. Yet there is still a huge discrepancy in women partners, women CEO's, etc. I'm sure that many women choose to raise children rather than focusing more on their career. But there is also a good old boys' club that the guys I work with don't even recognize. On the other hand, I am trying to become a firefighter, a job that is both incredibly physical and known for its macho guys. Even though I am fit, I cannot compete with the guys purely on strength--something they value highly. But in some ways I am treated much more equally on the fire grounds: they expect you to suck it up and be strong or leave.

I'm not sure where I'm going with all of this except to say that women's and men's roles in societies are very complex and very dependent on the accepted culture of the day. Collins manages to give us a glimpse of what occurred to give me the rights and choices I have today. It was fascinating and I would recommend this book to anyone--whether you already know a lot about the subject or not.

2011 (cbriii) #6 "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" by Muriel Spark

2011-10-18T15:31:00.001-07:00

I came across The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1961) by Muriel Spark when my mother was cleaning out her bookshelf in anticipation of moving. I'm always a sucker for free books and although I had never heard of it, this slim novel looked like some kind of classic. I couldn't resist. (And, of course, it turns out that it is a major classic, with film, television, and theatrical adaptations).

Miss Jean Brodie is an unorthodox teacher in a junior school in 1930's Edinburgh. Six young girls become her favorites and are known as the "Brodie set." Miss Brodie wants to give these girls a full education and strives to go beyond the narrow confines of the recommended curriculum. As the girls grow out of her class, Miss Brodie continues to be an exceptional influence on their lives. However, the relationships are complex and sometimes dysfunctional.

What makes this book interesting are Spark's characters. Miss Brodie is devoted to her students and eager to teach them. However, she also uses them for her own purposes and to make herself feel more important. She is not a heroic character fighting against an antiquated education system. She is sneaky, self-serving, and often wrong. Sandy, one of Miss Brodie's students, is another fascinating character. She is Miss Brodie's closest confidante, but she often works against her.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie is one of those books that can be read quickly and easily, but figuring out the nuances and meanings can go on forever. It might be a good one for a book club with some discussion. I finished it feeling somewhat confused, and it would have been good to hear different perspectives of what other readers thought was going on. This was an interesting classic and worth reading but not one of my favorites. It felt more like a book I was told to read in English class than one I could really relate to and love on my own.

2011 (cbriii) #5 "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" by Stieg Larsson

2011-10-18T15:29:00.001-07:00

Since the American movie has just come out, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2008) by Stieg Larsson is all over the place. As of now, I have not seen any of the movies and I'm in the middle of reading the final book of the trilogy. I am very curious to see how reading the final installment will color my view of the first two books, as well as the series as a whole. (Because the story is so well-known at this point, I've decided to not worry about spoilers in the paragraphs below.)

Lisbeth Salander is an intelligent, but isolated and socially awkward young woman. Deemed incompetent by the courts, she lives under the direction of a newly appointed guardian. Lisbeth Salander is a master with computers and has a photographic memory. Her skills make her very useful to the private security firm where she works. The other protagonist in the book, Mikael Blomkvist, is a famous journalist who has just been convicted of libel. He is approached by an elderly millionaire to write a biography of his family, and at the same time investigate the disappearance of the gentleman's granddaughter. The elderly millionaire also approaches Salander's employer to get a background check on Blomkvist before he hires him.

Salander becomes aware of Blomkvist when she is assigned to do his background check. Blomkvist becomes aware of Salander when he discovers that she has hacked into his computer. In the end, they team up to try to solve the mysterious disappearance of Harriet Vanger, the gentleman's granddaughter.

In the midst of this main mystery is the mystery of Lisbeth Salander, her life, and her background. Her new guardian is a sadistic asshole who uses his power over her to sexually assault and rape her. Salander is powerless, having already been found incompetent, she knows that no one would take her side over her guardian's. But she gets back at him the only way she knows how in a smart, brave, but very brutal fashion.

I'm not a fan of reading a lot of superfluous violence, and I was a little disappointed in this book. I felt that the only thing that separated it from any other mediocre murder mystery book was the pervasive sexual violence that at times seemed gratuitous. Sure, you can say that the book is about vengeance and powerful women because Lisbeth is able to get back at him. But some movies and books seem to revel in the violence against women as well as the revenge violence, and they just end up glorifying all kinds of violence. I'm not a fan of vengeance. I understand how people who have been hurt might yearn for it, but in the end it doesn't erase the original crime and it doesn't help society. In Lisbeth's case, she didn't have much of a choice, but then there are also all the stories of the women tortured and murdered by the serial killer. Although Lisbeth makes for a very interesting character, there didn't seem to be much to this book besides rape and torture.

One other thing that bothered me about this book was Mikael Blomkvist and all of his casual sex. I am very much "to each their own" when it comes to people's choices on sex, but Blomkvist went running around sleeping with every woman he ran into and there weren't any consequences. I guess the relationship that bothered me the most was between Mikael Blomkvist and Erika Berger. Erika Berger is married and her husband knows of and approves of her affairs with Blomkvist. She just calls her hubby to tell him when she'll be staying with Mikael and everything's just fine. I cannot comprehend it. I would not happily or willingly share my spouse (if I had one). I've only seen this kind of thing happen where one person is desperate not to lose their lover, so they agree to anything to keep them. And it's sad. I don't pretend to know what people are comfortable with when it comes to sex, but that relationship still bothers me when I read about it. And then Blomkvist moves on to a clearly troubled and much younger woman. I know there are some similarities between the author and his main character; I couldn't help but wonder if he was just fulfilling some fantasies by giving himself all of the women in the novel.

Because of all of the above, I was ready to give up the series at this point. When the second novel in the series was the only thing I could find to read on my kindle, I gave it another try. Because the second novel went a little deeper into Lisbeth's character and past, making her more understandable, and because there was a little less sexual assault, I decided I did like the series after all. And now I'm finally reading the third novel in the series.

2011 (cbriii) #4 "The Pillars of the Earth" by Ken Follett

2011-10-18T15:27:00.000-07:00

The Pillars of the Earth (1989) by Ken Follett is a pretty large undertaking—almost 1,000 pages of history and drama—focused on building a cathedral in the fictional town of Kingsbridge in the 12^th Centruy. Not only was it on Oprah’s book list, but it’s been adapted for television as well. I was expecting good things from this book, and I found it to be a quick and engaging read. However, as much as the beginning intrigued me, I thought the ending dragged on as the story became repetitive and the characters more unbelievable. Follett seemed very focused on making sure that this beautiful, new style of cathedral was built. And he forced his characters to fit that plot line. Unfortunately for me, I was much more interested in the characters than the cathedral. What could have been a fascinating glimpse into the lives, history, politics and religion of the middle ages turned into something a little more mundane in the end.

The Pillars of the Earth starts out both exciting and mysterious, with a number of fascinating characters. Tom is a master builder looking for work with his family. His wife is pregnant and his family is starving as they roam around the countryside with no help in sight. Ellen is a mysterious, “witch-like” woman who lives in the forest with her son, Jack. Ellen is one of the few people who know exactly what happened to Jack’s father. Ariana and her brother Richard are the children of an earl when their land is attacked and their father killed. Ariana is left beaten and broken with nothing. William Hamleigh is a vicious and sadistic young man who makes a good villian for the book. And speaking of villians, Waleron is an entirely corrupt and power hungry religious figure who manages to affect the lives of all the characters.

Like I mentioned earlier, these storylines and characters initially caught my attention. The danger and bleakness they were struggling with as well as the themes of power, religion, and corruption kept the story exciting. My disappointment with the book came later. ***SPOILER*** For instance, Follett created Ariana as an intelligent, creative, stubborn, and free-thinking woman. Not only was she one of a very few businesswomen of that time, but she thrived. Starting with nothing, she created a great life for herself. Yet I’m supposed to believe that Ariana would give up on herself, disregard the man she loves and marry a man she detests? And when she conveniently realizes her mistake once her true love goes wandering about the European continent, she decides to leave her baby and follow him? It’s not until the baby’ grandmother suggests taking the baby with her that she thinks, “Oh, okay, I’ll take my baby with me.” Ariana begins the novel as one of the most intelligent and decisive characters within, but halfway through the novel she loses all of her willpower and becomes a pawn to Follett’s plotline. It was really frustrating to read.

Besides my problems with some of the actions of the main characters, the longer the book went on, the more repetitive it became. The building of the cathedral took a very long time, so Follett required a story that filled many years. Unfortunately, this made me feel like I was reading the same story of destruction and rebuilding over and over again. I didn’t know how many times William Hamleigh could destroy Ariana’s life, but apparently it was a lot. This weakness turned the book from a classic that I could remember for a long time into just another sometimes thrilling, interesting book. It’s probably worth reading, if you’ve the inclination, but it’s not a book that I would rave about.

2011 (cbriii) #3 "Cities of the Plain" by Cormac McCarthy

2011-10-18T15:26:00.001-07:00

Once I stumbled upon Cormac McCarthy's novels, I have always tried to read at least one book by him a year. I don't think I could handle reading two of his books back to back. They tend to be on the intense and heartbreaking side. But his writing is amazing. I don't know how he does it, but at the end of his books I'm left with a heavy, hollow feeling of loss and sadness.

Just to make it clear, I cannot do justice to Cities of the Plain (1998). I do not even feel qualified to critique or review it. And this one I read almost a full year ago, so I do not remember it very well. If you really enjoy words and literature then you should read Cormac McCarthy.

Cities of the Plain is the third book in a western trilogy that starts with All the Pretty Horses (I have not seen the movie) and The Crossing. John Grady Cole, the protagonist of the first book, and Billy Parham, the main character in the second novel are both older and working together at a ranch just south of Alamogordo, New Mexico. John Grady falls in love with a prostitute in Mexico and goes after her with hopeful optimism and honor. And if you have read any McCarthy novels, you probably already know that they may not live happily ever after. Yet the writing is still superb and the story is haunting and disturbing--everything you would expect from McCarthy.

2011 (cbriii) #2 "Victory of Eagles" by Naomi Novik

2011-10-18T15:24:00.000-07:00

I'm still stubbornly trying to catch up on writing reviews for books I can barely remember reading. And I'm also still stubbornly trying to finish this Temeraire series. I'm generally not a big fan of fantasy, but the first novel had such an original twining of history with the fascinating characters of the different dragons, that I got sucked in. I was disappointed by some of the succeeding books in this series and Ms. Novik and I are going to have to agree to disagree on the proper use of a semicolon, but I like to finish what I start. Thus, Victory of Eagles (2008) by Naomi Novik was one of the first books I read this year.

All of the plots of these novels tend to merge in my mind. Especially when it's been awhile since I've read it. But having just refreshed my recollection by reading Amazon reviews, I can say that Victory of Eagles begins with the dragon Temeraire and his beloved Captain Laurence separated because of their "treasonous" act at the end of the last book. Temeraire is sent up to the breeding site in Wales, and Laurence is made prisoner on a ship. The only way Temeraire even accedes to this is because of their promise not to harm Captain Laurence. However, when Temeraire hears that the ship Laurence is on has sunk with no survivors, he gathers the dragons around him to leave the breeding site and go fight the French. Although I have vague memories of Lien (the Chinese dragon that is Temeraire's nemesis) creating a giant tidal wave (in fact, I'm not even sure if the tidal wave is from this book), I cannot remember how this book ends. Some of the reviews mention something happening in Australia, which I think is the setting of the next novel. Hopefully it will all come back to me when I start reading the next novel.

I think I've gotten into something of a rhythm with these books. I don't particularly enjoy them, and they're not a favorite genre of mine, but I still enjoy the characters enough to keep reading. I also want find out how it's all going to end--probably just for the sake of closure. Temeraire is still very endearing, his independence, honesty, adventurousness, and loyalty make him very likable, and it was heart wrenching to read about his pain when he thought Laurence was dead. The honorable Captain Laurence is also very interesting, especially with his struggles as a condemned traitor.

I am not sure that I would recommend this series to anyone, unless they were an avid fan of dragons/fantasy/history because there are so many other books to read out there, but I definitely enjoy these books enough to finish out the series myself.

2011 (cbriii) #1 "Packing for Mars" by Mary Roach

2011-01-11T21:29:00.000-08:00

Now that it's almost November, it's probably about time I started on my 3rd edition of Cannonball Read reviews. My reading has dropped off drastically, and I'm barely scraping enough time together to get these reviews done now. Five months of the year has been taken up with fire academy. I read almost nothing but firefighting and hazardous materials books, and it was exhausting. I've also found that working full time sucks up your available free time like it's supposed to be your life's passion. But now that I am a bona fide volunteer firefighter, and recently become single, I'm finding more time to catch up on my reading and reviews. Since I read some of these books about, say, nine months ago, I am now discovering how much easier it is to write reviews right after reading the book. Thus, these first couple of reviews may be a little short because I can barely remember reading the books.

Mary Roach is one of those people whose lives I admire. She seems to have found success at a profession where she can follow her own curiosities and whims, learn about them to an extent not always possible without the "press" label, and then write an entertaining book about those subjects. She's gone from sex to death to the afterlife, and I've enjoyed all of them--although Spook was probably my least favorite. In Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void (2010), Roach was able to experience weightlessness in the "vomit comet" airplane--something I've always wanted to experience.

Roach has an obvious interest in the often harrowing and adventurous life of astronauts and she delves into all of the aspects of that profession that most people don't think about or ignore. Not only does she describe how astronauts are chosen around the world--with some fascinating differences between the Americans and the Japanese, but she also explores all of the messy but necessary human functions and how they are managed in space (including eating, drinking, sex, and going to the bathroom). Roach also discusses what would be required for a trip to Mars, some of the experiments on animals and people before we made it into space, and other fascinating little bits of information that I cannot remember off the top of my head.

I found this book easy to read and a fascinating look at astronauts from a slightly different perspective. I am a fan of Mary Roach's irreverence and focus on the unusual, and I plan to read about whatever subject catches her interest for her next book.

Redux #42 - "Room" by Emma Donoghue

2011-01-01T21:57:00.000-08:00

A woman on the bus saw me reading Geek Love and asked me if I'd read Room (2010) by Emma Donoghue. I hadn't even heard of it, but I figured she must have an interest in good literature if she'd read Geek Love. So I did an Amazon search when I got to work, read some good reviews, and that was enough for me.

Room is a story told by a five-year-old boy named Jack whose whole world consists of a small room where he lives with his mother. Jack doesn't fully understand his situation, but the reader gradually comes to understand that his mother was kidnapped and has been locked in a shed for seven years for the sexual gratification of her captor. Jack was born in the room, and as he gets older, he starts questioning and learning about his situation more and more. The first half of the book involves Jack describing his life, routine, and perceptions in "Room." Jack does not know that there is a world outside with other kids, fresh air, and animals, and everything he thinks everything he sees on his television set is fake.

The second half of the book focuses on Jack's and his mother's transition when they suddenly become free. Jack has to adjust to a scary, new world that he barely knew existed. Jack is a kid who has never experienced stairs, never interacted with anyone besides his mother, and never had to see farther than the 10 or so feet of his Room. He has a lot to learn and experience, and the world is intensely interested in him.

I found Room to be a quick and interesting read. I thought Donoghue did a very good job with the psychology of Jack and his mother. They were believable and interesting people, and their reactions and thoughts to their situations felt very real and understandable. It was different to get inside the head of a kid, especially a kid with such a unique perspective on the world.

I often feel that the news leaps on stories of cute, white children or young women being kidnapped and sexually assaulted, in a disturbingly fascinated and exploitative manner. For instance, I detest Nancy Grace because she pretends to be something of a victim's advocate, but all I've ever seen her do is revel in the details of victims' stories for her own gain. Thus I tend to be hypersensitive and avoid stories that involve rape or some titillating sexual exploitation for no other sake than to gain people's interest. And I was wary of this storyline in Room as well. This story obviously parallels some of the stories we've heard about recently in the news where women were kidnapped and remained trapped for years, bearing their children in captivity. However, because this story is told from Jack's perspective and focuses more on his adjustment, it did not bother me as much as it might have.

The best thing about Room is the character of Jack and how he describes and learns about his world in his own words. I thought the book was interesting, sometimes suspenseful, and although I don't see this novel turning into a classic, I'd recommend it.

Redux #41 - "Geek Love" by Katherine Dunn

2010-12-26T22:06:00.000-08:00

Geek Love (1983) by Katherine Dunn first came to my attention on some kind of Pajiba book list, and then I was reminded of it again when one of my office mates started reading it. Usually it only takes a couple of exposures to a new book before I decide that it needs to be read. I was a little surprised, however, to find that it was written back in 1983, when I was only four. I had the impression that it was a new book, but I can see why it has stuck around so long, Geek Love is interesting, well-written, and one of the most bizarre and creative books that I have ever read.

The narrator of this tale is Olympia Binewski, daughter of owners of a traveling carnival. Although they travel all over the country, the small world of the carnival and her family is the only thing she knows. Oly is also the product of her parents' attempt to profit from their prodigy by creating "freaks" for their acts by experimenting with drugs and chemicals during her mother's pregnancy. The result is a truly unique and dysfunctional family with Oly as the most normal--and thus least profitable and important--of her siblings, an albino hunchback dwarf. And in a family where children are looked at as products and normal children are cast out of the family as useless, Oly does not have a lot of self-esteem or carry much power within the family.

This book works on a number of levels. First, the story is a fascinating, creative tale that keeps you reading. This is not a predictable book, and the language and story are completely unique and often disturbing. It was never hard for me to pick this book up and immediately get into it, even when the actions of some of the characters were making my stomach hurt. There is also something of a fantastical element to this book; it goes beyond what is possible, but Dunn somehow makes it believable for the world that she's created. And even though the actual situations the family encounters are beyond anything I would ever experience or relate to, there are some true family dynamics throughout the book. Al, Oly's father, is something of a heartless tyrant, and you can see how his influence settles over the relationships and power struggles between his children.

Geek Love is one of those books that is impossible to sum up; I don't even want to try because it would sound so bizarre and off-putting. It's just one of those books that needs to be experienced. This one will leave you more unsettled and disturbed than happy, but it is a wonderfully written and unique novel that stands the test of time.

Redux #40 - "Idyll Banter" by Chris Bohjalian

2010-12-01T20:35:00.001-08:00

I found Idyll Banter (2004) by Chris Bohjalian as I was searching through the library's catalog, looking for something new to read. I've read Midwives, so I recognized the author's name; and having just finished Annie Proulx's short stories, I was ready for something a little less heartbreaking and traumatizing.

I've only known Bohjalian as a fiction writer, so I didn't really know what to expect. Idyll Banter is composed of many short, non-fiction articles that Bohjalian wrote for a local newspaper about his little town of Lincoln, Vermont. After giving up on city life and moving from Brooklyn (or Manhattan?) to Lincoln with his wife, Bohjalian has stayed there, raised his daughter, and fell in love with it.

Both the tone of the stories as well as their content reminded me of the small, close-knit but eccentric community from Gilmore Girls. Bohjalian paints a picture of a happy, idyllic town where the pace is a little slower and people still watch out for their neighbors. Perhaps someone a little more cynical than me could--rightfully--call this book a bit on the syrupy and sentimental side. However, the stories were entertaining and often amusing. It is obvious that Bohjalian has a great deal of affection for his adopted home and it comes across easily in his writing. Although it wasn't life changing, this wasn't a hard book to read or finish, and it made me feel good about some places and people in the world.

Redux #39 - "Fine Just the Way It Is: Wyoming Stories 3" by Annie Proulx

2010-11-21T21:46:00.000-08:00

I always find it more difficult to review books of short stories. I think it's because I'm not sure what to focus on. Should I quickly discuss each story and my reaction? Try to find a common theme and discuss my general impression? It is even a greater challenge today because I already returned the book, so I can't remind myself of the titles or plot of some of the stories. I'm also in a bit of a rush because it's late and I desperately want to catch up on these reviews. Anyway, I've heard a lot about Annie Proulx, I've read "Brokeback Mountain" and seen the movie, and I figured she would be a good author to read. I was reminded of her again and decided to read Fine Just the Way It Is: Wyoming Stories 3 (2008) when I saw that it was one of the final choices for Denver's book club this year.

Fine Just the Way It Is includes nine different short stories that primarily take place in Wyoming in both the past and present. There are a couple satirical stories that have the devil as the main character, but the rest are hard and brutally honest stories about struggle and survival and life in Wyoming. These stories include: "Family Man," "I've Always Loved This Place," "Them Old Cowboy Songs," "The Sagebrush Kid," "The Great Divide," "Deep-Blood-Greasy-Bowl," "Swamp Mischief," "Testimony of the Donkey," and "Tits-Up in a Ditch."

I guess you could say the common theme in these stories is that life sucks and then you die. Story after story just left me catching my breath in horror. I often read on the bus on the way to work, and I came into work one day freaked out by the image I had in my head of a poor girl who had died in childbirth. And then on the way home, I was able to finish the story, and it just got more disturbing. Annie Proulx's writing is very powerful, though. Her stories are sparse, straightforward, and unsentimental, but they grab your attention and stay with you for a long time. Just thinking back on them to write this review makes me appreciate them more.

Living in Colorado, even though it's not Wyoming, I think I also have an appreciation for the West and the ruggedness that was in each Proulx story. I also recognize Proulx's talent for storytelling. I can't exactly say that Fine Just the Way It Is was an enjoyable read, but I'd recommend it to anyone who can handle the bleakness and sadness that Proulx portrays.

Redux #38 - "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley

2010-11-21T21:44:00.000-08:00

I am not a fan of horror by any means. The two horror movies that I've seen in the past ten years have been Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead, both of which are not exactly typical, but that's where my tastes lie. However, I am on a kick to read more women authors, and there is no denying that Mary Shelley has had some massive influence, with tons of movies and books being spawned from her creation. And what is even more impressive is that Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein (1818) when she was only eighteen.

Having never seen any of the Frankenstein movies, knowing only vaguely that the story involved bringing a monster to life, and knowing nothing about Mary Shelley's life, I learned a great deal just reading the introduction. First of all, I had always thought that Frankenstein was the name of the monster. In fact, Frankenstein is the name of the man who brings the monster to life. Once I finally figured that out, the introduction started making a lot more sense. Also, Mary Shelley led a rather fascinating and scandalous life. (I don't have the book anymore, and this recap is from memory, so please forgive any factual errors). Born to two radicals, her mother died shortly after her birth. Mary "eloped" with Percy Shelley, a married man when she was seventeen, and both Mary and Percy Shelley's wife continued to have his children until Percy Shelley's wife eventually killed herself. I think I wouldn't mind reading some kind of biography of Mary Shelley.

As far as the actual story of Frankenstein goes, I think it vacillates between being completely absurd and absolutely heartbreaking. The plot and the dialogue leave a lot to be desired. There are so many plot points that I felt were kind of ridiculous, it is difficult to even recount them all here. I have no problem with the idea that Frankenstein could make life, because you need that for the book, and Shelley was nice and vague about how it all worked. But when the monster is created, I found it difficult to believe that he would run immediately out into the woods instead of staying in the safe environment of his creation. The fact that he was entirely educated in less than a year by spying on a family I also find rather unrealistic. And then the monster figures out the story of his creation because he happened to have grabbed Frankenstein's diary as he ran out into the woods on the day he was created. So after wandering down towards Switzerland to find his maker, the monster happens to run into Frankenstein's brother, who he accidentally kills. The coincidences are just a little too much.

The dialogue was also overly romantic; all of the characters, even the monster, spoke with the exact same tone and language, which was always flowery and dramatic. Elizabeth, Frankenstein's love interest, was always utterly selfless and kind. She lived only to help those around her and besides being worried about them and being utterly loyal and loving, she didn't have much of a personality. It was also jarring that it was impossible to tell any difference between the speech of Frankenstein and his monster. These are two rather different characters with drastically different backgrounds.

However, the strength of the novel is in the tragedy of the story. I did think that Mary Shelley succeeded in conveying the loneliness, isolation, and despair that Frankenstein's monster felt, and by the end of the book I hated Frankenstein and his hypocritical, self-serving ways. Shelley's prescient warning about blind ambition for the power to make and create without thinking about the costs and effects was also very interesting and relevant. Although Frankenstein certainly is not the perfect novel, I learned a lot and I'm glad I read it.

Redux #37 - "Bright-Sided" by Barbara Ehrenreich

2010-10-23T09:26:00.000-07:00

I've been on a roll lately with reading books by women authors. I saw Barbara Ehrenreich on "The Daily Show" and decided her latest book would be worth reading. I've already read Nickel and Dimed by Ehrenreich. I thought that one was pretty interesting, although many of her points seemed really obvious to me, as I've had a number of low-skill, low-paying jobs. Unfortunately, I came away from Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America (2009) rather frustrated and disappointed.

Barbara Ehrenreich recently dealt with breast cancer, and it was her experience fighting this disease that gave her the idea for the book. While she was facing one of the worst times of her life, she was surrounded by pink frilliness and forced cheer. In fact, she felt the pressure to conform and not discuss fear, anger, and despair. She argues that the belief that positive thinking will heal you can actually be destructive if and when you don't improve, because then the blame can be shifted from the cancer to the fact that you're not trying hard enough. The distraction of positive thinking can also make people shift focus from some of the environmental factors that are causing increased rates of cancer and what we can do about it. I found this introductory chapter to be the strongest of the book; I liked the aspect of Ehrenreich's personal story, and it was the most convincing.

However, after that first chapter, I could not follow Ehrenreich's argument. I felt she had to fish around to get enough material to make into a book, and it doesn't all fit together well. The first problem I have with her premise is that she doesn't ever clearly define what she means by positive thinking. It also wasn't clear whether she was denouncing all positive thinking or just positive thinking to some kind of excess. Ehrenreich doesn't discuss this, but it is not an easy black and white answer that positive thinking won't help you. For instance, I am most familiar with positive thinking and visualizing when it comes to sports, and I've seen and felt it work myself. Your brain is an amazing tool that we don't even begin to understand, and believing that you can do something or imagining yourself succeeding will often make the difference between failure or success. Therefore, if Ehrenreich is writing a blanket denial of the efficacy of positive thinking, then she was wholly unconvincing.

After discussing cancer, Ehrenreich moves on with chapters on motivational speakers, positive thinking in the workplace, large religious congregations, and "the law of attraction." I think her strongest point may be that corporations, as well as people, use positive thinking to avoid looking hard at some real problems. Corporations are downsizing and firing half their staff, and if they think giving you a motivational book or hiring a speaker is going to make it all better, that's certainly not true. My main problem with the rest of the book can be shown with Ehrenreich's focus on religion using positive thinking. She discussed both rich, greedy televangelists as well as some of the gigantic churches out in the suburbs. The problem I had with this argument is that it's not clear what kind of influence these people have on society as a whole. Sure, they spout out some crazy, unhelpful things, but I never had a high opinion of televangelists. In fact, I had very little interest in reading about them. The same goes with the corporations. The fact that corporations might encourage positive thinking and bring in some speakers is not one of my major concerns; in fact, I'm a lot more worried over corporations' influence over our political process at the moment.

I had a hard time feeling out Ehrenreich's point in this book. It felt unfocused and confused, and I think that's partly because simply stating that positive thinking is bad is not a very defensible position. I was left unconvinced about both how much influence "positive thinking" wields over our society, as well as what the actual detrimental effects of "positive thinking" are.

Redux #36 - "The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher" by Kate Summerscale

2010-10-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

A true-life crime story mixed in with some historical perspective and a woman author to boot was all I needed to make me pick up The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher (2008) by Kate Summerscale. I didn't really know what to expect and now that I've finished it I've come out with some mixed feelings. On the one hand, the story is fascinating, and there are so many different elements, from mystery, to women's and class issues, to family dynamics, that bring a lot to this book. Unfortunately, I was frustrated throughout a lot of the book because Summerscale didn't focus on what I was most interested in.

Kate Summerscale tells the true, historical tale of a grisly murder that took place in 1860 in a country home in England. An innocent child was taken from his bed one night and found murdered the next morning. The house had been locked up and was secure, leaving the family and servants as the primary suspects. After a lot of initial confusion, and because of the intense public interest in the case, Detective Whicher from Scotland Yard was sent out to investigate the murder.

There were many fascinating aspects of this story from the history of the newly formed detectives unit, the people's perception and fascination of detectives, class and social issues within the context of the murder, the details of how murder investigations and trials took place, and the natural mystery of the story. I could not help but compare this story to that of the similarly sensationalized murder story in my own hometown of Jon Benet Ramsey. Both involved children murdered at night, both involved a wealthy family that invited ridicule and jealousy, and both involved suspicion of virtually every family member in the house. It was also interesting to see the difference between the treatment of the servants and the family. The female servants were almost immediately strip-searched while the daughters of the family were passed over. Finally, seeing justice try to unfold as the magistrates brought suspects before them, accusing them of murder, but with none of the evidence and knowledge that we have to help us today, was eye-opening.

I did, however, have some problems with the book. Summerscale went into a lot of detail about when "the detective" was first seen in literature, and what was written about them. Although she posited that some of the writers were basing their detectives on Whicher, their descriptions felt out of place and added more confusion than substance to the story. I was also very interested in the family's thoughts and perceptions, of which there were none in the book. I realize that Summerscale was writing a story about something that happened over one hundred years ago, and there is a limit to what information is out there, but the entire book felt that it was lacking in emotional detail. I wouldn't even have minded if Summerscale had made some educated guesses about what the family might have been doing and thinking--just something so I could be reminded that these were real, thinking people.

On the whole, I think Summerscale found a fascinating story, and it appears that she tried really hard to only discuss the facts and things she learned in her research, keeping her opinions and voice out of the narrative. However, the book would have been much more interesting if I knew her perspective. As long as she's clear about what is known and what is her opinion, it would have helped personalize the story. I was even frustrated at the end when she apparently proffered some evidence that maybe someone else might have been involved--but she wouldn't go out and just say what she thinks about it, instead leaving me to wonder what actually happened.

Redux #35 - "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath

2010-10-23T09:14:00.000-07:00

I've never been this far behind in writing about the books I've read. I was tempted to give up writing about my reading altogether, but I realized that I like having this mini-diary of my readings and impressions. I don't want to lose that out of simple laziness. My plan is to catch up this weekend and then never let myself get behind again. I'm a little worried the reviews will suffer from this long passage of time, but I guess something is better than nothing, even if I can't even remember the characters' names anymore.

Anyway, I picked up The Bell Jar (1963) by Sylvia Plath, both because I've been looking for more women authors to read, and because I had seen it on the "Classics" shelf at the library. I half expected some tedious, old-fashioned and unrelatable story that I would have to push through, but I got much more than I expected.

The Bell Jar follows Esther Greenwood for a short time in her young life. Esther is a talented academic attending Smith College. She spends the summer in New York after winning a prestigious internship with a magazine. Esther is at that place in her life where she is becoming an adult, where her choices will start forming the rest of her life, and she can't figure out what she wants. Eventually she falls into depression and attempts suicide, prompting several rounds of treatment.

"Wherever I sat - on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok - I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air." (Ch. 15)

I found Esther Greenwood to be a disturbingly relatable character. We had so many things in common it was eerie. We're both 5'10'' with thin, boyish figures who love to eat and are pretty cheap when it comes to spending money. My favorite part of the book was the summer that Esther spent in New York. I understood exactly what she was feeling, and I was shocked and impressed by the brutal honesty that Plath described Esther's more negative thoughts and actions. I couldn't relate as much to Esther Greenwood when she fell into depression, but the writing continued to be beautiful, honest, and descriptive, and it was definitely worth reading.

One of the major themes that appears to wind itself through The Bell Jar is the idea of feminism displayed through Esther's lack of power and choices in her world. She always thought her life would be extraordinary, but stepping out into the real world shows her how limited her life might end up being. She wants to be a great writer, but doesn't want to be an ugly, old hermit of an intellectual. But Esther is also terrified that getting married will be the end of her creativity and intellectual life. Her ideas of what a woman should be have been formed by society, but at the same time she wants something more.

"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet." (Ch. 7)

Anyway, I was so impressed and felt like I had so much in common with Sylvia Plath, that I am now interested in reading her journals. The only problem is that I think I read somewhere that Plath wrote those journals for herself and never intended them to be published. I find it kind of stalkerish and creepy to snoop around in someone's private diary, even if she was famous and is now dead; but most likely my curiosity will get the better of my reluctance.

Redux #34 - "Princess Academy" by Shannon Hale

2010-09-03T21:39:00.000-07:00

I'm a sucker for well-written children's books, so when I happened upon Princess Academy (2005) by Shannon Hale with it's shiny Newberry Honor Award on the cover, I decided it was worth reading. And I enjoyed reading it; I was never bored, I liked the story, and there were good lessons to be learned for young girls. However, as much as I liked the story, I never truly lost myself in the book. I was always aware that I was just reading a story. There have been some children's novels that have just drawn me in--like The Book Thief and the Harry Potter series, or been multi-layered like Neil Gaiman's writing, and this one wasn't quite on that level. However, it's worth reading, and I would especially recommend it for young girls.

Miri is a young teenager living high up on the slopes of Mt. Eskel in an extremely isolated town filled with the strong, hardy miners of a valuable stone called linder. Looked down upon or forgotten by the rest of the country, Miri and her town know almost nothing about the outside world. But when the priests declare that the next princess will come from Mt. Eskel, an academy is set up and all of the girls in the village of a certain age are brought to the "princess academy" to learn and train for one year until the prince comes up to make his choice of bride. With the dynamics between the girls sometimes similar to that of the women on "The Bachelor," Miri learns to read, learns about her country, and both yearns for and wants to reject the prince and the possible life she could have.

There are many good lessons in this book about friendship, loyalty, love, and finding your way in life. It is also something of a feminist book where the girls in the school make a difference in the life of their town as well as themselves. I think the only thing that kept me from loving it, is that it seemed too simple. There weren't too many layers. Miri is sad because she is small and thinks of herself as weak, but she really isn't. The teacher is mean, but really she's just unhappy. So, although I enjoyed reading it, it isn't one that will haunt my thoughts.

Redux #33 - "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again" by David Foster Wallace

2010-08-28T23:03:00.000-07:00

I just can't decide whether I would have gotten along with David Foster Wallace or been annoyed with him, if I had known him in real life. A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never do Again (1997) is my second foray into Wallace's writing, since I read Consider the Lobsters sometime last year. And I had a similar reaction to this latest one I read. I loved some parts and some of the essays, but others were a struggle to finish. Since DFW taught at my alma mater, I already have a predilection for him; and when he hits on a topic that I even have a vague interest in (for instance, tennis, which I've never played and I barely know the players or the rules), his honesty, way with words, unique point of view, and attention to detail are mesmerizing. On the other hand, Wallace can come across as a phenomenal snob, and sometimes I can't help but wonder if he's just throwing in large words, name-dropping authors I've never heard of, and using cutesy and unnecessary abbreviations just to show off his great intellect and creativity.*

I most enjoy reading DFW's work when he simply goes somewhere and does something and describes his perceptions and experiences. I really enjoyed reading about the State Fair, the tennis tournament, and the cruise ship experience. I also enjoyed his essay on David Lynch, although I was somewhat hindered by having only seen David Lynch's Mulholland Drive. I would have loved to have DFW explain that movie to me, but alas, it hadn't come out yet and he instead went into detail on a bunch of movies I hadn't seen. Yet even with this lack of knowledge I found DFW's personal fascination with Lynch, his perceptions of a movie set, and his interpretations of Lynch's work engrossing.

Unfortunately, this was not the case for his essay about television and fiction. I think the main problem is that half of what he was talking about was way over my head. Every author and movement he dropped into the book I had never heard of, and DFW did not explain any of them, which made it very difficult and tedious to try to follow his argument. It was also very dated; that particular essay was written in 1993, seventeen years ago. Even most of the commercials and some of the television shows he mentioned I was not familiar with, although I wished that he was still around to comment on all of the reality shows we have now. On the small sections that I could understand, I would still get caught up in it, but my main memory of that essay was of a painful struggle. Also, there was another essay about "the death of the author" or something, which was short and more understandable but one where my main feeling while reading was frustration. I'm a very concrete thinker, so I find obscure philosophical questions that don't have much grounding in reality very annoying.

I think what is so enticing about David Foster Wallace is that he just puts himself out there on the page, faults and all. He'll tell people that he had to psyche himself up to go to the single's bar on the ship, that he thought he was almost as good a tennis player as the pros--until he saw them play, that he's terrified of amusement park rides, and that he's a snob and an asshole. His honesty is not only entertaining but you feel closer to him when he opens up his life, and it makes him more relatable. But at the same time, David Foster Wallace, is wickedly smart, and writes these amazing, eye-opening things about mundane matters, and the combination is rather irresistible.

*As an homage to DFW, I will throw in a couple footnotes as well. During the description of his luxury cruise, David Foster Wallace was unfortunate enough to stumble upon one of my many pet peeves. Wallace mentioned at the end of his cruise, he grossly undertipped the sommelier and another waiter/helper type (I forget who) because he didn't like them; then he gave the head waiter, who had a masters degree in something, and who DFW did like, all the extra money. And this is after DFW repeatedly pointed out how weird it was to have the mostly third-world employees waiting on all the rich Americans, but then he goes and arbitrarily deprives two of them of their salary. It doesn't matter if you don't like them, tip them at least the minimum. I've been in plenty of situations where people started complaining about the service when it came time to determine the tip, but I've never actually been in a situation where the waiter didn't deserve one. In my opinion, it is [almost always] just an excuse to be a cheap bastard.**

**Surprisingly, I have never worked at a tip-based job, so I'm not sure where all this vehemence comes from.

Redux #32 - "EMT Prehospital Care" by Mark C. Henry and Edward R. Stapleton

2010-08-28T22:20:00.000-07:00

I always feel a little guilty when I throw these textbooks onto my reading blog, but they are real books and I read the entire thing; so I do think it counts, even though it's not the usual Cannonball fare that someone else would be interested in reading. EMT Prehospital Care, 4th Edition (2010) by Mark C. Henry and Edward R. Stapleton was my text book for my EMT-Basic (EMT standing for Emergency Medical Technician) class that I took this summer. These days 70-80% of firefighters' calls are medical rather than fire, and many districts won't even look at you as a firefighter until you have at least your EMT-Basic certification. Since I recently decided that what I want to do more than anything is be a firefighter, I took the class as soon as I could afford it.

I would feel ridiculous doing a review of my textbook on this blog. Suffice it to say, I learned a lot and there were many gory photographs. I definitely feel that I would now be better off in an emergency situation, although I do feel that besides CPR, a lot of what I learned is dependent upon having the right equipment, so I still wonder how helpful I could be if, for instance, someone collapsed at work.

It's probably more interesting if I discuss my experiences in the class as a whole rather than go into detail about the book. I loved the practical, hands-on aspect of the class, and it made me more sure than ever that I am making the right decision. Although there are times when I find the law or case I'm working on interesting, most of the time it is a chore to push myself through whatever I should be doing. However, this is not the case with firefighting and the EMT information; if anything I am more interested than ever.

The EMT-Basic class exposed me to a lot of paramedics and firefighters who were our teachers. I also had one eight-hour shift in the Emergency Room and three ten-hour shifts on an ambulance. I thought the ER was very interesting, but I really enjoyed the ambulance rides the most. It is so cool to ride with sirens on and the traffic clearing the way in front of you (at least most of the time). I also liked the variability of the ambulance rides. You never know where you're going next or who you're going to meet.

I did have some traumatic experiences on my first ambulance ride, however. I think the paramedic I was riding with had some major anger issues because he was yelling and then twisting the arm of one drunk/high man who had fallen down some stairs and was being somewhat uncooperative--to me, it seemed very unnecessary and disturbing, and I felt guilty for days that I even watched this happen. It's hard, though, because these are paramedics in the middle of a big city who deal with dangerous drunks day in and day out. But later that night, the same guy got really angry and yelled at some poor father whose son had fallen and hit his head. I thought the father was being perfectly nice and reasonable, and I couldn't understand why my paramedic, my teacher, was being so volatile. It made me very uncomfortable because I was definitely in no position to challenge him. That experience actually sucked all the fun out of my EMT class for awhile. I didn't want to be a part of a group that was full of bullies, and for the first time I thought about the scary amount of power paramedics hold over their patients in the field. I felt better after I talked the whole night over with a friend of mine and told the coordinator. Fortunately, my next two ambulance rides were with some very nice paramedics and I didn't have that problem again.

One other worry that came up once I started having more communication with the fire department is that some/many male firefighters do not want to work with women firefighters. It's weird that firefighters are behind almost every other profession when it comes to accommodating women, even the military. I think the combination of the physical requirements and the living arrangements stalled equality in that area for awhile. The tradition of firemen is big, burly and full of testosterone; I can see how having a woman on their truck would kind of ruin that image. Different fire departments, and even different fire stations within departments vary pretty drastically when it comes to accepting women, but it's weird that it never really occurred to me that I might have to stand up for my civil rights in this day and age. Of course, going hand in hand with that is the fact that I want and need to be as strong as I possibly can. If I'm weak or wussy, it will just confirm the negative people's views that women shouldn't be firefighters, and my actions will probably reflect on all the women that come after me. I feel that I can only defend my right to be a firefighter if I can really keep up, and I am already feeling the pressure. Anyway, the class and the book were both worth it, even though they mean that I'm probably not going to be successful in the Cannonball Read this year. I'm okay with that, though; sometimes more important things come up.

Redux #31 - "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett

2010-08-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

It's been so long since I've written a review or even been back to this blog that I forgot how to get to a new post. My EMT class ended about a week ago and even though I'm focused more than ever on learning Spanish, I find that I also finally have some free time. The Help (2009) by Kathryn Stockett was one of the only books I was able to read and finish this summer. It's a big bestseller and I'd heard about it from a number of people, so I put it on the waiting list at the library and waited for it to come in. And although I may have been a little disappointed in the end, in comparison to how quickly I was sucked into the story in the beginning, on the whole I thought it was an interesting and fast read.

The Help is a look at Jacksonville, Mississippi at the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, specifically at a small number of young, white women in Jacksonville and their maids. The perspective of the story shifts among three women: Skeeter (a/k/a Eugenia Phelan) is an aspiring writer and living at home with her parents after graduating from college; Aibileen is a fifty-something maid to one of Skeeter's friends in Jacksonville, and Minny is a hot-headed maid that ends up working for the town's social outcast. The different perspectives do a pretty good job of showing the two drastically different worlds and attitudes in Jacksonville at that time.

However, there were a number of problems with this book, and after browsing the negative book reviews at Amazon. com, I have to agree with some of the criticism. First, there were complaints that the dialogue of the maids was sloppy and often incorrect; also that it was unrealistic to have the maids speak with a strong "southern maid" dialect, but not have any accent for the white women. For my part, I did find the accents a little jarring at the beginning, but I quickly got used to them and didn't pay them much attention. I also have so little knowledge of southern accents and what is authentic and what isn't, that I didn't think much about them at all as I read.

Another complaint was that the characters were simply caricatures. Stockett used one strong, loyal maid (Aibileen) and one sassy, good-cook maid (Minny). It's safe to say that the characters of the maids could have been more developed, but on the other hand, I think it's commendable that Stockett wrote from Minny and Aibileen's perspective. And she succeeded much better than a lot of Hollywood movies I've seen (for example, The Blind Side), especially when Skeeter and Aibileen start working together, so it's better than nothing. I guess it depends on what level of writing and characterization you're looking for and expecting. I appreciated that Hilly, the clear cut villain of the story, loved her children, and that Skeeter, the main heroine, was not perfect, but there could have been improvements here.

One thing that bothered me as the book went on was that I couldn't really understand the characters' motivations or believe some of the storylines. ***SPOILER*** What had me wondering the most was a major part of the ending of the book. The maids are terrified of the reprisal they'll face when the book is published if people figure out that it's about Jacksonville. So, in order to protect them, Minny decides to include a story of how she put shit (I thought it was her own, but I'm not sure) in one of her chocolate pies and then proceeded to feed two giant slices to Miss Hilly. So, Hilly is a power-hungry, extreme racist, who could have Minny killed or at the very least jailed for something like that, but apparently she's too embarrassed to tell anyone. And then when the book comes out, Hilly is too intent on hiding the fact that she's in the story about eating poo, so then the maids are somehow protected. I didn't understand the motivations there at all. I also wondered why Hilly couldn't taste it, if there were any significant amount of shit in that cake. Finally, I know that Minny was hot-headed, but for a long time Minny was way too afraid to even talk to Skeeter. Minny's not stupid and she knows the consequences of her actions, yet she can give the most powerful woman in Jacksonville shit and then brag about it to her? That was hard for me to believe. Also, I never understood the storyline with Skeeter's mother or why it was even in the book.

I do think that Stockett did a good job in showing the atmosphere of the time. I've never really been to the south, but I've read and learned a fair bit about Slavery in the South and I'm obviously aware of the Jim Crow era and the Civil Rights Movement. However, I was still struck by the blatant and loud hypocrisy of the women like Hilly. What struck me most however, was reading about the fear the maids and others felt when and if they tried to go against the norm. I have read about freedom riders being killed and people being attacked, but I guess it never occurred to me that it would be difficult for Skeeter to talk to a black woman if she wanted to, or the very real, myriad dangers that the maids faced just for talking about what their lives were like. I do think Stockett did a good job with this aspect of her story; there were times when I was reading that I was genuinely creeped out by the sense of danger I felt. And although I was disappointed in some aspects, especially all the wrapping up at the end, I'm glad I read it.

Redux #30 - "Interpreter of Maladies" by Jhumpa Lahiri

2010-06-12T20:55:00.000-07:00

It has been an awfully long time since I last finished a book. Interpreter of Maladies (1999) by Jhumpa Lahiri has taken me weeks and weeks to finish, even though it's a pretty quick read. I am enjoying my new EMT-Basic class very much, but between working full-time and trying to keep up with that class, I'm barely finding enough time to sleep and work out, so unfortunately reading for pleasure has fallen by the wayside.

I've seen The Namesake--the movie--based on the novel by Jhumpa Lahiri. I've also read Lahiri's other book of short stories, Unaccustomed Earth, which I enjoyed so much I knew I'd have to read Interpreter of Maladies as well. Interpreter of Maladies consists of nine short stories, all of them dealing with the intersection between American and Indian lives and culture.

I often have trouble connecting with the storyline or characters in short stories because there's not enough time to really get to know and empathize with the characters before the story ends. I do not have that problem with Jhumpa Lahiri's works. I don't know how she does it, but she is an amazing writer. I start reading, and I understand and feel strongly for her characters almost immediately. This might sound weird, but the power of her writing reminds me of Cormac McCarthy. She writes clear, concise sentences with no melodrama, yet I find myself so emotionally drawn in that these stories instill their melancholies and sadness inside me before I even realize what's happening. Cormac McCarthy often has the same effect on me, although the content of his stories are drastically different, taking place in worlds of violence that I will never know. Lahiri, on the other hand, keeps to more quiet, intimate stories of relationships and family tragedies that we can all relate to. Her themes of isolation, displacement, and loneliness are strong and weave through each of her stories.

I still have a lot of reading to do for class, so I need to keep this short, but I also feel like there isn't much more to say. Jhumpa Lahiri is an amazing and affecting writer. I look forward to reading the next book she publishes.

I have remained in this new world for nearly thirty years. I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination. (198)

Redux #29 - "The Secret Adversary" by Agatha Christie

2010-05-17T19:42:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to wonder if I'll be able to successfully finish this year's reading challenge. I just keep piling on more and more things and my available time for reading keeps shrinking and shrinking. First I was lost, drifting, and unemployed, reading books left and right. But then I started working full-time. I also decided to learn Spanish, to help me in my quest of becoming a firefighter. And now I've just signed up for an EMT class for the summer. It starts tomorrow and is on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursday from 6-10pm. After commuting home that leaves me no time for anything and very little sleep as well. I also have to fit working out in there somewhere--sadly but definitely a higher priority than reading. But at least I've got the weekends free. So I'm guessing my output may start to diminish even more, although I will keep reading whenever I get the chance.

"To all those who lead monotonous lives in the hope that they may experience at second hand the delights and dangers of adventure."

Agatha Christie is pretty famous. I remember seeing shelves full of her books at the library when I was a kid. I feel like I've always been aware of her books, but I've never gotten around to reading them. Because I've recently been looking specifically for books written by women, I decided it was finally time to read some Agatha Christie. So, I picked up The Secret Adversary (1922) for my first exploration into Christie on the advice of some Pajiba commenters. I was half expecting something old-fashioned and perhaps a little slow, but I was pleasantly surprised by a good mystery, fast-paced plotting, and fun dialogue.

The protagonists in The Secret Adversary are two young people (early 20's?), Thomas Beresford and Prudence Cowley--who goes by Tuppence. They are old childhood friends who get together in London after World War I. Both are poor and jobless, and they decide to start a business venture. One thing leads to another and they are suddenly on the trail of a missing, young woman named Jane Finn who may know where some very important papers are. They are foiled at every turn by a mysterious Mr. Brown who often seems omniscient and incredibly powerful. However, after joining up with Jane Finn's cousin, finding a number of other allies, and risking their lives a number of times, they solve the mystery, save the country, and every one ends up happily ever after--except for the bad guys.

There was something decidedly unrealistic and theatrical about this book. The coincidences are extreme, the characters find information at exactly the right moment, somehow survive situations where they would end up dead in the real world, and enjoy an unbelievable amount of good luck. However, none of this lack of realism really hurt the novel. It's fun and adventurous, the main characters are interesting and likable, the plot moves steadily along, and the dialogue--especially between Thomas and Tuppence--is quick and entertaining. I guessed pretty early on in the novel the crux of the mystery, but I was never sure and continued to second-guess myself until the end. Something of a light, entertaining read, but all in all an enjoyable one, and I'm sure I'll be reading more of Agatha Christie's books in the future.

Redux #28 - "Things That Make Us [sic]" by Martha Brockenbrough

2010-05-08T20:08:00.001-07:00

I'm finally finished, but it took me a ridiculously long time to read Things That Make Us [sic] (2008) by Martha Brockenbrough. The main reason for my drastic slow-down is that I'm back working full-time again. I'm also commuting to downtown Denver and back, so my free time has drastically diminished, and it's been a rather painful transition. I'm doing lawyerly-type contract work at the moment, which is a little tedious, but they get catered lunch for the entire firm and buy me a bus pass, so I'm content enough for now. My ultimate goal is still to become a firefighter, so I if I can somehow get into a summer EMT class, I'll really have no time left to read. (I also need to learn Spanish somewhere in there as well). The other reason this book took forever to read is that I didn't really like it. I wonder if I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't already read at least three grammar books, or if I didn't feel so busy and distracted while starting a new job. I do know that I would recommend Grammar Girl's Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing before Things That Make Us [sic].

I can imagine people with the same sense of humor, or people who just get Martha Brockenbrough could really enjoy this book. It didn't work for me. Too much of the book was trying to be clever, and there weren't enough explanations that clearly explain grammar rules and good writing. I didn't need to read tons of witty letters to celebrities, picked on for their poor speaking and writing. I also had no interest in reading blog or tweeter posts from Paris Hilton or Courtney Love. Their writing is atrocious; reading it--even corrected--is much more painful than helpful. Brockenbrough also made a number of political comments, mostly against Bush. Of course, I completely agreed with her sentiment, but they seemed out of place in a grammar book. Add to that the fact that Bush is too easy of a target and he's really not even pertinent anymore, and her mentions of Bush veered towards the annoying. Having no extra time these days and always being exhausted by my adjustment to a normal work schedule, I had no patience for people and pop culture that I have no interest in.

I have no doubt that Brockenbrough thoroughly understands her subject matter, and I did learn some things, but I did not find her to be a clear writer or teacher. Many of the rules she discusses I wouldn't have understood if I hadn't already learned them somewhere else. Instead of clear examples and explanations, there are lists of words that I'm never going to remember and facetious letters to famous people that come across as somewhat obnoxious. Although this book wasn't horrible and those with a similar sense of humor to Brockenbrough might love it, I was glad when I finally finished it.

Redux #27 - "Spook" by Mary Roach

2010-04-20T15:21:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed Stiff and Bonk by Mary Roach, so I knew I would be getting around to reading Spook (2005) at some point. I waited awhile before reading Spook because I don't have much interest in ghosts. Apparently, the way my brain is wired excludes belief in such things as spirits, ghosts, and religion. I hear all these far-fetched stories from all over the world and they are nothing more than ridiculous to me. I don't pretend to know what happens to us when we die, or that I understand the complexities of the universe, but I'd rather have no explanation than believe in a fairy tale. As reassuring as it would be to believe that there's something even better after this life, my current assumption is that we simply cease to be. I could be convinced otherwise, but I'm not sure what that would take.

And this was my problem with Spook, my least favorite by far of all of Roach's books. Roach's writing style didn't change much, so my dislike stems almost entirely from the subject matter. My lack of interest and patience in discussing ghosts led to a lot of the frustration and annoyance I felt while reading Spook. I first thought that Roach would be a good companion in discussing ghost stories since she's such a fan of science, but I think I'm even more of a skeptic than her--or at least her book would have been too short if she really let her skepticism go. I would have been more interested in a debunking book.

I think another aspect of the frustration I felt is that I knew it wasn't leading to anything. Roach discusses some anecdotal history of scientists, spiritualists, and psychics looking for the soul, looking for ghosts, and talking with the dead. There were some interesting historical stories, but there wasn't enough depth to any of them to really grab my interest. At the same time, even as the current stories were often more compelling, we still don't have any idea what happens to us when we die and we're not going to find out. At least with Stiff and Bonk I learned some interesting stuff about sex and death. But with Spook, I already knew all those experiments led to nothing, and we still have no idea what happens to us when we die. But I'm not to saying there wasn't anything interesting in this book. I enjoyed the chapters on the sound waves and the experiment with the computer and near-death experiences, but on the whole I was disappointed.

Instead of glossing over a bunch of anecdotal stories, I would have preferred that Roach delve a little deeper, especially with the topic of the afterlife. (My pet peeve in this book quickly became Roach's lists of what she found when she googled a name or word.) I would have been really interested in knowing if there are significant psychological differences between people who believe in ghosts/afterlife/etc. and those who don't. I saw a study on identical twins, and they are almost always also identical in whether they are religious or not--even when raised apart. I also wonder about how this "soul" works. What is our soul? What about those who have Alzheimer's, dimentia, or head injuries and who have basically already lost their personalities, or what we might consider an important part of their souls. Do they go into the afterlife with the soul they died with (in which case suicide at a younger, healthier age might be a good idea, especially if the afterlife is eternal) or do you get to choose the age and condition of your soul in the afterlife?

Spook wasn't my favorite book. It wasn't entertaining or educational enough for me to really enjoy, but I still like Roach and hope that she picks a really interesting topic for her next book.

Redux #26 - "The Blind Assassin" by Margaret Atwood

2010-04-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

I'd been thinking about reading something by Margaret Atwood for awhile, probably The Handmaid's Tale, when the Pajiba/Cannonball Read Book Club announced that their next book was The Blind Assassin (2000). I had never heard of it and had no idea what it was about (probably because I was in the very insulated and self-absorbed bubble of college in 2000), but I was happy that I'd have some companions and insight for my first foray into Atwood.

Iris Chase is an old woman, looking back on her life and the death of her sister, Laura, who drove a car off a bridge right after World War II in 1945. The book skips between Iris's memories and "The Blind Assassin," the novel authored by Laura Chase and published after her death. It is assumed that the events in the novel are based on real life, but the reader (of Atwood's book) doesn't know exactly how the story of "The Blind Assassin" and Iris Chase's reality relate. At times the storytelling reminded me of Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, primarily because you have a narrator looking back and giving a detailed account of his life and family. I have to admit that although I did like The Blind Assassin, I still prefer Middlesex (it was one of my favorites last year). Atwood sets up the story like a mystery, and most of the time I was reading because I needed to find out what happened to them. But she kept teasing and stalling and I sometimes felt a little manipulated.

***PROBABLE SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT***
However, there was a lot to like about The Blind Assassin. Just the interplay between the many different stories and levels of reality is impressive. Not only did Atwood come up with the storyline of her characters, but then she wrote a novel with those characters as characters, as well as a number of science-fiction stories within that. One memorable scene for me was during "The Blind Assassin" when the characters take turns putting their ending on the science-fiction version of 'The Blind Assassin' (this is already getting complicated). Iris's character tries to turn the story towards a happy ending--something she would like to find someday. But Alex Thomas quickly changes it back to something more "realistic." The theme of storytelling and the power of the storyteller is woven throughout the story. I'd be interested in reading just the inner novel of "The Blind Assassin" to see if it holds up as a story by itself. It's hard to imagine it without knowing the (more) real lives on which it was based.

I also noticed a fair bit of misogyny seeping throughout the novel. Having heard that Atwood is a feminist, I can only assume this was very deliberate. The attitudes of Iris's father, school tutor, and especially husband, created a world where she was thought less of than a child. She wasn't told things (for her protection, of course), she couldn't make any decisions, and she had almost no freedom. It was so suffocating and so depressing that it was hard to even read. And that's not even taking into account what Richard did to Laura! Yet in some ways Laura was strong enough to break away while Iris couldn't until after Laura was gone.

Even Iris and Laura's love, Alex Thomas, was constantly hating on women. He called her a "cunt on stilts" when he saw her walking on heels across the park. He labeled his female characters BB for "big breasts" or "bird-brained" (if I remember correctly). And their relationship was one filled with hurt and jealousies. I often felt like they were fighting for power. Iris had to pull anything nice out of him, and he was often rather mean to her--but perhaps driven by frustration of the whole situation? Iris, for her part, would often stay away from him for weeks at a time. I'm curious whether people think about their relationship. I do think they both really loved each other, although they are certainly not a blueprint for a healthy and happy couple. Was there any meaning to the fact that Alex Thomas edited out the entire story of the couple in his version of the story that got published? That story had so much meaning to Iris that she looked for it everywhere on the magazine stands. Did it mean anything to Alex? Is that why he cut that part of the story? Or was he just again being the more realistic one, realizing that those two people were insignificant in the whole of the story. Alex Thomas also apparently came back from Spain before going off to fight in World War II, but he never got in contact with Iris again. I wish I knew more what he was thinking.

I liked this book and I'm glad I read it. I have to admit, I was a little frustrated at times, wanting Atwood to stop drifting around and to get on with the story. For example, I was dying to know what had happened to Laura at the mental hospital. Iris finally goes to visit Reemie, but she doesn't get any information! Reemie says she doesn't want to mention it in front of her daughter and Iris just leaves! That was very annoying and, I think, unrealistic. I was wondering just one more thing, though. Alex Thomas writes a list of obscure words in a notebook when he's hiding in the attic at Avilion, and those words come up again at the end of the book. So, is there any meaning or significance to this or why did Atwood put it in the story?

Redux #25 - "Show No Fear" by Marliss Melton

2010-04-04T14:23:00.000-07:00

What I have been dreading most about this review is posting a picture of the cover of this book. It's just plain embarrassing. Really, publishers? Can't you go for a slightly more subtle picture? I would like to think that I am independent enough to not care what other people think, but there was no way in hell I was going outside with this book. Embarrassment aside, I have read all of Marliss Melton's books and found her entertaining enough to pick up her latest book, Show No Fear (2009). I enjoy some escapist romance now and then and Marliss Melton is/was one of my go-to authors that I've always enjoyed.

I know what I'm getting when I pick these books up. If I'm not in the right mood, I can find them rather annoying and tedious, but if there's an interesting plot and good chemistry, I suck them up awfully quickly. But I've wondered recently if I've been growing out of them. I've read so much good literature lately that these fluffy books can pale in comparison. This is not my goal; I quite enjoy my cheap, thrilling romantic adventure books, and I'd miss it if I could only enjoy literature depicting realistic, sometimes monotonous, sometimes heart-wrenching relationships. Needless to say, there is less awesome sex and fewer happy endings in realistic drama.

Unfortunately, Show No Fear and Marliss Melton were a disappointment, and I don't think this is because I suddenly turned into a literature snob. My hypothesis is that Melton, bored of writing about Navy Seals and out of ideas, slacked off on her latest and wrote a much less interesting book. Another option is that she paid someone else to write it for her. If her name wasn't printed all over the cover, I would have assumed it was a different, less talented author. Melton usually includes a subplot with another love interest, which was missing here, and the writing was sometimes distractingly bad.

Lucy Donovan and Gus Atwater are part of the CIA and Navy Seals respectively and going undercover to Colombia as part of a small U.N. group to negotiate for two American hostages in the jungle. Lucy is used to taking chances and working alone. Although she is getting over some PTSD from her last assignment, she kind of resents Gus's presence--when she doesn't lean on him for support. Really, her character didn't make much sense. Gus, who just happens to be Lucy's college sweetheart (Lucy broke up with him after a traumatic suicide bombing in Spain?) still loves Lucy and is only concerned with keeping her safe.

Lucy and Gus are posing as native Spanish speakers in the U.N. team because Americans can't be involved. This is possible because Lucy studied abroad in Spain and Gus took an intensive language course. As someone who lived in Germany during college and is learning Spanish right now, I think it's fair to say they would not pass as native Spanish speakers. Proficient is one thing, fluent is another, and passing as native is quite another. Then Lucy and Gus prove themselves to be the worst CIA agents in the history of the world, discussing their mission on the public airplane and breaking into English intermittently throughout their stay in the jungle. The group finds itself stuck in some far-away camp with the guerrillas, where they wait around for something to happen. The mission to free the hostages would have gone much more smoothly if Lucy and Gus had just not been there. Of course, Lucy and Gus fall (back) in love and get it on while they're out in the jungle, but I'm looking for a fantasy love story. Hooking up with your ex-boyfriend from college with no privacy after you haven't showered for awhile and you have an irritating, infected cut on your hip is not appealing in any way.

And the last thing that bothered me is that Gus is a cold-blooded killer. Gus has to find and save Lucy in the end because--of course. His superiors want the Seals to pull out because they're not even supposed to be gallivanting about in Colombia, but Gus won't leave Lucy in the jungle. In order to find her location, the Seals intercept some of the runners (the soldiers who bring messages from camp to camp) and interrogate them. And then they kill them because they don't want anyone to find out the Americans are hanging out in the Colombian jungle. Melton had even already made the point that many of the young soldiers are forced into conscription, but then she doesn't have any problem having her hero murder these young men in cold blood? Eerily similar in a bad way to the many "disappeared" from Pinochet's regime. Maybe the sequel can be Gus Atwater's trial for murder.

Redux #24 - "The Jane Austen Book Club" by Karen Joy Fowler

2010-04-02T00:24:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm going to try to make this one fast. It's already past one a.m. and I have to wake up early tomorrow to help a friend of mine move. The book: The Jane Austen Book Club (2004) by Karen Joy Fowler. Now this one I picked up despite my general dislike of the gimmick of using a classic novel or famous author to sell your own inferior product. I once read some kind of "sequel" to Pride and Prejudice, entitled "Mr. Darcy..." something or other, and it was horrible. I wasn't expecting much but whoever that author was took all my favorite characters from Pride and Prejudice and stuck them in some appalling, 19th century, romance-novelized version of the Jerry Springer show. I did not finish that book.

Fortunately, The Jane Austen Book Club did not take the same route--although, on the whole, I was still not very impressed. At the beginning of the novel, Jocelyn, the single, independent, type-A leader forms a book club where the six members will talk about each of Jane Austen's six books--one per month. Bernadette, an older, talkative woman who does not care about how she dresses anymore is one of the members. As is Prudie, the somewhat "prudish" French teacher. Two other members are Jocelyn's best friend Sylvia, who is struggling because her husband just left her after 31 years of marriage, and Sylvia's daughter Allegra, the temperamental lesbian artist. Grigg is the only man, the youngest of three older sisters, and a fan of science-fiction. As the story continues, the characters talk about the Jane Austen novels. The discussions are accompanied by flashbacks and insights into each book club member's life.

And that's about it. The discussion on the Austen books was not deep enough to be very interesting. This was also the problem I had with the characters. Although some of the flashbacks might have been interesting on their own, perhaps as a short story, I never got enough information to know or care about the characters before Fowler moved on to the next one. The descriptions of the characters in the paragraph above pretty much sums up everything I found out about them; they were shallow and unreal. It felt like a book version of Love Actually, jumping around from story to story, hoping that the reader might relate to at least one of them.

I also had a problem with the narration. I couldn't figure out who the narrator was supposed to be. I think the narrator was a voice for the collective women of the book club, but how can one voice speak for everyone in the club? I also found both the narrator and some of the characters annoying. I think I finally figured out that the narrator was trying to mimic Jane Austen's witty and often less than positive observations of the characters in her books, but it obviously wasn't as well done (it's hard to beat Austen on that) and just felt bitchy to me.

I got the impression that this book was trying to be feminist, or at least a "go woman" kind of book. After all, there's a lesbian, and there's a strong, single woman as a protagonist; and they're reading the books of Jane Austen. However, again, it didn't really work for me. It felt like the kind of feminism that only revels in the differences between men and women. The female book clubbers were all affronted that Grigg had not read Austen before joining the book club and took it upon themselves to "put him in his place" when he commented--especially because he was male. Why would you attack someone for those reasons? He's a science-fiction fan (another thing the women judged him for) who wanted to read Jane Austen. I think that's pretty cool. Some of the women deride yet another man later in the book for not reading Austen, and even though it annoys me when people dismiss Austen as "women's fiction," I couldn't get behind Fowler's characters here. I do have to admit, though, that I rather liked Grigg's story about his sisters. But then we have the moral: "We'd let Austen into our lives, and now we were all either married or dating." Really? Read Jane Austen and find a boyfriend/significant other? Is it that we'll see ourselves in her characters and understand ourselves better...and then um, jump into a relationship?

The Jane Austen Book Club was leaps and bounds ahead of that Mr. Darcy whatever book, but I was not very interested in the characters or the minimal plot and was disappointed by the lack of depth in the discussions on the Jane Austen novels. My favorite part of the book was actually in the very back where Fowler had compiled a large number of famous writers' comments on the works of Jane Austen. That was kind of fascinating.

Redux #23 - "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" by Muriel Barbery

2010-03-27T20:27:00.000-07:00

Most people can basically agree when a book is well-written, but when it comes to people's "favorite books" the meaning is much more personal. I had heard people gushing over The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, but I was disappointed when I finally read it. Although I appreciated the writing, it just didn't resonate with me. The Elegance of the Hedgehog (2006--translated from French in 2008) by Muriel Barbery was exactly the opposite. Well, not really the opposite, because not only did I appreciate the writing, but I loved this book. My favorite since I read The White Tiger last year, reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog was like finding a store of hidden treasure; I've waited years to find a book as entertaining, moving, and thought-provoking as this one. That being said, of course, I'm not sure that everyone would love this book. It might be for some like The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay was for me, but most people would at least appreciate the writing and originality.

I started reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog after I'd heard about it from a number of different sources, and I came into it with little knowledge and low expectations. I knew vaguely that it involved a grumpy concierge, a young girl, and lots of philosophy. Philosophy has never been a favorite topic of mine. Once questions get abstract I lose interest and get frustrated with the pointlessness of endless discussion over something without a real answer. Thus, I was thinking that I might have to slog through this one. But then, even on the very first page, it captured my attention. Renée Michel is the concierge in a posh building and her smart, scathing ruminations on her rich, rude employers sets the tone for the book. And when Paloma, the twelve-year-old girl who lives upstairs joins in with her own incredibly honest and funny observations of the lives around her, it just gets better. It's hard to even explain, but Barbery has this amazing talent of recreating simple, normal events in everyday life with an eye for the beauty, the absurd, and the real, that made this book unforgettable. There was some philosophy that had me grumbling once in awhile. I sincerely wondered why it was necessary to talk about some philosopher's idea of how we see objects in our world, but the philosophy is always in short bits and mixed together so well with the funny bits that it never felt like it was dragging.

And then I continued reading, and I got more and more involved with the characters. Paloma and Renée are sad characters in many ways, but because the story is told from their point of view and they don´t feel sorry for themselves, there is not much pathos. And then there were a couple of unexpected turns of events, and I found myself alternately crying and laughing at Barbery´s wonderful storytelling. And by the end of the book, most of it came together in a confluence of meaning and beauty. As I understood Renée´s life more, her philosophy, her attitude, and the things she focuses on made more sense. After finishing the novel, I decided I wouldn´t want Barbery to omit any of the philosophy because it was reading the whole that affected me so strongly. This is one of those books that I wish I had bought instead of borrowing from the library, and I probably will buy it soon just to read it again. I'm pretty sure I'd get even more out of a second reading.

"Dull repetition has come to tear me from my thoughts once again--boredom was born on a day of uniformity." (p. 163)

"Pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language." (p. 160)

"It is because they have never seen you...I would recognize you anywhere." (p. 303)

Redux #22 - "The Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling

2010-03-22T22:34:00.000-07:00

After reading The Graveyard Book, I decided to be thorough and read The Jungle Book (1894) by Rudyard Kipling as well. It is a classic after all, and Gaiman recommended reading it at the end of his book. My knowledge of The Jungle Book comes from seeing the Disney animated film when I was little. I've also seen the live-action version of The Jungle Book, and I remember enough of that one to still appreciate the man who played Mowgli--and his muscles. Anyway, The Jungle Book consists of seven different short stories with some short poems thrown in. Three of the short stories center around Mowgli, the boy raised by wolves. The stories include: "Mowgli's Brothers," "Kaa's Hunting," "'Tiger, Tiger,'" "The White Seal," "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi," "Toomai of the Elephants," and "Her Majesty's Servants."

On the whole, I liked the book. I love animals, and the stories were interesting. I'd have a hard time choosing a favorite between The Graveyard Book and The Jungle Book. I enjoyed the storytelling more in The Jungle Book. The characters and descriptions of the locations were described more vividly and with more detail, which I really appreciated. As I've said before, The Graveyard Book felt a little random to me. I felt that Gaiman intentionally left explanations out to keep us feeling unsure of his world, but I sometimes felt manipulated and frustrated.

The Jungle Book also supposedly has a moral in each of its stories. I noticed the continuous themes of courage, bravery, alienation, and learning from different cultures. However, I think I ended up disagreeing with much of what Kipling may have been trying to teach. SPOILERS Mowgli seemed rather arrogant in his dealings with the villagers. Sure, he grew up in the jungle and knew much more than them, but it still felt wrong...until the villagers threw him out. Then I felt sorry for him. My main concern during "The White Seal" was that the perfect island for the seals that the "sea cows" had been using was going to be overrun with the millions and millions of seals that the white seal was bringing over. I read in Wikipedia that "The White Seal" may have been about the burgeoning Zionist movement, so I guess if you look at it that way, the "sea cows" could be the Palestinians. But Kipling never mentions the effect the seals had on their new island or its other inhabitants. I admired the white seal's courage and determination, but I also didn't appreciate all the fighting the white seal used to get some of his compatriots to move to the new island. Is that what Kipling thought was necessary for Zionism?

I had similar problems with the other non-Mowgli stories. In "Toomai of the Elephants" all I wanted was for the elephants to go free, and I was very disappointed that they walked back to their captors after the dance. "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi" was another story I was already familiar with from childhood, but reading the story I was annoyed that Kipling made the cobras so evil (that they would murder all the inhabitants in a house. This is the kind of thing that makes people terrified of harmless little garter snakes.), and I felt sorry for the snakes at the same time. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi kills Nagaina's husband, murders all of her children, and then chases and kills her as she runs for her life, pleading for mercy. I didn't think the snakes were really any worse than the mongoose. Finally, I got the impression that Kipling was reinforcing and approving of the order of the English military in "Her Majesty's Servants." But I found the discussion between all the animals with no understanding of what they were doing or why they were fighting or how their actions made any difference just sad. For me, it brought out the pointlessness and wastefulness of war. Interesting stories, though, and they made me think. I think I want to read the second book of stories sometime soon, especially to hear more about Mowgli.

Redux #21 - "The Paleo Diet for Athletes" by Loren Cordain, PhD and Joe Friel, MS

2010-03-19T00:51:00.000-07:00

I'm definitely getting burned out on these nutrition books, but at this point it's become a kind of addiction. I've learned something interesting or helpful from every nutrition book I've read so far, and I'm afraid if I skip over one I'll miss that one thing that will finally make me understand what really is the best way to eat. The paleo diet is also big in the crossfit world; I figured the least I could do is see what everyone keeps talking about. So I picked up The Paleo Diet for Athletes (2005) by Loren Cordain, PhD and Joe Friel, MS.

The Paleo Diet had a number of things going against it from the get-go, which may or may not be fair. First, it's about the sixth or seventh nutrition book I've read. They all have some good points, but they are also all one-sided and contradictory. At this point, I know a lot about nutrition, and you have to be pretty damn specific and convincing when you contradict what other books and doctors have recommended. Also, my tolerance for one-sided nutrition advice has decreased exponentially with every nutrition book I've read. Secondly, I was a vegetarian for about ten years, and I'm still very amenable to a vegetarian diet, so the constant, "you must eat tons and tons of meat" in The Paleo Diet was a little grating and did not dispose me to accepting everything that was suggested. Finally, I read The Triathlete's Training Bible by the same Joe Friel back when I was thinking about doing triathlons, and I followed his exact advice when it came to strength training. However, I ended up with relatively weak hips, core, and shoulders. I was not well-rounded. My current workouts have made me much stronger and less susceptible to injury. I'm sure Friel is helpful to his very specific clientele of elite endurance runners and triathletes, but going into this book I had already found Friel's advice not the best for me.

I ended up underwhelmed by The Paleo Diet. Although there was a lot of information, and some of it was new and interesting to me, I finished confused and unconvinced why "The Paleo Diet" was the answer to all of our nutrition woes. One problem I had was that this book should really be titled, "The Paleo Diet for elite endurance athletes." Friel goes on and on about what exactly to eat after a 30 minute, 90 minute, 2 hour, and 4 hour long workout--going into excruciating details about exact numbers of carbs and what kind to have, depending on your weight and the intensity, as well as what to eat and drink every 10 minutes during a workout. A lot of it felt like a retreading of his Triathlete's Training Bible, and I got a little bored. I also realized that I am not anal enough for this book. Although I can certainly be compulsive, I was surprised to discover that I just don't care enough to count every single carb and glucose molecule that crosses my lips. I'd really rather eat real fruit than get slightly better performance from gels. However, I can see it appealing to the very serious triathlete. In fact, I sometimes felt the tone was a little condescending to anyone who is not a serious, elite athlete.

The first part of the book is based on the premise that "serious athletes" should not follow the paleo diet before, during, and after workouts and races because they need to refill their glycogen stores, which fuels their workouts. So sports gels, bars, protein powders, and sugary and starchy foods are good in those times (see the book for many more specifics). Finally, the second section of the book got to the paleo diet part. I was actually kind of excited about reading how our stone-age ancestors lived and ate. Unfortunately, most of the interest was sucked out by the use of dry statistics. They ate 25-40% fat, 40% protein and blah, blah, blah. There were some interesting points--that too much protein in a diet is toxic, so the hunter gatherers had to hunt big game because big game had more fat than skinny, little rabbits, and they needed the fat to offset all the protein they were eating. However, there were very few specifics about individual groups, which I would have found more interesting.

This review is already dragging on and on, so I'll sum up my problems. This diet feels very random to me: We are going to base our diet (and some rather drastic diet choices) on what we think men ate over ten thousand years ago, although their diets varied incredibly based on where and when they lived. None of the plants and roots they ate are around anymore or we wouldn't be able to digest them. Except for people who hunt game animals, the meat is considerably different (although I appreciate that the authors recommended grass-fed, free-range meat, and that they warned about the dangers of mercury and other chemicals in fish). No dairy products and no grains are allowed because cave men didn't have them. But canola oil is okay because the authors have decided it's healthy. And stuffing down the sports gels and power bars are okay when you're exercising because "elite" athletes work so much harder than the hunter/gatherers and need to replenish their glycogen storage. And beer is okay once in awhile because the authors are afraid that no one will adopt their diet if they say no alcohol. I kept thinking about the Tarahumara from Mexico that I read about in Born To Run. They are hunter/gatherers that live a primarily vegetarian diet with some small animals for meat, and they are amazing athletes who can run all day. Members of the Tarahumara won the Leadville 100, one of the most challenging endurance races in the country, at least twice. I don't see how the Tarahumara fit in with the authors' hypthesis. I also wondered why there is no allowance for how different people are and how they've evolved. Perhaps if you are related to the Tarahumara you are better at digesting some grains.

I agree that the paleo diet is likely healthier than "the typical American diet," but I was not convinced enough to be converted. I think I'll take a couple points from this book with me, but I won't be playing cave woman any time soon. I really thought this was going to be the last nutrition book for me, but then my brother brought over some book about eating for your blood type and my curiosity is now piqued. I really, really hope that will be the last one, though.

Redux #20 - "The Graveyard Book" by Neil Gaiman

2010-03-14T23:59:00.000-07:00

"It takes a graveyard to raise a child."

I picked up The Graveyard Book (2008) by Neil Gaiman because I wanted to actually participate in this month's Pajiba/Cannonball Book Club thingy (I forget its official name). My only experience with Gaiman's writing to date was Good Omens, which I enjoyed reading, so I wasn't averse to reading something else by him. I probably wouldn't have found The Graveyard Book by myself--besides being a children's novel, a boy growing up in a graveyard wouldn't have caught my attention. But I like to break out of my rut every now and then and I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else has to say. My simple assessment is that I liked the book, but it wasn't spectacular for me. I appreciated the creativity, but I had some trouble connecting with the characters, and if I don't care about the characters the book won't make as strong an impression on me.

Warning: spoilers will most likely be sprinkled throughout the rest of this review.

It's probably easiest for me if I just go chapter by chapter here, as some of them really worked for me and others didn't do so much. I really enjoyed chapters 1 and 2. The baby crawling into the graveyard with the killer chasing him was good and creepy, and Bod's isolation and loneliness was no more apparent than when his new friend, Scarlett, left him at the end of chapter 2. Also, the moral lesson of not giving into your fear was portrayed well with young, little Bod standing up to the Sleer. I also enjoyed chapter 4, The Witch's Headstone, where Bod is introduced to the unconsecrated portion of the graveyard and gets a headstone for the witch, Liza. There were some good lessons on judging people and treating them well, which I appreciated. I especially liked Silas and Bod's conversation about suicide: a potentially controversial topic for kids' reading, but I felt that Gaiman handled it with sensitivity. The final chase scene also held a good amount of suspense, especially before the killer is revealed. The bittersweet triumph at the end when Scarlett runs away from him, mad and scared, was also not something you see in your typical children's book, and I appreciated the honesty of it.

The chapter that was the most moving was the final one, where Bod outgrows the graveyard, says goodbye to his adopted family and home, and strikes out on his own. I saw this as a pretty clear metaphor for growing up and gaining independence, and Gaiman hit it right on the head with Bod's reluctance to leave the safe life he's known and the people he loves, even as he yearns to experience life and the larger world.

The one thing that kept me from getting too attached to this book, however, was that everything that occurred felt so random, manufactured, and quick that I didn't have any time to get into the heart of the story or really get attached to any of the characters (except for, perhaps Scarlett). The chapters felt more like a series of connected short stories than a book. It jumped, with no explanatory support from hell and ghouls, to the dance of the dead, to bullies at school--all of which, I have to admit, I didn't get much out of. Random ghosts were popping up every page or so to never be seen again and I never got much of a sense of community in the graveyard or an understandable framework for this new, ghosty world.

Also, Silas was a character I was ready to really care about, but I knew so little about him that he was never more than a shadow. When I read the chapter on the dance of the dead, I knew that I should feel sorry for Silas because he was all alone, neither living nor dead, but it wasn't working. Finally, when Silas and his group go down into that deep cave to kill some more Jacks, it wasn't clear what was happening, what he was doing, or why I should care. Gaiman quickly kills off a random character we'd never seen before and even Lupescu's death is kind of glossed over. What is the point of introducing and offing a character in the same page? At that point I was much more interested in Bod and what was happening above ground. I guess I can sum all my problems up with the idea that I never lost myself and forgot I was reading a novel. The jumping around and lack of understanding of how the world works just kept reminding me that it wasn't real. That being said, I really enjoyed some parts of it and look forward to the discussion.

Reading The Graveyard Book has inspired me to read its inspiration, The Jungle Book. I'm interested to see if reading The Jungle Book somehow changes or enlightens my opinion of this work. The review will hopefully be coming soon.

Redux #19 - "Emma" by Jane Austen

2010-03-09T21:21:00.000-08:00

Whenever I read a Jane Austen novel, I am always amazed that she wrote almost two hundred years ago. I love her books, and her characters are completely relatable, despite the large time gap between writing and reading. Emma (1816) by Jane Austen was the last of the major Austen works that I still had to read. I loved Ang Lee's movie version of Sense and Sensibility, so when I finally read the book, I was a little disappointed. Having seen both Gwyneth Paltrow and Alicia Silverstone as Emma, I was a little concerned that I would have a similar problem with Emma, but I was not disappointed. I often laughed out loud while reading Austen's fantastic dialogue and descriptions of her characters, and Emma is now up there as one of my favorite Austen novels.

Emma Woodhouse is mistress of her father's house in Highbury. Smart, pretty, and rich, she has led a happy and privileged life with very few to say her nay. At twenty-one years old Emma knows less about relationships and love than most, but she has declared that she shall never marry; Emma also seeks to play matchmaker among those of her acquaintance with less than positive results. Emma's most serious transgression has to do with her meddling in her new friend, Harriet Smith's, possible marriage to Robert Martin. It was incredibly frustrating to see Emma ignorantly and blithely throwing away her friend's happiness because of her own vanity and misguided snobbishness. I can see how people would dislike Emma. However, Austen deftly gives Emma the best of intentions, a good heart, a quick wit, and an endearing love and willingness to sacrifice for her father, so that she is not entirely unlikable--even when she's driving you crazy with her actions. Her honesty, willingness to admit her mistakes, regret them, and learn from them also help in this respect.

Spoiler? And then there's the relationship between Mr. Knightley and Emma. At first I was a little put off because Mr. Knightley was almost a father figure in Emma's life, and I would have preferred something of a more balanced association. However, by the end of the novel, they seem to be on more equal footing, and I loved some of their verbal dueling. It was clear from the dialogue that they enjoyed challenging each other. And I guess I'm just a sucker for romances, but it actually made my heart hurt (in a good way) when they finally got together in the garden.

One thing that struck me about Emma was the idea of social hierarchy visited throughout the novel. Most of Austen's other heroines struggle with being honest and noble but relatively poor. Elizabeth and Jane Bennett had almost no dowry, Marianne and Eleanor Dashwood had very little money, and Fanny Price was pretty much an orphan. It is in being so smart and pretty that these women rise above their "station" and marry so well, and it implies a certain disapproval by Austen of the strict social hierarchy of the time. However, Emma is rich, the biggest fish in her little pond, and although she is not consistent, Emma shows more than a little snobbishness when it comes to her place in the class structure. On the one hand, Emma loves her old governess, Mrs. Weston, and clearly wants the best for Harriet Smith no matter who her father is. But then Emma still sees Harriet Smith as beneath her and looks forward to refusing an invitation from the "vulgur" Cox family (gaining in funds but not well born). From my modern perspective it is hard to understand how you can be friends with someone who you think is beneath you. What kind of friendship is that?

Yet Emma is not unaware of the unfairness of class differences on her sex. "...and it caught Emma's attention only as it united with the subject which already engaged her mind. The contrast between Mrs. Churchill's importance in the world and Jane Fairfax's struck her; one was everything, the other nothing--and she sat musing on the difference of woman's destiny..." (Ch. 44). I guess you can find consistency if you think that Emma's snobbishness comes from actual worth and not from birth. Smith is not the brightest or wittiest companion, and even though Mrs. Churchill has married well and is rich, she gets no accolades from Emma. But there were still times when Emma confidently declares herself "better" than others, and I felt a pull towards an approval of the hierarchy of the classes. Harriet Smith marries Mr. Robert Martin and inevitably spends less time with Emma, which was as it should be, according to Emma.

Anyway, as I said before, Emma is now one of my favorites. It entertains on so many levels, and there is so much going on that I will hopefully find the time to continue re-reading this book throughout my life.

Redux #18 - "Migration" by W.S. Merwin

2010-03-04T18:24:00.000-08:00

SEPARATION

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color. (84)

Marra Alane posted this poem on her website a while ago, and I loved the true, sad, simplicity of it. In fact, I was so immediately enamored with the writer that I went to the library and picked up Migration: New & Selected Poems (2005) by W.S. Merwin. Now, the last time I remember actually reading a poem for its own sake was back in English class in high school. And I didn't get it. For the most part, I'm a very concrete person. I revel in exact details and descriptions and knowing exactly what occurred and what the author is trying to say. So, even with my goal of expanding and diversifying my reading, an entire book of poems is a big step for me. And if I wasn't intimidated enough: when I received the book, I found over 500 dense pages packed with hundreds of poems. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to start out with such a large compendium, but I didn't know any better. I wasn't sure if I would ever even get the nerve to crack it open, let alone read the entire thing. It has been months since I started reading this book, and it's definitely bogged me down, but I have finally managed to get through the entire thing.

It's important to note that despite my penchant for takings things too literally, I am pretty introspective and have a deep appreciation for poetry. In fact, I've found that I get over bad break-ups by pouring all my hurt and angry feelings into a poem. I can write pages and pages in a journal on how I'm feeling, but it's amazing how cathartic it is to distill all those thoughts into the short, perfect form of a poem. It's surprised me how little I need to write when I'm choosing my words so carefully, and it's helped me through two painful break-ups. I guess I've stumbled on some very cheap but useful therapy.

Now to get on with the actual book, Migration is a compilation of poems from 15 different published works as well as some new poems by W.S. Merwin. The poems were published over fifty years, from 1952 to 2004 and range widely in style and subject. I'm sure that Cannonball Read is not the best way to read poetry, and even though I spread this book out over a couple of months, it took a lot of focus to finish this one. My complete lack of knowledge about poetry also didn't help. By the end, I was so desperate to move on to something new that I pushed through to the end, not wanting to give up on something I'd already put so much effort into. And it's not that the poems were bad at all, but they took a lot of time, a lot of concentration, and there's no narrative or story to help get me through the book. Some of the poems (like the one above), I just got. They were moving, powerful and amazing to read. Other poems might have had some beautiful and interesting language, but I wouldn't really understand what Merwin was trying to say. And then there were others that just left me clueless. My reading went something like this: ooh, that was amazing; don't get it; don't get it; don't get it; ooh pretty language; who is that guy Merwin's talking about; huh; don't get it; etc. If there weren't so many poems, I could have spent a little more time digesting, looking up unknown names, and trying to understand them, but there were just too many for me to do that. So, if they didn't hit me over the head right away, I rarely read them twice looking for understanding.

I'm afraid that all this rambling on doesn't do justice to Merwin's writing or give a good idea of Migration. It's almost impossible to "sum up" hundreds of completely different poems from over fifty years of an author's life, but I can try by noting that some common themes of Merwin were perspectives, writing, death, the passage of time, and some environmentalism. Some of the language was original, beautiful, and inspiring, and I was very impressed with what I read. Although Migration might have been a little ambitious for my first foray into the world of poetry, I'm glad I read it and I'm looking forward to reading some more poetry in the future. Perhaps something a little smaller and/or annotated, though.

The following is just a list I'm writing for myself. As I read Migration, I noted my favorite poems and their page numbers. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to end up buying Migration someday to peruse at my leisure and I want to be able to find my favorites.
"The Station" (35)
"Burning the Cat" (39)
"Foghorn" (50)
"Plea for a Captive" (59)
"Separation" (84)
"For the Grave of Posterity" (102)
"The Plaster" (126)
"December Night" (127)
"The Cold Before the Moonrise" (128)
"How We Are Spared" (129)
"For the Anniversary of My Death" (131)
"When the War is Over" (134)
"For a Coming Extinction" (137)
"Fly" (139) - disturbing
"Something I've Not Done" (190)
"The Unwritten" (196)
"Yesterday" (245)
"Berryman" (255)
"Lives of the Artists" (310)
"The Red" (386)
"Green Fields" (392)
"This Time" (478)
"The Marfa Lights" (487)
"Unknown Bird" (497)

Redux #17 - The Engine 2 Diet by Rip Esselstyn

2010-02-24T01:24:00.000-08:00

Well, it's another day, so it must be time for another nutrition book. I've really hit upon a new obsession. I'm so frustrated by all the conflicting and vague information I've been reading that it's inspired me to read even more. At first glance, it may look as if I picked up The Engine 2 Diet: The Texas Firefighter's 28-Day Save-Your-Life Plan that Lowers Cholesterol and Burns Away the Pounds (2009) by Rip Esselstyn because of my latest career interest. However, as interesting and entertaining as Esselstyn's anecdotes about station life were, I picked this book up because of my father. After his recent heart attack, my father's doctor recommended that he go on a vegan diet, a diet developed by a cardiologist and that is explained in The Engine 2 Diet, written by the cardiologist's son, who just happens to also be a firefighter.

I certainly have no idea what really is the "best" way to eat, and this book probably did little more than muddy the waters for me, but my dad seems to be improving on it. Although he still eats some egg whites and some non-fat milk, my father has been surprisingly receptive to the idea of a vegan diet--I guess a heart attack can expand your horizons that way. Since a perfect meal for my father is steak, potatoes and corn, this has been pretty challenging for him, but he's stuck to it. And after about one month, he got his cholesterol tested and it has gone down from about 200 to 125, with his LDL going from about 100 to 38. Now, he is on cholesterol-lowering medication, but I was still impressed by this drop and assume that at least some of it stems from his new diet. I guess the real test will be to see if my mother's cholesterol goes down, as she has pretty much joined him in the diet but isn't taking the medication.

Rip Esselstyn is the son and grandson of very prominent doctors, an impressive professional triathlete, a friend of Lance Armstrong, and a firefighter. He uses all of these connections to help sell his diet and his book that promises to help you lose weight, lower your cholesterol, be healthier, and feel better. The diet itself is pretty simple: eat vegan, low-fat food. This means limiting oils, saturated fat, eating only whole grains, and getting tons of fruit and vegetables. Esselstyn's problem with animal products are the high levels of saturated fat and cholesterol as well as their high levels of protein with no fiber. The saturated fat and cholesterol is pretty obvious, but what about non-fat milk and yogurt? Esselstyn is also against these foods, but his argument is less persuasive. According to Esselstyn, protein leeches the calcium out of your bones, dairy products contain cancer-causing casein, and meat and dairy products are acidic, which is bad for your body. I've heard that protein can affect calcium intake, but I think this is a problem only if you eat too much protein. Granted, most Americans are eating too much protein, but that doesn't necessarily require a vegan lifestyle for everyone. I know less about exactly what casein and an acidic food does to you, and Esselstyn wasn't specific enough for me to be able to agree or disagree with him on this point.

It's interesting to compare Esselstyn's heart-healthy book with The South Beach Diet, another heart-healthy book, and this one actually written by a cardiologist. The South Beach Diet focuses on eating only lean meat and low- or non-fat dairy, but completely restricts sugar and decreases the intake of starchy foods. On the other hand, Esselstyn limits sugar and advocates whole wheat products, but he is not all that picky about starchy/sugary foods as long as there are no animal products. Both diets are apparently successful in lowering cholesterol, and it doesn't surprise me as they both seem well thought out and definitely healthier than what the average American heart patient is probably eating right now. A study comparing these two diets heat-to-head would be interesting, but as far as I know it hasn't been done. Anyway, The Engine 2 Diet was pretty entertaining and I learned a couple things. As far as medical information it's about on par with, The Skinny Bitch. Esselstyn is definitely trying to sell his diet and thus sometimes give a one-sided view of some of the ongoing diet debates. But he's approachable, encouraging, and tells stories about being a firefighter, so I didn't mind reading it.

As far as my father goes, his doctor recommended the vegan diet to him and he is planning on sticking with it. As for me, I've become somewhat convinced from those other nutrition books that I should be watching my intake of grains and sugars a little more than Esselstyn suggests. I've found if I don't have enough protein, I have to eat constantly to stave off hunger or face a mounting headache. My next foray will be into the paleo diet; I want to know more about it. After that, I think I'll arbitrarily mix all of their recommendations together into something that works for me and then take a break from the nutrition books for awhile.

Redux #16 - "The Heretic's Daughter" by Kathleen Kent

2010-02-20T22:48:00.000-08:00

I realized after the first Cannonball Read that I had read more books by men than women--even when I counted all the (not quite as literary) books by Stephenie Meyer, Charlaine Harris, and the good number of romance novels I picked up on a whim. And it made me realize that I may be a bit sexist when it comes to reading and writers. I automatically accept that writers such as Philip Roth and Cormac McCarthy are "classic, American" writers without even thinking that there might be a female equivalent. I unconsciously gave their works more significance because they were written by men. Unintentionally, and I'm not sure why, I was automatically ranking books written by women, or about "women's issues" as less important, or less universal, than those written by men. And then it hit me, why did I consider all of Philip Roth's old-man characters struggling with impotence more universal than Jane Austen's female characters struggling to make a life in their society. This was rather disturbing, to say the least, as I always thought of myself as a pretty aware feminist. I also recently read somewhere (I have no cite, but I think it was a reliable source, and I think I'm remembering this correctly) that there are almost no late-night comedy writers. Conan, Leno, Letterman, and Kimmel all have no female writers. Some progress could be made there.

So, I've been rambling for awhile now, but my point is that I was inspired to focus on women writers for this Cannonball Redux. That certainly doesn't mean I'll be ignoring male authors, but my goal is that more than half of the books I read this year will be written by women. A pretty modest goal, but along with my new attitude, an improvement over last year. And this leads me to The Heretic's Daughter (2008) by Kathleen Kent. A number of Cannonballers have reviewed this one, and it sounded pretty interesting. I never learned much about the Salem Witch Trials, but my impression was that it was a time of great injustice that we could still draw lessons from. And, even better (for my purposes), it was written by a woman.

Sarah Carrier is a child witness to the Salem Witch Trials as they take her mother and tear her family apart, all on the account of some hysterical girls screaming witchcraft. Kathleen Kent has done a fair bit of research on the real-life characters of Martha Carrier (Sarah's mother) and her family, and it was very interesting to see a part of history unfold in the pages of her book. I got an understanding of living conditions, housing, family, church, as well as the trials that occurred back in 1692. Sarah Carrier was a believable narrator, not only from her position as an adult recounting these experience from her youth, but also as a woman who grew up in that time. The witch trials are already a pretty intriguing story, but I was impressed by how Kent described the horrendous course of events in true detail without making it melodramatic.

This wasn't one of my favorite books, however, because it did have some problems. It took me quite awhile to connect with any of the characters. I kept getting the sense that the book was filled with fascinating people, but she never told us enough about them. More than once I yearned to be reading a non-fiction account of the Salem Witch Trials instead. I also got a little frustrated with her abundant use of similes and metaphors, some of which were more confusing than clarifying. And Sarah's dreams and the obvious foreshadowing often rubbed me the wrong way; I felt that Kent was sometimes trying too hard to be a "writer," but she wasn't talented enough to make the foreshadowing or use of dreams either subtle or meaningful. But these are all small quibbles in the scheme of things. On the whole, I very much enjoyed reading this book; I became more connected to the characters as the novel continued, and I learned a lot about the time period.

Redux #15 - "Essentials of Fire Fighting"

2010-02-12T22:42:00.000-08:00

I've gotten bogged down with my reading lately and Essentials of Fire Fighting, Fourth Edition, edited by Richard Hall and Barbara Adams (1998) is one of the main reasons for this. I've been taking some written tests and looking into making the transition from lawyer to firefighter, but it's a long process with lots of waiting , hoping, and down time. Now that I've finally figured out what I want to do, I want to start right away, but in the meantime I've been keeping myself busy by trying to get physically stronger and learning as much as I can. I was considering taking either a Firefighter Certification course and/or an EMT Basic course at the local community college. While looking up the course, I got the name of the Firefighter text book they use and decided to get it from the library and read it on my own. I figured I could get an idea of what I will need to know and be able to do as a firefighter. I've also heard that Fire Academies are pretty intense; it's going to be a pretty steep learning curve already considering my lack of experience, so the more I can learn now the better.

Now I realize a text book on fire fighting is probably not a typical Cannonball read, but it is a book and it is over 200 pages, so I'm definitely going to count it. (I'm also already a little behind if I'm going to read 52 books for the year, so I want those 700 pages to count for something).

On the whole, I was impressed with Essentials of Fire Fighting. It was well-written, had tons of good, explanatory pictures, and gave me a good idea of the general responsibilities and tactics of firefighters. I do realize, however, that so much of this will have to be learned by doing. I often found myself thinking, "That would be good to practice with the actual equipment." This was especially true for the chapters on forcible entry and fire hoses--actually most of the chapters. I just won't know what it's like until I try it.

Sometimes I get really interested in a subject because I don't know much about it, but once I learn the basics, my interest wanes. This is not the case with fire fighting. The more I learn, the more I know I have finally found a career I'm excited about. Now I just have to make it a reality.

P.S. Oops, in finding a picture of the cover, I just discovered that a 5th edition came out a couple years ago. Hmmm...I hope there's not too much new information in the latest edition.

Redux #14 - "The South Beach Diet Super Charged" by Arthur Agatston, MD

2010-01-23T13:09:00.000-08:00

After reading The Omnivore's Dilemma; In Defense of Food; Enter the Zone; Skinny Bitch (the sneaky, science-lacking, vegan manifesto); and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, it is pretty obvious that I like to read about nutrition, dieting, and eating. And it's not too surprising: I care where my food comes from and what it does to my body. I want to be healthy. What is always frustrating, however, is that there is no real consensus on what is healthy. There are so many different factors, unknowns, and differences between individuals that any kind of nutrition advice should be taken as "possible guidelines you might want to think about, if they make logical sense, and if you try it and it makes you feel good." Another problem is that if I stuck to a compiled "what-not-to-eat" list from nutrition guides I would starve to death. Meat is bad for you, soy protein is bad for you, beans have too many carbs, milk has been pasteurized, fish has mercury. Nothing is safe anymore.

I prefer books on nutrition that aren't trying to sell some fad diet, so I didn't think much about The South Beach Diet until recently. A couple of weeks ago my father had a heart attack. He's very active, doesn't smoke, isn't overweight, and doesn't eat badly, but his right coronary artery became completely blocked off while he was playing hockey. Fortunately he went to the hospital and they sucked out the clot, put some stents in and, except for a quick but very scary bad reaction to some of his new meds, he's feeling fine. My father doesn't have any history of heart disease in his family, so the only variable left, that I could see that led to this heart attack, was his diet. The nurse at the hospital mentioned that they often recommend some version of The South Beach Diet to their heart patients, so I immediately picked up The South Beach Diet Super Charged (2008) by Arthur Agatston, MD (with Joseph Signorile, PhD) to see what they had to say.

On the whole, I was impressed by the information and guidelines in this book. Dr. Agatston is a cardiologist who focuses on changing your lifestyle so that you'll eat healthy, nutritious foods for the rest of your life--and not just to lose weight. Although many of his recommendations stem from the same nutrition ideas as the Zone--the harmful effects sugars, simple carbohydrates, and saturated fats have on the body--Agatston's diet is more lenient, flexible, and user-friendly. Agatston cares only about the quality of the foods we eat while Barry Sears from Enter the Zone, although he also prefers healthy, whole foods, cares more about the ratio of fats, proteins, and carbs. The South Beach Diet comes in three phases. The first phase lasts two weeks long and is designed to stabilize our blood sugar and reduce cravings by restricting all rice, wheat, potatoes, fruits, etc. After those first two weeks, you can slowly reintroduce some whole wheats, brown rice, and fruit into your diet. By the time you hit phase 3 of the diet, you've hit your weight loss goal, and you've learned enough about nutrition and your body that you can make the right food decisions for yourself.

There is a short exercise section in this book as well. It's good that Agatston appreciates how important exercise is for basic health, and his program is simple to follow, not intimidating for beginners, and can be done easily at home. Between stints of "walking intervals," Agatston incorporates some strength and Pilates-based exercises that looked pretty good. I do much more exercise on my own, so I wasn't particularly interested in this section. My only thought on the subject was that people would be much better off going to a Pilates class than trying to do those somewhat complicated and boring exercises on their own.

I only had a couple of questions and concerns when it comes to The South Beach Diet. First, I appreciate that Americans eat too much sugar, but I really don't like artificial sweeteners or diet soda. I guess it's healthier than guzzling down the pounds and pounds of sugar you might eat otherwise, and I'm assuming that Agatston was trying to make the diet easier for more people to stick with, but at least in Skinny Bitch the authors had the balls to just tell people to stop with the diet soda. Another question/concern I had was about all the meat, and especially the eggs, in all the recipes. For many of the meal plans, Agatston has people eating at least two whole eggs a day. That's over 500 mg of cholesterol and significantly over the daily recommended allowance I've read that two whole eggs a week should be maximum. Of course, I've also read on weightlifting forums that eggs are the perfect food and, if you exercise a ton, you should eat between 20 and 40 eggs a week. I'm playing it safe for now and eating only egg whites, but it certainly isn't clear how good or bad for you eggs really are.

What I want most of all is to get all these authors pinned down in a room where I can ask them questions and they can debate and defend their positions. So many of them contradict each other and they don't give me enough information to figure out for myself what is best. My father's cardiologist said that, because of his heart attack, he should be "as close to vegan as possible" (I haven't been able to read anything specifically on going vegan for heart health yet, but that's my next stop). Then there's Agatston throwing in a lot of meat and eggs in his "heart healthy" diet and claiming that the ratios you eat don't matter, while Barry Sears says the ratios of fat, protein, and carbs is more important than anything else. They do all seem to agree that white bread, white rice, refined grains, and sugar are bad for you, and that a varied diet of whole foods and tons of vegetables is good and healthy. So there is that.

In the end, I liked The South Beach Diet Super Charged. Agatston discussed how sugar and simple carbohydrates affect your blood sugar and your body in a way that was easily understandable and informative, and his focus on exercise and a long-term, healthy lifestyle over simply "losing weight" was encouraging. I think most people could learn something about how to eat better or significantly improve their health by following his advice.

Redux #13 - "Children of God" by Mary Doria Russell

2010-01-19T23:43:00.000-08:00

I really enjoyed Mary Doria Russell's introduction to the story of Father Emilio Sandoz and his travels to a distant planet in The Sparrow, so I knew I would eventually get around to reading the sequel, Children of God (1998). I enjoyed reading this book and was very impressed by the originality of the story, but it didn't quite have the same magic, mystery, and comradeship between the characters that sucked me so deeply into the first book. It's definitely still worth reading if you liked The Sparrow, but it doesn't quite live up to the original.

Children of God starts out almost immediately after The Sparrow ends. Father Emilio Sandoz is on Earth, still recovering from the emotional scars and loss of religion stemming from the inaugural and doomed voyage to Rakhat--a far-off planet that boasts a lot of life similar to Earth's. Emilio wants to let go of Rakhat and get on with his life, but a number of circumstances combine to keep him involved. And with Rakhat in the midst of political turmoil and civil war, a lot is changing.

I'm a bit concerned about going more into the plot because it's really better the less you know, so here's a warning that the rest of the review might contain some SPOILERS as I randomly discuss different parts of the book.

Things I liked: I very much appreciated the originality of the story, I continued to like the writing style and the details, and Russell brings up a lot of interesting issues. I really didn't know where the book was going until the very end, which I appreciated.

Things I'm unsure about: Sometimes I felt vaguely uncomfortable while reading this book but I was often unsure why. I had trouble believing some of the story and sometimes the plot felt somewhat manufactured. For instance, I had trouble believing that Sandoz was captured by the Italian mafia and dragged off to Rakhat--with the blessing and encouragement of the pope and the father-general. Also, while reading the interactions between humans and the Jana'ata, the two species were so similar that I often forgot that they came from different planets. And then I had trouble believing that such similar species would have developed on planets so far apart. I'm just being picky here, but I also would have loved a map of the major cities and areas on Rakhat as well as a portrait of the two major species--just because I'm a visual person.

I was a little disappointed in the ending as well. I thought that Russell had presented a fascinating question about faith and religion in The Sparrow, without answering it, when Sandoz put all his trust in God and then literally everything was taken from him. But instead of allowing the question to linger, she answered it with some idea that all of this was God's way of creating the most beautiful music ever? (at least that was my interpretation). The simple, consoling answer is that we poor humans can't understand God's plan, but it's all for the best in the end. I don't believe that for a minute; the fact that everything that's happened in the last two books was leading to some new, wonderful kind of music was a letdown. For one thing, you can't hear music in a book; the description of this new music didn't fascinate me, and I couldn't imagine a new kind of music that could be so beautiful that it would make such a difference--either in the world or in Sandoz's life.

I also found the moral dilemma of the Jana'ata eating the Runa very interesting, and I kind of wished that Russell had expanded on that idea a little more. The characters are all comfortable in their conclusions that it's evil to eat the Runa, but there is no ethical problem on Earth because "the animals are dumb on Earth so we can eat them." Having been a vegetarian for ten years who has just recently started eating fish and poultry, I don't think the answer is that easy. Pigs are smarter than dogs. At what level of intelligence is it not okay to farm and eat another species? Something like the relationship between humans and chimpanzees might be a close analogy to the Jana'ata and Runa on Rakhat. Chimps are so similar to us genetically that it would almost feel like cannibalism to eat one, but where do you draw the line? We use chimps for medical testing. Is that okay? And I just finished watching The Cove (which I thought was really good); is it okay to eat dolphins because they're so different from us we don't really understand their intelligence? What if eating the Runa were the only way the Jana'ata could continue to survive? Why shouldn't the idea of survival of the fittest apply? Or should we look at how much suffering we're imposing on other species? But how can we really measure suffering? Anyway, this is obviously a question I'm struggling with, and I think it's a lot more complicated than "the animals on Earth are dumb."

Redux #12 - "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver

2010-01-06T22:04:00.000-08:00

As soon as I finished reading The Poisonwood Bible, I quickly declared it my favorite book and went on to read the rest of Barbara Kingsolver's novels. I was pretty young when I read The Poisonwood Bible, and I've never gone back, afraid that a second reading would be disappointing. Yet Kingsolver has established herself as an interesting, dependable author--and one whom I seem to agree with politically as well as worldview-wise. I didn't know much about her latest novel, The Lacuna (2009), but I knew that no matter what the subject, I would be reading it.

The Lacuna is the story of a boy named Harrison Shepherd told entirely through journal/diary entries, letters, and newspaper clippings. The book begins when Harrison is twelve years old and his Mexican mother drags him back to Mexico. Harrison's mother was married to his father--a gringo government accountant type--in Washington D.C., but she left him to chase a series of less and less wealthy men throughout Mexico. Harrison's childhood is rather lonely and neglectful, but after spending a couple years in boarding school back in D.C., Harrison finds himself back in Mexico. Harrison finds occupation in the artist's household of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, which leads to a cook/secretarial position with the exiled Bolshevik Revolutionary leader, Lev Trotsky. Harrison eventually finds himself back in the United States where he writes a couple of fantastic and popular adventure novels about ancient Mexico, but his success is overshadowed when the McCarthy-era anti-communism paranoia starts a backlash against him.

I liked this book. The story was interesting, and the characters were likable and relatable. I never got bored reading it, and I like the way Kingsolver writes--simple and straightforward, but often with a beautiful, poetic quality. Focusing on many important historical events that occurred in Mexico and the United States from 1930-1950 added a lot to the story. It's one thing to read in a history book that "Stalin killed many of his adversaries," but it is quite another to read about the life and death struggle of the Trotsky family as they tried to defy Stalin and survive in Mexico. Kingsolver has a way of personalizing history. One could also draw some parallels between the media and government today with her portrayal of the media and the McCarthy anti-communism grip that held the country after the war. She highlights some historical points that many Americans would probably rather forget.

I'm afraid at this point, though, I want to hold Kingsolver up to a higher standard, and although I really enjoyed reading it, there's something about The Lacuna and Kingsolver's books in general that keep them from being great. There were a number of points where I didn't feel completely involved with the story--where it felt slightly manufactured. First, I like the idea of having the story told from the future with old diaries and writings, but many of the journal entries read more like the narrative of a story, complete with entire conversations quoted word for word. Kingsolver explains this away by saying that Shepherd is a writer and that's how he likes to record what's happened in his life, but it often just didn't ring true for me. Second, I was somewhat distracted by the historical context. It almost felt like two stories--the history of the time, and the story of a boy: I wanted both to go into more detail, and it was hard to tell which was more important. Sometimes poor Harrison just felt like a tool used to jump from one historically relevant event to the next. Finally, I sometimes felt that everything was a little too simplified: the media is bad, the purge of communism is bad, and Harrison Shepherd is the perfect voice of modern reason. And it's not that I disagree with Kingsolver, but some more detail, shades of grey, and subtlety might have added something.

On the whole, though, I enjoyed this book, and I would recommend reading it. The Lacuna is interesting, emotional, ambitious, and works on many levels.

Redux #11 - "Wicked" by Gregory Maguire

2009-12-30T01:16:00.000-08:00

I had heard enough ambivalent reviews of Wicked (1995) by Gregory Maguire that I had decided not to read it. After all, there were hundreds of other books clamoring for my attention, but I never quite forgot it. The idea sounded entertaining and witty, tons of people have read it, and now there's even a Tony-winning musical (that I'm sure I'll want to see someday); I figured that it couldn't be that bad. That, and it turned out my mom had a copy of it. I ignored the fact that she got bored and stopped reading halfway through, and took the appearance of the book as a sign that I should read it. And I was pleasantly surprised. Sure, there were moments that didn't resonate with me, but Maguire created a rich and imaginative world with a real, tragic heroine, while at the same time making funny, pointed commentary on our own world.

The evil, green antagonist that we knew of only as "The Wicked Witch of the West" from The Wizard of Oz was actually born, Elphaba, the eldest daughter of a minister in Munchkinland. There is much more to this girl and woman than a cackling hag terrifying poor Dorothy in the land of Oz. Elphaba is smart and determined, and is more motivated by the pursuit of equality and justice than anything else. After a childhood traipsing after her disappointed father in the boggy marshes of Quadling Country, she finds herself in the city, attending a college for women in the city of Shiz with her new roomy, the beautiful, ignorant, pretentious, country-girl Galinda. During her studies Elphaba befriends Galinda and gets caught up in the struggles of equal rights for Animals as the country disintegrates under the despotic reign of the Wizard of Oz. Elphaba's intentions are almost always good, but her hubris could also be her complete and total devotion to the ideas and people she cares about. In the end, we all know what her fate will be, and like any tragic story, the spiral downward feels inevitable.

The most enjoyable section of this book was definitely Part II that takes place in Gillikin when Elphaba goes abroad to school. This is where we are introduced to "Galinda of the Arduennas" as Elphaba's roommate. Galinda is a spoiled, ignorant, shallow, beautiful debutante from a small town in Gillikin. Having been a big fish in a small pond, she is more than out of her element when first arriving in college, but falls back on her beauty and natural air of superiority to push through. I haven't read a character so funny and irritating in a long time. Yet, she grows and learns in a believable way with Elphaba as her roommate. Elphaba, herself, is more likable and relatable than at any other point in the novel as the strong, willful loner, intent on learning and disdainful of other's opinions.

Maguire explores a number of themes throughout this novel that added some interesting layers, making this book much more than a simple fairytale. The idea of fate and evil are probably the two major ones: Although Elpaba is incredibly stubborn and independent, she doesn't even know if her actions stem from a spell cast on her or are of her own volition. In addition, Maguire's world includes drastic discrimination against Animals (animals who can talk and have the same intelligence and emotions as people), as well as discrimination against women, Munchkinlanders, and otheres, that clearly resonate with our own history.

The most memorable theme for me, though, was what might be best described as biases, assumptions, and appearances not being everything they seem. Maguire plays with this idea from the very beginning. The readers of the book have an idea of The Wicked Witch of the West from the movie, but when you look a little deeper, Maguire shows that there is so much that we did not know or did not understand about her. And that happens a lot in real life as we throw our judgment around. It's easy to slap the label of "evil" on someone and dismiss them (think of criminal trials), but it's much harder to truly understand them or feel sorry for them. It's also easier to slap the label of "evil" or "stupid" on people who disagree with you rather than addressing their concerns. Dorothy's view of Oz, when she arrives, (and the reader's perception of Oz that stems from the film) is also very skewed. Dorothy is thrown down in the middle of something akin to a civil war, but she blithely skips along the yellow-brick road, completely unaware of the complex realities of this new world and the dire consequences of her own actions--much like United States foreign policy in many cases throughout our history (or that's what it reminded me of anyway--especially with Dorothy being a well-meaning girl from Kansas).

There were times when the book got a little slow or I couldn't quite understand the characters' motivations. There are still some scenes that are just beyond me, but I enjoyed reading this book. I was impressed by Maguire's ability to create such an interesting and complex world, and he gives you a lot to think about.

Redux #10 - "Beneath a Marble Sky" by John Shors

2009-12-19T17:02:00.000-08:00

Beneath a Marble Sky (2004) by John Shors is a book I received from my mother. She was giving it away but said that it was worth reading, so I grabbed it. And now that I'm taking a mini break from library books and finally getting to all the books I have sitting around, I finally read it. Beneath a Marble Sky is a fictionalized story surrounding the building of the Taj Mahal. When Jahanara's mother dies in childbirth, her father, the Emperor, is buried in grief, and he decides to build a wondrous mausoleum to honor her. But the main love story in this novel is Jahanara and Isa's story; they meet during the building of the Taj Mahal and try to stay together through marriages, births, uprising, turmoil and death.

On the whole, this was an entertaining book. I liked the characters, cared about them, and wanted good things for them. The intrigue, excitement, and danger of a power struggle for the kingdom kept me turning the pages. The historical setting and details were interesting and added a lot to the story.

However, I wouldn't call this novel great. The characters were one dimensional, and I was often left wondering about their motivations. Jahanara was supposed to be extremely smart and cunning in ways of the court, but then she does some stunningly stupid things that were not explained in the book and didn't fit with her character. I had the same problems with Jahanara's evil, power hungry brother, Aurangzeb. His motivations stemmed from a lust for power, jealousy, hatred, and religious conviction, changing as the plot required, but I never had a good idea of who he was. It also made no sense to me that Aurangzeb, a man beset by paranoia with spies working for him all over the kingdom, would so cavalierly allow unknown visitors to see and talk with his father and sister in private, while they are imprisoned: not the actions of a good despot. In addition, almost all the other characters easily fit into "good" or "bad" stereotypes, being either unendingly loyal and helpful or indesribably evil.

This novel read like a romance novel set in an interesting historical period with some good details. It was entertaining and not difficult for me to finish, but the characters and plot details kept taking me out of the story and I found myself wishing I could read a non-fiction account of the Taj Mahal and the royal family.

Redux #9 - "The Hotel New Hampshire" by John Irving

2009-12-16T00:25:00.000-08:00

I've had a copy of The Hotel New Hampshire (1981) by John Irving hanging around my place for awhile, but I always had something else to read. I've read and loved The Cider House Rules, and I've also read A Widow for One Year, although I think I was too young to really understand it. Now John Irving is quickly becoming one of my favorite writers. Between not wanting to give anything away and being somewhat exhausted, I'm afraid this is going to be a quick review.

The Hotel New Hampshire was one of the most original novels I have ever read. I spent most of the book in pure amazement at Irving's talent with words, character, and story, wondering where he could possibly go next. John Berry, the narrator, is the middle child of a unique family, growing up in small-town Dairy, New Hampshire. His older siblings, Frank and Franny, and his younger siblings, Lily and Egg, along with his parents, form the foundation of his life. Early on in the novel, the family dynamics reminded me somewhat of Little Miss Sunshine, but that resemblance faded as the novel went on.

The focus of the story is on the Berry family and their relationships, as they grow and move around throughout the book. Often hilarious, but also sometimes heartbreaking, ridiculous, and disturbing, it was always interesting. There's so much going on, this is one of those books that I would have liked to read for a class or a book club.

Redux #8 - "The Brutal Language of Love" by Alicia Erian

2009-12-07T13:41:00.001-08:00

I discovered The Brutal Language of Love (2001) by Alicia Erian while browsing through Marra Alane's blog. I think she mentioned it as one of her favorite books, which piqued my interest. When I saw the glowing reviews on Amazon and realized that Erian also wrote Towelhead (I haven't actually read this book, but I've seen the movie), I decided to pick it up.

The Brutal Language of Love consists of nine short stories, all with female protagonists who are disturbingly flawed, vulnerable, and real. My primary experience of reading these stories was very similar to my experience of watching the movie Towelhead--they made me uncomfortable. The very first story begins with, "Beatrice told Shipley she would sleep with him, and then she passed out. When she awoke the next morning, he said he'd gone ahead without her. He got dressed and asked her to drive him to the police station so he could turn himself in for rape, but she said not to worry about it." I was still caught up in all the action of this revelatory half-paragraph: disturbed by the situation; wondering how Beatrice really felt; wanting to know what Shipley was really thinking. But Erian was already moving on to other important relationships in Beatrice's life. I often felt like I was playing catch-up, not emotionally able to digest and understand everything that was happening so fast on the page.

When Erian hit on something in her stories that I could personally relate to, it was often so blunt and honest that I had to catch my breath. However, in situations farther from my personal experience, I sometimes had problems understanding the characters' motivations. This did not lesson my interest or the impact of the story, but was probably an effect of her writing style. The world 'brutal' in the title is perfect. The stories are brutal, their effect on me was brutal, and Erian's writing is so unembellished, direct, and naked--that her writing is brutal as well. I don't think I could say that I enjoyed reading this book as it made my stomach tie up in knots more often than not, but I'm not going to forget these stories. I'm finding that the more I think about them, the more I find in them.

Now, solely for my own benefit and memory, I'm going to list them with a quick (hopefully unspoilerish) blurb, so I can revisit them again:

"Standing Up to the Superpowers" - details Beatrice relationships with Shipley, a college Freshman and her Russian literature professor. Includes the line, "In return he offered her nothing," which I couldn't forget.

"Alcatraz" - Roz is 13 and having a sexual relationship with Jennings while dealing with Jennings' bully friend Garrett. This is where I rediscovered that reading about 13 year olds having sex or being hit on creeps me out.

"Bikini" - Vanessa's early relationship with her boyfriend Shawki, including his dislike of promiscuous clothes and their outing on a lake. This story had me on edge the entire second half.

"Almonds and Cherries" - a film student with a crush on her professor and confused about her sexuality makes a movie about an incident in a fitting room. Consistently interesting, but probably the one I least understood.

"Lass" - Shayna marries Carl, the son of a famous novelist and goes to live with his parents in Ireland. I really couldn't understand the motivations in this story, although I frustratingly felt they were right below the surface.

"On the Occasion of my Ruination" - Very relatable story about a girl heading off to college and eager to lose her virginity while she works in the mall over the summer.

"The Brutal Language of Love" - Another disturbing story with a character named Penny and her problematic relationships with her father, her boyfriend at the movie theater, and the man who films her for his documentary. A lot going on.

"Still Life With Plaster" - a young girl who lives with her grandparents with her younger brother and uncle, a loving home for her that still has its lies and violence.

"When Animals Attack" - a grown brother and sister meet a teenage runaway at a bus station because their mother had befriended him in New York and given him money to get back to him parents. Again, disturbing, and did not go where I was expecting.

Redux #7 - "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall

2009-12-03T10:10:00.000-08:00

I saw Christopher McDougall on The Daily Show, talking about his book Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen (2009). He brought up the rather intriguing idea (to me) that running barefoot can be fun and good for you. After reading another article about him in The New York Times, and constantly battling injuries myself, I decided I wanted to hear more about what he was saying. Now that I've finished McDougall's book, I'm annoyed that it's below freezing and the ground is covered in snow, because I would like to get out there and try some barefoot running. Although I was a little disappointed in the book as a whole, it kept my interest and reminded me why I try to run in the first place.

Part of my problems with the book stemmed (of course) from my expectations. From what he said on The Daily Show, I thought that McDougall had spent months with the Tarahumara and really became a part of their culture. And the back of the book states: "McDougall's ambitious search leads him deep inot the ragged folds of Mexico's Copper Canyon, where he somehow manages the impossible: He plumbs the mystic secrets of the fleet-footed Tarahumara Indians while never losing his deep enchantment with the majesty of their culture." I was looking for some deep insight into the Tarahumarans and their lives. But when you actually get into the book, it turns out McDougall only spent a couple days with the Tarahumara, barely even interacting with them. I did not get a good feel for their culture or how they live, and I felt that McDougall often fell back on the convenient stereotype of noble, primitive man who lives in some sort of Eden because he is far from the world's corrupting influences--but without any actual evidence.

Without having much information on the Tarahumara, the book is padded with some other interesting information about when the Tarahumara ran the Leadville 100 foot race and other famous ultra runners around the world, as well as a quick view, from an evolutionary background, of how we developed to be runners. The end culminates with a small race in Tarahumara canyon country between a couple of the best American ultra runners and some of the best Tarahumara runners.

McDougall also discusses the problems with the modern running shoe, which I thought was really interesting. This idea did not stem from the Tarahumara, but it is true that they use simple, flat sandals when they run. Many running coaches assert that it is best to land on the fleshy part of your forefoot, but the modern running shoe, with it's cushy, padded heel and modern stability, forces you to land on your heel. Studies have shown that the more cushioning you have, the harder you're going to jar the landing--so you're putting more stress on your body. Also, always having your feet controlled and supported weakens them. So, you might be better off with minimal support and cushioning, but running with better form. Although if you try to jump into running barefoot, you could also hurt yourself, because you haven't built up your foot strength yet. McDougall went from constantly nursing injuries to running more and faster than he ever had before. But McDougall also had a world-class, personal coach training him on form and running; it wasn't as easy as simply getting simpler shoes.

Having just read Krakauer's latest book, with his attention to detail and in-depth research, it was a little frustrating to read this one. I felt that McDougall often erred on the side of attention grabbing and storytelling rather than really digging deep and finding the truth. He superficially focused on the eccentricities of everyone involved but rarely gave any indication of their real lives. Superlatives were thrown liberally throughout the book without much evidence or explanation to support them. The Tarahumara were the "best" runners, and everyone was constantly "risking their lives" or "almost dying."

All of my complaining may indicate that I liked this book less than I actually did. In reality, it was a quick, informative, and enjoyable read. If I hadn't just read Krakauer, and if I hadn't been expecting something more (by the misleading advertising, which is always a pet peeve of mine), I wouldn't have been as frustrated. If you see the book as a series of light, interesting articles on why we run, ultra running, and races between Tarahumara Indians and Americans, then you will be satisfied; I'd recommend this book to anyone with an interest in running.

Redux #6 - "Where Men Win Glory" by Jon Krakauer

2009-11-29T00:19:00.001-08:00

Football and war are far from my favorite topics, but I am a fan of Jon Krakauer, so there was never any question of my reading his latest book, Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman (2009). Whether Krakauer is talking about climbing Mt. Everest or fundamentalist Mormons, he never fails to draw me in with his in-depth and sympathetic research and storytelling. And Where Men Win Glory was no different, sucking me into the life of Pat Tillman and deeply affecting me.

I find the news incredibly frustrating to watch, so for better or worse, I tend to avoid it like the plague. Thus, although Pat Tillman's story sounded vaguely familiar, I knew basically no details about his life, his death, or how it was reported at the time. I have since learned that Pat Tillman was an idealistic and unique individual whose hard work and self confidence earned him a spot on the Arizona Cardinals' NFL team after college. But the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001 affected him deeply, and his idealism and love of challenges had him giving up a promising and lucrative football contract and leaving behind his loving wife to join, along with his younger brother, the Army Rangers for a three year contract. After his training and a relatively noneventful tour of duty in Iraq, Pat Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan. Adding insult to injury, the true story of his death was kept from his friends and family as the Bush administration turned him into a martyr and symbol of the war on terror.

I love the way Krakauer writes: he finds a subject that deeply interests him and delves into every facet and detail in order to give a comprehensive picture of the people involved, their motivations, and the environment surrounding them. And I don't know how he does it, but I couldn't put this book down--even the detailed descriptions of Pat's football games had me gripping the edges of the book and reading on without pause. With such a detailed and careful look at Tillman's life as well as the many revealing quotes from Pat Tillman's journals, I felt like I knew him, and I knew that I would have liked him. It's hard for me to even imagine what his brothers, parents, wife, and friends went through when they lost him, and I was left with my constant refrain when it comes to war: What a waste. Why do we do this? What a waste.

Krakauer dicusses in some detail some other friendly fire cases as well as the story of Jessica Lynch, all of which were hi-jacked by the Bush administration and re-told in a more palatable way in order to encourage the country to support the war. I really felt like I got a good, visceral idea of what happens during a war when everything gets fucked up beyond recognition and there are no do-overs. Some of the reviews on Amazon complained that Krakauer was too partisan and used this book to dump on the Bush administration. Certainly, Krakauer is no fan of the Bush administration and is obviously disgusted (as am I) by how they started the war in Iraq, ran the war in Afghanistan, and used Pat Tillman's death for their own purposes, but his primary focus remains on the life and thoughts of Pat Tillman. Krakauer does spend a couple of one-sided pages on the 2000 Bush-Gore election and the Supreme Court decision that gave Bush the presidency, but when seen as one of the many, seemingly unrelated circumstances that eventually led up to Tillman's death, I can see why Krakauer included it. Krakauer also understands the inevitability of friendly fire and that governments have consistently tried to cover up these instances throughout history; in that, he doesn't single out the Bush administration.

Krakauer's style, subjects, and attention to detail are especially appealing to me, so I am not certain that everyone will like this book as much as me, but I found it eye-opening, insightful, educational, and moving. I also believe that you have to read the entire book to really understand (as much as is possible) what made Tillman click and how he lived his life and lost it. A short synopsis won't give you the full picture.

Redux #5 - "The Language of Emotional Intelligence" by Jeanne Segal

2009-11-26T22:46:00.000-08:00

I don't want to spend much time discussing The Language of Emotional Intelligence: The Five Essential Tools for Building Powerful and Effective Relationships (2008) by Jeanne Segal because I wasn't impressed with it, and I really don't want to spend any more time on it. I picked up this book as part of my continuing efforts to become a firefighter. The entry test for firefighters involve some questions on "emotional well-being" and "interpersonal skills." Although I am pretty confident in my ability to do the math and English sections on the test, I figured it wouldn't hurt to focus a bit on "emotional well-being" and "interpersonal skills"--an important part of the test, and two things that law school definitely does not encourage. So, after looking at a list of recommended books from the little firefighter study packet, I found this one.

Now, I like learning how people think and interact; I usually find psychology studies fascinating, but this book was a pretty painful read. It was so general it was impossible to learn anything, and it was incredibly repetitive. I've learned more about humans from reading books about chimpanzees. There weren't many reviews on Amazon for this one, but they were all pretty positive. Now that I've read the book, however, I suspect the author/publisher has been busy on Amazon themselves. I'm a little wary of these "self-help" type books, but I wouldn't mind them if they were a little more interesting and helpful. I might try one or two more from that list just to be thorough, but if they're like this one, I'm giving up.

Redux #4 - "Half the Sky" by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

2009-11-21T13:39:00.000-08:00

I picked up Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide (2009) by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn as a direct result of reading a Cannonball review on Pajiba. I hadn't heard of the book or the authors, but it sounded so interesting that I immediately put it on hold at the library. It's often hard to read books that focus on the worst living conditions in the world--they can easily become mindnumbing and depressing, but I was impressed by how Kristoff and WuDunn balanced intelligent communication of the worst effects of poverty and gender imbalance on women, while still inspiring me with stories of women who manage to survive, and sometimes even thrive, despite horrors and limitations I could hardly comprehend.

Half the Sky focuses on women and three particular abuses that they face in disturbing numbers, including: sex trafficking and forced prostitution; gender-based violence, including honor killings and mass rape; and maternal mortality. Using personal stories of women they have encountered and interviewed on their travels, they describe a system of slavery of women in sex trafficking that involves significantly larger numbers than those involved at the height of the African slave trade in the 1800's. Young girls are sold, kidnapped, or tricked into a brothel, and once there, they are beaten and drugged into submission. Often addicted and infected with AIDS, they live hopeless lives. Even if they manage to run away, most often they do not speak the local language, they have nowhere to go, and the police might send them back or sell them themselves. The hopelessness was sickening, yet there were women who not only survived these situations but managed to set up programs to help others.

Another focus of Half the Sky was the the effects of untreated fistulas on African women. Often caused either by incredibly violent rapes that tear holes into the bladder and bowels or long, difficult labors, women are left dripping urine and feces without control. Their husbands and family will abandon them or sometimes build a hut for them far away in order to avoid the smell, and they become pariahs. Adequate maternal care could help avoid this problem and a small surgery can often heal the fistulas, but many women do not have the access or money for it.

There are many other personal stories and crises women are facing around the world discussed in the book. Kristof and WuDunn make no secret of their goal to encourage and mobilize their readers to help the women, whose stories they are telling, and the many others in need. Yet they manage to do it without being sanctimonious or partisan and by taking an objective look at real, grassroots programs, headed by locals, that have worked well throughout the developing world. For instance, they report that something as simple as providing school uniforms keeps young girls in school longer, preventing them from getting pregnant so young. Also, something as simple as adding iodine to salt can prevent mental retardation in children and significantly raise IQ points.

I would recommend this book to anyone. The personal stories are well-told and wrenching, and it is full of well-reasoned information about problems and solutions for improving women's--and thus everyone else's--standard of living in the developing world.

Redux #3 - "Working Fire" by Zac Unger

2009-11-15T20:21:00.000-08:00

Now that I'm on my firefighting kick, there will no doubt be a portion of my reading devoted to all things fire. Just tonight I was dutifully searching the internet trying to find the reality television show about the Orange County Fire Academy, and I was a little too excited when I finally found it. Definitely intense and intimidating, but I was disappointed that there weren't any women in the class. It's easier to compare myself to other women, and I wanted to see how challenging it was for them. Oh well, when I get a chance I'll search out other seasons. By now the reason I picked up Working Fire: The Making of an Accidental Fireman (2004) by Zac Unger is probably obvious. I've decided I want to be a firefighter, but my legal background has not adequately prepared me for what I might be getting myself into. I'm also afraid that I'm too skinny to ever really be a firefighter, so I'm trying to learn anything and everything that I can through any possible medium.

Working Fire appealed to me because the author, Zac Unger, is a Brown grad and the son of two Berkeley-hippieish intellectuals. He did not have a background in fire, knew no one who was a firefighter, and kind of decided on a bit of a whim to become one. But he succeeded and continues to enjoy his job today. I was somewhat relieved that someone I could relate to in many ways found success at the firehouse. Unger tells the story of how, at his mother's suggestion, he chose to apply to the Oakland Fire Department instead of going to graduate school in Biology and becoming a Park Ranger. He realized that he was suffering through Biology and animal science, something he was not interested in, just so he could have a physical, outdoor job, but that it wasn't what he really wanted to do. After an application process that lasted almost two years, Unger is accepted into the Fire Academy, which includes four months of intense physical training, EMT training, and fire training. After this training there is a year spent as a "probie" (probationary officer) at different fire stations in the city before becoming a "real" firefighter.

Unger does a lot of good things with this book. With a number of entertaining anecdotes he develops a good picture of what it's like to be a firefighter including the stress, difficulties cameraderie, and monotony. I especially enjoyed the self-deprecating stories about the often embarassing mistakes he made as a rookie. I also appreciated Unger's point of view, especially when it came to the Academy. Unger had never even called anyone "sir" before he was thrown into the militaristic, bootcamp-style academy. The instructors were yelling in his face on the first day and Unger was thinking, wait a minute, shouldn't we sit around in circles and talk about our goals and fears?

I was incredibly interested whenever the book went into what firefighters do and how they do it. I was also interested in Unger's take as someone who was something of an "outsider." However, I felt the weaker areas were near the end where Unger tries to sum-up and explain his experiences. I got the feeling that he was more enamored with the image of his job than the actual job and I sometimes sensed a lack of honesty. But on the whole, it was a quick, entertaining, and informative read.