Has it really been since February that I posted? Wow. It's not that I haven't been reading. It's just that I'm not posting. So, only quick summaries/reflections.
Blue Hole Back Home, by Joy Jordan-Lake. It's rather cool to know, I mean, really know, the author of a book, and I do know Joy. I should have read this book sooner, but I'm glad that I did. The story is loosely based on places and settings from Joy's childhood in the South. It addresses the provincial nature of small rural areas and the reaction of the kids when a new girl from Sri Lanka, moves to a back-water burg. She's brave; she's interesting; but she's different. The group that "Turtle" runs with come to accept her, but not everyone is so welcoming. There are plenty of hints that the tension caused by the new, "dark-skinened" girl is going to come to a head. And it does, and tragically so. America at its worst--and best.
Ulltimately, it does not leave one with the warm fuzzy feeling of childhood reminiscences. Rather, it is a reminder of the not-so-distant ugly past--much of the book is set in 1979, which would have been shortly after I graduated from high school.
Perhaps the only criticism I have is that in some respects, I had a hard time fully relating. As a Sri Lankan, Sanna clearly had her challenges. Perhaps it's small-minded of me, but I can't help but think that she would never have been accepted by the "mangy pack" had she been Black. I suppose there's a vein of resentment that foreigners generally are better accepted than African-Americans, but that's something for me to work on. It was time well-spent.
Every Patient Tells a Story, by Lisa Sanders. Sanders is a consultant to the TV series House. That, of course, was a selling point for this book. Her premise is that doctors who listen to their patients are likely to provide better service--not exactlyearth-shattering. However, she does make the case that in many ways, the medical profession has become so enamored with the bells and whistles of technology that the patient is almost secondary to medical care, and that something is lost when physicians fail to listen carefully to their patients to obtain context about their various symptoms. She recounts a series of vignettes--as most of these kinds of books do--to illustrate her points. The most memorable story involved the pot-smoker who was suffering all sorts of problems with nausea and dizzyness because of her chronic use of weed. She, like probably most of us, had never heard of the maladies that some chronic users suffer. Her view: she knew people who smoked more pot than she who suffered no issues. Hence, she disappeared into obscurity, having left the hospital.
Not a bad book.
The Winds of War, by Herman Wouk. The best thing I can say about this book is that I have a better understanding of the lead-up to America's entry into World War II. The second-best thing that I can say about this book is that it had a mildly entertaining story. However, it is one of those stories where all the characters seem to be in harm's way but generally escape with little or no scars to show for it. Only one character suffers any bodily injury, while in Warsaw, chasing after a girl that he ultimately marries. It's not that I want bad things to happen to characters, but rather that it detracts from the reality of the story that the various characters could lead such charmed lives while being at every crucial event in the run-up to Pearl Harbor. Indeed, they're all in Hawaii. The ship that Pug was to captain is sunk, and he's distressed by that, but other than that, all is well. Even his wife, who has a brief affair, is ready to resume her wifely duties.
To add insult to injury, the book has one of those irresolute endings. It ends with Pearl Harbor. What happens to the characters thereafter is left for the sequel. It is the "winds of war" that are addressed by this book, not the war itself, but no thanks to the sequel.
Sacre Bleu, by Christopher Moore
What does one do when her son gives her a book for Mother's Day? Why, read it of course. BoilerBaby 2 and I both became fans of Christopher Moore with our respective readings of "A Dirty Job." In this book, Moore continues to display his character of a very well-read, well-educated 13 year-old, masquerading as a grown man. On the one hand, Sacre Bleu builds its story around the art world during the time of Talousse-Latrec, when impressionists ruled. On the other hand, Moore writes like an adolescent who giggles with his buddies about "bonking" and other such things. Ultimately, that's what makes this book engaging. As I reader, I could indulge my inner child while still feeling like I was reading a very weighty book and learning about Monet, Manet, Seurat, and others. And I did learn something: blue was apparently a very expensive pigment to obtain. Only the wealthiest could afford to commission or purchase paintings that contained blue.
The protagonist of the story is Bleu, a muse who has lived for time immemorial with The Color Man, who inspires artists to paint with the blue pigment she and the Color Man concoct, which then provides their means of immortality. But somebody has to pay. Somebody always has to pay, in the form of death.
The story is wacky, silly, and gave me the speech I plan to use with my children's significant others. Glad I could read this book.
Reading: The First 20 Minutes
Listening: 11-22-63
Given up: Russka
The Red Queen
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Catherine the Great by Robert Massie. This book tells the life of one of the most fascinating rulers the world has ever seen. That she was married very young to the future emperor having met him only once and enduring a loveless (and sexless) marriage gives some hint of the unusual life she led. That she had some 12 lovers, and that at best only one of her children was fathered by her husband (Peter Ulrich) provides another level of fascination. That the empress would have absolute power to rule her people and protect them and that she had the cajones to wage war and defend seek to exapnd her empire makes her truly a unique person to have lived.
Ultimately, while the books was long, it has peaked my interest about Russia and Russian history. St. Petersburg, here I come? That wouldn't be out of th realm of consideration. I've gone through my Russian literature phase, but this might be my second wave of interest in all things Russian.
How to be Black by Baratunde Thurston. I only thought I knew how to be black. But apparently one could use a book. Actually, this handbook on how to be black, written as a satire, strikes a chord. When do black people first realize that they're black? Are we in a post-racial world? Those are just two of the questions posed as Thurston tells his onw history (lived in the DC ghetto; attended Sidwell Friends; black mother who loved to camp and travel, and yes, he can swim!)of being black. Along the way, he instructs readers on how to be the black friend, the black employee,the angry Negro, and the spokesperson for our people. The chapter on how to be the second black president is just short of brilliant. In it, he deftly (and comically) acknowledges the forces that led to President Obama's election while skewering liberals who supported him and conservatives who didn't.
So appropriate to read--after all I read it during Black History month.
Ultimately, while the books was long, it has peaked my interest about Russia and Russian history. St. Petersburg, here I come? That wouldn't be out of th realm of consideration. I've gone through my Russian literature phase, but this might be my second wave of interest in all things Russian.
How to be Black by Baratunde Thurston. I only thought I knew how to be black. But apparently one could use a book. Actually, this handbook on how to be black, written as a satire, strikes a chord. When do black people first realize that they're black? Are we in a post-racial world? Those are just two of the questions posed as Thurston tells his onw history (lived in the DC ghetto; attended Sidwell Friends; black mother who loved to camp and travel, and yes, he can swim!)of being black. Along the way, he instructs readers on how to be the black friend, the black employee,the angry Negro, and the spokesperson for our people. The chapter on how to be the second black president is just short of brilliant. In it, he deftly (and comically) acknowledges the forces that led to President Obama's election while skewering liberals who supported him and conservatives who didn't.
So appropriate to read--after all I read it during Black History month.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Quick rundown
Forgetting one's password means that posting is difficult. . . no impossible. I hate that every site has different rules for passwords, making it difficult for meto keep up with all of my passwords. So, maybe what that means is that I should post more often. But I've been busy. A new Nook for Christmas means that I've been reading my share, but also doing other things. Either way, here goes the quick update.
Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities. It's everything I always suspected. Most sororities are filled with superficial girls who drink and screw more than they study. But the author somehow infiltrated some of the national sororities and gave lots of information that is not available to us who weren't so cute or rich (or white) in college. The black sororities are portrayed relatively positively. The author acknowledges that some have been guilty of hazing, but focuses on the fact that service is an important part of the experience, more so than pre-gaming (drinking before the party) and partying. Perhaps the saddest thing is the black coed who rushed the white sororities at one of the Southern schools (Alabama?). She's everything that should make her a viable candidate,except her color. She's rejected by every single sorority the first year, and then with pressure on the sororities from the administration and support from that same administration, she tries again the next year. The result is the same. Why??? I wish I could have said to her, "Have some pride!"
Anyway, it was light easy reading.
Body of Work, by Christine Montross. This book made me a bit schizophrenic. On the one hand, it made me feel like a kid again, paying chicken with the gross-out factor. On the other hand, I felt like an inquisitive, mature adult, learning about the training that occurs with doctors. In short, this book chronicles the author's first year of medical school, with a primary focus on gross anatomy. Of course, that's the class where med students disect a cadaver. Montross gives sufficiently intricate detail abut the class itself, while interweaving her research findings on hunan cadaver disection, the attitudes of laypeople, and the training and attitudes of medical students in other countries. Along the way, we learn bits and pieces about her cadaver, whom she and her fellow students have named "Eve" because for reasons that they are never able to determine, she has no belly button. As a bonus, she talks about some of the structures of the human body. I found myself feeling around my own body for the landmarks Montross describes.
I gained a new appreciation for the challenge of first year med school as well as the challenge of learning everything in a complex structure like the human body. I feel some urge to donate my body, but I'm not quite ready to take the step of making the actual arrangements. Nonetheless, I had the stomach (and lots of other parts) to finish the book.
Blood Feud, by Kathleen Sharp. Greed knoweth no bounds. That's plenty evident in this book which traces the marketing of the drug Pro-Crit. I vaguely remember the TV ads that used to run, advertising this medicine that would increase production of red blood cells, giving chemo patients more energy. The ads gave hope that one could get through chemo and not suffer as much.
What Johnson & Johnson omitted was that it was pushing the drug for usse in a way that had little research behind it regarding safe dosing levels for use in cancer patients. Rather, J&J pushed doctors to use higher and higher doses.
The marketing of ProCrit for cancer patients was just the tip of the iceberg. J&J didn't invent ProCrit--it was a licensee, subject to a market sharing agreement, which J&J breached with impunity. The inventor reserved for itself the dialysis market, but J&J found ingenious ways to steal customers.
And then there's the kickback scheme, that allowed everyone--doctors, the commissioned sales people, and of course J&J to profit at the expense of the taxpayers.
The story is told mostly from the perspective of one of J&J's salesmen, who started as a superstar and ended as a pariah, and in the process, he brought down his closest friend in the company.
The book provides a fascinating look at the way big pharma morkets its drugs.
Hot Lights,Cold Steel,by Michael Collins. As I am solidly in my "I'm fascinated with medical school" phase, this book fit right in. Collins recounts his four-year residency as an orthopod at the Mayo Clinic. He starts out as an insecure first year resident, unfamiliar witht he jargon of his chosen specialty, and ends as a chief resident. He recounts the tragedies and the victories (such that they are) of memorable patients, including the 40-something woman who learned she had breast cancer when she came in because of pain in her hip--the cancer had already metastasized, leaving her only a couple of months to live. There's the tragic teenager who had a rare form of cancer that required the amputation of half of her pelvis. Would that we all had such a positive outlook on life as that girl, who focused not what she didn't have, but what she did have.
On Call: A Doctor's Days and Nights in Residency, by Emily Transue. Like Hot Lights, Transue recounts her years of residency. Hers is in Seattle, in internal medicine. Transue's book is not as well written, but it is still englightening given that she faces a broader range of patients with different needs. Like Collins, she's fatigued, but there are patients that are memorable and who have a profound effect on Transue. Consequently, while the book is not quite as engaging as Hot Lights, it is more deeply personal; one can see Transue grow as a doctor and grow in maturity and understanding of herself. Good read.
Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities. It's everything I always suspected. Most sororities are filled with superficial girls who drink and screw more than they study. But the author somehow infiltrated some of the national sororities and gave lots of information that is not available to us who weren't so cute or rich (or white) in college. The black sororities are portrayed relatively positively. The author acknowledges that some have been guilty of hazing, but focuses on the fact that service is an important part of the experience, more so than pre-gaming (drinking before the party) and partying. Perhaps the saddest thing is the black coed who rushed the white sororities at one of the Southern schools (Alabama?). She's everything that should make her a viable candidate,except her color. She's rejected by every single sorority the first year, and then with pressure on the sororities from the administration and support from that same administration, she tries again the next year. The result is the same. Why??? I wish I could have said to her, "Have some pride!"
Anyway, it was light easy reading.
Body of Work, by Christine Montross. This book made me a bit schizophrenic. On the one hand, it made me feel like a kid again, paying chicken with the gross-out factor. On the other hand, I felt like an inquisitive, mature adult, learning about the training that occurs with doctors. In short, this book chronicles the author's first year of medical school, with a primary focus on gross anatomy. Of course, that's the class where med students disect a cadaver. Montross gives sufficiently intricate detail abut the class itself, while interweaving her research findings on hunan cadaver disection, the attitudes of laypeople, and the training and attitudes of medical students in other countries. Along the way, we learn bits and pieces about her cadaver, whom she and her fellow students have named "Eve" because for reasons that they are never able to determine, she has no belly button. As a bonus, she talks about some of the structures of the human body. I found myself feeling around my own body for the landmarks Montross describes.
I gained a new appreciation for the challenge of first year med school as well as the challenge of learning everything in a complex structure like the human body. I feel some urge to donate my body, but I'm not quite ready to take the step of making the actual arrangements. Nonetheless, I had the stomach (and lots of other parts) to finish the book.
Blood Feud, by Kathleen Sharp. Greed knoweth no bounds. That's plenty evident in this book which traces the marketing of the drug Pro-Crit. I vaguely remember the TV ads that used to run, advertising this medicine that would increase production of red blood cells, giving chemo patients more energy. The ads gave hope that one could get through chemo and not suffer as much.
What Johnson & Johnson omitted was that it was pushing the drug for usse in a way that had little research behind it regarding safe dosing levels for use in cancer patients. Rather, J&J pushed doctors to use higher and higher doses.
The marketing of ProCrit for cancer patients was just the tip of the iceberg. J&J didn't invent ProCrit--it was a licensee, subject to a market sharing agreement, which J&J breached with impunity. The inventor reserved for itself the dialysis market, but J&J found ingenious ways to steal customers.
And then there's the kickback scheme, that allowed everyone--doctors, the commissioned sales people, and of course J&J to profit at the expense of the taxpayers.
The story is told mostly from the perspective of one of J&J's salesmen, who started as a superstar and ended as a pariah, and in the process, he brought down his closest friend in the company.
The book provides a fascinating look at the way big pharma morkets its drugs.
Hot Lights,Cold Steel,by Michael Collins. As I am solidly in my "I'm fascinated with medical school" phase, this book fit right in. Collins recounts his four-year residency as an orthopod at the Mayo Clinic. He starts out as an insecure first year resident, unfamiliar witht he jargon of his chosen specialty, and ends as a chief resident. He recounts the tragedies and the victories (such that they are) of memorable patients, including the 40-something woman who learned she had breast cancer when she came in because of pain in her hip--the cancer had already metastasized, leaving her only a couple of months to live. There's the tragic teenager who had a rare form of cancer that required the amputation of half of her pelvis. Would that we all had such a positive outlook on life as that girl, who focused not what she didn't have, but what she did have.
On Call: A Doctor's Days and Nights in Residency, by Emily Transue. Like Hot Lights, Transue recounts her years of residency. Hers is in Seattle, in internal medicine. Transue's book is not as well written, but it is still englightening given that she faces a broader range of patients with different needs. Like Collins, she's fatigued, but there are patients that are memorable and who have a profound effect on Transue. Consequently, while the book is not quite as engaging as Hot Lights, it is more deeply personal; one can see Transue grow as a doctor and grow in maturity and understanding of herself. Good read.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Playing Catch-up . . . again
The Dark End of the Street. "A black woman's body is never her own." Until relatively recently, that was all too true. The reality was that while a black man's wayward glance at a white woman could mean he'd be swinging from a tree, white men were free to rape black women with impunity; there was little risk that he would suffer any consequence, but certainly not a death sentence even though the death penalty was available for rape at that time. "The Dark End of the Street" is a pretty appropos title, given that much of what happened was hidden. The police that raped women, the drunkards who went cruising for a black woman to abduct, story-after-story of women who suffered pain and humiliation with no recourse.
Perhaps the most surprising thing was that Rosa Parks was an activist in the fight for justice. Indeed, until the bus boycott, she was better-known for that. Also surprising was that one of the Little Rock Nine was a victim of an attack by a white man.
I am often reminded that the present is a pretty good time to be alive for women. This book is yet another reminder of the how much things have improved for women, black women in particular.
Sex at Dawn. This was a fascinating book, positing the theory that from an evolutionary or anthropological standpoint, humans were not meant to be monogamous. Rather, our history and our evolution suggest that we are better suited for lots of different partners. The authors theorize that the thing thing that changed the trajectory of human sexual development was the move to agriculture, which led to a need for private property, which resulted in women becoming another object of ownership. They support their theory with evidence that hunters and gathers were more cooperative and collaborative because there was no reason to fight--there was plenty of food and it was easy to move to another area to avoid strife. Rather, sex was used as a way to build cooperation and collaboration. There was little concern about paternity certainty, but rather it was to the advantage of the community that all men protect all children.
The authors further describe a variety of hunter-gatherer peoples in which there is lots of sex among lots of people. In some of those cultures, there is the belief that a young woman must be filled with semen upon menarche or other special occasions, which come from various men.
The authors also build their case with descriptions of bonobos, the primates that are nearest to humans who have multiple partners. Moreover, the question the size of the human penis as compared to that of primates where there is a dominant male or pair-bonding. According to them, in humans, rather thabe men battling by size or other prowess, the real competition occurs at the sperm level, i.e. the man whose sperm has the best shot of hitting the jackpot of the egg will have the best chance of reproducing. A larger penis helps get the job done. Plus why are men so fast on the trigger while women take so long to get going? Because, if there are lots of men doing a woman, it's no problem.
In short, there is a reasonably convincing case that humans are not "naturally" monogamous. I'm not planning on having an affair, but it's an interesting theory.
The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain. I felt so much better after reading this book! I'm not losing my mind, and there's little reason to believe that I have early stage dementia just because I find my self questioning what I went to the kitchen to retrieve or do. This is a feel-good book, that reminded me that being middle-aged has its advantages. The studies show that as we age, we are more easily distracted, hence forgetting what we were doing, but we also have a better ability, as compared to younger folks, to focus on what's important and to respond accordingly. We take longer to learn new things, but once we don, we're as good or better as the younguns! Plus, we're happy, happier than the young folks. Provided that we are are in good health with sufficient resources, we tend to be happier than young people because the kids are raised and we have perspective.
Some of what is in this book seems obvious, but I learned some things about what's happening as my brain ages. There's still plenty of plasticity and cell growth that means everything is A-OK, just different.
The Female Brain. A look at what makes a brain female and the developmental stages it goes through, from birth to post-menopausal. It was interesting. Some things were obvious (e.g. girls have a larger area of their brains devoted to talking and teenage girls are very much affected by hormone spikes), but it was nonetheless interesting. If there was one gripe, it was that the author, a psychiatrist, took some of the anecdotes from her practice, which sames made up of far too many whiners who don't need a shrink, but some of Helen Wilson's common sense to just get on with life. Anyway, it was a good read.
Reading: The God Delusion; Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities
Listening: Nothing currently. something soon.
Perhaps the most surprising thing was that Rosa Parks was an activist in the fight for justice. Indeed, until the bus boycott, she was better-known for that. Also surprising was that one of the Little Rock Nine was a victim of an attack by a white man.
I am often reminded that the present is a pretty good time to be alive for women. This book is yet another reminder of the how much things have improved for women, black women in particular.
Sex at Dawn. This was a fascinating book, positing the theory that from an evolutionary or anthropological standpoint, humans were not meant to be monogamous. Rather, our history and our evolution suggest that we are better suited for lots of different partners. The authors theorize that the thing thing that changed the trajectory of human sexual development was the move to agriculture, which led to a need for private property, which resulted in women becoming another object of ownership. They support their theory with evidence that hunters and gathers were more cooperative and collaborative because there was no reason to fight--there was plenty of food and it was easy to move to another area to avoid strife. Rather, sex was used as a way to build cooperation and collaboration. There was little concern about paternity certainty, but rather it was to the advantage of the community that all men protect all children.
The authors further describe a variety of hunter-gatherer peoples in which there is lots of sex among lots of people. In some of those cultures, there is the belief that a young woman must be filled with semen upon menarche or other special occasions, which come from various men.
The authors also build their case with descriptions of bonobos, the primates that are nearest to humans who have multiple partners. Moreover, the question the size of the human penis as compared to that of primates where there is a dominant male or pair-bonding. According to them, in humans, rather thabe men battling by size or other prowess, the real competition occurs at the sperm level, i.e. the man whose sperm has the best shot of hitting the jackpot of the egg will have the best chance of reproducing. A larger penis helps get the job done. Plus why are men so fast on the trigger while women take so long to get going? Because, if there are lots of men doing a woman, it's no problem.
In short, there is a reasonably convincing case that humans are not "naturally" monogamous. I'm not planning on having an affair, but it's an interesting theory.
The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain. I felt so much better after reading this book! I'm not losing my mind, and there's little reason to believe that I have early stage dementia just because I find my self questioning what I went to the kitchen to retrieve or do. This is a feel-good book, that reminded me that being middle-aged has its advantages. The studies show that as we age, we are more easily distracted, hence forgetting what we were doing, but we also have a better ability, as compared to younger folks, to focus on what's important and to respond accordingly. We take longer to learn new things, but once we don, we're as good or better as the younguns! Plus, we're happy, happier than the young folks. Provided that we are are in good health with sufficient resources, we tend to be happier than young people because the kids are raised and we have perspective.
Some of what is in this book seems obvious, but I learned some things about what's happening as my brain ages. There's still plenty of plasticity and cell growth that means everything is A-OK, just different.
The Female Brain. A look at what makes a brain female and the developmental stages it goes through, from birth to post-menopausal. It was interesting. Some things were obvious (e.g. girls have a larger area of their brains devoted to talking and teenage girls are very much affected by hormone spikes), but it was nonetheless interesting. If there was one gripe, it was that the author, a psychiatrist, took some of the anecdotes from her practice, which sames made up of far too many whiners who don't need a shrink, but some of Helen Wilson's common sense to just get on with life. Anyway, it was a good read.
Reading: The God Delusion; Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities
Listening: Nothing currently. something soon.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
What's happening!
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Being poor is hard; it's challenging. Francie, the main character, manages to survive and to have hope. She survives the demeaning statements of the doctor who immunizes the poor children before statrting school. She survives the meaniness of the neighborhood school and her choice to walk more than a mile to attend a better schol. Francie survives her mother's decision to allow Neely, Francie's younger brother, to attend school while expecting Francie to work to help support the family. Through all that occurs with her nuclear family and her aunts, she retains a steely core and has hope--sustaining hope. A nice coming-of-age story.
An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser. This book marked a temporary return to the Time 100 Best Novels list. I love the true crime shows on cable tv, and I loved this book! Written like one of the best true crime stories, but with the collateral stories that exist in a work of nonfiction. Clyde Griffiths, raised by non-ordained Christian ministers that run a"mission" and can barely take care of themselves, wants more. He wants the material goods that he sees other 12-year olds have. He wants to hang out with friends, especially girls, like other teens, as time progresses. He wants the American dream. As is the case in real life, often, the first bit of freedom spells trouble for a boy who is ill-prepared to deal with the temptations of the world.
As the novel unfolds, a chance meeting with the beautiful daughter of a wealthy family coupled with an unplanned pregnancy with a working class girl spells doom for Clyde. At points during the story, I felt bad for Clyde because of his treatment by the wealthier branch of his family. Later, I hated Clyde--he had no redeeming characteristics. By the end, I felt bad because of Clyde's wasted life. Masterful story-telling, for sure.
The Believing Brain by Michael Shermer. I guess it's accurate to say that I'm in my brain stage. Back-to-back audio books on the brain is the evidence. This book focused on how beliefs form--the patternicity and agenticity--and why the scientific method is a superior method for testing beliefs. I mostly enjoyed it, especially the chapters on religious beliefs and alien abductions, which, according to Shermer, can be explained based on the physiology of the brain. On the other hand, like Incognito, at times it digressed into other areas, that I'm not sure I understood why they were there or where they fitted. There's a lengthy discussion of the origin of the universe. I understand why that may raise questions about the belief in god, but it went into the kind of detail that was more appropriate for A Short History of Nearly Everything. It was a good review, but not necessary. Nonetheless, I suppose I've become more of a skeptic, which in some ways, is a bit troubling, but that's a discussion for another time.
Reading: The Dark End of the Street.
Listening: Sex at Dawn
An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser. This book marked a temporary return to the Time 100 Best Novels list. I love the true crime shows on cable tv, and I loved this book! Written like one of the best true crime stories, but with the collateral stories that exist in a work of nonfiction. Clyde Griffiths, raised by non-ordained Christian ministers that run a"mission" and can barely take care of themselves, wants more. He wants the material goods that he sees other 12-year olds have. He wants to hang out with friends, especially girls, like other teens, as time progresses. He wants the American dream. As is the case in real life, often, the first bit of freedom spells trouble for a boy who is ill-prepared to deal with the temptations of the world.
As the novel unfolds, a chance meeting with the beautiful daughter of a wealthy family coupled with an unplanned pregnancy with a working class girl spells doom for Clyde. At points during the story, I felt bad for Clyde because of his treatment by the wealthier branch of his family. Later, I hated Clyde--he had no redeeming characteristics. By the end, I felt bad because of Clyde's wasted life. Masterful story-telling, for sure.
The Believing Brain by Michael Shermer. I guess it's accurate to say that I'm in my brain stage. Back-to-back audio books on the brain is the evidence. This book focused on how beliefs form--the patternicity and agenticity--and why the scientific method is a superior method for testing beliefs. I mostly enjoyed it, especially the chapters on religious beliefs and alien abductions, which, according to Shermer, can be explained based on the physiology of the brain. On the other hand, like Incognito, at times it digressed into other areas, that I'm not sure I understood why they were there or where they fitted. There's a lengthy discussion of the origin of the universe. I understand why that may raise questions about the belief in god, but it went into the kind of detail that was more appropriate for A Short History of Nearly Everything. It was a good review, but not necessary. Nonetheless, I suppose I've become more of a skeptic, which in some ways, is a bit troubling, but that's a discussion for another time.
Reading: The Dark End of the Street.
Listening: Sex at Dawn
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Oops, I did it again . . .
How did I get behind? I keep forgetting to post, but here goes.
Dragonfly in Amber, by Diana Gabaldon. This is the second in the Outlander series. The story is not quite as engaging as Outlander, but still passably good. The first part of the story is mor.e present day, as Clair returns to Scotland with her daughter, having practiced medicine for some 20 years or so. Her present day husband, Frank, has died, and she's ready to disclose to her daughter her paternity. As it turns out, Frank is NOT the daddy. Rather than honor goes to Jamie--not exactly a surprise.
The second part of the story recounts Jamie's and Clair's life after Clair rescues Jamie from prison and nurses him back to physical and mental health. The history of the Jacobites, in my mind, weighs the story down some; the story seems to drag, as Jamie, armed with Claire's knowledge of the future, attempts to rewrite history to avoid defeat at Culloden. The characters too often seem to act, well, out of character. At times, Claire seems irrational and overly emotional. In the end, it was an okay story, but I found myself counting down the pages until the end.
Tess of the D'Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy. This is a re-read, and it was better, although no less tragic, the second time around. Poor Tess. Circumstances beyond her control, and society's view of women, lead to her ultimate demise. The men in her life mostly fail her if they don't outright hurt her in some way. Hardy writes an interesting commentary about the social order, creating what what he believes to be a pure woman. I'm not so sure she's pure, or maybe it's just that I want her to stand up for herself and to be more worldly. Maybe, once again, it's me looking at a 19th century story with 21st century eyes. Well worth the time to re-read.
Agnes Grey, by Anne Bronte. There's a reason why Anne didn't enjoy as much fame and renown as Emily and Charlotte. This story is interesting, but ultimately seems to be little more than a glimpse into the world of a governess, with little character development and only a thin plot. Agnes, to help her family who is nearly destitute after an investment goes bad, becomes a governess. The first family she lands with has the brattiest, pre-sociopaths one could possible hope to meet. It's no surprise, given that the parents exercise no discipline and won't allow Agnes to do so either. Plus they condone torturing baby birds, after all, God made animals for man's pleasure. The engagement doesn't last long. The second family has older children, but with much the same attitude. The two boys are arrogant and the daughters are deceitful. One is willing to play with the affections of men just for the pleasure of turning them down. Through it all, Agnes, raised on her mother's love and disciplined with her disapproval, maintains her integrity. She never speaks up, even to defend herself. A little backbone please? Anyway, in the end, she finds her soul mate, who is every bit as good-hearted as she is, and they all live happily ever after.
Reading: The Apothecary's Daughter.
Listening: A Brief History of Nearly Everything.
Dragonfly in Amber, by Diana Gabaldon. This is the second in the Outlander series. The story is not quite as engaging as Outlander, but still passably good. The first part of the story is mor.e present day, as Clair returns to Scotland with her daughter, having practiced medicine for some 20 years or so. Her present day husband, Frank, has died, and she's ready to disclose to her daughter her paternity. As it turns out, Frank is NOT the daddy. Rather than honor goes to Jamie--not exactly a surprise.
The second part of the story recounts Jamie's and Clair's life after Clair rescues Jamie from prison and nurses him back to physical and mental health. The history of the Jacobites, in my mind, weighs the story down some; the story seems to drag, as Jamie, armed with Claire's knowledge of the future, attempts to rewrite history to avoid defeat at Culloden. The characters too often seem to act, well, out of character. At times, Claire seems irrational and overly emotional. In the end, it was an okay story, but I found myself counting down the pages until the end.
Tess of the D'Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy. This is a re-read, and it was better, although no less tragic, the second time around. Poor Tess. Circumstances beyond her control, and society's view of women, lead to her ultimate demise. The men in her life mostly fail her if they don't outright hurt her in some way. Hardy writes an interesting commentary about the social order, creating what what he believes to be a pure woman. I'm not so sure she's pure, or maybe it's just that I want her to stand up for herself and to be more worldly. Maybe, once again, it's me looking at a 19th century story with 21st century eyes. Well worth the time to re-read.
Agnes Grey, by Anne Bronte. There's a reason why Anne didn't enjoy as much fame and renown as Emily and Charlotte. This story is interesting, but ultimately seems to be little more than a glimpse into the world of a governess, with little character development and only a thin plot. Agnes, to help her family who is nearly destitute after an investment goes bad, becomes a governess. The first family she lands with has the brattiest, pre-sociopaths one could possible hope to meet. It's no surprise, given that the parents exercise no discipline and won't allow Agnes to do so either. Plus they condone torturing baby birds, after all, God made animals for man's pleasure. The engagement doesn't last long. The second family has older children, but with much the same attitude. The two boys are arrogant and the daughters are deceitful. One is willing to play with the affections of men just for the pleasure of turning them down. Through it all, Agnes, raised on her mother's love and disciplined with her disapproval, maintains her integrity. She never speaks up, even to defend herself. A little backbone please? Anyway, in the end, she finds her soul mate, who is every bit as good-hearted as she is, and they all live happily ever after.
Reading: The Apothecary's Daughter.
Listening: A Brief History of Nearly Everything.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Playing Catch-up, big-time
From the last post:
Two for the Money, by Janet Evanovich. Another Stephanie Plum novel with parts that make one laugh out loud and make me think that Janet Evanovich must be one fun woman to hang out with. Stephanie has become a better bounty hunter, but still needs help, sometimes from her grandmother, although with the kind of help she offers, who needs antagonists. One moment attending funerals and checking out the body to see if a finger has really been severed; the next, spouting lines from Dirty Harry, everyone should have a grandmother like Grandma Mazur.
This one is enough different that I'm not too concerned (yet) about the books becoming formulaic, but I wonder if she can maintain the originality as the books continue.
Gray Matter, by David Levy. Dr. Levy is a Christian. Like most doctors, Levy did not attend a medical school that openly discussed spirituality, specifically prayer. Nonetheless, Dr. Levy, a brain surgeon, discovers his spirituality and the importance of prayer in his life, and undertakes to pray with his patients. As a neurosurgeon, Dr. Levy encounters many frightened patients for whom prayer is a comfort. Others are scared, but skeptical of prayer. Either way, after he gets up the nerve to ask to pray, he discovers that most patients are willing to allow the prayer, and that many of the medical professionals with whom he works also want to participate.
I was a bit skeptical myself. I believe in the power of prayer, but I was concerned that Dr. Levy was another sanctimonious holy-roller who, given his position of power. What I found was that he was a bit arrogant, but then again he's a brain surgeon. He was sensitive to the sentiments of others and did not force himself on anyone. He even senstively handled the situation involving a Jew and a Muslim.
Overall, I hope that other medical professionals might be encouraged to consider it. When I was a patient, I remember how I felt more peaceful when Raymond B prayed with me before my surgery. It would have been nice to have the medical professionals asking for wisdom and skill in peforming the surgery.
Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Everyone should read a time travel book from time-to-time. This one, set in Scotland, involves Claire Randle, who one moment is enjoying a second honeymoon with her husband, whom she barely knows given that she's spent several years as a WW2 battlefield nurse, and the next, she's wandering the Scottish countryside, courtesy of some bewitched stones that hurl her back in time to the 1700s when she walks through them. Sex, murder, accusations of witchcraft, and a little bit of English-Scottish history make for a pretty good story. Gabaldon has some annoying traits, like verbosity and constantly using the adverb "dryly" to modify every bit of dialogue, but overall, it's a pretty good read, good enough that I've been working on the second book in the series, Dragonfly in Amber.
Water for Elephants, by Sara Gruen. Interesting premise--a story about the old-time traveling circuses during the depression era. Jacob Jankowski literally, although unintentionally, ran away and joined the circus, and in the process, acaquired an elephant and a wife.
The story is told in retrospect by old Jacob. Those parts are rather depressing reminders of loneliness and despair of growing old, outliving spouse and most friends, and waiting for . . . what, in a nursing home where the residents are treated much like children. The parts that take place while Jacob is young are intriguing, if a bit fantastic, but one gets an idea of why running away to the circus was considred romantic.
Bossypants, by Tina Fey. How did Tina Fey get to be Tina Fey? This memoir takes the reader fron her childhood and her education on the facts of life, through her time in Chicago learning how to do improv to her hiring as a writer on Saturday Night Live to her position as creator, producer, and star of 30 Rock. It's Tina Fey. She writes jokes for a living, so there are some pretty funny parts, plus, one gets an backstage pass to these iconic shows--well two of them are iconic. Good book.
Well, I think I'm caught up.
Reading:
Dragonfly in Amber
Listening:
A Brief History of Nearly Everything
Two for the Money, by Janet Evanovich. Another Stephanie Plum novel with parts that make one laugh out loud and make me think that Janet Evanovich must be one fun woman to hang out with. Stephanie has become a better bounty hunter, but still needs help, sometimes from her grandmother, although with the kind of help she offers, who needs antagonists. One moment attending funerals and checking out the body to see if a finger has really been severed; the next, spouting lines from Dirty Harry, everyone should have a grandmother like Grandma Mazur.
This one is enough different that I'm not too concerned (yet) about the books becoming formulaic, but I wonder if she can maintain the originality as the books continue.
Gray Matter, by David Levy. Dr. Levy is a Christian. Like most doctors, Levy did not attend a medical school that openly discussed spirituality, specifically prayer. Nonetheless, Dr. Levy, a brain surgeon, discovers his spirituality and the importance of prayer in his life, and undertakes to pray with his patients. As a neurosurgeon, Dr. Levy encounters many frightened patients for whom prayer is a comfort. Others are scared, but skeptical of prayer. Either way, after he gets up the nerve to ask to pray, he discovers that most patients are willing to allow the prayer, and that many of the medical professionals with whom he works also want to participate.
I was a bit skeptical myself. I believe in the power of prayer, but I was concerned that Dr. Levy was another sanctimonious holy-roller who, given his position of power. What I found was that he was a bit arrogant, but then again he's a brain surgeon. He was sensitive to the sentiments of others and did not force himself on anyone. He even senstively handled the situation involving a Jew and a Muslim.
Overall, I hope that other medical professionals might be encouraged to consider it. When I was a patient, I remember how I felt more peaceful when Raymond B prayed with me before my surgery. It would have been nice to have the medical professionals asking for wisdom and skill in peforming the surgery.
Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Everyone should read a time travel book from time-to-time. This one, set in Scotland, involves Claire Randle, who one moment is enjoying a second honeymoon with her husband, whom she barely knows given that she's spent several years as a WW2 battlefield nurse, and the next, she's wandering the Scottish countryside, courtesy of some bewitched stones that hurl her back in time to the 1700s when she walks through them. Sex, murder, accusations of witchcraft, and a little bit of English-Scottish history make for a pretty good story. Gabaldon has some annoying traits, like verbosity and constantly using the adverb "dryly" to modify every bit of dialogue, but overall, it's a pretty good read, good enough that I've been working on the second book in the series, Dragonfly in Amber.
Water for Elephants, by Sara Gruen. Interesting premise--a story about the old-time traveling circuses during the depression era. Jacob Jankowski literally, although unintentionally, ran away and joined the circus, and in the process, acaquired an elephant and a wife.
The story is told in retrospect by old Jacob. Those parts are rather depressing reminders of loneliness and despair of growing old, outliving spouse and most friends, and waiting for . . . what, in a nursing home where the residents are treated much like children. The parts that take place while Jacob is young are intriguing, if a bit fantastic, but one gets an idea of why running away to the circus was considred romantic.
Bossypants, by Tina Fey. How did Tina Fey get to be Tina Fey? This memoir takes the reader fron her childhood and her education on the facts of life, through her time in Chicago learning how to do improv to her hiring as a writer on Saturday Night Live to her position as creator, producer, and star of 30 Rock. It's Tina Fey. She writes jokes for a living, so there are some pretty funny parts, plus, one gets an backstage pass to these iconic shows--well two of them are iconic. Good book.
Well, I think I'm caught up.
Reading:
Dragonfly in Amber
Listening:
A Brief History of Nearly Everything
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Just a Quick List
No time to do more than just list, so here goes:
1. Two For the Dough, by Janet Evanovich.
2. Gray Matter, by David Levy
Reading: Outlander and Angelology
1. Two For the Dough, by Janet Evanovich.
2. Gray Matter, by David Levy
Reading: Outlander and Angelology
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
A pretty good one
One for the Money, by Janet Evanovich. I've been a bit of a hater if the last two reads are any indication. But alas! A pretty good book. The Facebook question on the B&N page asking about books that made readers laugh sparked my interest. It might not have a gut-splitter, but there was still some funny parts. The 250 pound whore, who apparently is in good physical shape--humping all day must keep you in shape! Who, besides Stephanie Plum, would, 1) intentionally hit the guy she screwed in high school with a Buick; 2) go into bounty hunting with no experience, and an initial fear of her gun; 3) get herself handcuffed to her shower rack naked?
The story was a bit wacky, but it moved. And it was a short (and thereby quick) read. Nothing too taxing, but interesting nonetheless. I think I might just give Two for the Money a shot.
The story was a bit wacky, but it moved. And it was a short (and thereby quick) read. Nothing too taxing, but interesting nonetheless. I think I might just give Two for the Money a shot.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Beyond Justice? Beyond Belief!
Beyond Justice, by Joshua Graham. There are plenty of times that I can see why others might enjoy a book that doesn't particularly appeal to me. I just don't get why the reviews for Beyond Justice have been so positive for a book with such a contrived and preposterous plot line. For example, the court room scenes are ridiculous. What DA goes to trial before the DNA results are available? What defense attorney argues a motion about the admissibility of those DNA results before reviewing the DNA results? What judge would entertain a motion to suppress without a basis? And if that's not enough, there's the scene in which an assistant DA impersonates a public defender in an attempt to get a confession out of Sam, the protagonist. I guess the author is unfamiliar with the rules of ethics and that beyond the impact on the case, the lawyer who attempted it would likely soon be both an ex-ADA, and indeed an ex-lawyer, even in the slimiest of DA offices.
Then there are the prison scenes. Since when can one correctional officer move a death row inmate into general population just out of vindictiveness? Can an inmate really casually walk out of a super-max prison with just a change of clothes and an escort in the form of a sympathetic CO?
When the real killer is finally identified, the clear conflict of interest between one of the detectives and the perp is just overlooked. Indeed, in virtually every setting, there are no more than two people who do everything. There are just two DAs, both of which handle Sam's case and the prosecution of the real killer. There's one detective, who gathers the evidence against Sam (and is a stock man-hating bitch) and who has a cyber-affair with the real perp, and is later allowed to assist in bringing him in. There are only two COs in the whole prison, and neither appears to be subject to much oversight.
Those are just the most blatant licenses taken in the story, but it's enough to make this book an almost total waste of time. I ultimately finished it just to see what would happen, but it wasn't the page-turner others described, rather just a book that required discipline to finish.
If there is one redeeming factor, it is that the author ackknowledged that there is some bad religion out there that serve only to discourage conversion. I'm not sure that what Graham presents is much better however. While the story doesn't end with a perfectly happy ending, there is still the kind of theology that makes it hard for non-believers to believe. Most of us will never have visions or read Bibles where the words glow or get the kind of "sign" from God that speaks in volumes. Those who expect such before they believe will never believe. That is the kind of fare served up in this book.
Oh well. Live and learn and what I've learned is that if there's a highly recommended book that lists for only $2.99, then I'm likely to get what I paid for.
Then there are the prison scenes. Since when can one correctional officer move a death row inmate into general population just out of vindictiveness? Can an inmate really casually walk out of a super-max prison with just a change of clothes and an escort in the form of a sympathetic CO?
When the real killer is finally identified, the clear conflict of interest between one of the detectives and the perp is just overlooked. Indeed, in virtually every setting, there are no more than two people who do everything. There are just two DAs, both of which handle Sam's case and the prosecution of the real killer. There's one detective, who gathers the evidence against Sam (and is a stock man-hating bitch) and who has a cyber-affair with the real perp, and is later allowed to assist in bringing him in. There are only two COs in the whole prison, and neither appears to be subject to much oversight.
Those are just the most blatant licenses taken in the story, but it's enough to make this book an almost total waste of time. I ultimately finished it just to see what would happen, but it wasn't the page-turner others described, rather just a book that required discipline to finish.
If there is one redeeming factor, it is that the author ackknowledged that there is some bad religion out there that serve only to discourage conversion. I'm not sure that what Graham presents is much better however. While the story doesn't end with a perfectly happy ending, there is still the kind of theology that makes it hard for non-believers to believe. Most of us will never have visions or read Bibles where the words glow or get the kind of "sign" from God that speaks in volumes. Those who expect such before they believe will never believe. That is the kind of fare served up in this book.
Oh well. Live and learn and what I've learned is that if there's a highly recommended book that lists for only $2.99, then I'm likely to get what I paid for.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Septimus Heap: Neither Magykal or Majical
Magyk: Septimus Heap, by ??? The Harry Potter is arguably one of those once-in-a-lifetime phenomenons, so I'd be crazy to expect that anything would or could match Harry Potter for plot, character, or overall imagination. But I'd hoped that this might be good enough. The best that I can say is that it was okay enough. The son of the seventh son, hence Septimus, is at the heart of this book. It doesn't take too long to figure out who among the characters is the real Septimus, given that Septimus allegedly died at birth--so much for suspense. And there's too little character development to cause me to care about really any of the characters. Jenna or the Queenling? Seems nice enough, but other than that she is the adopted daughter of the Heaps who looks nothing like them, there's not much more to say. Nicko? He's one of the Heaps, and he knows his way around a boat, but so? Marcia, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard? Other than that there's only one, who gets the penthouse suite of the Wizard's Tower, it's not clear how the ExtraOrdinary Wizard is different from the Ordinary Ones.
Maybe it's not fair to compare Septimus Heap to the Harry Potter series, but when I think of what I knew after the first book, I understood that Hermione was a know-it-all with the brains to back it up, and even in the first book, her character developed as she learned to moderate her annoying know-it-allness. I understood the charcters of Fred and George Weasley. It was clear that Ron felt the insecurity of being the youngest son in an old wizarding family. Heck, even Neville Longbottom was drawn well enough that I felt like I knew him because I had known kids like him growing up. Not to mention that the creatures JKR created were not only creative, they existed to push the story further. Plus, Harry Potter appealed to both kids and adults.
Maybe the other books in the Magyk series will accomplish more of the things I was looking for, but ultimately, this first one was a book that I could put down quite easily, and it did not spark my interest enough to want to read the others in the series.
Maybe it's not fair to compare Septimus Heap to the Harry Potter series, but when I think of what I knew after the first book, I understood that Hermione was a know-it-all with the brains to back it up, and even in the first book, her character developed as she learned to moderate her annoying know-it-allness. I understood the charcters of Fred and George Weasley. It was clear that Ron felt the insecurity of being the youngest son in an old wizarding family. Heck, even Neville Longbottom was drawn well enough that I felt like I knew him because I had known kids like him growing up. Not to mention that the creatures JKR created were not only creative, they existed to push the story further. Plus, Harry Potter appealed to both kids and adults.
Maybe the other books in the Magyk series will accomplish more of the things I was looking for, but ultimately, this first one was a book that I could put down quite easily, and it did not spark my interest enough to want to read the others in the series.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
2(Jane Austen) + Perry.
Well, I finished Sense and Sensibility, and then, since I was in "Jane Austen mode," I figured I might as well go ahead and read Emma. But one can stay in JAM only so long before one has to return to the non-JAM world. That's where, The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog, comes in. So here goes.
Sense and Sensibility. I did it! I finally finished this book, having started it a couple of times before becoming distracted during the first chapter. I liked it, but hadn't gotten far enough into it to feel compelled to finish it when life (and other books) got in the way. Anywho, I enjoyed it. Typical Jane Austen fare, where much of the tension centers around young women who must find a spouse or risk eternal vulnerability. And as is so often clear in JA books, even marriage is no guaranty of security, as Mrs. Dashwood finds out when her husband leaves the vast majority of his property to his son from his first marriage, notwithstanding that the son already has a house in London and is well-provided for, leaving his three daughters and their mother essentially without a home. Of course there is the rogue man (Willoughby) who toys with Maryann's affections. And in this book, we get the rogue female, if you will, in the form of Lucy Steele, who dashes Elinor's hopes for domestic happiness by disclosing that she is secretly engaged to Edward Ferrars, whom Elinor hoped to bag--I mean marry. It all works out in the end as both women end up with the right man--Ferrars in Elinor's case, and Col. Whathisface in Maryann's case. Elinor who is "sense" in the beginning becomes more sensible, and Maryann who is "sensibility" develops (finally) good sense. The one thing you can count on is that everyone will marry happily in the end, and have enough income to have servants. Life is good.
Emma. Yet another book that I started but only now finished. Poor (or rather rich), determined Emma, the neighborhood "matchmaker." Having fixed up her governess, she is convinced that she can do the same for Harriet, a girl with no known parentage and limited means. As one would expect, it all goes awry, to the despair of Harriet. And then there's Frank Churchill, whom Emma takes great delight in using him as her sounding board as she bad-mouths Jane Fairfax, of whom, at bottom, Emma is jealous of. What a surprise she ultimately has coming about the real deal between Jane Fairfax and Churchill. And although Emma is determined to remain single, in part to care for her invalid father, in the end, we know, it's JA! There will be a marriage, and in fact, there are three: Emma, Harriet, and Jane all find their true loves. And they're all going to be mostly fat and happy.
Having read two JABs back-to-back, I find myself torn about whether I like JA or not. I like the stories, and there are complex themes, and even a hint of feminism at times. JA was one of the gentry and her characters live in that world. The servants exist only to serve and to provide a tidbit of gossip from time-to-time. On the other hand, the portrait of the rich is not particularly complimentary. They sometimes come across as insensitive and self-centered, or even shallow--after all Frank Churchill rides off to London (16 miles!) simply to get a haircut. That's seems extreme even today! They mostly do nothing, except sitting around playing cards, eating, and gossiping. In the end, I like Jane Austen, but I feel like a traitor or an outsider. She didn't write about people like me by any stretch of a comparison. But I suppose I'll eventually read the only JA novel that remains to be read, i.e, Northanger Abbey. Indeed, I'll probably even re-read most if not all of them.
The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Dr. Bruce Perry. A friend, who adopted an older child, recommended this book, and I have her to thank for it. Perry is a child psychiatrist/researcher who used this book to illustrate some his principles and findings regarding children who have suffered very difficult childhoods.
One chapter addresses how they addressed the needs of the Branch Davidian children during the seige and in the months thereafter and what they learned about children from that disaster. He talks about a two boys, one from a middle-class family and one from a poor family, with a mentally challenged mother, both of whom were left totally unattended during the first months of their lives and how it impacted their futures. Their needs for food and shelter were met, but they missed the warm touch and rhythm that comes from a care-giver who rocked and cooed to the children. There's the little girl who, despite her high caloric diet, failed to gain weight and was thought to be the first documented case of infant anorexia. As it turns out, her mother, who loved her dearly and sought help for her, had never been mothered herself as a child in the foster care system who had been moved every six months so that she wouldn't form any attachments. She didn't know how to form an attachment with her own daughter, and thus, the child failed to thrive. Mama P. was the answer--a foster parent who intuitively knew that damaged children need to be rocked and babied to make up for what they missed without concern for their chronological age.
And of course, there's the boy who was raised as a dog. After his grandmother died, her live-in boyfriend, who knew little about raising children, treated him like a dog. He wasn't cruel, he just failed to provide the boy with what he needed.
In short, the thesis of the book is the importance of patterned, repetitive conduct to help children form the attachments that they need to grow up to be healthy adults. In addition, he gives a glimpse in how he and those in his clinic go about helping children. He does a lot of coloring with the kids. It allows them to begin the therapy at their own pace.
Perry appears to be a phenomenal shrink, with uncommon insight. A bit arrogant, but with the intelligence and the success to back it up. Ultimately, the value comes in helping me to understand some of the things we've learned about the children we've fostered. Time well spent.
Sense and Sensibility. I did it! I finally finished this book, having started it a couple of times before becoming distracted during the first chapter. I liked it, but hadn't gotten far enough into it to feel compelled to finish it when life (and other books) got in the way. Anywho, I enjoyed it. Typical Jane Austen fare, where much of the tension centers around young women who must find a spouse or risk eternal vulnerability. And as is so often clear in JA books, even marriage is no guaranty of security, as Mrs. Dashwood finds out when her husband leaves the vast majority of his property to his son from his first marriage, notwithstanding that the son already has a house in London and is well-provided for, leaving his three daughters and their mother essentially without a home. Of course there is the rogue man (Willoughby) who toys with Maryann's affections. And in this book, we get the rogue female, if you will, in the form of Lucy Steele, who dashes Elinor's hopes for domestic happiness by disclosing that she is secretly engaged to Edward Ferrars, whom Elinor hoped to bag--I mean marry. It all works out in the end as both women end up with the right man--Ferrars in Elinor's case, and Col. Whathisface in Maryann's case. Elinor who is "sense" in the beginning becomes more sensible, and Maryann who is "sensibility" develops (finally) good sense. The one thing you can count on is that everyone will marry happily in the end, and have enough income to have servants. Life is good.
Emma. Yet another book that I started but only now finished. Poor (or rather rich), determined Emma, the neighborhood "matchmaker." Having fixed up her governess, she is convinced that she can do the same for Harriet, a girl with no known parentage and limited means. As one would expect, it all goes awry, to the despair of Harriet. And then there's Frank Churchill, whom Emma takes great delight in using him as her sounding board as she bad-mouths Jane Fairfax, of whom, at bottom, Emma is jealous of. What a surprise she ultimately has coming about the real deal between Jane Fairfax and Churchill. And although Emma is determined to remain single, in part to care for her invalid father, in the end, we know, it's JA! There will be a marriage, and in fact, there are three: Emma, Harriet, and Jane all find their true loves. And they're all going to be mostly fat and happy.
Having read two JABs back-to-back, I find myself torn about whether I like JA or not. I like the stories, and there are complex themes, and even a hint of feminism at times. JA was one of the gentry and her characters live in that world. The servants exist only to serve and to provide a tidbit of gossip from time-to-time. On the other hand, the portrait of the rich is not particularly complimentary. They sometimes come across as insensitive and self-centered, or even shallow--after all Frank Churchill rides off to London (16 miles!) simply to get a haircut. That's seems extreme even today! They mostly do nothing, except sitting around playing cards, eating, and gossiping. In the end, I like Jane Austen, but I feel like a traitor or an outsider. She didn't write about people like me by any stretch of a comparison. But I suppose I'll eventually read the only JA novel that remains to be read, i.e, Northanger Abbey. Indeed, I'll probably even re-read most if not all of them.
The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Dr. Bruce Perry. A friend, who adopted an older child, recommended this book, and I have her to thank for it. Perry is a child psychiatrist/researcher who used this book to illustrate some his principles and findings regarding children who have suffered very difficult childhoods.
One chapter addresses how they addressed the needs of the Branch Davidian children during the seige and in the months thereafter and what they learned about children from that disaster. He talks about a two boys, one from a middle-class family and one from a poor family, with a mentally challenged mother, both of whom were left totally unattended during the first months of their lives and how it impacted their futures. Their needs for food and shelter were met, but they missed the warm touch and rhythm that comes from a care-giver who rocked and cooed to the children. There's the little girl who, despite her high caloric diet, failed to gain weight and was thought to be the first documented case of infant anorexia. As it turns out, her mother, who loved her dearly and sought help for her, had never been mothered herself as a child in the foster care system who had been moved every six months so that she wouldn't form any attachments. She didn't know how to form an attachment with her own daughter, and thus, the child failed to thrive. Mama P. was the answer--a foster parent who intuitively knew that damaged children need to be rocked and babied to make up for what they missed without concern for their chronological age.
And of course, there's the boy who was raised as a dog. After his grandmother died, her live-in boyfriend, who knew little about raising children, treated him like a dog. He wasn't cruel, he just failed to provide the boy with what he needed.
In short, the thesis of the book is the importance of patterned, repetitive conduct to help children form the attachments that they need to grow up to be healthy adults. In addition, he gives a glimpse in how he and those in his clinic go about helping children. He does a lot of coloring with the kids. It allows them to begin the therapy at their own pace.
Perry appears to be a phenomenal shrink, with uncommon insight. A bit arrogant, but with the intelligence and the success to back it up. Ultimately, the value comes in helping me to understand some of the things we've learned about the children we've fostered. Time well spent.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Ending the year on serious note
The Emperor of All Maladies, by Siddhartha Mukharjee.
Can a book about cancer really be compelling without being depressing? Um, yeah. The New York Times listed this book as one of the best of 2010, so I figured why not. An biography of cancer--what an intriguing concept. And Mukharjee does recount cancer from its earliest known roots to the present day. It is, as any biogrpahy must be, a recount of history. But more than any biography of a living person, it is the science behind a living cell in which something has gone terribly wrong. Mukharjee recounts the theories over time that have explained cancer, from black bile to the current understanding of a cell mutation. Not surprising, treatment has changed as understading has grown. On the other hand, as much as scientists have learned, there is still so much not known or understood about cancers.
Perhaps the most startling thing is how much of what is conventional knowledge now has been discovered only within my lifetime. For example, until the 1960s, the deforming radical mastectomy was fairly standard treatment for all breast cancers, even though there'd been little to no research to confirm its effectiveness or even its necessity. Indeed, many of the research methods that are fairly common-place have been in use for only a relativly short time. For example, one expects that a cancer diagnosis today means surgery, followed immediately by a cocktail of different chemotherapy drugs and/or radiation. As I learned when reading Death Be Not Proud, chemotherapy had its genesis in WW2 and the experience with mustard gas. But for many years, there was an ongoing rivalry and lack of cooperation between surgeons, whose hubris made them unwilling to consider any other form of treatment beyond surgery, and oncologists. Plus, until recently, different treatments were tried serially, moving to the next one when treatment failed (e.g. surgery, followed by one chemo drug, followed by another chemo drug, etc.) Only recently have scientists really grasped that there is no cure for cancer, but there will have to be many cures for many different cancers.
In short, what becomes abundantly clear is that cancer is daunting. According to the author, 1 in 3 women and 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetimes. Gains have been made towards cure, but many people will still die after suffering through dibillitating treatment. But there is hope that with greater understanding of how cancer works, there will be other successes like Gleevic, used to put victims of chronic myeloma leukemia into permanent remission, and Herceptin, which cures those women with estrogen-dependent cancer.
It was a compelling book. I couldn't put it down.
Currently reading: Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen.
Can a book about cancer really be compelling without being depressing? Um, yeah. The New York Times listed this book as one of the best of 2010, so I figured why not. An biography of cancer--what an intriguing concept. And Mukharjee does recount cancer from its earliest known roots to the present day. It is, as any biogrpahy must be, a recount of history. But more than any biography of a living person, it is the science behind a living cell in which something has gone terribly wrong. Mukharjee recounts the theories over time that have explained cancer, from black bile to the current understanding of a cell mutation. Not surprising, treatment has changed as understading has grown. On the other hand, as much as scientists have learned, there is still so much not known or understood about cancers.
Perhaps the most startling thing is how much of what is conventional knowledge now has been discovered only within my lifetime. For example, until the 1960s, the deforming radical mastectomy was fairly standard treatment for all breast cancers, even though there'd been little to no research to confirm its effectiveness or even its necessity. Indeed, many of the research methods that are fairly common-place have been in use for only a relativly short time. For example, one expects that a cancer diagnosis today means surgery, followed immediately by a cocktail of different chemotherapy drugs and/or radiation. As I learned when reading Death Be Not Proud, chemotherapy had its genesis in WW2 and the experience with mustard gas. But for many years, there was an ongoing rivalry and lack of cooperation between surgeons, whose hubris made them unwilling to consider any other form of treatment beyond surgery, and oncologists. Plus, until recently, different treatments were tried serially, moving to the next one when treatment failed (e.g. surgery, followed by one chemo drug, followed by another chemo drug, etc.) Only recently have scientists really grasped that there is no cure for cancer, but there will have to be many cures for many different cancers.
In short, what becomes abundantly clear is that cancer is daunting. According to the author, 1 in 3 women and 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetimes. Gains have been made towards cure, but many people will still die after suffering through dibillitating treatment. But there is hope that with greater understanding of how cancer works, there will be other successes like Gleevic, used to put victims of chronic myeloma leukemia into permanent remission, and Herceptin, which cures those women with estrogen-dependent cancer.
It was a compelling book. I couldn't put it down.
Currently reading: Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Playing Catch-up, part 2
Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson. As a seventh-grader, I thought this book was just okay. After all, it was originally characterized as a book for boys. And as a seventh-grader, I knew far too little about character development. Therefore, Long John Silver was simply a "bad guy."
As an adult, I still wouldn't count it among my favorite books, but I have greater appreciation for the story and the character development. Jim Hawkins, a boy who becomes a man as he truly becomes the man of the house, following his father's death, as he embarks on the grand adventure in search of treasure. Long John Silver, who could be charming and devious; resourceful and deceptive. What might have happened to Silver after his grand escape.
A relatively quick read. But before I leave it, I do have at least one question: what right did Dr. Livesy and Squire Trelawney have to take a share of the treasure? Shouldn't Jim (or his mother) made a conscious decision about who to trust? Shouldn't there have been some negotiation about the percentage (if any) the others would take? Maybe a flat fee would have been more appropriate. Maybe it's just the lawyer in me, but seems a little sketchy to me.
Now to consider what to read next. Sense and Sensibility? A Reliable Wife? Something else?
As an adult, I still wouldn't count it among my favorite books, but I have greater appreciation for the story and the character development. Jim Hawkins, a boy who becomes a man as he truly becomes the man of the house, following his father's death, as he embarks on the grand adventure in search of treasure. Long John Silver, who could be charming and devious; resourceful and deceptive. What might have happened to Silver after his grand escape.
A relatively quick read. But before I leave it, I do have at least one question: what right did Dr. Livesy and Squire Trelawney have to take a share of the treasure? Shouldn't Jim (or his mother) made a conscious decision about who to trust? Shouldn't there have been some negotiation about the percentage (if any) the others would take? Maybe a flat fee would have been more appropriate. Maybe it's just the lawyer in me, but seems a little sketchy to me.
Now to consider what to read next. Sense and Sensibility? A Reliable Wife? Something else?
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Playing Catch-up
A Confederacy of Dunces, by O'Toole. Knock another book off of the "to read" stack. This book made its way to the stack as the result of a Brian's recommendation during a visit to his favorite DC bookstore. it languished on the stack until in need of something to spend an Audible credit on, and wanting to add another Pulitzer prize winner to my list, I got an audio version. Probably a good thing that I did. As it turns out, this book did not hold a lot of natural attaction for me, and I probably would have given up if I'd simply read it. On the other hand, the performance by the reader of this book brought the characters to life and made me care enough about them to finish the book even though at times I had doubts.
To be honest, there were some funny moments, not gut-splitting moments, but milk-sputtering moments to be sure. On the other hand, this was one of those books that seems to be at a loss for a story line until the end. I tend to be a bit impatient with such books, and to some extent, I was so with this book. But was it worth getting to the very end? I'd say so, with a resounding yes. Ultimately, the little vignettes were woven into a story that had a nicely wrapped happy ending, and the stories were accurate depictions of a hundred little absurdities that one either knows or strongly suspects that occur every day.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte.
Having just re-read Jane Eyre, it seemed only fitting that I should read Wuthering Heights for the first time. If Charlotte could write such a good story, maybe there was something to Emily? Plus, so many people love this book that it was time to give it a try again. Yes, this too, is one of those books that I started, but then gave up on for failure to pay close enough attention to follow the plot.
I don't know what was so difficult about following the story. Yes, there were two Catherines. Yes, there was lots of intermarrying between the two main families: Catherine Earnshaw (Catherrine Sr.) marrying Edgar Linton, begetting Catherine Linton; Isabella Linton, marrying Heathcliff, the orphan, and begetting the frail, whiny Linton Heathcliff; Hindley Earnshaw, and his short-lived wife begetting Hareton Earnshaw; and finally, Catherine Jr. marrying Linton (her first cousin), only to later fall in love with and marry Hareton (her other first cousin). Whew!!
The story revolves around the undefineable relationship between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, but forces converge to deny Heathcliff the love of his life and respect because of his low-birth. He leaves the moors to return a "gentleman" and embarks on a bloodless vendetta that would make Don Corleone rethink his bloody ways. Resentful of the way Hindley relegated him to the station of a servant, Heathcliff manages to succeed to title to Wuthering Heights, including Hindley's son, Hareton. Next up, he's out to get Edgar Linton, for marrying Catherine and for denying him visits to Thrushcross Grange. Isabella, you ignorant slut! You've been punked in the worst kind of way. Duped into marrying Heathcliff when you should have known of his obsession with Catherine Earnshaw.
As if marrying Edgar's sister wasn't enough, now to really stick it to Edgar: gaining (collecting, if you will), Catherine Linton, by forcing her to marry her little whiney-butt cousin, Linton, as her father lay dying. With the marriage, and Edgar's death, and Linton's death, Heathcliff gets Thrushcross Grange too. He who dies with the most property wins?
Anyway, in the end, there's some redemption of sort as finally Heathcliff seems to soften as he nears death and Catherine and Hareton seem to to represent a redemption of civility themselves. Hareton, who has grown up with little guidance to smooth his rough edges is finally accepted by Catherine, who initially can't see such a rough creature as Hareton as any relation of hers.
Anywho, it all wraps up well in the end. As with Jane Eyre, you can see the Biblical themes in the story, likely a result of the Brontes' father's profession as a minister.
I liked this book.
Still need to address: Treasure Island.
To be honest, there were some funny moments, not gut-splitting moments, but milk-sputtering moments to be sure. On the other hand, this was one of those books that seems to be at a loss for a story line until the end. I tend to be a bit impatient with such books, and to some extent, I was so with this book. But was it worth getting to the very end? I'd say so, with a resounding yes. Ultimately, the little vignettes were woven into a story that had a nicely wrapped happy ending, and the stories were accurate depictions of a hundred little absurdities that one either knows or strongly suspects that occur every day.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte.
Having just re-read Jane Eyre, it seemed only fitting that I should read Wuthering Heights for the first time. If Charlotte could write such a good story, maybe there was something to Emily? Plus, so many people love this book that it was time to give it a try again. Yes, this too, is one of those books that I started, but then gave up on for failure to pay close enough attention to follow the plot.
I don't know what was so difficult about following the story. Yes, there were two Catherines. Yes, there was lots of intermarrying between the two main families: Catherine Earnshaw (Catherrine Sr.) marrying Edgar Linton, begetting Catherine Linton; Isabella Linton, marrying Heathcliff, the orphan, and begetting the frail, whiny Linton Heathcliff; Hindley Earnshaw, and his short-lived wife begetting Hareton Earnshaw; and finally, Catherine Jr. marrying Linton (her first cousin), only to later fall in love with and marry Hareton (her other first cousin). Whew!!
The story revolves around the undefineable relationship between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, but forces converge to deny Heathcliff the love of his life and respect because of his low-birth. He leaves the moors to return a "gentleman" and embarks on a bloodless vendetta that would make Don Corleone rethink his bloody ways. Resentful of the way Hindley relegated him to the station of a servant, Heathcliff manages to succeed to title to Wuthering Heights, including Hindley's son, Hareton. Next up, he's out to get Edgar Linton, for marrying Catherine and for denying him visits to Thrushcross Grange. Isabella, you ignorant slut! You've been punked in the worst kind of way. Duped into marrying Heathcliff when you should have known of his obsession with Catherine Earnshaw.
As if marrying Edgar's sister wasn't enough, now to really stick it to Edgar: gaining (collecting, if you will), Catherine Linton, by forcing her to marry her little whiney-butt cousin, Linton, as her father lay dying. With the marriage, and Edgar's death, and Linton's death, Heathcliff gets Thrushcross Grange too. He who dies with the most property wins?
Anyway, in the end, there's some redemption of sort as finally Heathcliff seems to soften as he nears death and Catherine and Hareton seem to to represent a redemption of civility themselves. Hareton, who has grown up with little guidance to smooth his rough edges is finally accepted by Catherine, who initially can't see such a rough creature as Hareton as any relation of hers.
Anywho, it all wraps up well in the end. As with Jane Eyre, you can see the Biblical themes in the story, likely a result of the Brontes' father's profession as a minister.
I liked this book.
Still need to address: Treasure Island.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Don't forget
Finished:
Wuthering Heights
A Conferderacy of Dunces
Reading:
Treasure Island
The Emperor of All Maladies
Wuthering Heights
A Conferderacy of Dunces
Reading:
Treasure Island
The Emperor of All Maladies
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Time flies
Has it really been more than a month since I posted? I've been busy reading, but don't seem to have much to show for it.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. It's been about 10 years since I read this book for the first time. I enjoyed it then, but only now do I realize how much I missed. I had only just started my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth, so I just wasn't as good--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Anyway, I missed (or didn't remember) how much of an independent thinker Jane was and how she differed so from the other women of her time. Was it the time spent at the Lowood School such that she missed learning how Victorian women were supposed to act? Or was it just part of her personality, as was clear in the early chapters when she still resided with the Reeds? One thing is clear that many women today could learn a thing or two from Jane. How many women, given the chance to travel and live as the kept woman of a rich man, would have gladly become his mistress? Heck, many women are willing to give it up for a whole lot less.
Okay, enough sermonizing, I enjoyed re-reading this book. Well-written--so descriptive that I could feel Jane's misery as she wandered around hungry and homeless after fleeing Rochester's house.
I'm glad I re-read it.
When the Game Was Ours, by Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. I'm not sure why I selected this book--sports memoirs aren't my cup of tea, but I'm glad I did. I remember the NCAA Final between Michigan State and Indiana State. I remember many of the NBA Championship games between the Lakers and the Celtics. I remember the Magic/Bird rivalry. So it was fun to be reminded of those games.
But there was lots I didn't know (of course). That Bird and Magic both anticipated and wanted the match-ups, and that each haunted the dreams/nightmares of the other was a surprise. That they had actually been teammates on the World Invitational Team during college was interesting. How they ultimately became re-acquainted and sowed the seed for their friendship, during the shooting of a Converse commercial, was intriguing.
Of course, the book couldn't have been complete without a recount of Magic's HIV+ saga. Maybe the back-story has been available, but I didn't know it. It's easy to forget how much of a death sentence HIV+ status used to be. Twenty years ago, the only question for those with HIV was how long before, (as the Rent line goes) "the virus takes hold." The fear and the ignorance is a thing of the past, for the most part, at least in this country.
Any good book should inspire a desire to learn more or do something more. I'd like to go back and review some of those games from the Magic/Bird era. It was a different game then--one where the star players played for the benefit of the team rather than their stardom. When the game was theirs, it was a different game.
It was a book well worth my time.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. It's been about 10 years since I read this book for the first time. I enjoyed it then, but only now do I realize how much I missed. I had only just started my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth, so I just wasn't as good--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Anyway, I missed (or didn't remember) how much of an independent thinker Jane was and how she differed so from the other women of her time. Was it the time spent at the Lowood School such that she missed learning how Victorian women were supposed to act? Or was it just part of her personality, as was clear in the early chapters when she still resided with the Reeds? One thing is clear that many women today could learn a thing or two from Jane. How many women, given the chance to travel and live as the kept woman of a rich man, would have gladly become his mistress? Heck, many women are willing to give it up for a whole lot less.
Okay, enough sermonizing, I enjoyed re-reading this book. Well-written--so descriptive that I could feel Jane's misery as she wandered around hungry and homeless after fleeing Rochester's house.
I'm glad I re-read it.
When the Game Was Ours, by Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. I'm not sure why I selected this book--sports memoirs aren't my cup of tea, but I'm glad I did. I remember the NCAA Final between Michigan State and Indiana State. I remember many of the NBA Championship games between the Lakers and the Celtics. I remember the Magic/Bird rivalry. So it was fun to be reminded of those games.
But there was lots I didn't know (of course). That Bird and Magic both anticipated and wanted the match-ups, and that each haunted the dreams/nightmares of the other was a surprise. That they had actually been teammates on the World Invitational Team during college was interesting. How they ultimately became re-acquainted and sowed the seed for their friendship, during the shooting of a Converse commercial, was intriguing.
Of course, the book couldn't have been complete without a recount of Magic's HIV+ saga. Maybe the back-story has been available, but I didn't know it. It's easy to forget how much of a death sentence HIV+ status used to be. Twenty years ago, the only question for those with HIV was how long before, (as the Rent line goes) "the virus takes hold." The fear and the ignorance is a thing of the past, for the most part, at least in this country.
Any good book should inspire a desire to learn more or do something more. I'd like to go back and review some of those games from the Magic/Bird era. It was a different game then--one where the star players played for the benefit of the team rather than their stardom. When the game was theirs, it was a different game.
It was a book well worth my time.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Slow to post, but busy reading
King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard. This was part of B&N's free classics Fridays during the summer. Having seen the mid-80s movie, with Richard Chamberlain, and hating it, I had little interest in reading the book, but the reviews suggested it was a good and quick read, so what the heck. No question: it was far better than the movie. What is less clear in my own mind is whether I liked it or not. It was suspenseful and there were exciting parts. But the treatment of the African characters in the book made me a tad uncomfortable. On the one hand, these Europeans, who have already profited from the plundering of the African nations are looking to profit even more by locating "King Solomon's mines." They tend to have a superiority complex, expecting that the Africans, in their own nation, should be deferential to the white man, i.e. that they should know their place. This is evident when they meet their guide, as they go in search for the mines and one of the European's missing brother, who also went in search of the mines. One of the natives, enlisted to help with the excursion, is essentially described in terms that today would make him sound uppity.
On the other hand, when the Europeans get drawn into a battle to restore the rightful king of one the tribes, there is a degree of respect for this same servant, who turns out is the rightful king. One of the Europeans ultimately falls in love with one of the beautiful natives and is heartbroken when she dies. Of course, her death provides an escape from the issues that would have existed with this interracial love affair.
Ultimately, they find the mines only to come close to being trapped for all time. They barely escape with their lives and only a few gems--enough to make them rich. So maybe all's well that ends well.
Either way, I simply tried to enjoy the book for the story and the adventure and to recognize that Haggard was a product of his times. The views on race were radically different then as compared to now, and in truth, he was probably a bit more progressive for his time than most of his era.
,
Room, by Emma Donahue. Imagine being the offspring of a woman, who was abducted and imprisoned for seven years, and her assailant. Imagine further spending the first five years of ones life in a 11 x 11 room. The only thing that is real is what's in that room. "Outside" and the things on TV aren't real. In Room, it's easy to believe that Baby Jesus and Dora the Explorer are pals. That is the premise of Room.
The story is told in first person by five year old Jack. His mother, lured by her abductor, gives birth to him in Room and creates a world that to him is as normal to him as living in the 'burbs is to my kids. Jack and Ma ultimately succeed in tricking "Old Nick" and escaping. For the first time Jack learns that "outside" really exists. Ice cream exists; grass exists; other children exist, and so on. An Ma discovers that dealing with "outside" after such a long captivity poses its own problems.
Good story, which surely must have been inspired in part by the Jacie Dugard case, in which a little girl is kidnapped and kept for some 15 years or so, and gives birth to two of her abductor's children. Donahue does a fantastic job of describing the world through the eyes of a child who has lived an extraordinary existence. It dragged a bit in the middle after the suspense of the great escape. In the end, however, it is one of those books, like The Giver that forces me to view the world through different eyes.
Reading: Madame Bovary
Re-reading: Jane Eyre
On the other hand, when the Europeans get drawn into a battle to restore the rightful king of one the tribes, there is a degree of respect for this same servant, who turns out is the rightful king. One of the Europeans ultimately falls in love with one of the beautiful natives and is heartbroken when she dies. Of course, her death provides an escape from the issues that would have existed with this interracial love affair.
Ultimately, they find the mines only to come close to being trapped for all time. They barely escape with their lives and only a few gems--enough to make them rich. So maybe all's well that ends well.
Either way, I simply tried to enjoy the book for the story and the adventure and to recognize that Haggard was a product of his times. The views on race were radically different then as compared to now, and in truth, he was probably a bit more progressive for his time than most of his era.
,
Room, by Emma Donahue. Imagine being the offspring of a woman, who was abducted and imprisoned for seven years, and her assailant. Imagine further spending the first five years of ones life in a 11 x 11 room. The only thing that is real is what's in that room. "Outside" and the things on TV aren't real. In Room, it's easy to believe that Baby Jesus and Dora the Explorer are pals. That is the premise of Room.
The story is told in first person by five year old Jack. His mother, lured by her abductor, gives birth to him in Room and creates a world that to him is as normal to him as living in the 'burbs is to my kids. Jack and Ma ultimately succeed in tricking "Old Nick" and escaping. For the first time Jack learns that "outside" really exists. Ice cream exists; grass exists; other children exist, and so on. An Ma discovers that dealing with "outside" after such a long captivity poses its own problems.
Good story, which surely must have been inspired in part by the Jacie Dugard case, in which a little girl is kidnapped and kept for some 15 years or so, and gives birth to two of her abductor's children. Donahue does a fantastic job of describing the world through the eyes of a child who has lived an extraordinary existence. It dragged a bit in the middle after the suspense of the great escape. In the end, however, it is one of those books, like The Giver that forces me to view the world through different eyes.
Reading: Madame Bovary
Re-reading: Jane Eyre
Friday, October 8, 2010
A Keeper
The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins. After languishing on the "buy" list for probably two years or so, this book can be officially moved to the "read it" side of the ledger. I listened to parts and read parts, and enjoyed it immensely.
The Woman in White: is she a ghost? As it turns out, no. Just a sad character who meets a sad ending. But from the first of this tale, told from different perspectives by those who have first hand knowledge, like a trial (which I can appreciate), the tale winds through a labrynth of shady characters and vulnerable, though aristocratic women, with a sprinkling of second-class women, in service, to care for those aristocratic women.
Wilkie's character development is fantastic. Apparently, some reviews of the story at the time of its publication were critical, accusing Collins of creating flat characters whose only purpose was to carry the plot forward. What book were they were reading?? The pernicioulsy evil Count Fosco? Weak, self-centered Mr. Fairlie (the "invalid")? Staunchly loyal Marian Halcomb? Laura, Lady Glyde, is a little flat, but wasn't that the point? A beautiful, wealthy, young women whose main value lay her money, her ability to bear an heir, and maybe her connections. In those days women were not encouraged to be more than eye candy or maybe sources for entertainment if they could sing or play piano, but ultimately dependent on their fathers (or a proxy thereof) until they married, at which time they became entirely dependent on their husbands. And of course, these rich, idle women had little incentive to be otherwise.
In the end, Collins created a deliciously suspenseful book that was worth the time. Perhaps there is a sadness in knowing that were the story written today, there'd be no story: one quick buccal swab would clarify much of the mystery, and the rest wouldn't matter. Progress, right?
The Woman in White: is she a ghost? As it turns out, no. Just a sad character who meets a sad ending. But from the first of this tale, told from different perspectives by those who have first hand knowledge, like a trial (which I can appreciate), the tale winds through a labrynth of shady characters and vulnerable, though aristocratic women, with a sprinkling of second-class women, in service, to care for those aristocratic women.
Wilkie's character development is fantastic. Apparently, some reviews of the story at the time of its publication were critical, accusing Collins of creating flat characters whose only purpose was to carry the plot forward. What book were they were reading?? The pernicioulsy evil Count Fosco? Weak, self-centered Mr. Fairlie (the "invalid")? Staunchly loyal Marian Halcomb? Laura, Lady Glyde, is a little flat, but wasn't that the point? A beautiful, wealthy, young women whose main value lay her money, her ability to bear an heir, and maybe her connections. In those days women were not encouraged to be more than eye candy or maybe sources for entertainment if they could sing or play piano, but ultimately dependent on their fathers (or a proxy thereof) until they married, at which time they became entirely dependent on their husbands. And of course, these rich, idle women had little incentive to be otherwise.
In the end, Collins created a deliciously suspenseful book that was worth the time. Perhaps there is a sadness in knowing that were the story written today, there'd be no story: one quick buccal swab would clarify much of the mystery, and the rest wouldn't matter. Progress, right?
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Tragic ending, to state the obvious
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, by Victor Hugo. I continue my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth. Add another to the list. Quite simply, I enjoyed this book, despite that it did not have the happy ending that, as an American, I guess I crave. Humans are shallow now, and humans were shallow then, as Esmerelda so clearly illustrates. Beauty--and ugly--are only skin deep, yet Esmerelda can't look past either Quasimodo's fugly exterior or Phoebus's pretty-boy looks to see the truth about either of them.
Some priests are depraved now, and some priests were depraved then. Exhibit A, the bishop, guilty of both attempted kidnap and attempted rape, and cruelly able to send Esmerelda to her death because he couldn't have her.
Some individuals hurt themselves with their prejudices today; the samewas true back then. Look to Sister Gedulla for proof. If only she hadn't spent virtually her whole life, blinded by her hatred for gypsies, she might have seen that the Esmerelda, the "gypsy", was actually the daughter she long sought to find.
And life's choices are hard. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Pick up the one and leave the other behind . . . And so it was for Quasimodo. There could be no happiness in either choice.
Listening to: The Woman in White.
Reading: The Jungle?? Haven't decided yet.
Some priests are depraved now, and some priests were depraved then. Exhibit A, the bishop, guilty of both attempted kidnap and attempted rape, and cruelly able to send Esmerelda to her death because he couldn't have her.
Some individuals hurt themselves with their prejudices today; the samewas true back then. Look to Sister Gedulla for proof. If only she hadn't spent virtually her whole life, blinded by her hatred for gypsies, she might have seen that the Esmerelda, the "gypsy", was actually the daughter she long sought to find.
And life's choices are hard. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Pick up the one and leave the other behind . . . And so it was for Quasimodo. There could be no happiness in either choice.
Listening to: The Woman in White.
Reading: The Jungle?? Haven't decided yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)