Apollo's Angels: A History of Ballet

Ballet was a huge part of my life up until high school. I learned grace, discipline and French. I made friends I still have. After reading a review of Apollo's Angels: A History of Ballet by Jennifer Homans I knew I had to read the book, even though it is 600+ pages.
Ms. Homans traces ballet and dance from the 18th century through contemporary times as a party of larger world history. Ballet was important pre and post French Revolution and some of the greatest celebrities were defectors from the USSR (remember Baryshnikov in Sex and the City?). She reminds us that ballet stars influenced culture and although we might think it elite and esoteric today, there have been times when dancers and choreographers risked their lives for it. This volume is well edited, with facts and pictures. Dance is also ephemeral: of the hundreds of ballets Balanchine choreographed, for example, only a handful are remembered.
Ms. Homans ends the tome believing that ballet is dying. She argues there are no true stars and it doesn't have the same influence as in the past. But I disagree. Last night I sat on the Esplanade and listened to the Landmarks Orchestra perform Tchaikovsky, with members of the Boston Ballet dancing parts of The Nutcracker, Swan Lake and The Sleeping Beauty. And there was a crowd of people with me. And what about shows like, Dancing with the Stars? And the Zumba craze? Maybe not ballet, but people love dance and I'm not ready to give up on it.
This book took me months to read, but it was worth it. 5/5 netflix stars.

Land of Marvels

I've been wanting to be more involved in my immediate community, so I joined a JP Book Group. I thought it would be nice to get to know some more people in my neighborhood and read some different books.  The focus of my long-running friend book group has always been less on reading and more on getting together to catch up, so I also felt obligated to read this book.

Land of Marvels by Barry Unsworth was quite the challenge.  It seemed promising-- a group of archaelogists in the early 1920s in what is now Iraq searching for treasure-- both ancient and modern (oil).  But I found myself scanning over paragraphs and easily falling asleep.  The evening of the meeting I raced home to finish reading it (close, but no cigar!) and felt the dread of having to go to class without my homework done.  As it turned out, they were a nice enough group and nearly all agreed that it wasn't the best read.  There were also two guys, which was interesting.  We sat in the Jame's Gate and had food and beer.

I finished the book that night and would say that if you can make it through the first 2/3rds of the book, the last 1/3rd is worth it.  But if historical fiction isn't your thing, I'd skip this in favor of something else.

Netflix stars 2/5

The Help and Strength in What Remains

The Revolutions of 1989 were by and large bloodless; the Velvet Revolution, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the revolutions of other Eastern Bloc countries resulted in the end of Communism and peaceful transfer of power. Twenty years before that Dr. Martin Luther King epitomized the non-violent struggle for civil rights.  The Help by Kathryn Stockett describes the stories of three women: one privileged white woman who along with two African American maids work together to tell the stories of behind the scenes lives, and in the process create a non-violent revolution in Jackson, Mississippi.  Each woman makes personal sacrifices for the greater good-- even though at the time they have no idea what that good will be.  Ms. Stockett tells the story of The Help in three viewpoints-- Skeeter's, Aibileen's and Minny's.  Each woman has a personal impetus to enact change, but what's amazing is how the three of them come to work together.
The revolutions of 1989 were not all peaceful. Tianamen Square took place that summer.  Likewise, 1994 brought about revolutions too. The very violent kind.  Extreme poverty for the majority and extreme wealth for the minority set the catalyst for the ethic genocides in Burundi and Rwanda.  Tracy Kidder relays Deo's story in Strength in What Remains.  Similar to What is the What, Deo miraculously flees Burundi and lands in New York with $200, no place to live and barely understanding a word of English.  Within five years he's enrolled at Columbia and soon after that, Dartmouth Medical School.  Mr. Kidder relays Deo's story in a series of viewpoints also.  He writes as a journalist, telling Deo's history as Deo remembers it.  Then he tells the history of the country, so the reader can better understand how events took a turn from the worse, and finally, he tells his story: how he met Deo and his impressions of him and his relationship to him and their return together to Burundi.  Mr. Kidder's document seemed a more complete story than What is the What.
In The Help, Skeeter is amazed that Aibileen is such a voracious reader, and that other maids who work for her friends have gone to college and aspire to send their children to college.  Many of white women Skeeter is friends with cannot see past the color and occupation of their maids.  But what surprised me was that Deo's story in New York was similar.  He'd come from being an intern at a hospital in Burundi to being a grocery delivery boy who made $15 a week in New York.  Just as the family Aibileen works for dehumanizes her by not even allowing her to use a bathroom in the house, Deo's employer literally pokes him with a stick to make him work.
Both books are good reminders that revolutions are, and should be, dynamic and constant.  I give both 5/5 netflix stars.

The Thoreau You Don't Know: What The Prophet of Environmentalism Really Meant

Having friends whose babies are learning to talk, I asked my mom what my first word was.  Her response? "Thoreau".  You might think from this that my parents were hippies, that they were social dissidents or that I was born to recluses in a cabin in the woods.  Or you might think I listened to "Walden" nightly while in my mom's womb.  Whatever you might think, it's probably wrong.  And that's why Robert Sullivan wrote The Thoreau You Don't Know: What The Prophet of Environmentalism Really Meant.  He wants to expand on the Thoreau we all know from reading excerpts of Walden in high school.  He wants to prove that Thoreau wasn't just an old curmudgeon.

The Thoreau You Don't Know is a very accessible biography of a now lauded American citizen.  Sullivan tells us that Thoreau was critical of society while also striving to make it better.  He came from a family of hard workers and was a successful business man (pencils!)-- not a lazy good-for-nothing bumming around in the woods.  He aimed to be a writer and a poet while knowing that it might not pay the bills-- and so supplemented his writing by doing chores for Emerson, teaching and even bringing in income from his bean crops at Walden.

Sullivan's love for Thoreau became my love for Thoreau.  I can't help but smile knowing that all his actions and his life's work were deliberate-- even if unpopular at the time (after his death a friend said he loved Thoreau, but didn't like him).  He only lived to be 45, but did so much-- and often did it with a sense of humor.  Sullivan reports that he spoke with humor and irony.

We know the Thoreau who coined the term "succession" and the Thoreau who inspired Dr. Martin Luther King.  But The Thoreau We Don't Know was also a product of his time-- a time of progression and societal change.  Sullivan shows us that Thoreau.

I give this book 4/5 netflix stars. 

And if you're curious why my first word was Thoreau?  Thoreau was the name of our family dog!

Spice: The History of a Temptation

The new school year is here! I can almost smell the fresh pencils and pink erasers and can hear the crackle of a brand new text book being opened for the first time. It's a time of optimism and new goals and fresh starts. Which is why it's so hard for me to say this...I gave up on a book.

I'm a good student-- I've only missed one book club in the past 7 years and have read all the books (with the exception of one that I couldn't finish: Barbara Kingsolver's Small Wonder, because I thought she came off as a know-it-all, condescending smarty-pants). I like to give everyone's book a chance, even though we had one member (with a PhD-- you know who you are!) who consistently chose tedious and difficult subject books. In general, if I read a book I wouldn't normally choose, at least I feel I've gained something I wouldn't have otherwise.

Spice: The History of Temptation by Jack Turner sounded promising. It's a historical book-- not something I'd normally pick-- but drew rave reviews on the back cover as well as on Amazon. As soon as I started reading, I was reminded of school...remember how every year in elementary school you'd learn about Columbus and De Soto, etc, etc? Surely, I thought, this would be an introduction and the fascinating parts would be forthcoming. And to an extent, it did get better. I learned that spices were used to preserve food and bodies and were used as displays of wealth and aristocracy. Turner used no shortage of examples and I would find myself skimming through yet another medicinal example of peppercorns and their various uses.

I tried to give this book my all. I took it on an airplane and I even re-checked it out from the library. But it made me sleepy. This book is clearly a labor of love for Turner, and perhaps readers who have a greater interest in history would enjoy this. In fact, I'm willing to take the blame for this. Perhaps I've been dumbed down by reading Twilight and Harry Potter and watching marathons of Project Runway. But I have to be honest and give this book 1 out of 5 netflix stars.

American Wife and The Wordy Shipmates

Periodically I'll put in requests for books at the public library and if the books are "best sellers" I might be number 80 on the list. I don't mind waiting, but invariably what happens is that all the books will arrive at the same time. So a couple weeks ago I got notification that American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld had arrived along with a fellow blogger's recommendation for The Wordy Shipmates, by Sarah Vowell. With limited time to read both, I shoved my New Yorkers to the side and plowed in. Fortunately I was sick for a few days so could only read and watch KU basketball on the couch. More importantly, I realized these books are nice complements to each other.

The Wordy Shipmates is Sarah Vowell's research on the origins of American settlers in New England and American Wife is a fictionalized life story of Laura Bush (Alice Blackwell in the book)-- in short, these two books are bookends on American History.

Ms. Sittenfeld creates a thoughtful and sympathetic portrait of an average American woman. Alice grows up in a small town in Wisconsin and leads what anyone would consider a fairly ordinary life from the outside. She attends public school, goes to church, interacts with her neighbors, and has a best friend. Her dad works at a bank and her mom stays at home. Her grandma is the spunky antithesis of "normalcy"-- she provides the inspiration for Alice's lifelong liberal leanings. When Alice falls for Charlie Blackwell, a son from a strong and old Republican family, they are still years away from Charlie becoming president (based on W.). Alice is confident she and Charlie can keep their politics separate and to an extent they do, but she does find that her mores and ethics are often at odds with Charlie's public persona. She maintains a fine line between her personal feelings and public face.

Alice's conflict can directly be traced back to the 1630s. In school we learned that the Pilgrims came from England for religious freedom. That's part of the story. Ms. Vowell explains that they were all for religious freedom as long as they all adhered to an agreed upon set of rules. Sound familiar? She gives us the backstory on the founding of different colonies and the seemingly petty disagreements that led to vicious attacks on American Indians, multiple banishments of colonists and beheadings of those who disagreed with the King(s) of England. I liked Ms. Vowell's account of this history because she writes with humor and personal insight and honestly loves our founding fathers (and mothers) despite, and because of, their shortcomings. She cringes when Anne Hutchinson shoots herself in the foot and rolls her eyes at Winthrop's and Williams' disagreements. But she never apologizes for being American-- she loves America.

Both of these books were so well written and edited. They were both worth the wait, and even the $0.60 fine I'll pay for finishing The Wordy Shipmates after its due date.

5/5 netflix stars to each.