A Gate at the Stairs

The past seven or eight years have brought a host of post-9/11 novels. Some are good, some are bad. I like that most maintain the delicate balance of public tragedy and a new world order with people who still need to live their lives. A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore seems to almost privatize the public and publicize the private.  So I've been processing it the past couple days and am still not sure what I think.
Tassie is the protagonist; a good, Midwestern girl entering her sophomore year of college as 9/11 takes place.  She takes it in stride, instead worrying about what any 20 year old would worry about-- finding a job and finding a boyfriend.  She takes a job as a nanny for a bourgeois yet very liberal older couple who are adopting.  Sarah and Edward bring Tassie along to meet various birth mothers and finally end up with a mixed race 2-year old.  From here the story takes off: Sarah becomes a mouthpiece for every liberal stereotype-- she worries about Emmie facing racism and so forms a support group of like minded (sometimes) parents.  But as Tassie brings Emmie everywhere, she bears the brunt of public reaction-- is she the young mom?  The baby daddy must be black (bringing positive and negative reaction).  She absorbs it and meanders between her Sufism class and her boyfriend's (of dubious heritage and ethnicity himself) house, all the while forgetting that her younger brother is threatening to join the army after graduating high school.
A Gate at the Stairs is dialogue rich and Tassie's carte blanche viewpoint makes us realize our culpability with so many pre and post-9/11 social issues.  It's a compelling read and a great way to get back into novels after reading so much non-fiction.  It raises questions without providing answers. 
This is a vague review...readers and comments welcome!
Netflix stars: 4/5

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!

A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen

"She makes cookies with Leslie Fretwell!"

"I think her prom date was Billy Bozalis, Lisa's little brother."

Above, just a few of the excited emails between my mother and me regarding Molly Wizenberg's delightful book, A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen Table.

Of the four cities I've lived in, Molly writes about the two which we overlap-- Oklahoma City and Seattle. And being a third generation Oklahoman, I eagerly picked apart the clues to places and faces she referenced. She writes about running through the yards at the Oklahoma Art Museum's summer jazz concerts (which caused me to call my mom squealing, since I did that too!) and her references to school prompted me to contact my Oklahoma friends, and sure enough, she attended the same school as me! (Although she must have been at least a year behind me).

She also writes about never feeling quite comfortable in Oklahoma and packing her bags at 18, nary a plan to move back. Sounded familiar.

I had my doubts before starting this book. Sometimes bloggers are good at blogging but not so good at writing (and vice versa). It's two different mediums. And sometimes memoris devolve into rants. Would Molly's witty posts about food translate to a book format? Indeed, yes. The book was a narrative and memoir of sorts, detailing her life leading up to her father's death, and her life since. She moved and started blogging just after, so Burg's death was a key point in her life in many ways. Each chapter is a short story about her life and then includes an accessible recipe-- perhaps macaroons or cookies her mom makes, or perhaps the chocolate cake she serves at her wedding. She includes recipes like Chana Masala introduced to her by her now husband, Brandon and salads shared with friends.

Her stories are bittersweet, honest, funny. A rare combination. If, like me, you don't actually know Molly, but feel like you do or feel like you want to, there's a recipe for that: read, relax, enjoy.

5/5 netflix stars (I'm either really loving or really hating books these days).

New Moon

I was told it wasn't good. Even by people who enjoy the series, I was told this particular book was bad. My sister thought I shouldn't read it because Edward's departure would trigger unhappy personal memories. My coworkers thought it focussed too much on Jacob.

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer.

Here's what I liked: an accurate portrayal of grief following abandonment. Bella gets through each day by sheer force of will. Her friends being likewise 17 and 18 have little patience for this and soon give up on her. Jacob. He's 15 and is characterized like a 15 year old. He's got a crush on Bella but can still relate to her as a friend.

Here's what I didn't like: Edward. (It's true, I'm Team Jacob!). You'd think after 110 years he'd know that just leaving an 18 year old-- the day after her birthday no less-- would be unkind to say the least. The writing and editing. It was bad. If I'm going to read these kind of books, I need to read them fast! There are award winners and classics out there to read and I'm not getting any younger...Then again, if I were immortal I could read them all. Alice?

Netflix stars 2/5

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.

Rag and Bone: A Journey Among The World's Holy Dead

A little over a year ago, my sister Liz took me to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. It's off the beaten track of the other monuments in DC and there's nothing much else out there. But we were curious and we like churches. The Basilica was immense and sparkling and to two non-Catholics, daunting. We opted for the tour. Our guide explained statues and histories of saints and took us into special alcoves and soon we all lined up to view the relic. Maybe it was a bone fragment; I can't recall. But we all moved in a circle to get a glimpse.

Peter Manseau tells similar stories of viewing relics the world over in Rag and Bone: A Journey Among the World's Holy Dead. His interest is that of a layperson, like myself. He's not someone who has a strong religious attachment to the relics he visits themselves, but is curious about how the affect so many people, and on some level, are common to all the world's religions. He visits India, Israel, Pakistan, Syria and interacts with Jews, Catholics and Muslims. He describes a brief history of each of the relics he visits-- most are dubiously authentic but have at any rate suffered indignities and brutalities post mortem that sometimes exceed the violence experienced by the living person. And he usually speaks with the caretakers of the relics and/or shrines. He meets a nun whose personal life was marked by so many violent accidents that she felt compelled to turn to religion and the saint whose remains her convent now hosts. He met a family who for generations had been guarding a holy tooth in Kashmir, but who had lost their legacy through politics; Inidian guards now hold the keys. He met a scientist whose life work it has been to verify (or not) the remains of Saint Joan of Arc. He claims he is not spiritual, yet he reveres her bones with a fervor usually reserved for the most pious.

Mr. Manseau comes to realize that the relics are more than just a spritual connection-- in Sri Lanka they provide jobs-- helping the economy informally (tours) and formally (the requisite gift shop), in France, local pride unites a community and in Syria, children get to practice their English with tourists.

Mr. Manseau journeys the world with curiousity and respect. For him, it's a strictly personal exploration as much as an means to discovering the history of relics. His message is subtle-- living people and living history is more important than the dead.

For myself, the Basillica was beautiful, but maybe too beautiful. It was hard to for me to reconcile the ostentatious gilt with the suffering experienced by the saints featured. I appreciated Mr. Manseau's journey.

Netflix rating: 4/5 stars

Twilight And Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

I'd bet that, over the past 10 years, 33% of all passengers on commercial flights read a Harry Potter book on the plane. Even with increased fees to check luggage and decreased space to bring luggage on board, at least half a dozen people are carrying a 600+ page hardback book authored by J.K. Rowling. In the past five years, I bet that 89% of all 11-19 year female passengers on planes read the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer and 47% of 19+ women read the series. My calculations are based on personal, if not scientific, experience. Two weeks ago, on my way to my summer vacation, I was a statistic.
Twilight had been making the rounds at the office and in order to participate in water cooler talk, I needed to read it. Also my director brought it in to me and told me to report back the next day on what page I was on. I saved it for my cross country flight and nearly finished it. I assume most people know the basic plot of Twilight: handsome vampire meets average 17 year old girl in a sleepy Pacific Northwest town and dangerous hijinks ensue when they aren't gazing adoringly into each other's eyes. It was a quick read, full of magic, but for all of Edward's perfection, a lingering, nagging thought...why do men need more excuses to not fully commit? Okay, he's a vampire, but really, get it together.
Meanwhile, I'd saved my copy of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince to read right before the movie opened. Somehow the opening came as a surprise and I wasn't prepared. This weekend, having few firm plans, I dusted off my copy and delved in, pausing only to go to the farmer's market and feed the cats. I'll give away no plots here, but will say that Rowling's writing seems to mature right along with Harry, Ron, Hermione and the other Hogwarts students. I feel like I've really come to know these characters and, ironically, although they are witches and wizards, Rowling seems to represent actual teenagers better than Meyer does.
I have one more weekend trip this summer and am debating whether to finish up the Potter series or move on to Book 2 of the Twilight series. Either way, I'll be in good company on the plane.
Netflix stars: 3/5 for Twilight, 5/5 for Harry Potter