Also titled "A Tale of Archaeological Plunder and Obsession."
Craig Childs is a self-proclaimed desert rat sort of person, one who thrives in the dry landscape of canyons and mountains in the archaeologically rich Southwest. He tells of those who collect, steal, ravage, curate, buy, sell and discover artifacts, whether they are great museum pieces or a collection of broken potsherds. There are amazing stories of others' discoveries and of a few he found himself.
The book is provocative, fascinating, peopled with crooks, high and low, with collectors, with salvage archaeologists (those hired when a new development or strip mall or stadium is to be built on grounds that very possibly contain artifacts) and with a few, like the author, who believe these treasures should remain in the ground and crevices where they were placed or where they were left behind and where they remained years or decades or centuries after the humans who made them were long gone.
He talks of Aurel Stein, who finds the Caves of the Thousand Buddhas on the Silk Road in China in the early 20th century. He talks with Thomas Hoving who wrote "Making the Mummies Dance: Inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art." He tells of the artifact diggers on St.Lawrence Island in the Bering Strait and the amazing artifact wealth of southeastern Utah and the Four Corners area. He tells of his own rambles in the southwest and of returning to one of his secret places to get a small sample for carbon dating; how he and his wife lose their way temporarily and spend the night on a two-foot ledge with a rock underneath his sleeping bag on the drop-off side so he wouldn't roll over in the night. "I have never slept so well, so beautifully, as that night...still as a mummy...It was like being suspended by a silver thread over the desert."
He tells of a collector in Santa Fe who has Sitting Bull's pipe in his home and of the repatriation of artifacts, all the while arguing gently for artifacts to remain "in situ."
He ends with this: "I walked a circle until I spotted a small red arrowhead. It was perfect. I picked it up, a fine piece made of jasper stone....I held it against the sky, a fine little bird-point no bigger than a dime, something a person had knapped with great skill.....FInders keepers, I thought....I considered the gamut of opinions, from archaeologist to dealer, from conservators to collectors and no one has convinced me there is a better thing to do at this point than this: I flicked the arrowhead away with my thumb, and it landed back in the dirt. I left it here, wishing the earth to be populated with memory, a stone on the ground as bright as blood."
Even if the subject isn't particularly interesting to you, this book is certainly well written and has stories of human nature and large passions, adventures in the landscape of the southwest and an account of one way one man lives and makes a living outside of a cubicle. Vicarious living.....
Monday, December 27, 2010
Book: Growing, Older by Joan Dye Gussow
Joan lives on the Hudson River in Piermont, New York. She is Professor Emerita of Nutrition and Education at Columbia University's Teacher's College. (Have you even seen the word 'Emerita' before?)
She has written and continues to write, now in her "ninth decade" about local farming, over-consumption, materialism, global crises and global footprints, growing one's own food, her battles with the tides, the rain and the several floodings of her gardens. She writes of woodchucks, skunks, rabbits, muskrats and bees. She is refreshingly candid about growing older and how she continues living after the death of her husband.
She reminded me of my sister Maria, in many ways..smart, honest, principled about her global footprint but also generous and one who delights in the intricacies of the natural world.
Interestingly, she reveals that her mother was born in Orange City, Iowa, and was Dutch Reformed!. This revelation comes soon in the chapter titled, "If My Parents Had Danced in the Supermarket." (Of course, they hadn't, being Dutch Reformed.) She tells of making a visit back to Orange City with her parents when she was a little girl. It was hot and a Sunday. Her Mother, who had moved to California, dressed her daughters in shorts but "Aunt Cora sniffed in shock, 'Joyce, it's Sunday! We were taken back upstairs to be properly dressed. For us it was a novelty; for my mother it was her upbringing." This will be familiar to my cousins and older sisters. In my early years we were not allowed to change from Sunday church dresses to shorts, even while at Big Star Lake on our summer vacations.
Joan also writes of butterflies, of books that have influenced her, of zucchini (the only chapter with recipes) and of trying to plant rice, as her garden is underwater so often.
So, if you like Barbara Kingsolver, Michael Pollan, Dan Barber or Alice Waters, all of whom praise Joan for her writings, then you will almost certainly like this book.
PS. I do have to admit that I don't yet understand the comma in the title.
She has written and continues to write, now in her "ninth decade" about local farming, over-consumption, materialism, global crises and global footprints, growing one's own food, her battles with the tides, the rain and the several floodings of her gardens. She writes of woodchucks, skunks, rabbits, muskrats and bees. She is refreshingly candid about growing older and how she continues living after the death of her husband.
She reminded me of my sister Maria, in many ways..smart, honest, principled about her global footprint but also generous and one who delights in the intricacies of the natural world.
Interestingly, she reveals that her mother was born in Orange City, Iowa, and was Dutch Reformed!. This revelation comes soon in the chapter titled, "If My Parents Had Danced in the Supermarket." (Of course, they hadn't, being Dutch Reformed.) She tells of making a visit back to Orange City with her parents when she was a little girl. It was hot and a Sunday. Her Mother, who had moved to California, dressed her daughters in shorts but "Aunt Cora sniffed in shock, 'Joyce, it's Sunday! We were taken back upstairs to be properly dressed. For us it was a novelty; for my mother it was her upbringing." This will be familiar to my cousins and older sisters. In my early years we were not allowed to change from Sunday church dresses to shorts, even while at Big Star Lake on our summer vacations.
Joan also writes of butterflies, of books that have influenced her, of zucchini (the only chapter with recipes) and of trying to plant rice, as her garden is underwater so often.
So, if you like Barbara Kingsolver, Michael Pollan, Dan Barber or Alice Waters, all of whom praise Joan for her writings, then you will almost certainly like this book.
PS. I do have to admit that I don't yet understand the comma in the title.
Book: The Last Ghost Dancer by Tony Bender
The cover of this library book seduced me: A narrow road with mountains in the distance and fence-lined fields on either side. A dark-haired boy in jeans and a loose white shirt is running towards the mountains.
The book is set in a small western Dakota town. The characters are a wise Indian named Joe Big Cloud, a group of friends who spend their last summer together, still relatively carefree kids before entering the adult worlds of more responsibility, a neighborhood evil person, and the townspeople and families and shopkeepers who live in Pale Butte. This is a short novel but is a story with a beginning and an end, satisfying and somewhat bittersweet. It is a vignette...a snapshot of a summer under the wide western skies in the late 20th century. It can be read in an evening and informs and colors one of the thousands of places in our country where history, sociology and geography mesh and make a story unique to time and place.
While Joe Big Cloud is part of the book, his isn't really the story that the title suggests.
Also, the cover was a promise that didn't happen, but I still liked it....
The book is set in a small western Dakota town. The characters are a wise Indian named Joe Big Cloud, a group of friends who spend their last summer together, still relatively carefree kids before entering the adult worlds of more responsibility, a neighborhood evil person, and the townspeople and families and shopkeepers who live in Pale Butte. This is a short novel but is a story with a beginning and an end, satisfying and somewhat bittersweet. It is a vignette...a snapshot of a summer under the wide western skies in the late 20th century. It can be read in an evening and informs and colors one of the thousands of places in our country where history, sociology and geography mesh and make a story unique to time and place.
While Joe Big Cloud is part of the book, his isn't really the story that the title suggests.
Also, the cover was a promise that didn't happen, but I still liked it....
Book: The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay by Beverly Jensen
There was once a family living in New Brunswick: parents, two daughters and a son. Though life wasn't easy, they were surviving as their father worked his potato farm and their mother worked at making their humble home on the edge of the sea a haven for her family. She found the beauty in life, and their father loved her for that even if he didn't exactly know this. Their mother instructed her children in the rhythms of life and the glories of the natural world and tempered her husband's hardness. But this world falls apart, and the sisters have to learn to survive as best they can, mostly on their own. This is their story, Idella and Avis, and it is a wonderful novel, spanning half a century. Stephen King says, "It's profane, loving, hardnosed and completely beautiful."
It reminded me a bit of The House on Salt Hay Road which I read a few weeks ago. Both novels are far removed from our modern lives and the mental, emotional and psychic turmoils of contemporary people, troubles we recognize from all the novels written about them, but different from the troubles of those who lived 50 to 100 years ago. Hardscrabble Bay is sweet and sad and full of nostalgia for those of us who actually remember some of those times. For those who are younger and for whom this book will not be evocative, it is still a wonderful novel bringing to life a time not so far gone with its universal, timeless characters.
Sadly, the author died in 2003.
It reminded me a bit of The House on Salt Hay Road which I read a few weeks ago. Both novels are far removed from our modern lives and the mental, emotional and psychic turmoils of contemporary people, troubles we recognize from all the novels written about them, but different from the troubles of those who lived 50 to 100 years ago. Hardscrabble Bay is sweet and sad and full of nostalgia for those of us who actually remember some of those times. For those who are younger and for whom this book will not be evocative, it is still a wonderful novel bringing to life a time not so far gone with its universal, timeless characters.
Sadly, the author died in 2003.
Book: The Confession by John Grisham
I like most of John Grisham's writing and this latest book was not a disappointment.
A Lutheran minister, living in Topeka, Kansas, becomes involved with a convicted, but paroled felon, who now lives in a halfway house near his church and who confesses to the minister that he is the actual murderer of a high-school girl, not the black man who is scheduled to be executed in a small Texas town for the murder after nine years on death row. The man tells the minister that he has a malignant brain tumor and wants to rectify this injustice before he dies. He appears very ill, suffers severe headaches and convulsions and his story checks out, for the most part. So the minister reluctantly gets involved. Meanwhile, the lawyer for the convicted man is frantically doing everything he can to prevent the execution. These are the bare outlines of this story. Along the way, Grisham also describes the history of the death penalty in Texas. He weaves into this tale the stories of the families of the accused and the victim, descriptions of the politicians' involvements in the appeal processes and also of the collusions between law officers and lawyers years ago which led to the murder conviction and which were mostly based on lies and fabrications and illegal procedures.
So, this is another story based on the inequities between whites and blacks in a small Southern town. It is also a serious look at the institution of the death penalty and a sobering, interesting glimpse into the mind of a psychopath.
A Lutheran minister, living in Topeka, Kansas, becomes involved with a convicted, but paroled felon, who now lives in a halfway house near his church and who confesses to the minister that he is the actual murderer of a high-school girl, not the black man who is scheduled to be executed in a small Texas town for the murder after nine years on death row. The man tells the minister that he has a malignant brain tumor and wants to rectify this injustice before he dies. He appears very ill, suffers severe headaches and convulsions and his story checks out, for the most part. So the minister reluctantly gets involved. Meanwhile, the lawyer for the convicted man is frantically doing everything he can to prevent the execution. These are the bare outlines of this story. Along the way, Grisham also describes the history of the death penalty in Texas. He weaves into this tale the stories of the families of the accused and the victim, descriptions of the politicians' involvements in the appeal processes and also of the collusions between law officers and lawyers years ago which led to the murder conviction and which were mostly based on lies and fabrications and illegal procedures.
So, this is another story based on the inequities between whites and blacks in a small Southern town. It is also a serious look at the institution of the death penalty and a sobering, interesting glimpse into the mind of a psychopath.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Book: Knife Music b y David Carnoy
This is a debut book by Carnoy and I thought it was a compelling, albeit, zuzu book. A doctor treats a young girl in the emergency room after she is injured in a car accident. Months later, she commits suicide, and he is implicated in her death and accused of having had sex with her. What the author does so well is get the dialogue right, be it fraternity boys, computer hackers, doctors, teenagers with their self-absorption and angst, detectives....The story also moves right along as the doctor insists he is innocent and hires a lawyer, a woman he has known intimately in the past. The detective on the case also has a past that could be relevant as he works on this case...So read it and find out what happens if you need a book now and then with little redeeming value but is a well-written contemporary tale. There were a few details that strained credibility but mostly it all seemed possible.
Knife Music, BTW, is the music the doctor listens to while operating.
Knife Music, BTW, is the music the doctor listens to while operating.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Between Two Worlds by Sainab Salbi and Laurie Becklund
Zainab Salbi grew up in Iraq. Her father was a pilot for Saddam Hussein. As Saddam became more powerful, Zainab's family became more distraught, afraid and anxious. They had position, material wealth and were part of Saddam's group of friends, but they hated him for his excesses and egomania. Zainab tells her story as she grew up while Amo (as they called Saddam) became a monster, raping and pillaging, destroying their beloved Iraq. Her family and friends lived in fear of this evil capricious man, all the while having to pretend to enjoy the parties and outings and his "friendship."
Eventually, she leaves Iraq and enters into an arranged marriage which brings a different kind of misery. She eventually remarries and founds Women for Women International, an organization which helps women victims of wars, especially those who have been raped. She wrote this book, both to tell what kind of man Saddam really was but also because it was necessary for her personal growth and it helped neutralize some of the posttraumatic stress she experienced. She made a choice to focus her anger and pain in ways that help other traumatized women...women who endure atrocities that are seldom acknowledged. Over and over in her book, Zainab is outraged at the lack of support for these abused, damaged women who are as much casualties of war as the soldiers who are wounded. After hearing about "rape camps" in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia, she travels there to hear the stories of these women, and she and her husband Amjad found Women for Women in Bosnia which evolves into Women for Women International.
This is another story like Greg Mortensen's, illustrating the Power of One. One person's idea expands exponentially and thousands of lives are improved.
The website is: www.womenforwomen.org.
Eventually, she leaves Iraq and enters into an arranged marriage which brings a different kind of misery. She eventually remarries and founds Women for Women International, an organization which helps women victims of wars, especially those who have been raped. She wrote this book, both to tell what kind of man Saddam really was but also because it was necessary for her personal growth and it helped neutralize some of the posttraumatic stress she experienced. She made a choice to focus her anger and pain in ways that help other traumatized women...women who endure atrocities that are seldom acknowledged. Over and over in her book, Zainab is outraged at the lack of support for these abused, damaged women who are as much casualties of war as the soldiers who are wounded. After hearing about "rape camps" in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia, she travels there to hear the stories of these women, and she and her husband Amjad found Women for Women in Bosnia which evolves into Women for Women International.
This is another story like Greg Mortensen's, illustrating the Power of One. One person's idea expands exponentially and thousands of lives are improved.
The website is: www.womenforwomen.org.
Chinese Vegetable Soup
OK, I admit defeat. I cannot continue to cook much more from Still Life with Menu. This particular soup had a broth made from Chinese black mushrooms, onion, garlic and ginger, which was strained, and then mushrooms, water chestnuts, boy choy, green peas and snow peas were added. The result was a watery broth with green and brown stuff in it, and it had an earthy odor. I felt I should be eating this while sitting on a forest floor with chipmunks, squirrels, raccoons, muskrats and mice for dinner companions.
It wasn't that awful to taste...certainly nutritious and low in calories, but TOO low and TOO nutritious.
I feel I now know if I will like a recipe or not. So, I plan to keep working my way through the book but will no longer be committed to trying EVERY recipe. I will report on the successes ...maybe.
I realize this is quite boring, unless the recipe is extraordinary.
I bought Classic Chinese Cuisine by Nina Simonds and now also plan to learn Chinese cooking. I have tried a couple of recipes so far (Pearl Balls and Curried Fried Rice) both of which were tasty. I now need to find a light iron wok if I can. And a steamer and a cleaver. But, I will never be able to cook a few of the dishes in this cookbook, like those with "medium-sized live blue crabs" which I actually saw one day in a cooler in the local Asian market. They were wiggling. The crab recipes call for "live blue crabs" which are plunged into "boiling water for about 1 minute" and then basically dissected! But I can do dishes like Stir-Fired Shrimp with Cucumbers and Pine Nuts, or Cold Tossed Tofu and Celery Shreds, or Shrimp Bonnets. If I have a spectacular success, I will write about it. Otherwise, the cooking part of this blog will wane.
It wasn't that awful to taste...certainly nutritious and low in calories, but TOO low and TOO nutritious.
I feel I now know if I will like a recipe or not. So, I plan to keep working my way through the book but will no longer be committed to trying EVERY recipe. I will report on the successes ...maybe.
I realize this is quite boring, unless the recipe is extraordinary.
I bought Classic Chinese Cuisine by Nina Simonds and now also plan to learn Chinese cooking. I have tried a couple of recipes so far (Pearl Balls and Curried Fried Rice) both of which were tasty. I now need to find a light iron wok if I can. And a steamer and a cleaver. But, I will never be able to cook a few of the dishes in this cookbook, like those with "medium-sized live blue crabs" which I actually saw one day in a cooler in the local Asian market. They were wiggling. The crab recipes call for "live blue crabs" which are plunged into "boiling water for about 1 minute" and then basically dissected! But I can do dishes like Stir-Fired Shrimp with Cucumbers and Pine Nuts, or Cold Tossed Tofu and Celery Shreds, or Shrimp Bonnets. If I have a spectacular success, I will write about it. Otherwise, the cooking part of this blog will wane.
The Wave Watcher's Companion by Gavin Pretor-Pinney
This nonfiction book is subtitled From Ocean Waves to Light Waves via Shock Waves, Stadium Waves, and All the Rest of LIfe's Undulations. So, with a title like that, how could I resist? Especially the "life's undulations" part. And that is exactly what the author talks about...waves of all kinds. About one-quarter of the information was over my head, it being physics and such, but so much was fascinating, relatively easy to understand and often funny. The illustrations were superb with photographs and paintings and diagrams. He would often also illustrate with quotations.
His previous book was The CloudSpotter's Guide, which I haven't read and didn't know existed. These books are not exactly best sellers; still, The Wave Watcher was chock full of interesting facts about water waves, light waves, sound waves and electromagnetic waves, etc. Gamma rays, for instance, are electromagnetic waves and have the highest frequency and shortest wavelength. They are produced by radioactive materials and can be dangerous and destructive but are also beneficial when they are used in radiation treatments to target and kill cancer cells.
"Have you ever woken in the middle of the night with the horrifying realization that you haven't the faintest idea what an electromagnetic wave is? [asks the author] Me neither. But since these waves are everywhere around us, I felt that it might be a good idea to find out." And he does.
The locomotion of worms, the "mucociliary escalator" that is inside your windpipe, or a "word" as Oliver Wendell Holmes describes it: "A word, whatever tone it wear, is but a trembling wave of air." Or guitars and sympathetic resonance, or breaking the sound barrier, or the Corryvreckan Maelstrom, or the electron microscope, Einstein, quantum physics and Luc De Broglie who won the 1929 Nobel prize in physics for figuring out the "wave behavior of elections." This is not nearly as boring as it probably sounds to most people. I found I could let go what I didn't understand and still enjoy this delightful, witty writer and his quirky curiosity.
At the end, he decides he needs to go to Hawaii on what he calls a "research trip" to study the huge surfing waves. And so into a world of boogie boards, body surfing, pipelines, death....
The author decides to try bodysurfing: "They were too fast for me to catch, and I felt foolish, frustrated and drained This was ridiculous. Who did I think I was kidding? I'm no bodysurfer, I thought to myself, spitting out yet another mouthful of salt water. And then I gave up worrying....."
OK, now look up viola d'amore. Vignettes like the one about the viola d'amore were what made this book such a treasure.
His previous book was The CloudSpotter's Guide, which I haven't read and didn't know existed. These books are not exactly best sellers; still, The Wave Watcher was chock full of interesting facts about water waves, light waves, sound waves and electromagnetic waves, etc. Gamma rays, for instance, are electromagnetic waves and have the highest frequency and shortest wavelength. They are produced by radioactive materials and can be dangerous and destructive but are also beneficial when they are used in radiation treatments to target and kill cancer cells.
"Have you ever woken in the middle of the night with the horrifying realization that you haven't the faintest idea what an electromagnetic wave is? [asks the author] Me neither. But since these waves are everywhere around us, I felt that it might be a good idea to find out." And he does.
The locomotion of worms, the "mucociliary escalator" that is inside your windpipe, or a "word" as Oliver Wendell Holmes describes it: "A word, whatever tone it wear, is but a trembling wave of air." Or guitars and sympathetic resonance, or breaking the sound barrier, or the Corryvreckan Maelstrom, or the electron microscope, Einstein, quantum physics and Luc De Broglie who won the 1929 Nobel prize in physics for figuring out the "wave behavior of elections." This is not nearly as boring as it probably sounds to most people. I found I could let go what I didn't understand and still enjoy this delightful, witty writer and his quirky curiosity.
At the end, he decides he needs to go to Hawaii on what he calls a "research trip" to study the huge surfing waves. And so into a world of boogie boards, body surfing, pipelines, death....
The author decides to try bodysurfing: "They were too fast for me to catch, and I felt foolish, frustrated and drained This was ridiculous. Who did I think I was kidding? I'm no bodysurfer, I thought to myself, spitting out yet another mouthful of salt water. And then I gave up worrying....."
OK, now look up viola d'amore. Vignettes like the one about the viola d'amore were what made this book such a treasure.
Carolina Wren
Here is why I love birding...
Today there were "lake-effect" winter storm warnings all day. It was blustery, about 30 degrees, with alternating blowing snow and periods of quiet. It went on like this all day. This was my weekend to work, so I sat with a view of all my feeders for two days straight, since there is window right next to my work computer. I had the usual birds...a nice collection of about a dozen species, including doves, a cardinal, bluejays, juncos, woodpeckers, etc., but nothing out of the ordinary.
So on Sunday afternoon, I looked out and saw a bird that almost immediately seemed not ordinary. It was hanging on one of the feeders, and at first I though "finch." I haven't seen many house finches OR purple finches this year, and they are good possibilities at feeders, but then I realized I was looking at a Carolina Wren! This was thrilling for me. I have NEVER actually seen a C. wren. When Deborah and I went on the last-of-season birding hike with Don at Ft. Harrison in Indiana late this fall, he heard (so I also heard, but would certainly not have known the song without his expert ear) a Carolina wren. They are usually south of here, and they usually do not show up at feeders in Michigan during a lake-effect mini blizzard. It made me catch my breath. I was delighted, excited, happy.
The Carolina is a large wren, with a strong long white stripe over the eye (supercilium), a long curved bill, a warm rusty wash underneath and a rich brown body like most wrens. It only stayed about 30 seconds, and so far has not returned, but I am positive it was a Carolina.
This bird is mostly a year-round resident in the eastern half of the US, but not as far north as Michigan. Common enough to the south, but not here. Yes!!!!!!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Book: The House on Salt Hay Road by Carin Clevidence
I loved this novel, which is set in rural Long Island from about 1935 to 1945. It is a family story and beautifully told. Two young children whose parents have died are taken in by their aunt, uncle and grandfather and they grow up in the house on Salt Hay Road. All of the characters are beautifully drawn and very credible. One also feels the sea and salty air and the sense of a young boy's freedom as he roams the fields and marshes and beaches that permeates this book. There is also a wonderful nostalgia for people of my generation. It is a time before computers and cell phones and yet not too far removed.
Since I usually read the reviews on the back of books, I thought I would like this story when I read what Annie Dillard said: 'I'd like to see this book return literature to its roots in beauty. Not sentimental, Clevidence has a keen eye for the loneliness of what is real, and for the energy of what is exultant, the white birds rising from the marsh."
Quoting at random:
"Mavis sniffled as she passed Clayton a slice of bread. He smeared it with cream lifted from the top of the milk jug with the flat of the butter knife. The cream was yellow with fat, thick as leather. Clayton sprinkled sugar over it and then crammed the slice into his mouth. The grains of sugar pressed against his tongue."
Clayton is a young boy; Mavis is his older matronly aunt who has returned to the Salt Hay Road house years earlier after a bad marriage. She bakes and cleans and generally keeps house for her father, her brother and for Nancy and Clayton, her orphaned niece and nephew. Her character made me think of my grandmothers in their homes that were always clean and always smelled of good food.
I also liked the way this story was told. The author jumped into these lives and carried us along and then left them, but without a sense of abandonment....rather with a sense that there will be more life for the characters, and that they have been brought through important events in all their lives and now will persevere.
Since I usually read the reviews on the back of books, I thought I would like this story when I read what Annie Dillard said: 'I'd like to see this book return literature to its roots in beauty. Not sentimental, Clevidence has a keen eye for the loneliness of what is real, and for the energy of what is exultant, the white birds rising from the marsh."
Quoting at random:
"Mavis sniffled as she passed Clayton a slice of bread. He smeared it with cream lifted from the top of the milk jug with the flat of the butter knife. The cream was yellow with fat, thick as leather. Clayton sprinkled sugar over it and then crammed the slice into his mouth. The grains of sugar pressed against his tongue."
Clayton is a young boy; Mavis is his older matronly aunt who has returned to the Salt Hay Road house years earlier after a bad marriage. She bakes and cleans and generally keeps house for her father, her brother and for Nancy and Clayton, her orphaned niece and nephew. Her character made me think of my grandmothers in their homes that were always clean and always smelled of good food.
I also liked the way this story was told. The author jumped into these lives and carried us along and then left them, but without a sense of abandonment....rather with a sense that there will be more life for the characters, and that they have been brought through important events in all their lives and now will persevere.
Book: The Charming Quirks of Others by Alexander McCall Smith
This is another Isabel Dalhousie novel. Isabel is a woman who lives in Edinburgh in Scotland and Alexander McCall Smith has written a series of novels starring Isabel. They are all somewhat the same, although her life does move forward chronologically as the series progresses. Isabel has her much younger boyfriend / fiance, Jamie, who is a bassoonist; she has their young son Charlie, her edgy niece Cat (who owns a delicatessen and always pops up as a minor character) and similarly her housekeeper Grace, and Eddie, a socially awkward, rather mysterious young man who works for Cat. The stories are light and mostly sweet but seldom saccharine. McCall obviously loves Scotland and this is a way he showcases his country, and more specifically, Edinburgh.
The bones of The Charming Quirks.... are that Isabel is asked to quietly poke around in the private lives of the three candidates for principal of a boys' school. It seems one of them might have a past that could be problematic should be become the new principal. Of course, Isabel, after a bit of initial hesitation, agrees to take this on. And that is the story. We follow along through her life and her thoughts for a few weeks as she works on this. There is always much of her personal life in these novels, especially her relationships with Jamie, Charlie and Cat.
It is refreshing to read of an older woman and younger man and their child and how it works (mostly) for them. Again, the Isabel Dalhousie series is a comfortable ramble through the life of an intelligent, thoughtful, charming woman. She muses a lot, being a philosopher, but her musings are usually triggered by what happens to her day after day.
I like this series better than the #1 Ladies' Detective Agency Series which also has a female protagonist but is set in Botswana where the author also lived for several years.
The bones of The Charming Quirks.... are that Isabel is asked to quietly poke around in the private lives of the three candidates for principal of a boys' school. It seems one of them might have a past that could be problematic should be become the new principal. Of course, Isabel, after a bit of initial hesitation, agrees to take this on. And that is the story. We follow along through her life and her thoughts for a few weeks as she works on this. There is always much of her personal life in these novels, especially her relationships with Jamie, Charlie and Cat.
It is refreshing to read of an older woman and younger man and their child and how it works (mostly) for them. Again, the Isabel Dalhousie series is a comfortable ramble through the life of an intelligent, thoughtful, charming woman. She muses a lot, being a philosopher, but her musings are usually triggered by what happens to her day after day.
I like this series better than the #1 Ladies' Detective Agency Series which also has a female protagonist but is set in Botswana where the author also lived for several years.
Book: Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris
Sedaris takes familiar animals, anthropomorphizes them and puts them in situations we humans will recognize as we go through life. The stories are mostly very funny, although sometimes startling what with Sedaris' wicked wit. There are 16 stories about rats, stork, hippos, owls, chickens and so on. How better to illustrate what this book is than to offer a quote. This is from The Grieving Owl:
"On my way home that night, I picked up a rabbit. It was on the small side, and and no sooner had I started eating than my mother appeared. "I'll wait until you're finished, " she said in that particular way that means What kind of son can't offer his mother so much as an appendage? Sighing, I ripped off and ear and passed it over. "
Of course Sedaris is mostly pointing out our human foibles and character defects in a uniquely funny way. He contributes to The New Yorker and This American Life on NPR.
"On my way home that night, I picked up a rabbit. It was on the small side, and and no sooner had I started eating than my mother appeared. "I'll wait until you're finished, " she said in that particular way that means What kind of son can't offer his mother so much as an appendage? Sighing, I ripped off and ear and passed it over. "
Of course Sedaris is mostly pointing out our human foibles and character defects in a uniquely funny way. He contributes to The New Yorker and This American Life on NPR.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sandhill Cranes
Deborah and I met in northern Indiana to see the sandhill cranes at Jasper-Pulaski Wildlife and Game Management Area. They congregate here and a few other places in the US on their migrations north and south each year.
We first met at JP near what would have been sunset had there been a sun. The cranes were flying by the thousands into a pasture in front of a viewing tower, landing, vocalizing and dancing. They arrived from all directions, sometimes singly, but usually in small groups. There was a cold wind blowing and it soon got dark.
We then stayed overnight in a motel 30 miles away and got up at 5 a.m. the next morning to return to see the birds at what would have been sunrise had there been a sun. Still, even without the added beauty of sunshine, it was amazing. The cranes were silvery gray with long necks. They kept flying in, silhouetted against the grey skies, gliding and flapping and dropping down to land for over an hour. We each took about 200 photos. I discarded most of mine but did get a few. Deborah took some small videos and recorded the warbling. Several people had huge lenses, and it was fun to eavesdrop as they all tried to find the correct light settings and exposures and shutter speeds, etc. Deborah and I both said we might come back on a sunny day, although it would mean a 5-hour round trip for both of us. Still, the sight of the cranes against the western sky at sunset would be worth it.
I was most entranced by the intersection of gravity and cranes. They simply seemed to have conquered the strictures of gravity and would gently gently drift downward, their spindly legs dangling, and would settle into the group already on the ground.
We then birded the surrounding area for about an hour, seeing several pairs of eastern bluebirds, tree sparrows, red-bellied and red-headed woodpeckers, white-breated nuthatches and blue jays, most in the state tree nursery which is also part of Jasper-Pulaski.
We first met at JP near what would have been sunset had there been a sun. The cranes were flying by the thousands into a pasture in front of a viewing tower, landing, vocalizing and dancing. They arrived from all directions, sometimes singly, but usually in small groups. There was a cold wind blowing and it soon got dark.
We then stayed overnight in a motel 30 miles away and got up at 5 a.m. the next morning to return to see the birds at what would have been sunrise had there been a sun. Still, even without the added beauty of sunshine, it was amazing. The cranes were silvery gray with long necks. They kept flying in, silhouetted against the grey skies, gliding and flapping and dropping down to land for over an hour. We each took about 200 photos. I discarded most of mine but did get a few. Deborah took some small videos and recorded the warbling. Several people had huge lenses, and it was fun to eavesdrop as they all tried to find the correct light settings and exposures and shutter speeds, etc. Deborah and I both said we might come back on a sunny day, although it would mean a 5-hour round trip for both of us. Still, the sight of the cranes against the western sky at sunset would be worth it.
I was most entranced by the intersection of gravity and cranes. They simply seemed to have conquered the strictures of gravity and would gently gently drift downward, their spindly legs dangling, and would settle into the group already on the ground.
We then birded the surrounding area for about an hour, seeing several pairs of eastern bluebirds, tree sparrows, red-bellied and red-headed woodpeckers, white-breated nuthatches and blue jays, most in the state tree nursery which is also part of Jasper-Pulaski.
Mute Swans
Last Saturday, I went to Holland State Park for the Lakeshore Bird Count. This is done in two one-hour segments, from 0730 to 0830 and then from 0830 to 0930. It is done periodically throughout the year, up and down the shoreline. I had never participated before so wasn't quite sure how it was done.
There was a strong, cold east wind. About 6 or 7 of us persevered, although I was absolutely no help at all. Two people had nice spotting scopes and would call out the mergansers, loons, gulls and ducks that I could barely see even as specks through my binoculars. Still, I learned how flight patterns help sort out flying waterfowl. I do see a scope in my future as birds continue to seduce me.
We stayed at the end of the pier for the first hour and then huddled behind the little brick NOAA weather station on the shore. My fingers and toes were pretty numb when 0930 finally arrived.
The highlight for me was two mute swans which came from the west and were flying low and straight east down the channel toward Lake Macatawa. As they approached and passed over, we could easily hear the lovely wild noise of their wings beating the air.
There was a strong, cold east wind. About 6 or 7 of us persevered, although I was absolutely no help at all. Two people had nice spotting scopes and would call out the mergansers, loons, gulls and ducks that I could barely see even as specks through my binoculars. Still, I learned how flight patterns help sort out flying waterfowl. I do see a scope in my future as birds continue to seduce me.
We stayed at the end of the pier for the first hour and then huddled behind the little brick NOAA weather station on the shore. My fingers and toes were pretty numb when 0930 finally arrived.
The highlight for me was two mute swans which came from the west and were flying low and straight east down the channel toward Lake Macatawa. As they approached and passed over, we could easily hear the lovely wild noise of their wings beating the air.
Still Life with Menu
I have been stalled in my project of cooking my way through this cookbook. I decided to revise my rules. I will continue but am not going to make the breads or desserts. I found the bread-making too tedious for the results, plus I can buy delicious bread all over. The desserts were just OK. Maybe a vegetarian, health-conscious cookbook shouldn't even try more than a few desserts. So soon, with those revisions, on to Chinese Vegetable Soup.
Privileges by Jonathan Dee
Do you ever read books that are well written but end with a whimper? Privileges was like that IMO. It is similar to Jonathan Franzen's Freedom, but not as good, in part because the four characters (Cynthia and Adam and their children Jonas and April) all are abandoned as the book ends, as though the author got sick of writing about them or else didn't know where to go with their lives after a certain point.
The story opens with the wedding of Cynthia and Adam. It is in Pittsburgh because Cynthia's mother lives there with her second husband, a nice guy who spends "$38,000" for the wedding of his stepdaughter whom he barely knows and who barely acknowledges him. It ends when Adam and Cynthia's children are in their late teens, so it covers about 20 years. I liked the characterization and the vignettes of their lives. They live in Manhattan, moving to more spacious and impressive buildings as they get wealthier. There was the fascination of reading about Adam's rise in the financial world; he was a genius at making money and a sweet guy. There are cliches in this novel but also nuance, especially in the relationship of Adam and Cynthia, or maybe not exactly nuance, but what happens to modern couples and often becomes tedious in so many contemporary novels doesn't happen in this one. I wonder what the author really wanted to say with this story and why he didn't stay the course. Or maybe that was somehow his point...
This family becomes very very rich, and we see again what money can do for the common good, but not in any compelling way, nor in way motivated by true compassion and empathy. It was rather that this is what highly financially privileged folk often do with their excess millions. Foundations, charities, money-raising social events, boards and board meetings, while not really wishing or trying to understand poverty and the worlds of deprivation. So ultimately, for me, this was a strange book, a bit disappointing, although interesting and entertaining.
Most mysterious was the character of Cynthia who seems to be such a bitch most of the time but not with her husband and their kids. At first I thought she would disavow the money that Adam keeps accumulating, but she doesn't. She and Adam indulge April and Jonas but are loving parents. The kids go in different directions as they get older, and I was wondering what would happen to them in the world. We get a glimpse, but only a glimpse, and then the story ends.
I always scan the back cover reviews and this book had Richard Ford, Elizabeth Strout, Tom Perrotta, Jay McInerney and Jonathan Franzen saying things like: "..incredibly readable...pleasure to read....elegant stylist....important and compelling work....cunning, seductive novel...."
The story opens with the wedding of Cynthia and Adam. It is in Pittsburgh because Cynthia's mother lives there with her second husband, a nice guy who spends "$38,000" for the wedding of his stepdaughter whom he barely knows and who barely acknowledges him. It ends when Adam and Cynthia's children are in their late teens, so it covers about 20 years. I liked the characterization and the vignettes of their lives. They live in Manhattan, moving to more spacious and impressive buildings as they get wealthier. There was the fascination of reading about Adam's rise in the financial world; he was a genius at making money and a sweet guy. There are cliches in this novel but also nuance, especially in the relationship of Adam and Cynthia, or maybe not exactly nuance, but what happens to modern couples and often becomes tedious in so many contemporary novels doesn't happen in this one. I wonder what the author really wanted to say with this story and why he didn't stay the course. Or maybe that was somehow his point...
This family becomes very very rich, and we see again what money can do for the common good, but not in any compelling way, nor in way motivated by true compassion and empathy. It was rather that this is what highly financially privileged folk often do with their excess millions. Foundations, charities, money-raising social events, boards and board meetings, while not really wishing or trying to understand poverty and the worlds of deprivation. So ultimately, for me, this was a strange book, a bit disappointing, although interesting and entertaining.
Most mysterious was the character of Cynthia who seems to be such a bitch most of the time but not with her husband and their kids. At first I thought she would disavow the money that Adam keeps accumulating, but she doesn't. She and Adam indulge April and Jonas but are loving parents. The kids go in different directions as they get older, and I was wondering what would happen to them in the world. We get a glimpse, but only a glimpse, and then the story ends.
I always scan the back cover reviews and this book had Richard Ford, Elizabeth Strout, Tom Perrotta, Jay McInerney and Jonathan Franzen saying things like: "..incredibly readable...pleasure to read....elegant stylist....important and compelling work....cunning, seductive novel...."
Monday, November 15, 2010
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Janie Crawford tells her friend Phoeby...."Ah'm older than Tea Cake, yes. But he done showed me where it's de thought dat makes de difference in ages. If people thinks de same they can make it all right. So in the beginnin' new thoughts had tuh be thought and new words said. After Ah got used tuh dat, we gits' long jus' fine. He done taught me de maiden language all over. Wait till you see de new blue satin Tea Cake done picked out for me tuh stand up wid him in. High heel slippers, necklace, earrings, everything he wants tuh see me in. Some of dese mornin's and it won't be long, you gointuh wake up callin' me and Ah'll be gone."
Janie already has had two husbands, both of whom belittled her and insisted she stay in the background and just work hard and who generally treated her as a lesser human. When her second husband dies, she is a widow of some substance with many suitors, but she falls head over heels in love with Tea Cake, a charming, sweet-talking, younger man. It is the 1930s in Florida. They move from northern Florida to the 'Glades as migrants, working on the "muck" until a devastating hurricane arrives and their lives change. They listen to the wind and the waters of Lake Okechobee move toward them and "their eyes were watching God."
These are the bare bones of this amazing novel. It is a love story and a portrait of black life in the south, yet, as all great novels, it is much more than that. The universal themes of human dignity and desire, community, love, boredom, dreams, loss, and living a life through days and seasons and years are all here.
Hurston wrote for years, studied anthropology, received honorary degrees and awards, but eventually died at age 69 in a county welfare home in Florida in 1960. Alice Walker searched for and found Hurston's unmarked grave in 1973 and said of Their Eyes Were Watching God, "There is no book more important to me than this one."
Janie already has had two husbands, both of whom belittled her and insisted she stay in the background and just work hard and who generally treated her as a lesser human. When her second husband dies, she is a widow of some substance with many suitors, but she falls head over heels in love with Tea Cake, a charming, sweet-talking, younger man. It is the 1930s in Florida. They move from northern Florida to the 'Glades as migrants, working on the "muck" until a devastating hurricane arrives and their lives change. They listen to the wind and the waters of Lake Okechobee move toward them and "their eyes were watching God."
These are the bare bones of this amazing novel. It is a love story and a portrait of black life in the south, yet, as all great novels, it is much more than that. The universal themes of human dignity and desire, community, love, boredom, dreams, loss, and living a life through days and seasons and years are all here.
Hurston wrote for years, studied anthropology, received honorary degrees and awards, but eventually died at age 69 in a county welfare home in Florida in 1960. Alice Walker searched for and found Hurston's unmarked grave in 1973 and said of Their Eyes Were Watching God, "There is no book more important to me than this one."
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Spotted Towhee
Lat Friday (11/05/2010), I was transcribing and half-watching bird activity at the feeders when I saw a towhee. Which was a bit unusual and a new yard bird for me on Lakeshore, so I got the binocs on it and saw what looked like white paint drips on the wings and upper back and realized it was not an Eastern Towhee and was very possibly a Spotted Towhee which, as I subsequently discovered, should not be east of the Mississippi. I took about 40 photos and finally went outside (sunny and windy) and stalked the towhee round and round the brush pile but did not get better photos as it would hop out of sight as I followed. I then tried to sneak up on it (through dry crackling leaves) from the front of the house and the side of the garage, etc. This was not going to work. I was headed north for the weekend, so I gave up trying to get better photos and drove up to Townsend.
When I came back on Sunday, I was walking to the house from the car and saw the towhee still there, scratching away in the dry oak leaves.
I checked all my references and decided I needed to submit this very uncommon bird, so I found the Michigan Records Committee web site, used the form from that site, attached 3 photos and sent it off. I also submitted it in a comment to eBird, as there was no option for Spotted Towhee on the Michigan check lists.
This is a handsome bird with black head, long tail, rufous sides, white belly and, on the Spotted, quite a bit of white dappling on the back and wings. It is approximately robin-sized. The bird in my yard was a male.
It stayed around and I heard nothing from my submissions, so I went to the monthly meeting of the Holland Audubon group on Tuesday evening and announced my "sighting" again, which immediately got the attention of Mike Overway..."We need to talk..."
I sent Mike some photos on Tuesday night after the meeting and by Wednesday, a dozen local birders stopped by for a look and verified the bird even though the photos also had pretty much documented the sighting.
The Spotted Towhee (which has been split from the Eastern Towhee) is VERY uncommon in Michigan with less than 10 documented sightings so far. It was verified this was not a hybrid. Yes!!!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Blues Lessons by Robert Hellenga
Another lovely and complete story set first in SW Michigan and then in Chicago in the mid 20th century. Marty is an only child. His father's life is his fruit orchards. He is a meat and potatoes, Field and Stream, bowling sort of man. His mother (Marshall Fields, quenelles, Proust, Chopin) yearns for more but mostly accepts the life in a small town. They are both decent people and love their son. His mother's dream is for Marty to go the University of Chicago; his father would like him to stay on the land and work the orchards, but, as happens, their dreams are not Marty's. He falls in love with Cory, a classmate, who is a Negro.
Mr. Hellenga takes these characters and places them in that important period of our history, a time on the cusp of the Civil Rights movement, a time when a relatively affluent white boy could not marry the daughter of his father's African American foreman, or so people thought.
One summer evening, Marty first hears the music of the men who work in his father's orchards when they gather "on the far side of the packing shed" near their migrant dormitories. He is seduced by the rhythms and words of the blues. Marty comes of age in this book; he grows up; he makes his own choices but always, always continues to love, and learns to play, the blues.
Here's a section I picked at random: (Eventually, Marty would sometimes play on small stages in Illinois or Wisconsin.)
"I got into a little trouble with Blind Blake's "You're Gonna Quit Me, Baby." I hooked my thumb pick on the G string and almost heaved the guitar out into the audience; then I screwed up the first break and played it again and screwed it up again. I tried not to get agitated, tried to put my trust in my body, tried to get my thinking brain out of the way. When you're playing with a group, the group will carry you, but when you're soloing you've just got to pick yourself up and carry on. I could feel support coming from the audience; could feel their good will as I played the break a third time, this time without thinking. When I came to the passage I'd had trouble with, I stepped into it, like my father stepping up to the starting line in the tenth frame of his perfect game. [Hellenga's real father, in fact, had once bowled a perfect game, and the author has a character also do this in the book.] This time the pressure concentrated my energies instead of fragmenting them. The music was there, in my body, and the notes came out like drops of sweat. Everyone relaxed. The mistake was working in my favor. I was vulnerable, but not incompetent! Everything was going to be all right."
Whether Hellenga is describing a spelling bee, his mother's attempt to duplicate Babette's Feast, the yearning he feels for Cory or the economics of the orchards, he "gets it" and then tells us all about it.
Hellenga is a professor at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois.
Mr. Hellenga takes these characters and places them in that important period of our history, a time on the cusp of the Civil Rights movement, a time when a relatively affluent white boy could not marry the daughter of his father's African American foreman, or so people thought.
One summer evening, Marty first hears the music of the men who work in his father's orchards when they gather "on the far side of the packing shed" near their migrant dormitories. He is seduced by the rhythms and words of the blues. Marty comes of age in this book; he grows up; he makes his own choices but always, always continues to love, and learns to play, the blues.
Here's a section I picked at random: (Eventually, Marty would sometimes play on small stages in Illinois or Wisconsin.)
"I got into a little trouble with Blind Blake's "You're Gonna Quit Me, Baby." I hooked my thumb pick on the G string and almost heaved the guitar out into the audience; then I screwed up the first break and played it again and screwed it up again. I tried not to get agitated, tried to put my trust in my body, tried to get my thinking brain out of the way. When you're playing with a group, the group will carry you, but when you're soloing you've just got to pick yourself up and carry on. I could feel support coming from the audience; could feel their good will as I played the break a third time, this time without thinking. When I came to the passage I'd had trouble with, I stepped into it, like my father stepping up to the starting line in the tenth frame of his perfect game. [Hellenga's real father, in fact, had once bowled a perfect game, and the author has a character also do this in the book.] This time the pressure concentrated my energies instead of fragmenting them. The music was there, in my body, and the notes came out like drops of sweat. Everyone relaxed. The mistake was working in my favor. I was vulnerable, but not incompetent! Everything was going to be all right."
Whether Hellenga is describing a spelling bee, his mother's attempt to duplicate Babette's Feast, the yearning he feels for Cory or the economics of the orchards, he "gets it" and then tells us all about it.
Hellenga is a professor at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois.
I'd Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman
Eliza is a grown woman now and has a husband and two children. But, when she was young, she was kidnapped and held captive for several weeks. Now her kidnapper is about to be executed after 20 years of appeals and delays. He is on death row and he contacts Eliza, using a woman who is trying to save him from execution as intermediary. He dictates letters to her, finally is allowed to telephone her and insists he wants to see her before he dies. This is their story and it is compelling.
As counterpoint, Eliza's present life is described. She is an upper middle class mother and wife. Her husband is a good man, does not stray and remains stalwart throughout, which in itself is a refreshing change from so much contemporary fiction. Good novelists present the nuances and subtleties of horrific situations and very damaged people in ways that give one pause. Their characters are complex like people we all know; much of their lives is ordinary, sometimes messy, but with divine moments that are recognizable. While this is mainly the story of Eliza, it is also the story of her kids, her parents, her sister, her husband, her community, and the humanity we all share is made clear, even in a rapist and murderer.
As counterpoint, Eliza's present life is described. She is an upper middle class mother and wife. Her husband is a good man, does not stray and remains stalwart throughout, which in itself is a refreshing change from so much contemporary fiction. Good novelists present the nuances and subtleties of horrific situations and very damaged people in ways that give one pause. Their characters are complex like people we all know; much of their lives is ordinary, sometimes messy, but with divine moments that are recognizable. While this is mainly the story of Eliza, it is also the story of her kids, her parents, her sister, her husband, her community, and the humanity we all share is made clear, even in a rapist and murderer.
The Brave by Nicholas Evans
This is the gentleman who wrote The Horse Whisperer. I heard him interviewed recently on NPR. He is an Englishman and has to have dialysis after nearly dying of eating poisonous mushrooms while on a family hike. Not that this relevant to his new novel, The Brave.
This book superficially skimmed too many themes: Hollywood in the early 1960s; boarding schools in England; civilian deaths in Iraq; the Blackfeet of Montana all woven into significant family dramas and traumas. Still, I will always love reading a novel set in Montana, especially along the eastern Rocky Mountain Front which rises up from the prairies in an awesome wondrous way. Virginia was a little girl when she first saw these mountains. We were driving west on highway 2 and she suddenly and seriously asked in the way of children: "Where's the door?"
Nicholas Evans writes well enough and this story had its moments; just not a lot of depth. Still, if you liked his other books (The Smoke Jumper, The Loop, The Divide and The Horse Whisperer), you will probably like it well enough.
This book superficially skimmed too many themes: Hollywood in the early 1960s; boarding schools in England; civilian deaths in Iraq; the Blackfeet of Montana all woven into significant family dramas and traumas. Still, I will always love reading a novel set in Montana, especially along the eastern Rocky Mountain Front which rises up from the prairies in an awesome wondrous way. Virginia was a little girl when she first saw these mountains. We were driving west on highway 2 and she suddenly and seriously asked in the way of children: "Where's the door?"
Nicholas Evans writes well enough and this story had its moments; just not a lot of depth. Still, if you liked his other books (The Smoke Jumper, The Loop, The Divide and The Horse Whisperer), you will probably like it well enough.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
The World Has Changed - Conversations with Alice Walker
(Edited with an Introduction by Rudolph P. Byrd.)
Alice Walker is a fierce and formidable woman; I suspect one would not mess with her for long. These conversations and interviews range from 1973 to 2009; They are varied, always interesting, absolutely filled with details of Walker's life, especially as they relate to her writings. However, the bits and pieces of her life that are revealed, and her answers and opinions, are not presented chronologically, but rather are randomly strewn throughout the pages of this collection, and one does not exactly get a coherent, cohesive portrait of her. Still, for anyone who admires her writing, this book offers wonderful glimpses into her mind.
She was born in 1944 in Georgia, the last of 6 children. Her family was poor but knew the importance of education. She has had an amazingly creative and passionate life. Throughout these conversations, Alice was never at a loss for words. Of course, some of the questions and answers were repetitive as would naturally be the case in such a collection, but overall, the material was fresh and most definitely instructs the reader about Alice Walker, especially if, like me, one knows very little. She is articulate and expresses herself in clear forceful language, as she explains her philosophies and how she lives her life, as she talks about her writing and her involvement in society, both globally and in her quiet country homes, as she tells of her childhood, her marriage, her outrages, her admirations. She had unhesitating opinions about anything asked of her, but then much of her life IS words and language and with so much always fermenting and maturing in her mind, this is not surprising.
She is most known for The Color Purple, but has written many other books, fiction and nonfiction. She married and divorced Melvyn Leventhal and they had one daughter. While there is a ton of information in these conversations, one does not learn much about her very personal day-to-day life; however, this is not a biography. I did become curious, though, how accurately these conversations presented the real Alice Walker.
One other thing: She so admires Zora Neale Hurston who wrote Their Eyes Were Watching God and states: "My feeling is that Zora Neale Hurston is probably one of the most misunderstood, least appreciated writers of this century...A writer of courage, and incredible humor, with poetry in every line." This book has long been free-floating in my mental "must-read" pile. I'm off to the library to get it.
Alice Walker is a fierce and formidable woman; I suspect one would not mess with her for long. These conversations and interviews range from 1973 to 2009; They are varied, always interesting, absolutely filled with details of Walker's life, especially as they relate to her writings. However, the bits and pieces of her life that are revealed, and her answers and opinions, are not presented chronologically, but rather are randomly strewn throughout the pages of this collection, and one does not exactly get a coherent, cohesive portrait of her. Still, for anyone who admires her writing, this book offers wonderful glimpses into her mind.
She was born in 1944 in Georgia, the last of 6 children. Her family was poor but knew the importance of education. She has had an amazingly creative and passionate life. Throughout these conversations, Alice was never at a loss for words. Of course, some of the questions and answers were repetitive as would naturally be the case in such a collection, but overall, the material was fresh and most definitely instructs the reader about Alice Walker, especially if, like me, one knows very little. She is articulate and expresses herself in clear forceful language, as she explains her philosophies and how she lives her life, as she talks about her writing and her involvement in society, both globally and in her quiet country homes, as she tells of her childhood, her marriage, her outrages, her admirations. She had unhesitating opinions about anything asked of her, but then much of her life IS words and language and with so much always fermenting and maturing in her mind, this is not surprising.
She is most known for The Color Purple, but has written many other books, fiction and nonfiction. She married and divorced Melvyn Leventhal and they had one daughter. While there is a ton of information in these conversations, one does not learn much about her very personal day-to-day life; however, this is not a biography. I did become curious, though, how accurately these conversations presented the real Alice Walker.
One other thing: She so admires Zora Neale Hurston who wrote Their Eyes Were Watching God and states: "My feeling is that Zora Neale Hurston is probably one of the most misunderstood, least appreciated writers of this century...A writer of courage, and incredible humor, with poetry in every line." This book has long been free-floating in my mental "must-read" pile. I'm off to the library to get it.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Freedom by Jonathan Franzen
Well, I admit it....I couldn't put this book down. I once took some French classes at Grand Valley. I remember the teacher (himself a Frenchman) his telling our class that Moliere's novels were most highly praised and admired by the very classes and people that Moliere satirized. Corrections probably fits in that category of novel. I loved the characterizations, the wit, the skewering of almost everything in modern popular culture.
There is a father / husband named Walter who is a dear, sweet and lovely man, his wife Patty, their kids Joey and Jessica and dozens of other characters who are connected to these four people. Franzen touches on many, many aspects of American society, mostly not very kindly, but always with clarity of dialogue, with a sharp, often wicked humor, with insight into his various characters but also often with grace. He seems never to struggle for a phrase; his writing appears effortless. While some could and probably did dismiss this novel, I found it compelling for its message about the finite resources we are rapidly using up but also for the dozens of vignettes about what is happening in and to the United States and how freedom just may be "another word for nothing left to lose."
There is a father / husband named Walter who is a dear, sweet and lovely man, his wife Patty, their kids Joey and Jessica and dozens of other characters who are connected to these four people. Franzen touches on many, many aspects of American society, mostly not very kindly, but always with clarity of dialogue, with a sharp, often wicked humor, with insight into his various characters but also often with grace. He seems never to struggle for a phrase; his writing appears effortless. While some could and probably did dismiss this novel, I found it compelling for its message about the finite resources we are rapidly using up but also for the dozens of vignettes about what is happening in and to the United States and how freedom just may be "another word for nothing left to lose."
Monday, October 11, 2010
Birds on the Stu Visser Trail
Today was a perfect Indian Summer day, warm, sunny and full of brilliant fall color. I was headed to the coffee shop, but stopped on the way at the north end of the Stu Visser Trail to see what birds might be about. There were birds but after I settled in and quieted my mind, I realized I was also listening to leaf drops, like rain drops but drier. I had never heard this before.
I am getting used to looking for movement in foliage as a sign of bird activity, but today leaves were drifting down everywhere, sometimes to the ground, but often getting trapped in the brush and other trees, and they were making tiny little noises. It was rather magical..the combination of sunshine, the stillness and this sound of individual leaves dropping. I stood listening and looking out over the cattails and the berries, the tangled brush, the trees, the marsh and the creek. The foliage was lovely with shades of reds, browns, yellows, oranges and greens...the yearly coloring. There was no one else around.
A pair of Eastern Bluebirds sat in a tall silvered dead tree; a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker flew to the same tree, its white vertical stripe easy to spot; a Great Blue Heron moved overhead in the very blue sky, flapping and gliding; a Ruby-crowned Kinglet fed in its frenetic fashion, the white markings around its eyes easily visible; Goldfinches were busy in the bushes; a Downy Woodpecker flew from tree to tree as did Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds.
I was on the north bridge, watching the small birds moving in the brush at the water's edge when I heard a Pileated Woodpecker behind me. I ignored it at first figuring it was in the trees to the east and out of sight, but it hammered again and sounded closer this time. It was, like about 30 feet away on a dead tree. I continue to be amazed at how BIG this bird is close up. It moved around the tree, out of sight for a few seconds and, as it came back in view, the sunlight blazed its red crest. These birds have a huge, strong, lethal-looking bill, a black and white striped face..just a magnificent bird. It is still a thrill to see them. Nice morning....
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett
The Voyage of the Narwhal was written in 1988 and is a wonderful book. The story and characters are vivid, with the fictions threaded into historical events of the mid 1800s, especially the worlds of natural science and exploratory expeditions.
The Narwhal is a ship commanded by Zechariah Voorhees, a young, ambitious, charismatic young man. The ship sails north in 1855 to look for evidence of Franklin. They go along west coast of Greenland into Baffin Bay, into the waters around Baffin Island, and then north into Smith Bay where they become ice-bound for a winter. There is a crew of 15 and the novel is also the story of several of these men as they sail into the cold north: Dr. Boerhaave, the ship's surgeon; Ned Kynd, a young Irish immigrant who becomes a last minute replacement for a delinquent cook; and Erasmus Wells, a naturalist and friend of Zeke.
Lavinia, the sister of Erasmus and the betrothed of Zeke remains at home of course, living for the day when The Narwhal will return and she and Zeke can marry. Her companion and friend is Alexandra, who learns engraving as she works on illustrations for the scientific books that the men of discovery write when they return home. She does this with no recognition, as she is only a woman, yet she yearns to somehow escape the restricted life she sees as her future.
Troubles befall The Narwhal. Zeke becomes desperate as winter approaches. So far, there has been very little sign of Franklin and Zeke makes decisions based on his hopes of personal aggrandizement at the expense of his ship and crew. They spend a winter barely surviving, stuck in the ice and dark and bitter cold. They have a couple of fortuitous encounters with the Esquimaux who help them but who really wish to be left alone. Zeke does not understand this. He becomes more reckless and prepares one last overland trip as another August approaches and temperatures begin to fall again.
This is a grand adventure story, filled with observations of the natural world. There are beautifully written, elegant passages like this:
"A most remarkable event yesterday. The Esquimaux call it saugssat or so it sounds to my ear. A high tide two days ago, combined with a strong wind, opened a large lead in the cove. Into it poured hundreds of narwhals in search of breathing space and food. When the end of the lead froze over again the animals were trapped. It was horrible to see them thrashing around in the ever smaller hole, pushing each other underwater as they struggled for air, pulled tighter and tighter until their tusks projected above the surface like a forest of clashing spears."
Of the novels I've read this past year, two of them were notably superior to the others: The first was The Elegance of the Hedgehog. The second was this book, The Voyage of the Narwhal, both books illustrating again how fiction has the power to seduce, soothe, instruct and inspire, even in our techno-frenzied world.
The Narwhal is a ship commanded by Zechariah Voorhees, a young, ambitious, charismatic young man. The ship sails north in 1855 to look for evidence of Franklin. They go along west coast of Greenland into Baffin Bay, into the waters around Baffin Island, and then north into Smith Bay where they become ice-bound for a winter. There is a crew of 15 and the novel is also the story of several of these men as they sail into the cold north: Dr. Boerhaave, the ship's surgeon; Ned Kynd, a young Irish immigrant who becomes a last minute replacement for a delinquent cook; and Erasmus Wells, a naturalist and friend of Zeke.
Lavinia, the sister of Erasmus and the betrothed of Zeke remains at home of course, living for the day when The Narwhal will return and she and Zeke can marry. Her companion and friend is Alexandra, who learns engraving as she works on illustrations for the scientific books that the men of discovery write when they return home. She does this with no recognition, as she is only a woman, yet she yearns to somehow escape the restricted life she sees as her future.
Troubles befall The Narwhal. Zeke becomes desperate as winter approaches. So far, there has been very little sign of Franklin and Zeke makes decisions based on his hopes of personal aggrandizement at the expense of his ship and crew. They spend a winter barely surviving, stuck in the ice and dark and bitter cold. They have a couple of fortuitous encounters with the Esquimaux who help them but who really wish to be left alone. Zeke does not understand this. He becomes more reckless and prepares one last overland trip as another August approaches and temperatures begin to fall again.
This is a grand adventure story, filled with observations of the natural world. There are beautifully written, elegant passages like this:
"A most remarkable event yesterday. The Esquimaux call it saugssat or so it sounds to my ear. A high tide two days ago, combined with a strong wind, opened a large lead in the cove. Into it poured hundreds of narwhals in search of breathing space and food. When the end of the lead froze over again the animals were trapped. It was horrible to see them thrashing around in the ever smaller hole, pushing each other underwater as they struggled for air, pulled tighter and tighter until their tusks projected above the surface like a forest of clashing spears."
Of the novels I've read this past year, two of them were notably superior to the others: The first was The Elegance of the Hedgehog. The second was this book, The Voyage of the Narwhal, both books illustrating again how fiction has the power to seduce, soothe, instruct and inspire, even in our techno-frenzied world.
The Center of Everything by Laura Moriarty
Maggie left this novel here after she had read it, so I picked it up one day and found it one more well-written story of coming of age in America today.
It is the story of Evelyn (told in her voice), her mother Tina, her grandmother Eileen and Evelyn's schoolmates. Tina had a baby (Evelyn) out of wedlock and so is labeled a whore by her father and is estranged from him. Tina's mother is a good lady and after a fashion supports Tina and Evelyn but also is loyal to her husband and is also very much an evangelical, so Tina keeps her at a remove when Eileen pushes religion as a solution. That is one dynamic in this story.
Evelyn grows up in this novel, from a young elementary school age kid to a young woman who graduates from high-school. She watches her Mother make choices that keep them in poverty. But Evelyn is smart; she does well in school and several teachers help her. However, she is not a popular girl, mostly because she and her Mother live in poverty. They are eventually rescued somewhat when Tina reluctantly accepts welfare after she loses her job and has no money to fix her car. They live in a small Kansas town in an apartment complex. And then her mother gets pregnant. Along the way, Evelyn does make few friends and, while the cliches of high-school happen, they are cliches because these things DO happen, and the author is wonderful with dialogue and description and captures the yearning Evelyn feels, but also the turmoil and confusion she experiences as she matures.
Evelyn's story is realistic and rich with the poignancy of the lives of ordinary people trying to get by.
Paging through the book, I could find so many passages to illustrate why I liked this novel. Here is one just chosen randomly: "She's got a job now, working the desk of a motel in town. I see her walking to it in the evenings, coming home in the morning. She puts the flat of her hand over her eyes like a visor, and looks right into the rising sun. "
This is a vignette of their neighbor Mrs. Rowley whose husband up and left one day saying that if he stayed one more day with Mrs. Rowley he would start drinking again. Mrs. Rowley has a little dog she carries around. The dog's name is Jackie O.
It is the story of Evelyn (told in her voice), her mother Tina, her grandmother Eileen and Evelyn's schoolmates. Tina had a baby (Evelyn) out of wedlock and so is labeled a whore by her father and is estranged from him. Tina's mother is a good lady and after a fashion supports Tina and Evelyn but also is loyal to her husband and is also very much an evangelical, so Tina keeps her at a remove when Eileen pushes religion as a solution. That is one dynamic in this story.
Evelyn grows up in this novel, from a young elementary school age kid to a young woman who graduates from high-school. She watches her Mother make choices that keep them in poverty. But Evelyn is smart; she does well in school and several teachers help her. However, she is not a popular girl, mostly because she and her Mother live in poverty. They are eventually rescued somewhat when Tina reluctantly accepts welfare after she loses her job and has no money to fix her car. They live in a small Kansas town in an apartment complex. And then her mother gets pregnant. Along the way, Evelyn does make few friends and, while the cliches of high-school happen, they are cliches because these things DO happen, and the author is wonderful with dialogue and description and captures the yearning Evelyn feels, but also the turmoil and confusion she experiences as she matures.
Evelyn's story is realistic and rich with the poignancy of the lives of ordinary people trying to get by.
Paging through the book, I could find so many passages to illustrate why I liked this novel. Here is one just chosen randomly: "She's got a job now, working the desk of a motel in town. I see her walking to it in the evenings, coming home in the morning. She puts the flat of her hand over her eyes like a visor, and looks right into the rising sun. "
This is a vignette of their neighbor Mrs. Rowley whose husband up and left one day saying that if he stayed one more day with Mrs. Rowley he would start drinking again. Mrs. Rowley has a little dog she carries around. The dog's name is Jackie O.
Pursuit of Honor by Vince Flynn
Muslim al Qaeda terrorists strike in Washington, DC, killing nearly 200 people including. Of course, Mitch Rapp, the hero of many of Vince Flynn's novels, gets involved. Some of the terrorists are killed on the scene but three of them escape to, of all places, Iowa. So apprehending them is part of this story. At the same time, Rapp recognizes and deals with the burn-out of one of his black-op colleagues. Much of the action takes place in and around Washington. Again, Flynn makes the case that playing by the rules is just not effective against the really bad guys, but he also creates a tension in making one of the terrorists a more complex personality than the stereotype of a raving religious extremist.
I confess, I like the action and characters in Vince Flynn's books. I also admit they all run together in my mind after a month or so.
I confess, I like the action and characters in Vince Flynn's books. I also admit they all run together in my mind after a month or so.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Push by Sapphire
This is the book from which the movie Precious was made. I thought it was amazing. It is the story of a ghetto child, pregnant by her father (twice) and her disaster of a mother. It is set in Harlem and, in a way, illustrates the "power of one" yet again. I found it compelling, incredibly honest and provocative. This is a book that I hope many will read and remember. Walking along with Precious for a time cannot help but elicit more understanding and compassion for someone most of us would quite easily (if we are honest) label and dismiss.
Philosophy Made Simple by Robert Hellenga
A long time ago, Maggie recommended a book titled The Fall of a Sparrow by Robert Hellenga. While I remember almost nothing specifically about that book (and Maggie also did not remember it, although I am quite sure it was she who told me about it), I do remember I liked it (which is not uncommon for me, unfortunately, to know I liked a book or movie but not be able to articulate why exactly, mostly because I can't remember the details). The author teaches at Knox College and since Emily just started as a freshman there, I picked up this book somewhere...garage sale? library sale? and finally read it.
It was about Rudy, whose wife has been dead for a year, and whose three daughters are grown. They had all lived in a lovely home in Chicago, but Rudy rather impulsively decides to sell that home, move to Texas and buy an avocado grove. This is his story...as a relatively new widower, as a man at a cross-roads in life, as someone who is not ready for a retirement home. There is a bit of philosophy here and there as Rudy makes his way through a book of the same name, but mostly it is about his settling into a completely different life.
The book had a certain charm and I would read more by this author. I found the writing delightful and descriptive as he weaves the threads of Rudy's life into a cohesive story, even if it is somewhat fantastical. One of his daughters gets married to an East Indian and the wedding is in Texas. Rudy cooks a lot and muses about his life so far and has adventures of his own as the groom's relatives and Rudy's new Texan acquaintances all mill about in this story.
Robert Hellenga also wrote a book titled Blues Lessons that I will seek out and read, and his wife's name is Virginia. There are so many times I see the name Virginia and always think of my darling Virginia.....street names, bird names, plant names, various characters both real and fictionalized.
It was about Rudy, whose wife has been dead for a year, and whose three daughters are grown. They had all lived in a lovely home in Chicago, but Rudy rather impulsively decides to sell that home, move to Texas and buy an avocado grove. This is his story...as a relatively new widower, as a man at a cross-roads in life, as someone who is not ready for a retirement home. There is a bit of philosophy here and there as Rudy makes his way through a book of the same name, but mostly it is about his settling into a completely different life.
The book had a certain charm and I would read more by this author. I found the writing delightful and descriptive as he weaves the threads of Rudy's life into a cohesive story, even if it is somewhat fantastical. One of his daughters gets married to an East Indian and the wedding is in Texas. Rudy cooks a lot and muses about his life so far and has adventures of his own as the groom's relatives and Rudy's new Texan acquaintances all mill about in this story.
Robert Hellenga also wrote a book titled Blues Lessons that I will seek out and read, and his wife's name is Virginia. There are so many times I see the name Virginia and always think of my darling Virginia.....street names, bird names, plant names, various characters both real and fictionalized.
Cold Chinese Mushrooms with Bean Thread Noodles
There is a Asian market near the corner of Ottawa Beach road and River Avenue that has a nice variety of food products not available in the mainstream markets. Like live blue crabs and all sorts of vegetables not familiar to me. So I bought a product labeled "Dried Black Fungus," the bean thread noodles and sesame oil. I was apprehensive, since I haven't been impressed with many of the recipes lately and, after reconstituting the fungus, it looked like pale rubber. I cut that up into smaller pieces, added sesame oil, rice vinegar, lemon juice, soy sauce, maple syrup, scallions and sesame seeds, along with the bean thread noodles.
I brought it to Eunice and Tom's, since my family often will try anything and are not picky eaters (well, some of them aren't). The bean threads noodles were just soaked for 15 minutes after I had cut them into smaller pieces with a scissors. They are dry, thin and silvery-translucent and come in small bundles tied with string, about 8 bundles per package. I had to look on the Internet how to prepare them, as the packaging was in Chinese, and the recipe said to boil them but not for how long.
The fungus-noodles are served on a bed of greens. They tasted light and fresh although a bit bland, but, of course, to most Americans, they would. Eunice liked it. I took some of the leftovers home and ate it for lunch the following day, and it definitely was much tastier after marinating overnight. In fact, I thought it was delicious, and even the few salad greens stayed crisp enough. Again, it is a very clean and fresh-tasting salad.
This recipe confirms why I wanted to do this cooking-my-way-through a cookbook: I learned about black fungus (mushrooms) and bean thread noodles and how to prepare them, and discovered a new salad that I would and will prepare again. The sesame oil is imperative and flavors everything, so it stands to reason that a several-hour marinade intensifies the flavor. Sesame seeds are used as a garnish. I will also use more minced scallions next time.
I brought it to Eunice and Tom's, since my family often will try anything and are not picky eaters (well, some of them aren't). The bean threads noodles were just soaked for 15 minutes after I had cut them into smaller pieces with a scissors. They are dry, thin and silvery-translucent and come in small bundles tied with string, about 8 bundles per package. I had to look on the Internet how to prepare them, as the packaging was in Chinese, and the recipe said to boil them but not for how long.
The fungus-noodles are served on a bed of greens. They tasted light and fresh although a bit bland, but, of course, to most Americans, they would. Eunice liked it. I took some of the leftovers home and ate it for lunch the following day, and it definitely was much tastier after marinating overnight. In fact, I thought it was delicious, and even the few salad greens stayed crisp enough. Again, it is a very clean and fresh-tasting salad.
This recipe confirms why I wanted to do this cooking-my-way-through a cookbook: I learned about black fungus (mushrooms) and bean thread noodles and how to prepare them, and discovered a new salad that I would and will prepare again. The sesame oil is imperative and flavors everything, so it stands to reason that a several-hour marinade intensifies the flavor. Sesame seeds are used as a garnish. I will also use more minced scallions next time.
Balsamic Strawberries
Berries, sugar and balsamic vinegar. Not exactly "exquisite" or "transcendent," only mildly interesting.
Rich Baguette
Another yeast experiment but this recipe used all white flour, which is probably why I actually got a nice "smooth and unsticky" dough. And it tasted good, what with the 6 tablespoons of sugar along with dry milk, an egg, 6 tablespoons of butter, the flour and yeast. I still cannot begin to duplicate (and certainly will never surpass) those wonderful breads easily available in most bakeries, so this is a dilemma: how many more kneading sessions shall I do? Or do I begin skipping most of the bread recipes? It's a time-intensive way of feeding the birds, which is how most of the bread ends up. I did freeze the second "rich" baguette, but it was nothing special.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
I was sitting at the computer and glanced out into the yard. I saw a woodpecker and first dismissed it as a hairy, but almost immediately decided the gizz was off, so I looked closer. It was silently hammering on the side of a grand old maple tree in my woody backyard. It was brownish mottled on the belly and patterned black and white on the back. It's bill was straight and sharply pointed, very crisp to my eyes. And then I began to see some reddish blush on the throat and top of head. I don't see these woodpeckers very often so this was exciting. And even better, this bird stayed pretty much in the same spot on the same tree for hours.
Maria and Richard came and stayed overnight after we had a party at Tom and Eunice's. A YB sapsucker would be life bird for Maria but I didn't expect it to still be around the following day. There was a lot of wind in the night, lots of small branches and twigs all over and a group of neighbors' mailboxes were all askew due to either the wind or vandalism. We were watching the reconstruction at the mailbox scene when I remembered the sapsucker, looked out at the maple tree and it was there! So Maria got a good look at it.
Again, amazingly, this bird stayed in that same spot nearly the whole day. While at the computer, I need to look through a window and screen, and it was overcast today and the backyard is shady, so it looked like a clump of leaf litter hanging on the tree. Maria couldn't even see it for about 15 seconds as it was camouflaged somewhat. But when we looked closer and from a better window, it was very obvious. The white vertical "racing strip" and a suggestion of yellow belly, black and white head, with the above-menioned beginnings of red, thereby identifying this as an immature male.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Traver On Fishing by Robert Traver
Rober Traver of course is John Voelker best known for his novel Anatomy of a Murder. After that great literary success, Voelker quit his job on the Michigan Supreme Court and fly-fished, wrote, played cribbage and drank bourbon for the rest of his life. This is a collection from several of his books about how and why, where and with whom he fished and drank and played.
He is a wonderful writer, absolutely passionate about fly-fishing, specifically for native brook trout in secret places in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. He is witty, observant, irreverent.
His love for the woods and waterways of the Upper Peninsula is reason enough to read his stories. Or to read a poignant lovely vignette titled The Intruder. Or to laugh out loud as he writes of his friends and neighbors, his fellow Yoopers. Or to read hundreds of fine sentences like these:
"For trout, unlike men, will not--indeed cannot--live except where beauty dwells, so that any man who would catch a trout finds himself inevitably surrounded by beauty: he can't help himself."
"Since all fishing seems inevitably to involve progressive dementia, next summer I'll doubtless do my fishing from a streamside padded cell, for diversion making up long languid leaders of out of the dangling cobwebs."
"There is no substitute for fishing sense, and if a man doesn't have it, verily, he may cast like an angel and still use his creel largely to transport sandwiches and beer."
I have always felt it would be a wondrous thing to cast dry flies on trout-water with enviable skill, but since I will never do that, reading Robert Traver is a vicarious venture into this magic.
He is a wonderful writer, absolutely passionate about fly-fishing, specifically for native brook trout in secret places in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. He is witty, observant, irreverent.
His love for the woods and waterways of the Upper Peninsula is reason enough to read his stories. Or to read a poignant lovely vignette titled The Intruder. Or to laugh out loud as he writes of his friends and neighbors, his fellow Yoopers. Or to read hundreds of fine sentences like these:
"For trout, unlike men, will not--indeed cannot--live except where beauty dwells, so that any man who would catch a trout finds himself inevitably surrounded by beauty: he can't help himself."
"Since all fishing seems inevitably to involve progressive dementia, next summer I'll doubtless do my fishing from a streamside padded cell, for diversion making up long languid leaders of out of the dangling cobwebs."
"There is no substitute for fishing sense, and if a man doesn't have it, verily, he may cast like an angel and still use his creel largely to transport sandwiches and beer."
I have always felt it would be a wondrous thing to cast dry flies on trout-water with enviable skill, but since I will never do that, reading Robert Traver is a vicarious venture into this magic.
Finding Chandra by Scott Higham and Sari Horowitz
Chandra is Chandra Levy who disappeared in the summer of 2001 near Washington, DC. This is the story of her disappearance and, for a long time, the investigation of the main (and only) suspect, Gary Condit, a Congressman from California, with whom Chandry was having an affair.
The cover hype was that this book is "Washington's In Cold Blood.." Not even close. It was mildly interesting but no one emerged as a fully drawn character. As someone said on the radio this week in another context, but it applies here: "Washington is a seductive town..." It is, and power and sexual adventures and misadventures are common threads. Almost always, it has been powerful men who mesmerize the young women who come to work in Washington, and who then succumb to these men.
In the end, Gary Condit was not the murderer, but he lost his credibility, his power and position in Congress as the case remained unsolved for so long. The police were focused on Condit far too long, all the while ignoring most other suspects. The book makes that point and also focuses on Condit. Yet, there is almost nothing written about his family and how his behavior affected them, nor all that much written about Chandry. Don't write a book about such a case if so much is left unsaid.
Chandry's remains were found nearly a year later in Rock Creek Park, very close to where Ingmar Guandique had attacked other women during the spring and summer of 2001, but the news thrill and scandal of a married congressman who was involved sexually with a young woman who had disappeared preempted rational inquiry, or so it seems.
This is another sad story recounting the vulnerability of women from sexual predators, be they deviant and brutal and murderous or members of the powerful elite known as Congress.
The cover hype was that this book is "Washington's In Cold Blood.." Not even close. It was mildly interesting but no one emerged as a fully drawn character. As someone said on the radio this week in another context, but it applies here: "Washington is a seductive town..." It is, and power and sexual adventures and misadventures are common threads. Almost always, it has been powerful men who mesmerize the young women who come to work in Washington, and who then succumb to these men.
In the end, Gary Condit was not the murderer, but he lost his credibility, his power and position in Congress as the case remained unsolved for so long. The police were focused on Condit far too long, all the while ignoring most other suspects. The book makes that point and also focuses on Condit. Yet, there is almost nothing written about his family and how his behavior affected them, nor all that much written about Chandry. Don't write a book about such a case if so much is left unsaid.
Chandry's remains were found nearly a year later in Rock Creek Park, very close to where Ingmar Guandique had attacked other women during the spring and summer of 2001, but the news thrill and scandal of a married congressman who was involved sexually with a young woman who had disappeared preempted rational inquiry, or so it seems.
This is another sad story recounting the vulnerability of women from sexual predators, be they deviant and brutal and murderous or members of the powerful elite known as Congress.
The Steig Larsson Trilogy
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; The Girl Who Played with Fire; The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
All the action takes place in Sweden and that alone made reading these character and action-packed novels worth my time. I felt immersed in Swedish culture: coffee drinkers to rival the Dutch; summer chalets and cabins on the water and cold winters. The more general themes were computer hacking, sexual perversion, murders, journalistic integrity, the delicate balance between law enforcement and media, a more relaxed attitude towards sex (quite different from Christine O'Donnell's views), the proximity of Russia and the Baltic countries, and the intrigue of old crimes and modern punishments. I escaped for several days into this world.
The "girl" is Lisbeth Salander, an unlikely protagonist. Pierced and tattooed and socially inept, Lisbeth had been dismissed and discarded by most of society. She is now an adult and her character and her personal history were slowly developed in these novels. I was slightly weary of it all by the time I finished the last book but, for the most part, the plots, the many interesting and believable characters and the immersion into the Swedish landscape held my interest to the end.
All the action takes place in Sweden and that alone made reading these character and action-packed novels worth my time. I felt immersed in Swedish culture: coffee drinkers to rival the Dutch; summer chalets and cabins on the water and cold winters. The more general themes were computer hacking, sexual perversion, murders, journalistic integrity, the delicate balance between law enforcement and media, a more relaxed attitude towards sex (quite different from Christine O'Donnell's views), the proximity of Russia and the Baltic countries, and the intrigue of old crimes and modern punishments. I escaped for several days into this world.
The "girl" is Lisbeth Salander, an unlikely protagonist. Pierced and tattooed and socially inept, Lisbeth had been dismissed and discarded by most of society. She is now an adult and her character and her personal history were slowly developed in these novels. I was slightly weary of it all by the time I finished the last book but, for the most part, the plots, the many interesting and believable characters and the immersion into the Swedish landscape held my interest to the end.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Marinated Eggplant
Hmmmmm... While eggplant is quite a lovely color and an interesting-looking vegetable, I have not cooked with it more than once or twice. This dish is an appetizer. I sliced the eggplant, baked it and then immediately added garlic, dill, marjoram, parsley, lemon juice, olive oil and pepper, sprinkling all of these on the tops of the slices. Mollie says "...the ingredients will be in peak harmony" if it sits in refrigerator overnight. So that's what I did and the flavor harmony did happen. Unfortunately, this dish still did not make me an eggplant fan. It was just OK. I wondered if I would have been able to tell what I was eating if I were blindfolded. The texture is not firm, a bit soggy, and this diminished the appeal for me. Still, everyone has different tastes and it might appeal to some. It was much better eaten at room temperature than right from the refrigerator.
I suspect if one is writing a cookbook or is a chef and her main work is trying to creatively combine food ingredients, one has quite a different perspective on the issues of tastiness and successful recipes. How many tastings do they have on each recipe? How often have they made a particular dish? If they run a restaurant, how often is a recipe like Marinated Eggplant offered and what has been the feedback?
I am learning a lot about food combinations/preparations that I would never have tried were I not doing this. I am learning about fresh herbs and the utter importance of having at least one good KNIFE. I am learning about YEAST and kneading.
The timer is buzzing. My latest bread is about to come out of the oven and it smells damn good!
Tuscan Bean Soup
This was delicious! I used dried white beans, which soaked several hours, garlic, celery, carrots, green beans and a few odds and ends (salt, pepper, basil, lemon juice). The only thing I would do differently would be to add 1/2 to 1 cup more liquid. An easy, hearty, delicious fall soup. If this were made on a Saturday, it would be an easy nourishing supper meal a couple of nights during the upcoming week.
(I used Great Northern beans and they made a nice color contrast with the green beans and carrots.)
(I used Great Northern beans and they made a nice color contrast with the green beans and carrots.)
Cheese Nut Pate
Mollie says she thinks she has made this pate "more than any other recipe in the book." If so, she and I have quite different ideas of what is a success. This was definitely not something I would make again. It is something one would make and serve for a party. I am glad I didn't do that at any of my many soirees...
For the recipe, I mixed cream cheese, cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, a bit of minced onion, ground almonds and walnuts, lime juice, mustard, a bit of melted butter, dill, salt and pepper, baked it and then the idea was to garnish the whole thing, after extracting it from the loaf pan. Says Mollie, "The pate should emerge in one piece. If it breaks, you can easily mold it back together." I knew right then after reading this that it wouldn't unmold nicely and it didn't.
The garnish base is bland ricotta cheese spread all over the crumbly unstable load, after which one plays with nuts, olives radishes, cucumber slices and parsley to make it decorative (I guess). I admit I didn't do that since I hadn't made it for a group. Perhaps it might have been a bit more festive-looking at least. Mine looked like a salmon loaf, had only a mild, boring taste and it crumbled easily. I finally mixed the ricotta into the whole de-loafed shebang and tried a couple more times trying to convince myself it wasn't too bad. And it wasn't, but it wasn't that good either. I took some to the Wetzels and we never even tried it up there. I eventually threw too much in the garbage. I hate to do this, but....
So it goes when one is cooking one's way through a cookbook.
For the recipe, I mixed cream cheese, cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, a bit of minced onion, ground almonds and walnuts, lime juice, mustard, a bit of melted butter, dill, salt and pepper, baked it and then the idea was to garnish the whole thing, after extracting it from the loaf pan. Says Mollie, "The pate should emerge in one piece. If it breaks, you can easily mold it back together." I knew right then after reading this that it wouldn't unmold nicely and it didn't.
The garnish base is bland ricotta cheese spread all over the crumbly unstable load, after which one plays with nuts, olives radishes, cucumber slices and parsley to make it decorative (I guess). I admit I didn't do that since I hadn't made it for a group. Perhaps it might have been a bit more festive-looking at least. Mine looked like a salmon loaf, had only a mild, boring taste and it crumbled easily. I finally mixed the ricotta into the whole de-loafed shebang and tried a couple more times trying to convince myself it wasn't too bad. And it wasn't, but it wasn't that good either. I took some to the Wetzels and we never even tried it up there. I eventually threw too much in the garbage. I hate to do this, but....
So it goes when one is cooking one's way through a cookbook.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Least Sandpipers
Maria and I went to Ludington last Sunday and stopped by the best birding spot for shorebirds in that area, this being the sewage treatment plant. It actually isn't as bad as it sounds as the two lagoons are relatively odor-free (not so for the Muskegon Wastewater ponds). There are two ponds-lagoons in Ludington and also a lovely natural marsh just to the west.
We walked around the west lagoon and saw a few immature palm warblers and dozens of barn and tree swallows and thought that was it until we started back down the center dike which divided the two ponds. But then we noticed Lesser and Greater Yellowlegs and got good looks at them as they leisurely poked about, their long, long yellow legs highlighted by the eastern sun. They didn't spook and were very cooperative. We did agonize some over which Yellowlegs they were, but finally decided we saw both. Still, this isn't as easy as it seems. Slowly, slowly, after hours in the field and hours perusing various field guides, one gets better. The bill of the Greater can be ever so slightly upturned, and we saw that on a couple of them. These are good-sized shorebirds and easier both to see and sort out than the smaller sandpipers, a group of shorebirds that the field guides call "peeps" and which belong to the genus Calidris.
Many shorebirds migrate through the middle of the continent this time of year from their breeding grounds in far northern Canada to their wintering grounds in the southern US or South America. So there is a window of time to see them as they migrate when they stop to feed and rest. Still, in September the peeps are in fall adult, juvenile or molting plumages which generally means they are all brownish-grey on top and whitish-brown below, similar in size and bill length, with about six to eight different species possible in Michigan. They all probe for food at the water's edge. Of course, as one becomes a more skilled birder, separating them out and identifying them becomes easier. At Muskegon, they spook if one approaches too closely.
BUT, at Ludington, they seemed not to mind human proximity, and we got excellent close-up views of the Least Sandpiper which happens to be the only small peep to NOT have black legs. We easily saw yellowish-green legs, and therefore could positively ID these birds as Least Sandpipers. We were able to slowly walk right on by a couple of them, at a distance of perhaps 6 feet. It is always a thrill to see a bird so well and so easily. The sky was blue with large white clouds; there was a cool breeze with just enough warmth from the sun and no annoying bugs (which is often an issue at Muskegon). A nice day to be outside looking for birds.
We also saw a Solitary Sandpiper, not quite so close, but good enough to see its eye-ring. As, as it flew off, Maria spotted the very distinctly black and white barred outer tail-feathers. Perfect!
Back home at their lake later that day and the next morning, we saw a Bald Eagle and Great Blue Heron, both flying about the lake. And, with a noisy clattering as it flew to the suet feeder, a Pileated Woodpecker showed up periodically. This bird is always amazing to see: it has an all-black back with broad shoulders, a ridiculously skinny neck and a showy head with the sides (cheeks) striped black and white, and with a bright red crest-crown. As the bird would maneuver on the tree, the early morning sun lit the red crest so that it almost seemed to glow! This bird is nearly twice the size of bluejays and the other woodpeckers so generally other birds do not approach too closely while the Pileateds feed. They do begin vocalizing though if the Pileateds take too long. Maria and Richard have a perfect setup for observing bird behavior, in addition, of course, to the simple pleasures of watching so many species come and go from their several feeders.
We walked around the west lagoon and saw a few immature palm warblers and dozens of barn and tree swallows and thought that was it until we started back down the center dike which divided the two ponds. But then we noticed Lesser and Greater Yellowlegs and got good looks at them as they leisurely poked about, their long, long yellow legs highlighted by the eastern sun. They didn't spook and were very cooperative. We did agonize some over which Yellowlegs they were, but finally decided we saw both. Still, this isn't as easy as it seems. Slowly, slowly, after hours in the field and hours perusing various field guides, one gets better. The bill of the Greater can be ever so slightly upturned, and we saw that on a couple of them. These are good-sized shorebirds and easier both to see and sort out than the smaller sandpipers, a group of shorebirds that the field guides call "peeps" and which belong to the genus Calidris.
Many shorebirds migrate through the middle of the continent this time of year from their breeding grounds in far northern Canada to their wintering grounds in the southern US or South America. So there is a window of time to see them as they migrate when they stop to feed and rest. Still, in September the peeps are in fall adult, juvenile or molting plumages which generally means they are all brownish-grey on top and whitish-brown below, similar in size and bill length, with about six to eight different species possible in Michigan. They all probe for food at the water's edge. Of course, as one becomes a more skilled birder, separating them out and identifying them becomes easier. At Muskegon, they spook if one approaches too closely.
BUT, at Ludington, they seemed not to mind human proximity, and we got excellent close-up views of the Least Sandpiper which happens to be the only small peep to NOT have black legs. We easily saw yellowish-green legs, and therefore could positively ID these birds as Least Sandpipers. We were able to slowly walk right on by a couple of them, at a distance of perhaps 6 feet. It is always a thrill to see a bird so well and so easily. The sky was blue with large white clouds; there was a cool breeze with just enough warmth from the sun and no annoying bugs (which is often an issue at Muskegon). A nice day to be outside looking for birds.
We also saw a Solitary Sandpiper, not quite so close, but good enough to see its eye-ring. As, as it flew off, Maria spotted the very distinctly black and white barred outer tail-feathers. Perfect!
Back home at their lake later that day and the next morning, we saw a Bald Eagle and Great Blue Heron, both flying about the lake. And, with a noisy clattering as it flew to the suet feeder, a Pileated Woodpecker showed up periodically. This bird is always amazing to see: it has an all-black back with broad shoulders, a ridiculously skinny neck and a showy head with the sides (cheeks) striped black and white, and with a bright red crest-crown. As the bird would maneuver on the tree, the early morning sun lit the red crest so that it almost seemed to glow! This bird is nearly twice the size of bluejays and the other woodpeckers so generally other birds do not approach too closely while the Pileateds feed. They do begin vocalizing though if the Pileateds take too long. Maria and Richard have a perfect setup for observing bird behavior, in addition, of course, to the simple pleasures of watching so many species come and go from their several feeders.
Tree Swallows
Swallows can drive birders crazy but occasionally they do sit still and not swoop madly about. I stopped by the Muskegon Wastewater last Friday on my way to Townsend and discovered (I have no idea WHY) hundreds and hundreds of tree swallows hanging out in the middle of the road north of the east lagoon. Hundreds. I drove slowly and they would fly out of harm's way but only at the last minute. The "white tertial tips" of fall adults and juveniles were very evident.
A Thread of Sky by Deanna Fei
A wonderful multigenerational novel: Three ABCs (American Born Chinese) sisters travel to China with their Mother, their aunt and their grandmother. They are not especially close to one another. The trip is an impulsive gesture and a gift from their Mother, who is the only one who really wishes to spend time with all of them. They go, but reluctantly, and their daily routines and relationships are briefly interrupted. The separate stories of all the women are told as they make their way to and through the "must sees" on a 2-week guided tour of China. It is a fluent novel and the characters are separate individuals, but also bound by history and genetics and an unpracticed, unspoken love.
I found it interesting that it seems anyone who is not white in America is perceived as not really belonging here, including these Asian girls who never lived in China and were born in America. There are so many new books currently being written by non-white authors. While these novels are often sobering, they also educate and enlighten us with their tales of very different lives in countries far removed from North America.
The author was born in New York and is a public school teacher. This is her first novel.
I found it interesting that it seems anyone who is not white in America is perceived as not really belonging here, including these Asian girls who never lived in China and were born in America. There are so many new books currently being written by non-white authors. While these novels are often sobering, they also educate and enlighten us with their tales of very different lives in countries far removed from North America.
The author was born in New York and is a public school teacher. This is her first novel.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Safe From the Neighbors by Steve Yarbrough
Luke May is the main character in this novel. He has a wife and twin daughters. The family lives in a small town in Mississippi where Luke is a high-school history teacher. As the novel begins, his daughters have just entered Ole Miss as freshmen. The threads of the story are events occurring in the present time and events which happened in the the early 60s, especially 1962, when James Meredith becomes the first African American to attend the University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) in Oxford, Mississippi.
Luke's father was a somewhat reluctant racist, probably not uncommon in that time and place. His father's good friend and their neighbor was a man named Arlan. However, Arlan was more affluent, he had a sexy extroverted wife, and this friendship becomes complicated as sexual and racial tensions increase. Luke grows up not understanding much of what is going on, but begins to seriously question his father's involvement in the murder of Arlan's wife and his father's role in the riots surrounding James Meredith's enrollment when Arlan's daughter moves back to fill in as a French teacher in the school where Luke teaches. Luke's parents are still alive, although his Mother has Alzheimer's.
While this is a novel with the common modern themes of love and sex and angst of aging, the author also writes of the racial turbulence of the 60s, a theme that is currently being reprised, IMO, as the proposed site of a mosque in Manhattan is being vehemently and viciously opposed. I like the way some writers of fiction place their stories on a broader historical canvas, as does this author.
Luke's father was a somewhat reluctant racist, probably not uncommon in that time and place. His father's good friend and their neighbor was a man named Arlan. However, Arlan was more affluent, he had a sexy extroverted wife, and this friendship becomes complicated as sexual and racial tensions increase. Luke grows up not understanding much of what is going on, but begins to seriously question his father's involvement in the murder of Arlan's wife and his father's role in the riots surrounding James Meredith's enrollment when Arlan's daughter moves back to fill in as a French teacher in the school where Luke teaches. Luke's parents are still alive, although his Mother has Alzheimer's.
While this is a novel with the common modern themes of love and sex and angst of aging, the author also writes of the racial turbulence of the 60s, a theme that is currently being reprised, IMO, as the proposed site of a mosque in Manhattan is being vehemently and viciously opposed. I like the way some writers of fiction place their stories on a broader historical canvas, as does this author.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Making Toast by Roger Rosenblatt
Roger and Ginny Rosenblatt's grown, but still young, daughter Amy died very suddenly of a rare heart malfunction. She was at home on her treadmill and died nearly instantly. She left her husband, Harris, and three small children, Jessica, Sammy and Bubbies (James). Roger and Ginny move in and begin to help care for Harris and the grandchildren. This book covers the first year following Amy's death. It is a lovely, moving, unique book. Once grandparents, they now become parents along with Harris. Roger makes toast every morning for the kids, and he also has a Word for the Morning each day. He and Ginny braid their lives into those of the children and Harris. There are the everyday vignettes of life with three small kids, funny at times and poignant also, the moments of grief, the remembrances of Amy's life, the attentive goodness of family and friends and the knowledge that the constancy of love is a gift, both given and received.
Blindsided by Jim Cole
Subtitled: Surviving a Grizzly Attack and Still Loving the Great Bear.
Jim Cole survived TWO grizzly attacks, one in Glacier NP and one, far more serious, in Yellowstone NP. This book, however, is a paean to wilderness and the need to preserve it, for the sake of these great carnivores and for ourselves. He reiterates over and over how the bear is seldom at fault when a human is attacked. He feels both of his attacks happened because he surprised the bears. (NOTE: Make noise while hiking in bear country.)
He has hiked nearly 30,000 miles in Montana, Alaska and Wyoming, mostly because he absolutely loved these wild lands. For anyone who also has an ongoing love affair with our Western landscape, this book is worth reading. The land is under constant onslaught by trophy homes, and Jim Cole PLEADS with us to do what we can to preserve as much land as possible from development. The book is written well enough, but it is a bit disconcerting as the author mentions that he was criticized for getting too close to the bears or as he perhaps tries too hard to make the grizzly not a threat. I did wonder if there were more to the stories than he chose to tell. Still, he had a huge passion for these magnificent creatures and for the absolutely lovely National Parks that are their home.
So, the other day I was drinking coffee with Dave at JPs, and he mentioned the fatal grizzly attack that happened this summer in a Yellowstone campground. The man who was killed was in a tent, and a sow grizzly with cubs rampaged through the campground, also injuring two other campers in separate tents. (BTW, the victim was from Grand Rapids, Michigan. )
Not knowing the details, I went home and read about the attack on the Internet. It was odd, by all accounts. Food storage had been proper; the grizzly did not seem injured. I googled Jim Cole, the author of Blindsided, since I was curious how he would spin this attack which seemed to be at odds with his theories. And, weird! He had just died, been found dead in his bed, supposedly dying in his sleep. There was not much about what happened to him. He was not an old man. This was strange coming as it did just after the tragedy in Yellowstone and just after his book was published. I am still wondering what happened.
While I never questioned his love for the grizzly--the Great Bear--I personally would NEVER feel any ease sleeping in a tent in grizzly country. I have done this and was glad when morning came and I was still intact. I have hiked in Glacier NP and one always knows the possibility (very, very unlikely statistically, but still not the way I would like to end a hike or my life) of a grizz attack. I have seen grizzlies in Glacier twice, and both times they were far, far away and I was thrilled, both to see them and that they were a long way off.
I would recommend this book, though, as it is a heartfelt testimonial of the philosophy of: In Wildness Is the Preservation of the World. I suspect, Jim Cole was a controversial figure, eccentric and egocentric, but to have survived two separate attacks by grizzlies and then to be able to write so movingly about these experiences is pretty amazing.
Jim Cole survived TWO grizzly attacks, one in Glacier NP and one, far more serious, in Yellowstone NP. This book, however, is a paean to wilderness and the need to preserve it, for the sake of these great carnivores and for ourselves. He reiterates over and over how the bear is seldom at fault when a human is attacked. He feels both of his attacks happened because he surprised the bears. (NOTE: Make noise while hiking in bear country.)
He has hiked nearly 30,000 miles in Montana, Alaska and Wyoming, mostly because he absolutely loved these wild lands. For anyone who also has an ongoing love affair with our Western landscape, this book is worth reading. The land is under constant onslaught by trophy homes, and Jim Cole PLEADS with us to do what we can to preserve as much land as possible from development. The book is written well enough, but it is a bit disconcerting as the author mentions that he was criticized for getting too close to the bears or as he perhaps tries too hard to make the grizzly not a threat. I did wonder if there were more to the stories than he chose to tell. Still, he had a huge passion for these magnificent creatures and for the absolutely lovely National Parks that are their home.
So, the other day I was drinking coffee with Dave at JPs, and he mentioned the fatal grizzly attack that happened this summer in a Yellowstone campground. The man who was killed was in a tent, and a sow grizzly with cubs rampaged through the campground, also injuring two other campers in separate tents. (BTW, the victim was from Grand Rapids, Michigan. )
Not knowing the details, I went home and read about the attack on the Internet. It was odd, by all accounts. Food storage had been proper; the grizzly did not seem injured. I googled Jim Cole, the author of Blindsided, since I was curious how he would spin this attack which seemed to be at odds with his theories. And, weird! He had just died, been found dead in his bed, supposedly dying in his sleep. There was not much about what happened to him. He was not an old man. This was strange coming as it did just after the tragedy in Yellowstone and just after his book was published. I am still wondering what happened.
While I never questioned his love for the grizzly--the Great Bear--I personally would NEVER feel any ease sleeping in a tent in grizzly country. I have done this and was glad when morning came and I was still intact. I have hiked in Glacier NP and one always knows the possibility (very, very unlikely statistically, but still not the way I would like to end a hike or my life) of a grizz attack. I have seen grizzlies in Glacier twice, and both times they were far, far away and I was thrilled, both to see them and that they were a long way off.
I would recommend this book, though, as it is a heartfelt testimonial of the philosophy of: In Wildness Is the Preservation of the World. I suspect, Jim Cole was a controversial figure, eccentric and egocentric, but to have survived two separate attacks by grizzlies and then to be able to write so movingly about these experiences is pretty amazing.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Home Game or The Accidental Guide to Fatherhood by Michael Lewis
I laughed out loud throughout this book. Lewis is a best-selling author (Blind Side, Moneyball, The Big Short) but this book is about his adventures as a new father...his honest reactions, his reluctance to engage, his less than noble feelings. It is a wonderful book for those parents who finally get around to having kids in their late 30s and into their 40s. His wife is Tabitha; his kids are Quinn, Dixie and Walker. The cover of the paperback is wonderful, isn't it?
Going Rogue by Sarah Palin
I am glad I read this book, but I have to admit (coward that I am) that it was a book I didn't read in public for fear someone (yeah, like so many people are just watching everything I do) would think I was a fan. I'm not, but I respect Sarah Palin more after reading her book. I have no idea what the REAL back story is; perhaps, there is so much more that she chose not to write, and perhaps she generously edited events in her favor, but there was enough in Going Rogue to at least make me sit back and wonder about the machinations of some of the media (a lot of the media) and John McCain's advisors/managers during and after the campaign. This is her side of the stories we all heard, and about which most of us Democrats rolled our eyes. In this book, to her credit, she never once said anything negative about McCain and seemed to have the highest respect for him and his wife, and she made very few negative comments about Obama or Hillary Clinton, or even the Democrats except in general ways as she disagrees politically.
Sarah Palin truly admired Ronald Reagan. She barely mentions other Republican presidents. She believes in and knows about fossil fuel energy, and even occasionally gives a nod to alternative energy sources. She did a lot for Alaska, but I cringe to think that she COULD be President (truly a remote possibility, I hope), not because she isn't intelligent enough but because she has utmost confidence in her skewed beliefs and philosophies which, in my opinion, are way too parochial and limited, and unfortunately probably racist. It may be that she thinks what worked in Alaska would work in the country as a whole. LIving in Alaska for almost her whole life, with its land and space and resources and lack of diversity has certainly shaped her perspectives, and she has easy responses to why government shouldn't be involved as much as it is. It is hard to tell how her personal beliefs would influence her policies. Maybe not as much as we think, but then again......
I do think she is an extraordinary woman in what she has accomplished and in that she continues to have the energy and passion and (perhaps) ambition to be a catalyst for political change.
What happened when I read this book is that I admired her personally but not politically. She is a mother, a wife, a professional...she seems to handle all of it without too much ado, nor does she seem to take herself all that seriously (could be wrong here....) I did not get the impression that she was unduly bothered by the angst of most modern women. Perhaps I am naive, but Sarah Palin seems to be a very grounded modern woman, with a supportive, lively family, juggling it all. She is physically active; she is a mother and wife and participates in the lives of her kids and her husband in ordinary ways; she has a large extended family and dozens of friends, and she has a solid faith, but does not seem dogmatic or uncompassionate, or too judgmental or critical (could be wrong....)
Not that I don't have reservations and curiosity about how faithful to the truth she was in her book, but I won't be as quick to dismiss her. On the other hand, I am certainly thankful she and McCain are not in the White House.
UPDATE 08/28/2010: I am reconsidering my opinion of SP....let's see what happens today at the Mall.
Sarah Palin truly admired Ronald Reagan. She barely mentions other Republican presidents. She believes in and knows about fossil fuel energy, and even occasionally gives a nod to alternative energy sources. She did a lot for Alaska, but I cringe to think that she COULD be President (truly a remote possibility, I hope), not because she isn't intelligent enough but because she has utmost confidence in her skewed beliefs and philosophies which, in my opinion, are way too parochial and limited, and unfortunately probably racist. It may be that she thinks what worked in Alaska would work in the country as a whole. LIving in Alaska for almost her whole life, with its land and space and resources and lack of diversity has certainly shaped her perspectives, and she has easy responses to why government shouldn't be involved as much as it is. It is hard to tell how her personal beliefs would influence her policies. Maybe not as much as we think, but then again......
I do think she is an extraordinary woman in what she has accomplished and in that she continues to have the energy and passion and (perhaps) ambition to be a catalyst for political change.
What happened when I read this book is that I admired her personally but not politically. She is a mother, a wife, a professional...she seems to handle all of it without too much ado, nor does she seem to take herself all that seriously (could be wrong here....) I did not get the impression that she was unduly bothered by the angst of most modern women. Perhaps I am naive, but Sarah Palin seems to be a very grounded modern woman, with a supportive, lively family, juggling it all. She is physically active; she is a mother and wife and participates in the lives of her kids and her husband in ordinary ways; she has a large extended family and dozens of friends, and she has a solid faith, but does not seem dogmatic or uncompassionate, or too judgmental or critical (could be wrong....)
Not that I don't have reservations and curiosity about how faithful to the truth she was in her book, but I won't be as quick to dismiss her. On the other hand, I am certainly thankful she and McCain are not in the White House.
UPDATE 08/28/2010: I am reconsidering my opinion of SP....let's see what happens today at the Mall.
Country Bread
I got up Saturday morning and quickly started in. There were still 2 recipes in the current menu that need to be made. This bread is one and the other (which I may make later today) is Cheese-Nut Pate.
It's been very hot and the yeast-knead thing is hard work. I procrastinated but I have no room in this project to skip a recipe or move ahead without making every single soup, salad, bread, dessert, etc. And yeast projects have not been particularly successful for me so far. This time it all went better. The yeast actually foamed up; the kneading was doable early in the morning; and the final product was tasty. Oat flour, rye flour, white flour, sugar, butter, salt... I still cannot imagine doing this regularly though, but perhaps that's because I am not much of a bread or sandwich eater.
Summertime by J. M. Coetzee
What is this book? Autobiography? Novel? Non-fiction? A bit of all of those. Coetzee writes about himself as if he were deceased and, in this book, a would-be biographer interviews five people who knew Coetzee in the 70s, who knew him prior to his fame as a writer. As I read the book, I would go back and forth between thinking this was written by a man who needs to stop obsessing about himself, stop the endless, wearying introspection AND thinking it was a clever and original way of writing about oneself.
I didn't know much about Coetzee except that the milieu for his books is South Africa. He was apparently raised in the stern Dutch Protestant-Abrahma Kuyper tradition, but "saved" somewhat by his Mother's more enlightened ideas about educating a child. However, that material is not in this book. Instead, there is commentary about the South Africa of Afrikaners, British, Coloured and Africans on the verge of change. These imminent changes are not the story, only the background, as the narrator tries to glean significance about John Coetzee from those he interviews.
I liked the book more as I read it, and a definite, quite precise characterization of Coetzee in that time frame is the end result. (He currently lives in Adelaide, Australia.)
Here is one vignette about his cousin Margot (one of those interviewed) and her husband Lukas who have a small farm but also have second jobs, and we find out that they work so hard so as to be able to "house their workers properly and pay them a decent wage and make sure their children went to school and support those same workers later when they grew old and infirm..." This sort of simple observation tells so much; it is what good writers can do.
I didn't know much about Coetzee except that the milieu for his books is South Africa. He was apparently raised in the stern Dutch Protestant-Abrahma Kuyper tradition, but "saved" somewhat by his Mother's more enlightened ideas about educating a child. However, that material is not in this book. Instead, there is commentary about the South Africa of Afrikaners, British, Coloured and Africans on the verge of change. These imminent changes are not the story, only the background, as the narrator tries to glean significance about John Coetzee from those he interviews.
I liked the book more as I read it, and a definite, quite precise characterization of Coetzee in that time frame is the end result. (He currently lives in Adelaide, Australia.)
Here is one vignette about his cousin Margot (one of those interviewed) and her husband Lukas who have a small farm but also have second jobs, and we find out that they work so hard so as to be able to "house their workers properly and pay them a decent wage and make sure their children went to school and support those same workers later when they grew old and infirm..." This sort of simple observation tells so much; it is what good writers can do.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Every Last One by Anna Quindlen
Am I glad I read this? I don't know. There are vignettes and sentences and descriptions of the dynamics of a modern family told in the skillful way Anna Quindlen can. She is an established writer with many good books already written. This novel is in the genre of The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold or Cage of Stars by Mitchard. I wonder why these women write novels with such story lines? Not just for profit, right? Of course I found it compelling but also think that ultimately these novels with their nearly unbearable events add a layer to the dark distractions in our minds of disturbing images and possibilities that wait there for us in our vulnerable moments. It's just a novel, I know, but.......Of course, there is much more to this novel than the cataclysmic event, much more that is redemptive / instructive as we all try to figure out relationships with our families, with our parents, with our kids, with our friends. AQ always does well with this material. Maybe it is a matter of getting our attention in the first place. That must be getting more and more difficult in our media-saturated world.
Zeitoun by David Eggers
Zeitoun is the last name of a Muslim family who live in New Orleans and who also lived there when Katrina arrived. This is their specific story set in the general context of Katrina and its immediate aftermath. It is thought-provoking and certainly raises issues about what happens as the infrastructure fails and how quickly some members of our society (the poor and sick and those with little primary support) find themselves in survival mode. David Eggers is a good writer. In addition to the particulars of what happens to the Zeitoun family, we learn, again, about these disenfranchised as the levees fail and water pours into and over New Orleans.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Term Limits by VInce Flynn
A typical Vince Flynn political thriller. Bad guys close to the President and good guys working for the CIA, FBI, etc. A disgruntled young congressman, his Irish grandfather, retired "spooks" and Navy SEALS, etc. Lots of technology and chases and murders and meetings and deals. I read this while in Washington, DC, which was fun, as the neighborhoods and buildings and streets and geography of that area were the venues for the story. An airplane book as Bob O said, or a beach book.....
Reading this type of book always makes me wonder how much actually does happen "behind the scenes." Of course, the mayhem and resolutions did get a bit contrived at times, but still, it kept my interest to the end.
Reading this type of book always makes me wonder how much actually does happen "behind the scenes." Of course, the mayhem and resolutions did get a bit contrived at times, but still, it kept my interest to the end.
Loving Frank by Nancy Horan
This is the second book I have recently read about Frank Lloyd Wright. The other was The Women by T.C. Boyle which told the tales of three of Frank's love affairs subsequent to his first marriage to Catherine, the mother of six of his children.
Loving Frank is all about the second woman in his life, Mamah Borthwick, the wife of a client who had hired Frank to be the architect for a home in Oak Park, Illinois. Frank and Catherine also lived in Oak Park. Mamah's husband was Edgar, and they had two small children. She leaves Edgar for Frank and this is her story.
Obviously, some of the material in these two books cover the same characters and historical time, but both are compelling, well written, descriptive stories. Frank and Mamah were subjected to intense societal pressures but slowly were accepted by the farming community around Taliesin in Wisconsin. Still, their lives were very difficult at times, especially for Mamah. Although she was an early feminist, there are never simple solutions to the reality of abandoning a kind and considerate husband, along with two small children, of loving a difficult, highly creative, driven artist, of finding time to pursue her own literary efforts of writing and translating. Mamah was beautiful and educated and is portrayed in this book as a kind and deeply caring woman. Of course she will always be in the shadow of FLW, but she was also a strong character and this portrait of their lives together is a tribute to her.
Loving Frank is all about the second woman in his life, Mamah Borthwick, the wife of a client who had hired Frank to be the architect for a home in Oak Park, Illinois. Frank and Catherine also lived in Oak Park. Mamah's husband was Edgar, and they had two small children. She leaves Edgar for Frank and this is her story.
Obviously, some of the material in these two books cover the same characters and historical time, but both are compelling, well written, descriptive stories. Frank and Mamah were subjected to intense societal pressures but slowly were accepted by the farming community around Taliesin in Wisconsin. Still, their lives were very difficult at times, especially for Mamah. Although she was an early feminist, there are never simple solutions to the reality of abandoning a kind and considerate husband, along with two small children, of loving a difficult, highly creative, driven artist, of finding time to pursue her own literary efforts of writing and translating. Mamah was beautiful and educated and is portrayed in this book as a kind and deeply caring woman. Of course she will always be in the shadow of FLW, but she was also a strong character and this portrait of their lives together is a tribute to her.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Roasted and Marinated Green Beans with Onions and Garlic Cloves
This was delicious! Hot or cold. Green beans, several garlic cloves cut in half, and a red onion, roasted about 25 minutes with some olive oil and then sprinkled with balsamic vinegar immediately after removing from the oven. Really, this was very tasty.
Golden Pear Soup
This was more like a smoothie than a soup. It had a delightful, rather sweet taste and was made with sweet potatoes (cooked with a cinnamon stick) and pears sauteed in butter which were then blended together with a little white wine and a dollop of cream added just before serving. Easy to make. I just don't know exactly when I would serve this. Like, it doesn't seem like a soup course; it certainly isn't a main meal...Maybe just a light noon meal with a small green salad or home-made bread with butter...
(I am still not exactly a convert to blended, pureed food, though this WAS quite tasty...)
(I am still not exactly a convert to blended, pureed food, though this WAS quite tasty...)
Alice Waters and Chez Panisse by Thomas McNamee
What a story! Alice Waters started her restaurant, Chez Panisse, on Shattuck Street in Berkeley, California in August of 1971. This is the story of both Alice herself and the restaurant. It is wonderfully written. I had a vague idea of who Alice Waters was, or who I thought she was, but I really didn't know much and what I thought I knew wasn't accurate. Like, I thought she was a California flower child who had a very successful vegetarian restaurant. Not exactly....
Her love of food prepared with the very freshest ingredients became a food philosophy that has earned her plaudits all over the world from all sorts of food critics and chefs. As the restaurant (finally) became profitable and her staff (the Chez Panisse famille) were able to carry on without her presence all the time, she began to travel and speak and devote her restless energies into projects like The Edible Schoolyard (gardens in schoolyards, starting with the Martin Luther King, Jr. Middle School in Berkeley), the Slow Food movement, or trying to convince Bill and Hillary Clinton to have gardens at the White House and to openly endorse her passion in trying to arrest the the processes, both of how food is chosen and consumed in the US and how it is produced. She is such a presence in the world of foodies, even though she does not like that term. A dinner at Chez Panisse in 2010 probably costs nearly $100 but most of the diners find the experience and taste memorable and worthy of that price.
The book is a treat in itself, as the author follows the staff, all the changes and Alice herself through the last 50 years. She is now 66 years old and continues to live life to the fullest, always intending to live with more grace and reflection and serenity but probably not succeeding very often.
There are a few haphazard recipes in the book, mostly just complementing a particular chef or staff member or illustrating Alice's way of explaining how she thinks of food..never precise measurements, always open to experiment, taking advantage of whatever is available and fresh. The author nicely balances the tales of Alice's personal life with her public life. He tells the tales without malice and without too much adulation, always acknowledging the amazing tenacity, creativity and vision of Alice Waters. She does have detractors and the author also includes some of the comments from those less enchanted with Ms. Waters, but mostly this chronology is a tribute to her.
Now, having said all that, I am left with how complicated it SEEMS to cook, eat and live this way...the foraging all over our "neighborhoods" for local, clean food, the time needed to do this and then to prepare (think peeling dozens of baby root vegetables) these meals, the education necessary to reach the millions who drive through the fast food franchises each day opting for a super-sized meal, the total commitment to slowing down as we eat with our families and friends. Not that I don't agree with and totally admire her efforts...I guess we do what we can, each of us, in whatever small or large ways that we are able.
Anyway, Thomas McNamee has written a book about which Jim Harrison says, "Over and above Waters's obvious leadership in the food revolution, McNamee's work is as compelling as a very good novel."
Her love of food prepared with the very freshest ingredients became a food philosophy that has earned her plaudits all over the world from all sorts of food critics and chefs. As the restaurant (finally) became profitable and her staff (the Chez Panisse famille) were able to carry on without her presence all the time, she began to travel and speak and devote her restless energies into projects like The Edible Schoolyard (gardens in schoolyards, starting with the Martin Luther King, Jr. Middle School in Berkeley), the Slow Food movement, or trying to convince Bill and Hillary Clinton to have gardens at the White House and to openly endorse her passion in trying to arrest the the processes, both of how food is chosen and consumed in the US and how it is produced. She is such a presence in the world of foodies, even though she does not like that term. A dinner at Chez Panisse in 2010 probably costs nearly $100 but most of the diners find the experience and taste memorable and worthy of that price.
The book is a treat in itself, as the author follows the staff, all the changes and Alice herself through the last 50 years. She is now 66 years old and continues to live life to the fullest, always intending to live with more grace and reflection and serenity but probably not succeeding very often.
There are a few haphazard recipes in the book, mostly just complementing a particular chef or staff member or illustrating Alice's way of explaining how she thinks of food..never precise measurements, always open to experiment, taking advantage of whatever is available and fresh. The author nicely balances the tales of Alice's personal life with her public life. He tells the tales without malice and without too much adulation, always acknowledging the amazing tenacity, creativity and vision of Alice Waters. She does have detractors and the author also includes some of the comments from those less enchanted with Ms. Waters, but mostly this chronology is a tribute to her.
Now, having said all that, I am left with how complicated it SEEMS to cook, eat and live this way...the foraging all over our "neighborhoods" for local, clean food, the time needed to do this and then to prepare (think peeling dozens of baby root vegetables) these meals, the education necessary to reach the millions who drive through the fast food franchises each day opting for a super-sized meal, the total commitment to slowing down as we eat with our families and friends. Not that I don't agree with and totally admire her efforts...I guess we do what we can, each of us, in whatever small or large ways that we are able.
Anyway, Thomas McNamee has written a book about which Jim Harrison says, "Over and above Waters's obvious leadership in the food revolution, McNamee's work is as compelling as a very good novel."
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