House of Happy Endings, Finale

I finished House of Happy Endings over the weekend and I'm on the fence. The book mainly focused on Leslie's father's depression and how it affected the rest of the family. At certain points she was just relaying information from her father's medical records. Other times the story felt repetitive: he's depressed, he collapsed, he's addicted to barbiturates, they have no money, he can't get out of his own father's shadow...Repeat. In this case, the story could be a little boring.

However, I do think the book can be considered an interesting case study in depression. The book demonstrates that while depression may be an individual's disease, the disease does not affect only the individual. Leslie, her brothers and her mother woke up each day not knowing what to expect. Would dad get out of bed today? Would he spend their nonexistent money on a new car? Would they need an ambulance? With most everything they did they had to consider the father's mental health and well-being. The fact that the children grew up a bit different than other children, or the fact that by the time she was 50 years old the mother was at her wit's end, is no surprise - and actually quite sad.

So, if what the book accomplishes is to get readers to look at depression differently and understand it's OK to ask for help (because life is too short), then I think it's met its purpose.

House of Happy Endings

I'm reading Leslie Garis' memoir about her life with famous writers for grandparents and parents. I've just finished Part I, which has been mostly backstory and the lead up to Leslie's father's mental illness. While the book isn't overly engaging, it's interesting for the most part. I hope it will get more engaging as we get into the meat of the story. Here's the publisher's synopsis:

Howard Garis, creator of the famed Uncle Wiggily series, along with his wife, Lilian, were phenomenally productive writers of popular children’s series—including The Bobbsey Twins and Tom Swift—from the turn of the century to the 1950s. In a large, romantic house in Amherst, Massachusetts, Leslie Garis, her two brothers, and their parents and grandparents aimed to live a life that mirrored the idyllic world the elder Garises created nonstop. But inside The Dell—where Robert Frost often sat in conversation over sherry, and stories appeared to spring from the very air—all was not right. Roger Garis’s inability to match his parents’ success in his own work as playwright, novelist, and magazine writer led to his conviction that he was a failure as father, husband, and son, and eventually deepened into mental illness characterized by raging mood swings, drug abuse, and bouts of debilitating and destructive depression. House of Happy Endings is Leslie Garis’s mesmerizing, tender, and harrowing account of coming of age in a wildly imaginative, loving, but fatally wounded family.

Dreams From My Father, Finale

I finished this book today. It took me a little longer than I expected since I got sick last week and reading was the last thing I wanted to do. I really enjoyed reading about Obama's journey to find his ancestry. The last section was about his extended stay in Kenya where he met more relatives than you can even imagine. While most of the Kenya section was very informational and interesting to read about, some was a tad slow. But I admire him for going there, meeting a whole bunch of strangers who feel they have ownership of him, to find out the truth of his past and his father's past. Not very many people do that in life.

But what struck me most about Kenya and his family there, is, man, what they must think of him now. They were so proud of him back then, and definitely brought him down to Earth about who he was, but imagine what they think of him being president of the United States. That has to be nearly unfathomable to them, yet I bet deep down they knew he'd do big things.

I'm very glad I read this book and got to know our president better. I know not everyone feels this way, but I think it's nice that our president came from a similar background as a majority of the people in this country. Single mom, middle-class, worked his tail off to get into Harvard. He didn't get where he is today by the power of anyone but himself. So, truly, any child can look at him and know you can be anything you want to be.

Dreams From My Father, Part II

The second part of Dreams From My Father brings Obama to Chicago as a community organizer. During his campaign, Obama got a little flack for claiming his work as a community organizer was "executive" experience. When you read all the work he had to do during his first three years in Chicago, you can surely believe he has the gumption it takes to organize the varitey of people in D.C.

The work that he did with the people of the south side of Chicago is pretty amazing. Community organizing is a thankless job for not a lot of money (depending), and you really have to believe in what you're doing. Once again, reading about this part of his life, proved to me that our president is true to himself, even today.

Here are a few passages I found particularly interesting. This one is somewhat future-predicting, and maybe acts as a window into what Obama may feel as president:

"I wondered whether, away from the spotlight, Harold [Washington, Chicago's first black mayor, 1983-1987] thought about those constraints [that nothing seemed to change]. Whether like Mr. Anderson or Mrs. Reese or any number of other black officials who now administered over inner city life, he felt as trapped as those he served, an inheritor of sad history, part of a closed system with few moving parts, a system that was losing heat every day, dropping into low-level stasis.

"I wondered if he, too, felt a prisoner of fate."

I know Obama has just gotten into office, but somedays I wonder if he sits there watching republicans disagree with him - sometimes for good reason, sometimes to just disagree - and feels trapped. If he feels he might not be able to do everything he wants to do. If he might not be able to change, and to serve not only black people but the American people, the way he wants to. Granted, he wouldn't be a very good president if he was already frustrated one month in, but still, I don't envy his job.

The following is a quote from a conversation Obama had with a school counselor in an inner-city Chicago school back when he was a community organizer in the '80s. The counselor talks about the curriculum in black schools:

"Just think about what a real education for these children would involve. It would start by giving a child an understanding of himself, his world, his culture, his community. That's the starting point of any educational process. That's what makes a child hungry to learn - the promise of being part of something, of mastering his environment. But for a black child, everything's turned upside down. From day one, what's he learning about? Someone else's history. Someone else's culture. Not only that, this culture he's suppose to learn is the same culture that's systematically rejected him, denied his humanity."

When I read a passage like this, it makes me a little embarassed about black history month. Why just a month, when white kids learn about their culture all year round (and don't necessarily appreciate it)? What he says makes perfect sense. Of course kids whose ancestors come from a homeland other than Europe would want to learn about it. Of course they're not going to be interested in learning each day about someone else's history. I understand that many Europeans helped found America, and as an American that's important to learn about, but the reasons they came here are not the same reasons black people came here (obviously), or the same reasons any other non-white race came to America. And that too is valuable information. I also understand that there's not enough time in the school year to teach everything. But, I don't think it would hurt to try and find a better balance.

During his time in Chicago is also when Obama met Jeremiah Wright. As someone who wasn't really familiar with Wright when the whole mess went down during Obama's campaign, I found this interesting. Putting religion and church-organization aside, I did find it interesting that Wright's church offered so much more to the community than just a place of worship. It offered Yoga classes, African history classes, volunteer opportunities, etc. It had a membership comprising all economic classes. When Obama first went to a service, he realized that it was a place where people could come and feel like they belong. So, if they can't get it in the schools, maybe they can get it at church. (Note: The first sermon Obama heard from Wright was titled "The Audacity of Hope," which is the title of Obama's other book.)

Obama has now left Chicago, having been accepted to Harvard law. He took a trip to Kenya before he started. I've just started this part of the book. While there were just a few sections of the Chicago portion that moved a little slowly, I'm still really enjoying this book.

Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance

I started reading Barack Obama's memoir this week. It wasn't a book I set out to read, but I'd read some good reviews (Bending Bookshelf) and it became an impulse Target purchase on Monday. (This is why I shouldn't walk past the book/movie section, or the home section, or the clothing section, of Target. Just get the toothpaste and get out.)

I like Obama and I'm glad he's in the position he's in currently. But, I'm not someone who thinks he's God's gift, a rock star or our country's saving grace. I think he's a start, though. I've always liked the way he speaks, and how he speaks - like he's sitting across the table from you. And I appreciate his views on race, youth, the middle class, etc. But, when someone gets to level that he's at, you can never quite know if his words are his real words. Is this really what he thinks? Or, is this just rhetoric from the Obama "machine"? I think it's fair to say that politicians, no matter what side they're on, are hard to believe full stop.

With that being said, I am loving Dreams From My Father, for the following reasons:

1. Obama wrote this some 15 years ago, in his early 30s. What does this mean to me? It means he actually wrote it. At that point he didn't have speech writers, he didn't have a staff. He took a year off to write this on his own. And it's good writing. Excellent writing. I'm very impressed. It's engaging, it's funny, it's logical, it feels true, and his voice rings from it. The same voice I've been hearing nearly every day for the past two years. It proves to me that our president is smart and eloquent all on his own.

2. This is a book that discusses race to a great extent (obviously). Can you imagine being a black boy being raised by white grandparents and a white mother? Can you imagine being a white mother trying to raise a black son? Where do you find the influences he needs in his life? Where does little Barry look for guidance when he has all these questions about who he is? His grandparents were lovely people, who believed from day one that you should just treat people, all people, decently. (Go figure.) But in the end, it was his struggle to deal with, and boy, does he mentally struggle. It's quite the peek inside his head, and you better understand how he got where he is today.

3. It's honest. 15 years ago, I don't know if Obama had aspirations for the presidency, but I think if he really did, he wouldn't have written down some of the things he writes here. He's truthful about some of the harsh things he was thinking and feeling. He's truthful about the experiences he had. And the fact that he hasn't denied these things now, is pretty cool, too. (Though it's hard to deny things you wrote in your own memoir, we all know people try and do it anyway...)

Where I'm at in the book, Obama has only just graduated from college. But I'm pleased that through good writing and an honest voice, I can see the same passion for change in the 20-something Obama that I see in our president. I also think that if this book was written by any other person, and I read a good review in my EW or something, that I would still want to read it. He's an interesting man with interesting experiences to share.

Pretty Is What Changes: Impossible Choices, the Breast Cancer Gene, and How I Defied My Destiny

I just finished one of the most amazing memoirs I've read. I read it in three days. While the writing is simple, the book is powerful. Jessica Queller, a Hollywood TV writer (Gilmore Girls, Gossip Girl), lost her mother to ovarian cancer. Her mother was pretty young, too, around 60. The first few chapters of the book talk about her mother's illness (she had breast cancer several years earlier, too) and how Jessica and her sister nursed her, put their lives on hold during her worst times, and how they eventually lost her.

After she lost her mother, Jessica got some genetic testing done to see if she carried the breast cancer gene. Turns out she did. With this gene, she had an 87 percent chance of getting breast cancer in her lifetime and a 44 percent chance of getting ovarian cancer. This mutated gene is in very few women, but it is passed down from parents to their children.

Knowing she's at high risk for cancer, and that it can happen at any age, Jessica, who was in her early 30s when she tested positive, needs to figure out what she's going to do with the information. Does she just wait and see? Does she do a preemptive strike and have her at-risk organs removed?

Jessica struggles with the information for a few years and we get to go along for the ride. She does massive research, talks to numerous doctors and meets many women who found themselves in her same position. The question of removing one's female organs is not just one of health, but of sexuality, self-esteem and the desire to have a family.

This book made me laugh and cry at several points. Her mother was afraid to die. She held on for probably a lot longer than she should've been able to. Jessica has a whole bunch of fun-loving (and very supportive) friends, including some very famous ones. It was fun to read about all of them. She went on some nightmare dates, but kept her humor through them all. Her mother and grandmother were also very unique, but lovable, characters in the book.

I don't want to tell you her ultimate decision. The book flap doesn't give it away, so I won't either. But the book is wonderful. She discusses how far we've come with genetic testing (couples can create embryos and test them for genetic mutations before deciding to keep them - this is becoming common; is this right, and who's to say?), and brings up so many ethical/moral questions.

What if it were you? Would you want to know if you had the cancer gene? Would you do what it took to prevent it, however extreme? As I'm not in the situation, I can't answer for sure. But more often than not when I weigh it in my mind: Yes & yes.

If you've ever been touched by cancer, whether you, a friend or a family member - and perhaps if because of your parent(s) you've sat and wondered if that makes you that much more susceptible and almost destined for cancer in your future - I think this book is honest, thoughtful and well worth your time. It may be hard to read at some points, but I think it's important. Pretty may change, but the beauty inside never fades.

In His Sights

Over the weekend I read In His Sights, a memoir by "Kate Brennan" about her life with a stalker. Here's the synopsis:

What if the man you'd loved for years vows, when you leave him, to destroy you? What if he transforms into a ruthless tormentor, stealing your freedom, undermining your sanity, and threatening your safety?

This is not a fictional scenario. It is Kate Brennan's life.

Kate is a well-respected writer and scholar, a highly independent woman with simple tastes and a complicated romantic past that leave her perfectly content with singlehood. So when she meets Paul—a wealthy, charismatic businessman with a great deal of free time—she's wary of getting involved. Eventually, though, his polished charm and relentless wooing win her over. Things move quickly, and it is only after the two have moved in together that Kate discovers the serial infidelity, the unbalanced psyche, and the sordid secrets lurking under the Mr. Right facade.

Kate lets Paul into her life with trepidation, and when she ends the relationship, she finds she can't get him out of it. With limitless resources, he dedicates himself to stalking her: he tracks her movements, arranges for people to break into her home, interferes with her work, and even relocates to her new neighborhood. His harassment lasts for more than a decade and, as Paul is still at large, it continues to turn Kate's life upside down today.

This visceral memoir not only lays bare the mind of a stalker, but also shows how a smart, successful woman can fall prey to a warped and powerful man who has the money and connections to keep her under his watchful eye. Both frightening and insightful, In His Sights is a gripping tale of one woman's descent into the dark side of love and how she has fought—and still struggles—to free herself.

This was a pretty good book, very engaging, but also very disturbing. While "Kate" is very careful about the names she uses for friends and family (they're all aliases, so as not to put others in danger) and the places she visits, if you're from Minnesota, you know she lives here and has all her life. She's also a writer, and sometimes a professor, so it makes me wonder if I could possibly know who she is in real life. [Side note: It's not lost on me that she could be throwing us off with a made up profession and location, just like her name, but I don't think that's the case.]

I can't imagine what she goes through every day, living with having a stalker. It's been nearly 15 years, and he's still stalking her. He gets her mail rerouted to him, he cuts her phones lines, cuts her power, has people follow her nearly every day, calls her family and friends, and moves into her neighborhood with his new wife. Sick.

Through the book I questioned why she was with him in the first place. He didn't seem like that good of a guy, but I believe that he probably could have charmed her into believing he was. He also ends up having lots of problems, is verbally abusive and cheats. Why does she continue to stay? It's that tendency women have when they see an injured man to try to make him better. To accept the apologies that come the next day. It's definitely in women's nature to be caretakers, even if they're not treated the best in the long run. You see it all the time all around you.

Once she finally does leave him, she waits for two years of the stalking before going to the police. Again, what? But when she describes how she felt that they wouldn't be able to help her and that they would think she was exaggerating, I can see her reluctance. Fortuanately when she does finally go to the police, they're gems. However, stalking is one of those crimes that's hard to prove and a majority of the time the police can't do one thing about it. The only reassurance they can give her (besides advice on how to stay safe and protect herself and help her with fake identities) is that if anything should happen to her, "he's the only suspect." Woo - what a relief (she writes sarcastically).

If you're looking for a quick read, that's engaging and true, In His Sights is definitely worth a read. Just be prepared to hurt for Kate.

Infidel

On recommendation of my girl Willikat, I'm reading Infidel. I'm not going to try to explain the memoir in my own words, so here's the publisher's synopsis:

In this profoundly affecting memoir from the internationally renowned author of The Caged Virgin, Ayaan Hirsi Ali tells her astonishing life story, from her traditional Muslim childhood in Somalia, Saudi Arabia, and Kenya, to her intellectual awakening and activism in the Netherlands, and her current life under armed guard in the West.

One of today's most admired and controversial political figures, Ayaan Hirsi Ali burst into international headlines following an Islamist's murder of her colleague, Theo van Gogh, with whom she made the movie Submission.

Infidel is the eagerly awaited story of the coming of age of this elegant, distinguished -- and sometimes reviled -- political superstar and champion of free speech. With a gimlet eye and measured, often ironic, voice, Hirsi Ali recounts the evolution of her beliefs, her ironclad will, and her extraordinary resolve to fight injustice done in the name of religion. Raised in a strict Muslim family and extended clan, Hirsi Ali survived civil war, female mutilation, brutal beatings, adolescence as a devout believer during the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood, and life in four troubled, unstable countries largely ruled by despots. In her early twenties, she escaped from a forced marriage and sought asylum in the Netherlands, where she earned a college degree in political science, tried to help her tragically depressed sister adjust to the West, and fought for the rights of Muslim immigrant women and the reform of Islam as a member of Parliament. Even though she is under constant threat -- demonized by reactionary Islamists and politicians, disowned by her father, and expelled from her family and clan -- she refuses to be silenced.

Ultimately a celebration of triumph over adversity, Hirsi Ali's story tells how a bright little girl evolved out of dutiful obedience to become an outspoken, pioneering freedom fighter. As Western governments struggle to balance democratic ideals with religious pressures, no story could be timelier or more significant.

I'm only about 100 pages in, but the book is riveting. Hirsi Ali starts telling the story before she was born, filling the reader in on the history of her family and other clans in Somalia. Then she describes her life in Somalia with her brother, sister, mother and grandmother - for much of her childrhood, her father was in jail for being a part of the resistance against the government. Over the years they move to Saudia Arabia, Ethiopia and Kenya. Hirsi Ali and her siblings are beaten weekly by their grandmother and mother (more so the girls than her brother), and all experience genital mutilation between ages 4 and 6 years old. While school is a source of stress for Hirsi Ali (because they moved so much, they were always the new kids, and usually of a different religion or culture, so they were bullied), she also learned many different languages and the practices of many different families.

With any memoir, I think we've all learned, you have to take what you read with a grain of salt. Several reviews I've read call the book "eye opening," but others feel her abusive childhood colored her real understanding of Islam. But if anything, I feel she renounced her religion for a reason and it's better she share her story with the world, than remain silent. Though the danger it puts her in is unimaginable.

The Latehomecomer, Finale

I finished The Latehomecomer. I really enjoyed this book. Sometimes it's easy to think that someone as young as Lang Yang - 28 - doesn't have enough to say for a memoir. But, I think she fills the pages well. I don't think we always understand what a struggle immigration is for groups of people like the Hmong (or Somali, etc.). All they're looking for is a better life than the one they came from, but imagine moving to a country with a different language and completely different customs and trying to fit in. I don't know if I could do it. Which makes books like this one all the more powerful for me. Her family is very strong and she and her siblings went on to do great things (Yang and her sister co-founder Words Wanted, an agency dedicated to helping immigrants with writing, translating and business services.)

Here is one of my favorite passages from the book. When she sees her mother crying because her grandmother in Laos passed away (the last time Lang's Yang's mother saw her was during the war), Lang Yang describes her feelings:

I realized then that my mother had left her mother, the woman who had loved her best in the entire world, to walk with my father toward this life with us. I felt worried that perhaps I'd been selfish. I felt sorry for the decisions a Hmong woman faced, the decisions that this Hmong woman - who I had never seen as such, simply because she was my mother - had made. Why does love in a war always mean choosing? Her mother or my father? The country that gave birth to her or the one that would give birth to me? The little girl she had been or the woman she would become? For the first time, I knew the sadness of choice in my mother's life. I had a glimpse of the world she was working hard to protect me from, to keep me young in, this education and pursuit of a life she never had a chance at. I have the freedom to stand strong in the wake of love and to perhaps choose my own mother - instead of a man.

The Latehomecomer, Part II

I'm really enjoying the book so far. Lang Yang starts by telling the history of her parents, who meet in the Laotian jungle as their separate families hid for their lives from enemy soldiers. They marry amongst the bombs and the fighting, and even still certain traditions remained. A dowry is a must, even if they barely had enough food to last the day.

The family (a daughter, Dawb, is born on the jungle floor) eventually makes it across to Thailand where they spend several years in different refugee camps. Lang Yang is born here and her story begins. The following stories come from her memory (and probably some things her mother, father and grandmother told her about), and it's amazing how much she remembers, particularly smells and sounds. She's actually pretty happy in the camp (that's all she knows), but she can tell her parents yearn for a better life.

Soon the Thai government doesn't want the Hmong anymore and slowly over several years the U.S. government offers them homes here. We're the cause for why they're refugees of war anyway. (We convinced them to fight the "Secret War" against the Vietnamese and now they've been run out of their country for helping us.) Lang Yang and her family traveled here when she's six years old.

Her stories of the airplane ride and her first month in America, St. Paul to be specific, are extremely interesting. Americans didn't know what to think about these people entering our country, and Lang Yang and her family could tell. But her parents always stressed that their lives would be better here. Lang Yang spends several different moments throughout the book discussing whether this is really true. With all the struggling to learn the language, the customs, living on welfare, etc., is life really better?

As Lang Yang and her siblings grow up, it's very interesting to read about the pressure put on them by their parents (as with all the Hmong families she knew). Hmong children have to become adults quicker - their parents need them to translate. If they're ever ungrateful or distant (typical teenagers - at least typical American teenagers), the parents' disappointment is overwhelming. The pressure to do well, to go to college, to become successful is preceded with [me paraphrasing] "We traveled all the way here to give you a better life - don't go wasting it."

I'm glad I'm reading this book, especially since Lang Yang is near my age. She was right on the cusp of the immigration. She was born elsewhere, but spent a majority of her life here. Her younger brothers and sisters were born Americans. They'll never have those memories of Laos or Thailand. They'll never know personally the way it was - they only know the way life is now or the way it could be. I think this is a major reason why she wrote this book. Maybe she felt a sense of duty?

The Latehomecomer

I've just started The Latehomecomer: A Hmong Family Memoir, a story about a Hmong family's journey from Laos to Thailand to America. It's written by Kao Kalia Yang, a new Minnesota author. Several years ago, Yang, who is not even 30 years old, began writing down her grandmother's memories. Those memories turned into this book.

For the few pages I've read, I'm enjoying it. The book got high praise from Anne Fadiman, author of The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, another book about Hmong culture and history that I really enjoyed. For more information on Yang, you can go to her Web site, or you can read this article on MNArtists.org. One quote from this article is just so heartbreaking and also so amazing that it comes out of someone's mouth who is just my age - though obviously much more worldly than me:

“There were lots of defeats,” remembers Yang. “One day, I was reading on the Vietnam War and noticed that the Hmong weren’t anywhere [in the account]. Just like the American history books I read all through college and all through high school – "Hmong" wasn’t mentioned anywhere. And yet, I knew that war was responsible for us being here, and that it killed two-thirds of the people I belong to. People are still dying in the jungles of Laos, remnants of this fight. In the process of writing this book, I learned that that wars don’t end." She pauses then says, "There were so many lessons. What happened to old men and women during and after the war? I looked for the answer to this question everywhere, but no one answered it satisfactorily. So, I faced the problem: how could I begin to tackle this question, especially as it concerned my grandmother, who was already old by the time this war had come?"

I also enjoyed this paragraph on her experience in grad school. As a writer, it hit home, because I've always questioned my experiences and wondered if they're worth applying to my writing (maybe it's an American thing?):

Yang adds that her singular purpose and passion for these stories gave her an advantage over some of the very talented writers she studied with in the MFA program at Columbia University. “They were writing about drugs, or about other things that I knew were part of the contemporary American landscape. But I never got the feeling that they were really quite convinced that that was their story to tell yet," she reflects. "But in my heart, I was already burning with a story."

I'll keep you posted as I read more.

Eat, Pray, Love

[Note: Today I'm publishing a special guest post from my GoodReads friend and blog author I frequent, Jonniker. Her book reviews on GoodReads usually crack me up, so I wanted to share one (and probably more in the future) with you today. Here's her take on Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert. After you read the review, check her blog. She's hilarious and insightful -- hilariously insightful, if you will.]

Eat, Pray, Vomit

Oh, Elizabeth Gilbert, how you frustrate me. Forgive me for saying so, as this book came so highly recommended by so many people I truly love, but I haven't wanted to punch someone as much as I want to punch Elizabeth Gilbert in a really, truly long time. "One woman's journey," my ass. The premise, if by now you aren't familiar with it -- and if you aren't, might I add that I'm envious of your oblivion, and may I urge you to stop reading this now to protect your innocence? -- is Liz Gilbert's three-country tour through Italy, India and Indonesia to find herself after what she deems as a "painful" divorce. The divorce, by the way, was her choice, and yet she spends an inordinate amount of time making us feel sorry for her, as though she was VICTIMIZED by this man who loved her and wanted to stay married to her, OH BOO HOO. They're called consequences, sister. Learn to live with them.

Sorry, where was I? Oh yes. Ultimately, the issue that I had with this book was that I didn't like her -- I didn't like her at ALL -- and without having a sense of compassion for who she is, and what she learns on this journey, I think enjoying the book is a near impossibility. And yet ... by the end I was less vitriolic in my hate for her than I was in the beginning, but I think that can be chalked up to the fact that by Indonesia, she's introduced several characters for us to become emotionally invested in -- real people who are not as self-pitying and self-centered as she is.

But oh, Italy and India. I hated you so. And frankly, I hated her. Her attitude, her smugness, immature behavior all amounted to a person who really needs to be kicked in the ass -- hard -- by a good dose of reality. Put it this way: how much pity would you have for one of your friends who left her husband in a fit of immaturity and got a YEAR -- fully paid -- to do nothing but eat her way through Italy (and really, that's all she does there), do yoga in an Indian ashram and find a way to balance the two (VOMIT) in Indonesia?

I imagine not very much, no? Wouldn't you take her aside and say listen, bitch, quit your complaining, because some of us do this shit EVERY DAY and oh by the way, we also have to WORK and tend to our RESPONSIBILITIES. So GROW UP?

No? Just me then?

I was, and remain, truly mystified by the legion of reviewers who called her self-deprecating and likable, for frankly, any self-deprecation was done in a way that we were meant to find charming and lovable, because wasn't she so HUMBLE and SELF-AWARE? How darling! Oh, Liz!

Ha ha NO. I didn't find her likable at all, and I'll admit, I really wanted to. And I'll admit, I was a bit soured by the concept of running off and "finding yourself" at 34, which seemed ... well, it seemed self-indulgent, and her selfish reaction to everything she saw kind of cemented that idea for me.

In addition, while I understand that non-fiction is largely written and commissioned on spec, I do feel very strongly that the pre-determined publishing agreement took a great deal away from the authenticity of the project. While I admire her business acumen in securing one prior to her travels, on the other hand, how much more would you have admired her if she did it on her own, out of an actual desire to do so, rather than a mercenary, selfish motivation? Doesn't it seem a bit contrived to find yourself because you got a publishing agreement to do so? I'm CERTAIN I could find myself -- even though I have not yet gotten lost -- if someone gave me a year to travel around the world. In fact, I DARE a publisher to come find me and make me an offer.

To put it mildly, I won't be seeing the film. The concept of Liz Gilbert played by Julia Roberts is ... well, let's say it's a bit too much for my gag reflex to bear.

Do you agree or disagree? Let us know.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames

I love David Sedaris. I'm trying to remember when I was first introduced to his writing, and I think it was in college by my best friend and also a fellow co-worker. After I read Me Talk Pretty One Day, I was hooked. It still remains my favorite collection of his. I even asked for a New Yorker subscription for my birthday - half the reason was to check each week for a new Sedaris story. (While The New Yorker is a great pub, I never had the time to read the whole thing each week on top of working, eating, sleeping and all the other magazines and books I read - thing's dense!)

Sedaris got his "big break" when he recorded his reading of SantaLand Diaries for Ira Glass' Chicago radio morning show several years back (Sedaris is still a frequent contributor to This American Life). This is one of the funniest stories I've ever heard/read. Sedaris does a lot of what I call immersion writing - throwing himself into possibly humorous situations and seeing what comes of it. For SantaLand Diaries, he worked as an elf at Macy's. This is probably his most famous work, yet in his mind, it's one of his least favorites. However, I listened to a podcast with him recently and he seems to dislike many of his stories once they've been published - he's ready to move on. (I also love his stories about being a house painter, a mover and a cleaner - though I can't remember what books those fall in. Me Talk Pretty One Day is about living in Paris, and not speaking the language. Sedaris and his partner Hugh live abroad a majority of the time.)

Sedaris is self-deprecating, humble being. His life situations are very entertaining to read about, yet he personally doesn't understand what the fuss is all about. He keeps a diary, something he writes in every day and indexes every season so he can use it as a reference later. He goes on 30-city lecture tours twice a year, trying out new material. He'll read stories and gauge the audience reaction - rewriting later that night if need be, or trashing something that bombed. He's not a comedian, but his process seems similar.

His latest book, When You Are Engulfed in Flames, is what I'm reading now. I just started, so thoughts to come later. However, Sedaris stops in the Twin Cities this weekend. I can't make these engagements, but maybe when he returns in the fall. His lectures are always packed, so arriving early is important.

Today, Friday June 13: University of Minnesota bookstore, 7 p.m.
Saturday June 14: Borders in Roseville, 1 p.m.
October 19: State Theater, 7 p.m.

Who else loves Sedaris? Do you have a favorite essay of his?

The Year of Living Biblically, Finale

I finished A.J. Jacobs' The Year of Living Biblically. I recommend it. It made me laugh a lot, but it also made me think. Jacobs heritage is Jewish, so you learn more about that denomination than any other, but he also dives into other forms of religion a bit, too. He travels to Israel, he travels to the Creationist Museum, he travels South - uncovering for himself many different ways to worship. Jacobs is very honest about his struggle as a secular Jew to dive into a project like this. I felt the ending was just as it should be, too.

Whether or not you believe in a higher power, the book is definitely interesting. And I think it's more interesting because Jacobs was an agnostic going in. No preaching, few judgments. Because of the wide divide that there is between people who strongly believe in something and those who don't, or the divide between those who believe in one thing and those who believe in another - well, I feel pretty good about the country we live in. We're allowed to practice whatever religion we want (or don't want). While we could disagree with our neighbor over religion, and even argue loudly with him about it, we don't have the right to persecute him - and him us. For the most part, we honor each other. And that's a great thing. Obviously, as current events relay, not everyone is so fortunate. I forget that sometimes.

The Year of Living Biblically: Lying

Several times through out the book, Jacobs talks about the ever-important (yet pretty impossible) commandment, Thou Shall Not Lie. Besides the part about the tantrum his son throws when Jacobs doesn't lie about the English muffin (see two posts ago), I have another favorite moment: When he and his wife run into her old college friend and his response to setting up a play date for their kids is: "You guys seem nice, but I don't really want new friends right now." You see, he's not trying to be mean - just honest. They hardly have time to see the friends they already have - why throw more into the mix?

This made me think of a feature Jacobs wrote in Esquire last summer, "I Think You're Fat," an article about a movement called Radical Honesty. Jacobs tries to immerse himself in a completely truthful life, discovering how hard it really is and how many people he can easily piss off (we don't all handle the truth very well). It's hilarious and worth a read. It also made me wonder if he came across this Radical Honesty movement while living biblically and thou-shall-not-lying? I'm sure the two go hand-in-hand somehow.

Side note: Another passage in the book that really made me think was about prayer. Jacobs tried to pray several times each day. Once he got the hang of it, it made him feel good. One of the advisers on his call list suggested that he should really be praying for God, not for himself. It should take time out of your day - you should sacrifice to pray. However, as Jacobs points out, if he sacrifices and becomes more selfless, then he'll actually become a better person, and good for him. It's silly, but it reminds me of an episode of Friends when Joey and Phoebe talk about how there aren't any selfless good deeds - they all make you feel good about yourself. Maybe that's OK, though? I say, even if people do good things for others because it makes them feel good, it's still better than no one helping anyone else at all.

The Year of Living Biblically: Gossiping

In a couple chapters of his book, Jacobs works on gossiping. According to the book, the Bible has at least 20 passages condemning gossiping. And, I don't think that means eliminating talking badly about other people, but talking about people behind their backs at all, really. But, what happens when your significant other comes home after a hard day and vents to you about his or her coworker (as did Jacobs' wife)? Instead of offering moral support with a "you're right, what a freakin' jerk," you sit there and listen silently and then say, "ah, that's too bad." As with the author's wife, that may not go over too well.

In the same vein, Jacobs writes that really, it's better to not talk negatively at all. Jacobs admits he fails on a daily (hourly) basis. I mean, think about it: how many conversations do you come across every day that are negative in some respect? How many are you a part of yourself? Me? A LOT. People bitch and complain - that's what we do. But, after reading about how hard he's trying not to speak that way, maybe the world would be a brighter place if we all cut back on it a little.

When he comes back to the topic of gossip several chapters later (Do not go around as a gossiper among your people... Leviticus 19:16), Jacobs mentions that the more he keeps his negative thoughts to himself, the fewer negative thoughts he thinks up in the first place. "I refuse to let that toxic cloud gather in my brain. It's a purifying feeling..."

Couldn't hurt, right?

The Year of Living Biblically : One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible

I'm about 75 pages into The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs. After he decided this was what he wanted his next book to be about, Jacobs spent four weeks reading the Bible cover to cover, writing down all the "rules" he came across. At the end: 72 pages and more than 700 rules. So, for the next year, he planned to live by the Bible. At first he takes it for its literal meaning, but as with anything, there are plenty of meanings for different passages. He forms an advisory board of pastors, rabbis (Jacobs was born Jewish, though non-practicing), and other people who can help him with this translation. Instead of trying to live by all 700 rules each day (which he found very tiring the first few days - like he couldn't even leave the house), Jacobs decided to focus on certain ones each day. The book follows his day-to-day journey. A few things that made me laugh:

1. Thou Shall not Lie: Easier said than done when your child wants a bagel but all you have is an English muffin. Instead of "lying" and saying the muffin IS a bagel, you tell the truth. Thirty-minute tantrum follows.

2. Within certain sects of the Jewish faith, a man and woman aren't allowed to touch for 12 days after she starts menstruating. Nor is a man allowed to sit where she sits. Or lie on the same sheets as she does. Before Jacobs comes home from work one day, his wife (who feels like a leper because of this) sits on every surface in their home.

3. Thou Shall not Covet: He starts with just the wanting of "things" (planning to tackle the coveting of other pretty women for later). Different followers believe different things here, as Jacobs found out by interviewing his advisory board. If your coveting means you'd cause harm to your neighbor, then you should refrain; but just liking that Porsche down at the dealership - not a big deal. But, some believe any and all wanting is forbidden. The author talks about how he covets for his two-year-old son every day. My favorite example: A girl his son's age can say words like 'helicopter,' while his son still just gurgles and grunts. Jacobs covets that girl's vocabulary for his son.

It's a very entertaining read. Plus, I'm learning a lot about other religions (and my own). Just this morning I read about his encounter with a Jehovah's Witness. (The author actually invited the man into his home and talked so much, the man kind of had to beg to leave...)

The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World

The next book on my list is The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible, by A.J. Jacobs. If you read Esquire (or EW before that), you know (editor-at-large) Jacobs' work. He's pretty hilarious. Before I start blogging about The Year of Living Biblically though, I thought I should post about his previous book: The Know-It-All.

I enjoyed this book so much. His wit, his humor, his candor made me laugh out loud so many times. Jacobs took a year to read the Encyclopedia Britannica from beginning to end. The book is broken up by entries in the Encyclopedia, and Jacobs explains how many entries affected him - or whether they did at all.

If the book wasn't packed away for a big move we have coming up, I'd provide an example or two. Maybe in a month or so. For now, here's the review from Publisher's Weekly:

Imagine, the original Berserkers were "savage Norse soldiers" of the Middle Ages who went into battle stark naked! Or consider the Etruscan habit of writing in "boustrophedon style." Intrigued? Well, either hunker down with your own Encyclopædia Britannica, or buy Esquire editor Jacobs's memoir of the year he spent reading all 32 volumes of the 2002 edition—that's 33,000 pages with some 44 million words. Jacobs set out on this delightfully eccentric endeavor attempting to become the "smartest person in the world," although he agrees smart doesn't mean wise. Apart from the sheer pleasure of scaling a major intellectual mountain, Jacobs figured reading the encyclopedia from beginning to end would fill some gaps in his formal education and greatly increase his "quirkiness factor." Reading alphabetically through whole topics he never knew existed meant he'd accumulate huge quantities of trivia to insert into conversations with unsuspecting victims. As his wife shunned him and cocktail party guests edged away, Jacobs started testing his knowledge in a hilarious series of humiliating adventures: hobnobbing at Mensa meetings, shuffling off to chess houses, trying out for the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, visiting his old prep school, even competing on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. Indeed, one of the book's strongest parts is its laugh-out-loud humor. Jacobs's ability to juxtapose his quirky, sardonic wit with oddball trivia make this one of the season's most unusual books.

More on Jacobs' attempt to live by the Bible (will he kill magicians or sacrifice oxen?) in a future post.

Fiction vs. Memoir

Margaret B Jones (real name: Margaret Seltzer) is the latest memoir writer to come clean about some fabrications in her book, Love and Consequences. Turns out Seltzer took inspiration from the lives of people she knew and pretended those moments were her own. Several authors have come under fire in regards to this issue (you had to be living under a rock not to hear about Oprah's throning and dethroning of James Frey).

Memoir is a difficult genre. Is it memoir if you are truly writing about yourself, yet you make up some of the dialogue you just can't remember from age 5? Or, maybe that in turn makes your story fiction?

Two of my favorite books, Shannon Olson's Welcome to My Planet and Children of God Go Bowling, are strongly based on her life. Yet, because a few fictional elements are included, the books are considered fiction. I heard Olson speak once after her first book came out. Being mostly about her struggle to find love, her book could also be thought of as a little hopeless - thought it's hilarious at the same time. For this reason, her editor suggested Olson give readers hope by putting some sort of happy love moment near the end. So she did - but it didn't really happen to her. And her book is fiction. For good reason?

What are your thoughts? Can memoir take any liberties?
Do you have a favorite memoir? Do you question any of its content?

The Florist's Daughter

Sorry for the lack of posting. Too much work and winter sickness has kept me from reading anything this past week. But I started The Florist's Daughter, by St. Paul author Patricia Hampl, this morning. I've never read Hampl's work before (which is probably a disgrace for a writer from the Twin Cities) so I'm excited to get going on this one. Here's the synopsis from B&N online:

From Patricia Hampl, the author of Blue Arabesque, comes this thoughtful and affecting memoir, a meditation on the death of her parents. As Patricia holds on to her dying mother's hand with one hand, she begins to write her obituary with the other. "She would have expected nothing less," Patricia explains. "For the dutiful writer-daughter scribbling in the half-light, holding the dying hand while hitting the high points of her subject’s allegedly ordinary life that is finally going to see print."

From here, Patricia reflects on growing up middle class as the daughter of a florist and his wife in St. Paul, Minnesota. Whereas her father, a true artist, was obsessive about his flower arrangements, he was also inattentive to the outside world. She recounts the Midwestern values he clung to, even as he was losing his business to cheats. She also begins to understand how her mother, the feisty and distrustful daughter of Czech immigrants with an uncanny ability to tell a good story, almost lost her mind fighting their enemy.

In The Florist's Daughter, Hampl once again exhibits her ability to capture the complexity and depth of her subjects, suggesting that what is most personal, can also be most elusive.