As I read, I was struck that the main obstacle that Douglass had to overcome was not the freezing weather, the starvation, the humiliations, and the beatings, but rather a broken will. Of course, all of the former abuses directly contributed to the later, but it is his will that allowed him to be himself amidst the horrors of slavery.

Douglass was a strong-willed and intelligent boy as he grew in Baltimore. For example, he tricked the white boys his age to teach him how to read and he secretly worked on learning more. But as a teenager, he found himself reassigned to an overseer in the country who had a reputation for “breaking in” rebellious slaves. Eventually, Douglass’s spirit was broken too. That was the most heart breaking to me, for the slave masters determined to turn him into something less than human.

Douglass’s story about his broken spirit reminded me of the story of Sethe and the others in Beloved, one of my favorite novels. “You your own self,” Sethe is told. And that is what I kept thinking as Douglass told his story. He was his own self, and he was strong. He had to rediscover his will to be an individual after that master “broke” him, just as Sethe ultimately had to discover herself in Beloved. As is evidence by the existence of this narrative, Douglass eventually escaped slavery and was able to tell his story, further evidence that he was able to rediscover his will to be an individual.

Douglass’s story was written just ten years after his ultimate escape from slavery, when he was 27 or 28, and that also fascinates me. It was the 1840s, and slavery was a long way from being ended. As an escaped slave, evidence of his whereabouts could bring slave catchers, and many Northern states were required to return the slaves. Yet, he does not fear to name many names. It is clear that he has a confidence in himself. He later was able to earn enough money, lecturing in Europe, to legally buy his freedom. That is a story of success and self-confidence.

As I read this account of a slave in a border state, a slave with a difficult and tragic life and yet one that was not “that bad,” I was repeatedly reminded of a picture book I read a few weeks ago. I wrote up a blurb about it and had intended to post it with other picture books about the subject in a few more weeks. My original impression of The Listeners by Gloria Whelan, illustrated by Mike Benny, was as follows:

In a beautifully illustrated large book, we learn the story of three little slave children, whose job it is to listen near the plantation house every night and report back to their parents. It’s a slave story, but it has an element of hope to it. The illustrations are gorgeous. I’ve seen some comments suggesting that it is too light-hearted a look at slavery: truly this is not like the slavery I’ve read about before, and I can accept those comments. But it still is a touching and beautiful picture book, and I can see it as a good introduction to the subject for young children.

After reading Douglass’s book, I am now confused about what I think about The Listeners. I think it gives an incorrect view of slavery. I no longer have it to reread (I had to return it to the library), but I do remember a scene where the children are dancing with their parents. They delight in those evenings.

On the contrary, Frederick Douglass said:

I have often been utterly astonished, since I came to the north, to find persons who could speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears. At least, such is my experience. I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom to express my happiness. Crying for joy, and singing for joy, were alike uncommon to me while in the jaws of slavery. … (page 35, emphasis added)

Gloria Whelan, author of The Listeners, is a woman from Detroit, who has written a number of picture books set in rural Michigan, as well as other stories and picture books set in other locales, such as Russia and Japan (see Wikipedia; her author site). I guess I wonder what books she’s read about real life in slavery. Has she read any escaped slave journals and accounts, like this one? Maybe she has; I don’t know. But now I doubt the veracity and the appropriateness of a picture book with slave children laughing and dancing. It gives the wrong impression.

In Douglass’s account, as a child, he received one shirt a year and when it wore out, he went naked. He was always hungry. All the children ate out of a trough, and the quickest ended up eating the most. At night, he had a burlap sack as a blanket. In the rural Maryland winters, his feet would frost over in the night. He was forced to watch women being whipped, and saw a man shot for being slow to respond to the master’s orders.

How does one teach this cruel reality of slavery to children, or do we just gloss over it with pretty picture books until they are older?

Do you think it’s appropriate to emphasize, in a picture book, imagined happy moments that some slave children may have had?

I don’t have any answers. As I said above, I’m conflicted.

• Beloved by Toni Morrison
• Lincoln: A Photobiography by Russell Freedman
• Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
• Listen to the Wind by Greg Mortenson and Susan L. Roth
• The Life of Wilkie Collins (Biographies by Clarke and Peters)
• The Book That Changed My Life, edited by Roxanne J. Coady and Joy Johannesson + Giveaway
• Golden Legacy by Leonard Marcus
• The Life of Our Lord by Charles Dickens
• The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum

“Hateful Things” is an interesting piece when considered as an essay because it doesn’t read like any other essay I read for that class. Like the rest of her The Pillow Book, it is partly a list, partly a personal journal entry, and mostly a personal ramble. Yet, Shonagon writes beautifully. It has an interesting organization to it, and from the beginning until the end, “Hateful Things” progresses from generic to personal in a beautiful way. Much of The Pillow Book is similarly personal, and the vibrant personality of the woman who wrote it makes The Pillow Book a delightful, fascinating, and important book to read.

Sei Shonagon collected her writings (a bundle of papers kept inside her pillow) in the late 900s A.D. in Japan while she was working as a lady in waiting to the empress. She may have had a somewhat lower-class upbringing, but her extensive reading and later employment by the empress made her critical of the lower classes. In short, she’s a bit of a snob. Add to the mix a propensity toward middle-of-the-night liaisons and her feminist leanings and Shonagon’s diary becomes not just historically significant but also delightfully amusing.

Nat at In the Spring it is the Dawn took the name of her blog from the first line of Shonagon’s book and says in her review “I like to think that if Sei Shonagon were alive today, she’d have a blog, and a fun one to read it would be too!” I have to agree. Shonagon is witty and sarcastic, honest and playful. I think she was born 1000 years too early, because she loved finding something, be it funny, annoying, or ironic, in the ordinary events of the day. And despite her claim that she “regret[s] that it ever came to light” (page 264) because people have been hurt by her criticisms, I still believe she would have delighted in an unknown international audience that blogging would have given her.

Because Shonagon lived more than 1000 years ago, her work is also an historical and cultural piece. I know nothing about Japan. In fact, I believe The Pillow Book was the first Japanese book I’ve ever read. I learned about the traditions of Heian Japan, including the necessity of proper poetic response to the poetic notes people sent. Although I like to think of myself as a creative person when it comes to writing, I can’t imagine my social status being dictated by the witty poems I write!  I learned a little bit about the superstitions and religious traditions of the era, which I also was completely unfamiliar with. And I loved learning about life in a palace that wasn’t what I was used to hearing about (my only palace exposure previously has been Western, via fairy tales and Arthurian legends).

Because of my ignorance, it would have been very hard to follow the significance of Shonagon’s diary if not for the extensive notes by Ivan Morris. While Morris’s translation is 266 pages, he also includes 80 pages of notes that explain portions of the text and 20 pages of appendices with illustrations of clothes and layouts, details about the calendars and government, and timelines of Shonagon’s life. I wished the text was annotated instead, so I wouldn’t have had to flip back and forth for the entire book, but I loved all the information. I didn’t concern myself with trying to remember all the different names and customs, but I did enjoy learning about them. I suspect this is a book I must reread.

Ivan Morris’s translation is actually an abridgement of a larger, more detailed text. While I hadn’t realized that when I read, apparently most modern translations of The Pillow Book excise similar sections since they are lists that Shonagon wrote to help her remember things and have little interest to a modern reader. The sections that were included were fascinating, and I did find myself interested, even in the brief lists Shonagon kept, especially when they morphed into a personal ramble:

5. Different Ways of Speaking

14. Hateful Things

16. Things that Make One’s Heart Beat Faster

27. Trees

28. Birds

29. Elegant Things

30. Insects

32. Unsuitable Things

(These are just a few: the entire book is peppered with such lists.)

I also love the stories Shonagon included about palace life. Some of them are specifically about herself and experiences (such as 8.” The Cat Who Lived in the Palace”) but others are more generic. It’s as if she’s pretending it’s not her own story, such as 46. “A Lovers Visit,” in which Shonagon talks about “a lady” and her attendants. One can only assume it is her own story. My favorite section was 116. “When I First Went in Waiting.” By this section of the book, I was familiar with Shonagon’s outspoken personality and relationship with the empress and others at Court. To go back and revisit her first impressions of royalty and palace life was then quite entertaining. It was comforting to know that even Sei Shonagon, who was anything but shy, was nervous during her first days in the palace.

Shonagon also had sections dedicated to complaining about people and customs. She had sections delighting in people and customs. She wrote about everything that struck her, and as the introduction states, it’s possible Shonagon was writing some sections as idea-outlines for her possible future novels. Unfortunately, The Pillow Book is the only remaining text by Sei Shonagon, and her life after she left court in 1000 A.D. is unknown.

I call it a diary but The Pillow Book is so much more. It’s a beginner’s education in Japanese Court life. It’s a outline of future novels. It’s an outlet for frustration. It’s a personal history. In the end, I think it’s a fun read.

Do you read blogs by random people who talk about the everyday aspects of their life and yet you find it interesting simply because of how they write about it? Ironically, I don’t but I still enjoyed this book!

[Japanese Literature Challenge 3 because it's classic Japanese literature]

[Really Old Classics Challenge because it was written before 1600 AD]

[Women Unbound Challenge because it's about a women's life]

Related posts:

• The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa
• Reading Journal (6 January): Starting Off the New Year
• The Old Capital by Yasunari Kawabata
• January in Review: A Good Start to 2010
• Reading Reflections: A Book Kingdom
• Reading Journal (24 February): My First Vlog
• The Book That Changed My Life, edited by Roxanne J. Coady and Joy Johannesson + Giveaway
• Reading Journal (March 3): Swapping Books
• What is Reading? and Audiobook Review of The Book Thief

In terms of reading, I finished off my biography of Jesus on December 26. I was right: December was the ideal month for reading James E. Talmage’s 700+ page tome. Part gospel harmony, part historical explanation, and part doctrinal interpretation, Jesus the Christ follows the pre-mortal, mortal, and post-mortal mission of the Savior by interpreting the scriptures.

Talmage wrote his book in the first two decades of the twentieth century, in an era before computers could have helped him put things in order. The seamless nature of his book is therefore all the more impressive to me. Besides that, I really did enjoy the outmoded writing style. While Talmage’s scholarly tone makes it difficult to read quickly at first, I found it beautiful (and not as difficult) once I got used to it. It is clear Talmage is a Bible scholar, and he clarifies the context of the parables, the Jewish dissension, and other aspects of New Testament life with which I was unfamiliar: Talmage puts the New Testament events in context.

Talmage is also a scholar of Mormon doctrine, as his research and commentary gave me insights into the continuing nature of the mission of Jesus Christ. While he only briefly referred to the pre-mortal and post-mortal ministry of the Savior, he did regularly complement his New Testament commentary with references to Latter-day scripture.

As a whole, the book certainly focuses on the Latter-day Saint doctrines of the Savior, and therefore, I am not certain non-Mormon readers would find it so engaging or satisfying. Even Mormon readers need to keep in mind that this volume in one man’s interpretation of the key events and scriptures: I didn’t necessarily agree with all his doctrinal interpretations, and it’s interesting to consider the past 100 years of further gospel insight as I read. Talmage’s volume, although rather comprehensive, is still flawed and incomplete. Yet, reading it had encouraged me to better delve into the scriptures on my own and seek guidance and direction by reading the words of the living prophets.

This blog is not primarily a religious blog: it’s a reading blog. I’ll therefore keep this post brief by saying that I’m grateful I finely did submerge myself in this volume. While I was intimidated by its length and it does have some flaws, I found Jesus the Christ ultimately rewarding, especially at this Christmas season.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

We have this gorgeous illustrated edition on our coffee table, and I love browsing through my favorite pictures of Christ.

• Christ and the New Covenant by Jeffrey R. Holland
• The Life of Our Lord by Charles Dickens
• Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard Lyman Bushman
• December in Review
• Nineteenth-Century Mormon Architecture and City Planning by C. Mark Hamilton
• Reading Journal (18 Nov): Planning for a Quiet December
• 2009 in Review (+ Lots of Stats)
• Children’s Christmas: Picture Books of the Season

I’m not normally interested in memoirs. I find I just don’t care about the personal life of (1) most celebrities or (2) random people I’d never heard of before. But because Feynman was a Nobel Prize winner in science, I thought he might have something interesting to add to the scientific discussion. Since I’m always in need of more scientific thought in my life, I picked it up.

Richard Feynman (1918-1988) certainly did have an interesting life, and his memoir captures some of the fascinating aspects of being a scientist: how he learned to repair radios as a teenagers by taking them apart; his interest in science from a young age versus his anti-social tendencies; his years working on the Manhattan project; his severe criticism of Brazil’s educational system and his thoughts on what makes an education “good.”

I particularly liked to learn of Feynman’s personal development as he grew older, learning to embrace the humanities as well as science. As a college student, he resented the requisite humanities classes. As he aged, he learned to play the drums, draw, and even become an expert in Mayan antiquities. This was refreshing to me: it show me that a ground-breaking physicist can also be a well-rounded individual.

On the other hand, Feynman is not a serious man, and his memoir is filled with non-scientific tidbits. Feynman was fascinated with topless bars, for example. His escapades in Brazil during Carnaval, his bar fights, and his irreverence for all things “formal” (such as the Nobel Prize ceremony) also were pretty non-scientific. As those who know my reading style may be able to guess, these less serious bits were not as interesting to me. In fact, I could have skipped all the topless escapades and been happier. Still, as Feynman himself commented at one point “All this human being stuff is kind of fun too.”

In the end, I could have passed on Surely Your Joking, Mr. Feynman. Although it was fun to see how a scientist looks at the world, I would have rather learned something about science with my time. On the other hand, if you want to see how a famous physicist lives and learns, this might be the book for you.

The audiobook I listened to was unabridged and wonderfully narrated by Michael Kramer.

• Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard Lyman Bushman
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• The Elements of Cooking by Michael Ruhlman
• The Discoverers by Daniel Boorstin
• Two Neuroscience Books (Proust was a Neuroscientist by Lehrer and Sacks’ Musicophilia)
• Hunger: An Unnatural History by Sharman Apt Russell
• On Writing by Stephen King
• The Planets by Dava Sobel + A Giveaway
• A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg
• December in Review

Although I like reading classics, I don’t know much. Before August of this year, I’d never heard of Wilkie Collins! I first experienced Wilkie Collins through The Woman in White (loved it!), and I recently read The Moonstone.

For this Circuit, I decided to read about his life. Although reading two biographies does not make me an expert, it’s been fun to read reviews now that I feel I know about the man! I hope this overview of Wilkie’s life interests you too.

The Biographies

I read two biographies of Wilkie Collins. The first attracted me because the title seemed appropriate for a writer of suspense. The Secret Life of Wilkie Collins by William Clarke gave me a fresh look into Wilkie’s personal life and the controversy and complications of his circumstances. It was written by the husband of Wilkie’s great-grandaughter, so he had a personal interest in proving the facts of Wilkie’s mistresses and children. The biography met those needs, it was well researched, and it was well notated.

Yet, Secret Life failed to give me a complete picture of Wilkie Collins as a popular writer, and therefore it left me wanting more. I turned to Catherine Peters’ comprehensive biography, The King of Inventors, to get a well-rounded perspective. Since Peters’ biography was published after Clarke’s, I should have gone straight there.

Peters’ biography was what I expect when I read a biography of a literary man. She looks both at his life and at his works. Peters details the controversies and unknown aspects of his personal and family life.  Then, for his most significant publications, Peters spends a few pages discussing why the books were monumental, which seems appropriate for one dubbed “King of Inventors.” Even though I skipped a few paragraphs when I was unfamiliar with a novel and therefore unable to follow the discussion, I was still able to understand the overall discussions about the breakthroughs Wilkie made in his writing.

As I have returned Secret Life to the library, all references below are to King of Inventors.

The Beginning

image via Wikipedia

From his birth in 1824, William Wilkie Collins looked strange, with a bulge on the upper right of his head, probably the result of a difficult birth. He was always self-conscious of his forehead, and his large beard in his later life may have been an attempt to distract from the unbalanced look of his head (pages 18-19). He also was horribly short-sighted throughout his life and had unusually small hands and feet.

His was named after his father, the artist William Collins, and his godfather, the Scottish painter David Wilkie. Wilkie (called Willie as a child) was not impressed with his father’s religious piety, and Peters’ suggests that Miss Clack in The Moonstone is part of Wilkie’s response to his father (page 306). On the other hand, Wilkie was always close to his mother, and lived with her until 1856 (age 32).

Although he spent only one year (age 13) touring Italy with his family, Wilkie considered it a “crucial” point to his development as a writer. Among other things, he learned about life outside of his own closed family circle. From my perspective, it seems he had a remarkable memory of people and places, able to rework the images in his mind into a story even many years later.

It’s good that Wilkie had memorable experiences in Italy, for he was teased at boarding school upon his return and was actually bullied into telling stories to the other boys; if a story wasn’t interesting, they’d bully him more (page 50). That was a good start for the budding novelist; he wrote his first novel (about Tahiti) as a teenager.

A Literary Man

His father may have wanted Wilkie to become a painter, but instead Wilkie eventually entered Lincoln’s Inn to study law. When his father died in 1847, Wilkie stopped working on his second novel to write his father’s biography, which he’d promised to do. Although Wilkie wanted to write novels, he realized that writing a good biography of a respectable painter may help him get in the door with publishers (page 76). He was right.

When I read The Woman in White and The Moonstone, I found it remarkable that an author could write such a coherent story over the course of more than a year of serialization. He had to know, from the beginning, how it would end. Wilkie Collins did: he wrote outlines and plans before beginning a novel so he would not have problems later. His contemporary writers particularly disliked the idea: “Such work gives me no pleasure,” said Anthony Trollope (page 392).

In his good novels, Wilkie brilliantly captures characters, settings, and plot. There is suspense as it had never been done, and mystery as it had never been written. He wrote about fallen women; he wrote about people with disabilities; he wrote about sexual tension.

Today, we may read his works and not think them extraordinary, but at the time, he was an inventor of a new type of fiction. Peters discusses most of Wilkie’s major works in detail, discussing how Collins is an “inventor.” I look forward to reading them now that I have a better understanding of how monumental they were!

A Ladies’ Man and a Family Man

Wilkie met Charles Dickens at the acting troupe of amateur actors (all artists and writers) in the late 1850s. Although Dickens was 12 years Wilkie’s senior, the two struck up an unusual bond, as Wilkie became Dickens’ favorite companion for “nightly wanderings in strange places” (page 98). Together, they traveled Europe frequently. (The first time they traveled together, Dickens was disgusted by Wilkie’s immaturity and cheap ways). Wilkie eventually worked for many years on Dickens’ staff at the serial magazine All the World Round.

Although Dickens worked hard to keep his subsequent affair with Ellen Ternan (which began in 1857) a secret, Wilkie Collins did not attempt to hide his two mistresses. This difference in dealing with a personal matter may have lead to the rift between the two writers in later life.

Wilkie supposedly had his first love affair in Rome at age 13, and from then on he was unabashed in flirtation. In 1858 (age 34), he began to live openly with the widow Caroline Graves, who had a young daughter (called Carrie). Supposedly, Wilkie met Caroline in a situation that inspired the opening story of The Woman in White, but there is no solid evidence of that (see page 191). Caroline was not of middle-class upbringing, but Wilkie did not like dinner parties and the physical restrictions of the middle class, so that appealed to him (page 195).

In the late 1860s, Caroline left Wilkie and married another man. Her marriage did not take, for she returned to Wilkie soon afterwards, who had, by that time, begun a second liaison with Martha Rudd, a young woman with an even lower upbringing. Yet,

Martha herself was an incarnation of the courageous and independent-minded young working women Wilkie had always found touching and intriguing. (page 294)

Martha and Wilkie went by the alias of Mr. and Mrs. Dawson, and Wilkie was to father three children. Wilkie loved being a father, and the children often traveled with him and Caroline (Martha was, apparently, not respectable enough to travel with him).

Although Wilkie Collins was quite a ladies’ man, it probably won’t surprise his readers to know he liked a woman who could think for herself.

Though he was far from conventionally attractive, Wilkie had the ability to charm and amuse women of all ages. He wooed them with his story-telling, with comic verse and intimate affectionate letters. … Though Wilkie was not in the least interested in female emancipation, he liked women who where intelligent and gifted and spoke their minds. (page 122)

I found it strange to read that he doesn’t have any interest in female emancipation, since it seems that his books have strong women: I would have thought he would like to support women and free them from Victorian class status. He lived with one woman and had three children by another, so this life style seems in conflict with the message his novels share. Peters brings up this issue. She herself asks that question and then answers it:

How could Wilkie continue, though out his association with Martha,  to write polemical roman a these in which ‘fallen women’ were reinvigorated into society through marriage to great-hearted, unconventional radicals, fighting to break down class barriers? Though he thought the legal forms quite irrelevant, he took care to keep ‘readers in general’ contented with a conventional happy ending. (page 297).

Wilkie Collins, in other words, was still rather Victorian in his attitudes. He treated the women in his life well, from his perspective, but from my modern perspective, it seems he used them as he pleased. Caroline was always referred to as his “housekeeper.” Martha was a “kept woman” (she had a very generous living allowance), literally stuck with raising his family. When I understood that Martha was unable to escape the situation if she had wanted to, it seems sad to me. That said, both woman (from this distance) seemed happy with their lives.

An Ill Man

For much of his life, Wilkie struggled with “rheumatic gout,” a type of arthritis. Wilkie’s gout returned at times of stress, such as when he was under pressure to write a serial. Occasionally it attacked his eyes, and he would dictate to Caroline’s daughter, Carrie (page 335). From the early 1860s, he began taking laudanum (tincture of opium) for the pain. By the time he died in 1889, he was taking enough each day to kill twelve people (page 336).

In later years, his writing deteriorated. After The Moonstone in 1868, Wilkie did not write another such successful novel. There were some modest successes, but nothing to the same extent of his early writing. After an unpopular serial novel, magazines would not serialize his next. They even suggested that he was too literary (and therefore too expensive) for their household magazine (page 395).

Wilkie also took the time to tour America and Canada, but he was not as popular there. He also struggled to retain copyright in America; his publications were constantly underscored by illegal pirated versions, both in print and on the stage.

Peters mentions that Wilkie’s successes at the theater were detrimental to his novels. Earlier in his career, he would write a novel (such as Armadale) and then later in his career, he’d adapt it for a theater production (Miss Gwilt). In later years, he would write a novel with a theater production in mind. Thus, his later novels have less character development and more theatricality and dialogue.

Peters also suggests that he was stale.

Little of his work after The Moonstone transcends its era and the limitations of the sensation genre. By comparison with the novels Wilkie Collins wrote in the 1860s, many of the later ones seem flat and dated. (page 313)

Wilkie’s favorite writers throughout his life were Honore de Balzac, Sir Walter Scott, Lord Byron, and James Fenimore Cooper. Although they might have been influential in the beginning of his life, by the end, these were still his favorite, and he had no taste for the newer styles of fiction out there. So, while Wilkie began as an “inventor” of new types of fiction, in the end he began to resent those who invented new fiction (see page 377-8 and 420-421).

In the end, whether it was his opium addiction that brought about less clear descriptions, or his desire to put moral lessons in his novels, or his own inability to see the world in a cutting-edge way, Wilkie Collins lost his ability to consistently write engaging novels. His last years were hit or miss. When he died, his estate was worth just over £10,000, much less than he’d have expected. As specified in his will, the money was divided between the families of his mistresses. Although he’d intended for them to live well, they vanished into obscurity. Probably due to embarrassment at their own illegitimacy, his three children went by the name of Dawson for the remainder of their lives.

In Conclusion

Wilkie Collins’ life is almost as fascinating as his sensational novels. One of the aspects of Peters’ biography that I loved was her detailed discussion of the books Wilkie wrote: particularly the inspiration for the story and the ways in which each book was innovative for Victorian England. I don’t, however, have the time or space to detail all of them. If you are interested in Wilkie Collins (and this post still hasn’t fulfilled your craving!), I’d highly recommend Peters’ biography, The King of Inventors. It really puts Wilkie’s Victorian literature into context.

Also, check out the rest of the Wilkie Collins Classic Circuit.

• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
• Victorian Second Helpings (The Moonstone by Collins and North and South by Gaskell)
• Reading Journal (16 December): A Classics Circuit TBR List from Wilkie Collins to Harlem
• A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
• March by Geraldine Brooks
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• Jane Austen: A Biography by Carol Shields, a Quote Book, and a History of England
• Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts
• Reading Journal (18 Nov): Planning for a Quiet December

Jane Austen: A Life by Carol Shields

I loved Carol Shields’ biography of Jane Austen! The narrator for the audiobook had a lovely Austen-esque British accent, which gave it a great sense of place. Then Shields began by admitting that she’s an “amateur Jane Austen fan” who goes to the Jane Austen Society of North America meetings because she loves Austen so much. That made me think of her as a kindred spirit.

While I haven’t read many Austen novels (yet), I loved Shields’ emphasis on the fact that we can learn from and compare Jane Austen’s own life to the setting, characters, and situations in her novels.

It was very short (about 5 ½ hours, the equivalent of 180 pages) and yet I feel I have a greater understanding of the remarkable woman who wrote some delightful romances.

Some random facts about Jane Austen (and long-time Austen fans probably already know all of these things):

• Jane Austen spent her first years farmed out to a neighbor for nursing purposes. (Apparently, mothers did not normally feed their own babies.)
• Jane Austen had a romantic interest in Thomas Lefroy but neither of them had money, so nothing came of it.
• Jane Austen was engaged for one night to Harris Big-Wither. She returned the next morning to cancel the engagement.
• Jane’s sister Cassandra was engaged to a sailor, who died. He left Cassandra all his money in his will. Cassandra never married.
• Jane’s father wrote the query letter to a publisher for the manuscript of Pride and Prejudice; he really believed in her!
• Jane’s novel (now known as) Northanger Abbey was purchased for ten pounds, but never published; Jane eventually bought it back. It was not published until after her death.
• When her father retired (he was a vicar), he moved the unmarried Austen sisters to Bath, where he died, leaving his widowed wife and two unmarried daughters rather poor. Jane did not write any novels during the ten years she lived in Bath.
• Jane had to pay out-of-pocket to get Sense and Sensibility (first published novel) printed.
• Jane Austen was “encouraged” to dedicate Emma to the Prince Regent, which she was probably not happy about, since he probably never read it.
• Jane Austen died age age 41 of what may have been breast cancer (although Wikipedia suggests Hodgkin’s lymphoma).

Jane Austen’s Little Advice Book edited by Cathryn Michon and Pamela Norris

Then I turned to a short little quote book that jumped out at me while I was at the library one day. The editors of this quote book admit feeling a little guilty to earning money on this book, since Jane Austen herself never earned more than £700 in her lifetime. Yet, it’s rather cute and it was fun to read over the course of an hour.

Using only Jane’s own words, including letters, her unpublished works, and her published novels, the editors give us Austen’s “advice” on Men and Women, Love and Marriage, Family, Worldy Things, The Human Condition, Social Life, The Literary Life, Odd Topics, and Jane Predicts the Future. They readily admit that they take quotes out of context, and I must say that the editors’ comments on each quote are the most amusing parts. From those chapters, I must say my favorite part was the “predicts the future” section, with such quotes as these.

On Predicting the Success of the TV Series E.R.

A sick chamber may often furnish the worth of volumes. (from Persuasion)

On Not Worrying About the Ozone Layer

What fine weather this is… at least everybody fancies so, and imagination is everything. (from the letters of Jane Austen)

There are 125 pages worth of fun quotes, and reading through them got me even more excited to read Sense and Sensibility (as well as the other novels) in the future.

Two Histories of England by Jane Austen and Charles Dickens

Jane Austen’s The History of England and A Child’s History of England by Charles Dickens are a bit harder for me to write about because, um, I know nothing about the history of England. Therefore, I missed the delightful jibes and jokes that Austen wrote and, while I understood Dickens had an interesting bias and judgment of history, it did not make sense to me in a historical way as the writer of the introduction indicated it would.

Jane Austen wrote her short manuscript for her sister when she was 16, and it was clearly a parody of history books. From my perspective, it certainly was amusing. For example:

“Edward the 5^th: This unfortunate prince lived so little a while that nobody had time to draw his picture.” (page 5)

Her snide remarks about various kings and queens really went over my head, since, as I mention, I know little about England’s history. I can only assume her frequent and over-the-top defense of the Stuarts was more sarcasm.

Charles Dickens’ A Child’s History of England is also sarcastic and judgmental. He refers to King James the First as “His Sowship” because that’s what James’ favorite helper called him and Dickens “cannot do better than call his majesty what his favourite called him” (page 72). The disdain is just dripping throughout the descriptions of the king’s reign.

But Dickens’ history (which is much longer, and apparently is only an excerpt from the whole) is packed full of all sorts of extraneous details that make it fascinating and fun. I loved learning about the Gunpowder Plot through Dickens’ imaginative story!

To me, the most amusing thing about Dickens’ account  is that, according to the introduction, it was actually a part of the school curricula for British school children “well into the 20^th century” (introduction, page ix). My question is: was it used as a history text or rather as a humourous part of British culture? As I read, I kept laughing at the thought of this being a proper history textbook. There were so many descriptive beheadings!

I first saw this on Heather J.’s blog and I had to get it!

Have any people from England read Austen’s or Dickens’ histories? I’m curious as to the “accuracy” and/or the impact of the humor on those that actually are familiar with the history of England.

Which Austen novels are your favorites? I’ve still only read Pride and Prejudice and Northanger Abbey. (But I’ve seen all the movies!)

• Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
• Churchill’s History of the English-Speaking Peoples, abridged by Henry Steele Commager
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
• The Life of Our Lord by Charles Dickens
• Personal History by Katharine Graham + Why I Love a Great Biography
• Twenty Years at Hull-House by Jane Addams
• November in Review + Reading Journal (2 Dec)
• Victorian Second Helpings (The Moonstone by Collins and North and South by Gaskell)
• Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
• A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

You see, I’ve been converted. There is, there has been, and there will have been, only one Julia Child in all of history. Her story (which I read in My Life in France) is fascinating and inspiring, her cooking style (which I experienced in part in Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom) is refreshingly simple, and together the two Julia Child books I read gave me hope for my own pathetic cooking abilities. It is, therefore, completely unfair to include Ms. Franklin’s book (and my criticisms of it) in the same post. Nevertheless, because I read Julia Child on the wake of Too Many Cooks, Ms. Franklin is a part of my experience in the past few weeks.

I enjoyed Too Many Cooks: Kitchen Adventures with 1 Mom, 4 Kids, and 102 Recipes by Emily Franklin to some extent. Some of her ideas were right on with what I’d expect. For example, she believes one gets kids to eat healthful foods by feeding them healthful foods, not by hiding vegetables in brownies. Also, she suggests great ways to introduce unfamiliar foods by explaining how they are similar to the foods the children are already familiar with.

Yet, I had expected more cooking inspiration for how to feed a family. Instead, I felt it was a Mommy-blog style book, with lots of emphasis on how great a mom she is because she does such and such. That’s not to say it was bad: it just wasn’t my style, since I personally get bored with mommy blogs. “Mommy blogs” also give me a guilt complex since I know I will never have the energy and talent, for example, to improvise a muffin recipe in the 45 minutes before soccer practice.

Too Many Cooks also failed to inspire me in the kitchen because it seemed Ms Franklin was so far beyond my abilities, especially since she readily admitted to having worked as a cook in a luxury yacht in the years before mommy-hood. In my pre-mommy years, I was preparing Rice-a-Roni four or five nights a week. That’s not to say the recipes in Too Many Cooks (for example, Monte Cristo sandwiches and Cornish pasties and chicken nuggets) are “fancy” or incredibly challenging. But they are not simple, and they are not recipes that give you a foundation for future cooking. (I felt rather incompetent when Ms. Franklin’s easy Mommy Chicken Nuggets recipe took me two hours. I wrote a few posts about some of the recipes I tried on my Cooking Journal.)

I didn’t realize how uninspired I was until I picked up Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom, a slim 110-page volume Julia Child produced in the last years of her life. I’ve always been intimidated by Julia Child, since Mastering the Art of French Cooking is a monster tome (and comes in two volumes) and “French Cooking” in general is not practical for a mommy on a budget. In short, I’ve been afraid of reading Julia Child.

All that was without foundation, for Julia’s Wisdom made cooking sound easy. The best part is that I believe her: it is that easy. She’s not trying to give us recipes for a lifetime of cooking: she’s trying to share tidbits of the most important techniques that we may need over a lifetime. Her philosophy is

Once you have mastered a technique, you hardly need look at a recipe again. (page 3, Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom)

Kitchen Wisdom has a few basic recipes for soups; salads;  vegetables; meats, poultry and fish; egg cookery; breads, crepes, and tarts; cakes and cookies. Each section also has ideas for variations. I’ve tried a few of the recipes and they seem simple enough. While they all certainly have the French influence, they are not as overwhelming as I anticipated. I almost want to check out Mastering the Art of French Cooking now!

As I write about this book of “essentials,” I am reminded of Alice Waters’ book (The Art of Simple Food), which I reviewed at the beginning of the Spice of Life Challenge. I’m not sure what the difference was (both focus on the basics to help us know how to make food taste good) but in some respects, I feel Julia Child is better able to speak to the incompetent cook: myself.

I fell even more in love with Julia Child when I read her memoir, My Life in France. Just as I doubted her cookbook, I doubted I’d relate to this story. But I was delightfully surprised. I was amazed to learn that when she was first married, her cooking was much like my cooking when I was first married:

My meals were satisfactory, but they took hours of laborious effort to produce. I’d usually plop something on the table by 10:00 p.m., have a few bites, and collapse into bed. (My Life in France, page 6)

Julia Child did not know how to cook. Her husband’s work took them to France, and there Julia Child found herself without much to do. But the delectable food had made an impression on her from the first day, and she became determined to learn how to produce it.

I could relate to that as well. Although I am not sure I’ve had any true “French” food, my husband took me to a delicious restaurant in Chicago while we were dating and I was so impressed by the meal as an experience I’ve wanted to improve my own cooking abilities. There is something about eating that can move you, if you let it!

The most impressive part of Julia Child’s story was her determination. She spent weeks on a project (mayonnaise, for example) until she got it right. Although she was a student at the Cordon Bleu, the school was (from this perspective) rather inept, and she had to teach herself the essentials of cooking. And she did.

Although a French-style cook book for American audiences was Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle’s idea, Julia Child was the one that understood what creating such a book for an American audience would require. She was the one that worked out the amounts for most of the recipes. Although Simone Beck did a lot of work too, Julia Child was the rock behind the project. If you’ll pardon a ridiculous pun, she was the yeast that allowed it to rise to its monumental size, depth, and ultimate success.

I loved the memoir. I loved Julia’s relationship with her husband, Paul. I loved the image of France it created in my mind. It’s probably changed since then (as Julia mentions), but the idyllic people, places, and food were simply fascinating from the historical perspective. We can only wish it were so peaceful now! (And someday I will make it to Provence.)

There were so many inspiring quotes in My Life in France. I imagine it is one I’ll reread someday: maybe then I’ll take care to write down the snippets of Julia’s wisdom so we can all learn from the Master.

Julia Child’s memoir (and her cook book) is inspiring for the busy family cook. Just as it illustrates that learning to cook good food is not a year-long project, but a life-long pursuit, it also illustrates that it is possible and even fun! Thanks to Julia Child for bringing delicious food to America, and for giving housewives the inspiration to attempt the seemingly impossible!

As my husband said every time I stopped reading to tell him an inspiring story: “There is a reason Julia Child is a household name!”

• My Spice of Life “Feast”: A Pool of Books to Chose From
• A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg
• The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters
• The Elements of Cooking by Michael Ruhlman
• The Spice of Life Challenge
• An Edge in the Kitchen by Chad Ward
• Pretend Soup by Mollie Katzen and Ann Henderson
• The Making of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman
• Reading Journal (4 Nov): Reading Progress and Library Loot
• The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

I hadn’t realized when I began reading that these books were true, but then I found them in the nonfiction section! The first is collection of letters between Helene Hanff and Frank Doel, the proprietor of a used book shop in London, during their 20-year correspondence (1949-1969). The second book is Helene’s journal when she finally makes it to London, a lifelong dream that comes true only after the first book was published.

I loved the book talk, and while neither of these books were favorites of mine, I did love learning about Helene’s reading and studying style. Oh, the power of books!

84, Charing Cross Road was a delightfully light collection of letters. I enjoyed the banter between Helene and Frank. I was a little sad by how few letters captured the last years of the correspondence. The friendship was still obviously clear, but the letters were fewer. Keeping the book as it was (simply a collection of letters) made it more powerful, though. Because the letters were every few years instead of every few months, I, as the reader, could see how this long-distance friendship meant so much to the two book lovers. It was sweet.

I wanted to see how Helene finally got to London, so I quickly found the second book after I finished the first. I admit that I was disappointed in The Duchess of Bloombury Street. I disliked the casual writing style in the second book (although it hadn’t bothered me in the letters of the first), and I didn’t like Helene’s overbearing personality as it came across in the second book (most people seem to like her sense of humor, but it wasn’t for me). I couldn’t relate to most of the sites she was longing to see in London (I have not read enough to know the authors and places she mentions), and I’m the wrong generation to be interested in the celebrities she spent time with.

But all the complaints aside (and I think I’m the only person in blogdom to complain at all), I’m very glad I read both books. I loved the book talk, and I loved the look at the thoughts and desires of another compulsive reader. What struck me was how isolated Helene seemed, living alone and working freelance at home. She seemed to have no other person with whom she could share her reading loves and the thoughts she had about books.

In that sense, then, reading Hanff’s story made me all the more glad for book blogging. Helene Hanff was a blogger born 50 years too early. She missed the community, and she would have loved it.

The Movie

I normally have a hard time with books to movies, and I find I enjoy the movie much more if I wait to watch it until long after I’d read the book. This was one that probably could have used some distance.

The majority of the movie was excerpts from letters that Helene (Anne Bancroft) and Frank (Anthony Hopkins) wrote to each other, and so there was little action (my husband fell asleep in about 15 minutes). The action that there was seemed to suggest things that I hadn’t interpreted from the book: that Frank wasn’t completely happy with his wife, that there was an unspoken romantic tension between the two, even though they’d never met. While I’m sure there was a special bond between the two book lovers, the suggested romance did not seem to have come from the book. I also missed some of the great books quotes. The movie and the acting was okay overall, but I much preferred the book (but no surprise there).

Helene’s Reading Style

I really loved Helene’s reading style. First, she has no qualms with disliking books:

I houseclean my books every spring and throw out hose I’m never going to read again like I throw out clothes I’m never going to wear again. It shocks everybody. My friends are peculiar about books. They read all the best sellers, they get through them as fast as possible, I think they skip a lot. And they NEVER read anything a second time so they don’t remember a word of it a year later. But they are profoundly shocked to see me drop a book in the wastebasket or give it away. They way they look at it, you buy a book, you read it, you put it on the shelf, you never open it again for the rest of your life but YOU DON’T THROW IT OUT! NOT IF IT HAS A HARD COVER ON IT! Why not? I personally can’t think of anything less sacrosanct than a bad book or even a mediocre book. (84, Charing Cross Road, page 54)

I don’t throw my books out any more, but that’s only because Bookmooch allows me to pass them on to a happier reader. I could really relate to Helene, and I felt like saying “Finally! Someone who understands me!”

Do you throw away (or give away, etc.) books you hate? Do you throw away (or give away) books you’ll never read again? Why or why not?

And then I also really liked her description of how she gave herself her college education: by reading Arthur Quiller-Couch’s serious of lectures. Whenever she first got to a literary reference she wasn’t familiar with, she said, “Wait here” and went and read the book in question. And when that book had a reference she wasn’t familiar with, she went and got that book. This went on until she was familiar with the issues at hand; then she returned to Quiller-Couch (Q). She says,

So what with one thing and another and an average of three ‘Wait here’s’ a week, it took me eleven years to get through Q’s five books of lectures. (The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, pages 51 to 52)

Now, that is a dedicated learner! I envy her dedication to the project, and I realize that that kind of careful reading, reading to truly understand, is what I’d love to do. I often find I’m lacking patience. I think I’d fail to get through one volume of Q at that rate. And yet, how marvelous it would be to have read so carefully!

Do you do research if you don’t know a reference you come across in a book? I’m sad to say I certainly don’t do much, beyond consulting Wikipedia and moving on.

The last thing that stood out to me was her depth of reading. She may have been pretty narrowly limited to English Literature, but she sure knew it well.

I’m always ashamed when I discover how well-read other people are and how ignorant I am in comparison. If you saw the long list of famous books and authors I’ve never read you wouldn’t believe it. My problem is that while other people are reading fifty books I’m reading one book fifty times. (The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, page 106).

I can definitely relate to that. I want to be a widely-read person (as I’ve mentioned before), but I’d also love to really know some books. My problem is, I can’t decide which books to read fifty times!

Do you/have you read any book fifty times?

If you love reading, you may be intrigued by Helene’s letters and journal. Neither of these books are books I’ll ever revisit, but I enjoyed reading them once.

P.S. I do personally think this book about books beginning during the aftermath of WWII was the inspiration for Guernsey (thoughts here). But I thought Hanff’s story was better, mainly because it was real.

If you want to know which books are part of the exchange between Helene and Frank, Wikipedia shares a partial list of the books mentioned or ordered by Hanff in 84, Charing Cross Road.

Other reviews:

• Nymeth (review got me to read the book)
• At Home With Books
• The Literate Housewife Review
• Care’s Online Bookclub
• Books and Movies
• Citizen Reader
• Book Nut
• The Book Lady’s Blog
• The Bluestocking Society
• Library Queue
• A Comfy Chair and a Good Book
• Bart’s Bookshelf

If I missed your review of either book, let me know and I’ll add it here.

• August in Review
• Reading Journal (26 Aug): Focused Reading
• Reading Journal (22 July): Reading as a Priority
• Reading Journal (19 Aug): Miscellany
• Palestine by Joe Sacco
• Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers
• Chicago, Chicago!
• Reading in Spanish (Neruda’s Poetry and La casa en Mango Street by Cisneros)
• To Kill a Mockingbird, The Movie

Anthologist and “historian of ideas” Joe Wheeler has also been fascinated by Lincoln, and he spent seventeen years studying the fascinating man and collecting stories about him. Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage is Joe Wheeler’s collection of favorite stories from the life of the sixteenth president, focusing on the development of Lincoln’s faith and morals.

I really enjoyed the stories Wheeler collected. The book was personable and readable, so it moved quickly. Because I am religious, I appreciated the emphasis on Lincoln’s faith, and the first-person, opinionated side-notes, while completely unnecessary, made it feel like I was sitting by a rocking chair listening to my grandpa (or someone else’s grandpa) tell his favorite stories from Lincoln’s life. It felt like a book of reminiscences.

Despite that pleasant approach, I still ended up being disappointed at times. It’s important to realize that Wheeler’s Abraham Lincoln is not an academic biography. I’m a compulsive endnote reader, so when I read a story or quote, I immediately want to see where it came from; I’m constantly flipping to the back of the book to look at the sources. With this book, it seemed many of the stories were not documented; none of the epigrams (quotes by Lincoln before sections in the chapter) were documented; and many of the stories that were documented were taken from other biographies, not “original” material.  To avoid being frustrated, I had to keep reminding myself that Wheeler is a compiler of stories, not an academic historian.

I tend to prefer my biographies to be fact rather than hearsay, and I tend to prefer a carefully written, non-personal narrator rather than a first-person narrator that writes in sentence fragments, even if the sentence fragments are more “readable.” But the purpose of this book was different: to build an image of the character of this man that so many people revere. The religious purpose behind the book was rather blatant, but because I knew what it was going in to it, I appreciated it. I wanted to read a book of stories about Lincoln’s faith.

Reading Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage as a collection of stories (and not as a biography) was certainly enjoyable. While reading Freedman’s Photobiography gave me a feel for the facts (Freedman was careful to only give information that was documented fact, claiming to refute the “myths”), Wheeler’s Abraham Lincoln gave me a feel for the traditional, inspiring personality that is the man Abraham Lincoln. I’m glad I read it, but unless you are specifically interested in the canon of stories relating to Lincoln’s faith, I’d probably recommend starting with something more factual and/or academic.

What type of biography do you prefer: academic (endnote heavy) or conversational (story-driven)?

I’ve only read these two biographies of Lincoln, although I have Team of Rivals on my upcoming radar. My interest in this man is still keen. What biography of Lincoln have you read and loved?

I read Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage for the U.S. Presidential Reading project.

If you have reviewed Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage on your blog, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Lincoln: A Photobiography by Russell Freedman
• August in Review
• Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard Lyman Bushman
• Reading Journal (29 July): Summer Mode to Blog Reading
• Nonfiction Five Challenge
• Reading Journal (22 July): Reading as a Priority
• Reading Journal (5 August): Library Loot
• The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester
• Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Twenty Years at Hull-House is Jane Addams’ autobiography until about 1910, a chronicle of the various reforms she brought to life and some of the things that changed the lives of the immigrants (9,000 a year). Hull-House was a non-political, non-religious haven for those that had no other advocate in a busy city. The story is remarkable.

I have never read anything quite like this before, and so this “review” is more of a collection of notes, quotes, and issues that stood out to me as I read it.

Twenty Years of Hull-House is written not in chronological order (except for the first few chapters covering her childhood) but rather in topical order.  In places, the text did become dry when it discussed people, philosophies, and economic issues I was unfamiliar with. But reading a more difficult book was well worth the effort for me. In a sense, it opened my eyes to the plight of the poor. While the issues have changed in the past 100 years, I believe that the underlying isolation that comes with poverty or immigration is still pertinent today. I liked reading this book both for the historical value and for the interesting perspective of hands-on social work.

Why Jane Addams Began It All

Jane Addams’ ability to see those without her privileges may have been due to the influence of her father. When she was but a child, he encouraged her to think about others:

[A]s a little girl of eight years, arrayed in a new cloak, gorgeous beyond anything I had ever worn before, I stood before my father for his approval. I was much chagrined by his remark that it was a very pretty cloak – in fact so much prettier than any cloak the other little girls in the Sunday School had, that he would advise me to wear my old cloak, which would keep me quite as warm, with the added advantage of not making the other little girls feel badly. (page 15)

I wonder how many fathers today encourage their children to be less materialistic.

Jane Addams determined to set up a settlement house in Chicago after seeing a similar type of house in London (in the 1880s). It seems she could intuitively see the disparities among the people, and she sympathized with those that were ignored. One major problem was that the poverty-stricken new immigrants didn’t take initiative when they had problems, and “[t]he policy of the public authorities [was] of never taking an initiative, and always waiting to be urged to do their duty….” (page 68). Hull-House opened its doors September 18, 1889. She ran Hull House until her death in 1935, at age seventy-four. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1931.

Challenges

Jane Addams found it difficult to lead a settlement house in a politically charged city, in a politically radical age. This was the age in which even the President of the United States, President McKinley, was assassinated. She found that Hull-House “constantly clashed with the existing political code” (page 207). Politicians, it seems, were especially crooked even then, hoping to get Hull-House to stop fighting for certain issues if enough money were placed on the table. From this account, it seems Jane Addams certainly did her best to keep Hull-House non-political, but rather practical. She fought for the social reforms that the people needed.

In addition to political pressure, Jane Addams faced religious pressure. Those people providing financial backing for the settlement worried about the apparent non-religiosity of the organization, and in fact hesitated to support it because of that. Why not provide a community center for religious worship, they asked Addams. Her reply:

[T]he residents of Hull-House could not come together for religious worship because there were among us Jews, Roman Catholics, English Churchmen, Dissenters, and a few agnostics, and … we had found unsatisfactory the diluted form of worship which we could carry on together … [T]his diversity of creed was part of the situation in American settlements…. (page 288)

It was striking to me that religion was so closely connected to social reform in that day. When one looks at the ethnic make-up of the Hull-House neighborhood, Addams’ comment makes sense, and the diversity of American religions seems to reflect on America as a whole.

Making a Difference

The ignorance of the leaders of Hull-House was quickly turned in to campaign for social reform. Even an attempt to give children a treat turned in to an eye-opening experience:

Our very first Christmas at Hull-House, when we as yet knew nothing of child labor, a number of little girls refused the candy which was offered them as part of the Christmas good cheer, saying simply that they “worked in a candy factory and could not bear the sight of it.” We discovered that for six weeks they had worked from seven in the morning until nine at night, and they were exhausted as well as satiated. (page 132)

After such an eye-opening experience, child labor laws quickly became an issue for Hull-House to fight for, as did general labor laws, since many of the adult immigrants worked such long hours that they died in accidents due to exhaustion.

Beyond social reform, the major aspect that stood out to me was the education that Hull-House encouraged. So many of the things they taught the people made me wonder at the social situation of the immigrants in the pre-Hull House days.

For example, Hull-House workers found that because so many babies died in infancy, the immigrant mothers blamed it on the fact that the babies had cow’s milk in the USA and goat’s milk back in the home country (in this case, Italy). They had to learn about basic sanitation and only feed their newborn babies sanitary milk (page 167). Another example: The trash overflowed on to the streets, and the children’s first play yards and toys were garbage heaps and maggots. It’s no wonder that children died at a young age. Jane Addams took the responsibility to be garbage inspector, and Hull-House purchased property to make a proper playground (page 185-188). To think that such basic sanitation issues brought death to a community of people was heart-breaking.

Further, there was a big disparity between the generations because the adults “lost their hold upon their Americanized children.” The parents also could not understand their children’s desires of recreation and play; after all, the adults as children had worked all day in the fields, why should the children not work all day in Chicago? Jane Addams realized that there was some need for “a bridge between European and American experiences in such wise as to give them both more meaning and a sense of relation” (page 155). It seems to me that modern-day poor immigrants and their Americanized children may similarly find conflict.

Literacy and Art

I was excited to see the influence of books and art on the immigrants. Jane Addams said:

I once asked one of these young people, a man who held a good position on a Chicago daily, what special thing Hull-House had mean to him, and he promptly replied, “It was the first house I had ever been in where books and magazines just lay around as if there were plenty of them in the world. . . .  To have people regard reading as a reasonable occupation changed the whole aspect of life to me and I began to have confidence in what I could do. (page 224)

And further, when Hull-House had an art exhibit, an immigrant was surprised “when he found that we, although Americans, still liked pictures, and said quite naively that he didn’t know that Americans cared for anything but dollars – that looking at pictures was something people only did in Italy” (page 240). In his otherwise bleak life, it must have been wonderful to see something beautiful and familiar.

Those two experiences reflect to need for the encouragement of literacy and art among the poor.

What Do We Do?

At one point, Jane Addams explains that “our very [American] democracy so long presupposed that each citizen could care for himself that we are slow to develop a sense of social obligation” (page 237). Addams said that statement as a matter of fact, and I certainly can see that today. Certainly, the newly arrived immigrants weren’t accustomed to a lot of things about their new country and home. Maybe the poor today need to learn how to take care of themselves, as the poor immigrants Jane Addams helped were.

I’ve thought about what I could do today. I still don’t know. I feel nothing I could do would even remotely match the work of a Settlement. Addams herself pointed out the different between a “relief station” and a “settlement”:

… the difference between the relief-station relation to the poor and the Settlement relation to its neighbors, the latter wishing to know them through all the varying conditions of life, to stand by when they are in distress, but by no means to drop intercourse with them when normal prosperity has returned, enabling the relation to become more social and free from economic disturbance. (page 111)

Because I can’t give up my life to work for free at a settlement for fifty years, as Jane Addams did, I know I cannot have the influence she had. But maybe I can do something to show that I care about the issues.

Jane Addams paraphrased something that I think hits home to us “book bloggers” and novel readers:

Mr. Howells has said that we are all so besotted with our novel reading that we have lost the power of seeing certain aspects of life with any sense of reality because we are continually looking for the possible romance. (page 200)

Addams argues that there is “romance” to the poverty side of real life; you just have to get to know it.

Have you read about Jane Addams? What do you think was her greatest legacy?

Other Reviews and Sites of Interest:

• Twenty Years at Hull-House, complete text at Project Gutenberg
• Hull House on Wikipedia
• History of Social Work on Wikipedia
• Jane Addams on Wikipedia

If you have reviewed Twenty-Years at Hull House, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Chicago, Chicago!
• Library Summer Reading Programs Completed!
• Jane Austen: A Biography by Carol Shields, a Quote Book, and a History of England
• Hunger: An Unnatural History by Sharman Apt Russell
• Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
• August in Review
• The Arrival by Shaun Tan
• Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg
• Reading Journal (5 August): Library Loot
• A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift

Molly Wizenberg’s A Homemade Life is a great example why someone else’s life may be incredibly interesting, simply because Molly’s life has been defined by food. And as she explains each chapter of her life for us, she provides recipes so we can experience the integral food too, if we choose.

It’s so much fun to see a life through the eyes of delicious foods. Molly shows that food is a communal part of our lives, helping to form lasting memories and lasting relationships. Food really can tell the stories of our lives, as Molly’s memoir/cookbook attests.

As she writes of her childhood, for example, she shares her dad’s excellent French toast. As she writes of her first trip to Paris, she writes of the bread and chocolate that defined her days.  As she writes of the holidays, she shares favorite holiday treats. And then, of course, there are her Paris recipes, and her best friends’ recipes, and her vegetarian boyfriend’s salad recipes. And Molly could just keep going, I’m sure.

But A Homemade Life is not just about the food. Molly’s memoir is excellently written, easily readable, and absolutely delightful. I know “delightful” is a cliché, but this book seriously fits the word without being cliché. It is real, and yet amusing and engaging all at the same time.

As Molly writes about her dad’s death, for example, I was in tears myself, thinking about the impact he had had on her life. His was an influence not to be forgotten. As Molly moved on with her life, she realized that. She subsequently learned to follow her dreams, even when they took the form of a food blog (Orangette). In fact, the only thing missing from this book are the gorgeous photographs Molly normally includes along with her blog posts on Orangette.

Many of the recipes Molly shares are a bit too “fancy” for my tastes. I’m primarily a family cook, and I don’t cook with specialty foods simply for cost reasons. “French style” cooking is not really my thing. But I do like simple food, and some of the recipes appear simple; at least a dozen and a half have entered my personal recipe file for future experimentation.

Molly’s story comes full circle, with the one center point in every part of her life being food.  In the end, I love the concept that foods, and not only the events, make up a life.

I would never think of delicious food as the center point of my childhood memories, and that’s okay. But it is encouraging to me that food can be such a staple in a life, and I look forward to making delicious food a memorable part of my family’s life going forward.

In the end, I can say I liked reading Molly’s story so much I intend to reread it someday. And cook her recipes.

What food memories do you recall from various stages of your life? As a child, I recall my dad’s pancakes on Saturday mornings. As an adult, I recall the risotto my husband made for me for one of our first dates.

A Homemade Life was a memoir read for The Spice of Life Challenge.

Other Reviews:

• Books Lists Life
• I Read What??
• Books and Cooks

If you have reviewed A Homemade Life on your blog, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters
• A Bite of the Spice of Life (Two Books by Julia Child and Too Many Cooks by Emily Franklin)
• My Spice of Life “Feast”: A Pool of Books to Chose From
• Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel + Giveaway
• Pretend Soup by Mollie Katzen and Ann Henderson
• The Spice of Life Challenge
• The Making of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman
• An Edge in the Kitchen by Chad Ward
• The Elements of Cooking by Michael Ruhlman
• My Antonia by Willa Cather

Enter: Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts. In a conversational tone, Roberts shares some of the stories about the women who founded the country. She, too, had been tired of hearing about how remarkable the men were founded the country: what about the women? This, then, is full of some of their stories. Roberts’ conclusion was (interestingly) that the women behind those men were no more extraordinary than you and I: they simply did what was asked of them.

The book had plenty of flaws. Most of the author’s asides and explanations were rather distracting, and it sometimes felt rambling and off-topic. I do wish it was better written or at least better organized. The casual tone made me feel like I was listening to random anecdotes rather than a comprehensive historical account. It didn’t feel comprehensive, nor did it feel like a true historical record. It was a collection of stories about women, full of sometimes extraneous detail. And there were a lot of women!

However, because I was listening to the audiobook in short intervals, such an anecdotal format was okay for me. And the details did make it interesting.

I may remember some interesting facts and the names. I’m already forgetting most of the details, and some of the women are mixing up in my mind. That’s okay for me. I’ve had an entertaining and yet informative introduction to the founding ladies of the United States. I’m glad I checked it out.

The audio book was narrated by the author. Overall, I enjoyed it, with one exception: to my disappointment, I noticed only after checking it out that it is “Unabridged Selections.” In other words, it is abridged. I have no idea how much was excised from the book, and I wholeheartedly wish there was a completely unabridged option in audio. The author’s asides were still annoying in the audio format. Did she just add them because she was reading it aloud?

Will you like this book? I don’t know. It’s casual almost to a fault. But that may be just what you’re looking for.

What woman from the U.S. Revolutionary Era would you like to learn more about? Can you name any influential women from the 1700s and what they did?

As I listened, I kept remembering David McCullough’s powerful, carefully researched, and comprehensive biography of John Adams. That’s a biography I’d love to reread. I’m fascinated by Abigail Adams, and I’d love to learn more about her.

Other Reviews:

• Book Nut
• Marion’s Blog

If you have reviewed Founding Mothers on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester
• A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
• Will in the World by Stephen Greenblatt
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• The Life of Wilkie Collins (Biographies by Clarke and Peters)
• Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage by Joe Wheeler
• The Discoverers by Daniel Boorstin
• Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn
• Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard Lyman Bushman
• Personal History by Katharine Graham + Why I Love a Great Biography

Much of her autobiography was written prior to 1988, before she was elected prime minister. She says she wrote it “to set down the record of the brutal Martial Law regime of General Zia ul-Haq” (page 374). The remainder of her book shares how she was briefly allowed to serve the country and restore some democratic freedoms before a dictatorship again gained control of the country.

Despite all the drama with which Bhutto wrote, for much of the time I was reading, I fundamentally didn’t understand the import of resisting the regime. From my couch in the USA, it seemed to be an unnecessary, violent political struggle. Then I read a letter Bhutto received from a political prisoner:

I prefer to be hanged than live under the oppressor. To give in is not our principle. We are not ready to call a donkey a horse, or black or white, out of fear of Martial Law. (page 276)

I finally understood a little bit what it meant to live under a dictator: it meant denying what you know to be true because you’re threatened.

That type of understanding is why I read about the histories of other cultures. I feel I cannot relate at all: I live in a peaceful country and have my entire life. Bhutto’s story is one of a country that had been (relatively) peaceful her entire life (for she was born into an independent Pakistan), until a military dictator took over the democratically elected government and established military rule.

Benazir Bhutto shares her passion for Pakistan, the people of Pakistan, and democracy in her autobiography. I only wish it were better told: Daughter of Destiny had serious flaws that made it a frustrating read.

Destiny and Choices

Because Benazir Bhutto was born into a wealthy family, she was given many opportunities as a Pakistani and as a woman. She learned about democracy and she became a role-model for women, showing them that they can make a difference. She reminded me of Katharine Graham’s role as a woman in power (which I read about in Graham’s autobiography Personal History, reviewed here), and also  of Nelson Mandela’s fight for freedom and basic rights (which I read about in his autobiography A Long Walk to Freedom, read in pre-blogging days). Mandela, too, was wrongly imprisoned for many years, all while being a leader of an illegal political organization.

But of course Benazir Bhutto’s story is far different from these other two individuals. Bhutto reiterates throughout her book that she was “destined” to be a leader. In some respects, I agree. Her father was a politician and eventually prime minister, thus encouraging her interest in the subject. However, Benazir Bhutto had choices. She chose to study politics, while her sister did not and her brothers became terrorists. When Bhutto knew that she would be going to jail, she stayed and faced the dictator; many people did leave the country. No, Benazir had choices: her life was not destined. She chose to walk in dangerous paths.

Problems with the Text

Unfortunately, despite the fascinating subject matter, I found Daughter of Destiny to be horribly written.

Most of the book jumps from past to present tense, using flashbacks. Yet, even the flashbacks are not consistent or clear. Even without tense shifts, her thoughts are all over the board. In some places, it seems she can’t remember what the focus of a chapter is (was there ever a focus?). She desperately needed an editor or ghost writer to help her gain structure.

I also disliked how many of the dramatic events were told as if the book were a memoir. Bhutto included very specific conversations that dragged for multiple pages, complete with character actions and overly staged emotions. I feel the story would have been dramatic without the added details, so this was rather painful to read. I wished for a more straight-forward “this is my life” account, rather than a dramatic attempt to convince me that the politics of a dictator are bad.

My last criticism is that Benazir Bhutto complained a lot. Of course, this is a political biography of a political person. I didn’t realize until page 376 (as quoted above) that her main purpose was to show the wickedness of the Zia dictatorship; I thought I was reading about her life. In that sense, then, this book was a very negative portrayal of her life: every horrible thing that happened to Benazir was General Zia’s fault. I felt she failed to take responsibility for things that really were her choice. Of course General Zia made life challenging, but he didn’t make every small choice for her.

Politics Are Hard for Me

I enjoyed reading this book, but I struggle very much with these types of books: I find myself very angry with the U.S. government’s choices, and I wish something else could have been done.

In this particular case, I also found myself angry with Benazir Bhutto’s biases, especially about her father. She venerates him through the book, even considering that when he was prime minister in the 1970s, he began a nuclear program. I thought this was quite strange, considering his greatly impoverished country needed education (and basic rights!) for women and girls. It was odd to me that Benazir didn’t see the strangeness of that political decision in the midst of the Cold War. I’m not convinced her father was the wonderful leader she always claimed him to be.

I’m also not convinced that Benazir was necessarily a great political leader. Not that she was a bad one, but I felt I wasn’t getting all the story. It confused me that the Bhutto family always led. While their family obviously had the financial means, it seemed undemocratic for the leadership to default to the wealthy widow or child of the previous leader. Rich heiresses (or heirs) do not necessarily make good democratic politicians. Even when Benazir wrote her political will in 2007, she requested that her husband take over the party. That seems odd and inappropriate to me: throughout this book he never had political inclinations. He is now president of Pakistan. Does this seem odd to anyone else?

All that said, I’m glad for Bhutto’s leadership in the country when they desperately needed a democratic leader. I am very glad that Obama is expressing support of Pakistan’s democracy, and I hope the democracy can last. Pakistan needs support if this democracy is to be sustained: the country seems rather susceptible to military dictatorships.

Why I Read It

When Myrthe mentioned the Global Voices Book Challenge, I decided to join. The concept of the challenge is to read a book, fiction or nonfiction, about a country that you have never read about before by April 23. I chose to read about Pakistan;  although I read Three Cups of Tea last year, that was mostly about the American. I also didn’t finish by April 23. So I cheated.

All that said, I’m glad I took the time to read this, even though it was poorly written. I learned a lot, and I’m all the more interested in the region.

Benazir Bhutto also recently wrote Reconciliation: Islam, Democracy, and the West, this time with the help of professional writer (thank goodness!). I’ve read that it’s a rebuttal to Samuel P. Huntington’s The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, which I’m currently reading. I look forward to her thoughts.

Can you recommend a nonfiction book about Pakistan and/or Afghanistan? I’m interested in reading more about the region.

I read Daughter of Destiny for the Global Voices Book Challenge and for the World Citizen Challenge (“Biography”).

Other Reviews:

If you have reviewed Daughter of Destiny or Daughter of the East on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984) by George Orwell
• Three Cups of Tea: Counterpoints (Guest Post)
• Martel-Harper Challenge (Fourth Quarter 2008)
• My Life, According to Literature
• Kissinger by Walter Isaacson
• March in Review
• The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order by Samuel P. Huntington
• Twenty Years at Hull-House by Jane Addams
• Personal History by Katharine Graham + Why I Love a Great Biography
• Political Reading

Lincoln: A Photobiography by Russell Freedman, the Newbery Award winner for 1988, is absolutely fantastic. I learned a lot as I read the short 150 pages about the life Abraham Lincoln, complete with a brief introduction to the political turmoil surrounding him in the 1840s, 1850s and 1860s. I forgot I was reading a children’s book.

Freedman intersperses his clear, straight-forward, and intensely interesting text with photographs and paintings of Abraham Lincoln and his era. Thus, I felt like I could see the development of Abraham Lincoln throughout his life. My favorite picture of Lincoln was this one. Lincoln said it was his best likeness, but some people, notably his wife, didn’t like the disheveled hair!

There were interesting facts and tidbits that made Abraham Lincoln real for me. The best part was it was all backed up by Freedman’s research. In the acknowledgments, he includes a list of museums, libraries, and books that he referenced while writing this book. In the text, he debunks some myths for lack of evidence.

In the end, I fully trust Freedman’s account of Lincoln to be as close to fact as possible. And yet, it was easy to read, delightful, and approachable. I highly recommend Lincoln: A Photobiography to anyone, child or adult, interested in learning about our sixteenth president.

I read Lincoln: A Photobiography for the U.S. Presidents Reading Project and my personal Newbery Award reading challenge.

If you have reviewed Lincoln: A Photobiography on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Abraham Lincoln: A Man of Faith and Courage by Joe Wheeler
• Ongoing and Personal Challenges – 2009
• Death and War in Children’s Literature: Two Newberys about the Revolution
• Kissinger by Walter Isaacson
• March in Review
• August in Review
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• Gay-Neck: The Story of a Pigeon by Dhan Gopal Mukerji

Yet, in Will in the World, Stephen Greenblatt attempts to explain Shakespeare’s life by reading what he did write: his plays. In a truly remarkable way, Greenblatt ties the Bard’s life into the context of Victorian England by visiting the context of his plays.

Despite being an English major, I am not very familiar with most of Shakespeare’s work, let alone his life. I found Greenblatt’s look at Shakespeare’s life through his plays be utterly fascinating. Even if none of the suppositions Greenblatt provides were true, understanding the cultural context of the plays will help me in my future studies of the plays. I loved this “literary” biography, and I’d highly recommend it to those interested in the cultural context of the Bard.

Reading about New Historicism

When I was a geeky English major, one of my favorite ways of looking at literature was from the perspective of New Historicism, which looks at literature as a part of history. Harmon and Holman share the following thoughts about New Historicism:

The New Historicism tends to be social, economic, and political, and it views literary works … as instruments for the displaying and enforcing of doctrines about conduct, etiquette, and law. In a dynamic circle, the literature tells us something about the surrounding ideology .. and the study of the ideology tells us something about the embedded literary works. (A Handbook to Literature, eighth edition, page 346)

Stephen Greenblatt is even called “the most influential practitioner” of New Historicism.

The Life of the Bard

Will in the World definitely fits New Historicism approach to literature: it looks at Shakespeare’s plays as an instrument for recording Shakespeare’s life.

For example, to describe Shakespeare’s relationship with his wife, Anne Hathaway, Greenblatt turned not just to the remaining public records but to Shakespeare’s writing. The public records show their marriage and the birth of their first child six months later; the public records show that Will left essentially nothing to her after her death but his “best bed”, even though tradition gave widows at least a third of his property.  As for Shakespeare’s writing, there are, remarkably, no remaining letters from William to Anne.  Greenblatt turns to the poems and plays, examining various attitudes toward women at various points in Will’s life. Suffice it to say that it appears Will didn’t have a great relationship with Anne.

To me, this literary dissection was a fascinating way to learn about a literary giant. As I mentioned, much of Greenblatt’s conclusions are suppositions: there is  no long-lasting record of the facts. But Greenblatt’s familiarity with all of the Bard’s works, let alone the works of his contemporaries, makes his conclusions completely believable and fascinating.

Audiobook Review

The audiobook I listened to was recorded by Peter Jay Fernandez, an experienced Shakespeare actor. It was a great experience to listen to the book because he adjusted his voice to fit the given Shakespeare character whenever Greenblatt would quote from a play. It was a wonderful reading of the book. That said, this is one book I wish I read in paper: there were so many wonderful insights and quotes I wanted to mark down.

I’m glad I read Will in the World early in my Shakespeare studies. I feel my reading will be greatly impacted by the insights Greenblatt shared. I now intend to read Shakespeare’s complete works. After I do so, I want to revisit Will in the World and learn again the cultural context of the plays.

I highly recommend this literary biography.

I read this as part of the BiblioShakespeare Challenge.

Have you read a fascinating biography of the Bard? I’d love to read more about this mysterious man.

If you have reviewed Will in the World on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard Lyman Bushman
• Poetry for Young People: William Shakespeare
• The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• Macbeth by William Shakespeare
• My Introduction to the Harlem Renaissance
• On Writing by Stephen King
• A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
• How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas Foster
• Jane Austen: A Biography by Carol Shields, a Quote Book, and a History of England

Bushman does not omit controversy from Joseph’s life; rather, controversy surrounding Joseph is carefully researched in the context of early 1800s America. As a fellow believer in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Mormon Church), I readily enjoyed what I felt was a balanced examination a person I consider a prophet in his era. While Bushman’s account is certainly biased toward Joseph Smith as a prophet, I felt it was a fair look at both man and prophet.

Joseph Smith’s World

In his May 2005 lecture at “The Worlds of Joseph Smith” conference at The U.S. Library of Congress, Richard Bushman examined the various histories given to Joseph Smith:

The context in which [Joseph Smith] is placed effects how one sees the prophet. It colors everything about him.

In his biography, Bushman attempts to put Joseph Smith in the cultural context that helped form him in to the man and prophet that he was: the subtitle is “A Cultural Biography of Mormonism’s Founder.”I think he did an excellent job.

The Life (and Controversy) of Joseph Smith

Because Joseph Smith only kept a personal journal for six months, much of what we know is from other’s journals, public reports, and the cultural context of his life. Though he only lived 39 years, Joseph Smith profoundly believed in the revelations he had received. He also lived with an abundance of persecution. (More about Joseph Smith here.)

Revelation and Faith

Joseph Smith was a teenager when, following a personal prayer, he had a vision. Years later, he was led to an ancient record and given the power to translate it, which resulted in the Book of Mormon.

While for Joseph these experiences were calls from God for him to lead, he seldom talked about his visions: he instead emphasized baptism and repentance, among other things. He had boundless hope for personal salvation. One facet of the Mormon religion is the fact that each person is able to receive personal revelation to help them through their lives.

Joseph Smith’s life was formed by what seems to be miraculous religious experiences, and as he said on many occasions,

I don’t blame you for not believing my history[;] had I not experienced it [I] could not believe it myself. (page 551)

He certainly believed he had these experiences: he never doubted himself. Reading his history shows me his optimistic hope.

Persecution for Religion and Politics

When Joseph first discussed his miraculous vision with local church leaders as a teenager, he was scorned and told his vision was of the devil. Thus began a lifetime of persecution, for young Joseph was certain his vision was from God. His family and followers were driven from New York State and later Ohio. In Missouri, Mormons were driven out by mobs. Ultimately, he was murdered in Illinois and the remaining Mormons were driven from the state.

Surprisingly, much of the persecution stemmed from politics. For example, in Ohio, a failed economic cooperative angered the locals; in Missouri, Mormons were northerners settling in a slave state. In Illinois, Mormons sought redress from various political parties, rewarding loyalty to any leader supporting them. Joseph Smith, frustrated by the government’s lack of any redress for the violence against his followers, decided to run for president himself.  The cultural background for persecution was fascinating to discover.

Some persecution was religious discrimination. I also found the cultural rationales for this discrimination interesting.

Polygamy

The Mormons in 1843 Nauvoo, Illinois, could not imagine living in a polygamous society. Bushman did a marvelous job at expressing the shock that this doctrine had on the small community of Mormons. Joseph had doctrinal reasons for instituting the practice, and divine inspiration convinced him it was of God. Personal revelation allowed others to likewise feel divinely inspired, as Bushman showed. Bushman does not apologize for the practice but rather provides a fascinating look at the cultural context.

(While I do believe that Joseph Smith was inspired, I also believe that polygamy practiced today is not; I personally cannot explain why it was necessary to be practiced in Nauvoo in the 1840s. For the church position on polygamy in the past and today, visit the LDS.org Newsroom.)

Unbiased or Not?

Is it possible to provide an unbiased account of a man many consider to be a prophet? Bushman is an expert of Puritan and early United States history as well as a practicing Mormon. In his introduction, he discusses the challenges to writing Joseph Smith’s biography:

… To protect their own deepest commitments, believers want to shield their prophet’s reputation. On the other hand, people who have broken away from Mormonism … have to justify their decision to leave. … For a character as controversial as Smith, pure objectivity is impossible. What I can do is to look frankly at all sides of Joseph Smith, facing up to his mistakes and flaws. … (page xix)

To get inside the movement, we have to think of Smith as the early Mormons thought of him and as he thought of himself – as a revelator. (page xxi)

The Bottom Line

Bushman is a believer in Joseph Smith as a prophet, as am I. Is his history of Joseph Smith biased? Yes, of course. But his history would also be biased if he didn’t believe Joseph Smith was a prophet. As it was, I loved Bushman’s biography of Joseph Smith, and I learned about a man who was certainly not perfect. I appreciate Joseph Smith and his life’s work and sacrifice all the more knowing he’s imperfect.

Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling has been widely received in academic circles. I imagine that anyone interested in a well-researched cultural biography of Joseph Smith and the founding of Mormonism would probably appreciate Bushman’s biography. It’s the only one of its kind.

It probably doesn’t exist, but I’m now looking for a balanced biography of Brigham Young. Any recommendations?

If you have reviewed Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling on your blog, please leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Nonfiction Five Challenge
• Christ and the New Covenant by Jeffrey R. Holland
• Nineteenth-Century Mormon Architecture and City Planning by C. Mark Hamilton
• Jesus the Christ by James E. Talmage
• Will in the World by Stephen Greenblatt
• Ongoing and Personal Challenges – 2009
• Reading Journal, October 6
• Alexander McCall-Smith
• A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith

Why Woman Should Rule the World isn’t just another cliché: rather, in her well-researched social memoir of women, Dee Dee Myers shares what she’s learned about being a woman, both from her experiences as the press secretary to the U.S. President and from a life time of being a woman.  While only 10-15% of her book is memoir, the social history Myers shares and the interviews she conducts with other successful women (in politics and otherwise) support Myers’s argument for why women ruling the world could change the world.

I thought, at first, that it would be hard to engage in a social and historical review of women in leadership, but I was pleasantly surprised. Why Woman Should Rule the World was a quick read and an enlightening book that illustrated how women are different than men – and why those differences should be celebrated, not ignored.

About the Book

Because Myers is not a psychologist or sociologist (she’s political pundit and writer), her book was, I think, delightfully lighter and more approachable than it would have been. It’s not as technical as it could have been, but for that I’m incredibly grateful.

For some reason, I thought that I was going to read a memoir. I don’t usually choose memoirs unless I am already interested in the person writing it. Because I knew Dee Dee Myers’ name from The West Wing* and because I am interested in politics (from a distance…), I was attracted to this book regardless of the “memoir” label. I was surprised to find, however, that Myers’ memoir was not so much memoir as it was overall examination of the state of women in leadership around the world. I believe it is still a memoir in a sense: and yet, it is much more.

Myers organizes her argument under three parts, all of which have some of her experiences interspersed:

• Why Women Don’t Rule the World
• Why Women Should Rule the World
• How Women Can Rule the World

About Women as Leaders

As the first female press secretary to a president (Bill Clinton), Myers learned a lot about what it means to be a woman in the public work force, especially a woman with some degree of power. Much of what she learned was not pleasant. She faced firsthand the discrimination of lower pay for more work; more responsibility without the correlating benefits; and the challenge of speaking up to be heard. People judge a woman differently than they judge a man, and women have to do a lot more to be noticed.

I enjoyed the insights she shared. Myers’ argument is that women should of course be socially equal to men, but because women not the same as men, they need to stop trying to be like them: we should celebrate our strengths. And that is exactly how I feel about being a woman.

In her introduction, she clarifies:

This book is not an attack on men. It’s not meant to demean or marginalize them. … Truly, the list of man’s ( and I don’t mean “mankind’s”) accomplishments is so long and so profound that it seems silly to try to quantify it. But that doesn’t mean the world wouldn’t be better if there were more women in public life. … (page 11)

I didn’t get any sense of “man bashing” in this book; Myers respects the men in her life and those in power. She just thinks things could be nicer with more women leaders around the world.

What Would Be Different?

Here’s a humorous thought for you, courtesy Why Women Should Rule the World:

If the three wise men had been women, they would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts, and there would be Peace on Earth. (page 102)

Now, that sounds cliché: believe me when I say that Myers’ book goes beyond the cliché. In her memoir, Myers shows us why woman can and should be leaders.

And as a woman, I can certainly appreciate her message. I guess I never considered myself a “feminist” until I read this book: she’s put in to words what I’ve always believed about the abilities women inherently have, and I’m all the more proud to say “I am a woman.”

What do you think would be different if women had the power (now or in the past)?

*Myers is quick to point out that it’s not that she is like C.J. Cregg, the fictional presidential press secretary on The West Wing: C.J. Cregg is like Dee Dee Myers.  Since I was only a teenager when Myers was on C-Span and CNN, I admit that I am more familiar with the character C.J. Cregg than I am with Myers. I knew the name “Dee Dee Myers” only because she’d worked as a consultant for The West Wing and therefore she was in the “Special Interviews” section of the DVDs. Oops.

• Nonfiction Five Challenge
• Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return by Marjane Satrapi
• Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + Giveaway (Used Book)
• Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
• Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman by Richard Feynman
• Daughter of Destiny by Benazir Bhutto
• A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
• November Month in Review and December Reading Journal
• Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn
• Medea by Euripides

When I found Palestine, Joe Sacco’s journalistic report of the intifada circa 1992, I thought I’d experience another graphic novel, this time an account of a place I’ve lived. But the world Sacco explores is not the world I visited.

Sacco’s account focuses on the horrible conditions of the Palestinian refugees in Israel, the torture of the Isreali Defense Forces, and the reasons why the youth felt the need to rise up in rebellion in the intifada. While I can’t say I loved the blatant anti-Jewish slant of the book (which was to be expected), it was a fascinating experience to read it and I learned a lot that I hadn’t realized.

The Story

Palestine is horribly violent and painful to read. And yet, that is exactly Sacco’s purpose in writing it.

As a journalist, Joe Sacco went to Gaza and the West Bank looking for stories of pain and suffering. And he found it. The Palestinians were driven out of their homes in the 1960s, and 25 years later, they are still living in camps without paved roads, proper toilets, or roofs over their head. Their family members are jailed by Israel without being given a reason and tortured horribly because they won’t reveal the information that the soldiers want, information that they don’t actually know.

Reading Palestine made me very angry at Israel, a country that tends to get only positive press in the USA. That, again, was Sacco’s purpose. I don’t feel torture is acceptable in any circumstance: not in Guantanamo Bay by the CIA, not in Gaza by the IDF. Palestine made me angry at all governments that practice torture.

The Graphic Novel

As a graphic novel, Palestine is incredibly powerful. I really loved Sacco’s detailed and powerful illustrations, and having the story partly told via the pictures made it less painful – and yet more painful: he didn’t have to describe the torture methods because they were illustrated for me to see. My only previous experiences with graphic novels were The Complete Maus and Persepolis I and Persepolis II. This was different than those in that many pages didn’t have picture boxes of story action and dialog: often, Sacco drew a full page illustration with text boxes splattered throughout it. A few pages were all text; it was very text heavy. However, it was a perfect format for trying to capture the events, background, and despair prevalent.

My Thoughts

Since I spent time in Israel-Palestine 8 years ago, during the second intifada, I found familiar aspects in his story: for example, the young boys follow him, call him something in Arabic, and then throw stones at him; that happened to me on occasion as I walked to the Old City from where I lived. But there were differences too. Apparently the Old City didn’t feel very safe to many people; when I was there, I felt safe. I felt that the violence had ceased, although I did see tire burnings on occasion. (Ehud Barak was about to entered in to peace talks, talks which I predicted erupting in violence come September 2000 — they did). I certainly hope that there wasn’t torture occurring in prisons, but I wouldn’t have known if there was.

In the end of his report, Sacco wrote:

…that’s the thing about coming to the Holy Land or Palestine or Israel or whatever you want to call it … no one who know what he’s come here looking for leaves without having found it. (page 280)

I went to Jerusalem looking for holy sites and inspiring religious experiences. I found those. Sacco went, 8 years earlier, looking for Palestinian suffering. He found it. If you are looking for the beauty of Israel, you’ll find that too. It is beautiful land.

After reading Maus and other Holocaust literature, I feel sympathy to the Jewish plight. After reading Palestine, I feel sympathy to the Palestinian cause. What’s the answer to the Middle East question? Don’t even try to answer that; it’s far too complicated. Who knows?

Palestine is a painful graphic novel to read. Don’t expect a “comic.” There is nothing comical about the things Sacco experienced. But if you are interested in Middle Eastern affairs and curious about the plight of the Palestinians circa 1992, read Palestine and prepare to be horrified and enlightened.

Other Reviews:

• Bookoholic’s Boklista
• The True Confessions of a Book Lover Named M
  

If you have reviewed Palestine on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
• The Complete Maus: A Survivor’s Tale by Art Spiegelma
• Graphic Novels Challenge
• Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud
• Challenges, A Personal Challenge, and a Giveaway!
• Material World by Peter Menzel
• November Month in Review and December Reading Journal
• Lists and Challenges Updates
• Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return by Marjane Satrapi
• Friday (February) Finds: TBR Additions in February

Hated It

By Rebecca Reid of Rebecca Reads

I heartily disliked listening to the 800+ minute audiobook of Three Cups of Tea by David Oliver Relin.

To begin with, I disliked the horrible writing, which was full of extraneous details and parenthetical thoughts, as well as cheesy comparisons (“Mortenson sat on a boulder and drank from his water bottle until it was empty. But he couldn’t drink in enough of this setting.”). Or maybe my boredom stemmed from the never-ending tangents away from Greg’s Pakistan story (such as his girlfriend dumping him). Also, I disliked Three Cups of Tea because it read like a report, not a memoir. Despite Greg’s name on the cover, the story was in the third person. Recollections are told by a researcher (“he says, five years later” and “she says, her eyes filling with tears”). This journalistic approach to what could have been impressive made this story drier with each and every insignificant detail.

Ultimately, I disliked this book because of Greg Mortenson, who I failed to like for the beginning 600 minutes of narration. Yes, he was compassionate. But because he lacked common sense, to me he appeared to be a clueless loser with good luck.

In the early 1990s, middle-aged Greg worked part-time to save for climbing adventures. When Greg fails to summit K-2 and those in a remote village in Pakistan save his life, Greg promises to build them a school. In the USA, he lives in his car to save money. Not knowing how to use a computer or to fundraise the requisite $12,000, he typewrites letters to celebrities for months. Then he meets a wealthy scientist who not only funds Greg’s promised school but wills $1,000,000 to Greg in the form of a new Pakistan school-building humanitarian organization. But Greg is no business man: when funds get low, he chases possible donors across the USA, and his own employees quit because he disappears for weeks at a time without contact.

Back in Pakistan, Greg, who despite having funds still lacks common sense, does foolish things. For example, he buys building supplies before remembering he’d first need a bridge to get them to the village. In 1996, he was abducted by Taliban operatives because he traveled alone, despite advice not to. After 9/11, he goes to the Afghan border “just to see what will happen.” Despite his scatter-brained ways, he somehow succeeds in building schools, bridges, and women’s centers.

The story post-9/11 was slightly more interesting, and I learned much about Muslim-American relations from a new perspective.  Greg’s attempts to rekindle peace in Pakistan and Afghanistan were applaudable, and I stopped disliking him as much. However, there is subtle comparison of Greg to Mother Teresa, which I still felt was inappropriate.

Greg has compassion on the uneducated of Pakistan, and he does promote peace towards the Muslim world post-9/11. The children of Pakistan certainly do need an education. But personally, I found Greg’s story uninspiring overall because, despite his obviously compassionate heart, Greg mostly seemed to lack common sense.

Loved It

By Ellen Sorenson

Ellen Sorenson has a Ph.D. in English and she teaches middle school English. She also happens to be Rebecca’s mother.

Sometimes we read a book to enjoy the perfection of the language; sometimes we are enthralled by the intricacies of the plot; and sometimes we are inspired by a story that must be told.  Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin was, for me, such a story. I was reminded of a character in Alan Paton’s Cry the Beloved Country — a woman who, when thanked for her service responds, “what are we born for?”  Surely Greg Mortenson knows what he was born for.  Lost while climbing Pakistan’s treacherous K2, he wandered half-frozen into the remote village of Korphe, where the impoverished people nursed him back to health.  Whereas other climbers had visited the village and never returned, Mortenson was determined to keep his promise to build a school for the people who had saved his life.

It was a promise he was supremely ill-equipped to keep.  He was without adequate organizational skills, financial resources, or personal connections.  Yet he somehow managed to raise the necessary $12,000 in America, purchase materials in Islamabad, and transport them through corruption, bureaucracy, and bands of roving militants nearly as challenging as the poorly developed mountain roads he had to navigate.

His one school in Korphe has been followed by dozens of others, in addition to pipelines and wells to bring fresh water to villages, women’s workshops and community centers, and health education.  Education for girls is the single most important factor in reducing poverty, abuse, and child mortality in developing nations.  For the boys of Pakistan, it provides an alternative to the Taliban-sponsored madrasahs, where hatred and violence are served along with three meals a day.

According to Haji Ali, Village Chief of Korphe, in Pakistan, “[we] drink three cups of tea to do business; the first you are a stranger, the second you become a friend, and the third, you join our family.”  Reading Three Cups of Tea, I was reminded that I am a member of the human family.  And though I have not shared a cup of tea with the people of a distant land, perhaps I can share something.  Mortenson’s bridge to Korphe spanned more that the gorge beneath it; it spanned warring cultures, and his work suggests that perhaps the war on terror is not won by bullets, but rather by love, education, and a shared cup.  I was left to wonder, if Greg Mortenson, with his inept ways, can make a difference in the world, what can I do?

One group of American school children raised 62,345 pennies for Mortenson’s efforts.  That’s enough money to buy two or three nice ipods, or 5% of the cost of a school for the children of Pakistan.

It is a book worth reading.

Visit threecupsoftea.com, gregmortenson.com, the Central Asia Institute, and Pennies for Peace for more information on the book and how you can help in Pakistan.

What did you think of Three Cups of Tea?

Other Reviews:

• She Is Too Fond of Books
• Jackets and Covers
• Deliciously Clean Reads
• Some Reads
• BiblioHistoria
• 5-Squared
• The Bluestockings Society
• pressed down and shaken together

If you have reviewed Three Cups of Tea on your blog, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

ETA (February 27, 2009): Hey folks, I have closed comments on this string.

As with most books, Three Cups of Tea has proven to be a divisive book: many people like it and many people hate it. Many people recommend it as required reading because of it’s good message, while others can’t get past the first 100 pages for sheer boredom or disgust at the writing. This post, set up as a Counterpoint, attempted to illustrate the two points, and I think the comments have only turned my attempt to be balanced into an argument, which was never my purpose. I’m very sorry we could not just all be nice, especially while talking about a book about peace-making.

Please note that since I wrote this review in October, I have read dozens more books, some I liked a lot and some I haven’t liked at all. I’d love for you to share your thoughts on those books!

–Rebecca

• Listen to the Wind by Greg Mortenson and Susan L. Roth
• Daughter of Destiny by Benazir Bhutto
• Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell
• A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
• The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
• Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! by Laura Amy Schlitz

I was sitting in a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a Dumpster.

Jeannette Walls lives comfortably. She’s a married woman, a successful gossip reporter, and a strong individual. She knows what she wants out of life. And yet she has a secret.

Her parents live on the street.

Thus begins her powerful memoir of a childhood: The Glass Castle. Jeannette’s childhood is full of pain, but also love. Jeannette and her siblings rise to success despite their environment. Her story shows that love is almost enough to get by.

Jeannette’s first memory is when she is three years old: her dress is on fire as she cooks herself hot dogs. From that memory on, her family is constantly wandering, searching for comfort and safety together, a place where they can have a life. But despite their best intentions, Jeannette’s parents mess up. Her father cannot remain sober, and her mother cannot accept the responsibility for the four children she is expected to rear. The four Walls children raise themselves successfully, in dire poverty, despite the odds.

Jeannette’s childhood was full of neglect, hunger, poverty, unsanitary living conditions, and physical and sexual abuse. And yet she writes a memoir full of power. I don’t usually like memoirs, because I dislike the attitude of “pity me” the authors seem to expect of me. But Jeannette lacked a “woe is me” attitude in her memoir. She writes the facts and leaves it for us. She doesn’t feel sorry for herself, and she doesn’t expect me to either.

“The Glass Castle” refers to the castle Jeannette’s father promises to build her when he makes his fortune. He loves her and wants to provide for the family. She trusts him. And yet, it is evident that he will never be able to achieve his dreams for his family: he lacks the ability to actually succeed in anything as he retreats to the comfort of alcohol.

I found The Glass Castle eye-opening. I was shocked to see how a family in dire poverty lived in the modern era. I was shocked to learn the attitudes of Jeannette’s own family about their situation. I was disgusted by her parent’s actions and decisions, and yet I was amazed as Jeannette continued to love them unconditionally. Her story was painful and beautiful at the same time.

In an interview in 2005, Jeannette was asked what she wanted to change about her childhood. Her response blew me away:

I wouldn’t change anything. I don’t wish that anything had been different, but I don’t want to relive it. I don’t regret that I went through this experience because I ended up at a place that I’m happy with, so however I got there is fine by me. However, you could not pay me enough money to go through all that again, and I wouldn’t raise a child that way myself either, obviously.

Interviews with Jeannette Walls and Reviews of The Glass Castle

• MSN summary of The Glass Castle, with interview of Jeannette Walls
• The Gothamist interview with Jeannette Walls
• Interview with Conversations with Famous Writers book blog in 2005
• SmallWorld Reads

If you reviewed The Glass Castle on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

Blog Action Day 2008: Poverty

I read The Glass Castle a few months ago, before I began blogging about reading. I’m writing this review now in honor of Blog Action Day 2008. Poverty is the theme this year. (I found out about it rather late; otherwise, I would have told you sooner to join in.)

What can you do to take action against poverty, today?

Donate to the United Nations World Food Programme.

Think about what you have eaten today. Oatmeal for breakfast? A sandwich for lunch? A bag of potato chips? I suspect that if you’re reading this blog, you aren’t starving to death. And when I think about poverty, I think about hunger. While the World Food Programme is not specifically fighting poverty, it is fighting hunger. I feel donations help those who are in great need.

Now, I’m not rolling in wealth these days, but I’m going to copy Maw Books‘ wonderful idea of sponsoring via comments. I’ll donate 10 cents to World Food Programme for every (non-spam*) comment I receive on any post of Rebecca Reads today, October 15, 12:01 a.m. to 11:59 p.m. USA CDT for the rest of October. *”Non-spam” means a comment that relates to the post and doesn’t link to unrelated sites.

Alternatively, if you buy a book through my Amazon store anytime in October, I’ll donate all the proceeds I earn (which, I think, is 4%) to the World Food Programme. Every book that I review on Rebecca Reads (plus many more) is available at my Amazon store.

You could also fight poverty by finding another charity of your choice that is working to fight poverty and hunger. Let us know your preferred charity in the comments. There are so many out there.

Are you a book blog participating in Blog Action Day 2008? Leave a link in the comments and I’ll link to your post (as soon as I can). For all blogs (9,000+) participating thus far, click here.

• Out of the Blue
• 5 Minutes for Books
• Shauna Rumbling

• A Holiday Challenge Poll + Giveaway at Sophisticated Dorkines
• Castle Waiting by Linda Medley
• Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! by Laura Amy Schlitz
• Hippolytus by Euripides
• The Dangerous Alphabet by Neil Gaiman + Happy Halloween
• A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg
• Spooktacular Hachette Book Giveaway (USA) and Dracula Giveaway (non-USA)
• The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett
• Ingenuity and Authority: Who Really Wrote Aesop’s Fables?
• Stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne

I had never heard of Randy Pausch until he passed away on July 25, 2008. My husband was watching “The Last Lecture” via the Internet, and I saw a little of it. When I saw the book this week sitting on my mother’s coffee table, I picked it up. I couldn’t stop reading it.

Randy’s trials were incredibly challenging. In August 2007, just one month before he delivered his last lecture, he found out that his cancer was terminal; he had three-to-six months to live. Yet his optimism in the lecture and in his book reveal true passion for living.

I don’t know how not to have fun. I’m dying and I’m having fun. And I’m going to keep having fun every day I have left. Because there’s no other way to play it. (page 179)

Randy Pausch died nine months after he delivered his memorable lecture, three months longer than his diagnosis. His enthusiasm for life seems to have remained until the end of his life.

I’d highly recommend reading this best-seller, or at least watching his inspiring talk. Visit www.thelastlecture.org for more information about Randy Pausch, his lecture, and his Carnegie Mellon University virtual reality legacy. You can also find more information about helping fight pancreatic cancer.

If you found you had three-to-six months left to live, would you remain positive, even in the midst of the pain of chemotherapy? I don’t know how I would be. But most importantly, what would you share with your family and friends?

I don’t know how I would be. But I certainly hope I could reemphasize to my family the great things that we enjoy by being alive. That positive hope is the message I got from Randy Pausch.

• Wit by Margaret Edson

The Professor and the Madman is not primarily about the making of the dictionary. (For a comprehensive history of the Oxford English Dictionary’s genesis and early creation, I would suggest The Meaning of Everything, also by Simon Winchester, which I also enjoyed.) Rather, The Professor and the Madman is a dual-biography of two odd characters, how they came together, and how they were different. While Winchester argues that the story has two protagonists, I felt that William C. Minor was the actual protagonist of this story. This was his story: how, despite madness, he could be of inestimable use to the makers of the dictionary.

Minor’s story was fascinating, as he was mentally ill in a day when there was no treatment for it. However, I didn’t find myself drawn to his character, nor did I want to know too much about his madness. To me, the most interesting aspects of this biography were the details about the dictionary making, which I had already read about in The Meaning of Everything.

That said, I highly enjoyed listening to the audiobook, as the author is the narrator and does an excellent job both at writing a compelling account and at reading it. For those interested in the making of the OED but not interested in the detailed “hows” behind it, I’d recommend The Professor and the Madman, which is a personality-driven account of how it was done, rather than the detailed historical account found in The Meaning of Everything.

I want to thank Rose City Reader for her great overview of the works by Simon Winchester. Upon reading her review, I recalled how much I enjoyed listening to Winchester’s other books and I remembered that I owned the audiobook for The Professor and the Madman. (How I forgot that I had it is a long story.) I look forward to reading (or listening) to others of Winchester’s works. They are always interesting and well done.

When you read a history, do you prefer a personality driven account (like a biography) or a historical account? I tend to think I’d prefer a biography, but this is a case where I preferred the historical review more.

In addition to The Professor and the Madman, I’ve read Krakatoa and The Meaning of Everything.

Note: If you listen to the audiobook, make sure you listen beyond the acknowledgements. There is a very interesting interview with the current editor of the OED.

If you have reviewed The Professor and the Madman, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add your link to this post.

• Nonfiction Five Challenge
• Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts
• The Joy of Audiobooks
• The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa
• All the President’s Men by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward
• We by Yevgeny Zamyatin
• How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas Foster
• Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
• Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (translated by Simon Armitage)
• Author Weekly Geeks Answers

I picked up Stephen King’s memoir, On Writing, because it seems to be a commonly recommended book for aspiring writers. I’ve never read any Stephen King. I am not often drawn to best-selling authors. (By best-selling author, I mean an author who writes a book every year that ends up selling millions of copies.) I’ve heard of Stephen King, of course. Unfortunately, I found little in his memoir about writing that helps me in my personal craft. I think his memoir should have been named On Writing Best-Selling Horror Novels.

There were a few gems in On Writing, most of them obvious. For example, to improve your writing, you need to make the time to write. (King suggests a goal of words, like 4,000 a day: I think “quantity” as a standard is ridiculous.) He also discusses the need to read good writing (obviously) and learn grammar so you can actually write (doubly obvious). However, for me, the most inspiring thing I learned was the realization I had every time I picked up On Writing: I don’t want to be a best-selling author.

My General Thoughts about Writing and Books

I feel that there is a big difference between writing well and writing a story. A superior novel (or short story) needs both aspects: just because an author has created a great story and written it does not mean it is good writing. Also, I feel very strongly that quality is more important than quantity. An author can write one book and be a great author; an author can write 35 novels and be mediocre (although they certainly have a great imagination and a knack for turning out books for publication). I also feel intended audience and subject matter is important to keep in mind when approaching writing.

Stories and Writing: Many best-selling books are great stories, but not great writing. For example, I think the Harry Potter series is a great story. I am in awe of J.K. Rowling for having an imagination to conjure up such a world! I have read the series and I enjoyed it. However, I do not think J.K. Rowling is a good writer. Her writing is contrived and repetitive. (I may be unpopular among die-hard fans, but I believe it is true!) I feel many of the best-sellers also lack the good story element: they neither are good stories nor contain good writing. I read them sometimes, but I read them knowing that they are not great. Sometimes I may be pleasantly surprised.

Quantity and Quality: The more novels a popular writer publishes, and the more frequently those are being published, the less likely I am to read their books. There may be some gems, and I’d love to give those highly recommended gems a try, but overall, I can’t stand the thought of writing that has been produced in such a short time: can we really call that quality? For an analogy, I think “quality” writing is like risotto: I know I can’t rush risotto. If I do, the creaminess is missing; to produce good risotto, I must stir it constantly for 30-40 minutes. To produce good writing, I think it’s necessary to polish it again and again. (King has four drafts of each novel. Yeah.)

Audience and Subject Matter: Stephen King is obviously a horror novelist. I guess he has found his calling in life, but I found even the summaries of his novels disturbing. I have no desire to think outside the box if that is the result! I would never be proud of what I’ve written, if that is what I’ve produced. Even 35 novels worth; even for millions of dollars.

For me in my writing, I’ve determined that I want to write quality letters, stories, children’s poems, and prose. I especially want to write for my family, friends, and others whom I respect. As Stephen King described his methods to arriving at his “success,” I realized I have no desire to write the next best-seller.

The Main Reason I Didn’t Like On Writing

The biggest reason I have no respect for Stephen King’s advice in On Writing is this one comment (encapsulating the above issues):

I’ve written thirty-five [novels] … On the other hand … there is Harper Lee, who wrote only one book (the brilliant To Kill a Mockingbird) … [names other authors who wrote few books] … I always wonder two things about these folks: how long did it take them to write the books they did write, and what did they do the rest of their time? . . . I’m probably being snotty here, but I am also, believe me, honestly curious. If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it? (page 118)

Excuse me, Mr. King? Did you just compare your horror novels to Harper Lee’s novel? How dare you?!

I guess this goes back to the fact that I’m not drawn to best-sellers. I have the stereotype in my mind that best-sellers do not contain good writing and probably lack good stories. Stephen King thinks he is being snotty, but I found it painful to read his comparison of his 35 horror novels to a masterpiece like To Kill a Mockingbird.

Obviously, some best-sellers are well-written and come to be considered “masterpieces.” I’m generalizing here. However, best-sellers, in my mind, are nothing compared to real writing. In Stephen King’s case, I’m sure he may be a creative (yet disturbed) story teller, but he is not a good writer (in my definitions). With that one paragraph, I lost the little bit of respect I still held for him. He thinks he writes like Harper Lee!

I may offend people. More likely, you will think I’m being “snotty,” just like Stephen King claims he was being “snotty” to criticize Harper Lee for writing only one book. But this is what I’ve learned from Stephen King’s On Writing: popular, best-selling authors think they are also good writers. That may be true sometimes, but generally, I don’t believe it.

What do you think? Do you expect “best-sellers,” in general, to contain “good writing”? Is an author a “good writer” if they have published dozens of novels?

By reading On Writing, I learned that if I want to write and I want ideas on how to write, I should read authors I respect. I hold no respect for Stephen King, 35 horror novels or not.

Have any good writers compiled their thoughts on writing? No, probably not. They have better things to do.

I was more inspired to write a few months ago when I read a masterpiece. I guess I’ll stick to reading masterpieces for my inspiration.

Other reviews (from those who probably liked it more than I did):

• 5-Squared (Amanda)
  

If you have reviewed On Writing, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add your link to this post.

• What Are Banned Books? (Do I Favor Book Banning?)
• Golden Legacy by Leonard Marcus
• The End of Publishing?
• Will in the World by Stephen Greenblatt
• Stories by Guy de Maupassant (Introductory Thoughts)
• A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L’Engle
• Stories by Edgar Allan Poe
• The Beekeeper’s Apprentice by Laurie King
• The Student by Anton Chekhov: A Perfect Short Story
• To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

In a break-through way, he tells this story in the form of a graphic novel. I was amazed not just with how approachable this made the horrible story of the Holocaust, but also with how appropriate it was. The story of the Holocaust is not an easy story to tell. By telling his father’s story from the perspective of a son watching his father and via a graphic medium, Spiegelman captured the effects of the events on his father. As a reader, I could see the aftermath of the story because Spiegelman had captured the emotions in the illustrations. The Complete Maus is an essential story in the body of work about the Holocaust and rightly deserves the special Pulitzer Prize awarded it in 1992. It is a book anyone, even those who don’t consider themselves readers, can approach to learn about the Holocaust.

Maus I: My Father Bleeds History

In Maus I, Spiegelman approaches his father Vladek to learn the story of how he met his mother Anja and how they survived in Poland in the early years of the World War II. Interspersed through Vladek’s story is the modern-day struggles Vladek faces with his second wife, Mala. At first, I was frustrated by the presence of people not associated with the historic story. Why not tell the entire story from the perspective of the past? However, I realized that seeing Vladek’s reactions to modern events helped me to see how his past is still his present: he cannot forget the war. Despite the fact that he wants to set the past behind him, he is still untrusting of people and frugal. He is still suffering, still “bleeding” history.

What struck me most about the Jews in Poland in 1938-1944, particularly Vladek and Anja, was that the only reason they survived thus far was because they were lying, stealing, and cheating, besides the fact that they still had some money to pay people for help. Vladek put himself and his wife before everything: that was the way to survive. It was shocking to realize how little mercy others had for them. While some were willing to risk their lives to help the Jews, it was shocking how little chance the Jews had to live. The Nazis, in general, showed no mercy.

Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began

Maus II continues the story of Vladek and his wife, now sent to Auschwitz, and it continued the story of Spiegelman as he faces his father’s life story, now in the wake of his father’s death. Spiegelman (the graphic novel author) feels guilty not just because his father survived Auschwitz but because others want to exploit it, because he never suffered as his father has, and because he will never really understand what suffering is. It is emotional, with that introduction, to read the story of Vladek and Anja’s 10 months in Auschwitz, again trying to find an advantage so that they can survive, despite the odds.

The Complete Maus: A Survivor’s Tale

What stood out to me in these two volumes of history is that the graphic novel format is a griping way to tell a story. It showed me, again, that this is medium that needs to be embraced.

Spiegelman does not want his graphic novel turned in to a movie. I would agree: a movie of this story would be too harsh and too insensitive. A wordy memoir also would be too “heavy”: I love to read, but I couldn’t read a memoir like this because it would be too much, too depressing, and too detailed. But a graphic novel medium is perfect. In Maus, we learn about the Holocaust but we also learn about the effect of the Holocaust on subsequent generations. And it is very readable: for the legions of people in the world that don’t “like” to read, this is something that they could easily approach, painful as the story may be. That said, I was greatly disturbed the story (as should be expected) and I wouldn’t recommend this for children.

The Holocaust happened: the world needs to know story. Maus is an excellent approach to it.

I read Maus I and Maus II at the same time, in one volume called The Complete Maus. They were originally published in 1986 and 1991. I cannot comprehend separating these two stories; they seemed to be one. Did you read these at different times? How did that affect your reading of the story? Did you feel something was missing after the first one?

Other reviews:

• things mean a lot
• Thoughts of Joy Maus I and Maus II
• nothing of importance (my everyday blog)
• The Hidden Side of a Leaf

If you have reviewed The Complete Maus (Maus I or Maus II or both), leave a link in the comments and I’ll add your link to this post.

• Bookworms Carnival: Relationships
• Palestine by Joe Sacco
• Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud
• Graphic Novels Challenge
• Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
• Lists and Challenges Updates
• Beauty and the Beast + The Complete Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault
• Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return by Marjane Satrapi
• The Complete Tales of Beatrix Potter
• Challenges, A Personal Challenge, and a Giveaway!

Katharine Graham was born to great privilege. Such a statement, however, cannot even begin to encapsulate the spoiled upbringing this woman enjoyed. As I read about her financially privileged birth, I wondered how I could like such a “spoiled brat.” However, Katharine Graham’s life illustrates that monetary security does not guarantee happiness, security, love, health, or an easy life. She grew just as anyone grows.

When Katharine was a 17-year-old boarding school student in suburban Washington, D.C., and the country was in the midst of the Great Depression (1933), her father bought The Washington Post Company (the fifth of five city newspapers and a pitiful, failing wreck) for $825,000. From then on, her life centered on The Washington Post.

At first, Katharine’s involvement with the Post is observational: she studies journalism in college while her father strives make a profit running the newspaper; she marries and her husband, Phil, inherits the newspaper while she raises her children; she remains socially aloof while striving to find a place in society; she aids her husband while he struggles through mental illness. But on her husband’s death in 1963, Katharine Graham becomes the head of the Post and everything in her life changes.

Katharine Graham’s life seems full of contrasts and similarities, any one of which could be an essay by itself:

• Insecure child longing for love versus Insecure wife searching for acceptance
• Doting wife to loving husband versus Supportive wife to mentally ill husband
• Submissive wife (1950s) versus Widowed feminist (1970s)
• Full-time mother (albeit with a nanny) versus Full-time publisher of a growing newspaper
• Insecure publisher (1960s) versus Confident publisher (late 1970s)
• Shy woman versus Outspoken socialite

Within all of these contrasts and similarities are some common themes in Katharine Graham’s life:

• A personal look at women’s changing roles, 1930-1990

Katharine was a women publisher to a large-city USA newspaper in 1963; she was considered a powerful woman. Although Katharine was a bit slow to grasp the concepts of the feminist movement, her careful insights into her own behavior reveal much about the attitudes of the time.

• A personal look at bipolar disorder, its effect on family and friends, and treatment (or lack thereof) in the 1950s and 1960s.

Katharine Graham’s husband suffered from a debilitating bipolar disorder; Katharine’s look at her relationship with him reflects a lot of understanding, unfortunately too late to help Phil Graham. I was amazed at the lack of understanding and the inept attempts to try to help him. What a tragedy that proper help wasn’t to be found!

• A personal look at publishing a daily newspaper, The Washington Post, Watergate, and the printing union strike of the 1970s

Katharine’s life revolves around The Washington Post Company in every way, especially after her husband’s death and her assumption as president and publisher of the company. During the unfolding of Watergate, she or the newspaper were getting threats from the Nixon White House on a daily basis. In addition, while one might have thought that The Washington Post was a well established paper when Watergate happened, it wasn’t. In 1974, after Watergate, the printer’s union went on strike, and The Washington Post could have easily folded. Instead, Katharine Graham learned how to run the presses, and the paper got out every day during the nearly six-month strike. Grahams’ ability to save the paper, despite the pressures, was incredible.

Katharine Graham led an interesting life of contrasts. While I worried her rich childhood meant she had a spoiled, sheltered life, I was surprised by her character and development even during the seemingly insurmountable challenges. Hers was the story of a human.

Katharine Graham’s Personal History is a perfect example of a biography and of an autobiography, and it certainly deserved the Pulitzer Prize for biography in 1998. I loved reading this book.

As Katharine reviews her own life, she reveals much about the times in which she lived and the developments that society faced. I learned not just about Katharine Graham but about politics and political figures, publishing and journalism, travel, the life of the rich, history, culture, and the changing face of humankind over time.

To close her review of her life, Katharine wrote:

It’s dangerous when you are older to start living in the past. Now that it’s out of my system, I intend to live in the present, looking forward to the future.

What a lovely sentiment on her own life. She died four years after writing her story, at age 83.

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