Book Fifty-One: Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman (and 51B: A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conon Doyle)

Einstein is often described as much as an artist as he is a scientist. His picture adorns the walls of many college students, quotes show up in a range of contexts, and most people seem to know some unusual fact about this unique and brilliant man. But what drives his work, especially as it relates to time?

Physicist Alan Lightman plays with this question in Einstein's Dreams, his 1992 "novel" centered around Einstein's dreams as he works on his theory of time. Of course, we do not know what Einstein dreams, so Lightman imagines the different scenarios we can play out with the concept of time.

The book is split into 30 short chapters each exploring a different concept of time (see below for the full listing). They are tied loosely together by "Interludes" where Einstein interacts with Michele Besso, a real life friend of Einstein. I put "novel" in quotation marks since this book raises the issues of what constitutes a novel, although I'm not going to explore that at this time. While the general concept ties this book together, this is more a collection of short explorations on time and its possibilities. 

Many of these are interesting, but Lightman stops at raising ideas without exploring the outcome. Where this book could work best is for aspiring writers who want an idea to build on. For example, in "20 May 1905" he envisions a world without memory. People create life books in order to write down what happens so they can "remember" the next day. On the one hand there is the challenge of remembering what address you live at (and thus they write it down), yet you also get to experience your first encounter with your husband or wife as new every night. Lightman does this throughout, showing how time does impact our existence in every way.

In "11 June 1905" he explores what is in some ways the opposite, a life in which people cannot conceive of a future. From the simplicity of a man watching a storm approaching, but cannot fathom that it will rain (since that is the future), to a scene of two men embracing goodbye over and over since they cannot imagine seeing one another again. Lightman raises the issue of how does what we think about the future impact the present.

Apparently this book is popular in universities, and it is easy to see why. The book raises questions which lead to discussion, although he himself fails to explore the issues. If you want a classic "dorm room midnight discussion," just grab this book and read a quick chapter aloud. Professors can sit back and let students discuss the possibilities in class with little more direction -- that is where the book succeeds.

But on its own the book does not offer enough. Lightman could have made this book stronger by covering less, but in more detail. Borges and Saramago take similar themes and give them more consideration, and as a result offer more to the reader. But if you wish to have questions to ponder and need something to start the thinking, Lightman's book is the answer.

Lightman himself sounds like an interesting person. He is a novelist, essayist, physicist, and educator. In addition to his writing, he is the Adjunct Professor of Humanities at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He has written nearly 18 books, and they split between literature (fiction/poetry), science, and essays. Einstein's Dreams was his first novel and it received a great deal of praise, despite my somewhat tempered reaction. It would be interesting to see where his later work has led him.


You can read more about him at his website.

Here is a snyposis of all the chapters as explained on an academic website:

See full information here


14 April 1905 (8)

Time is a circle; individual experience endlessly repeats itself

16 April 1905 (13)

Time is like a flow of water, sometimes moving backward

19 April 1905 (18)

Time has three dimensions; each act has three possible outcomes

24 April 1905 (23)

There are two times, mechanical and body

26 April 1905 (28)

Time flows more slowly the farther one is from the center of the earth

28 April 1905 (33)

Time is absolute, an infinite ruler

3 May 1905 (38)

Cause and effect are erratic; at times effect precedes cause

4 May 1905 (43)

Time passes, but little happens

8 May 1905 (55)

Time is captured in its last moments, the end of the world

10 May 1905 (61)

Those trapped in time are alone, and no one is happy

11 May 1905 (66)

The passage of time brings increasing order

14 May 1905 (70)

Time stands still

15 May 1905 (75)

There is no time; there are only images

20 May 1905 (80)

People have no memories

22 May 1905 (85)

The world is a world of changed plans, leaving many things incomplete

29 May 1905 (90)

Time passes slowly for people in motion, thus everything moves

2 June 1905 (102)

Time flows backward

3 June 1905 (107)

People live just one day, but that day may be an eternity

5 June 1905 (112)

Time is a sense like taste

9 June 1905 (117)

People live forever, dividing into two populations: Laters and Nows

10 June 1905 (123)

Time cannot be measured; it is a quality

11 June 1905 (128)

There is no future; time is a line that terminates at the present

15 June 1905 (133)

Time is visible; one can step into the future or remain in the present

17 June 1905 (138)

Time is discontinuous, containing gaps and pauses

18 June 1905 (148)

There is a Great Clock in the Temple of Time

20 June 1905 (153)

Time is local; clocks separated by distance tick at different rates

22 June 1905 (159)

Time is rigid; every action and thought is determined

25 June 1905 (163)

Time and event may be copied infinitely with different futures

27 June 1905 (167)

In a world of shifting pasts, the past may be firm or forgotten

28 June 1905 (172)

Time is a nightingale, fluttering and flying, pursued by those who would stop time in a bell jar.

A Study In Scarlet

My revisiting of the Sherlock Holmes canon goes to the beginning with A Study in Scarlet, which features the immortal greeting of Holmes to Watson ("You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive") and the beginning of a long relationship between two friends. It is interesting to note that the 1887 appearance of this short novel did not exactly capture the public's attention. The next novel, which I'm about to start, is The Sign of Four and that one did not do much better. The interest arose with the short stories, of which the initial ones were later pulled together in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which I reviewed last week.


A Study in Scarlet is interesting on many levels. The most striking part of it is the fact nearly a third of the book does not involve Holmes or Watson, instead focusing on a father and his adopted daughter who meet up with Brigham Young and the Mormons in the American West. An entire story builds in this section which includes Doyle's somewhat patronizing and stereotypic portrayal of American Indians, and the Mormons take a strong beating (in fact, quite literally). When I was younger and reading these stories all the time I began skipping that section, but this time I really paid attention and it shows that Doyle can create a suspenseful plot line, which he often fails to do in some of the stories. The dialogue is at times contrived and sentimental, but considering the time it was written this is not shocking.

Holmes comes off how I best like him: intelligent, self-absorbed, egotistical, and rude. Okay, not a recipe for a friend, but what excels here is his honesty. His is smarter than most so why not say it? I'm sure some Sherlockian literature in the recent past has tied his behavior to Asperger's Syndrome, and that would be interesting to read. He seems to clearly deal with Aspergers; it is what also allows him to focus so completely on a matter at hand.

What surprised me a few times was the mention of him being young. Watson is by now a doctor with time in Afghanistan and is likely around 30, so Holmes may be in his late 20s. Of course, reading this as a child I would see that as ancient, but as an old man now I see his youth for being just that -- youth. As the stories grow so does his age, and there is a maturing of the young, brash detective in the later works.


Next Up

The final week approaches and I end my project with Jane Austen's first novel, Sense and Sensibility.

Book Fifty: Celestial Navigation by Anne Tyler (and 50B: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

I finally make it to Anne Tyler, one of my favorite writers who does not get the critical support she deserves. Okay, so she has a Pulitzer and National Book Critics Award for The Accidental Tourist (an excellent book), but she has many other novels which deserve attention. 

Tyler's most recognizable feature is her unique characters. To say many of her characters are off center is being polite. Many are just plain strange, but almost always in an appealing way. Tyler loves people, especially those who choose to approach life with their own unique view despite what society tells them. She is not naive about people, and the eternally unhappy person usually makes an appearance, but it is the strange and wonderful which capture her attention.

Celestial Navigation is Tyler's 5th novel, published in 1974 -- long before praise started coming her way. It focuses on Jeremy, a 38-year-old bachelor who has lived with his mother while rarely leaving their house. At the outset we find the mother has died and Jeremy's sisters enter the picture. The mother had turned their house into a boarding house, so Jeremy has company, but over the years he strays less and less from home until he is nearly confined inside. He is an artist with a studio on the top floor, and although at times he is a teacher to some budding artist, his detached and strange ways usually finds them leaving.

In the midst of all the changes comes Mary. She has left her husband and moved to Baltimore with her daughter to be with her new lover, but that eventually ends. Jeremy, much to his surprise, falls in love. Despite his strange ways and unattractive appearance (and Tyler excels in this description), she falls for him as well. In one of my favorite lines, after she tells him no to his marriage proposal, he shocks with the casual line: "What hope do you have for a better life, if you keep on saying no to everything new?"

They have a brood of children and Jeremy begins to make small excursions out and becomes successful as an artist. But now that he has Mary and all he wants, he finds himself drifting once again. The title refers to how Jeremy gets through life, by following his path in the heavens. He steers by a force unseen by others and unknown to him, but it is a path nonetheless.

Tyler writes the book from the perspectives of many characters. Only when doing it from Jeremy's perspective do we get more of a 3rd person narrative. This inconsistency would get Tyler bad marks in a creative writing program, but it works because Jeremy lacks the self consciousness of other people. Tyler takes us through 13 years of his life and we see people sail in and out of his life, but he continues on as before. Characters like Jeremy serve well to make us reexamine our own choices, but Tyler does not use them as foils for our own self interest. Her unique people are to be accepted and even treasured for who they are individually. 

Where Tyler is sometimes criticized is for romanticizing characters and lives (okay, she is also criticized for not having much in the way of sex in her books, but I always thought that was a stupid thing to say about anyone). But Tyler is not romantic about her characters, as this novel will show you, although she is hopeful for them. If that constitutes a weak writer, I hope she continues losing strength!

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

This is a great collection of stories which I've read many times since I discovered Sherlock Holmes in 5th grade. I actually read another collection first, but this is the first collection of short stories and one most people are familiar with. I've not read all of them together in quite some time and I certainly have a new eye. At times I was frustrated by Doyle's failure to bring clear closure to a story, and some hardly seemed mysteries at all. However, Holmes is as difficult as ever as a person, which makes him all the more interesting. He does some things for show early on, but his love of deduction is what really drives him. These are well worth the read.

Just for my own fun here is my ranking of the stories (Holmes fans are always ranking stories!).

1)"The Adventure of the Speckled Band"

2)"The Adventure of the Red-Headed League"

3)"A Scandal in Bohemia"

4)"The Boscombe Valley Mystery"

5)"The Five Orange Pips"

6)"The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet"

7)"The Man with the Twisted Lip" 

8)"A Case of Identity"

9)"The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle"

10)"The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb"

11)"The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor"

12)"The Adventure of the Copper Beeches"

This will probably change next time. Usually Red-Headed League tops the list.

Up Next 

So close! Just two more weeks to reach my goal. As I said before, Jane Austen gets the final week. But for next week, my busiest week of the year in which I dare not fail in my goal when so close to the end. A friend of mine (who recommended an earlier book) suggested Alan Lightman's Einstein's Dreams as a short, but not light book. My eldest also warned me that it is not a quick read, but I take heart that I'll manage.

Book Forty-Nine: All the Names by Jose Saramago

If you follow my blog, you'll know I'm open to changing my mind. Such is the case this week when I decided I liked Saramago's book from last week so much, I would try another one. So this week I moved on to All the Names, which features an excellent cover (and no, you can't judge a book by its cover, but then again...).

I am again impressed by Saramago's work and will make a point of reading more of his work. In this novel we follow Senor Jose, a clerk at the Central Registry (where all births, marriages, and deaths are noted) who suddenly decides to track down a woman whose card of information strikes him for some reason. The search takes this lonely 50-something man into terrain for which he is not prepared, yet he continually finds newfound courage with every step.

Saramago's setting is unidentifiable in terms of place, time, or even reality. There is an otherworldly feel to the story, and even the Central Registry is out of touch with its own time. We know there are answering machines and cars, but the Central Registry has one phone and everything is written down by hand. The description of the Registry is fascinating in its description of order without reason, creating a head person (the Registrar) who is almost godlike in his existence.  Saramago creates an atmosphere which is dark, oppressive, and ruled by fear. This setting makes the end of the novel (which I will not reveal) even more surprising.

Have recently read Borges and reaching back in time to Kafka, there are clear echoes of both of these writers. The mystical and the absurd colliding to cast a light on our existence, depressing as it may be. In the end I cannot say "what this book is about," but I will doubtless be pondering it for sometime.

In my last blog I mentioned Saramago's writing style, which appears here as well. I found the following description of his writing in a NY Times article which sums it up well:

Saramago’s most distinctive trademark is his punctuation, or rather the lack of it. His fictions are constructed in run-on sentences disrupted by only commas, a flood of prose in which narrative observation, individuals’ thoughts and dialogue go unmarked. In addition, many of his books refer to one another, and all the characters talk exactly alike, giving their conversations the feel of an internal monologue. It is as if a continuous reel of a silent film were being projected in a movie theater that is empty save for one extremely garrulous spectator. 

You can read the Article in The New York Times if you want more, or even read their review of the book in question here:New York Times Book Review of All the Names

Saramago himself seems to be an interesting character. He starting writing late in life (his late 50s) and is a committed communist and atheist who may be one of five people left in the world thinking Stalin had the right idea. He is described as hard to like, but apparently is hard to stop talking to once he starts.

Between the two I still go with Death with Interruptions, but also recommend this work as well.

Next Up

Okay, I really don't know. Three weeks left and the last two are figured out. I'll just have to surprise you next week.

Book Forty-Five: The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by James Martin, SJ (and 45B: Walter Mosley's Fortunate Son) and (45C:Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime)

 

Note: First, hope you enjoy the new layout. Second, I'm updating my reading blog and Goodreads info. on Facebook as well.

Religious, and specifically Christian, books can be a challenging lot. On the one hand there are plenty of great theological texts to read (Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Rahner, Barth, etc), but suffice it to say they are not the type of book you curl up with at the end of the day. On the other hand, there are too many "Christian-lite" books (I'll be nice and not name names) which touch on Christian themes, but lack the depth to really challenge the faithful.

With his rather bold title, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, James Martin, SJ looks like he would fall in the latter category. But happily, what we find here is a treatment of the Christian faith (through a Jesuit lens) which is not difficult to digest, but will challenge the reader to reexamine their stance toward faith. This is not just wordplay when I say "stance toward faith." Martin honestly and respectfully engages readers who may be atheists or agnostics, as well as any Christian still examining their faith. He does note that much of what he offers from his Jesuit life could be adopted by non-Christians. But give Martin credit for not being embarrassed of his faith and making a strong case for Christianity.

Martin acknowledges his own wordplay when he addresses his title. "It's not a guide to understanding everything about everything (thus the Almost). Rather, it's a guide to discovering how God can be found in every dimension of your life." The essence of the book is that every aspect of your life is spiritual -- faith is not just concerned with your thoughts on God, but what you say in those emails to a coworker. This is the first of four definitions that comes from Jesuit spirituality, namely, that everything in your life is important. The second idea is "contemplative in action," in which Martin outlines how a contemplative life translates into an active life. This theme plays a major role throughout the book as Martin explores how those of us who are not Jesuits can still actively incorporate spirituality into our lives. Third, not only is everything important, but God can be found everywhere. This carries the theological phrase of incarnational spirituality, but the idea is simple. Finally, many readers may be surprised to hear that people who pledge obedience see their spiritual life as one of freedom and detachment from distracting influences as opposed to a set of rules to follow.

Martin spends a great deal of time looking at the role of prayer in our lives. Again he is not afraid to challenge, as he does with the conventional excuse of "busyness," when it comes to why we find prayer challenging. One of Martin's strengths is that he understands the challenges of the working world. He came to his own faith decisions after a, ahem, active collegiate experience and after having a successful business career. He knows what many people deal with daily, and although not the head of a family, he understands the stresses the life of a parent has to contend with in addition to finding prayer time. But he points out that all relationships need nurturing, and our relationship with God is no different.

He offers several options, but his focus on "The Examen" is the most enlightening. This Jesuit prayer is central to the Jesuit way of life. Created by the Jesuit founder, St. Ignatius Loyola (and Jesuit spirituality is often called Ignatian spirituality), this prayer takes a person through five steps at the end of the day. The prayer focuses on the course of the day. In Martin's version (and we learn throughout that Jesuits are a pretty flexible lot on faith issues) we start with gratitude for what went well, and then review all actions of the day. When we recall events we are sorry for we have reached the third step, which leads naturally to seeking forgiveness, step four. Finally, we seek God's grace for the coming day.

Simple as it sounds, and it is simple, the prayer reinforces that idea of all aspects of your life are important to God. All our actions should reflect our faith, and when we fail, we should seek to remedy our wrongs. Regardless of one's faith inclination, a thorough review of the day and an accounting for one's actions is bound to create opportunities to move forward.

Martin's explanations of the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty are enlightening in not only understanding what those vows mean, but what they have to do with the rest of us. No, he is not promoting worldwide chastity in the normal sense, but he does argue that loving chastely lets those even in sexual relationships realize there are many ways to express love. In a sex-obsessed culture, this rather obvious line of thinking is desperately needed. 

This is how Martin works throughout the book. He explains how Jesuit's think and why, and then looks to tie it in with everyday life for the non-Jesuits of the world. While it sounds simple, it is challenging in both content and translation to life. If you just want an easy "feel good" book or "10 steps to live like a Jesuit," look elsewhere. If you want to think about faith and how it underlies your life, this is the place to start. But not to worry, Martin does all this with a sense of humor. He knows when some thinking sounds funny, and he points it out. He loves to tell Jesuit jokes, almost always at the expense of Jesuits, and the book is filled with real-life stories to illustrate his points. How often do you get to read a priest talk about being overwhelmed by sexual obsession just weeks before ordination? Martin does, and he spares himself little in the telling of tales. But his honesty and humor make all this thinking that more fun. And after all, if we cannot enjoy our faith, we must be missing something.

Martin also keeps a friendly, informative Facebook page where you can read about his other comments on life.

I dedicate this week's blog to my daughter who just accepted a placement to volunteer for one year through the Jesuit Volunteer Corp. I'm proud of her! Now she has to read this book.

Walter Mosley's Fortunate Son

Mosley is at times a "guilty" read, but often just a well written story. Fortunate Son falls more under the "waste of time." I've enjoyed Mosley's past forays into non-mystery writing, but this one was stretched with unbelievable characters who hint at more but never deliver. Read something else by him.

Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime 

I read this again for class. My review of it was in November.

Next Up

On the lighter side I'm reading "The Lightening Thief," a young adult novel now made into a movie. My 10-year-old read it and liked it. He wants me to read before we head off for the movie version, so I'm getting into it now. Quite enjoyable! My "real" book will be another by Mohsin Hamid called The Reluctant Fundamentalist.

Book Forty-Four: Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser

I understand the temptation. The food is cheap, tastes good, is ready on the fly, and fills you up. Eric Schlosser gets it too -- he loves the fries. But after reading Fast Food Nation you'll never look at the golden arches the same way again. That may be a good thing.

If this was just a book telling you how horrible fast food restaurants are to people, it would have disappeared shortly after its 2001 publication. But it became a New York Times Bestseller and was even turned into a film because Schlosser goes beyond mere name calling. In fact, one of my favorite lines comes at the end of the book. "The executives who run the fast food industry are not bad men. They are business men. They will sell free-range, organic, grass-fed hamburgers if you demand it." In other words, while he documents the overwhelming marketing pressure created by these companies (especially towards children), he also notes we have a say. 

Schlosser is a journalist and he has done his research (the book includes nearly 60 pages of supporting notes), but he is not looking for the headline. There is no single culprit, no single problem, and no single solution. The book takes on not simply fast food, but the culture of fast food in the U.S. and how we have exported it around the world. At times the chapters start in an area which seem to have nothing to do with food, but it always ties into the the food industry. The group taking the biggest hit is the meat industry, and forget McDonalds, you'll never look at the hamburger on your own grill the same way anymore.

Schlosser takes on marketing tatics, meat processing techniques, cattle feeding methods, use of legal and illegal migrants, workplace safety, OSHA standards, FDA standards, USDA standards, school lunches, congressional acts, presidential appointments, franchise operations and contracts, and grass-fed beef. He travels to the restaurants, the factories, the fields around the U.S., to the McDonald's near Dachau concentration camp in Germany, and talks about fast food around the world. He covers so much information that it is clear that this is not some mass conspiracy whipped up in a smoky backroom, but instead the worst case scenario for capitalism which forgets the reason we support it -- for people.

I could offer many stomach turning anecdotes, although to do so would not only just turn you off (ask my family), but would miss Schlosser's point. He did not write this as a "gross out" bestseller, and he gets disgusting only when necessary. Unfortunately, his simply telling of facts is disgusting enough. Tie all this into our increasing obesity issues, which can be clearly tied to our increase in eating fast food (just check nutrition facts at McDonalds or Burger King), and you can see something should be done. Schlosser ends his book with some quick recommendations and I only wish he would have spent more time here. But the one basic one is to ban fast food advertising aimed at children. We banned cigarette advertising and saw a huge decline in smoking. We regulate alcohol advertising because of health issues. Yet food aimed at kids which give them all the calories they need for a day in one meal is allowed? And we wonder why kids are obese? Sure, we need to get kids moving more, but take the low-hanging fruit here and cut back on what kids are told to eat.

One of the best parts of the book is the afterword in which Schlosser quotes the bad reviews which met the original edition. He notes that while the industry and those related to it have called the book nothing but lies, none of them have offered a single refutation of any of the facts he relates. That should give anyone pause to wonder. I'm avoiding details because there are too many, but suffice it to say the book is required reading for anyone who eats. You can still eat whatever you want, but at least you'll be informed about what you are eating.

Oh, and the fries taste good because they were fried in beef tallow -- the Hindus and vegetarians were not pleased to learn that. 

Next Up
Going a different direction as I read a new book about Jesuit life in the everyday world. A friend of mine is a Jesuit priest and my daughter has just signed on to volunteer for a year through the Jesuit Volunteer Corp, so this seems timely. Plus, I have not reviewed anything for Blogcritics lately so I should do that.

Book Forty-Three: A Lost Lady by Willa Cather and (43B-Food Rules by Michael Pollan) and (43C--Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar)

Yes, I have three books to report on this week, but do not be too impressed. Cather's novel is short, although I'll admit to reading her prose slowly because it is worth the time. Pollan's book is very short and intended to be a quick read. The fairies book has been my bedtime book the last few weeks, although I plowed through it this week just to get it over with (guess what my thoughts are on this one).

A Lost Lady

Willa Cather's work always fascinates me thanks to Mrs. Pepoy's introduction of her to my first-year college writing class through the classic O Pioneers! Both her novels and short stories are strong, but the short novel, A Lost Lady, had sat on my bookshelf too long.

It is a novel which brings in the familiar Cather themes of old vs. new, stagnation vs. growth, and to stretch the idea a bit, love vs. loyalty. Cather published the work in 1923 and in it we see a move away from the pioneers of My Antonia and O Pioneers! as the modern world makes itself felt on the Western expansion. As a result, the idyllic but harsh pioneer life Cather lived and captured are falling away.

The novel centers around Niel Pommeroy, a young boy living with his lawyer uncle in a small railroading town. The object of much of his attention is Mrs. Forrester, the young wife of a older man who has made a comfortable living based on his railroad work. As a growing boy Niel admires the Mrs. Forrester for her elegance, her ease with people, and her promise of something greater than the town. But like most railroad towns, the modern world begins to leave it behind and their social decline is mirrored with Mr. Forrester's financial decline. Niel is close to the childless couple and even takes a year off of college to help care for the ailing husband. The grim future is represented by Ivy Peters, a cruel kid who becomes (you guessed it) a cheating lawyer. He eventually buys up parts of the town including parts of the Forrester estate, and after the death of Mr. Forrester he takes a least temporary possession of Mrs. Forrester.

Niel's dedication to Mrs. Forrester is often described as a love interest by many critics, but I think that misses the point. He loves her, but not as a woman so much as an idea. She represents for Niel possibilities: passion for life, a wider world of experience, self confidence, and elegance not seen in a rural town. Even when he discovers she is having an affair he manages to overlook the reality which denies the possibilities. Only when he sees Ivy groping her in the kitchen does his idealism disappear, although his fondness for her does not since he is still in love with possibilities. What is interesting is that Mrs. Forrester never loses the appearance of these possibilities. She moves beyond Ivy Peters to settle comfortably in Buenos Aires as the wife of a rich Englishman. What Cather shows in that quick end stroke is the facade such possibilities often exist upon. Her life in rural Nebraska and her own struggles with her sexuality doubtless left her with little patience for anything less than reality.

Food Rules

Michael Pollan is a leading voice in making us think about what we eat, how we eat, and how our food is created/produced.  His books, The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, (both on my short list) have become the bibles for people concerned about our food. Food Rules is like a "Dummy's Guide" to how to eat for the rest of us. The book contains 64 rules, most no more than a short page long, which are split into three categories: What Should I Eat, What Kind of Food Should I Eat, and How Should I Eat.

Pollan clearly expects you to take to some rules more than others, and he is quick to point out that much of what he says is common wisdom. Given our current state of food production and our health issues, I'm not sure the wisdom is too common anymore. The first two parts are what you would expect -- eat real (not processed food), eat more greens, eat meat less often and make sure it is healthy, and don't buy anything your grandmother would not recognize as food. It was the third section which interested me the most. He emphasizes the communal nature of food and notes that when we eat together, we tend to eat better. The French get extra attention because they do not eat the healthiest food, but are in better health than most. He notes they eat less, take longer at meals, and drink wine -- all good things. "Stop Eating Before You Are Full," is one that hits home as I just passed losing 30 pounds in the past three months. Just the other day I ate too much and felt "full," which made me realize how good it is to not fill stuffed. But my favorite rule in the book: "Don't Get Your Fuel From the Same Place Your Car Does." No more six packs of powdered doughnuts for me!  

The Good Fairies of New York

This was a stretch book for me since fantasy does not get much of my attention. Some other bloggers highly recommended this book and since even Neil Gaiman loves it, I thought it would be worth the effort. Afraid I was wrong. While the premise is interesting, the writing is not. The narrative is disjointed and poorly organized, the story line longer than needed, and it even includes those elements which kill fantasy books for most (such as the approval of incest -- and I don't care if they are fairies). 

The back cover promises:

When a pair of fugitive Scottish thistle fairies end up transplanted to Manhattan by mistake, both the Big Apple and the Little People have a lot of adjusting to do. Heather and Morag just want to start the first radical fairy punk rock band, but first theyll have make a match between two highly unlikely sweethearts, start a street brawl between rival gangs of Italian, Chinese, and African fairies, help the ghost of a dead rocker track down his lost guitar, reclaim a rare triple-bloomed Welsh poppy from a bag lady with delusions of grandeur, disrupt a local community performance of A Midsummer Nights Dream, and somehow manage to stay sober enough to save all of New York from an invasion of evil Cornish fairies.

All true, but Heather and Morag are just tiring, whining fairies. Heather helps Dinnie transform from an overweight, obscene, cruel, and untalented person into an object of desire in just a short time, and since it is mainly without magic we know why this is fantasy.  There are about 15 plot lines in here and Millar simply puts an extra space between paragraphs to indicate we are jumping to something else completely. Some plots are built up only to fizzle out, others go on and on (fix the fiddle already! find the guitar! grow a new flower!), and some just push other plots forward. Perhaps I'm just not enough of a fantasy fan to comment more, so I'll hold my tongue. I'm also in the minority on this one since most reviews are glowing, so do not write this off just on my opinion.

Up Next
Every year I co-chair a critical issues symposium at my college and for 2010 our topic is food. Thus the Pollan interest. This week I'm reading Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation.

Book Forty-Two: Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson

Housekeeping is one of those island books..."if you can take five books to an island..." I first read this book nearly 15 years ago in grad school, and it has never been far away since. My copy is so old I cannot even find an image of the cover! But the cover to the left is good since the railroad bridge plays a central role in the novel.

Robinson's book fits in with the long tradition of great American novels, but I will not pursue that thought here. Instead, as I consider using this novel for a college-level English writing course (in which we also read!) I want to explore the idea of approaching life. This short book is loaded with themes (memory, water, transience, death, existence, family, role of women, and the list goes on) that I could write a series of entries on this book alone.

The plot is deceptively simple. Ruth and Lucille are two young girls dropped off on the porch of their grandmother (whom they have never met) while their mother goes to drive a car off a cliff and into a lake. This same lake took the life of their grandfather when the train he worked on went off the bridge "like a weasel sliding off a rock." They are raised by their grandmother until she dies, and two spinster great aunts jump in but eventually recruit the girl's Aunt Sylvie to handle raising them. Sylvie is "a drifter" who is fond of riding in boxcars, only laughs when asked about her husband, and seems in no particular interest to move forward. Lucille eventually leaves the two to live with a teacher so she can be like other girls, but Ruth decides to stay with Sylvie.

Sylvie's approach to life, that of a transient, is reflective of how life truly is. It sounds cliche, but we are just passing through. Sylvie's life is one of working with that direction instead of fighting against it. "Housekeeping" is the attempt to bring order against this transience, but Sylvie shows no desire to fight against nature. In fact, nature itself begins to take over their house, which Sylvie accepts (but does not necessarily welcome or discourage). Her whole life revolves around her ability to move along with where life leads her. Perhaps because her father (Ruth's grandfather) dies when she is young, she understands the transient life. And she does not fear the end of that existence. At one point Sylvie and Ruth spend the night in a rowboat on this lake which has claimed their family and below the bridge which offers escape, yet also death (and the two are often intermingled). As Ruth dips her hand in the water and thinks about how easily they could capsize, Sylvie tells her "There is nothing to be afraid of...Nothing to be worried about. Nothing at all."

Of course, Sylvie draws the attention of the well-meaning townsfolk who do not follow nor understand this transient approach to life. They want her to conform to society, if not for her sake than at least for Ruth's, and for a short time Sylvie tries this approach. But it is not in her, and Ruth sees no reason for the struggle either. Lucille also does not understand their approach and thus goes into traditional society. One way in which this book rises above others is Robinson does not set up flat characters which make it easy for Sylvie to rail against society. Instead, both Ruth and Sylvie seemed awed by the way others can master the rules of society and live in an orderly way. We also see how Sylvie must look to others, with 14 cats living in the parlor with half eaten birds, cans piled to the ceiling, and window panes missing. At times Sylvie seems to wake up and see herself, but her attempts at fitting in are short lived and bound to fail.

So how should we approach life? Of course, Robinson does honestly think we should jump in boxcars and eschew our home and communities. But should we fight the transient nature of our existence? Is there a way to balance this awareness of our mortality with "housekeeping?" The answer may lie in community and relationships, which are also central to the novel. Sylvie may be a transient, but there is a whole community of transients who depend on one another. Ruth and Lucille are torn between two communities, but each makes a conscious choice on how to live. What binds them are those current relationships and the memory (another major theme) of old relationships.

This could go on for a while, so I'll stop. To put it simply -- read this book. Not only is the plot incredible for many reasons, Robinson's prose is, well, poetic. In fact, I remember being told she published parts as poetry before publishing the novel, but that may be grad school enthusiasm. However, the book received an endless amount of praise when it came out and showed up on more than one 100 best books of the century lists in 2000. It was almost 25 years before Robinson's next novel came out a few years ago and won the Pulitzer (and I have a signed copy from when I met her on campus for a reading!). She is a remarkably brilliant yet humble person who spent much of her "time off" educating herself, although she managed to publish two non-fiction works in between the novels. Anything she has written is worth reading, and as you may have figured out, she has not written all that much. But with any luck, she'll continue at a faster rate.

Up Next

Well, Houskeeping was not supposed to be the book of the week so I'm hesitant to venture what is next. I survived a very busy week while reading this (took just three leisurely nights) and next week is not much better. So you'll have to just handle the tension and wait to be surprised.

Book Forty-One: The Heart is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

Few things are more enjoyable than discovering a great book everyone else already knows about, but which you have passed over for years. Carson McCullers' The Heart is a Lonely Hunter has been sitting on my bookshelf for a few years, and this reading project of mine prompted me to pull it down.

McCullers became an overnight literary sensation when she published this novel at age 23, prompting no less than Tennessee Williams to call her "the greatest prose writer that the South [has] produced," and Richard Wright being impressed by her ability "to rise above the pressures of her environment and embrace white and black humanity in one sweep of apprehension and tenderness." But the praise can go further. McCullers goes deep into the human condition and explores what we miss as well as what we know. Most impressive is her portrayal of a range of people and cultures without appearing stereotypical or sentimental. Published in 1940, the novel is set in the 1930s and includes some insightful comments on the integration of Jewish people along with the rise of Hitler as seen through the eyes of Americans.

The book centers around John Singer, a deaf mute who becomes many things to many people, namely because he serves as a reflection of the people speaking to him. Although he is the unifying character in the story, the narrative moves away from Singer to focus on other stories. There is Dr. Copeland, an intellectually driven African-American doctor with hopes of raising his race through the lens of Karl Marx. His daughter, Portia, is a servant in the Kelly house and also plays a significant role in the novel, although she does center around Singer. The Kelly's are an Irish-American family, large but poor, who rent out rooms, including to Singer. Mick Kelly is one of the daughters who is separated by her intelligence and love of classical music, although the family cannot afford any instruments or even a radio. Biff Brannon owns the local cafe/bar where the white characters meet up at times. Finally, there is Jake Blount, a hard drinking labor organizer who shows up in town alone and tries unsuccessfully to unite the workers.

Singer loses his best friend, another deaf mute, early in the book. While Singer is devoted to his friend, it is clear to the reader that his friend is annoying, lazy, and just plain fairly unlikable. When he is sent to an asylum to live, Singer takes a room in the Kelly house. A engraver at a jeweler's store, Singer takes his dinners in Brannon's cafe, where Blount finds a willing listener. Blount is so wrapped up in his own thinking that he talks with Singer several times before he realized that Singer is deaf and mute. Singer can read lips and learns to keep up with the different ways the characters have of talking to him.

Eventually Mick, Biff, Dr. Copeland, and Blount all find there way to Singer's simple room where they talk with him about whatever they want. Blount sees Singer as a supporter of his cause to unite workers, Copeland him finds him to be the only white man who understands the African-American condition, and Mick finds him to be the man she would like her father to be (this could be debated, but it is my current thought). Biff has less to project on Singer because his life lacks clear direction -- he is simply lonely. Singer becomes almost god-like in who people view him, but as McCullers shows us with Singer's initial relationship, he too projects himself onto others.

Of course, as the title indicates, this book is about loneliness. All the characters are looking for a connection to others, but can only find it in a man who offers them no feedback. In a short, but remarkable scene, all the characters find themselves in Singer's room at the same time and fall strangely silent. Singer cannot understand why this happens, but it is clear to the reader that the characters can only connect to someone they think is like them. They are not united in their own uniqueness, but  instead by their inability to reach out and connect with others. In some ways they have all been excluded by society, and in other ways they have separated themselves. 

As important as the theme of loneliness is that of communication, and they tie into one another. All the characters find communicating difficult, thus they are left alone. Singer cannot communicate with others so he is lonely. Copeland cannot communicate his desires for raising his race to his family or community and feels alone. Blount hears only derision for his labor demands, and is thus isolated. Biff loses his wife early on and has no one to communicate with even though he often thinks of what could be. Mick is separated from her family by her intelligence and love of music, although she is not even fully aware of how lonely she is. By communicating with Singer they all find a way to temporarily connect, but only because he serves as a sounding board.

There are many other themes to ponder in the book. Race relations, religion, facisim, and sexuality are just some of the other themes to be explored.  One of my personally favorite themes is a character as the reader, which I look at everytime a deaf and/or mute character (possibly representing the reader) appears.  That McCullers put this all together at the age of 23 is astounding since it shows someone who has been closely observing society for some time. But clearly she knew what she was aiming for. In an interview she remarked:

"I do believe that anybody who makes his own life is to be lonely, and I think this loneliness implies a condition of moral isolation." [From an interview with Hans de Vaal, Litterair Paspoort (April 1953)]

The phrase "moral isolation" is applied to this story quite a bit, and it is a loaded phrase. It implies not the isolation of physical space, but of a common connection. Few stories can be summed up in two words, but in this case, it works.

Bio

As for McCuller's herself, allow me to steal from her publisher: Carson McCullers was born Lula Carson Smith on February 19, 1917, in Columbus, Georgia. A promising pianist, McCullers enrolled in the Juilliard School of Music in New York when she was seventeen, but lacking the money for tuition, she did not attend classes. Eventually she studied writing at New York University and Columbia University, which ultimately led to the publication of her first short story, "Wunderkind," in Story magazine. In 1937, Carson married fellow writer James Reeves McCullers. Less than three years later, when she was twenty-three, she published her first novel, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. She went on to write Reflections in a Golden Eye, The Member of the Wedding, The Ballad of the Sad Café, and Clock Without Hands, among other works. The recipient of two Guggenheim fellowships, McCullers also won awards for her Broadway stage adaptation of The Member of the Wedding. Plagued by a series of strokes, attributed to a misdiagnosed and untreated case of childhood rheumatic fever, Carson McCullers died in Nyack, New York, at age fifty.

 Note on her photo: Melancholy is the best way to describe the images you see of McCullers (try a Google image search). But I chose a laughing picture, because anyone who is truly as sad as her pictures would have ended her own life quite early. 

If you want more on McCullers visit www.carson-mccullers.com or Houghton Mifflin.

Up Next

I have two very busy weeks coming up with several night obligations and papers to grade. I'm looking at Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow, but may end up elsewhere. I also want to reread the The Scarlet Letter in the next few weeks since it was released around this time 160 years ago.

Book Thirty-Nine:The First Person and Other Stories by Ali Smith

Ali Smith's world is at times bleak and lonely, at times rich and full, but in all cases a different take on life than we usually see. Smith has garnered a strong following in her short career, and this new Anchor books edition of The First Person and Other Stories solidifies the fact that she is a voice we will continue to hear from. Whether this book will be the one recommended to new readers of her work is another question.

Smith plays with the short story form, at times unsuccessfully. Her opening story, "True Short Story," is what the title says -- a true short story. The narrator overhears two men, possibly father and son, discussing literature. Their thinking drives the narrator to talk to her literary friend, battling cancer, to discuss if the short story is truly a slim nymph as described by the younger of the two men. But the story sounds more like a memoir than a short story, which is ironic since the story is a celebration of the short story.

But when she succeeds Smith proves she is worth the patience. "The Child" features a foul-mouthed, talking baby who simply shows up in the narrator's shopping cart one day. Despite her resistance to what is perhaps things to come, she finds herself drawn into caring for the sexist, racist, angelic-looking child. But in the end she finds another way to solve her problem.

While "The Child" features resolution, Smith is comfortable not finishing the story. Many of the selections show us the modern "slice-of-life" snippets, but they are not without future direction. Smith differs from many contemporary writers in that some of the stories have hope built in them as well. In "The Second Person" we watch a couple fight their way into separation, but in the end an accordion and its missing mate indicate a renewal of the relationship.

The eponymous final story is a touching love story in which one of the characters works hard to convince herself that her new relationship is nothing special. Her lover is not discouraged.

"You're not the first person who ever made me feel like this, you know, I say.
I'm the first person today, though, you say."

The passage is indicative of Smith's thinking, a focus on living in the present. It also shows hers fondness for quoting her characters with "I say -- you say -- he said -- she said" phrases as opposed to direct quotes. At times it can be confusing on who is speaking, but Smith is likely intentional here. She also often leaves genders, especially in relationships, unspoken. How the reader interprets these stories may say as much about them as Smith.

Overall we see Smith experimenting with the short story form, and like most experiments there are both failures and successes. But like most experiments, they are worth the effort.


Up Next
Finally going to finish my reread of  Frederick Buechner's Peculiar Treasures: A Biblical Who's Who which is one of the most humorous books I've read. This will be an easy read, which I need since I have stack of essays to grade this week and the possible start of a hefty volume of prose I agreed to review.

Book Thirty-Eight: Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges

Perhaps I needed a reminder of "serious" literature. Perhaps my reading has become too easy. Perhaps I was feeling too much confidence in my supposed ability to decipher text. But my eldest son decided I needed to read Borges and brought "Ficciones" home from the library (an irony that Borges fans will enjoy). This rather unassuming 142-page book (the Everyman's edition -- not the edition pictured) holds plenty to challenge the more casual reader. For Borges, I think anyone who reads his work once is a casual reader, and this is where I fall.

Borges's collection of stories require and invite repeated readings, preferably in small doses. In my quest to read one book a week I did not have the luxury needed to appreciate this book, but I intend to own it soon and return to the stories one at a time. In fact, I find talking about this book a bit difficult.

There are many themes which arise over and over. Borges is clearly intrigued by materialism, in the sense of what (if anything) constitutes the material world. Time may belong to that material world (I'm not sure if this is his concept or my interpretation), but regardless the mutability of time is a focus in many of the stories. Then there is the recurring labyrinth, a stand in for life itself (Borges is clear about this), which reappears often and includes the hint of a straight lined labyrinth named in "Death and the Compass," one of my favorite stories. Finally, mirrors make appearances as reflections of reality or perhaps reality itself. Now take all of these elements, stir well, let simmer for a while, spread over six pages, and you have a Borges shorty story.

The stories vary greatly. Many appear as essays, but are in fact stories. Then Borges reaches into the detective genre on a couple of occasions, although these are not pulp fiction versions of his thought. These are mysteries of the mind and for Borges entire worlds can come out of the mind which are no less real than the one containing the thinker (if they themselves exist -- calling all Cartesians!).

Ficciones is split into two parts. I found the second part easier to delve into, but I'm guessing it has to do with my comfort level for Borges increasing. One of best stories, The Garden of Forking Paths, is also the name of the first part, so there is plenty in both sections to ponder. But I've decided to hold off on my thoughts until I have the time to read the stories again.

For those unfamiliar with Borges, allow me to present a short biography stolen from some site called "Great Writers, Suite 101." It was hard to find a short one since everyone likes to talk about him.

Jorge Luis Borges is the best known Argentinian writer of the 20th century. He is most remembered for writing short stories that explore the boundaries between what is real and what is fiction. His best collections include El hacedor and El libro de arena.He managed to inject humor despite using elaborate and complex mazes in his stories to dramatize difficulties of achieving knowledge and humankind's pursuit in unravelling life's mysteries.

Early life of Jorge Luis Borges
Jorge Luis Borges was born on August 24, 1899, in Buenos Aires, Argentina, into an established and wealthy family. He was educated in Buenos Aires, Geneva, and Switzerland, where his family lived for several years. He read widely in Spanish, French, German, Latin and English.

Borges the Young Poet
As a young man, aged 19, Borges lived in Spain and became involved with a group of radical young poets, avant-garde Ultraist literary group, who wanted to revolutionize Spanish poetry. After returning to Buenos Aires, aged 22, Borges became the center of a revival in Argentinian literature. He published his first poetry collection, Fervour of Buenos Aires, two years after his return. He continued publishing poems along with essays.

Seasoned Short-Story Writer
Borges turned his attention to writing short stories in the 1930s. His first important work in this genre was A Universal History of Infamy, published when he was 36. It is a collection of criminals' biographies. This mixture of reality (featuring real people) and fiction (characters he made up) became an important feature in his work.

Borges published his most famous stories in his 40s. Two of his best-known collections, The Aleph and Fictions, include tales about an infinite library and an infinitely small point in space from which the whole universe can be seen. Some of his stories from El Aleph also appeared in the collection of Labyrinths.

Later Years
Borges became director of the National Library in 1955. Later in life he slowly became blind and returned to writing poetry as well as short stories.

Final Years
Borges's last book Atlas was written with Maria Kodama, his companion, and with whom he married a month before he passed away. He died at the age of 86, June 14, 1986.

Read more at Suite101: Jorge Luis Borges Biography: Argentinian Short-Story Writer, Poet, Translator, Essayist http://great-writers.suite101.com/article.cfm/jorge_luis_borges_biography#ixzz0eipiTG9r

Sorry if I appear to be skipping out this week, but I would rather hold off until I feel like I know what I want to say. This book makes you think!

Next Up

Heading to another direction with a book I'm reviewing call The First Person and Other Stories by Ali Smith. 

Happy reading!