Lory
There are three kinds of white racists: ignorant and stupid; timidly scared; and aggressively scared.
Category #1 produces stories that are funny, although it's sad that there are so many white people who are so dumb, and that there is no motivation for or effective method of overcoming their ignorance. (As Ruffin rightly points out, it is not the job of Black people to educate them.)
Category #2 and 3 produce stories that are infuriating and dangerous. The more entrenched these irrational fearful attitudes become in white society, the more the cycle of trauma, violence and injustice will continue. There is no way to re-educate people who are scared, convinced they are in danger from another group of people. They will keep rewriting the narrative of reality to support their existing framework, because changing it will feel like a threat.
Actually, 2 and 3 probably grow out of #1. So all three kinds are infuriating and dangerous. There is a lot of work to do.
An ingenious puzzle mystery written entirely in electronic correspondence (mostly emails and text messages). As one might imagine, this requires some straining of credulity, particularly regarding persons who exist only via said correspondence. It also seems absurd that a pair of legal counsel would never meet in person to discuss the evidence but would laboriously go over it via WhatsApp. However, I found it compulsively readable and couldn't sleep until I'd gotten to the end. The plot was certainly primary, but the characters were acceptably interesting and it was fun to see how the author revealed their characters through their missives. I enjoyed the “Little Theatre” setting too. In some ways, drama is in some ways the opposite of the epistolary form – as it relies on people interacting in real space and time. But on the other hand, through letter-writing one can conceal one's real identity, as does an actor. So there was a neat tension of literary form along with the criminal intrigue.
Another cute, feel-good YA romance. Millie is an over-the-top and yet believable and relatable character. Her antics are the front for some real emotional work that gets done in the course of the book. I thought her enemy-to-lover foil was a bit too good to be true, but it's a nice dream to have. I only wish there had been some actual theatrical events as part of the story, instead of only talking about putting on her school shows.
Wonderful, atmospheric fantasy, centered around the opposing figures of an evil, manipulative real mother and a wise, nurturing adoptive mother. “Wise Child” is the young girl who has to find her way between them and choose rightly, in order to unfold her powers for good. The pacing is uneven, with the ending unfortunately quite rushed, but otherwise just a wonderful world to get lost in.
A fantastically detailled, suitably pointillistic (composed largely of brief interviews with cast and crew of the original production) account of the development of a unique and important piece of theatre. Now that it's become a legend, it's fascinating to look back at its origins before anyone knew it would work, the tensions and conflicts behind the scenes, James Lapine's inexperience as a writer and director. The connecting and sustaining thread throughout is Lapine's close collaboration with Sondheim, who was just coming off a painful failure with Merrily We Roll Along and yet willing to dare again to do something completely different, following an artistic dream, taking a chance on an unknown. The complete script of the show is included at the end, but it's no substitute for watching a performance – fortunately the recording of the original production is available.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
I loved this book and want to read it again and take better notes. I think that the new approaches to trauma and recovery that have been growing in the last few decades form the most exciting development of the current century. We have an unprecedented potential to get beyond our habitual, unconscious, reactive ways of living, which generally involve hurting ourselves and each other in a misguided attempt to protect ourselves, and lead to an unending cycle of violence and/or disconnected woundedness. We now know that “disconnection is disease,” as Perry puts it, and that connected relatedness is the cure – grounded in a wise understanding of how the human being is built. That is, from the bottom up, starting with bodily sense experience and not with abstract, disjointed concepts that misinterpret and further damage the person to whom we apply them.
Correct thinking is built upon the foundation of healthy, robust, self-regulating, and above all humanly connected body-and-soul experience, and if we don't start to support this development with all the resources at our disposal, we may see the end of civilization at the hands of people with fatally incorrect, damaged thinking. If only the ideas in this book would be taken seriously on every level, from personal relationships to public policy, it would truly change the world. Everyone can make a start with their own lives – I see many of my own habits and those of my family, friends, colleagues and opponents in a new light. I'm excited to see how I can implement more healing practices myself.
I would like to know more about how to work with people who are so sensitized that even the well-meant question “What happened to you?” provokes resistance and denial in them. I think the answer lies in the practices that Perry calls “regulating,” which bring rhythm and balance to a disturbed person. I'll be looking for more resources about this aspect.
These tales from an intrepid reporter's sojourn in West Africa offer much to educate, inform, and awaken human interest in the incredible suffering and courageous acts that take place in the region. The glimpse behind the scenes of a reporter's work is interesting, but the portions about Searcey's personal life were at times uncomfortable to read. With her high-powered career and an urge to save the world, it often seemed that her family was of relatively minor importance – her husband and children were ciphers to me, far less vivid than the people of her stories and even some of her coworkers. As an issue of balance, I could suggest that this thread should either have been given more space to develop, or left out entirely. Aside from that, I am grateful to have learned about some amazing people, and for Searcey's earnest efforts to bring their stories to the world.
Beautiful, necessary, vital, honest, full of both blood and joy, this is the manual I wish I had had for the last twenty years to help me navigate the confusion and pain of a world in transition. Thank goodness we have it now, in a time that needs revolutionary love more than ever. Heartfelt thanks to Valarie Kaur, a prophet of the new world that we need to be birthing.
Read for my “Make me read it challenge” – blog readers told me which of five choices on my TBR shelf to complete.
I'm not sure I would have gotten through it without the challenge, because this is a helluva bleak dystopian vision of America 30 years in the future – that is, now. It is fascinating how much Butler got right – a California devastated by drought and fire, rampant and destructive drug use, people walling themselves off in fear and distrust and turning to guns as the only answer for self-protection, a hopeless government that is selling out its own people ... I could go on, but you get the idea. Butler could see the writing on the wall, and even though things are not quite as dire as portrayed in this novel, it increasingly feels as though we're teetering on the brink of such total chaos.
The response of the young protagonist is to venture out looking for a place to build a better life, gathering a chosen, trusted set of people as her community, and inventing an artificial, made-up religion she calls “Earthseed” to give them hope and purpose. This latter does not get much actual play in this book, other than verses from her journal at the head of each chapter, and a few scenes in which she tries to explain it to other characters. To their credit, none of the characters seem very excited about the idea, and some of them consider it absolute bosh – but they like her, so they will go along with it anyway. I can only say, just asserting that something feels true to you, does not make it true. That's not religion, that's fanaticism.
The idea of Earthseed is that human beings need to escape from this hopelessly damaged planet and find a new place among the stars. I think it would be far more interesting to consider how people could deal with the problems on this world than just run away to another one. The human mind seems irresistibly attracted to pouring resources, energy and ingenuity into creating complicated machines, rather than transforming and healing relationships. This is probably why I'm not a huge science fiction fan.
Another random aspect of the story is the main character's “hyperempathy,” a fetal-drug-induced condition that means she shares the feelings of other people, or rather what she thinks their feelings are. This brought up the question for me of why she couldn't train herself not to imagine their feelings – but I suppose that would make her a psychopath. As it is, the condition has led her to be very cold and calculating about feelings and sensations, and (ironically) not very sympathetic in a normal sense. A creepy romance with a man 40 years older than her adds another bizarre touch.
I was curious by the end how the community's experiment would turn out, so I will probably read the next book, but I'm not terribly hopeful that it will be an enjoyable experience, based on this one.
“Scripture was not really a text but an activity, a spiritual process that introduced thousands of people to transcendence.” – from the epilogue
Armstrong weaves together the composition of and response to the Bible as a coherent narrative, which makes for an easy read but creates some problems. It is an interpretation, with a certain amount of purely personal opinion thrown in. I think it would be a mistake to take it as a sole source without others to compare it to, for much is presented that is surely speculation without noting it as such (especially in the earlier periods – there is no way to tell with certainty when, where, and for whom the Gospels were written, for example, but theories are given as facts).
The overarching thesis is that rather than an immutable object, the Bible has always been a process that reveals much about the soul state of those who engage in interaction with it. The mode has veered from outwardly militant to inward and mystical, with many variations in between. In our time, we've degenerated into a rigid fundamentalism that threatens to destroy the living Word, opposed by a sterile secularism that threatens to destroy the entire world and all that lives upon it. Armstrong pleads for a new hermeneutics that will read the Bible as a gloss on the Golden Rule (an ancient idea), rather than using it as an excuse to perpetuate further inhumanity and cruelty in the world. I agree, but what I think is missing is any sense that there could be actual spiritual experience that is a valid source of insight, and into which the Bible (and other sacred texts) offer a path of knowledge, not just a variety of personal opinions.
I appreciated all the information on the history of Judaism, of which I am woefully ignorant and need to learn more, and the succinct explanation of the origins of Christian fundamentalism. This turned more toxic after it was attacked in the early twentieth century, leading to the current horrible marriage with conservative politics. Also good to have some coverage of the insane, ethically corrupt but popular and dangerous Rapture theology and its literalist interpretations.
Altogether we need to recover from literalism, but a weak pluralism is not the answer. Rather we need to rise to real experience of the true human core, which will be a spiritual experience, because the human being is spirit – and in which we will find differences overcome, because in our essence we are one, even as we are all different and unique. This is the “reading process” we need to learn and for which sacred texts are meant to prepare us.
This was less powerful than The Choice, Eger's memoir and introduction to her philosophy of life that informs her psychotherapy practice. In The Gift she details more of the latter, in 12 chapters focusing on different thought patterns we can use to change ourselves and meet our lives with more courage and inner strength. Not much was new, it's all good psychological advice, but coming through her perspective as a Holocaust survivor it's particularly valuable; one can't say that she herself has not known adversity. Missing is any awareness of more recent advances in neuroscience and trauma therapy that go beyond talk and cognitive therapy alone. I would really like to know Dr. Eger's thoughts on this field - maybe in the next book.
This was the rare book that was in equal parts hilarious and dismaying. The eternal human quest toward liberty and independence comes into the modern age, meeting the intractable forces of nature and raising many questions about whether we'll be able to survive the project. Most intriguing was the suggestion that the destructive, self-sabotaging behavior of both bears and humans may be related to a parasite causing damage in the brain. It's super ironic to think that the so-called “freedom” of the libertarians may be a mirage elicited by a tiny creature of which they have no knowledge, for all their pride in their own mental acuity. What is freedom anyway? It's not so simple as taking over a town, or a state, or a country, and subjecting it to your own selfish ideas. Here's hoping we can preserve some degree of mental health, and find some more workable solutions.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
Read this for review on Shiny New Books (coming soon). I was riveted by this account of one family's struggle with schizophrenia, interspersed with information about the history of how the condition has been understood and treated. Some individuals, particularly the father, remained quite shadowy, but I thought the author overall did a fine job of presenting the information he gathered as a fluent narrative, allowing the reader a way into this complex drama. There is so much to learn and the willingness of at least some of the Galvins to share their story can help us to inch forward in understanding and hopefully treating this mysterious disease.
A family saga that tells of the struggle, displacement and violence experienced by Vietnam's last few generations. The story swept me along but by the end it felt a bit rushed, with so many dramatic events and characters to pack in. I had the same issue with Pachinko. The writing style was not especially memorable either. But an important and very moving and humanly impressive story, for sure.
This reminded me of a grown-up version of The Westing Game, with its quirky mystery, interlocking backstories, red herrings, and fragmented storytelling style that ultimately came together with a focus on relationships and human warmth. My first Backman book but I'm curious to read some others by him now. Thanks to Netgalley for providing a copy from the publisher for review consideration.
These short essays combine appreciation of the wonders of nature with reflections from the author's life and experiences. Often they were VERY short and fragmentary, leading to a wish for more depth and continuity. The author is a poet, and they were similar to lyric poems in prose, which gave them a quirky kind of originality, but also sometimes failed to satisfy.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
Read for the umpteeth time to celebrate March Magics at We Be Reading and Reading the Theatre at Entering the Enchanted Castle. It qualifies for the latter because of a brief but chilling Punch and Judy scene (imagine the horror of being forced to play the role of one of those murderous puppets), and because the magic in the book is wonderfully performative – enacted specifically through singing. I love the wizards' battle and its description of magic made manifest through choral singing, a magic I sorely miss during the pandemic lockdown. The warring families theme is a nod to Romeo and Juliet, but with a much happier ending. The child characters, as often in DWJ's books, need to discover their true powers and stop worrying about external expectations; it has some terrific cat characters as well. It's not as hilarious or twisty as some others, but I'm very fond of it and was so happy to escape to Caprona for a while.
Reviews and more on my blog: Entering the Enchanted Castle
A scattered sort of story, posited as a novelist searching for the truth about her famous mother's invented life and eventual madness, her own paternity, and the reality of love in a confusing world. Not at all straightforwardly told, it's more in line with how most of us probably process and slowly work through memories and impressions, but written in much more poetic language. I found it absorbing and moving, though I gravitate to more conventional narratives in general and am not sure I'd read another by this author.
I didn't listen to the full audiobook, but given the positive comments from several readers about the author's narration, I listened to a sample. I think Enright did a terrific job as a narrator, and if you're an audiobook fan, I can imagine this would really enhance the experience. The prose is meant to be heard, in a finely modulated Irish voice, so the author doing that for you is a great benefit.
This was a pleasant enough read. The dialogue harmonized well with the original, without too many jarring anachronisms. I found the descriptive passages less successful, with lots of cliches (e.g. a spring in her step, used twice within the first few chapters). I wish that the language had had more bite and originality to it.
As for the plot – there's no way I think Austen would have imagined this kind of future for Mary, in her book an insufferable prig who is the target of scorn, not of empathy and compassion. But for modern readers it's quite satisfying to get inside the mind of this bookish girl, understand how an emotionally neglectful upbringing made her who she was, and see her slowly transform herself into a woman who is capable of loving and being loved, without sacrificing the gifts of her intellect.
I could accept Mary's rehabilitation, but that of Mr Collins was too far-fetched for me! He was much too self-reflective and dignified for the arrogant little toady we love to hate in P&P. Caroline Bingley, on the other hand, became a soulless viper in exchange. Seeing Mary stand up to her was a satisfying moment.
The stories collected by Asbjørnsen and Moe form one of the treasures of world folklore. In this newly translated, definitive edition we have these beloved tales – such as East of the Sun and West of the Moon, The Three Billy Goats Gruff – and others less well known, in a version that strives to preserve the spirit of the original. The translator's introduction is fascinating and enlightening, and as an appendix the introductions to the first four Norwegian editions are included for further research. A foreword by Neil Gaiman was not included in the review copy, but I'm sure it will also be excellent. This is a must-have edition for lovers of folktales.
This was sort of cute, but I didn't get much Swiss atmosphere and was not that captured by the characters or their romance. Could be one to try reading in German original but otherwise not worth the time.
Another 2021 reread of a childhood favorite. I always loved this exciting adventure story, illogical though it may be. My favorite part was when Ellen puts the crown on in the cave lined with glittering quartz stones and feels peacefully entranced, as if by beautiful silent music. Nowadays, I still find the story powerful as an image of ego development, which can achieve mastery of lower forces and mechanistic elements – “who wears the black crown, I rule; who wears the silver crown, rules me.” Not that much character development happens in the story; Ellen just innately has this ability (as stated in the very first sentence, although we don't yet fully understand its significance: “Ellen had always known she was a queen, and now the crown proved it”). But in the end she is tested by the temptation of absolute power, and does prove herself a real ruler by giving it up.
The exposition of the Hieronymus Machine's plot to rule the world is a chilling counterpart to enterprises now underway ... the seemingly harmless devices that invade everyone's homes and make them into tools of the machine. Maybe if enough people read this book they won't be fooled.
As I just finished Don Quixote, I had to read this book. I've only read two other books by Rushdie: his children's books Haroun and the Sea of Stories (loved) and Luka and the Fire of Life (hated). Although I enjoyed some parts of Quichotte, on the whole it did not come together for me. Rushdie's writing was a mishmash of cliches, quotations, and derivative elements, meant no doubt as parody and homage, but lacking a distinctive “music” of its own. The dissolution of the world of the novel in the end paralleled the dissolution of any caring I had developed for the characters, as the whole scenario just became sillier and more bizarre. Maybe that was the point, but it left me feeling cheated rather than exhilarated.
Along the way I thought often of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, who have played similar kinds of games with words, language, and literature, but have done it so much better. Either of them would be more deserving of the Booker Prize, in my opinion.
The Arthurian legend is used as a slim basis for what is essentially a newly imagined fantasy world, with many elements from familiar tales (a dark enchantress, magical woods, changelings) shaken up and recombined. I liked a lot of these ideas – Guinevere's role in particular is a welcome departure from the usual, and I loved the image of Camelot as a rock-born fortress in the midst of a river – but as a whole I wasn't pulled in enough by the story or characters to keep reading. I read enough to know this is a respectably written effort that will please many readers, though it wasn't compelling for me.
I found this a fascinating account of the psychology of indoctrination and extremism, seen from the inside out. The author writes beautifully along with telling a compelling story, and is able to minutely follow her own emotional and mental process with great honesty. The sequence where she finds her long-held opinions breaking up was astonishing. When one has been raised to have such intractable, inflexible thoughts, to change one's mind is truly an act of bravery and almost a miracle.
In literalist theology it seems to me that people take the guidebook that should be pointing them to an experience, as if it were the thing itself, as if they wanted to live inside the book. Scripture should only be a way to orient us toward God, not a God itself. And there are other ways, other possible guidebooks, other languages, and other concepts than “God” that can lead us toward the same thing. You can get there without using a book at all, just as you can take a journey without a guide! To look at a book as though IT were directing us, rather than the human mind and soul, is as much idol-worship as bowing down before a golden calf.
Human beings become what they worship. When they worship a dead idol, they become dead. That's why the practice is abhorrent - because the true purpose of all religion, and certainly of Christianity, is to enable human beings to become alive. Not in some hypothetical afterlife, but now. Even in the wilderness of our hearts, where we have slain the life-giving creator spirit through our hatred, our ignorance and our blindness, life can spring up again. I experienced that sense of resurrection through this story, for which I am grateful.
One can selectively quote scripture out of context to prove almost anything one wishes. It's the movement and direction of the whole that is important. Even the ancient Israelites changed and evolved, as is shown in the course of the Hebrew scriptures. And in the Gospels we see this transform even further, turning the concepts of previous religious life on their head, demanding that people change their hearts and minds and make a step in inwardly manifesting what had formerly been outer practice – a development that the fanatics of Westboro Baptist Church seem to miss entirely. If they had been among the crowd around Christ's crucifixion, they surely would have been shouting for his death.