Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Reading and the Cosmos

Unknown | 12:29:00 AM | 0 comments
I'm almost always in the process of reading a book; often I'm reading two. It's not unusual for me to be reading three. (There's also a scattering of a half-dozen books that I read at the pace of a snail across years, but I'm not counting those here – I'm talking about books I'm actively reading now with the intention of finishing them soonish.) That's usually my limit, and when I'm reading three books, two of them will almost certainly be either nonfiction or short stories; I rarely read more than one novel at the same time.

Right now, however, I'm in a few days of taking a break from all writing, which means I have more time to read. I am also preparing, in invisible ways, for the next bunch of writing – which means I'm finding myself drawn to more nonfiction than is usual for me. Putting together the pleasure reading, the reading that is obligated for various reasons, and the reading specifically directed toward informing my writing, I'm currently reading:

The Dispossessed, by Ursula Le Guin. Such a wonderful book to soak up slowly (I'm also alternately listening to the audiobook, which is a delight), and I'm noticing the way Le Guin manages to describe a landscape or a room with one simple, searing sentence which leaves me with a clear vision and does not numb my mind with boredom (as so much descriptive language tends to do). In Urras: "They came into the reading room of the library. Aisles of old books, under delicate double arches of marble, stood in dim serenity; the lamps on the long reading tables were plain spheres of alabaster." Done; no more description of the reading room needed. In Anarres: "The wide streets of Abbenay were quiet in the winter night. At each crossing the dim streetlight made a pool of silver, across which dry snow flurried like shoals of tiny fish, chasing their shadows." Obviously there are grander things to talk about in a book like this, but I'm also loving the little things.

Writing Beyond Race: Living Theory and Practice, by bell hooks. This is a collection of essays, published in 2013 by Routledge, in which hooks talks about systems of domination and how we can challenge them. A dominator culture hurts everyone in that culture; hooks has a way of presenting things clearly, helping me see the bigger picture. A couple of excerpts: "Accountability is a more expansive concept because it opens a field of possibility wherein we are all compelled to move beyond blame to see wherein our responsibility lies. Seeing clearly that we live within a dominator culture of imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, I am compelled to locate where my responsibility lies. In some circumstances I am more likely to be victimized by an aspect of that system, in other circumstances I am in a position to be a victimizer. If I only lay claim to those aspects of the system where I define myself as the oppressed and someone else as my oppressor, then I continually fail to see the larger picture. After more than thirty years of talking to folks about domination, I can testify that masses of folks in our society – both black and white – resist seeing the larger picture." (30-31) Also: "As we move away from dominator culture towards a liberatory culture where partnership and mutuality are valued we create a culture wherein we can all learn to love. There can be no love where there is domination. And any time we do the work of love we are doing the work of ending domination." (37)

Into Great Silence: A Memoir of Discovery and Loss among Vanishing Orcas, by Eva Saulitis. From the cover copy: "Ever since Eva Saulitis began her whale research in Alaska in the 1980s, she has been drawn deeply into the lives of a single extended family of endangered orcas struggling to survive in Prince William Sound. Over the course of a decades-long career spent observing and studying these whales, and eventually coming to know them as individuals, she has, sadly, witnessed the devastation wrought by the Exxon Valdez oil spill of 1989 – after which not a single calf has been born to the group. With the intellectual rigor of a scientist and the heart of a poet, Saulitis gives voice to these vital yet vanishing survivors and the place they are so loyal to. Both an elegy for one orca family and a celebration of the entire species, Into Great Silence is a moving portrait of the interconnectedness of humans with animals and place – and of the responsibility we have to protect them." Here are a few random but beautiful excerpts: "It felt like a dream, as if I'd asked, before sleep: Show me how to be part of this place." (Page 4 – though I'm reading the e-book, so I'm not certain how the page numbers translate to the paper book.) "Most of all, I agonized over stories of the roundups of the 1960s and '70s, live captures of wild orcas for aquariums, juveniles torn away from mothers. Normally residents stay with their mothers for life. Some of those orcas, having been herded with powerboats and seal bombs, surrounded by seines, culled from their pods, isolated in net pens, and shipped all over the world, still circled tanks, day after day." (7) "I fingered my sweater's hem. My mother had knitted it to keep me warm in a wilderness utterly foreign to her." (22)

The Whisperers: Private Life in Stalin's Russia, by Orlando Figes. This book is largely about paranoia, treachery, and heartbreak at the family level during Stalin's regime and I'm honestly not ready to formulate any personal reactions yet, beyond that it's a difficult read for a lot of reasons. Here's a link to the Kirkus (starred) review and an excerpt from the PW review: "One in eight people in the Soviet Union were victims of Stalin's terror—virtually no family was untouched by purges, the gulag, forced collectivization and resettlement, says Figes in this nuanced, highly textured look at personal life under Soviet rule. Relying heavily on oral history, Figes, winner of an L.A. Times Book Prize for A People's Tragedy: The Russian Revolution, 1891–1924, highlights how individuals attempted to maintain a sense of self even in the worst years of the Stalinist purges. More often than not, they learned to stay silent and conform, even after Khrushchev's thaw lifted the veil on some of Stalin's crimes. Figes shows how, beginning with the 1917 Bolshevik revolution, the Soviet experience radically changed personal and family life. People denied their experiences, roots and their condemned relatives in order to survive and, in some cases, thrive. At the same time, Soviet residents achieved great things, including the defeat of the Nazis in WWII, that Russians remember with pride. By seamlessly integrating the political, cultural and social with the stories of particular people and families, Figes retells all of Soviet history and enlarges our understanding of it."

Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I have never read this book, have only just begun, and am already delighted to be adding it to the mix (though I may need to finish The Dispossessed before I can really get into this other big novel).

When I'm reading this many books on so many different topics, you'd think I'd have this sense of great learning and accomplishment. What actually happens is that I become more and more overwhelmed by how little I know about anything. Oh my goodness, I know nothing about science fiction, philosophy, political structures or sociological revolutions, imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, orcas or Alaska, and I know doubly nothing about Russia. Seriously, I feel like the more I try to understand the political history of Russia, the more confused I get, none of which is creating any insight into that nation's current bizarre behavior. I AM IGNORANT!!!

But then I watched the most recent episode of Cosmos: A Space-Time Odyssey and found that host Neil deGrasse Tyson has a knack for pulling everything together so that suddenly everything fits. Of course, this isn't the first time I've noticed that backing yourself up so you're looking at the entire universe is a great way to get perspective and make everything fit :) – I've even blogged about this, more than once – but this wonderful TV show reminded me, just when I needed it, that there is room for everything and that it's valuable for me to remember, always, how much I don't know. Then Tyson made some remark about how every time a genius astrophysicist makes some new discovery, it comes hand-in-hand with an appreciation of how much he or she doesn't know yet (I am paraphrasing) and I was very happy. I may be confused, but I belong here. :o)

This blog post is kind of dense and all over the place, but I'm going to go ahead and publish it, because I need to clean my bathroom and go buy a pie. These are my important responsibilities to the universe today.

January Cold Randutiae

Unknown | 8:55:00 AM | 0 comments
A couple years ago, we had one of those winters that never really got started... hardly any snow, and the temperatures weirdly high. Spring came and I felt like I'd been cheated. That's certainly not happening this year. And here in Cambridge, our frequent temps of 10 and 20°F (-12 and -7°C, approximately) are downright balmy compared to the -20 and -30°F temps (-29 and -34°C) a friend in Minnesota is having on a regular basis. For me, it's something to laugh and occasionally whine about, because I'm damn lucky, but for a lot of people, it's creating a lot of suffering and is downright dangerous… I wish everyone could be okay.

A heartfelt thank you for everyone who clicked on my Seabane Isn't Real post! I just took a look at the hit count and was touched that my readers are taking my request seriously.

Work has been enjoyable lately but also intense and energy-sapping. Hence, no blogging. But I've been keeping a little list of randutiae that bears mentioning, so here we go.

Sherlock. So, Sherlock has returned for a third season in the USA and I'm having some trouble trying to keep straight whether Sherlock has come back from the dead as a total and unforgivable asshole (as in the first episode) or as an entirely forgivable and endearing asshole (as in the second episode). I find his characterization inconsistent, but Benedict Cumberbatch is such a fine actor that I believe in every individual moment completely. Also, these new episodes are FUNNY. And (if you're allergic to spoilers, skip the rest of this paragraph), that kiss in the first few minutes of the first episode was the most entertaining (and hilarious) TV kiss I've ever seen. Fly through a plate glass window, adjust the trenchcoat, ruffle the hair, OH MY GOODNESS. About Mary -- notice I'm not going wild with excitement that they've introduced an important female character. You know what, I'm sincerely glad they have, but I'm tired of treating tiny baby steps as if they're a revolution for the industry, so I'll leave it at that.

Downton Abbey. I have a lot of words about why I'm done watching Downtown Abbey (serious spoilers ahead), but this evening I'd rather do something else with my energy. So instead I'm going to link to an article in the Guardian in which two thoughtful women, Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett and Bidisha, present opposing opinions about whether the rape scene in the second episode of the most current season was acceptable television. I appreciate both women's perspectives, but I especially appreciate Bidisha's, as I am sick to death of the frequency with which rape is portrayed shallowly in entertainment media. I also feel that this particular case -- the rape of Anna, whose husband will certainly retaliate if he finds out -- should be an opportunity for people to talk about what a serious problem it is in our society that there are too many women and children who suffer rape and other violence but are then unable to tell the men in their lives -- fathers, brothers, husbands, partners -- the truth of what's happened, out of fear that those men, rather than giving them the real support they need in that moment, will retaliate in a fit of violence that is understandable but in fact selfishly makes the woman's or child's situation worse.

Among Others Audiobook. I recently read and very much enjoyed the novel Among Others by Jo Walton, and I'd like  to make a special point about the audiobook, read by Katherine Kellgren. Wanting to rest my eyes, I switched to the audiobook at about the 20% mark, and I'm SO glad I did! I would've loved the book either way, but this was one of my best audiobook experiences ever, up there with listening to Barack Obama read Dreams From my Father. At first, I thought it might be a disaster, not because Kellgren reads with a very strong and distinct Welsh accent (this is appropriate to the book) but rather because she reads with a distinct tone of voice that is so different from my inner voice that I was momentarily thrown. It only took me a few minutes to get over that, though, because in fact her tone is just right, and so much more spot-on my own. I laughed out loud so many times! I've now used the word "so" four times in this paragraph (not counting that time), which demonstrates the passion of my recommendation. :o)

The Ides of March. I enjoyed George Clooney's movie The Ides of March, which stars Ryan Gosling (spoilers ahead), but I felt that what was IMO the biggest flaw in the plot was demonstrative of the casual systemic sexism in Hollywood. Namely… why would she kill herself? Why would she kill herself? I felt like maybe the reason she would kill herself is because she's not a real or believable character and exists only to serve the plot. It's a crack in the movie. The actress (Evan Rachel Wood) did a wonderful job with the role, but the movie would have been a better piece of art if she'd been more legitimate a character.

The Heart of Robin Hood I saw this show recently at the American Repertory Theater here in Cambridge, Mass, and (spoilers ahead!) you know what, while I didn't entirely believe in the characterizations of Robin Hood or Marion (Why would she love him exactly? He's a violent, murdering thug! And why would he love her? He saw her once!), the staging is something special. On the stage roof and extending over the audience is the most enormous oak tree, and the actors are essentially aerialists. They enter and exit by climbing or descending ropes OR by sliding down this rather extraordinary steep slope at the back of the stage. You're sitting there watching the show and people keep suddenly appearing on stage by sliding down the back wall! The one moment when I did believe in Robin Hood and Marion's love was achieved by aerialist work. Also, randomly, the show contained the most magical and realistic snowfall I've ever seen on a stage. And it was funny, AND, there's a scene where Robin's gang uses the corpse of a man they've killed as a marionette and it is the FUNNIEST THING EVER, magnificently acted by the guy playing the corpse marionette. (My apologies to this actor; I'm kicking myself for not paying closer attention to the name of that character so that I can share the actor's name here.) Hints of a few Broadway shows – in the use of music, I found it reminiscent of Once, and in the depiction of animals, I thought of War Horse.

Hourly News. This is my new favorite phone app. It plays the three-or four-minute hourly news headlines from NPR, the BBC, the CBC, and a range of other options, including one as far away as Hong Kong. A great way to spend a few minutes getting the major headlines. I wish there were options from a broader range of worldwide sources, and hope this will come in time. Seems to be only for Mac devices, though?

The Perilous Gard. I recently reread and loved The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope. A wonderful book with some Tam Lin elements!

Note by Note: The Making of Steinway L1037. Curious about the hand-craftsmanship that goes into a Steinway piano? If you can get your hands on this documentary, do watch it, it's really fascinating. One thing I love about the process of creating these pianos is how many times a piano is sent to a new department in order to have practically the same manufacturing process applied to it as in the last department. These piano-makers repeat the same process repeatedly with each piano (something I can relate to as a writer), and that's partly what makes Steinway grands such wonderful creatures in the end. Each one unique.

Finally (have I really reached the end of my list?), I'm so happy to report that Bitterblue is a bestseller in Israel. Many thanks to my Hebrew-reading readers and to my Israeli publisher, Kinneret Zmora! That's the cover at the top of this post – click to enbiggen.