THE BOOK OF EELS by Patrik Svensson (Ecco, 2020)

I'd like you to know about this book even if you don't have the slightest interest in eels. Eels are slimy.There's no way I would eat eel, ever, but they are central to dinner time in some cultures. 

The full title of this particular book is: The Book of Eels: Our Enduring Fascination with the Most Mysterious Creature in the Natural World, and that is not an exaggeration. For centuries, humans have

been trying to figure out how eels make new eels, and we still. don't. know. Plenty of eels have been caught and studied, but none of these have had reproductive organs. We know that eels go through stages of life, and it turns out that instead of the three stages scientists were able to positively identify, Eels go through four stages. It's in that fourth stage that eels grow their reproductive parts, and humans have never caught eels in this stage. That may seem unbelievable, but part of the reason is that eels instinctively know when they get near that stage, and it's a different age for each eel, they know to get themselves to the Sargasso Sea where they will become mature, mate, and create new little eels which look like willow leaves.

You think I'm making this up, but I'm not.

This book is fascinating. The eel biology and history chapters alternate with the author's own experience fishing and trapping for eels with his father. His is one of those cultures for whom the eel is an important food, and the acquisition of these eels is an important part of his bond with his father. This is what supplies the fantastic ending of the book.

I read this book during a heatwave in front of a fan, and it was compelling enough to distract me from the extra-extra high temperature. After reading the New Yorker's review, I said out loud, "I have to read that book." Really, for something completely different and satisfying, read this book.

Another fascinating tidbit: before he became a best-selling author at the turn of the last century writing about another topic, Sigmund Freud tried to solve the mystery of where baby eels came from. Unsuccessful, he switched his career focus.

THE SNOW LEOPARD by Peter Matthiessen

After his beloved wife, Deborah Love, passes away, Peter Matthiessen embarks on a trip to Nepal to make sense of his existence. It's 1973 and the trip is planned for two months. He tags along with his friend, George Schaller (known as GS in the book) who is journeying to these remote mountains to study Himalayan blue sheep. One of GS's research questions is whether these animals are more like sheep, or indeed, more like goats. Both men decide that while the animals known as Bharal are similar to goats, they are, in reality, sheep through and through. Adult Bharal or Himalayan blue sheep are about 120 pounds and 4.3 feet long in case you were wondering.

PM has other quests and questions on his mind. During this time of grief after his wife's death, he is looking to fortify his spiritual being. As a follower of Zen Buddhism, he has meaningful conversations with guides, Sherpas, porters, and villagers he meets along the way. Lots of food for spiritual thought there, but his ultimate goal is to find the Crystal Monastery and meet the Lama of Shey who studies there. This is no easy climb, but with an ever-changing cast of porters and Sherpas, the men finally arrive at Crystal Mountain and meet the humble lama of Shey. They were surprised to find a picture of a Yeti on a flag in the monastery once the key was found and they were let in. The mysterious Yeti was a frequent topic of conversation during the journey.

I've seen a snow leopard, more than once, at the Cape May County Zoo. Does PM ever see one? He looks and looks, and the men find evidence that at least one snow leopard is near them at various points of their journey. They find tracks and scat, but do they ever look one in the eye as I have at the zoo? You'll have to read the book to find that out, but you won't be sorry. PM;s detailed descriptions of what his group sees, how they feel, the equipment they carry (and lose), and what they eat while exploring the wilderness of Nepal will help you feel as if you've been on the journey with GS and PM, but without the bloody blisters.

Most importantly, PM describes his moments of transparency as he explores the mountains and Buddhist landmarks in Nepal. Whether the illuminations of this journey stay with him after 1973 we don't know and can't ask. This fine book of nature writing is held up as an example to aspiring creative nonfiction writers, and won the National Book Award in 1978. It has been at the top of my To-Be-Read pile for years, and I'm happy to say it exceeded my expectations!

WORKING: RESEARCHING, INTERVIEWING, WRITING by Robert A. Caro

As a librarian, I enjoy matching books with people. People I know often receive books for birthday or holiday gifts, and library patrons often get recommendations from behind the reference desk. When I saw this book reviewed months ago I thought it was a good match for me. I knew I'd be fascinated bay Robert Caro's writing and research habits, but I doubted I would recommend the book to anyone other than my nonfiction writing friends. The truth is, the scope of the book is much wider than one man's research habits. He has written two Pulitzer-Prize-winning biographies, and the reader gets to learn about those subjects by way of reading about Caro's research and interviewing practices. I suspect curious readers other than my nonfiction crowd would enjoy this well-written book.

I didn't know Robert Moses's name, but I sure know his work: he was behind many of the bridges, expressways, and other projects in the New York area. Learning about him was fascinating, and learning about his use/abuse of power was disturbing! The fact is, though, that his projects are his legacy and we use them now without even thinking of how they came to be or what might have been on that land where a highway or bridge approach is now. Who had to lose their homes? Why does a particular highway have that strange curve in it? Robert Caro describes the meticulous research he engaged in for this book along with the many interviews he conducted. His wife, Ina, researched along with him, and in some cases smoothed the way into interviews with Moses's contacts and and those of the second prize-winning biography, Lyndon B. Johnson.

In order to write the book on LBJ, Robert Caro announced to his wife that they would be moving to LBJ's part of Texas to see what it felt like to live there. They got to know the land and interviewed many people who knew LBJ when he was younger. Lots of secrets came out that hadn't been in other Johnson biographies, making Caro's multi-volume work unique. I often encourage college students to dive deeper into their research for assignments (and I'm picturing an Olympic regulation swimming pool when I say that), but Caro here dove into the deepest, darkest, coldest ocean for his research!

I was captivated by this book, even more than I predicted I would be. I gleaned some ideas for my own writing, such as "dressing for work" when I sit down to a day of writing. It is work in the sense that writers need to shut out distractions for optimal productivity, but it is not grudge work. I might try "dressing for work" when I carve out writing days. Caro writes in longhand as I do, at least for research and interview notes and first drafts. I like knowing that. But the item I liked best from his description of his process is that each chapter of his books has its own notebook. I think Caro and I would have lots to talk about.

LIVING WITH A DEAD LANGUAGE by Ann Patty

Salve! You may have noticed that I took a bit of a sabbatical from this blog. I was busy (a LOT has happened since I last posted) and I wasn't getting much feedback on the books I posted about. I think now the time is right to get back to it. So many people are working remotely during this Corona Virus Crisis and might soon tire of streaming TV, naps, cleaning, and talking to the other people living in their homes. They might. I'm here to recommend reading as an alternative. Getting lost in a good book is the most intellectually-satisfying way to spend some hours of seclusion, don't you think? Read a good book and you'll have fodder for conversations when they do happen. Readers are leaders.

This month I read a fantastic book written by Ann Patty, a retired book editor. (You've heard of Flowers in the Attic and The Life of Pi? Those were hers.) A funny thing happened when she retired: she got bored. She decided to take up an endeavor she had been thinking about for years. She decided to learn Latin! I've tried, unsuccessfully, to learn Latin on multiple occasions, but always run aground. Patty dove into the deep end of Latin learning by auditing Latin courses at Vassar College. She enjoyed excellent teachers with varying teaching styles and always had someone to practice with. This was one of my difficulties: I didn't always have a practice partner, and there's no place on this planet to go where people walk around speaking Latin. That's why it's called a "dead" language.

Latin is fascinating, though, because you learn roots of words we use in English, and translating Latin is kind of like an intellectual puzzle. Ann Patty had her challenges with it, but she loved those. The reader can tell she was delightfully obsessed with this project, and I'd be willing to bet that she is still enjoying it now.

It's true that she mentions and explains various points of Latin grammar that the average reader probably won't understand. That's okay, really, because it is Patty's story that is compelling, not Latin declensions. I found myself making flashcards of interesting vocabulary words, quotes, and points of grammar. These really do come in handy, and I don't mean simply for impressing my friends with my rudimentary Latin language.

My challenge to you is this: think of a book you've always wanted to read. Maybe it's Moby Dick or Little Women or The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Think of a movie or mini-series based on a book that you enjoyed and read the book for a much more nuanced understanding of the plot and characters. Maybe you watched Poldark, Little Women, or Emma. Did you watch The Durrells in Corfu? Read one of Gerald Durrell's many books, or Lawrence's. I just discovered Margot wrote a memoir, too. Post a comment on this blog about what you're reading or intending to read. I'm so interested to know! Let's keep each other company during this unfortunate time of social distancing and self-quarantine.

P.S. If you haven't watched The Durrells in Corfu, a PBS Masterpiece miniseries, I recommend that, too.

LET THE GREAT WORLD SPIN by Colum McCann

This might be the favorite book of my summer reading season. There's still another month or so of heavy reading ahead of me, but Colum McCann's book is going to be hard to beat. It's more than a novel, it's a multifaceted, multi-voiced tale of New York City during August 1974, where each voice

relates to the others or a certain remarkable event. I can't reveal many details without taking away the astonishment aspect of this story. The wonderment is less in the content than in the magnificent telling. Evidently, the National Book Award judges felt the same way since this book won that award in 2009. It also won the 2011 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award which is also a huge honor.

I met Colum McCann in June, at a writers' conference where he spoke about his writing and research process. I sat enraptured as he spoke of living among the subterranean homeless people who live in New York City subway tunnels. This research was for another book, but when reading Let the Great World Spin, I could imagine him researching its characters as thoroughly. How else could he write convincingly in the voice of a prostitute or a radical priest?

After his talk, as he signed my book, I awkwardly attempted to chat him up, He was polite, but my questions were dumb. I was starstruck. He explained that he wrote something in Irish (we'd say Gaelic) that means...um...oh my gosh, I was so starstruck I forgot. I probably wrote the translation down somewhere. Here is a photo of that treasured autograph:

Colum McCann is from Ireland technically, although he has demonstrated that he is a citizen of the world. One of his central characters in this novel is an Irish guy who comes to the United States to visit his brother. (For this tiny bit only McCann could write from his own experience rather than his virtuosic research.) The brother is a father (a priest) who works in a nursing home but looks after a colony of prostitutes working near his home in the Bronx. That alone would be enough of a story for a typical novel, but McCann adds more fully-realized characters and stories, relates them all to each other and the spectacle of a tightrope walker who walked a wire strung between the two World Trade Center towers in 1974.

Here's something unique: McCann collaborated with musician Joe Hurley to create a song cycle based on the book. "The House that Horse Built (Let the Great World Spin)" is the result. I just now learned of it, and that Patti Smith sings on it. YES I'm going to score a copy!

You still have some summer left. There will be stormy days and super-hot days. My recommendation is to make yourself comfortable with a glass of ice-water, possibly infused with strawberries, and read this book.

A NATURALIST AT LARGE by Bernd Heinrich

Do Phoebes benefit from making their nests near humans so that humans will chase away predators? I don't know, but naturalist Bernd Heinrich thinks that might be the case. He writes about phoebes in his essay, "Phoebe Diary," and provides another example from nature: "some tropical bird species rear their young near wasp nests and depend on the insects to repel predators." So, replace tropical birds with phoebes and wasps with humans, and the idea seems plausible.

Heinrich has been writing about nature (birds, insects, trees, flowers) for decades, but I've only been reading him for the past few. This collection of essays is a treasure trove of interesting nature writing accessible to people like me who never bothered to get a Biology degree or learn to identify birds outside their own state.

Did you know the top, vertical branch of a conifer is its leader? It contains special hormones called gibberellins which promote its upward growth while inhibiting the growth of nearby buds and twigs. Lower branches still grow outward, though, which produces the conical shape which helps it grab essential light in a forest. If you haven't guessed, we're talking about basic Christmas trees here.

Two of Heinrich's special interests in nature are ravens and irises. He's written on both extensively. The book, Mind of a Raven, was a top-seller, not solely in nature books. It's on my TBR (To-Be-Read) list with a star next to it. As for irises, Heinrich spent so much time observing these flowers that he noticed the buds always unfurl in a counterclockwise direction. This observation led him to discover that most buds do unfurl this way, too. He wonders how they know to do that, and I wonder how that question ever occurred to him.

I sincerely endorse this compelling book of nature essays for anyone who wants to learn more about birds, bees, flowers, trees, and basically our planet. Yellow birch trees grow on rock. Kinglets huddle. Bees regulate their hive temperature. Carnivorous lady fireflies eat male fireflies of other species when responding to their mating calls. Really, this stuff is fascinating and you should read it. In a hammock. Or a treehouse. Or a park bench.

RUN, RIVER by Joan Didion

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live...We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the "ideas" with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience.” 

Joan Didion, "The White Album" from The White Album

Run, River (1963) is a novel by one of my favorite essayists, the writer's writer Joan Didion. I never met a Didion essay I didn't like, a lot. She writes about suburban shopping malls, the opulent mansions in Newport, lots about California including the Manson family, and all sorts of social commentary. She wrote a couple of memoirs after losing her daughter and her husband within a couple years of each other. I'd never read one of her novels until this month, when I downloaded Run, River and listened to it in the car. I didn't know if my fascination with her writing would carry over to her novels.  It took me some time to get into it, but by the halfway point I was engrossed. The character development and nuances of storytelling are masterful. I don't know how Didion did it, but I started thinking I was (protagonist) Lily, while alone with her in the car. We have little in common, so it wasn't that I related to her thoughts, feelings, and bad decisions. I just understood her thanks to Didion's fantastic writing.

Lily, Everett, Martha, Joe, Ryder, and a few parents and offspring populate the novel. I'm not going to give awayany secrets, because the way Didion reveals those secrets is part of the beauty of the novel. At least one of those characters end up dead, and please don't expect this author to tell you straight out how this happens. Nope, she casually mentions that person's funeral merely as a point on a timeline when she's describing another event. Wait, what? Did I miss something? If I had been reading a print book, I could have paged back a bit to see what I accidentally skimmed over. With an audio book, there's not a possibility to go back especially when driving. It would have been a waste of time anyway, because this was simply a cavalier mention of a death that hasn't happened yet. Eventually, Didion gets around to telling us what happened to this character in the most deliciously suspenseful way. There are plenty more storytelling treasures here.

That quote at the top of this post is a favorite of many Joan Didion fans. It comes at the beginning of her autobiographical essay, "The White Album" from a collection by the same name. The essays were written between 1968 and 1978. "The White Album" is the essay in which she writes about Charles Manson, meeting Jim Morrison and the Doors, and other tales of 1960s California. She demonstrates her unique gift for people-watching in these essays, and guess what: she "watches" her fictional characters as astutely. Through her descriptions of Lily, Everett, and Martha, along with insight into what they are thinking and how they are reacting, the story crescendos to that death I told you about (vaguely). "We tell ourselves stories in order to live..." and to understand how others live. The people of Run, River make mistakes and bad decisions and live their lives, and Joan Didion helps us understand them. Sometimes we read stories in order to understand life, don't you think?

 

Zora Neale Hurston, Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo"

Zora Neale Hurston, Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo.” (Amistad, 2018).

Zora Neale Hurston is known for her award-winning fiction and poetry, but her latest book is a precious gem of nonfiction. She was one of the stand-out writers of the Harlem Renaissance, and she informed her stories and poems with astute observations of the people and cultures about which she

wrote. She frequently set her stories in northern Florida where she grew up and transcribed her characters' speech to represent how they actually spoke. (This was innovative then, but we see it often now.) A trained cultural anthropologist, Hurston traveled in 1927 to Plateau, Alabama, near where she was born, to interview Cudjo Lewis.

Cudjo Lewis was the last survivor of the illegal slave trade. He arrived in Alabama aboard the Clotilda in 1860. Hurston tells two stories about Lewis in this important book. First, there’s Cudjo Lewis as an old man of 86, not sure he should trust Hurston, and not always forthcoming about his history. She visits him frequently, observing his daily routine, and her persistence pays off. He becomes somewhat comfortable with her, at least most days. The second thread winding through this book is Lewis’s personal tale of the slave traders violently capturing him (then known as Kossola) and some other people from his village and then the Middle Passage, their journey to the United States. His ship, the Clotilda, was the last slave ship out of Africa to cross the Atlantic Ocean. He and his countrymen were considered “cargo” and he remembers the awful experience clearly. Both stories, 1927 Cudjo and 1860 Kossola, are illuminating, gripping, and long overdue, appearing 91 years after Hurston’s interviews.

Zora Neale Hurston, Photographed by Carl Van Vechten, around the time she was working on Barracoon

THE LIBRARY BOOK by Susan Orlean

I read this book with my ears. I wished for photos and illustrations, but I just can't own every book I read. But I wanted this one. I really wanted this one, considering my 25-year history working in libraries and a lifetime of loving libraries and simply the idea of libraries. I read it with my ears, meaning I listened to the author read it as I drove around in my car. Susan Orlean is one of my top-shelf favorite Creative Nonfiction authors of all time, so it was a treat to hear her interpret her work just for me. Then my friend, Sue, a different Susan, told me that she got me a book for Christmas and she hoped I hadn't read it...and I pulled the red-covered book out of the wrapping... and gleefully shrieked, "I DID read it, BUT I really wanted to HAVE it!" I was so happy. After listening to Susan O.'s descriptions of the L.A. Public Library, and the person of interest who may have set it on fire, and other interesting personalities in the history of libraries, I now have photos of them and the correct spellings of their names, and I can re-read sections any time I want. I am so happy. YAY!

The Library Book, (Simon & Schuster, 2018), is the story of the big L.A. Library fire of 1986 told in-depth with information about events leading up to, stuff happening simultaneously, and things that happened after. That story alone is compelling, but I mentioned Susan Orlean writes Creative Nonfiction. She goes in and out of library history, and then back to the L.A. story, and never loses the reader's interest. I don't know if you are aware of this, but you can check with my friends who have heard my stories: libraries are not boring. Susan Orlean, lover of libraries, has done her research and interviewed people, and come up with fascinating stories to weave into the tale of the 1986 California fire.

Orlean pays homage to the institution of libraries, and the idea of libraries, and the movers and shakers of the library world, past and present. The Library Book got a lot of positive buzz in late 2018 when it was released and made it onto many end-of-the-year best-of lists. In this digital age, when I still get questions from the unenlightened about the future of libraries and librarians, this is sweet validation. (We'll always need human brains to organize information, retrieve it efficiently, and teach other humans how to retrieve it.) This is a treasure of a book and should be required reading (or listening) for everyone, enlightened or not.

A librarian reading The Library Book in a library

REALITY HUNGER: A MANIFESTO, by David Shields

Reality Hunger is a thought-provoking book. Nonfiction writers like me will probably come away from it thinking about where to draw the line between fiction and nonfiction. Should there be a line at all? Maybe a blurrier line? Do we need new forms or a new taxonomy? Are we obsessed with reality? (I think I am.) Non-writers will probably ponder how the books they read are put together. Did the author base this novel on facts, possibly autobiographical? Is this alleged nonfiction piece journalistically nonfiction? Consider the books you read, but the magazine articles, too, and the television you watch. (Reality TV!) True? Not true? Have you investigated? Are you skeptical?

Reality Hunger is made up of short, numbered entries that circle around a particular cryptically-named topic: Memory, Books for people who find television too slow, Contradiction, Thinking, Manifesto. Don't get too hung-up on the section titles, though, because the numbered entries are all interesting, even if the section titles are not inviting. Check this one out:

615 What actually happened is only raw material; what the writer makes of what happened is all that matters. 

This rings true for me, the creative nonfiction writer, because I take an experience, a thought, a place, or even the concert I'm watching on PBS right now, and create some analysis of it. It is a fact that I am watching the Vienna Philharmonic New Year's concert right now on my TV. You can't argue with that. To make this story my own, I have to provide some sort of analysis or reaction. You may disagree with me that this concert is an annual treat, but you can't disagree with me that I see it as an annual treat. Tonight's host, Hugh Bonneville (from Downton Abbey) was just standing in the Vienna Opera House!!! You may not be excited by Hugh Bonneville or the Vienna Opera, but I am because I am a Downton fan and I got to tour the Vienna Opera when I was there in 2015. I remember its opulence, and I remember being impressed at how important opera is to Viennese culture. While you may not agree with me or share my taste or travel history, but reading my thoughts, you understand why I enjoy watching this concert on TV. Maybe I haven't convinced you to watch it, but I have explained my music nerd-ness. Go back to #615 above and read it again.

The Vienna Opera on the Ringstrasse, 2015

573 To write only according to the rules laid down by masterpieces signifies that one is not a master but a pupil.

Think about Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms (staying in Austria) for example: if they hadn't broken the musical rules they were taught we probably wouldn't remember them today. They broke the rules and created new art that got attention. They were innovators! I chose this excerpt because it illustrates the concept in this book that got the biggest reaction out of me. At the end of the book is an Appendix. Here, the author, David Shields, explains that the numbered quotes were not all his original thought. Some are. Some, like #573 above, are not. Personally, I did not appreciate not knowing as I read the book that these were not all David Shields's thoughts. In fact, in the Appendix he writes, "However, Random House lawyers determined that it was necessary for me to provide a complete list of citations; the list follows (except of course for any sources I couldn't find or forgot along the way.)" He encourages the reader to tear these pages out and destroy them. WHAT?!?!?!?! I spend my life teaching college students how to cite their sources and why this is necessary. Unlike David Shields, I don't emphasize copyright. I tell students that it is important to cite borrowed material in case your reader or listener would like to follow up on some quote, and to read more. Here's a perfect example: #573 above is a quote from Prokofiev, a Twentieth-Century composer who will probably be included in one of my 2019 lectures. I'd love to know the context of this quote so that I can use it (and cite it), but I won't get that from Shields. I'll have to start from scratch to find where, when, and why Prokofiev said or wrote this sentence. All I find in the Appendix is that #573 came from Prokofiev. I'm not even sure if he's referring to Dmitri Prokofiev, the composer, or Fred Prokofiev, the barkeeper.

Aside from my disagreement with David Shields over the provenance of these quotes, I found this to be an intriguing, thought-provoking, and worthwhile book. I marked many of the quotes to re-visit when working on various upcoming projects, and some just to think about further. If you have an interest in writing, reading, truth, or fiction vs. nonfiction, get your hands on this book! (Just know that not all of the entries come from the same mind!)


 

THE SENSE OF AN ENDING by Julian Barnes

I don't know about you, but the end of the year I get reflective. I think about the previous year's successes and failures, pros and cons, hits and misses, and use these to plan the next year(s). My professional life, my writing, speaking, and my librarian gig, is governed by an academic calendar, but my personal life and learning are still attached to a traditional January-December schedule. This month being December, the month's blog book is about life, learning, and existential considerations, and I thought it would be a good choice to round out the year.

The Sense of an Ending is a novel with a unique form. The narrator, Tony Webster, introduces the reader to his school friends in some detail in Part One. There are Colin and Alex, his long-term friends, and then the noticeably brilliant Adrian Finn who manages to add himself to the trio. A quartet only briefly, each guy goes off to a different college and mostly lose touch, except that an old girlfriend of Tony's provides a link of sorts. Tony zooms through his middle age and we arrive at his retirement. This is where Part Two starts.

Tony the narrator reflects on his relationships in this section and how memory can be faulty. Evidence surfaces which takes Tony and the reader completely by surprise. This evidence makes a start at understanding why people have acted as they have, but as soon as the reader believes they've figured things out, more surprising details surface to shed new light on why people are how they are, and in one case why a person is at all. Oh, the novel is thick with surprises alright, and so many have to do with the slipperiness of memory.

I heard about this book at a memorial service. It was one of the last books the deceased English professor had read with his elderly eulogist. They loved the book, and that was enough of a recommendation for me. I relished imagining them in the elderly gentleman's apartment discussing the thoughtful novel with their intellectual ideas and wry observations. I live for those kinds of conversations over literature, music, art, and film, and wished I had known that my late colleague was such a devout reader! I purchased my copy of The Sense of an Ending and read it soon after, reflecting on how appropriate, or perhaps ironic, the title is. It's the kind of book I'll pick up again, I'm sure, and in it find new surprises and treasure.

STILL ALICE by Lisa Genova

This month's novel deals with a topic most of us don't want to think about. Perhaps we know a loved one who has or had Alzheimer's Disease, or maybe we live in fear that we'll get it ourselves. Either way, it helps to know how the disease works so that we can deal with it better. Knowledge is Power, right?

Still Alice (2009) is a compelling novel about a Harvard professor of Linguistics named Alice who finds herself increasingly confused and forgetful. She seeks medical help and her worst fears are confirmed. She has Early-Onset Alzheimer's Disease. Alice is a fictional character, but because of the nuanced character development here, readers will feel that they are inside the head of a living person. I heard Lisa Genova speak about the book recently, and she revealed that Alice is actually a composite of people she met who have the disease, and of the facets of her deep knowledge of how the brain works. She has a very interesting TED Talk here where she shares what she believes are the best ways to avoid getting Alzheimer's Disease. Reading books, attending classes, and generally acquiring new knowledge are examples of ways to ward it off, but you'll realize these did not work for the scholar Alice. Sometimes all the learning in the world can't combat what's already in the genes.

Lisa Genova is a neuroscientist and believes that she can educate people about brain diseases and conditions more effectively by attaching the symptoms and medical knowledge about the disease to a story. In this case, it is Alice who has Early-Onset Alzheimer's, but her other books explore realistically the facets of Huntingdon's Disease, brain injuries, and autism. Still Alice is her flagship book, though, and Julianne Moore won an Oscar for portraying the main character in the "Still Alice" movie!

Read this book for more understanding of Alzheimer's. It's all around us. If you haven't encountered it yet, you probably will, and the best way to deal is to know what is happening. In spite of its gloomy subject, it is a good read with rich detail and compelling characters.

DESIGNER YOU by Sarahlyn Bruck

This morning I woke up from a dream in which I was walking around my hometown library with a hamster. I was holding the squirmy creature in my hands and showing him or her the renovations the library had undergone, and explaining how the various areas used to look. I'd been using this library since age 10 and I worked there as a young librarian for seven years, so I was a good guide for this hamster. Upon waking, I thought how strange it was that I didn't have some kind of carrier for the little guy. In real life (IRL), when I transported my hamsters (usually from college to home and back), I would carry them in a clear ball, the same one in which they would roll around on the floor exploring whatever environment we found ourselves.

You're probably wondering why in the world I would start this blogpost about a novel with a hamster dream. I will make that point, I promise.

Designer You is the first published novel by my colleague at Bucks County Community College,

Professor Sarahlyn Bruck. As Sarah was working on this book, I would hear tidbits and clues about it, but the plot and characters didn't take shape until I began reading. I became absorbed in the story immediately. The protagonist, Pam, loses her husband early in the story (Chapter One, Page One to be exact), and the reader is compelled to read on to find out the details of this tragic death. Nate succumbed to an accident while he was building a rooftop deck for the family. After I read the details of this accident, I saw rooftop decks everywhere. Rooftop decks are a thing now, especially in urban areas. I asked Sarah about this, wondering where the idea came from, and knowing from social media that Sarah's husband was still alive and healthy. This hadn't happened to them, but while her husband was building an actual rooftop deck for their family, Sarah would worry that something terrible would happen. That worry turned into Nate's backstory.

All of this is tragic enough for our protagonist, but add to the story the fact that Pam and Nate are a well-known design and home-improvement team with books, TV appearances, and a line of stuff available through Lowe's. The name of their company is Designer You. Is Pam going to be able to keep Designer You going without Nate? Will she have to reinvent herself somehow?

Just like author Sarahlyn Bruck, Pam has a teenage daughter. This daughter has a hard time dealing with her dad's death and makes some really bad choices.These are NOT based on autobiographical elements. Other than their approximate ages, the author's real daughter and the fictional one don't share characteristics. Sarah brings that fictional girl to life, though and the relationship between mother and daughter is stunningly realistic. Will Pam be able to guide her daughter back onto the right path after some rather serious setbacks?

I'm not here to tell you how the story plays out, but I will say that the story remains compelling throughout. Pam has a lot to deal with ("When it rains, it pours") and although we recognize her feelings of self-doubt (we've all been there), she shows herself to be resourceful, agile, and strong. This is an authentic, contemporary story, rich with nuance, and as a bonus it is set in Philadelphia!

Are you still wondering about my hamster dream?

It occurred to me as I drove to work this morning (my car is my best thinking place) that when I read fiction and even some nonfiction, I'm like that hamster in a clear ball. I'm looking around at the world created by the author with all of the characters and places and nuances of detail. I'm safe in my bubble, too, permitted to safely check out the situations while the action happens. Thanks to Sarahlyn's elegant writing, I'm in the house with Pam and her daughter, I'm on the awkward date, and I'm in the basement with the contractor struggling to speak knowledgeably about that job.

Educated: A Memoir, by Tara Westover

As a librarian and avid devour-er of books, I like to recommend books to people. In this case, the tables were turned. This book was recommended to me by a friend who knows the kinds of books I like. She was right about this one! As soon as she told me about it, I started seeing it mentioned in my online book group and in the media. It made quite a splash this summer, and for good reason.

It's a memoir, so this is stuff that actually happened. "Duh," you say. But I feel I have to remind the reader that the protagonist's tales of an abusive and over-the-top religious childhood (I do not mean to imply that the two are related) fall into the category of "You Can't Make This Stuff Up." In education, we remind ourselves constantly that our students have to contend with many barriers and obstacles that we may not have encountered or even knew existed when we were in school. This is the case with Tara Westover, who was raised in a fundamentalist Mormon household. She and her siblings were supposed to have been homeschooled, but weren't at all. They learned how to work in their dad's scrapyard, roof sheds ('roof' is a verb there), or how to mix their mother's homeopathic, organic salves and concoctions. History, popular culture, math, and science were mysteries to them. Three out of the six (or seven) siblings somehow overcame these monumental educational deficiencies and earned PhDs.

Tara Westover compellingly describes her childhood, teenage years, and young adulthood. If you thought your parents were strict, wait until you read about hers! Along the way, Tara meets adults who see the promise in her intellectual curiosity and encourage her to learn. She's the quintessential autodidact, tutoring herself in ACT (standardized test) preparation so that she might get into a college. She does. There's no money, but she has so much promise that she is awarded scholarships through graduate school. Her struggle through education (and basic conformism) is astonishing.

Her other struggle is with her family. Her parents and most siblings do not approve of women pursuing an education. In fact, she is labelled a whore for not succumbing to their zealous beliefs and taking up residence in some husband's kitchen. They believe that she has gone to the devil and dis-own her. One of her brothers abuses her from childhood and even threatens to kill her. I'll let you find out from the book who condemns whom, who attempts reconciliations, and where schisms still exist at the end of the book. On the one hand it is heartbreaking. On the other hand, Tara is stronger and more intelligent for it. She has grit.

My favorite aspect of this book is Tara's discovery and enlightenment as she learns about history and popular culture. She made it all the way to college without knowing about the Holocaust. Are there other religions besides Mormonism? Science! Math! Music Theory! When she is upset and needs a break from the stress of reality, she binge-watches old television shows. Imagine making discoveries like these for the first time! Her education is multi-faceted, not academic alone.

Read this book. Educated: A Memoir, by Tara Westover.

The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes by Rick Bass

I met Rick Bass once, at Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle. I was in town for a writers' conference, and he was in town to promote his most recent book, The Wild Marsh (2009), which aroused my interest because I frequently walk around in marshes. He actually lives IN a marsh, and this book told the story of making the decision to move into the remote Yaak Valley in Montana, and what it is like to live there. I remember having a lovely conversation with this man who I hadn't read yet, and vowed to look into his other books and essays. He encouraged me to write my book about the seashore marsh I know well. It turns out he has a long bibliography, and since that meeting his name pops up frequently as a model of nonfiction writing. He writes fiction, too.

As my recent summers have been somewhat on the hectic side, I vowed that this year would be the summer of calm, relaxing reading. I was not so misguided as to think I'd work through my to-be-read piles, but at least I could read some books I've been meaning to get to. As of today, August 1, I have read or listened to twelve books, some from the to-be-read pile and some that I recently became aware of.

Rick Bass's The Traveling Feast: On the Road and at the Table with My Heroes is brand new and got my attention because there's a chapter on Rick Bass having dinner with Joyce Carol Oates. I read three of her books this summer, so far.

Each chapter of Bass's book chronicles a meeting between him and an author he admires in which Bass prepares a meal for the writer in their own kitchen. Bass is accompanied by one of two students that he mentors on each of these journeys, or his daughter, Lowry. "I just want my mentees to see what greatness looks like," he writes on pages 119-120. He got in just under the wire with Peter Matthiessen, the double National Book Award Winner (for fiction AND nonfiction) who died soon after. Barry Lopez, David Sedaris (in England), and John Berger (in Switzerland) are three of the nonfiction authors I've enjoyed reading, and I found the descriptions of their meals with Bass hilarious. Something always goes wrong, and it is fun to see how these gifted authors cope with culinary adversity. Bass doesn't profess to be a gifted chef, but he knows what he is doing in the kitchen and even serves many of his "guests" elk meat that he killed and butchered himself. This is what one does in the Yaak Valley wilderness. One of his students, Erin,

often brings dried morel mushrooms from her home in Oregon.

There are sixteen such chapters which include Amy Hempel, Russell Chatham, Lorrie Moore, and Terry Tempest Williams among others. Some of the authors were new to me, but after reading about their meals with Bass I feel like I know them and I've noticed their names in my general reading about writing and books. these are all writers' writers, if you know what I mean.

The chapter on Joyce Carol Oates was a fun one. Bass and his entourage did not cook for her. Instead they met at a local restaurant and had their mishaps there. I'm not going to tell the story here, but I will warn you that if ever you find yourself at dinner with JCO, do not take her picture while she is eating.

How to Change Your Mind by Michael Pollan

Summer is a time for reading. Although I have a list of books waiting for me that would stretch from Trenton to Belmar, NJ, sometimes I hear about something and just have to pick it up and devour it. Such was the case with How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence, (Penguin, 2018), or, as I've been calling it, "The LSD Book." Michael Pollan is one of my favorite nonfiction writers, and as I'm working on an essay which might or might not tangentally mention psychedelic influences on music and art, I thought this book would provide me with a good background. It did that, and so much more.

I don't want to give away the whole book, but you can see by the subtitle I just mentioned that Pollan will be discussing how LSD and other similar drugs could be used to treat depression, anxiety, and addiction among other situations. Some folks claim it even helped them come to terms with their inevitable death (existential distress). All of that is fascinating. And well documented by Pollan, of course. We're not talking about LSD and psilocybin as party drugs here, mostly; psychedelics didn't get their illicit reputation until research money dried up in the 1960s and the drugs and the study of them went underground. For those interested in the brain science, it's here too, and it is clear enough for this Humanities person to understand.

What is especially fascinating in this book is that Pollan himself experiments with LSD, magic mushrooms, something called "The Toad," and other psychedelics, usually under the supervision of

an experienced ("sober") guide, and after conducting his usual meticulous research. (If someone said to him, "Michael, how can you make this story unique to you?" He nailed it.) As I, personally, have no desire to experiment with such substances (they are not without risk), my knowledge feels enhanced by Pollan's compelling, detailed, honest explanations of his trips. I can't imagine that he has left anything out. He details how he decides which substance to try, how much of a dose, and how he decides on the perfect guide. Surprising to me is how important the location of the trip will be. Novices are encouraged to bring items of their own into the environment and to choose music. (This is where the 'transcendence' of the subtitle comes in.) The process is fascinating before we even learn about how one becomes "one" with music or art or nature. That this kind of experience is being studied as a treatment for anxiety, depression, addiction, and other problems gives the drugs some credibility. You decide--don't believe me.

I was engrossed by this book from start to finish, and I'm pretty sure I told all the friends I encountered during my reading about it, eagerly. I read a lot, and I talk to people (lots of people), and I thought I knew a thing or two. But once I started talking about this book and psychedelics I learned so much more and had some intriguing conversations. You should read this book. If you've read any Michael Pollan before (The Omnivore's Dilemma or The Botany of Desire among others), you know that his prose sails smoothly through sparkling waters and you'll enjoy the trip (no pun intended).

Pollan is showing up all over the media and there are many interviews by reputable outlets on YouTube. Here's a short interview from CBS This Morning:

The Lady and the Monk: Four Seasons in Kyoto by Pico Iyer

Pico Iyer chooses his words carefully. He has access to the same English language words we have, but he strings them as pearls creating sophisticated, elegant prose. Owing to his cosmopolitan background, he has a collection of jewels to enhance that pearl-string: words from other languages and accessible jargon from aesthetics and art make his writing as clear as recently Windexed glass. Even his name is elegant and unique. No extra vowels or consonants. No extra syllables.

Along with his high-brow cosmopolitan brilliance though, Iyer reveals himself as a hardcore Bruce Springsteen fan in this book. I felt that needed to be said.

The Lady and the Monk: Four Seasons in Kyoto is an exquisite memoir from Iyer's visit to Kyoto, Osaka, and Nagasaki. In Kyoto he befriended a local woman who taught him about Japanese culture and made him aware of Easter, Japanese, and local perspectives and cultures. It's a remarkable and unexpected friendship. Iyer created the setting masterfully:a mysterious Japanese Zen Buddhism world of kimonos, tea ceremonies, monasteries, and the moon. With his descriptive language he introduces the reader to characters he encounters. There are laugh-out-loud moments, and sad, poignant experiences.

The original "The Lady and the Monk" is a folk tale that Iyer tells his Japanese friend in one of those poignant moments. The tale comes back at least twice as a kind of veiled trope. On the surface, this is a masterful piece of literature, but I felt throughout that I was somehow supposed to be reading between the lines for even deeper meaning. I was inspired to read a little about Iyer's life, and this small bit of knowledge gained two-thirds through the book enhanced my enjoyment of it. I wish I could read the book again for the very first time so that I could re-enter that curious world again as a gaijin (foreigner).

In Other Words by Jhumpa Lahiri

The Italian text is on the left side and the English translation is on the facing page. The translations from Italian to English are not, however, by the author, who happens to be a native English speaker. She hired a translator to move her newly-acquired Italian text into her own native tongue. Huh?

The author is Pulitzer Prize-winning Jhumpa Lahiri who wrote Interpreter of Maladies and The Namesake and other books. She fell in love with the Italian language as a young traveler and twenty years after that decided to embark on a challenging experiment: she would learn Italian, really learn it, by immersing herself in Italian culture and speaking English only to her family. This involved moving her family to Rome

where she would begin to read and write only in Italian. This includes reading the classic literature in that language. Anyone who has attempted to learn a new language for a trip abroad will recognize the magnitude of this endeavor. I can get by in Germany or Austria with my limited German (mostly nouns, mostly food words), and in France with my simple French  sentences and phrases. That's only one side of it, though, making myself understood. I can order Schnitzel, and waffles with chocolate, and get the water without bubbles. I can find my way through the Paris Metro, ask for the check in a restaurant, and get the water without bubbles there, too, but what if a German or French speaker is trying to make themselves understood to me? They speak fast, use tenses I haven't studied, and know way more nouns than I do. Lahiri's project is admirable.

The reason she embarked upon this journey was to learn to express herself using new words and language. As writers would say, she wanted to find a new voice. The book has an open ending, one in which Lahiri ponders which language she will use when she returns to the United States. She leaves the door open for Italian, but I think I'm hearing a possible preference for English. Either way, she anticipates a feeling of loss for the Italian language once she is no longer immersed in it.

This book was recommended reading for a writing class I took, and I used it in my own class to illustrate the power of words and the arbitrariness of the sounds we put together to form language. Lahiri has found new words for everything and learned to string them together to make a fascinating book. I wish I had thought of this idea...well, maybe not.

Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson

If you like big books full of fascinating information about genius innovators who changed the world in which we live, then this is a book for you to pick up right now. Walter Isaacson has outdone himself with this da Vinci tome. Each chapter is a treat. We may think of Leonardo as an artist, but please don't forget he was an inventor, engineer, musician, and stager of pageants. I wasn't aware of that last thing, but I was astonished at how many times it was his skills staging pageants that got him noticed by prospective employers (dukes, kings, and popes, FYI).

I picked up this book because I was working on a 3-week Lifelong Learning course on the European Renaissance. I like to include details that my students may not be familiar with, and recent information. That this book had plenty of interesting lesser-known details was no surprise given Isaacson's reputation for fine research. But it also supplied me with the compelling account of the painting, "La Bella Principessa," newly discovered in New York. Paralleling da Vinci's own penchant for combining art and science or technology, Isaacson walks us through the process for authenticating paintings believed to have been created by a particular artist. I don't want to spoil the outcome should you be convinced to read the book, but I'll just say there's a crime lab involved, and infared photography, and good old-fashioned critical thinking.

Did you know Leonardo was a pioneer of oil painting and used multiple thin layers of oil paint to create his distinctive effects? Parts of the Mona Lisa's face were created with thirty thin layers of oil paint to give her that luminous look.

Leonardo saved his ideas either in words or sketches in books we now know as Leonardo's Notebooks. these books are actually Commonplace Books, a concept used by many historical thinkers (including Thomas Jefferson and Sherlock Holmes!). These books tend to be smash-ups of ideas, and work like slow cookers for ideas and inspiration. I based my nonfiction writing course on the Commonplace Book, requiring that my students keep a designated notebook in which they add research, observations, free-writing, and ideas for their assigned Long Essay. I assure them that if they check in with their Commonplace Books daily, they will indeed be slow-cooking their ideas. Imagine my joy at reading about Leonardo's notebooks, AKA Commonplace Books, AKA Zibaldone. Isaacson spent an early chapter describing this practice. I feel validated.

Did you know Leonard invented musical instruments and played them well? He invented this Viola organista below. It sounds like a gang of stringed instruments, but it is played with a keyboard which runs a bow over the strings.

Perhaps Leonardo preferred to think of himself as an engineer or inventor, but the truth is he was a phenomenal painter. This books pages are printed on fine, heavy paper, which shows off the details of his awesome work. The book has some weight to it, literally and figuratively. It is a treasure.

Paul Theroux's The Last Train to Zona Verde: My Ultimate African Safari

We had a Nor'Easter Friday. A Nor'Easter is a specific kind of storm that travels from the southern Atlantic coast to the north and is often dangerous. This one was--I heard on the news that nine people died in this storm, and most of them from falling trees. As the windy storm circled above my home and work, there were strong wind gusts and lots of precipitation. At work I removed from my car about two inches of heavy snow, but at home, thirty minutes away, there was only rain. Lots of rain. At my top-secret seashore location, wind gusts were reported at 68 miles per hour. Talk on Facebook among local friends centered around sump pumps and lost power. I was lucky in that I did not lose power this time or find a soggy basement, but nonetheless found myself seeking escapist entertainment as a distraction. First, an Oscar-nominated movie with an element of ridiculous fantasy but good acting, and then an old-fashioned, print-on-paper, hefty, intellectually-inspiring, book. I thought of my powerless friends and hoped they took this opportunity to read a book since I think not enough people seek book-companionship on a regular basis. Some are still without power, so if they happen to have car-charged their phones, here's a suggestion I predict will take their minds off the inconvenience of the loss of electricity.

Paul Theroux, The Last Train to Zona Verde: My Ultimate African Safari (NY: Mariner, 2013)

Theroux begins this journey in comfortable Cape Town, South Africa, and moves Northwest through Namibia, across the border to Angola. As he moves north, and as I follow in my atlas, he moves away from comfortable civilization and becomes aware of profound poverty and despair. The border crossing between Namibia and Angola is particularly difficult, harassing, and brutal, but Theroux

finds a guide who helps him navigate the crooked agents and their monetary expectations. Once across, he finds another guide to shepherd him to his hotel in Ondjiva. As he did almost forty years earlier in The Great Railway Bazaar in Europe and Asia, Theroux has speaking engagements along the way which keep income flowing. In Lubango in Angola, Theroux becomes a part-time teacher at the university: “Nothing is more satisfying in travel than to land in a place and assume an occupation, even a temporary one, as a teacher; to cease being a voyeur and have a purpose and routine, especially one that involved interacting with intelligent students.” (p. 259)

Unlike in the earlier book, Theroux is now concerned about his age. In 1975 he navigated the obstacles of travel nimbly and with a hopeful sense of adventure. The sense of adventure is still with him in Africa in the 2013 book, but it is less hopeful and increasingly hopeless. He admits that. He’s preoccupied with his age (70) and questions the wisdom of such a trip frequently throughout the book. He takes gout pills. He is concerned about his own mortality now, and often updates the reader about people he met along the way who died soon after. He wonders if this will be his last big solo trip. “There was a finality in my way of looking now, a gaze with more remembering in it.” (p. 80) At one point his identity is stolen and over $40,000 is charged to his credit card, maxing it out and making it useless to him. He describes the experience as demoralizing.

This book is less a train book and more of a transportation book. There are railroad journeys in Africa, but he sometimes connects with buses and hired Land Cruisers. One of these Land Cruisers breaks down in a desolate bush village where there is nothing to eat but an old woman’s leathery chicken legs covered with black flies that she’s selling from a pail. Although he had resigned himself to going without food, he eventually relents and consumes the chewy meat. It’s a sad scene, but Theroux claws his way out of the funk by asking about the distant drumbeats he hears coming from the next village. It turns out to be a four-day festival for girls entering womanhood, and he finds a local expert to interview and an interpreter who can translate from the local language into Italian for him. Before the Land Cruiser is fixed he has the opportunity to go to the village and meet some of the young women. The travel writer found an exclusive story, but it didn’t come easy. Theroux stated that this was his purpose in coming to Africa, to spend a night and day like that. It was rewarding for him and it’s a compelling part of the book.

Ultimately, Theroux is headed for Luanda, on Angola’s Atlantic Coast. He calls Luanda an ‘improvised’ city. “Going deeper into Luanda meant traveling into madness.” (p. 304) It’s uncomfortable reading because it is such a risky place for our 70-year-old hero. He recognizes that Angola is a rich country, rich from diamonds, gold, and oil, but its corrupt government ignores its poor people. Although he had hoped to travel to Timbuktu on this trip, he realizes he has had enough in Luanda. Political issues in Mali and between Angola and Mali prevent him from completing that itinerary. He’s not even tempted by the new Chinese-built train to Malanje, and decides to skip additional slummy cities (he admits he hates cities anyway and prefers rural landscapes with people in them) and head back to Cape Town and then home: “As I grow older, the consolations of home take on a deeper meaning.” Boy, do I know what he means. One of my writing students chose this book as her Creative-Nonfiction-which-includes-research assignment, and I can't wait to find out how this twenty-something navigates Theroux's thoughts on age.

While there are portions of this trip that Theroux finds fulfilling, the girls’ festival in the village, and his teaching, there are many more that he finds challenging, demoralizing, and uncomfortable. A younger Theroux may have found these same things to be delicious challenges. He admits he often thought he might die in his last three trips. In his last paragraph he hints at what’s coming next, a look at the poor in the American South.