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.
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.
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.
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.
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:
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).
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.
