"Miss Kansas City"

Joan Frank, a San Francisco Bay Area resident, has written four works of fiction. (She has also written at least one book of nonfiction.) I wrote about three of them on 7/6/10 and 7/11/10. Now I have read the fourth one (the second one to be published), “Miss Kansas City” (University of Michigan Press, 2006); this novel won a literary prize from the University of Michigan. (I also feel a slight connection to the book through its publisher, which is the publisher of my most recent book as well, although my book is academic rather than fiction.) This novel shares some characteristics with Frank’s other three books of fiction (one novel and two short story collections): much of it takes place in the San Francisco area (of which Frank writes wonderful descriptions, including a lovely one of the swirling fog patterns just north of the Golden Gate Bridge, something which I see almost every day on my way to work); the main characters are mostly female; the characters tend to be damaged or at least bruised by life, as well as lonely; and the characters are often aimless and unsure of what to do next, and often don’t live up to their potential. In “Miss Kansas City,” a woman in her late twenties, Alex, has moved to the SF Bay Area and taken a respectable but dull job editing software manuals. She makes no friends, but gets involved with a successful married man, and in classic fashion, wants and dreams of much more from the relationship than he ever considers giving; this is obviously a situation with no happy ending possible. Other characters include Skip, the excessively good-looking receptionist at the company where Alex works, and Mort, Alex's nervous and repressed boss there. Both of these men are gay but closeted, at least at the company. Then there is Alex’s sister Maddie, who lives back east and is both supportive of and worried about Alex; she has her own problems at home with her husband. The sisters are forever affected by and bonded by their sad childhood experiences. An important theme in this novel is the tension between the human need for solitude and the equally human need for connection with others. Despite much sadness and depression all around, the ending of “Miss Kansas City” is, mercifully, cautiously positive.

In Memory of My Father, a Great Reader

My wonderful father, Dr. John Vandrick, died seven years ago today, December 30th. During this holiday season, at Thanksgiving and again just a few days ago on Christmas Day, I was very happy to be with my family: my husband, daughter, mother, two of my three brothers (the third lives too far away to join us every year) and their wives and children. But as we sat around the dinner table for these holidays, we all missed my beloved father, who used to sit at the head of the table and carve and serve the turkey, and who used to be “Santa” handing out gifts around the Christmas tree. He was a very good man and a very good father, and I remember and miss him for so many reasons, but here I will focus on our shared love of reading. My dad read a lot. I remember him sitting at his desk in his study, reading medical books. I remember him sitting in various armchairs in various living rooms over the years, reading a wide variety of fiction and nonfiction. I remember how he ordered many books through book clubs and catalogues, and I remember the multiple bookcases, large and small, full of books on many topics, in almost every room in every house he lived in. I remember our conversations about books. I remember that when I recommended a book, he would actually find and read it. I remember exchanging books at Christmas and for birthdays. I remember how he would carefully read and comment on my own published articles and books. I know that if he were still alive, he would read this blog and give me interested and encouraging responses. Most of all, I remember how he enjoyed reading, and was always so interested in what he learned from what he read. In reading, as in so many other areas, he was a great role model.

Family History: My Daughter Interviews Judith Viorst

When my daughter M. was ten years old (she is now in her 20s), she was asked by the local children’s newspaper to interview the author Judith Viorst. Viorst is the author of many children’s books, the most famous of which is “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day,” as well as of nonfiction, poetry, and journalism for adults. I took M. to the hotel in downtown San Francisco where Viorst was staying, and sat in a corner of the room during the interview. I noted that Viorst was crisp and matter-of-fact with adults (the newspaper staff), but was warm, gracious, and encouraging with my daughter. She even gave M. her phone number to call in case she had further questions; M. never took her up on the offer, but it was a kind gesture. The interview went well, with Viorst giving thoughtful, generous answers to M.’s questions. It was published the following month. Naturally, as a doting mom, I kept a copy of the interview, and have just now dug it out from my files and enjoyed re-reading it. Meeting and interviewing Viorst, and then seeing her interview in print, was an exciting experience for M. It was also good for her, as it is for all children, to see that an actual, real person wrote the books she had been reading and had had read to her. Thank you, Judith Viorst, for providing this experience for my daughter! And I am glad to see, on checking online, that Viorst is still writing and publishing; her most recent book, one on turning eighty years old, was published this year.

"World and Town"

Gish Jen’s fiction is a perfect example of the increasing multiculturalization of American literature; her novels and short stories are (mostly) about immigrant families, and families of mixed ethnic and religious backgrounds. Her fiction closely observes the everyday lives, issues, problems, and tensions of such families and their members. It also explores the benefits and pleasures of discovering the differences and the similarities in those of other cultures than one’s own. Jen writes seriously about serious situations, but there is always a wryness, a sense of humor underlying and informing her fiction. In her latest novel, “World and Town” (Knopf, 2010), her wonderful and completely nonstereotyped, unpredictable main character is a sixtyish woman named Hattie, whose parents were a white missionary mother and a Chinese father; Hattie grew up both in China and in the U.S., and lived her adult life in the U.S. Both her husband and her best friend have recently died, and she has moved to the outskirts of a small town, where her neighbors are a Cambodian family of recent refugees. She becomes involved with their family problems as well as their successes. She also tries to figure out how she feels about the reappearance in her life of a lover from her youth. Jen’s multiple and various characters are entirely original, unlike those in any other novel I have read recently, yet very understandable and (mostly!) sympathetic. The issues explored in the novel are current, yet the novel never feels like an “issue” novel. The book also has much to show us about small towns and about community. “World and Town” manages to be heartwarming without at all veering into sentimentality. Highly recommended.

Short Hiatus for the Holidays

StephanieVandrickReads will go on a short hiatus (perhaps 4 days) for Christmas. I wish my readers very happy holidays! And I thank you for reading this blog and allowing me to share my book-related thoughts and experiences with you this past year.

William Trevor's "Selected Stories"

The New York Times critic Charles McGrath states that William Trevor and Alice Munro are the two greatest living short story writers, and I heartily agree with this assessment (I have written more than once here of my admiration – even love – for Alice Munro’s fiction), with only the proviso that V.S. Pritchett be included as the third in the trio. A second volume (the first was in 1992) of Trevor’s collected short stories has recently been issued: “Selected Stories” (Viking, 2009). This hefty volume is made up of 48 stories from four of his books: “After Rain,” “The Hill Bachelors,” “A Bit on the Side,” and “Cheating at Canasta.” Trevor is Irish, and has lived both in Ireland and England; his stories are set in both countries. One of the many pleasures of the stories is some of the Irish-sounding titles, such as “The Potato Dealer,” “Justina’s Priest,” and “Graillis’s Legacy.” Reading, and in many cases re-reading (as I had read some of the original volumes from which these stories are collected), these stories reminds me of the way they capture aspects of human nature in quiet, unassuming but beautiful prose. McGrath’s 11/28/10 New York Times review of the new collection emphasizes the way the essential aspects of human life as portrayed by Trevor stay the same: the stories are “not modernist, but neither are they antique. They are almost literally timeless”; I think this assessment gets at the essence of Trevor’s fiction. His settings are often small towns, and often the “events” of the story are everyday, quotidian, focusing on revealing character more than on dramatic plots. However, occasionally a sudden change comes into a character’s life, and we learn about the character, as well as about the others around her or him, from the way she or he responds to that change. The language is descriptive but in a low-key, straightforward way. Every word seems just right, but not in a fussy, precious way. The author is both very present through his voice, yet self-effacing. When I read his perfect stories, I think of him as a sort of brilliant but quiet uncle who tells the best, wisest, and most compelling stories one can imagine.

A Touching Christmas Story

I have been thinking about Christmas stories in literature, and the one that keeps coming to mind is the first two chapters in Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women." As I posted on 5/9/10, I have always loved this novel, although upon re-reading it in adulthood I was surprised by how didactic it was. Still, its classic portrayal of a family of girls -- especially the intrepid Jo -- has a certain magic attraction. The novel begins with an introduction of the four girls as they prepare for Christmas. Their family is educated but genteelly poor. Their father is away at war (the Civil War) as a chaplain and their mother does good works for charities. The girls would love Christmas treats for themselves, but choose to use their small amounts of money to buy their mother gifts. Then when their mother suggests giving their special, much anticipated Christmas breakfast to a very poor, very hungry family with six children, they hesitate a moment and then agree, cheerfully taking the breakfast over and feeding it to the little children. The girls feel happy about their sacrifice, and their mother is proud of them. They are rewarded that evening by the unexpected gift of a feast sent over by their rich neighbor, Mr. Lawrence. This story, like the whole novel, is moralistic and schematic, but readers -- at least this reader -- can't help being touched and even inspired by its old-fashioned sweetness and emphasis on doing the right thing. Christmas in this story truly is a time of giving.

Balvenie Thinks the Best Writers are Male

I have written a few times (e.g., 8/26/10, 8/27/10, 9/4/10, 9/15/10, 11/15/10) on the issue of gender in the publishing and judging of literature. We all know that women throughout history had a far harder time writing, being published, and being well reviewed, at least up until the past 30-40 years. The question is how much matters have or haven't improved during those years. An October 2010 Harper's ad (p. 5) for "The Balvenie," a maker of scotch whiskey, states that "For 160 years, Harper's Magazine has published fiction and nonfiction by some of the world's most renowned authors. The Balvenie is pleased to bring to you [on its website] a selection of these pieces from writers who have helped define world literature since 1850, including Horatio Alger, Hans Christian Andersen, Lewis Carroll, Winston Churchill, Joseph Conrad, Stephen A. Douglas, Henry James, Rudyard Kipling, Jack London, Theodore Roosevelt, Sinclair Lewis, Mark Twain." The claim about "world literature" seems questionable when all the authors are American or British, except for one lone Dane. And the authors are all male and white! Not only male, but mostly of the tough, "manly man" variety -- e.g., Churchill, Conrad, Kipling, London, Roosevelt. Granted, most of these authors wrote during the days before there were a large number of women or minority writers being published in the U.S., where Harper's is based, but "The Balvenie" could definitely have found a few such authors in Harper's' archives if they had wanted to. Perhaps they were going for a masculine, men-sitting-in-deep-armchairs-in-a-men's-club-library-sipping-scotch vibe? And perhaps a woman author on their list -- or in that imagined library -- would disturb that cozy-but-macho picture? It's "just" an ad, and perhaps I shouldn't read too much into it, or take it personally, but each such experience is a reminder, a pinprick of annoyance, even sadness, and those pinpricks accumulate....

"The Bigness of the World"

“The Bigness of the World” (University of Georgia Press, 2009; paperback 2010), by Lori Ostlund, is a wonderful collection of short stories. Each story is a precise, pointed, original, small gem. I love being surprised, and these stories are surprising, not in a strange, avant garde or experimental way, but in the sense of being unpredictable, yet very believable. The characters are intriguing; the reader feels she knows them, and yet doesn’t quite know them after all. And the characters care for each other -- family members, lovers, friends, even strangers -- but often find out they don’t know each other very well either. This feeling is captured in the last line of the story “And Down He Went”: “[A]t each turn, the people we hold close elude us, living their other lives, the lives that we can never know.” Ostlund grew up in Minnesota and has lived in Spain, Malaysia, and New Mexico, and traveled to many other places; many of her characters are also originally from Minnesota, and her stories take place in some of the same places she has traveled. This makes for a combination of a sort of Midwestern, calm politeness with a traveler’s stolid adaptability to the vicissitudes of world travel. But the characters also have a tendency to be unhappy, and the (mostly lesbian, mostly fortyish) couples have a tendency to be on their way to breaking up. Many of the characters are teachers, and as an English instructor myself, I enjoyed the humorous yet deadpan depictions of the importance of correct grammar to some of these teacher characters. I find myself wanting to write in detail about each of these eleven compelling stories, to illustrate how terrific they are, but I also don’t want to give away all the twists and turns and surprises, because I really hope you will find this book and read these stories for yourself. But I will list some of the titles, which will give you a sense of the unpredictability of the stories: “Talking Fowl with My Father,” “Nobody Walks to the Mennonites,” “Upon Completion of Baldness,” and “The Children Beneath the Seats” are a few of them. This collection, Ostlund’s first book, won the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction, and has received several other recognitions. On a more personal note, I am pleased to note that Ostlund is now a resident of San Francisco.

"The Ask"

I was only vaguely familiar with the name of the author Sam Lipsyte, until I recently read a review of his new novel, “The Ask” (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010) and decided to check it out. I think what drew me in was the main character’s having a job in the development office of a university (which the character, Milo, calls Mediocre U.); I am, as I have written before, drawn to academic novels. The academic aspect turned out to be a minor part of the story, and at first I wasn’t sure how I felt about the character or the narrative, both of which could be off-putting, but I kept reading and became absorbed in the story. Milo is a classic sad sack/loser type. He is smart and somewhat talented, and is not a bad guy, but he has a gift for undermining his own success. True, he has been dealt some bad (but nothing close to catastrophic) hands, but he isn’t very good at coping with them. He is funny and very self-aware, and despite his ongoing propensity for getting into sticky and awkward situations, he is good company. Somehow he disarms the reader. And by the rather anti-climactic but quietly satisfying ending of the story, he has more or less accepted the negatives and made the most of the positives in his life, which include his very young son, his return to painting, and an unexpected financial windfall. For some reason, this character and this novel remind me of a sort of gender role meld: the character and the novel itself are brash and trying to be tough, but are actually very vulnerable and aware of human foibles and fallibilities, and at times could even be considered “sensitive.” Yin and yang? Or simply a sign of the times: less stereotypically gendered literature? (I am fully aware that I too am stereotyping gender roles for literature as well, but those -- as I have written about here before -- are often, although far from always, very easily discernible in fiction, for better or for worse.)

Feminist YA Titles

Jessica Stites' article in the Fall 2010 issue of Ms. magazine, "Kick-Ass Girls & Feminist Boys," states that some YA (Young Adult) fiction "offers fabulous fantasies of how the world should be." The article acknowledges predecessors such as "Little Women," "Anne of Green Gables," and the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. It then praises current YA fiction that addresses girls' fall-off in self-esteem at puberty. Such books provide role models and heroines; they are "full of girls performing amazing physical feats...YA can be both escape and succor." Many YA novels also address issues that often affect teens, such as rape, eating disorders, racism, sexism, and war. Ms.' YA recommendations include Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games," Nancy Garden's "Annie on My Mind," Patricia C. Wrede's "Dealing with Dragons," Nnedi Okorafor's "The Shadow Speaker," and Scott Westerfeld's "Uglies." I of course believe in the power of fiction to educate, support, console, and encourage, and I applaud YA authors who address teen issues in a responsible, egalitarian way. I do sometimes wonder about books that are too shaped by an issue rather than by literary goals, but fortunately the best books can and do combine the two.

My Perfect Morning at the (Independent!) Bookstore

I have several times blogged about the importance of supporting independent bookstores, most recently in my 12/1/10 post urging readers to buy their holiday gifts at bookstores. I have been following my own advice the past couple of weeks with several visits to two of my favorite indy bookstores, Books, Inc. (in Laurel Village in San Francisco), and Book Passage (in Corte Madera, near where I live in Marin County), where I have purchased several book gifts with great satisfaction. As an example of the joys of shopping in indy bookstores, let me describe a recent morning visit to Book Passage, a beautiful, spacious, airy, bustling, friendly bookstore. I took my gift list, but I had some uncertainty about what to buy a certain relative. I browsed a bit, found a couple of possibilities, but then asked the wonderful Janelle a question about a certain genre of books, to get some leads. She immediately started asking me further questions about the person and what she usually liked to read, began thinking, and eyeballed certain shelves for ideas. She had an ah-ha moment of inspiration and took me to the book, explaining why she thought it might be appropriate. It was perfect! Then she had another idea, and again explained the story and why it might be a good match. Again, it was perfect! Both were books I had very peripherally heard about, but had never read, didn't know much about, and wouldn't have thought of on my own. Janelle did all this cheerfully, with genuine engagement and apparent pleasure in the task, and never made me feel she was in a hurry to finish or do something else. To me, she epitomized what is wonderful about independent bookstores: she was extremely knowledgeable about books, helpful, and generous with her personalized attention. Another bookstore employee wrapped my gifts (such a boon for a terribly clumsy -- and a bit lazy -- gift wrapper like me!) I browsed a little more, and then finished my morning at Book Passage with a delicious latte and the newspaper in their cafe. Now that is my kind of morning!

Jane Austen's Birthday Today

I have posted several times -- most recently two days ago -- about various aspects of Jane Austen and my love for her work. Today I simply want to point out that she was born on this day in 1775. As I think about her life, I am sad that it took so long for publishers to recognize her as an author, and to publish her work; I am even sadder that she only lived long enough to write six complete novels. She died at the much too early age of 41; if only she had had another twenty or thirty years or more to write! But most of all, I celebrate and am deeply grateful for her unparalleled novels, a gift from her to us over two centuries later.

The Writer's Almanac today has a piece on Austen which is worth reading. The link is below. If it doesn't work, just Google the Writer's Almanac for today, 12/16/10.

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

Guest Blog: Romance, Regret, and Book Gifts

On 7/8/10, I wrote about how my friend "Z" connected a certain author ("A") with a certain time in his life and a certain romantic relationship (with "Y"), because he and "Y" had read "A"'s work together and even met her at an author event. After splitting up with "Y," "Z" no longer read "A"'s work, because of the association. "Z" has now kindly written a guest post with further thoughts and experiences related to connections between certain books and certain romantic relationships (see below). I think you will find the post as intriguing as I do; the intersections of literature, romance, regret, and memory are most evocative. Thanks, "Z"!

From "Z":
"Over the years, amid my growing library are books given to me by past loves and lovers. They all share one thing in common: a note from them on the front-piece or the first page. Some signed off "with all my love," or "love you." Others referred to a shared intimacy or moment. A confession is in order though. Depending on the memories of how these relationships ended, I have done several things to these books. I left several alone because I enjoy reading their sentiments from time to time and recall the exact circumstances of receiving the book. Other books fared less well. The most extreme are the one or two (or three??) I tossed out or sold because I couldn't stand to look at even the book's spine sitting there on one of my shelves, reminding me of love's failures, or rather love's disappointments and regrets. The compromise I reached with the other books was to tear out the page on which the sentiment was written. It wasn't because they were less emotionally connected, but it was simply because I like the book and wanted to keep it, minus the reminder of who had given it to me. However, I remember all gifted books, so the missing page with its sentiments in some ways is all the more present by its absence."

Shields on Austen

Readers of this blog know that my most-loved author is Jane Austen. It's not original, but that's the way it is. I have read each of her six completed novels over and over and over. A few years ago, I picked up a small (185 pages in a petite format) biography of Jane Austen by the late and much-mourned Carol Shields (Viking, 2001), one of my favorite contemporary writers (see my 2/20/10 post on Shields). A couple of days ago, emptying a bookshelf to move it for some flooring work at our house, I came across it again, and smiled to myself. I read it before with such delight; what could be better than one wonderful writer writing about another? Shields obviously loves Austen as well; she writes with such affection and insight about her life and work. This lovely book is part of a lovely series, the Penguin Lives; its subjects are writers, artists, and historical figures. The books are brief and accessible but not dumbed-down; they are written by some of the best contemporary authors. Writers have obviously been carefully matched with their subjects. Besides the Shields book, I have read Jane Smiley's contribution to the series, on Dickens, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Other books in the series include Edmund White on Marcel Proust, Elizabeth Hardwick on Herman Melville, Nigel Nicolson on Virginia Woolf, R.W.B. Lewis on Dante, Janet Malcolm on Anton Chekhov, Hilton Als on James Baldwin, and Mary Gordon (another of my favorite writers) on Joan of Arc, to name just a few. Now I think I will go and re-read Carol Shields on Jane Austen...a pleasure to look forward to!

Picture Books Forever!

The New York Times Book Review of 12/5/10 mentions a recent news story that “the tyranny of standardized testing has stoked anxiety among some parents, who feel they must press chapter books on their offspring at increasingly younger ages, thus diminishing the market for picture books and causing publishers to prune their lists accordingly.” This is completely wrongheaded and extremely saddening. Any parent, teacher, author, child psychologist, kid, or former kid knows that picture books are joyful fun for young children, and stimulate the imagination and the enjoyment of books. Who can forget being read to by our parents or other adults, or reading to our children, such picture books as the following classics? (Some of my personal favorites are starred.)
-Goodnight Moon*
-Babar series
-Dr. Seuss books
-Corduroy series*
-Angelina Ballerina series
-Jamberry*
-Brown Bear, Brown Bear
-Frances series (e.g., Bread and Jam for Frances)*
-Curious George
-George and Martha series*
-Madeline
-Make Way for Ducklings
-The Snowy Day
-Peter Rabbit books
-The Very Hungry Caterpillar
-Where the Wild Things Are
-The Polar Express
-Miss Nelson is Missing
-Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
-Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile
-and many many more...

"The Imperfectionists"

Wow! Who is Tom Rachman, and how did he learn to write so well? Granted, he has been a journalist for some years, but "The Imperfectionists" (Dial, 2010) is his first published novel, and it shows amazing control of his material. It builds on some classic topics and themes -- most notably that of the American abroad -- but it is highly original and most compelling. There is not one main character; instead there are many, all connected by being somehow involved with an international newspaper owned by Americans but published in Rome. There are reporters, editors, owners, stringers, spouses and partners, and one lovable dog. Each chapter focuses on one character, but brings in other characters from other chapters. The story ranges over a period of 50 years, and although dates are given, it is sometimes hard to keep track of whose story overlaps whose. Each chapter is a mini-masterpiece. Each character is vivid and illuminated through carefully etched, generous portraits, yet not a word is wasted. A common theme is that of people who stumble into a job and a life and somehow get in a rut it is psychologically hard to escape. Rachman obviously knows this setting and material inside out, not surprising since he also worked for an international newspaper in Paris and was a correspondent in Rome. But the novel goes far beyond the facts, deep into the lives and souls of the characters. Highly recommended.

"Celebrity Chekhov"

"Celebrity Chekhov" (Harper Perennial, 2010) is a collection of nineteen of Chekhov's stories "adapted and celebritized" by Ben Greenman, a New Yorker editor and author of several volumes of fiction. The conceit of the book is that Greenman takes the Chekhov stories as starting points, including plots and much of Chekhov's original (well, translated) language, but substitutes celebrities of today for the characters, and makes other adjustments as needed. Some of the celebrities that now "star" in Chekhov's stories are Michael Douglas, Jack Nicholson, Adam Sandler, Simon Cowell, Eminem, Nicole Kidman, Beyonce, Lindsay Lohan, Jay-Z, Paris Hilton, Justin Timberlake, and several more...you get the picture. This is obviously a quirky book; as I was reading it, I couldn't decide if it was "quirky brilliant" or "quirky gimmicky." Although it is a real pleasure to revisit Chekhov's stories, and the melancholy wisdom they contain, it is jarring to encounter denizens of US Magazine in these beloved stories. I understand the author's concept of reinvigorating our appreciation of the stories, reminding us of the timelessness and universality of the human feelings and relationships Chekhov portrays. I also appreciate the gentle -- and sometimes not-so-gentle -- humor that Greenman teases out of the original stories and enhances with his own interpretations. I must admit that the book was enjoyable to read, but overall I have to conclude that the experiment is an intriguing but failed effort. However, other readers may well conclude otherwise, so if the concept appeals to you at all, do check it out; it is a quick read, and you will soon know what you think (although some of the best stories are in the middle to later parts of the book, so don't stop too soon).

Ten Favorite Books of 2010

Seeing several versions of "The Best Books of 2010" in various publications, I was inspired to make my own list of my favorite books published in 2010. The list is perhaps idiosyncratic and is quite biased in certain ways: the books included are all fiction, nine of the ten are by women, and all lean toward "domestic drama" and the character- and relationship-driven books that I favor. I have posted on all of these books on this blog, so without further ado, I list my "Ten Best from Twenty-Ten."

All is Forgotten, Nothing is Lost, by Lan Samantha Chang
The Gin Closet, by Leslie Jamison
The Hand That First Held Mine, by Maggie O'Farrell
In Envy Country: Stories, by Joan Frank
The Lovers, by Vendela Vida
Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson
One Day, by David Nicholls
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender
Red Hook Road, by Ayelet Waldman
The Three Weissmanns of Westport, by Cathleen Schine

My Literary Umbrella

On this rainy day in San Francisco, I have been carrying a special, lovely, big, sturdy umbrella given to me some years ago by my dear friend B. It is special because it has on its panels intricate drawings of eight famous women writers: Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, Emma Lazarus, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Louisa May Alcott, Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, and Sylvia Plath. I thoroughly enjoy using this umbrella, and I often get admiring comments on it. With other more ordinary umbrellas, I don't mind much if I lend them or lose them. But I take extra good care to make sure I don't leave or lose this one. When I am using it, I always check before I leave a classroom, office, shop, or restaurant to make sure I haven't left it behind. Yes, an umbrella is a simple, utilitarian item, but mine is a depiction of some great literary women, and it gives me pleasure to use it, and to receive compliments on it. Thanks, B!

"America America"

Ethan Canin's novel "America America" (Random House, 2008) features the time-honored device of a young outsider observing and reporting on life among the rich and powerful. Corey Sifter comes from a working class family, but works for and is taken under the wing of the wealthy Metarey family. That family provides support for New York Senator Henry Bonwiller's 1972 run for the Democratic nomination for President of the United States. As Corey is drawn into the Metarey family and its dynamics and secrets, he is also witness to both the good and bad aspects of the candidate and the campaign. Senator Bonwiller is a great progressive, a champion of the working class and minorities, and a voice against the Vietnam War. But he has his weaknesses as well, and is brought down by a sex scandal clearly reminiscent of that of Senator Edward Kennedy and of the tragic accident at Chappaquiddick in which Mary Jo Kopechne lost her life. The book is occasionally a bit portentous in style; the novel moves back and forth through time, and there is a little too much both of the young Corey's mysterious comments about the future, and of the current narration by the much older Corey, saying things like "if only I had known then..." or "later I would realize..." But overall the writing is good, and the story draws the reader in. The novel is an interesting and sobering reminder of the events of the 1960s and 1970s, especially for readers who remember that time period. There are several well-drawn and intriguing characters. Most of all, the novel is an extended meditation on who has power in a society, and on how it is acquired, kept, and then sometimes lost.

Writing about Food Memories

On 2/4/10 I posted about some of my favorite books on food and restaurants. Almost everyone -- not just food professionals -- has wonderful food memories evoking important times and connections in her or his life. I was recently reminded of this when I asked students in a writing class to write about a meal or dish that was significant in their lives. I asked them to describe the food itself (good practice in focusing on details) and what the meal meant to them (good practice in making larger connections). It was a topic they could all relate to, and they did some of the very best writing they had done all semester. Most of the stories had to do with family meals or specific dishes -- from dumplings to pickled vegetables to paella -- cooked by mothers, fathers, and grandparents, and symbolizing the importance and warmth of family gatherings and family ties. A couple of them had to do with meals created in students' newly independent days away from their families, as they formed their new communities with college friends. For many of the writers, these meals and dishes clearly symbolized love, caring, and connection. In all cases, the writers not only told but also showed the reader how and why these meals or dishes were important to them, and how the associated memories reverberated through the years.

Hi-Lo Books

Having a new teenaged family connection from a different country who is still working on her English, I decided to investigate hi-lo books that might interest her. Hi-lo stands for high interest, low reading level. These books are for readers who, for various reasons, read below grade level. They may also be "reluctant readers." The idea is to get kids to read books that they are interested in and that they can handle. Such books are written for various ages from middle school through high school. A typical book for teenagers would be for age 12+ but at a reading level of grades 2-4. Hi-lo books are short -- 400-1200 words -- with many illustrations. Successful hi-lo books have engaging characters; interesting, fast-moving plots; short, simple sentences; limited vocabulary; and straightforward stories with no complications such as flashbacks. Readers should be able to relate to the characters and stories. The covers, layouts, and typefaces should be clear, yet not appear childish or "different" from regular books, something young people are very wary of. These books are not literary masterpieces, and lack complexity and nuance, but they do get young people to read, and the hope is that as they read more, they will eventually read more complex books. I am in favor of anything that gets kids to read more, so I salute the writers and publishers of hi-lo books.

Literature about AIDS

Yesterday, December 1, was World AIDS Day, which made me think about the important contribution that literature about AIDS has made. Here I list some of the most well-known such novels, poetry, plays, and memoirs.

-Doty, Mark. Heaven's Coast (memoir)
-Gunn, Thom. The Man with Night Sweats (some of the poems in this collection)
-Gurganus, Allan. Plays Well with Others (novel)
-Hoffman, Amy. Hospital Time (memoir)
-Kramer, Larry. Angels in America (play); The Normal Heart (play)
-Maupin, Armistead. Tales of the City (which I blogged about on 11/30/10) (some of the later novels in the series)
-Monette, Paul. Borrowed Time (memoir); Afterlife (novel); Halfway Home (novel); Love Alone: 18 Elegies for Rog (poetry)
-Schulman, Sarah. People in Trouble (novel)
-White, Edmund. The Farewell Symphony (novel); The Married Man (novel)

Give Books for the Holidays!

Now that we have enjoyed Thanksgiving, the holiday shopping season has begun. As you are planning gifts for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or other holidays, please consider buying books for many or most of those on your gift list. We need to support book publishing! And there are books for everyone with every interest. Further, please buy those books from independent bookstores. We really need to support those wonderful bookstores (see my 2/11/10 post for several reasons why). Your holiday spending could make a difference in the survival of these great cultural and literary resources, these bookstores that are suffering from large chains moving in and undercutting them, as well as suffering from the current economic problems. So, make an afternoon of it: go to your favorite independent bookstore with your gift list, browse, ask the knowledgeable salespeople for suggestions, get your books gift wrapped, and you are all set! And maybe pick something up for yourself while you are there...