Magazines That Question the Status Quo

The mainstream press in the U.S. is still woefully inadequate, and biased in favor of the status quo. Newspapers are better than radio and TV news, but still lacking. I am very grateful that there are magazines dedicated to giving readers a fuller and more critical (in the sense of not accepting official statements and representations at face value) coverage of national and world news. For this great service, I thank, commend, and recommend the following magazines, among others: In These Times, Mother Jones, Ms. Magazine, The Nation, The Progressive, The UTNE Reader, and Z Magazine. Most of these also have websites that give a sense of the types of articles published in the magazines.

Anthony Bourdain Returns

Some of you have likely read Anthony Bourdain's 2000 bestseller about restaurants, "Kitchen Confidential." That behind-the-scenes description of restaurant kitchens and the restaurant world was funny, snarky, and a bit frightening. His new book, "Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook" (HarperCollins, 2010) is a bit mellower, as Bourdain by his own description has renounced the on-the-edge life he used to live, has settled down with his new family, and has a calmer, more tolerant attitude toward life. He still has a wicked tongue, though, and hasn't given up his racy vocabulary either. This new book is a mixed bag, more like a collection of short pieces than a coherent whole. Some of the pieces are pretty thin, but a few -- especially portraits of specific individual chefs and/or their restaurants -- are fascinating. My favorites -- although I don't always agree with Bourdain's opinions -- are his descriptions of Alice Waters (of the iconic Chez Panisse restaurant in Berkeley), Thomas Keller (of the French Laundry restaurant in the Napa Valley and Per Se in New York), Grant Achatz (and his famous Chicago restaurant, Alinea), Alan Richman (food and restaurant critic/writer), Erik Hopfinger (and the TV show, Top Chef), and David Chang (of the New York City Momofuku restaurants). There is also a riveting description of Justo Thomas,the man in charge of preparing upwards of 700 pounds of fish every day at the New York restaurant, Le Bernadin, considered by many to be the best seafood restaurant in the USA. If you are interested in the restaurant world, you will find much to enjoy in this new Bourdain volume; you can skim over the weaker pieces that seem a bit like "filler." And if you are looking for other books about that world, you may want to look at my 2/4/10 post with its annotated list of some of my favorite books about food, restaurants and chefs.

Great Fiction as an Antidote to Loneliness

The late writer David Foster Wallace said that really good fiction can make readers feel less lonely. This comment really struck a chord in me. Almost any decent fiction can absorb readers, entertain them, inform them, involve them, pass the time for them, and more. But only great fiction can make readers feel truly connected (echoes of E. M. Forster) to the characters, as if they were real, and to their thoughts, emotions, dilemmas, fragilities and strengths. And through and beyond the connections to characters, readers of great fiction then feel connected to something larger: to humanity itself, to all the inhabitants of this earth, in a spiritual, even transcendent way. Thinking about this, I am reminded yet again of the amazing gift that great writers and great literature provide to readers, and to humanity.

The Mitford Sisters

The five Mitford sisters, born and raised in an upper class family in early 20th century England, had an unconventional childhood dominated by an eccentric father. They were bright, but went in completely different directions. Nancy Mitford (1904-1973) was the author of amusing, gently satirical, often somewhat autobiographical novels about the British upper class, such as "The Pursuit of Love," "Love in a Cold Climate," and "Don't Tell Alfred." I have thoroughly enjoyed these delightful novels and have read some of them more than once over the years. Jessica Mitford (1917-1996) was a one-time Communist and longtime leftist who worked for civil rights and did much investigative reporting, most famously on the American funeral industry, in a book titled "The American Way of Death." She spent much of her life in Oakland, California, and I was fortunate to hear her speak and to meet and chat with her a little at the reception afterward at my university. Two of the other sisters, Unity and Diane, went in the completely opposite direction, being politically of the British Fascist Party and both close friends of Hitler's. Only the fifth sister, Deborah, led a fairly "normal" life. It is startling to see how one set of sisters, who despite everything, remained (mostly) close to each other, went in such shockingly different directions.

Separate Literary Prizes for Women -- Good or Bad Idea?

In my post yesterday, I quoted A. S. Byatt as saying that women who write smart, demanding novels are seen as unnatural. In the same Guardian online article, and elsewhere, Byatt was quoted as disapproving of the Orange Prize, a British prize for women writers. I can see Byatt's point about its being demeaning to have a separate prize for women, but I disagree with her. Since the playing field in literature, like that in most areas, is still not completely level, I am in favor of anything which helps to highlight great literature by women writers. I am equally in favor of the many other targeted prizes, such as those for British Commonwealth writers, those for writers of certain nationalities or ethnicities, and those for writers under thirty.

A. S. Byatt Speaks Her Mind

According to the Guardian UK online (8/20/10), the esteemed English novelist A. S. Byatt recently stated that women who write "smart, demanding novels are perceived by critics as strange and unnatural." As a feminist, I am aware of and alert to slights of, or mistreatment of, women, including women writers. However, as a reader of many book reviews and critical pieces, I don't really see this as a widespread issue any more, although it clearly was in the past. Perhaps in England, where Byatt lives, this is more true? Or perhaps she is sensitive because although her novel "Possession" was highly praised and is her best-known novel, her recent novel "The Children's Book" received mixed reviews? I personally liked "Possession," but abandoned "The Children's Book" after a few chapters. I am of course willing to admit that Byatt knows more about this than I do, both from her own experience and from being a part of the literary world, but I can't decide whether she is right about this topic, or whether it is her own issue, so to speak.

Bad Dad. Really Bad.

Despite my complaining about Lily King's novel "The English Teacher," I went ahead and read "The Pleasing Hour," and blogged about both novels (on 7/23/10 and 7/29/10). Now I have just finished her latest, "Father of the Rain" (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2010), but I had to pick myself up by the scruff of my neck to push myself to finish it. What is it about this author that brings me back, but at the same time makes me feel so reluctant to keep going when I read her work? She writes beautifully and is obviously a major talent. But her main topic -- family dysfunction -- makes her fiction painful to read. In this novel, Gardiner Amory is alcoholic and cruel to his wives and children; he is also charming in a WASPy way, and manipulative. King's achievement is to show his awfulness without resorting to (many) dramatic scenes. Things seem to be going fine for a while, and then a sudden horribly cruel remark or a hard slap remind us that -- despite our hopes, and those of his daughter Daley -- it is highly unlikely that Gardiner will ever change. Daley keeps trying to help him, though, even -- at least for a while -- giving up a prized job and a loving boyfriend in order to do so. She can't accept that her childhood and family were so rotten, and she wants to change things by sheer desire and effort. Needless to say, it doesn't work. Readers will root for Daley, at the same time that they want to tell her, "Stop! Don't give up your own life and future for him!" Fortunately she does learn this lesson finally, and there is even a sort of feeble reconciliation at the end of the novel.