Yet Another "Modern Day Austen"?

Author Allegra Goodman has been dubbed, as have far too many women writers, a "modern day Austen." Her new novel, "The Cookbook Collector," certainly embodies echoes of Austen; it is old-fashioned in the best sense, telling detailed, character-driven stories of family and the search for love. Her main characters are two sisters, Emily and Jess, who are reminiscent of sisters Elinor and Marianne in Austen's "Sense and Sensibility." Emily -- like Elinor -- is the calm, centered older sister; she is the CEO of a tech start-up company. Jess -- like Marianne -- is the more unfocused, more emotion-driven younger sister; she is a dropout from a Berkeley doctoral program in philosophy, a member of "Save the Trees," and a bookstore clerk. But this novel is very contemporary as well, being set in the midst of the tech world on the East Coast and in Silicon Valley. Featured are computer geniuses, start-up tech businesses, sudden multimillionaires, the rises and falls of the stock market, and the events of 9/11. The title alludes to another main character, George, who has made his fortune in technology, is a collector of rare books, and has discovered and acquired an amazing collection of antique cookbooks. The passages on the cookbooks, and on some memorable meals consumed by Goodman's characters, are lyrical and compelling. Goodman is a wonderful writer, and I admire her combination of the classic "big" nineteenth-century-style novel and contemporary topics. But I can't accept the comparison to Austen, not only because NO writer has risen to the level of Austen (I firmly believe that she is sui generis), but also because Goodman doesn't achieve Austen's acute understanding of her characters, nor Austen's delicate but pointed wit.

The New York Times Book Section a Boys' Club?

A Slate article (http://www.slate.com/id/2265910/) poses the question "Is the New York Times' book section really a boys' club?" ("Fact-Checking the Franzenfreude," 9/2/10). (Thanks, B., for drawing this article to my attention). The answer seems to be "yes." The article cites several studies showing that almost two-thirds of books reviewed in the NYT are by men. A related question discussed in the article is whether certain categories of books are gendered. For example, looking at genre fiction, the article notes that legal thrillers and science fiction, more often written by men, are more respected than "chick lit" and romance novels, almost always written by women. The writer Jennifer Weiner (whose recent novel, "Fly Away Home," I posted about on 8/11/10) wonders if Nick Hornby, Jonathan Tropper, and David Nicholls (whose novel "One Day" I posted about on 8/16/10) might be considered "chick lit" writers if they were women. I have read novels by all three of these writers, all of which could be classified as forms of domestic drama, so Weiner's point definitely resonates with me. This article is sobering, reminding us that although there are many women writing and publishing, this does not guarantee equal treatment of their work; it also reminds us that equal treatment is elusive, because bias is sometimes subtle, hard to pin down, and deeply rooted.

A Love Affair Between -- A Woman and a Park?

I seem to have become an Ayelet Waldman fan. On 7/18/10, I posted about her book on motherhood, "Bad Mother." On 7/28/10, I wrote about her novel "Red Hook Road." Now I have just finished listening (in my car, as usual) to the audio version of her novel "Love and Other Impossible Pursuits" (Random House, 2006; Books on Tape, 2006); I enjoyed it. It is set in New York; the main character, Emilia, is a Harvard-educated lawyer who is married to a man -- Jack, another lawyer -- with whom she fell head over heels in love, despite the fact that he was married when she met him. The couple suffers the tragic loss of their newborn child, and Emilia falls apart. She also has trouble with her role as stepmother to the young (ages 3-5 during the course of the novel), very precocious William, as well as with William's mother Carolyn, who is of course Jack's ex-wife. Emilia is both likable and maddening; she suffers, she is snarky, and she causes much drama, including screaming fights with various people, notably her father, whom she is still angry at because he divorced her mother a few years earlier. Emilia is a character who is so smart in so many ways, yet so blind about her relationships. I won't tell you how it all works out, but it is good reading. One aspect that sets this novel apart is Emilia's lifelong love affair with Central Park, which is not only the setting for many scenes in the novel, but a sort of main character as well. I enjoyed the detailed descriptions of the park; they weren't guidebook-like, but instead blended naturally into the storytelling.

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.