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/