"Swim Back to Me"

“Swim Back to Me” (Knopf, 2011) is a collection of short stories by Ann Packer, author of the well-received 2002 novel, “The Dive from Clausen’s Pier.” That novel was riveting, and these stories are as well. These stories display even more complex, mature writing than the novel did. Every single story is not only compelling but also very real and very wise. The fact that the stories are set in Northern California, especially Palo Alto and Berkeley, is of course of interest to me, and the stories certainly draw on certain aspects of those locales. But really they transcend any certain setting. The longest story (actually a novella) is the first one, “Walk for Mankind,” narrated by a young, insecure boy, Richard, whose mother has just left his professor father and who has become enmeshed in an increasingly complicated and ambiguous friendship with Sasha, a girl who recently moved to his Palo Alto neighborhood, and with her friendly and welcoming but somewhat odd family. The story is beautifully observant and acutely painful in the way the world of early adolescence often is. The last story, “Things Said or Done,” unexpectedly returns some forty years later to the character Sasha and her family, showing us the reverberations of the personalities from, and the events set in motion in, the earlier story. The characters in all six stories are sharply drawn. Marriages and families are the focus in most of the stories. These stories are all heartbreaking, even tragic, in various ways, yet portray redemption, or at least the possibility of redemption, as well. As an aside: I recently heard the author interviewed on the radio, and was quite impressed by her, as I was by these emotionally engaging, insightful, beautifully written stories.

Tribute to a Dear Friend

Today I attended the memorial service for my dear friend of 40 years, C. Her death is a huge loss for me and for so many of her family and friends, as was evidenced by the beautiful and heartfelt tributes and stories at the memorial service. I write about her here today because she was one of my best "reading friends" (among the many wonderful aspects of our friendship); I wrote here about her, and the love for books that we shared, on 2/16/10. She was also kind enough to contribute, at my invitation, two illuminating guest blogs, one on re-reading favorite books (on 10/17/10) and one on her love of Japan and haiku (on 10/18/10). In addition, she was very supportive of this blog, not only reading it regularly and sending encouraging comments, but also recommending it to her many friends. Over the 40 years of our friendship, we mostly lived on different coasts, but were always in close contact, with visits, letters, emails, and phone calls flowing back and forth across the country. We often talked about books, recommended books to each other, and gave each other books. Just a few days ago, I thought about a certain book: "Oh, C. would like this book...I have to tell her about it," and then sadly remembered that I can no longer do so. She was a very special person -- brilliant, high-achieving, kind, caring, talented, artistic, well-traveled, and more -- and a great friend. I miss her -- and will continue to miss her -- more than I can say.

"Abide With Me"

I very much liked Elizabeth Strout’s 2008 collection of interconnected stories, “Olive Kittredge.” I have now just listened to her 2006 novel, “Abide With Me” (Random House, 2006) on CD. It is the story of a young minister, Tyler Caskey, who works in a small town in New England in the 1950s. His wife has died, and one of his small daughters is having a very hard time adjusting to losing her mother. Although Tyler is popular with his congregation, a confluence of events causes him to feel beset, worn down, and less confident of his place with this group of people in this small town. The author expertly demonstrates how a good situation can become shaky and threatened, almost before anyone realizes what is happening, and how generally good people can make very human mistakes and not realize the consequences of those mistakes. Tyler is both an admirable and likable character who struggles with his humanity and that of others. He is deeply connected to God and committed to his ministry, yet has his weaknesses, doubts, and fears. The story is about God, the spirit, human nature, family, communities, the toll of grief, the difficulties of adjusting to change, the vulnerability of children, the dangers of gossip, and more. Strout’s characters are very well drawn, believable, sad, and all too human.

Another Memoir from the Restaurant World

I have written several times – e.g., 2/4/10, 6/29/10, and 8/31/10 – on food and restaurant literature, including memoirs. “Blood, Bones, & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef” (Random House, 2011) is Gabrielle Hamilton’s memoir about her life and her work as the owner/chef of Prune, a well-regarded New York City restaurant. But long before she gets to the part about Prune, she writes of her life in food, beginning with the feasts her parents would put on for dozens of people, and proceeding to her first restaurant job at the age of thirteen, her travels, and her years of work in restaurants and in the catering business. She also writes of her life and relationships, although these portrayals are odd in some ways: she rarely sees or writes about her parents after they divorced when she was a teenager, she only stayed close to one of her four siblings, and she writes almost too candidly about the serious problems in her relationship with her husband. (She doesn’t mention being divorced from him, but at the end of the book she intimates that divorce may be approaching.) She writes of her life as a mother of two young children and the owner of a hugely time-consuming restaurant, and of the difficult issue for women chefs of whether they can commit to this grueling business and still have personal lives, including children. One has to admire Hamilton’s toughness and can-do attitude, and her belief that just working harder and being willing to do without sleep are what it takes to succeed as a working mother; still, I wish she had acknowledged that the problems should not just be for each individual woman to solve, but are partly societal, and that there is a systemic lack of support for working women and families. Hamilton is a good writer who has an MFA degree from the University of Michigan; she has always written, and derived comfort and satisfaction from writing. The book could have been edited a bit more carefully, however; for example, the author overuses – almost like a tic – the phrase “kind of,” enough to make the reader (this reader, anyway) repeatedly cringe. Overall, though, this is an interesting and readable memoir about a strong, motivated woman who learned early on that her passion was food, and feeding people well.

Books in My Family

I have written before about my parents' love of reading and books. On 3/10/10 I wrote of the pleasure of supplying my mother with books now that she has more time to read. On 12/30/10, I wrote of my late father's lifelong love of reading. A recent visit to my mom's house reminded me of how fortunate I am to have always been surrounded by books in my parents' various homes over the years, and how long after I left home, when I visited them (and still visit my mom), I loved seeing all their books around us. This visit, I was thinking about the sheer variety of books they bought, were given, read, and kept. There are medical books (general medicine, surgery, psychiatry, etc.) (my dad was a physician), fiction, poetry, plays, biographies, art books, self-help books, books on music, reference books, books about India (where I grew up), cookbooks, books by friends (and by their daughter!), and more. All were acquired for information, education, and enjoyment. My parents were not "collectors"; they didn't think about first editions or rare books. They were unpretentious about their books; for example, there are some Readers Digest Condensed books among all the others. Most of the books are hardcover but there are plenty of paperbacks as well. My dad did have a special interest in reference books, atlases, and sets of "great books." Books are scattered around the house in various tall and short bookcases: in the living room, in what was my dad's "office" (study), and in all the bedrooms. They are a comfortable part of the decor and environment of the house. On some level I took this -- being surrounded by books all my life -- for granted, but on another level, I always appreciated and loved this great treasure trove of wonderful books of all kinds. Not only were my brothers and I influenced by this constant background of books, but also the grandchildren noticed them from the time they were small, and often took down a children's book, an art book, or an atlas to look at. And now that my niece has two small sons, and I recently saw a look of joy on the older son's face when he opened the gift of a book, I am happy about the legacy of reading's being passed down through four generations of the family my parents created and nurtured.

"Binocular Vision"

Wow, wow, wow! “Wow” is perhaps not a literary term, but it describes the way I feel about Edith Pearlman’s “Binocular Vision: New and Selected Stories” (Lookout Books, 2011). Why haven't I heard of this amazing writer before? I just stumbled across a review of her work, and the reviewer pointed out that Pearlman is a writer who is not as well known as she should be. In her introduction to this volume, Ann Patchett (a wonderful writer herself) instructs us to “put [Pearlman’s] stories beside those of John Updike and Alice Munro. That’s where they belong.” It sounds like hyperbole, but she is not far off, in my opinion. Patchett goes on to tell us that she once had occasion to read one of Pearlman’s stories, “Self-Reliance,” aloud 20 times. She said that the more she read it, “the more it bloomed .... when I had read it 20 times, I could see that it was flawless. Every word in every sentence was indispensable, every observation subtle and complex.... Every time I thought I had mastered all of the nuances, the story offered up another part of itself to me.” Patchett goes on to write of the “richness” and “depth of spirit” in Pearlman’s stories. I echo everything Patchett says; I savored every story, and found, as Patchett did, that each story was rich and complex. The stories range in locale from Russia to London to Central Europe to Central America, with many taking place in the fictional Godolphin, Massachusetts. They also range through 20th century history. The characters are diverse, and often whole lives are lived in one story. A few of the stories share overlapping characters. One of the pleasures of these stories is that many of the characters are older, yet still vital, and carry their whole rich histories within them. As I get older myself, I value this inclusion and these perspectives. The stories are also bursting with families, lovers, friends, and colleagues. These small masterpieces are compelling, engaging, and layered. They are beautifully constructed and written. Highly recommended!

Literary Event on Campus

I very much enjoy attending literary events at the University of San Francisco, the campus where I teach. Two days ago, in the late afternoon, I had the pleasure of hearing three faculty writers from our university reading from their new books. Tracy Seeley read from "My Ruby Slippers: The Road Back to Kansas"; Ryan Van Meter read from "If You Knew Then What I Know Now"; and Lisa Catherine Harper read from "A Double Life: Discovering Motherhood." All three said in their introductory remarks that their books were hard to classify; they seemed to fall under the umbrella of creative nonfiction, with elements of memoir and other genres. The three books are very different in subject matter and style, yet they share strong personal voices and compelling prose. Besides enjoying and savoring the readings themselves, I liked looking around at the others in the audience, especially the students, and seeing them respond with pleasure to the readings. The sense of shared pleasure was enhanced by the light pouring in through the many tall windows, as well as by the refreshments served; these elements added to the atmosphere of celebrating literature, especially literature created by our very own colleagues/professors. And to think that I only had to walk a few steps from my office to enjoy this literary experience!