Carl Sagan on Books

A Facebook friend posted this wonderful quotation on books from Carl Sagan:

"What an astonishing thing a book is. It's a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiqqles. But one glance at it and you're inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

"How To Be Black," by Baratunde Thurston

Baratunde Thurston’s “How To Be Black” (Harper, 2012) is, as one might expect from an “Onion” writer, a deft combination of humor and the serious. Tongue firmly in cheek, Thurston addresses not only racism, but also the discomfort that both African-Americans and those of other races – mainly white – often feel in talking about race. His chapter titles include “When Did You First Realize You Were Black?”, “How Black Are You?”, “Do You Know What an Oreo Is?”, “How to Be The Black Friend,” and “How to Be the Angry Negro.” Thurston includes many stories from his own life, stories that show the balancing act he has lived, and that inform his writing of this book. He grew up in 1980s Washington, D.C.; his father was shot during a drug deal when Thurston was six years old; his mother was a “hippie” and activist who made sure her son got an excellent education, attending an exclusive private school (Sidwell Friends) and at the same time attending a Saturday group on black history and culture (Ankobia). She wanted him to know and be proud of his black ancestry and culture, and at the same time to be comfortable anywhere in society. He went to Harvard; a multi-talented person, he now is, among other things, a blogger for Jack and Jill Politics and a writer for the Onion. There are so many pages I want to quote from, but just for one small sample: In the chapter “How to Be the Black Employee,” Thurston writes that once a black person is hired, he/she is expected not only to do the job she/he was hired for, but also a. to represent all black people; b. to prove that the company is not racist; and c. to “increase the coolness of the office environment.” As part of Job B, the black employee must join the ubiquitous “diversity committee”; the author states that “the primary functions of the diversity committee are to establish meetings, generate reports, and use the word ‘diversity.’” As someone who has, over the years –- like you, probably –- seen and perhaps been part of various diversity committees at various institutions (job, school, professional organization), all well intentioned, I have to smile at his description. Thurston intends this book to inform and to provoke thought and understanding; he uses humor as the vehicle, and does so very effectively.

"Make It Stay," by Joan Frank

Joan Frank’s brief new novel, “Make It Stay” (Permanent Press, 2012) is a meditation on friendship, marriage, what changes and what doesn’t, aging, and mortality. The main characters are two couples portrayed over a period of decades: the narrator, named Rae, her Scottish husband Neil, Neil’s best friend Mike, and Mike’s wife Tilda. They live in an idyllic small town in Northern California, where Mike -- an outsized (physically and socially) character -- befriends Neil (along with everyone else around). Neil is grateful to Mike for “adopting” him when he first moved to the area. Rae likes Mike but is a little cautious around him, and also has to be careful not to criticize him to Neil. Tilda is a somewhat unreadable and odd character; she and Mike don’t seem to fit together, and she and Rae do not get along well, although they preserve an amicable surface with each other for the sake of their husbands. The story ends in loss and sadness, yet the surviving characters have learned to treasure the life they have and its reassuring pleasures and joys. There is a bit of mystery about some of the characters and events, but the main themes of the novel are the vagaries of friendship and marriage, and -- as reviewer Elizabeth Benedict wrote -- “the frightening fragility of life.” Nothing can, in the long run, "make it stay" the same; life marches on. The author is particularly good at portraying the ups and downs of marriage, and the wonderful comfort that a longtime marriage can provide, if one is fortunate. Although Rae married late, and initially felt the marriage was possibly a mistake, she grew into it. “Against ridiculous odds we became a thing: part him, part me. All I know is it had to do with time” (p. 12). As someone married a long time myself, this resonates with me. As an aside, I enjoyed -- in this novel as in Frank’s earlier fiction (see my posts of 7/6/10 and 7/11/10) -- the Northern California setting; although she creates a fictitious town, it is redolent of areas and towns north of San Francisco that I have visited.

"Carry the One," by Carol Anshaw

“Carry the One” (Simon & Schuster, 2012), a novel by Carol Anshaw, is a sad but engrossing story of a group of young people who in 1983 were involved in a car accident that killed a young girl. For the rest of their lives, these (mostly related) characters remember and mourn the accident, and respond to it in different ways in their life choices and activities. Olivia, the driver, who was high at the time of the accident, chooses to go to prison; she doesn’t fight the case. Her boyfriend Nick, a gifted astronomer, loses himself in drugs and drink. His sister Alice, a talented painter, keeps painting the young girl at various stages of her life, as she imagines them. Their sister Carmen is an activist, fighting for every liberal cause, at the risk of her own safety. The way the characters are affected by, and deal with the aftermath of, the accident is one theme; the way their lives interweave over the years is another. The three siblings are united by their knowledge of their parents’ shortcomings, and by their fierce loyalty to each other. For example, Alice and Carmen, despite knowing how hopeless their efforts are, keep rescuing their brother Nick over and over again from the consequences of his horrific drug and alcohol binges. For most of the characters, there is some partial redemption by the end of the story, albeit redemption hard-earned over many years. And despite its sad premises, there is much else to savor in the novel: well-drawn characters, romance, love of family, art, travel, suspense, the ups and downs of the characters' lives, resilience on the part of some and not on the part of others, and more. For readers who look for believable characters and their relationships, this book will satisfy. The novel is also interesting in its evocation of American history and culture over the past thirty or so years.

Why Did I Bring "Mudwoman" Home from the Library?

I saw a review of Joyce Carol Oates' new novel, "Mudwoman," thought it looked intriguing, requested it from the library, was notified it was in and waiting for me, checked it out and took it home, and put it on my pile of "to read" books. When I took it off the pile to start reading it, I suddenly wondered WHY I had brought it home. Although I admire Oates, I pretty much stopped reading her many years ago, with very occasional exceptions. In general, her work is too dark and too sensational for my taste. Yet each time a new novel comes out, I wonder if this time I will enjoy it, and shouldn't miss it. So, as if enacting a ritual, I slmost always read the review and track down the book. Then I flip through it and decide that no, in fact, once again, I am NOT going to read it. And once again, I take the book back to the library unread. And so it is with "Mudwoman." Yes, I am drawn in by the premise of a woman Ivy League college president with a lurid childhood lurking in the background, threatening to overtake her and change her life again. The prominent woman, the secret lover, the sensational back story...all call out to me, but when it comes to it, I just don't want to actually read the novel. So, yes, once again, the Oates novel is sitting on my "to return to the library unread" pile.

As a coda to the above: It may seem strange that I occasionally write here about books that I DON'T read. But I believe that such books are part of one's reading life: the "maybe-I-will, but, then again, after all, I guess I won't" books.

"Life on Moors"

My friend B. brought to my attention a recent (3/9/12) New York Times Magazine article by Daphne Merkin titled "Life on Moors: The Ghostly Allure of Bronte Country Beckons a Writer Back." Merkin recently visited the area in Yorkshire that is "the obdurate, timeless landscape that bred the celebrated Bronte sisters and fertilized their singular literary imaginations." She writes about their tiny village of Haworth, in the "remote, windswept setting where they [the Brontes] felt most at home." She remembers being drawn as a young woman to the Brontes' characters and to their writing "so powerfully about female aspirations and subversive love." She finds that although there are some tourists there, the village is remarkably unchanged, and -- according to a local bookstore owner -- that the village is full of eccentrics. Merkin writes that she is "struck by the overwhelming sense of solitariness that this landscape invokes -- and also by its eerie allure." Coincidentally, my colleague/friend A., who teaches at a university in England, posted today on Facebook that he has finally read Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights," and found it, although "beautifully written," "such a depressing story of human depravity." His post reminded me of how my own feelings regarding "Wuthering Heights" had changed over the years. When I was young, I found it dramatic, romantic, and brooding; as I noted here on 5/4/10, when I tried to re-read it a few years back, I found it so dark and crazily intense that I couldn't continue reading. I do, on the other hand, love Charlotte Bronte's novels, especially "Jane Eyre" and "Villette," and have re-read each of them several times with great pleasure.

Back from Conferences

I just got back from two great back-to-back academic conferences, one in Boston and one in Philadelphia. I learned a lot, saw a lot of colleagues and friends, and had a wonderful time. But this is why I haven't posted for several days. I not only didn't post but also barely read anything, as I was busy (in a good way!) from morning to late evening. This follows my usual experience at conferences: I read far less than usual when I am there. The only exception is reading on the plane. This time I caught up with a stack of magazines on the long flight there, and read stories by Edith Wharton on the way back. I will post on the Wharton collection when I finish it, but I can say now that it was good company on the airplane!