"Wild," by Cheryl Strayed

"Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail" (Knopf, 2012), by Cheryl Strayed, is not the type of memoir I would normally read. A book about a long, tough, physically and mentally bruising 1,100 mile solo hike? For this not-at-all-athletic, camping-averse reader, there was nothing compelling about the prospect of reading a 300-plus-page book about a young woman's trek up and down mountains, through alternately freezing and steaming weather, encountering bears and rattlesnakes, carrying a backpack that is so heavy that the author calls it the Monster, experiencing aches and pains and blisters and calluses that she has never imagined, often going days without seeing another human being, and sometimes suffering hunger and thirst, among other hardships. Strayed had had no experience with long-distance hiking, but decided it was the challenge she needed in order to deal with the blows life had dealt her and the unhealthy ways she had been living in order to blot out those blows. The most devastating loss was her mother's death when Strayed was only 22. She then embarked on aimless traveling, used destructive drugs, and entered unhealthy relationships. But after four years of this, she pulled herself together to plan and earn money for the big trek along the Pacific Crest Trail. The story of her adventure is both painful and inspiring. Despite my initial reservations about the book, I found myself completely caught up in Strayed's recounting of the journey, as well as her flashbacks to the earlier events in her life. There is an honesty and openness in her writing that is hard to read but also makes it easy for the reader to connect with the narrative and the narrator.

Farewell, Gore Vidal

The great author, politician, intellectual, and provocateur Gore Vidal died yesterday at the age of 86. As the Associated Press, The New York Times, and other news outlets pointed out, he was one of the last of the "generation of writers who were also genuine celebrities" (AP); we saw him on TV and in the gossip columns as well as in literary venues. He was a real "public intellectual" -- he fearlessly (and even joyfully) challenged orthodoxy wherever he found it. I didn't always agree with him, and it was clear that he was often purposely being outrageous, but I was happy that such a thinker and dissident was speaking out regularly. As for his novels: they were sometimes wonderful, sometimes very disappointing. But overall he made a tremendous contribution to literature. I will never forget reading, many years ago, "Burr," one of his very best books, and a revelation to me. It is a wonderful combination of history and literature, and I couldn't put it down. A related happy personal memory is that my late father and I both read some of his novels and had good conversations about them. Vidal's essays, which I found in many of the magazines and newspapers I read, and was always happy to see, were often masterpieces of criticism, and pointed (some say sly and devilish) humor as well. Farewell, Gore Vidal. Your presence and voice will be missed.

"The Man of My Dreams," by Curtis Sittenfeld

Curtis Sittenfeld's first novel, "Prep," was a fascinating look at the East Coast boarding school set. Her "American Wife" was a fictionalized version of the life of a Laura Bush type character. I enjoyed both. I have just listened on CD to her novel, "The Man of My Dreams" (Books on Tape, 2006). As in "Prep," Sittenfeld's main character here is a distinctive, somewhat eccentric, somewhat lonely "outsider" type. We meet Hannah when she is 14, and reeling from the recent separation of her mother from her abusive father. We follow her life up to her late 20s. She is smart and observant, blunt and somewhat socially inept, and continues to be a bit of an outsider. She is the kind of person who is almost always insecure, but who is capable of feeling both superior and inferior at almost the same time. She would love to be loved, but on one level doesn't feel she deserves true love and, perhaps consequently, keeps choosing (or being chosen by) the wrong men, and seems not to quite know what to do about that. All of this is painfully and realistically portrayed in this novel. The author is brave enough to make Hannah a bit unlikable at times, yet we readers understand and sympathize with her, and ultimately cannot help liking her. This novel felt very immediate, very real to me. It wasn't always comfortable to listen to, but ultimately I admired and enjoyed it.

"High Wages," by Dorothy Whipple

Some readers may remember that a few months ago I “discovered” the writer Dorothy Whipple, whom I had not known about before. Now that I have read some of her fiction, I find that although she wrote mostly in the 1930s and 1940s, many besides me still read her today. This was a humbling experience. Not because I claim to know all writers, of course (!), but because Whipple’s work is exactly the kind of fiction I like, and I am surprised and a bit chagrined that I had not heard of her before. In any case, I did recently “discover” her, loved her fiction, and posted about three of her books (one short story collection and two novels) on 1/24/12, 1/30/12, and 2/10/12. After that, I had been meaning to read more of her fiction, and knew that the USF library had several of her books, in the beautiful Persephone editions with their grey covers and gorgeous, colorfully patterned inner covers. I have now just read “High Wages” (originally 1932, republished by Persephone 2009), and enjoyed it very much. This novel is different than most of Whipple's other works, in that instead of focusing on middle and upper class characters, it features a main character who starts out very poor. Jane becomes an orphan in her early teens, doesn’t get along with her stepmother, and soon is out on her own. At first she works in a haberdashery shop, at the lowest level possible, living behind the shop, badly paid and badly fed. But she is a bright, talented, hardworking, observant young woman, with a vision of how to do things better, and with ambition, and she gradually raises her station in life, eventually owning her own very prestigious and successful shop. The story tells not only of her work, but also of her friendships, hardships, romances, and more. Unlike most English novels that are set in London, this one takes place mainly in northern England, in a small town near Manchester. Some of the scenes that most impressed me were Jane’s outings to increasingly far away cities – first Manchester, then Liverpool, and finally London. She was fascinated by everything about these cities, wandering the streets, observing the people, looking at the shop windows, soaking it all in. This suddenly reminded me of how even today, even in my prosperous city of San Francisco, there are children in some districts of the city who have not only never been out of the city but have not even been to Golden Gate Park or to Ocean Beach. This was a sad reminder that a seemingly unchanging fact about the world -- the gap between the rich and the poor, and even the middle class and the poor -- is still huge, and still something we need to be aware of and fight against.

"Yes, Chef," by Marcus Samuelsson

Readers of this blog know that one of the genres I enjoy is books about the restaurant world, and especially memoirs of chefs. I just finished a new example of this genre, “Yes, Chef: A Memoir” (Random House, 2012), by Marcus Samuelsson. This is the story of a man who was born in Ethiopia, was adopted as a toddler by a Swedish family, loved to cook with his Swedish grandmother, started working in restaurants as a young teenager, and at the practically unprecedented age of 24, became the chef at New York’s Aquavit and earned a New York Times three-star review for the restaurant. He was the youngest chef ever to receive a three-star review from the Times. Along the way, he worked in restaurants in Europe, and while in New York and elsewhere, he roamed the various neighborhoods and explored the cuisines and markets of many different countries and cultures. He also recently won the Top Chef Masters television competition, and planned and cooked for the first state dinner at the Obama White House. At a certain point, he felt the need to reconnect with his Ethiopian birth family and background, and with his black identity as well, so he went back to Ethiopia several times. His own path to success was not as direct and easy as the above description might indicate; he overcame many challenges and missteps along the way, both in his professional life and his personal life. Now, bringing together many aspects of his life, talents, identity, and character, he is the creator, owner and chef of the successful and well-reviewed Red Rooster restaurant in Harlem. One of his goals in life is to bring more attention to Harlem and its rich history and culture; another goal is to bring more black chefs into the restaurant world. This story is well written. Although no co-author is listed on the title page, the author mentions in the acknowledgements that “the real work of writing this book began when my friend Veronica Chambers agreed to help me tell my story….This is my story, but the fine touch on the words is all hers,” so it is not clear how much of the writing is his and how much hers. In any case, it is a readable and compelling story. Samuelsson has a unique and inspiring story, and his “voice” is both proud and humble, a good balance. He seems very likable, although I did question his decision for many years to support his illegitimate daughter financially but not see or communicate with her. Fortunately, he eventually, as he became more mature, established contact with her and built a belated relationship with her. I like the fact that he often acknowledges and thanks the people in his life who helped him succeed, not only as a chef but as a person, most notably his beloved and admirable Swedish parents. Now, back to the reason Samuelsson published a book in the first place: his life in and love of cooking. He is obviously a tremendously talented chef, and has been able to blend various aspects of his background, identity, and gifts to produce amazing, creative food and a wonderful experience for those who dine at his restaurants. A few years ago, I was fortunate enough to eat at Aquavit while he was still the chef there, and it was an impressive and memorable meal and experience.

"Gossip," by Beth Gutcheon

On 2/8/10, I wrote about “middlebrow literature,” and gave as examples of middlebrow writers Anne Rivers Siddons, Anita Shreve, Elizabeth Berg, Nancy Thayer, and Joanna Trollope. I would add Beth Gutcheon, several of whose novels I have read in the past, and whose new novel, “Gossip” (HarperCollins, 2012), I just listened to on CD (Books on Tape/Random House, 2012). She, like the other authors I just mentioned, writes solidly and well, and although her novels are not "great literature," they “give good value,” as the English say. They give readers an entertaining read, and the escape that they (we) are often looking for; at the same time, they move us, inspire us, and make us feel connected to humankind. “Gossip,” although in some ways light, deals with some serious issues as well: relationships over the years and how they can go right or wrong, the human tendency to want to gossip about others, loneliness, fractured families, friendship, and more. These issues are presented in the entertaining context of New York, posh apartments and country homes, private schools, society, money, fashion, and the entertainment world. So we readers get the best of both worlds: enjoyment and emotional connection. The three main characters met at an elite private school for girls, and the novel follows their lives, and the lives of their spouses, ex-spouses, lovers, and children over perhaps 40 years. One of the three, Luvia, narrates most of the story, and acts as the calm center and confidant for the others as they live out their more tempestuous lives. Again, this is not great literature, but it is not trashy or badly written either, as is so much on the market today. It does the job it sets out to do well, and provides satisfaction. And what’s wrong with that? I for one am grateful for these middlebrow authors and their novels; they have provided me with many hours of enjoyment over the years.

"A Sensible Life," by Mary Wesley

I was slightly familiar with the English author Mary Wesley’s name and reputation, but don’t remember actually reading any of her novels before. At the local library sale that I have written about several times, I recently picked up Wesley’s 1990 novel, “A Sensible Life” (Penguin). It looked like one of the kinds of novels I like: English, about a group of young people and their families who meet on vacation in France, just before World War II, and their intertwined lives over the following 35 years. Country houses, hotels, parties, dinners, romances, family dramas, friendships, jealousy, loyalty, and more…wonderful! I did, however, feel a bit uneasy about the first part of the novel, because of the sadness of the main character, Flora, a 10-year-old whose parents in their utter self-absorption neglect her unforgivably. But Flora is a strong, observant girl, and I wanted to know what would happen in her life. Slowly the story caught me up, and my fascination with how people’s lives work out over time, and with the relationships among those characters, kept me interested to the end. A few unexpected twists and turns along the way also kept me engaged.