American Wars, South and North

I finished The House of the Spirits last week and did finally get the answers to my questions posed in the last post.  The other "I" of the story turned out to be the granddaughter of the main character, Esteban.  And I decided that we occasionally get Esteban's narration to provide some perspective on a character who might otherwise be seen as wholly negative. For those who might read the book, I won't reveal what happens at the end, but for me it ended satisfactorily, if not entirely happily.

Toward the end of the book I was starting to get impatient with the narrative's many, many rich and evocative details.  Though I found them enjoyable throughout most of the novel, I got a bit bogged down by them when the narrative reached modern times.  Maybe because much of what was being described was the country's political turmoil, I wanted to move through those grisly details more quickly.  I had no idea Chile was going through so much; I want to read more about this country's history when I get the chance.

It's an odd experience, though, reading novels that incorporate real history, especially when it's history I'm not aware of.  The descriptions of the terror, corruption, torture, and other shocking events seem almost cartoonish in The House of the Spirits.  I had the same reaction to a book I read that was set in India, Six Suspects. (See my blog  8/14/11.)  It makes me think that this style of presenting terrifyingly real details in a comic light is frequently employed, probably to make the subject more palatable to those who would otherwise be repulsed by it.  It reminds me of how Native American writers jokingly tell of the despair that continues to haunt their people.  The ability to rise above suffering through humor not only reveals the suffering, but also shows the bravery of those who suffer.

Interestingly, in her novel Allende does not seem to take sides.  She presents each side of the socialism vs republicanism debate (and the negative consequences of each type of government) from multiple perspectives, primarily through the eyes or voices of the characters, while the omniscient narrator stays mostly neutral, except to condemn dictatorship.

As I said, I enjoyed the book but was ready to move to non-fiction for a while, so I jumped the alphabetical list a little bit to choose the next non-fiction book, When Presidents Lie, by Eric Alterman, a columnist for The Nation and author of many books about politics and history.  Though published in 2004, When Presidents Lie does not take up George W. Bush's lying to start a war with Iraq, but past instances of presidential lying about international conflicts that had, Alterman believes, grave consequences.

At the moment I'm in the section about Kennedy's lies during the Cuban Missile Crisis.  The book is not a story, but an analysis, and for that reason is a bit dry, but it is interesting since it discusses events I know very little about.

I'll let you know how it goes. Stay tuned!

Women's Worlds: Real and Magical

I finished Writing Women's Worlds, enjoying it greatly.  I wrote to the author, a professor at Columbia, to tell her so, and she very graciously wrote back, thanking me.  That's one of the nice things about reading a scholarly book: the writers are often not famous (other than in academia), and their email addresses are completely accessible on the websites of their schools.  If your email doesn't go in the person's junk mail box, you may get a reply.

I'm now almost finished with Isabel Allende's first novel, The House of the Spirits.  It's really quite good, and I don't know why I didn't get into it the first time I tried to read it.  It's a saga about a family in Chile, the Pruebas, from the turn of the 20th century into modern times.  They are an upper middle class family, land owners, who go through the turbulent 20th century and are affected by it in various ways.

What makes this novel different from others of its genre is that it incorporates magic realism in telling its story.  Magic realism is a technique that describes magical and supernatural events as if they were no big deal, placing them in an otherwise ordinary, realistic narrative.  At first, readers are startled to see magic in what they assumed was a realistic story (not science fiction, horror or fantasy), but eventually, they get used to it and come to accept it as natural and ordinary, the way the story's characters do.

But even though the magic elements stand out, they are not what make The House of the Sprits a great story.  In this story, it is the realism that gripped me.  When I think of sagas, I think of romance fiction and its ilk, since that's the genre where sagas normally appear.  But the family saga in this story is not in the least romantic because it shows the way people really act and think.  The main characters are all flawed, and their flaws cause them and the people around them great pain, even while their perfections give great joy. 

Because of the stark realism, it's hard to know who to root for in this story, but it seems that Allende gives the women a slight edge, though several of the men seem worthy of praise and admiration.  Wanting to know what happens to all the characters is what keeps me reading.

What is perhaps the most striking feature of this novel, though, is the wonderfully detailed descriptions of the people, places, and events of this (not entirely) imaginary world.  It presents a rich tapestry that is quite satisfying (especially if you like details).  It makes me wonder if James Lee Burke picked up this method from Allende. Maybe I'll ask him.

One thing I don't understand in this story, though, is why we occasionally get the first-person narration of the main character, Esteban.  Along those same lines, who is telling another part of the narrative and referring to her/himself as "I"?  Perhaps I'll find these things out before I finish the book.

I am enjoying it and recommend it highly.

Working Through the A's

I'm getting toward the end of Writing Women's Worlds, and learning this week about weddings and related customs.  I have been wondering throughout this book if much has changed since Lila last visited this society in 1989.  I should look that up and report back.

The next book on the list is a novel by Isabel Allende, the Chilean writer (and second cousin of ex-president Salvador Allende).  I've read a couple of her books, but the one I have planned is her first: The House of the Spirits, which was made into a movie by the same name in 1993: The House of the Spirits.  Though it starred Jeremy Irons, Meryl Streep and Glenn Close, it was not well received. I've never seen it, myself.  Maybe I'll give it a go after I read the book.

I started reading House of the Spirits once before but didn't get very far.  This time I hope to finish it. More later.

From Desert Solitaire to Desert Solidarity

I finished Desert Solitaire, although by the end I was starting to lose interest, I must say. I'll probably go back and read the ending again sometime; maybe my mindset will be different by then.

Right now I'm reading the next book on the list, Writing Women's Worlds: Bedouin Stories, by Lila Abu-Lughod, a Palestinian-American anthropologist. She has written about the Bedouins of Egypt before. This time she focuses on women and aspects of their lives, from birth to death.

Lila writes beautifully, and the stories are very interesting and enlightening. One of things that has finally been made clear to me is the impact modernization has had on Muslim cultures. We think that modernization is all good, but it is really the reason for the tightening of restrictions on women. Before, in their rather isolated societies, women were freer, paradoxically, because the dangers of the outside world were not felt. Women were safe within their kinship circles because the men were all relatives. When the world intrudes with its strangers, women have to retreat to their households and spend all their time outside covered up to avoid being seen by non-relatives. It's not comfortable for them; they don't like it, but the reality of being surrounded by strangers leaves them with no alternative, given their cultural/religious restrictions of only being "themselves" around family.

Of course, we would say: change your culture, then! Not any easy or a quick solution, because women who try it are only viewed as non-honorable, "fallen" women (as they used to call them in our culture).

Lila's book takes us behind the scenes and shows us the women relatively unguarded and what they think. It's a fascinating look at a culture we don't often readily understand.

I'm enjoying the book very much. Though it is a scholarly work, I recommend it highly.

Mysteries of Man and Nature

This week I've started Desert Solitaire and also finished John Grisham's latest, The Racketeer.  The Grisham mystery was a bit puzzling until toward the end when things started to fall into place and we were finally told what was really going on. Some interesting twists made the book a good read, but I'm still wondering who the racketeer was . . .

Desert Solitaire is compelling--more so than I expected. Edward Abbey was a strange, interesting person, apparently, and in this book gives us a unique perspective.  I have no trouble visualizing what he is describing, though I do long for some pictures.  One disturbing scene, though, was when he decided to kill a rabbit as an experiment--he wondered if he could survive in the wilderness without weapons other than what he found around him. When he saw the rabbit, he picked up a rock and threw it at the animal's head, killing him. He left the poor rabbit for the scavengers to claim and says he felt no guilt, though he did say that he had no need to repeat the experiment. I'm sure the rabbits would be happy to know that.

The book is written 10 years after the events, which took place around 1956, when Arches National Park was still pretty primitive and not very popular with tourists (mostly because of accessibility issues).  Abbey spends some pages lamenting over the government's decision in the intervening years to develop many of the National Parks and make them more tourist friendly, thereby spoiling them, in Abbey's estimation.

I kind of have to agree with him, though I would probably be one of those who wouldn't go to the parks if I couldn't drive to the sights.

Anyway, I'm enjoying the book.

She Read, Alphabetically

I haven't posted lately because I haven't been inspired to write about what I've been reading lately. I've been in the doldrums, it seems, at making a dent in my book collection, so I decided on a new tack--going alphabetically by author's name.  Being random, the choice ends up out of my hands, which is fine, since I can't seem to otherwise decide what book to read next.

The book first on the list is Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, a classic of environmental/travel writing. I've started it and I think I'm going to enjoy it. The writer's voice is soothing, poetic, unique.  It's an oldish book, first published in 1968. It's a chronicle of the author's three seasons as a park ranger with the National Park Service at Arches National Monument, work that was largely solitary. I'll let you know what I think as I go along.

I continue to read Understanding Biological Psychology, albeit slowly, and I'm also reading Nancy Drew mysteries over the phone with my mother at a fast clip.  They're actually pretty well written (though not as well written as the Little House books).  I'm enjoying them now that I've become used to the many "wrylies" the author uses. Maybe that was the style back in the thirties?

I'm beginning to notice, though, that the books have been somewhat updated from the original version, probably to make them more understandable to a modern audience of girls who are apparently still reading them.

I hope to post again soon with updates of Edward Abbey and whatever comes next.  Stay tuned.

David Crockett: A Fascinating Failure

Well, I'm finally reading something other than mystery or suspense thrillers. I started last week with the history of David Crockett, a biography by Michael Wallis, David Crockett: The Lion of the West, a book in which he emerges as a real person, and quite different from the legendary Crockett of TV and movies.  Oddly enough, though, he is more like another folksy character who seemed to have been more invented than real: Will Rogers.

The more I read this biography, the more I identify Mr. Crockett with Will Rogers.  They were both great storytellers and charismatic figures who were not overly successful in anything other than show business.  David Crockett was an interesting fellow, not the least of which because his life was so improbable.

I'm learning a great deal about the times as well as the life of David Crockett.  One of the sad facts of the early 19th century is the relentless push west and the devastating consequences for the native peoples of our continent.  The urgency of grabbing more and more land for those settling here was at the root of many of the policies of our government up to the Civil War.  Not only its policy toward the indigenous people, but also with respect to the waging of war.  Not only the Indian wars but the War of 1812 and the war to grab Texas were started with the idea of getting more and more land to settle and farm.  Such policies set the stage for later ones that helped settle lands on the Great Plains, lands not really suitable for farming, and that ultimately led to the Dust Bowl and other disasters of the twentieth century.

David Crockett was in the midst of all the changes and for a man who characterized himself as a simple country fellow, he seemed to be involved in politics to a great extent.  As successful as he was at the state level with getting bills passed that benefited the poor, at the national level he was largely unsuccessful, despite his many efforts.

Crockett was a risk taker, and unfortunately, he seldom won the bets he made with himself, especially when it came to producing income for his large family.  Nature and bad luck seemed to conspire against him as they did his father before him, so that the only time he made money was when he worked for the government as a representative.

Eventually his wife left him after many years of being neglected and forgotten at home while he was off on various ill-fated adventures that did little to help to diminish the debts he continued to accumulate or to secure his family's financial future.

I'm now at the point in the book where Crockett, having failed as a politician for the last time, decides to go to Texas and start over.  We all know how things go from there.

This is a very well written book that is quite engaging.  More later.

More Pulp Fiction

I didn't get very far with Alexander Hamilton, though it is an interesting book.  I took some time off to read a couple of novels, one being the latest by Dan Brown, The Lost Symbol.  Not much to say about this one--the usual Dan Brown effort, laced with patches of information about symbology and other esoteric topics.  It's suspenseful, though, and I'm enjoying reading it.  I'm starting to lose track of some of the plot threads, though, toward the end. 

Before The Lost Symbol, I read a Jeffrey Deaver novel that I got from the library, XO, his latest Kathryn Dance novel (with a cameo appearance by Lincoln Rhymes).  That was also suspenseful, and full of twists (a Deaver hallmark), although I must say that I had it figured early on this time.  I think he's getting predictable in his old age!

Maybe I'll get back to Hamilton after this.  We'll see . . .

Flight

I finished Flight yesterday.  What a great novel that was!  It started out kind of depressing but ended up uplifting! Interesting--a kind of mystical/sci fi combination.  And funny--Alexie is always funny, even when he's sad.  Alexie is quite a talented man.  I recommend this book highly.  Now it's on to Alexander Hamilton.

Aggravating Mozart Followed by More Pulp Fiction

Oh, I had such high hopes for Mozart: A Life, but alas! I couldn't continue with it.

There were many details in it--about Mozart's life, his work, his music, his travels, his family members.  Too many.  I found myself fast-forwarding through his performance itinerary and the analysis of his music.  The biographical details were interesting for a while, but after reading the many accounts of Mozart's father's controlling ways and Mozart's failure to do anything to do stop him, I couldn't bear it anymore.  I was so aggravated I wanted to shake Wolfie and slap his father around a bit.  When I saw there was no let up in sight, I abandoned it, saying "I find I don't care what happened to Mozart or why."

So, I went back to pulp fiction for a while to clear the anxiety generated by Mozart's dysfunctional family, finishing The Watchman, by Robert Crais, featuring his continuing character, Joe Pike, another "hero" who operates outside the law and carries out acts of vengeance in the name of justice.  It was fast-paced and interesting, but I don't think I'll be reading another one of these.  My coworker (from whom I borrowed this book and others like it) must have power issues; he doesn't have enough and so likes to fantasize that he can take out evil-doers without suffering the legal penalties our system of justice demands.  But I shouldn't pick on him; the number of current movies and television shows with a vigilante theme show that feelings of powerlessness and desire for vengeance are common in our society.

Since finishing The Watchman I have been thinking of reading Alexander Hamilton, a biography by Ron Chernow, a renowned historian.  I started it and find it interesting, especially since it begins with the story of Hamilton's being killed in a duel with Aaron Burr.

Another possibility is the latest novel by Sherman Alexie, Flight, which I took out of the library.  I may have to read that first just because I'll have to return it long before I finish the gargantuan biography of Hamilton. We'll see.

I'll let you know how it goes.  See ya later!