Book #215: Andrew's Brain

Book #215: Andrew's Brain by E.L. Doctorow

January 16, 2016

This is an example of the kind of unconventional, challenging books that I've been trying to read more of. Andrew's Brain is told in a sort of stream of consciousness style, as Andrew talks about his life (as he remembers it in his own mind, at least) to a psychiatrist (maybe). It's not totally clear where he is, but my theory is that he suffered a nervous breakdown sometime after 9/11 (his young baby momma was killed). He's a scientist who has studied the brain for much of his life, and now his brain is cracked and he's not aware of it.

It's difficult to tell where Andrew is being truthful and where his memory has been warped. The stuff about him being George W. Bush's college roommate and working briefly at the White House seems far fetched. The stuff about his ex-wife and dead girlfriend seem more down to Earth, but again, with his mind so damaged from trauma, who knows what the "truth" is?

Many of the young men I work with have suffered trauma in their lives. We typically have at least one habitual liar on our campus at a time, the kind of kids who claim they've lived through Hurricane Katrina and plane crashes, having a convenient story to match any topic that happens to come up. I've often wondered why these kids feel the need to tell such outlandish lies. Getting inside fictional Andrew's head, so to speak, reminds me how the brain can be damaged even if a person has never suffered physical trauma, like a blow to the head. 

Andrew is convinced that he's cursed. He accidentally caused a fatal car accident when he rode into a street in his sled as a kid. He accidentally killed his first born child when he administered the wrong medicine, a mistake of the pharmacy (though this is a detail that the psychiatrist, whether he's real or only exists in Andrew's mind, questions). He's clumsy at best, a walking catastrophe at his worst. But, unless he intentionally killed his child and his mind isn't allowing him to remember it, he isn't evil or bad. He's a rather unfortunate person.

This book seems to have mixed reviews on Goodreads. While there's a part of me that wants the "truth" about Andrew, I think that's beside the point. We know what Andrew thinks is true, what he thinks he remembers. If he were aware of how damaged he was, what would he say to that? He describes how, in his studies, he's looked at how various stimuli can affect the brain, all its complex signals and functions that translate into thoughts and feelings. For someone like me, who works with teenagers who are more damaged than the average kid, a book like this helps me to remember that each person's experiences affect how his or her mind functions, which stimuli we react to most, that sort of thing. A joke that some of my coworkers have is that, for some of our most damaged kids, it'd be fascinating to get inside their minds and see how it works. Obviously, this is not possible, but Doctorow attempted to do something like that with Andrew here.

Book #214: Dark Places

Book #214: Dark Places by Gillian Flynn

January 13, 2015

This is the second book I've read by Flynn. Unlike her wildly successful Gone Girl, this one (an earlier work, I think) is a bit more conventional as far as how the main character, Libby, goes about solving the mystery. But like Gone Girl, the characters are complex and often despicable. It wasn't quite as satisfying as Flynn's biggest success to date, but it still held my interest all the way through.

I have issues with the development of Libby Day. When she was seven, her mother and two older sisters were murdered, and her older brother was put away in prison for it. Since then, she was angry, fearful, and disconnected. As a grown woman, not much older than myself, she's never held a job and can't even remember to change her bedsheets. She feels entitled to pity and money, because that's all people have ever really given her. But at 31, the pity and the money are running out. When she's offered a few hundred bucks to appear at a convention for murder investigation enthusiasts, she jumps at it...and it changes her whole life.

Her outrage and disbelief about the alternative theories to her family's murders is understandable. She testified against her brother, although she didn't actually see what happened, only heard snatches of shouting and the shotgun blast from her hiding place. Libby was basically made to believe that her brother did it. That belief was, supposedly, deeply ingrained in her. So of course she's upset when people try to say otherwise, and call her a liar.

But her about-face regarding her brother's guilt seemed too swift. After just one interview with Ben, her incarcerated brother, she's more or less determined to know the truth. I feel like this wasn't entirely realistic. At first she only visits Ben and other figures in the mystery for the money from the "Kill Club" and Ben's supporters. But she throws herself into their investigation.

More interesting than Libby's search are the chapters between them. They follow Ben and Patty, their mother, during the hours leading up to the murders. Shit's hitting the fan for the Day family. Patty is so deep in debt that she's about to lose the family farm, and Ben is being accused of molesting little girls at school. He had a friendly relationship with a fifth grader, and one day after school, she kissed him. He got a boner, freaked out, and ran away. I work with legitimate teenage sex offenders; Ben was no sex offender. 

So the day of the murders is tense, presenting several scenarios for who the real killer might be. In the end, the situation is quite a mess, but it all fits. Besides the unrealistic development of Libby's character, I was satisfied with this book. Obviously, it never received even close to the amount of attention as that one other book. It wasn't even on my radar before I read Gone Girl. But Flynn is an exciting author, and being pretty new to the scene and just recently becoming famous, I hope she'll publish more. 

Book #213: The Boys in the Boat

Book #213: The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics by Daniel James Brown

January 3, 2016

I first started to hear about this book in the summer of 2014. Someone was talking about it on the radio; I don't think it was Brown himself, but just a book reviewer or something. This person described the scene in New York, when the soon-to-be 1936 U.S. Olympic eight-man with coxswain rowing crew made an impromptu visit to Hyde Park. Having just read Mrs. Roosevelt's autobiography, this caught my interest. They didn't have the honor of meeting my hero or her husband FDR, but they did have drinks with one of their sons. Anyway, the guy on the radio went on about how good this book is, so when I saw it in the elibrary, I added it to my wish list. But it wasn't available until just recently.

I have always felt that the U.S. and its allies should have boycotted the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Brown describes how the games gave Nazi Germany a great opportunity to hoodwink the world, and to further their propaganda on the supposed superiority of the "Aryan race." But it doesn't diminish the success of the boys from the University of Washington, who individually and as a group overcame many obstacles to gain Olympic glory. 

Brown mostly tells the story of one rower, Joe Rantz, who had it especially rough during his formative years. Depression-era troubles and family drama found him living in his own as a teenager. Working for his own survival, he became tough and strong. By the time he takes home his gold medal, his antagonistic stepmother is dead, he's reunited with his family, and his fiancée is thrilled for him. Rantz was one of the only surviving members of the boat left when Brown started his research, so it makes sense that we'd get so much of his story, but it really is very compelling.

Most of the boys in the boat had their own struggles, and if Brown was able to procure any of their personal documents, they were frequently quoted. Brown also describes George Pocock, the British shell maker set up at Washington, a master of the craft and a crew expert since his earliest years. Pocock is quoted at the beginning of each chapter. I've never known a whole lot about crew, but I get the feeling that Pocock is amongst the legends of the sport.

Albert Ulbrickson, the Washington crew coach, is obviously a central figure as well, but the book doesn't delve much into his life beyond his impact on the sport and the young men he coached. He's kind of a stereotypical stoical type, not even getting overexcited or emotional at the most triumphant of moments. His notes on his strategies are quoted frequently as well, and that's where you see how methodical and driven he was. 

From the descriptions of the races (something I tend not to enjoy in sports literature ir nonfiction, but kept my interest here), that's what it takes to be successful in rowing, methodical and driven. The Washington/U.S. team used their strength intelligently, outsmarting their opponents before outrowing them. And in the final moments of the Olympic medal race, they were driven enough to push themselves beyond their limits, and do it in perfect sync. Fuck you, Hitler. USA! USA!

Prior to reading this book, one of the few things I knew about crew was its upper class British origins. Brown focuses on the fact that Washington, and the West Coast in general, was still considered pretty rustic at this time, though Seattle was a pretty well developed city. The Washington/U.S. gold medal crew were not boys from the upper classes. There's something so American about it. So while giving the middle finger to Hitler, they were also continuing what the previous winning crews from the University of California had started, and claiming something that was once so elitist. Pocock did the same thing in his youth, showing up (but also helping) the Eaton boys on the Thames. 

I clearly was swept up in the story, because I cried when they won (even though I already knew they had). The only thing I didn't totally enjoy about this book was all the technical information about how Pocock constructed his shells. I see why it was necessary to include, it just bored me a little. Otherwise, I found this to be a solid, well-written work. I always like when I learn something new from non-fiction, and while I don't see myself putting my newfound knowledge of crew to much use, the personal stories of the winning boat and the key figures kept my interest. 

Book #212: The Return of the King

Book #212: The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

December 21, 2015

I actually finished this book last night, but it got a little late to write this entry. I'm at the start of a long winter break from work, so I'm hoping to get more reading time in. I did an okay job of fitting in some reading time to my busy schedule recently, but this book, the final book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, was a long one.

I didn't remember much of the events from the movie as I read. All I remembered was that Gollum fell into Mount Doom with the ring, Aragorn becomes the King, Sam marries Rosie, and Frodo sails away at the end with Gandolf and the elves. Oh, and the almost-death of Faramir. There were snippets that stuck out to me, but not the whole narrative of the story.

The story started off not split in two, but into several parts as more Fellowship members are separated. I almost feel like the movie did a better job of emphasizing the pain that Merry and Pippin felt while apart. In the book they're certainly missing their old lives, but they throw themselves into the service of the respective lords under whose protection they find themselves. 

The leaders in the (at first) desperate fight against Sauron's creatures acknowledge that their massive efforts are only a decoy. The real fate of Middle Earth lies in the outcome of Frodo's mission. He and Sam meet many dangers in Mordor, but of course are ultimately successful, and they all more or less save the world.

Though I didn't have much vested interest in Faramir or Éowyn, but I thought their hooking up was good. Éowyn is one of the few female characters in this series, but she was a strong female. In the end she conforms to the expectations of her gender (had the series been more modern, I'd like to think it would turn out differently), but her role in the story was significant. 

Poor Frodo! He bore the ring for too long to not be affected by it. He leaves Sam to have a normal, prosperous life in the Shire. Sam has always been the biggest hero of the story in my view, and I was glad to see him get a happy ending. But still...poor Frodo.

So ends my reading of Tolkien's works. If the writing isn't always spectacular, these are still classics that have inspired every work of fantasy literature since written. Would there be, for instance, a Dark Tower series without Lord of the Rings? Would there be a Harry Potter? I think not.

Book #211: In the Shadow of Blackbirds

Book #211: In the Shadow of Blackbirds by Cat Winters

November 9, 2015

I checked this book out as part of the Big Library Reads program. I didn't finish it in a timely manner (obviously), so I had to purchase the ebook. This book wasn't a big turd like the last BLR book that I read, but I wasn't exactly blown away.

The premise was interesting. A young woman named Mary Shelley (that's her first name, and yes, it's after the author) leaves Portland for San Diego after her father was arrested. It's 1918, and her father is accused of being a German sympathizer, or worse. To top it off, the Spanish flu is killing people on the Homefront while young men die in the trenches in France. This was a timely read, since I just did my World War I chapter in my U.S. History class.

Mary Shelley stays with her widowed aunt. Her boyfriend's mother and half-brother live in the area. Stephen is fighting in France...or so she believes. She tolerates being around his shady brother in hopes of hearing of him. Julius is a drug addict and a swindler, using his dead stepfather's studio and development tricks to make people believe that he can take pictures of ghosts. At this point in the story, I'm still in.

But then, MS learns that Stephen has died. She attempts suicide...and has one of those cheesy out-of-body experiences before coming back to life. She can now communicate with Stephen's troubled spirit, and is determined to learn the truth about his death.

I think this book should have stayed grounded in reality. Stephen's experiences before his death were compelling, and the fact that Julius and Mr. Darning were highly immoral, troubled men would negate the idea of ghosts. MS shouldn't have hunted for the truth to save Stephen's spirit, but for the truth itself. Take out the ghost crap, and there'd be a very solid story here. As is? Not so much.

But still not bad. MS looked like Aubrey Plaza to me as I read, so obviously I think well of the character. As far as the Big Library Reads program goes, I'll read another select. Had this one been awful, I would write off the program for good. This book had it's good points, mostly the setting and characters, but the plot didn't hold together. 

Book #210: Wonder

Book #210: Wonder by R.J. Palacio

October 13, 2015

When I was in middle school, there was a girl at my church who was a year ahead of me at school. She was clearly born with some sort of abnormality, because she didn't look "normal." I remember sitting in chorus class on one of the last days of school, as our director made us watch the seventh graders' concert performance from the previous week. As the camera panned across the faces of our older peers, this girl's face came on the screen. There was a lot of cries of "ew!" and laughter around the room. It pissed me off, since I knew her from church and knew she was all right, but I just shook my head and didn't say anything. It made me think that this girl probably had to deal with stupid shit like that every day of her life.

Auggie Pullman, the main character of this book, has different abnormalities than my old schoolmate, but fundamentally they have the same situation: their looks always have, and always will, be the main thing that most people know them for. Ignorant people are disgusted or scared. They're called many ugly names, not always to their faces, but still. Jack's right when he says it would be tough to be Auggie, but it's other people who make it tough for him. As though dozens of surgeries before the age of 10 just to be a functioning person weren't enough to deal with.

Auggie attends school for the first time as a fifth grader. He's smart and his parents are well off, so he goes to a private school. Still, he only makes a few friends at the start, and is mostly seen as a pariah by most of his classmates. They won't even touch him. It's nice to see that most of them get over this as they get to know Auggie, and some come to his defense when he's bullied by some bigger, older kids on a field trip. It's a good ending for Auggie.

I appreciated that the book presented other perspectives besides Auggie's. His sister Olivia isn't exactly bitter about not getting nearly as much attention from her folks, but it's clear that it hurts her, even just a little. Jack seemed like a little jerk until his perspective is presented; then it's clear that he's a decent kid who, like any decent kid, says and does stupid things sometimes. I imagine that even Julian would look decent if he'd told any of the story. He came by his bad attitude honestly; his mother actually had Auggie cropped out of her copy of the fifth grade class photo. Dumb bitch! 

The only perspective I didn't "get" was Olivia's boyfriend. He's quirky; he's a fiddler with Tourette's. But his POV is so short that it kind of just felt tossed in, and it didn't really give me a new frame through which to view Auggie. Knowing that Palacio has written more books about these characters, I wonder if this guy's story will be told.

I got really emotional when Daisy, the Pullman family dog, died. I mean, like, sobbing and crying, "no!" I can't even handle dogs dying. My Dog Skip? Forget about it. The second to last episode of Wilfred? Hot mess alert. Seymour from Futurama? Don't even talk to me. People dying can be touching, but a good, sweet dog? Shut up.

I felt like this was a fantastic book, and one I hope many kids in middle school (or even older "kids" like me) read. We're told that looks don't matter, and for everyone, that's bullshit. But this book has a great message about seeing beyond looks. Auggie was not just his face, though that does have a lot to do with how he approaches and views the world. He's a Star Wars fanatic, a brilliant student who loves science, and overall, in spite of it all, a normal kid. I think if this book were meant for older readers I'd expect a more complex plot, especially more inclusion of Olivia's boyfriend, but for younger readers, this book is perfect.

Book #209: The Enchantress of Florence

Book #209: The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie

October 4, 2015

I've gotten very behind on my reading lately. I could blame this on a number of factors. I've just had a hard time getting back on track. This book wasn't super long, but it took a while to get through. I did enjoy it, I just wasn't making the time to read.

Like Rushdie's most celebrated book, this story mixes historical fact with magic and whimsy. This story mostly takes place 400-500 years ago, when the world was changing and growing. It takes place in Muslim-ruled India and the Middle East, Italy (of course), and to a much lesser extent, the "New World." A blonde young man arrives at the Indian emperor's palace with a strange tale to tell.

Although this young stranger with many names is shown to be a scoundrel at the beginning of the text, his story has enough proven truth to earn the mighty emperor's trust. The emperor is a rather imaginative man himself; he has many wives and slaves in his harem, but he most lusts after a woman he made up in his own mind. So it's no surprise that he, along with all his people, are sucked into this man's kinda-true story.

To be honest, I wasn't so much drawn into the story of Qara Köz as I was to the historical details and overall imagery of the story. I was more interested in the Mirror, the princess's doppelgänger slave and constant companion. She is described and shown as an echo of her even more beautiful mistress. I felt very sad for her, to have no life or personality outside of being this other woman's shadow. When Qara Köz is given the  Western name Angelica, the Mirror is called by the same. She's not the only example of the oppression of women in this work. Slave girls are literally game pieces on chess-type boards in the emperor's court. And of course, the entire concept of the harem. The desires and dreams of all of these women mean nothing. 

Meanwhile, the whimsical emperor is a person prone to deep philosophical thinking. He is having an existential crisis, and he feels that his efforts to find meaning are fruitless. The young visitor, who may or may not be his own blood relation, gives him some hope. But his story only pushes the emperor deeper and deeper into his own mind. He's certainly no better off for having heard Qara Köz's tale.

I'm not clear on the message of the book, which bothers me a little. Still, I enjoyed it, and the setting was very interesting, misogynistic though it may have been. In the story, women are the ones with powers. Still, it isn't enough to give them status over men, or in Qara Köz's case, to bring her happiness.