Book #93: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver (with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver)
June 27, 2014
One goal that I have this summer, of course, is to read as many books as I possibly can. My slow pace at reading this particular book is not due to any lack of enjoyment...I loved it, in fact. My reading time has been taken up lately, until a couple of days ago, by my preparation for comps. I'm finished with all that, I have the green light to graduate and get my master's, which is awesome, and now I have several weeks ahead of me of virtually no responsibilities, apart from keeping myself and my dog alive.
Another goal of mine this summer, which I started a few weeks ago, is to drop some weight. I'm 10 pounds down, not bad, and my "ideal" weight is about 25 pounds less than what I weigh now (a number I haven't spent much time at in the last decade). I try to keep it simple when I seek to lose weight, and this time around I've been very lax on the diet, in hopes that, even if I drop weight more slowly, I'll form sustainable habits and be able to keep it off, at long last. Yes, I've yo-yo'ed, and while I've never fallen in to any crazy fad diets, I have limited my calories in the past (or worse, especially as a teenager). This time around, I'm not counting calories. I am trying to be better about the foods that I eat. Between the dieting and my binges on fast food (something I should know to have knocked completely from my diet years ago), I'm committed many food crimes against my body. And, according to this book, to my local economy as well. And so, I'm planning on accomplishing at third goal this summer, inspired by this very book.
So obviously, I'm not like the Kingsolver-Hopps. I don't have access to land to farm on; I don't even have a little patio to keep a modest little vegetable garden on. But I'll admit, for years I've been fascinated by the idea of gardening, especially vegetables, and I know that when I can finally afford a place of my own, with a little yard, that I'll finally start my own garden. But the book has still inspired me to become a more responsible consumer. For Kingsolver, a woman with a family, she was driven to support local foods for the health of her family, and for the future of our economy. For her, it wasn't quite enough just to stick it to the man (in this case, the food corporation); but for me, that's almost motivation enough. For years, I've had a mistrust for greedy corporations; I feel a stab of guilt any time I walk into a certain store whose name rhymes with "doll fart." I love the idea of living the way that the Kingsolver-Hopps do; not entirely self-sufficient, but able to get by on what they can grow and raise and buy from local farmers. But the book, through Kingsolver's suggestions and Hopps's sidebar informational pieces, recommends ways that urban apartment dwellers like myself can still support farms.
I live in Iowa. While there is corporate farming here, there are still a lot of smaller local farms. In my city, there's an indoor farmer's market that runs a few evenings a week, year-round, as well as a big one that runs every other Saturday morning during the summer months that takes up two city blocks. Eating well is within my grasp, and Hopps provided a great plan to get me started:
-First, use the farmer's market as a main source for food. Go without a plan, and buy what's in season.
That's where things get a little tricky for me, though. What's awesome about this book is that Camille, Kingsolver's daughter (she wrote her post-chapter commentaries while she was a freshman or sophomore in college!), provides some great recipes, and apparently there are more on the book's website. I think my next step would be to check out the recipes and find ones that fit with the foods that I'm able to procure.
-Use the grocery store for supplementary items, and try to find ones that are produced in-state or close by, or that are 'fair trade.'
I've been aware for some time, to some extent, of how much of the food in my local grocery is imported from elsewhere, but it didn't disturb me so much until I read this book. The Kingsolver-Hopps "cheated" a little with eating only local products, but not by much; some items were must-haves, while others (like imported bananas), they could do without, and they did.
-Get the necessary equipment to make bread, can and store items, etc.
This is where I get a little intimidated. I think I can do the bread making with a decent bread machine, so I'm excited to take that step. But canning and preserving fruits and vegetables? It's going to take some practice, but I think I'd like to try my hand at it.
So that's my plan for the rest of the summer: move away from purchasing imported foods, and start doing a better job of supporting local farmers. I have the perfect profession for this; it sounded like Kingsolver was busiest in the summer with all the preserving and stuff, but it just made her winter that much easier. Well, my summer just so happens to be pretty free. I just need to get off my ass and stop playing stupid electronic farming games (yup) and actually go out and give some love to real farmers.
I want to make one note about the title of the book. I was repelled by it at first, but as I read the book, I came to appreciate it, and its double-meaning. On the one hand, what the Kingsolver-Hopps did wasn't a "miracle" at all. Raising and growing your own food...that's something people have been doing since before recorded time, after all. But considering the world that we live in today, the America that we live in, it actually is pretty miraculous. They raised turkeys to their second generation; that is unheard of with domestic turkeys. They grew and stored enough food to make it through the winter, and looked forward to another spring of planting and summer and fall of harvesting. And they cut ties with greedy corporate food, which wastes fuel, kills species of vegetables, and pumps the remaining full of chemicals. Geez, and I thought eating fast food was bad enough. The world, as it is described in this book, is scary and accurate, and kind of world that I don't want to raise a family in. But Kingsolver is optimistic; she loves her daughters, and they both love vegetables. She sees that as a hopeful sign, that the world can be changed in a positive way. I want to believe that, too.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Book #92: Heart of Darkness
Book #92: Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
June 18, 2014
I actually finished this book a few days ago, but have been putting
off writing this blog post. Why? Because quite frankly, I do not know
what to make of this book.
When I was subbing long-term at a high school last year, I had a tiny
class of AP English students. For their final book assignment, their
teacher gave me two options: this, or The Scarlet Letter. She
applauded my choice of Hawthorne, admitting that she doesn't really
like Heart of Darkness. In truth, I made my decision based on which
one I'd read; that seemed obvious. But I was intrigued by her comment;
why didn't she like this book?
Well, I can maybe see where she was coming from. But if I had the
chance to make the choice again, I'd probably go with Heart of Darkness. As far as being a "challenging" book, this one certainly is; among motivated students, it could spark some fascinating discussion. The big question that I have is, what was Conrad's message in this
book?
Okay, so the book was published over 100 years ago, at a time when
Europeans were raping Africa of its resources and brutalizing its
people. That was essentially my frame of mind as I read this book. I
actually found the narration to be very interesting; the first couple
of pages didn't pull me in, but once Marlow started his story, I was
along for the ride. Marlow is recalling a trip he'd made to the center
of Africa as a hired captain of a small delivery boat. He was employed
with some greedy-ass company; the people who worked for it were either
lazy or insane.
I could interpret Conrad's message in a few different ways. I would
guess that he felt like whitey had no place in Africa, and he
describes it as breaking down those men who went there to seek their
fortunes. Kurtz loses his mind from greed for ivory, but he's also
described as having immersed himself into the culture of the native
peoples...which, apparently, is a bad thing. Africa had brought out
the darkness of HIS heart.
That's where things get a little dicey. The native Africans are
described in not very flattering ways; the "n-word" is used often, and
a tribe of "savages" attacks Marlow's river boat at one point. The
cannibals who work for Marlow aren't treated much better in the
narrative; the best that can be said about them is that they didn't
eat the white men on the boat, even as they were starving. I did
appreciate the descriptions here, of the white men putting their own
greedy interests above the basic needs of these other men. That's
where I connected most with the book, and felt it to be most true.
I recently made a flippant comment in a conversation that "Africa is
scary." It sounded stupid and racist, and I should have explained that
it is what has been DONE to Africa that makes it such a scary place.
Apartheid, AIDS, diamond mining, political turmoil...all that shit
stems back to Europeans infecting the mother continent. In truth, I
have a respect for Africa, and for people who go there to try to HELP
people, those who are lacking in natural resources or the means to
produce them. I have a respect for African people (in general; Africa
is a huge, various continent), and for the fact that their cultures
are so very different from my own.
Conrad, in this book, is making some of those connections, but overall
he doesn't seem to have moved past the idea that "Africa is scary." Is
this book racist? Totally. I think it presents an interesting
HISTORICAL perspective on Africa and Western society's influence on
it, but it definitely needs to be viewed through a modern lens.
June 18, 2014
I actually finished this book a few days ago, but have been putting
off writing this blog post. Why? Because quite frankly, I do not know
what to make of this book.
When I was subbing long-term at a high school last year, I had a tiny
class of AP English students. For their final book assignment, their
teacher gave me two options: this, or The Scarlet Letter. She
applauded my choice of Hawthorne, admitting that she doesn't really
like Heart of Darkness. In truth, I made my decision based on which
one I'd read; that seemed obvious. But I was intrigued by her comment;
why didn't she like this book?
Well, I can maybe see where she was coming from. But if I had the
chance to make the choice again, I'd probably go with Heart of Darkness. As far as being a "challenging" book, this one certainly is; among motivated students, it could spark some fascinating discussion. The big question that I have is, what was Conrad's message in this
book?
Okay, so the book was published over 100 years ago, at a time when
Europeans were raping Africa of its resources and brutalizing its
people. That was essentially my frame of mind as I read this book. I
actually found the narration to be very interesting; the first couple
of pages didn't pull me in, but once Marlow started his story, I was
along for the ride. Marlow is recalling a trip he'd made to the center
of Africa as a hired captain of a small delivery boat. He was employed
with some greedy-ass company; the people who worked for it were either
lazy or insane.
I could interpret Conrad's message in a few different ways. I would
guess that he felt like whitey had no place in Africa, and he
describes it as breaking down those men who went there to seek their
fortunes. Kurtz loses his mind from greed for ivory, but he's also
described as having immersed himself into the culture of the native
peoples...which, apparently, is a bad thing. Africa had brought out
the darkness of HIS heart.
That's where things get a little dicey. The native Africans are
described in not very flattering ways; the "n-word" is used often, and
a tribe of "savages" attacks Marlow's river boat at one point. The
cannibals who work for Marlow aren't treated much better in the
narrative; the best that can be said about them is that they didn't
eat the white men on the boat, even as they were starving. I did
appreciate the descriptions here, of the white men putting their own
greedy interests above the basic needs of these other men. That's
where I connected most with the book, and felt it to be most true.
I recently made a flippant comment in a conversation that "Africa is
scary." It sounded stupid and racist, and I should have explained that
it is what has been DONE to Africa that makes it such a scary place.
Apartheid, AIDS, diamond mining, political turmoil...all that shit
stems back to Europeans infecting the mother continent. In truth, I
have a respect for Africa, and for people who go there to try to HELP
people, those who are lacking in natural resources or the means to
produce them. I have a respect for African people (in general; Africa
is a huge, various continent), and for the fact that their cultures
are so very different from my own.
Conrad, in this book, is making some of those connections, but overall
he doesn't seem to have moved past the idea that "Africa is scary." Is
this book racist? Totally. I think it presents an interesting
HISTORICAL perspective on Africa and Western society's influence on
it, but it definitely needs to be viewed through a modern lens.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Book #91: Damned
Book #91: Damned by Chuck Palahniuk
June 11, 2014
At long last, it is the eve of the last day of school. I'll officially be on summer vacation in two days, though I will still be focused on my comps and finishing up my master's degree, but I'll have that done by the end of the month. Then I can really enjoy my summer, for the first time in a while.
Palahniuk is one great author for summer reading, if you like what I would call his "light-hearted darkness." He makes light of disgusting aspects of reality, like racism and hypocrisy and pedophilia, and the thirteen-year-old narrator is so flip. Some might find it offensive, but Palahniuk just does what many other great writers have done, and holds a magnifying glass up to the worst parts of our society, of ourselves.
I'm making the book sound so profound, but it's really not. It's a fun read. Maddy Spencer is thirteen and is dead, and sent to Hell. The Hell in this book is absurd; nasty candy litters the ground, and good candy is currency. The landscape is composed of the nastiest things produced by the human body: oceans of sperm, rivers of bile, deserts of dandruff, swamps of aborted babies (it's specifically called the swamp of Partial-Birth Abortions)...and cockroaches are everywhere. Now, Maddy had been the daughter of a film producer and an actress, overweight and subjected to her parents' charitable publicity stunts and Hollywood lifestyle. She's chubby, insecure, precocious, and eager to please. She first believes that she died of a marijuana overdose, but since that obviously can't be true, the truth is eventually revealed.
Maddy thrives in Hell. She makes friends with other young souls, and they form a sort of self-described "undead Breakfast Club," with her as the Ally Sheedy character, of course. Her friends help her navigate her way through hell, and she actually comes to like it there. In her job as a telemarketer (in Palahniuk's hell, it's either that or Internet porn for making an income of candy), she encourages dying people over the phone to go to Hell, and when they arrive, they gravitate to her. Maddy, once a sharp-witted but shy girl, becomes a leader of her own Hellish army. With the encouragement of punk Archer, she beats up various historical villains, like Hitler and Vlad the impaler. She's now a bad ass; being dead and in Hell gave her the confidence to shape her own destiny.
Briefly on how she died: Maddy had an adopted brother named Goran. In fact she had a lot of adopted siblings, all trotted out in front of the media before being sent to a nice boarding school. Goran was the newest, not yet cast off, but he's too surly and "ungrateful" to please Maddy's parents. Maddy is in love with him. I had a feeling that Goran killed Maddy, but that turns out to be something of a "comedy of errors" (though it's not really a comedy because a kid dies). Actually, they both do; Goran gets shanked in juvie and joins Maddy in Hell, and they reconcile. That is twisted and sweet, just right for this book.
Each chapter begins with Maddy addressing Satan, in a twist on Judy Blume. Maddy comes face to face with Satan near the end of the book, before she and her friends go to haunt earth for Halloween. She becomes determined to destroy him, and is convinced that he is intimidated by her. She goes to earth and she and Archer visit his and his sister's gravesite. She then goes and fucks with three girls at her old school, who are somewhat responsible for her death themselves. The book ends with her preparing to return to Hell and take on Satan once and for all.
This book is the first of a trilogy; the second volume, Doomed, was published last year. I definitely plan to continue reading about the adventures of Maddy Spencer's soul. I enjoy Palahniuk's fucked up world (and underworld). Look, our world is just as messed up for real, but rather than hide from it, his books help me laugh about it. Better to laugh than cry, I always say.
June 11, 2014
At long last, it is the eve of the last day of school. I'll officially be on summer vacation in two days, though I will still be focused on my comps and finishing up my master's degree, but I'll have that done by the end of the month. Then I can really enjoy my summer, for the first time in a while.
Palahniuk is one great author for summer reading, if you like what I would call his "light-hearted darkness." He makes light of disgusting aspects of reality, like racism and hypocrisy and pedophilia, and the thirteen-year-old narrator is so flip. Some might find it offensive, but Palahniuk just does what many other great writers have done, and holds a magnifying glass up to the worst parts of our society, of ourselves.
I'm making the book sound so profound, but it's really not. It's a fun read. Maddy Spencer is thirteen and is dead, and sent to Hell. The Hell in this book is absurd; nasty candy litters the ground, and good candy is currency. The landscape is composed of the nastiest things produced by the human body: oceans of sperm, rivers of bile, deserts of dandruff, swamps of aborted babies (it's specifically called the swamp of Partial-Birth Abortions)...and cockroaches are everywhere. Now, Maddy had been the daughter of a film producer and an actress, overweight and subjected to her parents' charitable publicity stunts and Hollywood lifestyle. She's chubby, insecure, precocious, and eager to please. She first believes that she died of a marijuana overdose, but since that obviously can't be true, the truth is eventually revealed.
Maddy thrives in Hell. She makes friends with other young souls, and they form a sort of self-described "undead Breakfast Club," with her as the Ally Sheedy character, of course. Her friends help her navigate her way through hell, and she actually comes to like it there. In her job as a telemarketer (in Palahniuk's hell, it's either that or Internet porn for making an income of candy), she encourages dying people over the phone to go to Hell, and when they arrive, they gravitate to her. Maddy, once a sharp-witted but shy girl, becomes a leader of her own Hellish army. With the encouragement of punk Archer, she beats up various historical villains, like Hitler and Vlad the impaler. She's now a bad ass; being dead and in Hell gave her the confidence to shape her own destiny.
Briefly on how she died: Maddy had an adopted brother named Goran. In fact she had a lot of adopted siblings, all trotted out in front of the media before being sent to a nice boarding school. Goran was the newest, not yet cast off, but he's too surly and "ungrateful" to please Maddy's parents. Maddy is in love with him. I had a feeling that Goran killed Maddy, but that turns out to be something of a "comedy of errors" (though it's not really a comedy because a kid dies). Actually, they both do; Goran gets shanked in juvie and joins Maddy in Hell, and they reconcile. That is twisted and sweet, just right for this book.
Each chapter begins with Maddy addressing Satan, in a twist on Judy Blume. Maddy comes face to face with Satan near the end of the book, before she and her friends go to haunt earth for Halloween. She becomes determined to destroy him, and is convinced that he is intimidated by her. She goes to earth and she and Archer visit his and his sister's gravesite. She then goes and fucks with three girls at her old school, who are somewhat responsible for her death themselves. The book ends with her preparing to return to Hell and take on Satan once and for all.
This book is the first of a trilogy; the second volume, Doomed, was published last year. I definitely plan to continue reading about the adventures of Maddy Spencer's soul. I enjoy Palahniuk's fucked up world (and underworld). Look, our world is just as messed up for real, but rather than hide from it, his books help me laugh about it. Better to laugh than cry, I always say.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Book #90: 1984
Book #90: 1984 by George Orwell
June 7, 2014
This book is one that many claim started the dystopian genre, one that I gravitate to, so reading this book was inevitable. Having recently taught my history class about World War II and totalitarianism (a word they found difficult to pronounce) helped to put this book (published in 1949) into context. Orwell imagines a world where totalitarianism, in the guise or under the name of communism, has taken over completely. The English-speaking world and South America make up Oceania, where Big Brother is the symbolic head of the superstate, which is constantly at war with either Eurasia (the rest of Europe and Russia) or Eastasia. Because of being constantly at war, common stuff is hard to come by. Everything pretty much sucks, and yet it is claimed that the Party (the English Socialist party, or Ingsoc) has improved life for the citizens of Oceania. Citizens (especially Party members) are constantly monitored by the government through the telescreens that are everywhere, to the point where every action or expression or word is scrutinized. And because of this, there's nothing that anybody can do about it.
The motives and methods of the Party seem a bit dated to me. The closest I can think would be the government of North Korea, where people live in constant fear, where their lives are strictly controlled, and where they are expected to worship their leader as a god, in place of religion. For most of the population, life is barren, they are overworked and undereducated and worse. But here's the difference. Kim Jong-Un is an actual person, and like his psychotic father, he enjoys the luxury and privilege that comes with his power. He lives it up as his people slave and starve; he does what he can to keep hold of his power in order to enjoy it. As far as I could tell, nobody was enjoying power in Orwell's imagined world. The system itself had all the power, that's the scary but ultimately strange thing. I mean, I could follow the philosophy of Ingsoc well enough as it was laid out, and I could understand how someone born into such a system would buy into it, but surely so many people around Winston's age or older would have the same kind of recollections and doubts, in spite of the efforts of the Ministry of Truth or the purges of human life.
The tone of the "Appendix" seems to suggest that the system does break down at some point. It does not explain how, but I think that human desire would ultimately overpower the mind-fuck tricks that the Party played with its members. Nowadays, it's not political ideologies going awry that we have to fear, but those same desires. The deadly ones, of course, especially greed. Today, a piece of dystopian literature would ring true if it were corporations, not governments, that ran things. The 'pure power' that Orwell describes does not exist. Everybody likes perks.
I did not like the characters in this book. Winston was kind of meh, but I guess that's what his world molded him into. I hated him when he swiftly agreed to do anything to have done tiny part in taking down the Party, including killing or maiming children. I felt bad for him later, especially when he was threatened with having his face eaten off by rats, but I didn't respect him. And everyone he trusted betrayed him; he had a feeling that he was doomed and he was right.
Julia was interesting at first. I could forgive the stupidity and disinterest she often displayed when Winston made important discoveries about the nature of the Party, but one scene killed her for me. She talks about defying the Party by wearing a dress and heels and makeup for Winston, rather than the Party regulation overalls. Essentially she's a vehicle for sexism and antifeminism; in rebelling, she's actually conforming to what (in the "real" world) is the standard for women. So, no real rebellion for women, then. I'll try to bear in mind that this book was published in the forties...
Overall I'd say this was an interesting book, even if the ideas inspiring it are mostly politically antiquated. However, the ideas of the public being lied to, watched, and subject to propaganda are very real, even in the "land of the free." Again, though, it's all driven by greed and money...there's certainly nothing pure about it.
June 7, 2014
This book is one that many claim started the dystopian genre, one that I gravitate to, so reading this book was inevitable. Having recently taught my history class about World War II and totalitarianism (a word they found difficult to pronounce) helped to put this book (published in 1949) into context. Orwell imagines a world where totalitarianism, in the guise or under the name of communism, has taken over completely. The English-speaking world and South America make up Oceania, where Big Brother is the symbolic head of the superstate, which is constantly at war with either Eurasia (the rest of Europe and Russia) or Eastasia. Because of being constantly at war, common stuff is hard to come by. Everything pretty much sucks, and yet it is claimed that the Party (the English Socialist party, or Ingsoc) has improved life for the citizens of Oceania. Citizens (especially Party members) are constantly monitored by the government through the telescreens that are everywhere, to the point where every action or expression or word is scrutinized. And because of this, there's nothing that anybody can do about it.
The motives and methods of the Party seem a bit dated to me. The closest I can think would be the government of North Korea, where people live in constant fear, where their lives are strictly controlled, and where they are expected to worship their leader as a god, in place of religion. For most of the population, life is barren, they are overworked and undereducated and worse. But here's the difference. Kim Jong-Un is an actual person, and like his psychotic father, he enjoys the luxury and privilege that comes with his power. He lives it up as his people slave and starve; he does what he can to keep hold of his power in order to enjoy it. As far as I could tell, nobody was enjoying power in Orwell's imagined world. The system itself had all the power, that's the scary but ultimately strange thing. I mean, I could follow the philosophy of Ingsoc well enough as it was laid out, and I could understand how someone born into such a system would buy into it, but surely so many people around Winston's age or older would have the same kind of recollections and doubts, in spite of the efforts of the Ministry of Truth or the purges of human life.
The tone of the "Appendix" seems to suggest that the system does break down at some point. It does not explain how, but I think that human desire would ultimately overpower the mind-fuck tricks that the Party played with its members. Nowadays, it's not political ideologies going awry that we have to fear, but those same desires. The deadly ones, of course, especially greed. Today, a piece of dystopian literature would ring true if it were corporations, not governments, that ran things. The 'pure power' that Orwell describes does not exist. Everybody likes perks.
I did not like the characters in this book. Winston was kind of meh, but I guess that's what his world molded him into. I hated him when he swiftly agreed to do anything to have done tiny part in taking down the Party, including killing or maiming children. I felt bad for him later, especially when he was threatened with having his face eaten off by rats, but I didn't respect him. And everyone he trusted betrayed him; he had a feeling that he was doomed and he was right.
Julia was interesting at first. I could forgive the stupidity and disinterest she often displayed when Winston made important discoveries about the nature of the Party, but one scene killed her for me. She talks about defying the Party by wearing a dress and heels and makeup for Winston, rather than the Party regulation overalls. Essentially she's a vehicle for sexism and antifeminism; in rebelling, she's actually conforming to what (in the "real" world) is the standard for women. So, no real rebellion for women, then. I'll try to bear in mind that this book was published in the forties...
Overall I'd say this was an interesting book, even if the ideas inspiring it are mostly politically antiquated. However, the ideas of the public being lied to, watched, and subject to propaganda are very real, even in the "land of the free." Again, though, it's all driven by greed and money...there's certainly nothing pure about it.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Book #89: The Twelve Tribes of Hattie
Book #89: The Twelve Tribes of Hattie by Ayana Mathis
June 1, 2014
This book is an example of how a random library pick can sometimes go right. This book mainly stood out to me on the shelves because there were multiple copies. I grappled over the "Oprah's Book Club 2.0" sticker. Some people poke fun at her book club choices, but I think she's got a taste for literature. When she skews more towards the inspirational, Mitch Albom-esque works, I steer clear. But Oprah often picks books that are real and dark and show the gritty side of American life, and of course many works that show a black perspective. This book is definitely the latter, the story of one big family struggling to make lives for themselves.
Hattie has a dark past. She comes from Georgia, where she was well-educated and her father was successful. But he was murdered by white competitors, and Hattie, her sisters, and their mother, like so many others at the time, fled north to seek a life free of discrimination and hardship. Well, Hattie immediately saw the difference in the way black people were treated on the streets of Philadelphia than in the streets if Atlanta, but she certainly did not leave hardship behind her. She began dating August, a caring but irresponsible young man, and got pregnant and married at 17.
The book is told from various perspectives. Each chapter is named for one or two of Hattie's children (except the last, Sala, who is her granddaughter). They show pieces of the lives of the Shepard family, and of the children as individuals. From the stories, I cannot tell the exact order of Hattie's children, but I have a pretty good guess. The stories are all in chronological order, but the children's ages vary in their individual stories. Here's a brief summary of what I know of each kid's life:
-Philadelphia and Jubilee: Hattie's first children; twins, a boy and a girl. They died in infancy; Hattie was too young and poor and scared to save them. Their deaths traumatized her, and made her fierce in the fight to keep the others alive...so much so that she forgot to show them kindness.
-Floyd: Oldest after the twins, I think. He is a trumpet player. He travels around and has many sexual encounters with women and men, though he realizes that he is gay. It being the 1940s, there's probably not much of a chance that he could live out his fantasy of having a steady male companion. He continues to live at home, when he's not traveling, for some years into his adulthood.
-Cassie: Next oldest, I think. She was grooming for Prom when Six was scalded. She suffers from schizophrenia in her adulthood; her story describes the voices she hears. Her parents have her committed.
-Bell: A pretty girl. She finds out about her mother's affair with Lawrence a year before Hattie takes Ruthie and briefly runs off with him. She later has an affair with Lawrence, to spite her cold mother. When Hattie finds out, they don't talk for years. Bell sleeps around, gets TB, and nearly lets herself die alone. It's her mother who saves her.
-Six: Six was burned by scalding water when he was a child. He became a soltitary, weak, angry boy. He takes his anger out on a weaker boy, Avery, beating him nearly to death when he'd been insulted. This results in Six accompanying the reverend on a southern baptist revival tour. Six is not a believer but he has a gift for preaching. He pursues this as a career, using his "healing powers" to take advantage of women.
-Alice: Closest to Billups, the only witness to his sexual abuse by a man who tutored them as children. This seems to have scarred her worse than Billy himself; she is married to a rich man, insecure in her position, and obsessed with keeping her brother dependent on her.
-Billups: AKA Billy. He wants to put the past behind him and stand alone as a man.
-Ruthie: Lawrence's child. Hattie went back to August when she realized that Lawrence, a gambler, was wven more unreliable than her husband.
-Franklin: I think Franklin is slightly younger than Ruthie...I was not clear on this. He once received a sound thrashing from Hattie for leaving the bathroom window open, letting in ran and warping the floor. He grew up to be a gambler himself...perhaps he is Lawrence's child as well. His wife Sissy left him because if this, and his drinking. His time in Vietnam only helped him to continue his drinking habit. He has a daughter named Lucille.
-Ella: The arrival of Ella forced Hattie to apply for welfare. Her wealthy and childless sister (her situation reminds me of Alice, though Alice's childlessness is a choice) adopts Ella and takes her to Georgia.
-Sala: Cassie's daughter who is angry and confused about her mother's mental illness and absence. Hattie attempts to give her the affection that she couldn't give her nine sieving children.
Hattie always struggles to do her best, and she has everything against her. This story could have been just as good if it were written in a more "conventional" style, but I think the pieces that each story gives tells the story of this family's struggles well enough. Oprah may be full of shit a lot of the time, but she knew what she was doing when she endorsed this book. I concur.
June 1, 2014
This book is an example of how a random library pick can sometimes go right. This book mainly stood out to me on the shelves because there were multiple copies. I grappled over the "Oprah's Book Club 2.0" sticker. Some people poke fun at her book club choices, but I think she's got a taste for literature. When she skews more towards the inspirational, Mitch Albom-esque works, I steer clear. But Oprah often picks books that are real and dark and show the gritty side of American life, and of course many works that show a black perspective. This book is definitely the latter, the story of one big family struggling to make lives for themselves.
Hattie has a dark past. She comes from Georgia, where she was well-educated and her father was successful. But he was murdered by white competitors, and Hattie, her sisters, and their mother, like so many others at the time, fled north to seek a life free of discrimination and hardship. Well, Hattie immediately saw the difference in the way black people were treated on the streets of Philadelphia than in the streets if Atlanta, but she certainly did not leave hardship behind her. She began dating August, a caring but irresponsible young man, and got pregnant and married at 17.
The book is told from various perspectives. Each chapter is named for one or two of Hattie's children (except the last, Sala, who is her granddaughter). They show pieces of the lives of the Shepard family, and of the children as individuals. From the stories, I cannot tell the exact order of Hattie's children, but I have a pretty good guess. The stories are all in chronological order, but the children's ages vary in their individual stories. Here's a brief summary of what I know of each kid's life:
-Philadelphia and Jubilee: Hattie's first children; twins, a boy and a girl. They died in infancy; Hattie was too young and poor and scared to save them. Their deaths traumatized her, and made her fierce in the fight to keep the others alive...so much so that she forgot to show them kindness.
-Floyd: Oldest after the twins, I think. He is a trumpet player. He travels around and has many sexual encounters with women and men, though he realizes that he is gay. It being the 1940s, there's probably not much of a chance that he could live out his fantasy of having a steady male companion. He continues to live at home, when he's not traveling, for some years into his adulthood.
-Cassie: Next oldest, I think. She was grooming for Prom when Six was scalded. She suffers from schizophrenia in her adulthood; her story describes the voices she hears. Her parents have her committed.
-Bell: A pretty girl. She finds out about her mother's affair with Lawrence a year before Hattie takes Ruthie and briefly runs off with him. She later has an affair with Lawrence, to spite her cold mother. When Hattie finds out, they don't talk for years. Bell sleeps around, gets TB, and nearly lets herself die alone. It's her mother who saves her.
-Six: Six was burned by scalding water when he was a child. He became a soltitary, weak, angry boy. He takes his anger out on a weaker boy, Avery, beating him nearly to death when he'd been insulted. This results in Six accompanying the reverend on a southern baptist revival tour. Six is not a believer but he has a gift for preaching. He pursues this as a career, using his "healing powers" to take advantage of women.
-Alice: Closest to Billups, the only witness to his sexual abuse by a man who tutored them as children. This seems to have scarred her worse than Billy himself; she is married to a rich man, insecure in her position, and obsessed with keeping her brother dependent on her.
-Billups: AKA Billy. He wants to put the past behind him and stand alone as a man.
-Ruthie: Lawrence's child. Hattie went back to August when she realized that Lawrence, a gambler, was wven more unreliable than her husband.
-Franklin: I think Franklin is slightly younger than Ruthie...I was not clear on this. He once received a sound thrashing from Hattie for leaving the bathroom window open, letting in ran and warping the floor. He grew up to be a gambler himself...perhaps he is Lawrence's child as well. His wife Sissy left him because if this, and his drinking. His time in Vietnam only helped him to continue his drinking habit. He has a daughter named Lucille.
-Ella: The arrival of Ella forced Hattie to apply for welfare. Her wealthy and childless sister (her situation reminds me of Alice, though Alice's childlessness is a choice) adopts Ella and takes her to Georgia.
-Sala: Cassie's daughter who is angry and confused about her mother's mental illness and absence. Hattie attempts to give her the affection that she couldn't give her nine sieving children.
Hattie always struggles to do her best, and she has everything against her. This story could have been just as good if it were written in a more "conventional" style, but I think the pieces that each story gives tells the story of this family's struggles well enough. Oprah may be full of shit a lot of the time, but she knew what she was doing when she endorsed this book. I concur.
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