Book & Film Reviews
April 27, 2019
The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming. David Wallace-Wells
This book about how climate change is affecting, and will affect, our lives begins with the words, “It is worse, much worse, than you think.” Yes, we’re in the worst sort of trouble, and we’re doing next to nothing about it. In David Wallace-Wells’ early section “Elements of Chaos,” we realize that we know something about these unfolding disasters: unbearable heat, failure of agriculture leading to mass starvation, rising sea levels in a dying ocean, global pandemics, disappearing fresh water supplies, and more. All lead to economic collapse and “climate conflict” (another term for “war”). What readers may not realize is that these climate-change effects are having a cascading or compounding effect on each other. And as we’ve seen in other “natural” disasters, the poor suffer the most and first, but not the last. In the end, he says, we’ll all suffer because “…the world has, at most, about three decades to completely decarbonize before truly devastating climate horrors begin.”
Perhaps the “Climate Kaleidoscope” section that follows is just as disturbing. It’s all about how it is that we humans can’t seem to get our heads around how we created this unfolding disaster. He reviews our human fallibility, including our mythmaking and storytelling in which we can’t find a way to address a story in which we are all the bad guys. There’s our passive acceptance of the growth model of capitalism; our religious-like belief that technology will save us; our pathetic notion that ethical consumption is the answer; and even more jarring, the notion of history (human history, that is) when history could very well end; plus the many and various dysfunctional ways some of us are coming up with a new ethics in the face of disaster.
Wallace-Wells’ book is also a call to action. “Eating organic is nice…but if your goal is to save the climate, your vote is much more important.” The book is enhanced by extensive notes and a decent index. Its primary shortcoming is its desperate need for an editor’s pencil. Wallace-Wells has a penchant for writing very, very long sentences that are very convoluted with multiple clauses and parenthetical phrases. I counted 106 words in one sentence. In an age in which attention spans are limited to 280 characters, Wallace-Wells’ inability to manage a reasonable sentence length does a disservice to the important message of this book. Even so, The Uninhabitable Earth is a must read.
The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming. David Wallace-Wells
This book about how climate change is affecting, and will affect, our lives begins with the words, “It is worse, much worse, than you think.” Yes, we’re in the worst sort of trouble, and we’re doing next to nothing about it. In David Wallace-Wells’ early section “Elements of Chaos,” we realize that we know something about these unfolding disasters: unbearable heat, failure of agriculture leading to mass starvation, rising sea levels in a dying ocean, global pandemics, disappearing fresh water supplies, and more. All lead to economic collapse and “climate conflict” (another term for “war”). What readers may not realize is that these climate-change effects are having a cascading or compounding effect on each other. And as we’ve seen in other “natural” disasters, the poor suffer the most and first, but not the last. In the end, he says, we’ll all suffer because “…the world has, at most, about three decades to completely decarbonize before truly devastating climate horrors begin.”
Perhaps the “Climate Kaleidoscope” section that follows is just as disturbing. It’s all about how it is that we humans can’t seem to get our heads around how we created this unfolding disaster. He reviews our human fallibility, including our mythmaking and storytelling in which we can’t find a way to address a story in which we are all the bad guys. There’s our passive acceptance of the growth model of capitalism; our religious-like belief that technology will save us; our pathetic notion that ethical consumption is the answer; and even more jarring, the notion of history (human history, that is) when history could very well end; plus the many and various dysfunctional ways some of us are coming up with a new ethics in the face of disaster.
Wallace-Wells’ book is also a call to action. “Eating organic is nice…but if your goal is to save the climate, your vote is much more important.” The book is enhanced by extensive notes and a decent index. Its primary shortcoming is its desperate need for an editor’s pencil. Wallace-Wells has a penchant for writing very, very long sentences that are very convoluted with multiple clauses and parenthetical phrases. I counted 106 words in one sentence. In an age in which attention spans are limited to 280 characters, Wallace-Wells’ inability to manage a reasonable sentence length does a disservice to the important message of this book. Even so, The Uninhabitable Earth is a must read.
December 29, 2018
Lethal Warriors. David Philipps
Lethal Warriors is a prime example of very high-quality journalism. The author, David Philipps, didn’t stop at a headline or two. He went deep, did thorough research, interviewed dozens of people, stepped back and took a look at the big picture, and then tied all the strings together to make a whole story. What we get in this book is an insightful understanding about the impact that war has on people, and in particular, the “combat stress injuries” and PTSD suffered by U.S. soldiers in the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars.
Philipps follows a group of soldiers stationed together in South Korea. They call themselves the Band of Brothers after the WWII group of the same name. Unexpectedly, the Band is sent to Iraq. They are ordered to patrol a road in the Sunni Triangle that they rename Route Michigan. They are on patrol every day. Some days nothing happens on patrol. Other days, IEDs explode and kill one or more of them. They never know what will happen when they patrol. The stress is constant and increasing. Then things get even worse when they are ordered to Al Dora, a section of Baghdad where chaos and violence reign.
The insurgent attacks on them are so frequent and so violent in Al Dora that several in the group begin to fall into deep depression and psychosis. Several suffer traumatic brain injuries. Most become, as the author puts it, “nihilistic and erratic.” Several begin to engage in acts of arbitrary, meaningless violence against the civilian population. They commit war crimes. The author describes some of these crimes. Truly awful.
Then they are sent home to Ft. Carson in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Rather than get help for their PTSD and combat stress injuries, the Army chooses to label them cowardly if they complain. They are “chaptered out,” meaning they are labeled as having a preexisting condition, that the war and PTSD isn’t the Army’s problem or responsibility. When they leave the Army, they are not eligible for benefits, including health and psychological care.
The Band of Brothers transforms into Lethal Warriors. They engage in burglaries, random drive-by shootings, domestic violence, and murder. Some of them have flashbacks so complete that they think they are back in Iraq fighting insurgents when actually they are in Colorado Springs killing local residents. Most of the Lethal Warriors are now in prison or dead.
The author pulls together all this data to show us what happened to these men. Even more frightening are indications that there are returned soldiers all over the U.S. who carry the same combat stress injuries within them. They are, in effect, ticking time bombs. They need help.
Reading this book is necessary to understanding the true impact of the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars on American soldiers. Highly recommended.
Lethal Warriors. David Philipps
Lethal Warriors is a prime example of very high-quality journalism. The author, David Philipps, didn’t stop at a headline or two. He went deep, did thorough research, interviewed dozens of people, stepped back and took a look at the big picture, and then tied all the strings together to make a whole story. What we get in this book is an insightful understanding about the impact that war has on people, and in particular, the “combat stress injuries” and PTSD suffered by U.S. soldiers in the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars.
Philipps follows a group of soldiers stationed together in South Korea. They call themselves the Band of Brothers after the WWII group of the same name. Unexpectedly, the Band is sent to Iraq. They are ordered to patrol a road in the Sunni Triangle that they rename Route Michigan. They are on patrol every day. Some days nothing happens on patrol. Other days, IEDs explode and kill one or more of them. They never know what will happen when they patrol. The stress is constant and increasing. Then things get even worse when they are ordered to Al Dora, a section of Baghdad where chaos and violence reign.
The insurgent attacks on them are so frequent and so violent in Al Dora that several in the group begin to fall into deep depression and psychosis. Several suffer traumatic brain injuries. Most become, as the author puts it, “nihilistic and erratic.” Several begin to engage in acts of arbitrary, meaningless violence against the civilian population. They commit war crimes. The author describes some of these crimes. Truly awful.
Then they are sent home to Ft. Carson in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Rather than get help for their PTSD and combat stress injuries, the Army chooses to label them cowardly if they complain. They are “chaptered out,” meaning they are labeled as having a preexisting condition, that the war and PTSD isn’t the Army’s problem or responsibility. When they leave the Army, they are not eligible for benefits, including health and psychological care.
The Band of Brothers transforms into Lethal Warriors. They engage in burglaries, random drive-by shootings, domestic violence, and murder. Some of them have flashbacks so complete that they think they are back in Iraq fighting insurgents when actually they are in Colorado Springs killing local residents. Most of the Lethal Warriors are now in prison or dead.
The author pulls together all this data to show us what happened to these men. Even more frightening are indications that there are returned soldiers all over the U.S. who carry the same combat stress injuries within them. They are, in effect, ticking time bombs. They need help.
Reading this book is necessary to understanding the true impact of the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars on American soldiers. Highly recommended.
December 28, 2018
The Line Becomes a River. Francisco Cantú
Beautifully written, lyrical, heartbreaking, brutal and sublime all describe Francisco Cantú’s book about the U.S.-Mexico Borderlands. After graduation from university studying international relations, Cantú decides to learn about the Border firsthand. So he works for the U.S. Border Patrol for four years. While working as an BP agent, he experiences everything we know about the Border, acts of kindness and acts of brutality, irrational policies, and plenty of human suffering. He begins to have reoccurring dreams of a wolf approaching him, and he fears for his own sanity. He writes about “moral injury” referring to trauma caused by participating in a moral transgression, often against one’s will. This term most often refers to soldiers in war but can also apply to law enforcement or, in this case, work in the U.S. Border Patrol.
In the final section of the book, Cantú befriends and attempts to help an undocumented worker who has spent most of his life in the U.S., is married, the father of three children, and a diligent worker and taxpayer. The man returns to Oaxaca briefly to visit his dying mother, and then finds that he cannot return to the U.S. despite repeated attempts. Yes, he is the kind of man we want as a citizen. And yet, the entire system is so irrational that he cannot find his place in America. It’s easy to say that those who insist on building a higher, longer wall or who demonize all immigrants, legal or otherwise, should read this book. Will they? Sadly, I doubt it.
The Line Becomes a River. Francisco Cantú
Beautifully written, lyrical, heartbreaking, brutal and sublime all describe Francisco Cantú’s book about the U.S.-Mexico Borderlands. After graduation from university studying international relations, Cantú decides to learn about the Border firsthand. So he works for the U.S. Border Patrol for four years. While working as an BP agent, he experiences everything we know about the Border, acts of kindness and acts of brutality, irrational policies, and plenty of human suffering. He begins to have reoccurring dreams of a wolf approaching him, and he fears for his own sanity. He writes about “moral injury” referring to trauma caused by participating in a moral transgression, often against one’s will. This term most often refers to soldiers in war but can also apply to law enforcement or, in this case, work in the U.S. Border Patrol.
In the final section of the book, Cantú befriends and attempts to help an undocumented worker who has spent most of his life in the U.S., is married, the father of three children, and a diligent worker and taxpayer. The man returns to Oaxaca briefly to visit his dying mother, and then finds that he cannot return to the U.S. despite repeated attempts. Yes, he is the kind of man we want as a citizen. And yet, the entire system is so irrational that he cannot find his place in America. It’s easy to say that those who insist on building a higher, longer wall or who demonize all immigrants, legal or otherwise, should read this book. Will they? Sadly, I doubt it.
November 30, 2018
The Real. Masha du Toit
The Real is the second in the Linked Worlds series by South Africa sci-fi and fantasy writer Marsha du Toit. The Real represents the “real world” as we humans know it, which contrasts with The Strange, a world inhabited by various species of extraterrestrials. The two worlds are joined by massive portals, the most important being The Babylon Eye.
In The Real, we follow two threads which quickly converge into one story. The first follows three parentless siblings who live alone in an abandoned hotel in an area called the Muara, a former seaside resort that has been destroyed by rising sea levels and storms. The children become interested in an abandoned facility in the Muara formerly inhabited by circus performers. The new inhabitants, though, have nothing to do with a circus and are behaving suspiciously, if not dangerously.
In the other story thread, we follow Elke Veraart, a fascinating character with a past as an eco-gangster. Elke has the unique ability to relate to and work with cybernetically-enhanced dogs known as gardags. Elke and her gardag Meisje perform an official function in the Babylon Eye similar to our Border Patrol. They keep the peace and make sure that nothing from The Strange goes into The Real, and that no Real world people go into the Strange.
Elke is warned that she is being set up as a criminal. Fearing that she will be jailed, and that her gardag will be euthanized, Elke flees the Babylon Eye with Meisje. She goes to the Muara to learn how to stop the attempt to set her up for a crime she did not commit. Elke soon joins the three siblings and they are off on a suspenseful and exciting adventure. Elke discovers the crime being committed and by whom. By that time, she and the children are all in serious danger.
The strengths of this book are many. The plot is complex enough to always be compelling, but never confusing. The characters, and that includes Elke, the three siblings, a mysterious man named Crosshatch, and even the bad guys, are all believable to the point that each could have his/her own story written in detail.
The relationship of these people to the natural world around them is unforgettable. Yes, the earth is suffering from various assaults (plastic being one), but it is a real world full of stunning beauty that du Toit writes about in a lyrical manner. One phrase caught me in its grip. Du Toit wrote about a river in the Muara: “the scent of the Vaal, dry grass and dust, cloud castles stacking up in the overarching sky” transported me back to my childhood in which I often played in a glimmering stream which meandered across the great North American prairie.
And there are the dogs. The wonderful dogs. There’s Robby, the goofy family dog belonging to the children who tries his best to love and protect them but who is nothing compared to the majesty of the gardags. And this book has not only Meisje but also an older, very wise gardag named Xun, plus her two wolf-dog sons that go with her everywhere.
It is no surprise that The Real was a finalist for the 2018 Nommo Award for Best Speculative Fiction Novel by an African. The Real is a terrific read. Don’t miss it!!
The Real. Masha du Toit
The Real is the second in the Linked Worlds series by South Africa sci-fi and fantasy writer Marsha du Toit. The Real represents the “real world” as we humans know it, which contrasts with The Strange, a world inhabited by various species of extraterrestrials. The two worlds are joined by massive portals, the most important being The Babylon Eye.
In The Real, we follow two threads which quickly converge into one story. The first follows three parentless siblings who live alone in an abandoned hotel in an area called the Muara, a former seaside resort that has been destroyed by rising sea levels and storms. The children become interested in an abandoned facility in the Muara formerly inhabited by circus performers. The new inhabitants, though, have nothing to do with a circus and are behaving suspiciously, if not dangerously.
In the other story thread, we follow Elke Veraart, a fascinating character with a past as an eco-gangster. Elke has the unique ability to relate to and work with cybernetically-enhanced dogs known as gardags. Elke and her gardag Meisje perform an official function in the Babylon Eye similar to our Border Patrol. They keep the peace and make sure that nothing from The Strange goes into The Real, and that no Real world people go into the Strange.
Elke is warned that she is being set up as a criminal. Fearing that she will be jailed, and that her gardag will be euthanized, Elke flees the Babylon Eye with Meisje. She goes to the Muara to learn how to stop the attempt to set her up for a crime she did not commit. Elke soon joins the three siblings and they are off on a suspenseful and exciting adventure. Elke discovers the crime being committed and by whom. By that time, she and the children are all in serious danger.
The strengths of this book are many. The plot is complex enough to always be compelling, but never confusing. The characters, and that includes Elke, the three siblings, a mysterious man named Crosshatch, and even the bad guys, are all believable to the point that each could have his/her own story written in detail.
The relationship of these people to the natural world around them is unforgettable. Yes, the earth is suffering from various assaults (plastic being one), but it is a real world full of stunning beauty that du Toit writes about in a lyrical manner. One phrase caught me in its grip. Du Toit wrote about a river in the Muara: “the scent of the Vaal, dry grass and dust, cloud castles stacking up in the overarching sky” transported me back to my childhood in which I often played in a glimmering stream which meandered across the great North American prairie.
And there are the dogs. The wonderful dogs. There’s Robby, the goofy family dog belonging to the children who tries his best to love and protect them but who is nothing compared to the majesty of the gardags. And this book has not only Meisje but also an older, very wise gardag named Xun, plus her two wolf-dog sons that go with her everywhere.
It is no surprise that The Real was a finalist for the 2018 Nommo Award for Best Speculative Fiction Novel by an African. The Real is a terrific read. Don’t miss it!!
June 19, 2018
The War on Normal People. Andrew Yang
I’ll admit. When I first heard about the idea of Universal Basic Income (UBC), I cynically thought that the chance of that happening in this country was as likely as gun control being implemented. Zero chance. Then I read Andrew Yang’s book The War on Normal People. He makes a very compelling argument for Universal Basic Income and Medicare for everyone. I also really like his "social credits" program which is in operation in a number of U.S. cities. Several countries are conducting small-scale UBI experiments now, among them Finland and Canada. There are UBI programs in place now in Alaska and Stockton, California. Yang’s ideas aren’t just pie-in-the sky. We have working models for change.
However, not often mentioned in reviews of his book is Yang’s detailed and very well-documented description of the social disintegration happening in our country – what he calls the Great Displacement. In particular, he documents what is happening to our men and boys. Most of the manufacturing jobs that have been lost were held by men, as are most of the jobs in transportation currently being lost. [Keep in mind that unemployment statistics are lower than the actual unemployment rate because the statistics only count those individuals looking for a job. If a man has given up finding a job, then he’s not counted in the unemployment statistics.]
I was shocked to learn how many people (again, most often males) are on disability. Millions of people! Disability is acting as a replacement for insubstantial or nonexistent unemployment insurance benefits for those who have been laid off from long-term jobs.
At every level and institution, Yang points out how we are failing our boys and men. The education system is structured to favor girls who mature faster and who are less “rowdy” than little boys (sports, PE, arts, music have all been cut), and there are not enough options for boys when/if they graduate from high school to do something other than go to college. Yang makes the argument that college is questionable now give that a) higher ed is incredibly expensive; 2) jobs are not that easy to find after college; 3) a lot of so-called white collar jobs are becoming subject to artificial intelligence/automation as well (medicine, finance, law, etc.); 4) and most compelling, maybe a young man prefers to work with his hands. Yang argues in favor of more technical and vocational education that lead to real job options after training. Someone fixed the air conditioning in Yang’s building when it broke down. The fixer wasn’t a computer. It was a trained worker.
Another problem affecting males is the lack of male parenting and mentorship. More and more families are female-headed which statistically leads to a high number of problems in boys and young men raised in those families. Yang has a high value for parenting. He has a wife and two sons. I give five stars to Yang for being the only man writing about current economic events who actually talks about the challenges and rewards of parenting.
Many of the people (again mainly men) who lose jobs often end up abusing various substances (opioids, alcohol), and if they are young, they choose video games over the grim and limited “real life” they are left with. He devotes an entire chapter to the intense appeal of gaming to young men. I read just yesterday that the World Health Organization has recognized “gaming disorder” as a mental health problem.
Our culture suffers from some failed ideas, especially that of “meritocracy.” Too many of us believe in the myth that if you are successful (read: you have money) that must mean you are working harder than everyone else. It dates back the Puritan idea that prosperity was a sign of God’s approval. If you were poor, then that was the sign that God didn’t love you. (this is most commonly called the Protestant Work Ethic). Today, Yang points out that there are many factors that hamper a person ever having an even chance of succeeding through hard work: where you are born, how much money your parents have, your sex, your race, and, yes, luck. Seriously. Do you think a kid that grows up in rural Madison County in the Arkansas Ozarks has the same chance at success as a kid born into a wealthy family in The Hamptons?
Yang’s book is about a lot more than Universal Basic Income. It’s about what’s wrong with America now. He’s asking us what we’re going to do about it. And he has some very good ideas about how to correct these growing problems. Andrew Yang is running for president. I figure the entrenched Old Guard of the Democratic Party is unlikely to give him a chance. The Republicans (devoted to assisting the already-rich) will do everything they can to undermine him. My hope is that Yang will be able to change the conversation we’re having in this country.
However, if Andrew Yang miraculously shows up on the ballot box in 2020, he’s got my vote.
The War on Normal People. Andrew Yang
I’ll admit. When I first heard about the idea of Universal Basic Income (UBC), I cynically thought that the chance of that happening in this country was as likely as gun control being implemented. Zero chance. Then I read Andrew Yang’s book The War on Normal People. He makes a very compelling argument for Universal Basic Income and Medicare for everyone. I also really like his "social credits" program which is in operation in a number of U.S. cities. Several countries are conducting small-scale UBI experiments now, among them Finland and Canada. There are UBI programs in place now in Alaska and Stockton, California. Yang’s ideas aren’t just pie-in-the sky. We have working models for change.
However, not often mentioned in reviews of his book is Yang’s detailed and very well-documented description of the social disintegration happening in our country – what he calls the Great Displacement. In particular, he documents what is happening to our men and boys. Most of the manufacturing jobs that have been lost were held by men, as are most of the jobs in transportation currently being lost. [Keep in mind that unemployment statistics are lower than the actual unemployment rate because the statistics only count those individuals looking for a job. If a man has given up finding a job, then he’s not counted in the unemployment statistics.]
I was shocked to learn how many people (again, most often males) are on disability. Millions of people! Disability is acting as a replacement for insubstantial or nonexistent unemployment insurance benefits for those who have been laid off from long-term jobs.
At every level and institution, Yang points out how we are failing our boys and men. The education system is structured to favor girls who mature faster and who are less “rowdy” than little boys (sports, PE, arts, music have all been cut), and there are not enough options for boys when/if they graduate from high school to do something other than go to college. Yang makes the argument that college is questionable now give that a) higher ed is incredibly expensive; 2) jobs are not that easy to find after college; 3) a lot of so-called white collar jobs are becoming subject to artificial intelligence/automation as well (medicine, finance, law, etc.); 4) and most compelling, maybe a young man prefers to work with his hands. Yang argues in favor of more technical and vocational education that lead to real job options after training. Someone fixed the air conditioning in Yang’s building when it broke down. The fixer wasn’t a computer. It was a trained worker.
Another problem affecting males is the lack of male parenting and mentorship. More and more families are female-headed which statistically leads to a high number of problems in boys and young men raised in those families. Yang has a high value for parenting. He has a wife and two sons. I give five stars to Yang for being the only man writing about current economic events who actually talks about the challenges and rewards of parenting.
Many of the people (again mainly men) who lose jobs often end up abusing various substances (opioids, alcohol), and if they are young, they choose video games over the grim and limited “real life” they are left with. He devotes an entire chapter to the intense appeal of gaming to young men. I read just yesterday that the World Health Organization has recognized “gaming disorder” as a mental health problem.
Our culture suffers from some failed ideas, especially that of “meritocracy.” Too many of us believe in the myth that if you are successful (read: you have money) that must mean you are working harder than everyone else. It dates back the Puritan idea that prosperity was a sign of God’s approval. If you were poor, then that was the sign that God didn’t love you. (this is most commonly called the Protestant Work Ethic). Today, Yang points out that there are many factors that hamper a person ever having an even chance of succeeding through hard work: where you are born, how much money your parents have, your sex, your race, and, yes, luck. Seriously. Do you think a kid that grows up in rural Madison County in the Arkansas Ozarks has the same chance at success as a kid born into a wealthy family in The Hamptons?
Yang’s book is about a lot more than Universal Basic Income. It’s about what’s wrong with America now. He’s asking us what we’re going to do about it. And he has some very good ideas about how to correct these growing problems. Andrew Yang is running for president. I figure the entrenched Old Guard of the Democratic Party is unlikely to give him a chance. The Republicans (devoted to assisting the already-rich) will do everything they can to undermine him. My hope is that Yang will be able to change the conversation we’re having in this country.
However, if Andrew Yang miraculously shows up on the ballot box in 2020, he’s got my vote.
May 4, 2018
No Time to Spare. Ursula Le Guin
No Time to Spare was published in December 2017 and author Ursula Le Guin died in January 2018. This collection of essays, blog posts and musings is not only highly readable, it demonstrates what an insightful thinker Ms. Le Guin was to the very end of her life. The book is divided into collections on these topics: Going Over Eighty (aging); The Lit Biz (writing and publishing); Trying to Make Sense of It (current social and political issues); and Rewards (those bright moments that make life worth living); all interspersed with The Annals of Pard, stories about her cat Pard.
I’ve noticed that reviewers tend to focus on the topic that has most relevance to their lives. For me that’s Going Over Eighty. I’m not there yet but if I’m lucky, I will be some day. Young folks need to read this section to learn: a) how stupid are some of the notions held and comments made by most people about aging b) "Old age is for anybody who gets there" ; c) There is a certain diminishment, physical in particular, that comes with aging, made ever so much worse by cultural and social views of the elderly, especially the unconscious lack of respect; d) the way she plays with “no time to spare” and “no spare time” is motivating.
Also in the Rewards collection, the encounter with a rattlesnake spoke to me because I’ve encountered them multiple times in my life. They are mysterious, beautiful in their own way, and scary as hell. Her love affair was a lynx is noteworthy as well. Wild creatures, a dark sky, the desert in spring. She makes me pay attention.
Mmmph to you, Ursula.
No Time to Spare. Ursula Le Guin
No Time to Spare was published in December 2017 and author Ursula Le Guin died in January 2018. This collection of essays, blog posts and musings is not only highly readable, it demonstrates what an insightful thinker Ms. Le Guin was to the very end of her life. The book is divided into collections on these topics: Going Over Eighty (aging); The Lit Biz (writing and publishing); Trying to Make Sense of It (current social and political issues); and Rewards (those bright moments that make life worth living); all interspersed with The Annals of Pard, stories about her cat Pard.
I’ve noticed that reviewers tend to focus on the topic that has most relevance to their lives. For me that’s Going Over Eighty. I’m not there yet but if I’m lucky, I will be some day. Young folks need to read this section to learn: a) how stupid are some of the notions held and comments made by most people about aging b) "Old age is for anybody who gets there" ; c) There is a certain diminishment, physical in particular, that comes with aging, made ever so much worse by cultural and social views of the elderly, especially the unconscious lack of respect; d) the way she plays with “no time to spare” and “no spare time” is motivating.
Also in the Rewards collection, the encounter with a rattlesnake spoke to me because I’ve encountered them multiple times in my life. They are mysterious, beautiful in their own way, and scary as hell. Her love affair was a lynx is noteworthy as well. Wild creatures, a dark sky, the desert in spring. She makes me pay attention.
Mmmph to you, Ursula.
April 2, 2018
I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika Sanchez
I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter is so full of humor, sadness, compassion, and heart that it’s not surprising this book was a finalist for a National Book Award. Julia (be sure to pronounce that the Spanish way!!) is a teenager with multiple problems. She just doesn’t fit in, and she doesn’t behave in the way a proper Mexican daughter should behave. She dresses all wrong, she talks all wrong (such a smart ass!), and worst of all, she wants to leave her family and go off to college. She has dreams of traveling the world and becoming a great writer. She’s quite unlike her “perfect” older sister Olga who is content with a lot less.
The book opens with Julia attempting to deal with Olga’s sudden death in a traffic accident. Then, to her surprise, Julia discovers evidence that Olga wasn’t quite as perfect as everyone thought. Julia’s parents, both undocumented workers, are little help. Her father never talks, and her mother is stuck in a fearful and emotionally very distressed place where she can only condemn everything important to Julia, and then finally, condemns Julia herself. She forces Julia to go through the quinceañera celebration-from-hell which is both funny and sad. We watch Julia struggle to define herself as she sinks into growing depression and hopelessness. It takes a near-tragedy for Julia’s mother to recognize her daughter’s value and to start showing some real love and compassion for Julia’s uniqueness. Meanwhile, Julia learns some things about her parents, and her mother in particular, that helps Julia develop some understanding and forgiveness for her mother who has suffered great trauma.
As I was reading this book, I was thinking about my grandmother who entered the U.S. as an immigrant when she was five years old. Like Julia, my grandmother liked doing her own thing and was constantly at odds with her parents, especially her old-world mother. First-generation immigrants have unique struggles. My heart goes out to them all, be they from Mexico, Iraq, Sudan, Nepal, or northern Italy.
I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika Sanchez
I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter is so full of humor, sadness, compassion, and heart that it’s not surprising this book was a finalist for a National Book Award. Julia (be sure to pronounce that the Spanish way!!) is a teenager with multiple problems. She just doesn’t fit in, and she doesn’t behave in the way a proper Mexican daughter should behave. She dresses all wrong, she talks all wrong (such a smart ass!), and worst of all, she wants to leave her family and go off to college. She has dreams of traveling the world and becoming a great writer. She’s quite unlike her “perfect” older sister Olga who is content with a lot less.
The book opens with Julia attempting to deal with Olga’s sudden death in a traffic accident. Then, to her surprise, Julia discovers evidence that Olga wasn’t quite as perfect as everyone thought. Julia’s parents, both undocumented workers, are little help. Her father never talks, and her mother is stuck in a fearful and emotionally very distressed place where she can only condemn everything important to Julia, and then finally, condemns Julia herself. She forces Julia to go through the quinceañera celebration-from-hell which is both funny and sad. We watch Julia struggle to define herself as she sinks into growing depression and hopelessness. It takes a near-tragedy for Julia’s mother to recognize her daughter’s value and to start showing some real love and compassion for Julia’s uniqueness. Meanwhile, Julia learns some things about her parents, and her mother in particular, that helps Julia develop some understanding and forgiveness for her mother who has suffered great trauma.
As I was reading this book, I was thinking about my grandmother who entered the U.S. as an immigrant when she was five years old. Like Julia, my grandmother liked doing her own thing and was constantly at odds with her parents, especially her old-world mother. First-generation immigrants have unique struggles. My heart goes out to them all, be they from Mexico, Iraq, Sudan, Nepal, or northern Italy.
International Mystery-Suspense TV on Netflix
March, 2018
Netflix has collected together a great selection of film and tv shows from countries other than the U.S. If you are a mystery fan and subscribe to Netflix, try these.
Shetland (Scotland). Seasons 1-3 available
Based on the novels of Anne Cleves, Shetland takes place on the Shetland Islands in the North Sea, part of Scotland’s archipelago. Shetland is a police procedural starring Douglas Henshall as Detective Inspector Jimmy Perez. This series has great stories, great characters, amazingly beautiful seascapes, and wonderful music. As a Sonoran Desert dweller, I’m pretty sure I would last about five minutes in a place described as “subarctic.” But I can enjoy the scenery on screen.
March, 2018
Netflix has collected together a great selection of film and tv shows from countries other than the U.S. If you are a mystery fan and subscribe to Netflix, try these.
Shetland (Scotland). Seasons 1-3 available
Based on the novels of Anne Cleves, Shetland takes place on the Shetland Islands in the North Sea, part of Scotland’s archipelago. Shetland is a police procedural starring Douglas Henshall as Detective Inspector Jimmy Perez. This series has great stories, great characters, amazingly beautiful seascapes, and wonderful music. As a Sonoran Desert dweller, I’m pretty sure I would last about five minutes in a place described as “subarctic.” But I can enjoy the scenery on screen.
Four Seasons in Havana (Cuba), 4 episodes
Four Seasons is a police procedural set in Cuba, created as a joint Spanish-Cuban project. The series is based on the novels of Leonardo Padura. We follow the investigations of middle aged cop Mario Conde played by Jorge Perrugoria who smokes and drinks and womanizes his way through various investigations while somehow maintaining his personal integrity. This takes place during the 1990s when Cuba was going through an especially difficult economic time in which corruption was rampant. The cinematography in this series is especially noteworthy with stunning images of Havana, and terrific noir jazz music included.
Four Seasons is a police procedural set in Cuba, created as a joint Spanish-Cuban project. The series is based on the novels of Leonardo Padura. We follow the investigations of middle aged cop Mario Conde played by Jorge Perrugoria who smokes and drinks and womanizes his way through various investigations while somehow maintaining his personal integrity. This takes place during the 1990s when Cuba was going through an especially difficult economic time in which corruption was rampant. The cinematography in this series is especially noteworthy with stunning images of Havana, and terrific noir jazz music included.
The Code (Australia), 6 episodes
This is a taunt, suspenseful thriller about two brothers who stumble upon corporate and government crime. One brother is a journalist and the other younger brother is an autistic hacker who can’t stay away from computers. They receive a video of an accident (and murder) that occurs in the Outback. Aboriginal land rights are a factor in this very intelligent and suspenseful thriller.
This is a taunt, suspenseful thriller about two brothers who stumble upon corporate and government crime. One brother is a journalist and the other younger brother is an autistic hacker who can’t stay away from computers. They receive a video of an accident (and murder) that occurs in the Outback. Aboriginal land rights are a factor in this very intelligent and suspenseful thriller.
Dicte (Denmark), 3 seasons
Dicte Svendsen, a crime reporter for a Danish newspaper, is driven, impulsive, and great at solving crimes. Integrated into the stories are the important people in Dicte’s life: her daughter, her two best friends, her ex-husband, her on-again, and off-again, on-again boyfriend who is a photographer at her newspaper. There’s also a police officer, John Wagner, with whom Dicte often collaborates despite his fruitless efforts to keep her out of police business.
Dicte Svendsen, a crime reporter for a Danish newspaper, is driven, impulsive, and great at solving crimes. Integrated into the stories are the important people in Dicte’s life: her daughter, her two best friends, her ex-husband, her on-again, and off-again, on-again boyfriend who is a photographer at her newspaper. There’s also a police officer, John Wagner, with whom Dicte often collaborates despite his fruitless efforts to keep her out of police business.
Stranger (South Korea) (also Secret Forest, and Forest of Secrets) Season 1: 16 episodes
Chosen by the New York Times as one of the best international tv shows in 2017, we follow the collaboration between a prosecutor swimming in a sea of government-corporate corruption, and a police detective determined to help him solve a murder. The prosecutor, due to a childhod brain surgery, lacks empathy and emotion, but he has plenty of integrity and intelligence. The cop is warm-hearted, compassionate, brave, has a great sense of humor, and she’s smart as a whip. The plot is complex and will keep you on your toes. Other than off-screen murders at the beginning and the end of the story, there is virtually no violence. Stranger is a brainy mystery-suspense story.
Chosen by the New York Times as one of the best international tv shows in 2017, we follow the collaboration between a prosecutor swimming in a sea of government-corporate corruption, and a police detective determined to help him solve a murder. The prosecutor, due to a childhod brain surgery, lacks empathy and emotion, but he has plenty of integrity and intelligence. The cop is warm-hearted, compassionate, brave, has a great sense of humor, and she’s smart as a whip. The plot is complex and will keep you on your toes. Other than off-screen murders at the beginning and the end of the story, there is virtually no violence. Stranger is a brainy mystery-suspense story.
March 3, 2018
The Leavers by Lisa Ko
Lisa Ko’s The Leavers is an especially well-written book that looks at some key issues in American life: the experience of immigrants, especially undocumented immigrants, first-generation children of immigrants, the mother-child relationship, adoption across racial and cultural lines, and a topic rarely addressed in reviews of this book, the meaning of The American Dream.
Polly Guo, poor in money and education but rich in ambition and drive, leaves her small town home in Fuzhou Province, PR China, to go to work in the sweatshop factories of southeast China. Then she has a chance to go to America to work. This involves paying an astronomical fee to a smuggler with years of debt-repayment so she can work in the sweatshop factories of New York City. Polly has a problem. She’s pregnant, and despite her efforts to get an abortion first in China and then in New York City, she fails. Deming Guo is born in New York, a citizen of the U.S.
Polly doesn’t get paid enough to pay back her loan, pay for living expenses, and pay for child care. So she, like so very many undocumented workers, sends Deming back to China to live with his grandfather. When his grandfather dies, Polly arranges for Deming to be returned to New York. They live with Polly’s boyfriend Leon and his sister Vivian (both undocumented workers from China, too), and Vivian’s son Michael who becomes Deming’s best friend and brother in spirit. Deming enters elementary school, and despite the distress of losing his grandfather and coming to America to live with a mother he doesn’t even know, Deming learns to adjust.
Polly starts talking about moving to Florida. Polly is a free spirit who wants to see the world, to make more money, to have adventures, and, as she states, to have enough money “to buy useless things.” She wants and she wants and she wants, often to the point that she doesn’t consider those around her. Or as her boyfriend Leon says, “You only want to go to Florida for yourself. Not for Deming or me. It’s always about you…..You’re not a nice person sometimes.” Polly constantly talks about how she loves her son, and she does. But he’s also a major inconvenience. Then one day she doesn’t come home from work, and no one knows where she is. Deming is convinced that she left him again, this time for Florida. But he doesn’t really know and not knowing is a burden. Deming ends up being adopted as an abandoned child to an affluent, white, culturally insensitive but well-meaning couple of college professors in upstate New York. Deming is renamed Daniel.
Ko constructed her book in a very clever way. The chapters about Deming/Daniel are written from his point of view but in the third person. We learn that he decides no one can be trusted and he best not get close to anyone. He decides, “If he held everyone at arm’s length, it wouldn’t hurt as much when they disappeared.” He ends up engaging in some dysfunctional behavior (especially gambling), and he pretty much feels lost most of the time. At the same time, Daniel discovers the world of music, the lights and colors that sounds produce in his head, and the act of artistic creation. Still, he cannot resolve himself to Polly’s disappearance, and he feels his life is on hold.
Chapters about Polly are all written in the first person. That was Ko’s great move as a writer. To discover the deeply conflicted nature of Polly Guo, her desire for wealth and respect pitted against her unformed drive toward self-fulfillment and for the love for her son, could only be revealed by Polly herself. Knowing her thoughts allows Polly to explain and justify to herself actions that are at best ambivalent and sometimes cold-hearted. Polly has ambition but she doesn’t have the internal resources to know what will really make her feel self-fulfilled, free and happy. So she chases money instead.
What underlies these two people is a search for the American Dream. But what does that mean? For immigrants, it often means escape from danger and an opportunity to escape poverty, too. But then, so very often, it turns into a chase after material wealth and a desire for public recognition and respect – or “face” as the Chinese put it. Since famine and then anarchy and chaos during Cultural Revolution, the Chinese have been deeply concerned about the loss of spiritual depth. Many have returned to traditional Confucian vales and others have turned to religion, including Christianity. They also are deeply concerned about personal economic welfare. They may chase the Chinese Dream or they may come to the U.S. and chase the American Dream. But for many Chinese, the definition is to be able “to buy useless stuff.”
That applies not just to the Chinese, but also to many Americans who seem to be on an endless treadmill of making money so they can “keep up with” or better the Joneses, to buy the latest digital gadget, to be take an expensive vacation in the tropics so they can forget for just a week or two that they are virtually slaves at their jobs.
Deming/Daniel has to struggle with the meaning of the American Dream. He finds it eventually, not by becoming a professor like his adopted parents, or by becoming the director of an English-language school which is Polly’s ambition for him (they all demand that he fill out multiple forms). After several missteps, Daniel discovers that he is an American boy who lives for music and who has deep family-like relationships with Michael and other friends. Even Polly eventually discovers that chasing after the almighty yuan isn’t going to make her happy and she leaves yet again, this time for a destination that seems especially appropriate for her.
Ko’s book ends happily but with a serious question for each of us to ponder. What exactly is The American Dream?
SPOILER ALERT: When Polly doesn’t come home from work, it wasn’t because she took off for Florida. She had been caught in an ICE raid and sent to a detention center in Texas for undocumented (illegal) workers. She was traumatized by this event as are most of the individuals who suffer this fate. To learn about these detention centers and how long the detained have to stay there, go to the Syracuse University website: http://trac.syr.edu/immigration/reports/321/
Even worse are the ones who cross the border in the desert, get lost, and die from heat and water deprivation. To learn more go to: Humane Borders https://humaneborders.org/ and No More Deaths http://forms.nomoredeaths.org/en/ The United States desperately needs immigration reform (not a $25 billion dollar 30-foot high wall). As long as dysfunctional immigration laws prevail, we’ll continue to see (and largely ignore) more suffering.
The Leavers by Lisa Ko
Lisa Ko’s The Leavers is an especially well-written book that looks at some key issues in American life: the experience of immigrants, especially undocumented immigrants, first-generation children of immigrants, the mother-child relationship, adoption across racial and cultural lines, and a topic rarely addressed in reviews of this book, the meaning of The American Dream.
Polly Guo, poor in money and education but rich in ambition and drive, leaves her small town home in Fuzhou Province, PR China, to go to work in the sweatshop factories of southeast China. Then she has a chance to go to America to work. This involves paying an astronomical fee to a smuggler with years of debt-repayment so she can work in the sweatshop factories of New York City. Polly has a problem. She’s pregnant, and despite her efforts to get an abortion first in China and then in New York City, she fails. Deming Guo is born in New York, a citizen of the U.S.
Polly doesn’t get paid enough to pay back her loan, pay for living expenses, and pay for child care. So she, like so very many undocumented workers, sends Deming back to China to live with his grandfather. When his grandfather dies, Polly arranges for Deming to be returned to New York. They live with Polly’s boyfriend Leon and his sister Vivian (both undocumented workers from China, too), and Vivian’s son Michael who becomes Deming’s best friend and brother in spirit. Deming enters elementary school, and despite the distress of losing his grandfather and coming to America to live with a mother he doesn’t even know, Deming learns to adjust.
Polly starts talking about moving to Florida. Polly is a free spirit who wants to see the world, to make more money, to have adventures, and, as she states, to have enough money “to buy useless things.” She wants and she wants and she wants, often to the point that she doesn’t consider those around her. Or as her boyfriend Leon says, “You only want to go to Florida for yourself. Not for Deming or me. It’s always about you…..You’re not a nice person sometimes.” Polly constantly talks about how she loves her son, and she does. But he’s also a major inconvenience. Then one day she doesn’t come home from work, and no one knows where she is. Deming is convinced that she left him again, this time for Florida. But he doesn’t really know and not knowing is a burden. Deming ends up being adopted as an abandoned child to an affluent, white, culturally insensitive but well-meaning couple of college professors in upstate New York. Deming is renamed Daniel.
Ko constructed her book in a very clever way. The chapters about Deming/Daniel are written from his point of view but in the third person. We learn that he decides no one can be trusted and he best not get close to anyone. He decides, “If he held everyone at arm’s length, it wouldn’t hurt as much when they disappeared.” He ends up engaging in some dysfunctional behavior (especially gambling), and he pretty much feels lost most of the time. At the same time, Daniel discovers the world of music, the lights and colors that sounds produce in his head, and the act of artistic creation. Still, he cannot resolve himself to Polly’s disappearance, and he feels his life is on hold.
Chapters about Polly are all written in the first person. That was Ko’s great move as a writer. To discover the deeply conflicted nature of Polly Guo, her desire for wealth and respect pitted against her unformed drive toward self-fulfillment and for the love for her son, could only be revealed by Polly herself. Knowing her thoughts allows Polly to explain and justify to herself actions that are at best ambivalent and sometimes cold-hearted. Polly has ambition but she doesn’t have the internal resources to know what will really make her feel self-fulfilled, free and happy. So she chases money instead.
What underlies these two people is a search for the American Dream. But what does that mean? For immigrants, it often means escape from danger and an opportunity to escape poverty, too. But then, so very often, it turns into a chase after material wealth and a desire for public recognition and respect – or “face” as the Chinese put it. Since famine and then anarchy and chaos during Cultural Revolution, the Chinese have been deeply concerned about the loss of spiritual depth. Many have returned to traditional Confucian vales and others have turned to religion, including Christianity. They also are deeply concerned about personal economic welfare. They may chase the Chinese Dream or they may come to the U.S. and chase the American Dream. But for many Chinese, the definition is to be able “to buy useless stuff.”
That applies not just to the Chinese, but also to many Americans who seem to be on an endless treadmill of making money so they can “keep up with” or better the Joneses, to buy the latest digital gadget, to be take an expensive vacation in the tropics so they can forget for just a week or two that they are virtually slaves at their jobs.
Deming/Daniel has to struggle with the meaning of the American Dream. He finds it eventually, not by becoming a professor like his adopted parents, or by becoming the director of an English-language school which is Polly’s ambition for him (they all demand that he fill out multiple forms). After several missteps, Daniel discovers that he is an American boy who lives for music and who has deep family-like relationships with Michael and other friends. Even Polly eventually discovers that chasing after the almighty yuan isn’t going to make her happy and she leaves yet again, this time for a destination that seems especially appropriate for her.
Ko’s book ends happily but with a serious question for each of us to ponder. What exactly is The American Dream?
SPOILER ALERT: When Polly doesn’t come home from work, it wasn’t because she took off for Florida. She had been caught in an ICE raid and sent to a detention center in Texas for undocumented (illegal) workers. She was traumatized by this event as are most of the individuals who suffer this fate. To learn about these detention centers and how long the detained have to stay there, go to the Syracuse University website: http://trac.syr.edu/immigration/reports/321/
Even worse are the ones who cross the border in the desert, get lost, and die from heat and water deprivation. To learn more go to: Humane Borders https://humaneborders.org/ and No More Deaths http://forms.nomoredeaths.org/en/ The United States desperately needs immigration reform (not a $25 billion dollar 30-foot high wall). As long as dysfunctional immigration laws prevail, we’ll continue to see (and largely ignore) more suffering.
Rock With Wings by Anne Hillerman
March 4, 2018
I'm finding that mystery/suspense readers have a range of expectations from the books they read. Some want nothing but action, action, action. Others like a lot of character development and background exposition along with the action.
Anne Hillerman's Rock with Wings will frustrate the action, action, action crowd. This book starts with a tense scene in which Navajo cop Bernie Manuelito stops a speeding motorist. She finds a box of dirt in his car. He tries to bribe her and she ends up arresting him. Then we go into a rather lengthy exploration of Bernie's relationship with her sister and mother, and her husband Chee's relationship with a clansman. I am interested in native culture and social relationships so I continued to be interested. Eventually we get around to some action for both these tribal policemen who have to solve mysteries and confront danger. I enjoyed reading this book, and I will continue to read Anne Hillerman.
March 4, 2018
I'm finding that mystery/suspense readers have a range of expectations from the books they read. Some want nothing but action, action, action. Others like a lot of character development and background exposition along with the action.
Anne Hillerman's Rock with Wings will frustrate the action, action, action crowd. This book starts with a tense scene in which Navajo cop Bernie Manuelito stops a speeding motorist. She finds a box of dirt in his car. He tries to bribe her and she ends up arresting him. Then we go into a rather lengthy exploration of Bernie's relationship with her sister and mother, and her husband Chee's relationship with a clansman. I am interested in native culture and social relationships so I continued to be interested. Eventually we get around to some action for both these tribal policemen who have to solve mysteries and confront danger. I enjoyed reading this book, and I will continue to read Anne Hillerman.
Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker
February 24, 2018
Without a doubt, this is one of the most important books I’ve read in years. I keep up with health-related news, but I had no idea how important adequate sleep is for maintaining health. I was genuinely shocked to discover just how bad (bad, bad, bad) it is for our health when we’re not getting enough sleep. Lack of sleep doesn’t just make you grumpy. Inadequate sleep has a direct relationship to serious mental and physical health-related problems. Who knew that blood sugar levels would rise so dramatically to the point of becoming pre-diabetic when you go without enough sleep? Who knew that your immune system would become so compromised by inadequate sleep that a flu shot would be 40% less effective?
The author, Matthew Walker, documents and proves his assertions with references to numerous scientific studies. He describes inadequate sleep as a global health problem. He informs us of how sleep patterns change throughout our lives requiring personal adjustment. He documents how inadequate sleep is affecting the work place and our educational system, not to mention the very personal health problems it causes. Walker also discusses key problems leading to inadequate sleep: lighting, temperature, substance abuse (caffeine and alcohol in particular), and the lack of a regular sleep pattern. He makes suggestions of how to change our lives in service of adequate sleep.
I’ve had a problem with getting enough sleep for years. This book made me a believer. I’m putting “sleep hygiene” high on my list of concerns related to healthy living.
February 24, 2018
Without a doubt, this is one of the most important books I’ve read in years. I keep up with health-related news, but I had no idea how important adequate sleep is for maintaining health. I was genuinely shocked to discover just how bad (bad, bad, bad) it is for our health when we’re not getting enough sleep. Lack of sleep doesn’t just make you grumpy. Inadequate sleep has a direct relationship to serious mental and physical health-related problems. Who knew that blood sugar levels would rise so dramatically to the point of becoming pre-diabetic when you go without enough sleep? Who knew that your immune system would become so compromised by inadequate sleep that a flu shot would be 40% less effective?
The author, Matthew Walker, documents and proves his assertions with references to numerous scientific studies. He describes inadequate sleep as a global health problem. He informs us of how sleep patterns change throughout our lives requiring personal adjustment. He documents how inadequate sleep is affecting the work place and our educational system, not to mention the very personal health problems it causes. Walker also discusses key problems leading to inadequate sleep: lighting, temperature, substance abuse (caffeine and alcohol in particular), and the lack of a regular sleep pattern. He makes suggestions of how to change our lives in service of adequate sleep.
I’ve had a problem with getting enough sleep for years. This book made me a believer. I’m putting “sleep hygiene” high on my list of concerns related to healthy living.
Half of the World in Light by Juan Felipe Herrera
January 28, 2018
This collection of poems covers the years 1969 to the year of the book’s publication, 2008. As a consequence, readers get to see the development of Herrera’s poems over a long period. He has been described as being deeply grounded in his Chicano culture, and this is certainly true. He writes as the child of migrant farm workers, but also as a politically-aware Chicano activist. He draws often on Aztlan themes, and he clearly identifies with oppressed minorities in other parts of the world, not just in the U.S.
Herrera’s poems are very personal to the point that they often become inaccessible, especially for those not as knowledgeable about events in Latin America and also the Aztec/Nahuatl heritage that he claims. My four stars, not five, reflect my personal response to Herrera’s poems, not his ability as a poet. Herrera’s poems did not capture me the way that Mary Oliver, my favorite, captures me. Nature, not Aztlan, calls to me. However, there is one exception - really two poems that go together.
“Ơyeme Mamita: Standing on 20th & Harrison” describes in a heartbreaking manner how a loving parent can unwittingly crush the aspirations of an emerging artist. “Remember when you told me one night in the early eighties, ‘I am worried about you, Juanito?’ And I turned around from my miniature writing table, second floor Capp Street, apartment #10, and froze? Your voice had a ruffled and serious timbre. Recognized it and looked away from the small amber light about my head. ‘I see you looking at yourself put letters on paper,’ you said. All my illusions of being a poet shrank, the wings of the eagle writer that sees all twittered into the shadow of a sparrow, a wavy blot of cold ink on a yellow legal pad.”
Every artist who had to struggle to fulfill his/her vision, who has been told that art is okay as a hobby but making a good living must always come first, that aspiring to be an artist means you are pretentious or just silly, will strongly relate to this.
Later, later, later, many poems later, Herrera writes another poem,
“Ơyeme, Mamita: I am that paper
I am that paper, I am those words now, the ink burns pyres in every cell.
When I look out to the trees, the long winding streets of Tortilla Flats, as
they shoot to the hills and cut the electric rails of the Muni buses to the
towers and Twin Peaks, the fog and into the sky haze, I see your signs, I read
your voice, now I do. Yes.
Ơyeme, Mamita, óyeme -- now that you are gone into the deep and silent
luminous fallen side of the night. Ơyeme.”
Juan Felipe Herrera found his voice, his words, his paper, and his ink. He served as Poet Laureate of the United States from 2015 to 2017.
January 28, 2018
This collection of poems covers the years 1969 to the year of the book’s publication, 2008. As a consequence, readers get to see the development of Herrera’s poems over a long period. He has been described as being deeply grounded in his Chicano culture, and this is certainly true. He writes as the child of migrant farm workers, but also as a politically-aware Chicano activist. He draws often on Aztlan themes, and he clearly identifies with oppressed minorities in other parts of the world, not just in the U.S.
Herrera’s poems are very personal to the point that they often become inaccessible, especially for those not as knowledgeable about events in Latin America and also the Aztec/Nahuatl heritage that he claims. My four stars, not five, reflect my personal response to Herrera’s poems, not his ability as a poet. Herrera’s poems did not capture me the way that Mary Oliver, my favorite, captures me. Nature, not Aztlan, calls to me. However, there is one exception - really two poems that go together.
“Ơyeme Mamita: Standing on 20th & Harrison” describes in a heartbreaking manner how a loving parent can unwittingly crush the aspirations of an emerging artist. “Remember when you told me one night in the early eighties, ‘I am worried about you, Juanito?’ And I turned around from my miniature writing table, second floor Capp Street, apartment #10, and froze? Your voice had a ruffled and serious timbre. Recognized it and looked away from the small amber light about my head. ‘I see you looking at yourself put letters on paper,’ you said. All my illusions of being a poet shrank, the wings of the eagle writer that sees all twittered into the shadow of a sparrow, a wavy blot of cold ink on a yellow legal pad.”
Every artist who had to struggle to fulfill his/her vision, who has been told that art is okay as a hobby but making a good living must always come first, that aspiring to be an artist means you are pretentious or just silly, will strongly relate to this.
Later, later, later, many poems later, Herrera writes another poem,
“Ơyeme, Mamita: I am that paper
I am that paper, I am those words now, the ink burns pyres in every cell.
When I look out to the trees, the long winding streets of Tortilla Flats, as
they shoot to the hills and cut the electric rails of the Muni buses to the
towers and Twin Peaks, the fog and into the sky haze, I see your signs, I read
your voice, now I do. Yes.
Ơyeme, Mamita, óyeme -- now that you are gone into the deep and silent
luminous fallen side of the night. Ơyeme.”
Juan Felipe Herrera found his voice, his words, his paper, and his ink. He served as Poet Laureate of the United States from 2015 to 2017.
Invisible Planets: An Anthology of Contemporary Chinese SF in Translation.
Ken Liu, ed. translator
January 9, 2018
Westerners who read _Invisible Planets: An Anthology of Contemporary Chinese SF in Translation_ are making a big mistake if they approach this collection with our typical ill-informed views of China. Don't assume that every story is some kind of veiled swipe at the current political system. The reality is that many, if not most, of these stories should be understood in a more universal sense. These writers speak to the human condition. Chen QiuFan's stories, in particular "The Fish of Lijiang," contemplate the futility of human existence, lack of free will, and how our efforts to improve life often goes awry. Ma Boyong's "The City of Silence" is a scary and evocative homage to Orwell's _1984_ which frightens us all, Chinese and Westerners, in the age of the internet and artificial intelligence. One of my favorites is Hao Jingfang's "Folding Beijing" which is describes in painful detail the class differences that exist everywhere in the world - yes, even in the United States. So don't miss the universal themes in these stories.
That said, the stories are wildly creative, many of which are genre-bending tales populated by ghosts and cyborgs, medieval knights on space ships, and "call girls" unlike any we've encountered before. Perhaps the most "Chinese" among these Chinese stories is Liu Cixin (author of _The Three-Body Solution_) who demonstrates his deep entrenchment in Chinese history and Chinese cultural values.
My hat goes off to award-winning writer and translator Ken Liu who brought these very excellent selection of contemporary Chinese sci-fi to us. Thank you, Mr. Liu.
Ken Liu, ed. translator
January 9, 2018
Westerners who read _Invisible Planets: An Anthology of Contemporary Chinese SF in Translation_ are making a big mistake if they approach this collection with our typical ill-informed views of China. Don't assume that every story is some kind of veiled swipe at the current political system. The reality is that many, if not most, of these stories should be understood in a more universal sense. These writers speak to the human condition. Chen QiuFan's stories, in particular "The Fish of Lijiang," contemplate the futility of human existence, lack of free will, and how our efforts to improve life often goes awry. Ma Boyong's "The City of Silence" is a scary and evocative homage to Orwell's _1984_ which frightens us all, Chinese and Westerners, in the age of the internet and artificial intelligence. One of my favorites is Hao Jingfang's "Folding Beijing" which is describes in painful detail the class differences that exist everywhere in the world - yes, even in the United States. So don't miss the universal themes in these stories.
That said, the stories are wildly creative, many of which are genre-bending tales populated by ghosts and cyborgs, medieval knights on space ships, and "call girls" unlike any we've encountered before. Perhaps the most "Chinese" among these Chinese stories is Liu Cixin (author of _The Three-Body Solution_) who demonstrates his deep entrenchment in Chinese history and Chinese cultural values.
My hat goes off to award-winning writer and translator Ken Liu who brought these very excellent selection of contemporary Chinese sci-fi to us. Thank you, Mr. Liu.
The Ripple Effect: The Fate of Freshwater in the Twenty-First Century
Author Alex Prud'homme
November 8, 2017
Alex Prud’homme’s book The Ripple Effect starts with a homicide. This is entirely appropriate for a book about “the fate of freshwater in the twenty-first century” (the author’s subtitle). Geetha Angara, a 43-year old hydrochemist, wife and mother of three, and the person responsible for assuring EPA water quality standards at a New Jersey water purification plant, was found dead at her work. Investigators determined that she had been “forcibly subdued” and thrown alive into a dark, icy cold, million-gallon concrete water tank with no possible way to escape. She drowned. Investigators concluded that her murderer was an employee at the plant, but there was not enough forensic evidence to determine who killed her. They just knew that her attempts to assure quality had not been popular with everyone working at the plant. Angara’s murder is a fitting reminder of how very serious the issue of water quality is now and will become even more so in the future.
Prud’Homme’s book is very comprehensive, very well researched, and covers all the major issues related to water supply and water quality. The book is also very well-written and fascinating to read, although quite scary when we realize how we are misusing our water resources. The situation with water is becoming worse and worse with climate change and human population growth.
This book covers: 1) water quality – a good statistic is to note that there were 560,000 violations of the U.S. Clean Water Act just between 2004 and 2009. Now with the Trump administration’s assault on the Environmental Protection Agency, we assume that things will get worse. 2) drought – there are multiple locations in the world where drought and accompanying wildfires are rampant, but we only have to think of Santa Rose, California in the summer of 2017 to see the problem; c) floods – think of recent hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria. With climate change, intense storms with downpours and flooding are becoming more common; 3) the many ways we use water with minimal consideration of sustainability. For example, we use trillions of gallons of freshwater in energy production. We need increasing amounts of water for food production. Conflict breaks out both historically and contemporaneously when humans fight over water. We are privatizing water supplies in many places in the world, including the U.S. Of course, we continue to pollute water with all kinds of substances – among them, oil, plastics, and pharmaceuticals.
I was most interested in the sections on drought and water supply in the American Southwest where the future looks grim. And Prud’homme has a fascinating commentary on T. Boone Pickens and other water entrepreneurs’ who engage in “water mining” of the Ogallala Aquifer in the Panhandle of Texas where I grew up. Pickens and others have withdrawn huge amounts of fresh groundwater to piped it to the Dallas-Ft.Worth metroplex…at a big price of course. The Ogallala is disappearing.
Although this book was published in 2011, it is definitely worth the read. The Ripple Effect gives context to the water supply and water quality issues we are reading about in the news every day. Highly recommended.
Author Alex Prud'homme
November 8, 2017
Alex Prud’homme’s book The Ripple Effect starts with a homicide. This is entirely appropriate for a book about “the fate of freshwater in the twenty-first century” (the author’s subtitle). Geetha Angara, a 43-year old hydrochemist, wife and mother of three, and the person responsible for assuring EPA water quality standards at a New Jersey water purification plant, was found dead at her work. Investigators determined that she had been “forcibly subdued” and thrown alive into a dark, icy cold, million-gallon concrete water tank with no possible way to escape. She drowned. Investigators concluded that her murderer was an employee at the plant, but there was not enough forensic evidence to determine who killed her. They just knew that her attempts to assure quality had not been popular with everyone working at the plant. Angara’s murder is a fitting reminder of how very serious the issue of water quality is now and will become even more so in the future.
Prud’Homme’s book is very comprehensive, very well researched, and covers all the major issues related to water supply and water quality. The book is also very well-written and fascinating to read, although quite scary when we realize how we are misusing our water resources. The situation with water is becoming worse and worse with climate change and human population growth.
This book covers: 1) water quality – a good statistic is to note that there were 560,000 violations of the U.S. Clean Water Act just between 2004 and 2009. Now with the Trump administration’s assault on the Environmental Protection Agency, we assume that things will get worse. 2) drought – there are multiple locations in the world where drought and accompanying wildfires are rampant, but we only have to think of Santa Rose, California in the summer of 2017 to see the problem; c) floods – think of recent hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria. With climate change, intense storms with downpours and flooding are becoming more common; 3) the many ways we use water with minimal consideration of sustainability. For example, we use trillions of gallons of freshwater in energy production. We need increasing amounts of water for food production. Conflict breaks out both historically and contemporaneously when humans fight over water. We are privatizing water supplies in many places in the world, including the U.S. Of course, we continue to pollute water with all kinds of substances – among them, oil, plastics, and pharmaceuticals.
I was most interested in the sections on drought and water supply in the American Southwest where the future looks grim. And Prud’homme has a fascinating commentary on T. Boone Pickens and other water entrepreneurs’ who engage in “water mining” of the Ogallala Aquifer in the Panhandle of Texas where I grew up. Pickens and others have withdrawn huge amounts of fresh groundwater to piped it to the Dallas-Ft.Worth metroplex…at a big price of course. The Ogallala is disappearing.
Although this book was published in 2011, it is definitely worth the read. The Ripple Effect gives context to the water supply and water quality issues we are reading about in the news every day. Highly recommended.
The Quiet Streets of Winslow
Author Judy Troy
July 10, 2015
When 14-year old Travis Aspenall and his little brother Damien find the body of a murdered young woman “tossed away” in a wash near their home in northern Arizona, their discovery sets in motion an investigation to find her killer. From the first page, the reader has to adjust to a story written in the first person, but from three different first-person perspectives. There’s Travis, the young teen who finds Jody’s body. Next is Nate, Travis’s much older brother, who is in love and lust with Jody. Finally, we meet Sam Rush, the deputy sheriff and friend of the Aspenall family who investigates the crime. There’s also a cast of minor characters who bring depth to the novel. It is to the author’s credit that shifting first-person perspectives in every chapter works well and adds to psychological insight.
This carefully constructed novel is far more character-driven than the typical novel labeled “mystery.” As the story unfolds in a sparse, tight prose that is both revealing and full of mystery, we learn much about the effects of loneliness, of yearning for love, and of severe social alienation bordering on mental illness (possibly crossing that border). Although we never meet her in life, we’re left with an overwhelming sense that the dead woman Jody has very consistently made numerous self-destructive decisions in her life that contributed to her death. The attempt to deal with sexuality by three males at different stages in their lives is one theme of this novel. Other themes include loyalty, especially loyalty within families; what love is and what it is not; the effects that damaged parents have on young children; and the connections and disconnections among people in small towns. Underlying this all is the awareness of life in a quiet Arizona town where nothing ever happens and nothing ever changes….until it does.
Sam and the county prosecutor decide to not bring a case due to lack of sufficient evidence although they both agree that circumstantial evidence points strongly, very strongly, to one person. There is another suspect, though, and they know a defense attorney will jump on that fact in court. So Sam and the prosecutor wait for more evidence to turn up so they can pin down their case. More evidence does turn up, but only one character knows about it. He then has to make a difficult decision. The final pages leave us with a sure knowledge of who the murderer is, but no sure knowledge of what the outcome of the murder investigation will be.
Author Judy Troy
July 10, 2015
When 14-year old Travis Aspenall and his little brother Damien find the body of a murdered young woman “tossed away” in a wash near their home in northern Arizona, their discovery sets in motion an investigation to find her killer. From the first page, the reader has to adjust to a story written in the first person, but from three different first-person perspectives. There’s Travis, the young teen who finds Jody’s body. Next is Nate, Travis’s much older brother, who is in love and lust with Jody. Finally, we meet Sam Rush, the deputy sheriff and friend of the Aspenall family who investigates the crime. There’s also a cast of minor characters who bring depth to the novel. It is to the author’s credit that shifting first-person perspectives in every chapter works well and adds to psychological insight.
This carefully constructed novel is far more character-driven than the typical novel labeled “mystery.” As the story unfolds in a sparse, tight prose that is both revealing and full of mystery, we learn much about the effects of loneliness, of yearning for love, and of severe social alienation bordering on mental illness (possibly crossing that border). Although we never meet her in life, we’re left with an overwhelming sense that the dead woman Jody has very consistently made numerous self-destructive decisions in her life that contributed to her death. The attempt to deal with sexuality by three males at different stages in their lives is one theme of this novel. Other themes include loyalty, especially loyalty within families; what love is and what it is not; the effects that damaged parents have on young children; and the connections and disconnections among people in small towns. Underlying this all is the awareness of life in a quiet Arizona town where nothing ever happens and nothing ever changes….until it does.
Sam and the county prosecutor decide to not bring a case due to lack of sufficient evidence although they both agree that circumstantial evidence points strongly, very strongly, to one person. There is another suspect, though, and they know a defense attorney will jump on that fact in court. So Sam and the prosecutor wait for more evidence to turn up so they can pin down their case. More evidence does turn up, but only one character knows about it. He then has to make a difficult decision. The final pages leave us with a sure knowledge of who the murderer is, but no sure knowledge of what the outcome of the murder investigation will be.
Living With a Wild God
Author Barbara Ehrenreich
June 12, 2014
No doubt about it. Barbara Ehrenreich is very intelligent, and she writes extremely well. She’s best known for her muckraking journalism in lauded works, among them Nickel and Dimed. Long before she began her journalistic career, she exhibited signs of her intellectual brilliance. At the tender age of 13 and 14, she was devouring works by Nietzsche and other philosophers in a desperate attempt to figure out the meaning of life, a mystery which she termed “the situation.”
Despite all this brilliance, it’s pretty clear from her autobiography that there are huge gaps in her knowledge about the human experience. She still has a way to go before she comes close to understanding what her own experience in life as been. To say that she has been “out of balance” most of her life is an understatement. She spent most of her growing up and early adult life dedicated to the study of science, chemistry and physics in particular. She ended up with a PhD in immunology. Rationality and atheism were the pillars of her self-image - so much so that she had a religious like ideological devotion to them.
Ehrenreich grew up in a highly dysfunctional family and even now, she doesn’t seem to understand just how dysfunctional it was, and how damaging it was to her personal development. Her parents were both alcoholics whose idea of a family outing was to take the kids on a drive to a bar, get drunk, and then drive home again. She was alternately treated in a loving way and at the same time, slapped around and humiliated by her mother. In order to win her father’s approval, she had to adhere to his high intellectual standards and to his super-rational view of the world. The idea of loving compassion did not exist in this family. And frankly, through much of the book it doesn’t seem to have existed in Ehrenreich either. She is consistently dismissive of others in some very mean-spirited, even hateful ways.
Given this family history, it’s not surprising then that as a teen, Ehrenreich begin to have dissociative episodes. Dissociation is a psychological term that refers to an experience of disconnect from one’s own physical and emotion experience. I’ve known two people who have had episodes of dissociation – one a gang-rape victim, the other a victim of childhood sexual abuse. Ehrenreich’s dissociative experiences may be explained by what happens to lab rats who get inconsistent feedback. The rats can handle all positive and all negative feedback, but inconsistent feedback is a problem. They don’t know what will happen when they reach for that treat – it could be getting a tasty treat or a whack on the head – so the rats become psychotic. Ehrenreich’s parents were like that – extremely inconsistent in how they treated her. The result led to an unhinged state. Ehrenreich would agree that she was having dissociative episodes, and later in life she even toyed with the idea that she may have been schizophrenic as a youth.
Her devotion to parental notions of rationality and atheism cut off large swaths of human experience available to her. No where in this book does Ehrenreich mention art, music, literature or anything having to do with human creativity. Oh, I take that back. There was one snotty comment she made about some of her dorm mates in college who were art history majors – no doubt bound for a life of museum going, Ehrenreich says, in the most dismissive and undercutting manner.
A clue came early in the book about how disconnected Ehrenreich was from that right-brain, creative side of life when she describes the uncomfortable experience of having a shift in perception that left her ungrounded. She says of her pencil, “I might be in school, concentrating on Latin conjugations or logarithmic tables, and suddenly notice my fingers holding the pencil and realize that I was looking at a combination of yellow and pink, of straight and curved, that had never been seen before and never would be seen again by anyone in the universe, not in the precise configuration anyway, and with that realization, all that was familiar would drain out of the world around me. Or I might look up from a book to find a patch of sunlight pulsing on the floor and feel it left up to challenge the solidity of the entire scene."
She didn’t know it, and probably still doesn’t, but artists have this kind of shift in perception all the time. It’s “normal” for artists. It’s part of how we see the world. It’s not weird or crazy or a dissociative experience. It’s just a shift in perception, a different way of seeing the world (and that pencil) that Ehrenreich seems to have no knowledge of.
So when she does have what she tentatively calls a mystical experience as an older teen, she knows that this is something different – not a dissociative episode but something unique in her life. And it is unique…unique to each person. Yet throughout human history, there have been individuals who have had similar experiences …of what? of God? of the Suchness of the world, of the Unity of Life, of Cosmic Consciousness? Choose your own term. But the fact is that there are many writers who have written about these experiences with far more clarity and vividness than has Ehrenreich.
Despite Ehrenreich being a self-identified solipsist (a wacky view of the world in which you think you are the only one…the ONLY one…who has a mind and thoughts and emotions), Ehrenreich begins to change when she talks to a fellow lab mate in grad school who fears being drafted and sent to Vietnam. She ends up becoming involved in the anti-Vietnam War movement and as a result, “joins the species” in her own words. The other great event in her life was giving birth and parenting two children. She says of her babies, “They were not notably human when they first appeared, more like fuzzy, pale nocturnal animals…entirely devoted to eating and processing raw sensory data….I saw my opportunity at once, which was not to extend my biological self through some sort of dynastic imperialism, but to help them build up a coherent world from the scraps of data that present themselves….In other words, to rebuild the world for myself only this time with a couple of brilliant and highly creative collaborators.” In other words, her children gave her a chance to go back and learn what she didn’t learn herself as a child.
Toward the end of the book, Ehrenreich attempts to understand that “mystical” experience which she describes a brief, colorless passage with no mention at all of how she felt about it. In her attempt to understand, she turns to that which she knows, science and rational thinking. The results are bizarre to the point of hilarity. It’s not often you see “The Other” (Ehrenreich’s term) compared to bacterial colonies (slime mold), symbiotic bacteria, or even the possibility that we humans are being parasitized by some superior being. It makes good fodder for a science fiction novel – that’s about the best I can say about her conclusions.
Oh that someone would have given this child a charcoal pencil and told her to observe the light closely, then try to draw what she saw. Or maybe introduced her to the poetry of Rumi. Or Alice Walker’s novel The Color Purple (Walker said that she acted as a medium so that the characters could speak through her), or maybe the words of monks and mystics Thomas Merton or Thich Nhat Han. Or maybe a recording of John Coltrane’s Blue Train. How would her life have gone then if her world had included art and poetry?
I finished this book feeling rather sad to see that this person of such obvious ability and with such great accomplishments still has not learned much about the grand scope of human experience. I sincerely hope she is able to learn more before the end comes. It also left me with the awareness that the arts are essential to the balanced development of our children.
Author Barbara Ehrenreich
June 12, 2014
No doubt about it. Barbara Ehrenreich is very intelligent, and she writes extremely well. She’s best known for her muckraking journalism in lauded works, among them Nickel and Dimed. Long before she began her journalistic career, she exhibited signs of her intellectual brilliance. At the tender age of 13 and 14, she was devouring works by Nietzsche and other philosophers in a desperate attempt to figure out the meaning of life, a mystery which she termed “the situation.”
Despite all this brilliance, it’s pretty clear from her autobiography that there are huge gaps in her knowledge about the human experience. She still has a way to go before she comes close to understanding what her own experience in life as been. To say that she has been “out of balance” most of her life is an understatement. She spent most of her growing up and early adult life dedicated to the study of science, chemistry and physics in particular. She ended up with a PhD in immunology. Rationality and atheism were the pillars of her self-image - so much so that she had a religious like ideological devotion to them.
Ehrenreich grew up in a highly dysfunctional family and even now, she doesn’t seem to understand just how dysfunctional it was, and how damaging it was to her personal development. Her parents were both alcoholics whose idea of a family outing was to take the kids on a drive to a bar, get drunk, and then drive home again. She was alternately treated in a loving way and at the same time, slapped around and humiliated by her mother. In order to win her father’s approval, she had to adhere to his high intellectual standards and to his super-rational view of the world. The idea of loving compassion did not exist in this family. And frankly, through much of the book it doesn’t seem to have existed in Ehrenreich either. She is consistently dismissive of others in some very mean-spirited, even hateful ways.
Given this family history, it’s not surprising then that as a teen, Ehrenreich begin to have dissociative episodes. Dissociation is a psychological term that refers to an experience of disconnect from one’s own physical and emotion experience. I’ve known two people who have had episodes of dissociation – one a gang-rape victim, the other a victim of childhood sexual abuse. Ehrenreich’s dissociative experiences may be explained by what happens to lab rats who get inconsistent feedback. The rats can handle all positive and all negative feedback, but inconsistent feedback is a problem. They don’t know what will happen when they reach for that treat – it could be getting a tasty treat or a whack on the head – so the rats become psychotic. Ehrenreich’s parents were like that – extremely inconsistent in how they treated her. The result led to an unhinged state. Ehrenreich would agree that she was having dissociative episodes, and later in life she even toyed with the idea that she may have been schizophrenic as a youth.
Her devotion to parental notions of rationality and atheism cut off large swaths of human experience available to her. No where in this book does Ehrenreich mention art, music, literature or anything having to do with human creativity. Oh, I take that back. There was one snotty comment she made about some of her dorm mates in college who were art history majors – no doubt bound for a life of museum going, Ehrenreich says, in the most dismissive and undercutting manner.
A clue came early in the book about how disconnected Ehrenreich was from that right-brain, creative side of life when she describes the uncomfortable experience of having a shift in perception that left her ungrounded. She says of her pencil, “I might be in school, concentrating on Latin conjugations or logarithmic tables, and suddenly notice my fingers holding the pencil and realize that I was looking at a combination of yellow and pink, of straight and curved, that had never been seen before and never would be seen again by anyone in the universe, not in the precise configuration anyway, and with that realization, all that was familiar would drain out of the world around me. Or I might look up from a book to find a patch of sunlight pulsing on the floor and feel it left up to challenge the solidity of the entire scene."
She didn’t know it, and probably still doesn’t, but artists have this kind of shift in perception all the time. It’s “normal” for artists. It’s part of how we see the world. It’s not weird or crazy or a dissociative experience. It’s just a shift in perception, a different way of seeing the world (and that pencil) that Ehrenreich seems to have no knowledge of.
So when she does have what she tentatively calls a mystical experience as an older teen, she knows that this is something different – not a dissociative episode but something unique in her life. And it is unique…unique to each person. Yet throughout human history, there have been individuals who have had similar experiences …of what? of God? of the Suchness of the world, of the Unity of Life, of Cosmic Consciousness? Choose your own term. But the fact is that there are many writers who have written about these experiences with far more clarity and vividness than has Ehrenreich.
Despite Ehrenreich being a self-identified solipsist (a wacky view of the world in which you think you are the only one…the ONLY one…who has a mind and thoughts and emotions), Ehrenreich begins to change when she talks to a fellow lab mate in grad school who fears being drafted and sent to Vietnam. She ends up becoming involved in the anti-Vietnam War movement and as a result, “joins the species” in her own words. The other great event in her life was giving birth and parenting two children. She says of her babies, “They were not notably human when they first appeared, more like fuzzy, pale nocturnal animals…entirely devoted to eating and processing raw sensory data….I saw my opportunity at once, which was not to extend my biological self through some sort of dynastic imperialism, but to help them build up a coherent world from the scraps of data that present themselves….In other words, to rebuild the world for myself only this time with a couple of brilliant and highly creative collaborators.” In other words, her children gave her a chance to go back and learn what she didn’t learn herself as a child.
Toward the end of the book, Ehrenreich attempts to understand that “mystical” experience which she describes a brief, colorless passage with no mention at all of how she felt about it. In her attempt to understand, she turns to that which she knows, science and rational thinking. The results are bizarre to the point of hilarity. It’s not often you see “The Other” (Ehrenreich’s term) compared to bacterial colonies (slime mold), symbiotic bacteria, or even the possibility that we humans are being parasitized by some superior being. It makes good fodder for a science fiction novel – that’s about the best I can say about her conclusions.
Oh that someone would have given this child a charcoal pencil and told her to observe the light closely, then try to draw what she saw. Or maybe introduced her to the poetry of Rumi. Or Alice Walker’s novel The Color Purple (Walker said that she acted as a medium so that the characters could speak through her), or maybe the words of monks and mystics Thomas Merton or Thich Nhat Han. Or maybe a recording of John Coltrane’s Blue Train. How would her life have gone then if her world had included art and poetry?
I finished this book feeling rather sad to see that this person of such obvious ability and with such great accomplishments still has not learned much about the grand scope of human experience. I sincerely hope she is able to learn more before the end comes. It also left me with the awareness that the arts are essential to the balanced development of our children.
Another Look at Searching for Sugar Man
Film by Malik Bendjelloul
May 27, 2014
It’s not unusual for me to be a year or two behind when it comes to watching recently highly-lauded films. I just got around this week to seeing Searching for Sugar Man nearly two years after its release. The film, directed by Swede Malik Bendjelloul, won multiple awards including the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature in 2013.
In case you missed it, the film is about Sixto Rodriguez, a Detroit-based Mexican-American musician whose two albums recorded in the early 1970s bombed. There were very few sales despite the fact that Rodriguez was praised as a poet musician even better than Dylan. Then Rodriguez fell into obscurity. He was unaware that a copy of his album Cold Fact made its way to South Africa around the same time. That’s where Rodriguez became a huge hit, “bigger than Elvis,” although it would be years before he knew this. Two South African fans tracked him down and brought him to South Africa in 1998 where he played to adoring sell-out crowds. For a musician of his caliber, it was beyond heart-warming to see him finally get the audience he had deserved all along.
I love this film. I especially appreciated learning about how Rodriguez’s music deeply influenced the anti-apartheid movement among whites in South Africa in the 1970s. When there is a struggle against oppression somewhere in the world, we rarely get to hear about how some members of the oppressor class break ranks and do what they can to support the social revolution. (This has been true in the U.S., too.) Youthful South Africans eventually participated in the global youth revolution of the time, and most pointedly, they struggled against the oppression in their own country under apartheid. It’s an odd twist of history that the soundtrack to the white component of the anti-apartheid revolution in South Africa was made up of music by Sixto Rodriguez.
I loved this film also for the very affirming idea that an artist might remain unrecognized in his/her own time and place. And yet, his/her art will have a great influence at some time in some place, no matter how unlikely.
However, I was left unsatisfied after seeing Searching for Sugar Man. Rodriguez himself remained an enigmatic figure. According to the film, he lived contently in abject poverty in Detroit where he worked as a laborer, played his guitar only for himself, took care of his three daughters, and seemed to embody a monkish serenity and complete detachment from desires for material success.
The film maker did an exceptional job of generating suspense about whether the two South Africans (one a journalist, the other a music store owner, both fans) who were searching for him would actually find him, if he would go to South Africa, and if he would be well-received there. Beyond that, I had the feeling that director Bendjelloul wasn’t satisfied with just answering those questions. He wanted us to take home with us the mystery and suspense of Rodriguez’s life. He wanted us to carry the legend with us.
I found myself asking myself, who really is Sixto Rodriguez? Why are there little bits of information casually thrown out in the film that when compared to each other, don’t quite add up? Like how could he have moved 26 times according to his daughter and yet lived in the same house for 40 years? And what about those three daughters? Are they all really his daughters? And is there a wife/lover/mother of the daughters in this man’s life? Did he really quit playing music entirely when his two albums flopped? What about his involvement in Detroit politics? Could we know more about that? I was left unsatisfied as well when it came to the issue of money. Rodriguez didn’t receive a cent from sales of his albums in South Africa. What happened to the money?
I wasn’t the only one who thought this way. Peter Bradshaw in a Guardian review dated 26 July, 2012, wrote, “A rudimentary internet search shows that Rodriguez's musical career did not vanish the way the film implies, and the film has clearly skated round some facts, and frankly exaggerated the mystery, to make a better and more emotional story.”
So I watched a South African film documentary on the internet, Dead Men Don’t Tour (2001) here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=in--_OWfTd4 This documentary filled in some of the gaps. I also read about Rodriguez on several sites on the net.
Here’s what I learned. Rodriguez did not quit playing music altogether. He toured Australia in the 1970s and was well-received there. He has three daughters that are presented as his daughters in Bendjelloul’s film although I suspect the eldest, Eva, is actually his step-daughter. In face she lets slip the word “step father” at one point. (I’m not sure this even matters, but Eva was presented as a daughter in Sugar Man, and yet was completely omitted in the South African documentary.) I can see now that he could have moved around a lot with his family until he came up with $50 to buy an old dilapidated house from the U.S. government – another thing I learned in my research.
What about the mother in this family? Turns out Rodriguez had a first marriage that produced a second daughter, Sandra, and then a second marriage to Konny Rodriguez which produced third daughter Regan. Konny does not appear at all in Searching for Sugar Man which I consider a serious omission.
On the other hand, the South African documentary has substantial portions of interviews with Konny in which we discover that she and Sixto met as college students. She described him as a long-haired hippy with a great smile who always carried a guitar. He and Konny have been married all these years, and she goes with him when he tours even today. But they do not live together. She says that they love other, but she can’t stand living with him. The South African documentary also tells us quite a bit more about Rodriguez’s involvement in progressive politics in Detroit.
I also learned that Rodriguez has a degree in philosophy. It’s pretty clear that he was deeply influenced by the peace and freedom ideals of the 1960s counter-culture. Intensive reading of philosophy plus the counter-culture influence made me think that Rodriguez developed values and a personal philosophy that resulted in real personal serenity. He’s a man who took and takes very seriously those ideals of peace, human dignity, and detachment from chasing after material success. Close listening to his song lyrics support this notion.
Eventually I came to understand that my discomfort with Searching for Sugar Man was about how Bendjelloul “skated round some facts, and frankly exaggerated the mystery” as Peter Bradshaw said in the Guardian. A documentary is supposed to be a nonfiction film that, as Wikipedia defines it, is “intended to document some aspect of reality, primarily for the purposes of instruction or maintaining a historical record.”
As much as I enjoyed the film, I have concluded that Searching for Sugar falls short in the area of arts journalism and documentary filmmaking. Certain relevant and important bits of information that were easily available to the filmmaker were omitted in favor of cultivating the mystery of Sixto Rodriguez. I do not believe that the film would have suffered if a more comprehensive view had been included.
Film by Malik Bendjelloul
May 27, 2014
It’s not unusual for me to be a year or two behind when it comes to watching recently highly-lauded films. I just got around this week to seeing Searching for Sugar Man nearly two years after its release. The film, directed by Swede Malik Bendjelloul, won multiple awards including the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature in 2013.
In case you missed it, the film is about Sixto Rodriguez, a Detroit-based Mexican-American musician whose two albums recorded in the early 1970s bombed. There were very few sales despite the fact that Rodriguez was praised as a poet musician even better than Dylan. Then Rodriguez fell into obscurity. He was unaware that a copy of his album Cold Fact made its way to South Africa around the same time. That’s where Rodriguez became a huge hit, “bigger than Elvis,” although it would be years before he knew this. Two South African fans tracked him down and brought him to South Africa in 1998 where he played to adoring sell-out crowds. For a musician of his caliber, it was beyond heart-warming to see him finally get the audience he had deserved all along.
I love this film. I especially appreciated learning about how Rodriguez’s music deeply influenced the anti-apartheid movement among whites in South Africa in the 1970s. When there is a struggle against oppression somewhere in the world, we rarely get to hear about how some members of the oppressor class break ranks and do what they can to support the social revolution. (This has been true in the U.S., too.) Youthful South Africans eventually participated in the global youth revolution of the time, and most pointedly, they struggled against the oppression in their own country under apartheid. It’s an odd twist of history that the soundtrack to the white component of the anti-apartheid revolution in South Africa was made up of music by Sixto Rodriguez.
I loved this film also for the very affirming idea that an artist might remain unrecognized in his/her own time and place. And yet, his/her art will have a great influence at some time in some place, no matter how unlikely.
However, I was left unsatisfied after seeing Searching for Sugar Man. Rodriguez himself remained an enigmatic figure. According to the film, he lived contently in abject poverty in Detroit where he worked as a laborer, played his guitar only for himself, took care of his three daughters, and seemed to embody a monkish serenity and complete detachment from desires for material success.
The film maker did an exceptional job of generating suspense about whether the two South Africans (one a journalist, the other a music store owner, both fans) who were searching for him would actually find him, if he would go to South Africa, and if he would be well-received there. Beyond that, I had the feeling that director Bendjelloul wasn’t satisfied with just answering those questions. He wanted us to take home with us the mystery and suspense of Rodriguez’s life. He wanted us to carry the legend with us.
I found myself asking myself, who really is Sixto Rodriguez? Why are there little bits of information casually thrown out in the film that when compared to each other, don’t quite add up? Like how could he have moved 26 times according to his daughter and yet lived in the same house for 40 years? And what about those three daughters? Are they all really his daughters? And is there a wife/lover/mother of the daughters in this man’s life? Did he really quit playing music entirely when his two albums flopped? What about his involvement in Detroit politics? Could we know more about that? I was left unsatisfied as well when it came to the issue of money. Rodriguez didn’t receive a cent from sales of his albums in South Africa. What happened to the money?
I wasn’t the only one who thought this way. Peter Bradshaw in a Guardian review dated 26 July, 2012, wrote, “A rudimentary internet search shows that Rodriguez's musical career did not vanish the way the film implies, and the film has clearly skated round some facts, and frankly exaggerated the mystery, to make a better and more emotional story.”
So I watched a South African film documentary on the internet, Dead Men Don’t Tour (2001) here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=in--_OWfTd4 This documentary filled in some of the gaps. I also read about Rodriguez on several sites on the net.
Here’s what I learned. Rodriguez did not quit playing music altogether. He toured Australia in the 1970s and was well-received there. He has three daughters that are presented as his daughters in Bendjelloul’s film although I suspect the eldest, Eva, is actually his step-daughter. In face she lets slip the word “step father” at one point. (I’m not sure this even matters, but Eva was presented as a daughter in Sugar Man, and yet was completely omitted in the South African documentary.) I can see now that he could have moved around a lot with his family until he came up with $50 to buy an old dilapidated house from the U.S. government – another thing I learned in my research.
What about the mother in this family? Turns out Rodriguez had a first marriage that produced a second daughter, Sandra, and then a second marriage to Konny Rodriguez which produced third daughter Regan. Konny does not appear at all in Searching for Sugar Man which I consider a serious omission.
On the other hand, the South African documentary has substantial portions of interviews with Konny in which we discover that she and Sixto met as college students. She described him as a long-haired hippy with a great smile who always carried a guitar. He and Konny have been married all these years, and she goes with him when he tours even today. But they do not live together. She says that they love other, but she can’t stand living with him. The South African documentary also tells us quite a bit more about Rodriguez’s involvement in progressive politics in Detroit.
I also learned that Rodriguez has a degree in philosophy. It’s pretty clear that he was deeply influenced by the peace and freedom ideals of the 1960s counter-culture. Intensive reading of philosophy plus the counter-culture influence made me think that Rodriguez developed values and a personal philosophy that resulted in real personal serenity. He’s a man who took and takes very seriously those ideals of peace, human dignity, and detachment from chasing after material success. Close listening to his song lyrics support this notion.
Eventually I came to understand that my discomfort with Searching for Sugar Man was about how Bendjelloul “skated round some facts, and frankly exaggerated the mystery” as Peter Bradshaw said in the Guardian. A documentary is supposed to be a nonfiction film that, as Wikipedia defines it, is “intended to document some aspect of reality, primarily for the purposes of instruction or maintaining a historical record.”
As much as I enjoyed the film, I have concluded that Searching for Sugar falls short in the area of arts journalism and documentary filmmaking. Certain relevant and important bits of information that were easily available to the filmmaker were omitted in favor of cultivating the mystery of Sixto Rodriguez. I do not believe that the film would have suffered if a more comprehensive view had been included.
Beasts of the Southern Wild
film
December 2012
Accurately described as “magical realism,” Beasts is a wonderful story about a little girl named Hush Puppy who lives with her hot-tempered but very loving father in a swampy Mississippi Delta rural community known as the Bathtub. We travel seamlessly back and forth between fantasy and reality as we view the world from the perspective of six-year-old Hush Puppy. She doesn’t always understand what’s going on around her, but an abundance of great courage sees her through a life dominated by constant challenges. Hush Puppy deals with hurricanes, rising sea levels, fantastical monsters, a missing mother and a dying father as she takes her own very archetypal “hero’s journey.” Don’t miss this one.
film
December 2012
Accurately described as “magical realism,” Beasts is a wonderful story about a little girl named Hush Puppy who lives with her hot-tempered but very loving father in a swampy Mississippi Delta rural community known as the Bathtub. We travel seamlessly back and forth between fantasy and reality as we view the world from the perspective of six-year-old Hush Puppy. She doesn’t always understand what’s going on around her, but an abundance of great courage sees her through a life dominated by constant challenges. Hush Puppy deals with hurricanes, rising sea levels, fantastical monsters, a missing mother and a dying father as she takes her own very archetypal “hero’s journey.” Don’t miss this one.