What I'm Reading, Pt. 4

I recently finished my 20th book of the year. As 20 is a nice round number, I decided I would share the books I've read thus far. I always love to know what people are reading (when someone is reading on the metro, I make a thinly-disguised effort to identify what book they're reading), and I figure other people feel the same way. So why not return the favor. 

(Note: I present the book descriptions in italics -- I did not write these; the descriptions were usually taken off the back of the book.)

(Note: Books are listed in the order I read them.)

16. Bossypants by Tina Fey. (Non-Fiction)

No description needed. In this book Tina Fey writes funny shit about her life and career. This book made me laugh out loud so many times. Trust me, you want to read this book. It's hilarious and adorable. Enough said. 

17. The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson. (Non-Fiction)

Bringing Chicago circa 1893 to vivid life, this book intertwines the true tale of two men -- the brilliant architect behind the legendary 1893 World's Fair, striving to secure America's place in the world; and the cunning serial killer who used the fair to lure his victims to their death. Combining meticulous research with nail-biting storytelling, Erik Larson has crafted a narrative with all the wonder of newly discovered history and the thrills of the best fiction.

I probably don't need to convince you that the serial killer story is interesting (and it is indeed very interesting), but you'd be surprised at how fascinating the account was of the laborious process to build the Chicago World's Fair in time and the efforts made to have it be a success. It's amazing how much went into the fair. I loved hearing all the details. I learned so much interesting information and trivia from this book. Aside from all the great historical knowledge you gain, it's also a really fascinating narrative. The book really does read like fiction. Larson does a great job at making a potentially boring topic (for other people, that is. I can't seem to get enough World's Fair stuff after falling in love with a great World's Fairs exhibit at the National Building Museum. I'm such a nerd) extremely interesting. I never thought I'd be biting my nails with anticipation over whether they'd get the landscaping done in time! 

18. The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson. (Fiction)

Julian Tresolve, a professionally unspectacular former BBC radio producer, and Sam Finkler, a popular Jewish philosopher, writer, and television personality, are old school friends. Despite a prickly relationship and very different lives, they're never lost touch with each other, or with their former teacher, Libor Sevcik. Dining together one night at Sevcik's apartment -- the two Jewish widowers and the unmarried Gentile, Tresolve -- the men share a sweetly painful evening, reminiscing on a time before they had loved and lost, before they had prized anything greatly enough to fear the loss of it. But as Treslove makes his way home, he is attacked and mugged. Tresolve is convinced the crime was a misdirected act of anti-Semitism, and in its aftermath, his whole sense of self will ineluctably change.

I love Jacobson's British humor. You know that British type of humor: smart, witty, deprecating. I loved all the BBC jokes made throughout the book. Although this book is usually considered a comedy, it's also a very serious and introspective book. I like books where people are trying to figure out who they are, and I get to be a voyeur in their development or soul searching (even if they're only fictional characters). Also, if you're into books that deal with Jewish people and Jewish culture, this is definitely the book for you. It's very much a discussion of what it means to be Jewish in London (or Europe) in the 21st century. Although, be forewarned, the main characters (save Libor) are not very likable people. They're pretty whiny, cantankerous, and selfish. Definitely not warm people. Despite this, you still want to follow them and see what they do next (sometimes it's like watching a car crash -- you want to see how they'll mess up next. Or how they'll stick their foot in their mouth next). And you also want to keep reading to see if maybe, just maybe, they become better people.
I liked this book but it wasn't as good as I thought it was going to be. I don't know if that's because I had too high of expectations (it had just recently won the Man Booker Prize) or if it just didn't quite hit the mark for me personally (maybe because the characters are not the most likable). I don't know. That's not to say I didn't like it, but I think I just imagined liking it more than I actually did. In other words, I liked it, but I knew it probably wouldn't be making my Top 10. 

19. The Help by Kathryn Stockett. (Fiction)

Twenty-two-year-old Skeeter has just returned home after graduating from Ole Miss. She may have a degree, but it is 1962, Mississippi, and her mother will not be happy till Skeeter has a ring on her finger. Skeeter would normally find solace with her beloved maid Constantine, the woman who raised her, but Constantine has disappeared and no one will tell Skeeter where she has gone. Aibileen is a black maid, a wise, regal woman raising her seventeenth white child. Something has shifted inside her after the loss of her own son, who died while his bosses looked the other way. She is devoted to the little girl she looks after, though she knows both their hearts may be broken. Minny, Aibileen's best friend, is short, fat, and perhaps the sassiest woman in Mississippi. She can cook like nobody's business, but she can't mind her tongue, so she's lost yet another job. Minny finally finds a position working for someone too new to town to know her reputation. But her new boss has secrets of her own. Seemingly as different from one another as can be, these women will nonetheless come together for a clandestine project that will put them all at risk. And why? Because they are suffocating within the lines that define their town and their times. And sometimes lines are made to be crossed. 

I loved this book. This book made me so emotional. It's not too often that I get so emotional reading a book. This book really affected me. It made me cry (both happy and sad tears) [despite crying very easily watching movies, I don't often cry reading books. So a book is definitely something special if it makes me cry], it made me feel so angry at what was happening to the characters, it stressed me out with suspense (I could not put the book down towards the end), and it also made me smile and get that warm feeling inside (I know that sounds like such a Hallmark card, bu it's totally true). I really enjoyed this book. 

20. Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck. (Non-Fiction)

In 1960, when he was almost 60 years old, John Steinbeck set out to rediscover his native land. Accompanied only by a French poodle named Charley, he traveled the length and the breadth of the United States. He outfought a hurricane in New York and drank cognac in Maine with a family of migrant farm workers. He renewed old acquaintances in California and attended a modern witches' sabbath in New Orleans. He saw things which stirred his anger and things which made him swell with pride.

At times you can tell this book was written in 1960 -- like when he describes these newfangled things called mobile homes, motels are just beginning to put sanitary covers on the drinking glasses in the room, people are afraid of the Russians, and he uses the word "negro" in a non-ironic way. Other times, the book still seems really current. So many of his observations and reflections are relevant today. Regardless of whether the book seems dated or not (which, overall I would say it doesn't seem dated), it's interesting to hear his impressions of the different states he passes through and the people he meets. One of the most fascinating parts of the book is when he travels to the Deep South. As in, the Deep South in 1960. What a crazy time. It probably goes without saying, but that part got me very angry. Conversely, it was lovely hearing him describe his absolute affection for Montana. I also really loved the section on Northern California, which was the most personal for him because he grew up there. This section resulted in some beautiful, touching passages. My only "complaint" about the book is that I wish he went to even more states. I wanted more! I would have loved to hear his opinion of all the states. I selfishly wanted him to at least go to Utah because I was curious as to what he would say about it. Psh, as if he didn't put his life on hold and travel on the open road even longer for the sake of my future satisfaction!

---

Although it was hard making this list, I would say these are my Top 10:

1. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

2. The Help

3. A Visit From The Goon Squad

4. Bossypants

5. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

6. Freedom

7. Let The Great World Spin

8. Great House

9. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

10. Room/The Devil in the White City (tie) (ok, I picked 11, not 10)

What I'm Reading, Pt. 3

I recently finished my 20th book of the year. As 20 is a nice round number, I decided I would share the books I've read thus far. I always love to know what people are reading (when someone is reading on the metro, I make a thinly-disguised effort to identify what book they're reading), and I figure other people feel the same way. So why not return the favor. 

(Note: I present the book descriptions in italics -- I did not write these; the descriptions were usually taken off the back of the book.)

(Note: Books are listed in the order I read them.)

11. Great House by Nicole Krauss. (Fiction)

For twenty-five years, a reclusive American novelist has been writing at the desk she inherited from a young Chilean poet who disappeared at the hands of Pincohet's secret police; one day a girl claiming to be the poet's daughter arrives to take it away, sending the writer's life reeling. Across the ocean, in the leafy suburbs of London, a man caring for his dying wife discovers, among her papers, a lock of hair that unravels a terrible secret. In Jerusalem, an antiques dealer slowly reassembles his father's study, plundered by the Nazis in Budapest in 1944. Connecting these stories is a desk of many drawers that exerts a power over those who possess it or have given it away. As the narrators of Great House make their confessions, the desk takes on more and more meaning, and comes finally to stand for all that has been taken from them, and all that binds them to what has disappeared. 

I love these novels told through the perspective of various different characters, and the characters are all connected in a way. I have read quite a bit of these books lately, and I can't seem to get enough of them. Sometimes the book is told through first person narration and it really is the characters' direct points-of-view (e.g., Great House, Let the Great World Spin, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Help). Other times, you get an account of multiple characters' perspectives (and their thoughts and emotions), but it's told in the third-person by an all-knowing narrator (e.g., Freedom, A Visit From the Goon Squad, The Finkler Question, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, The Devil in the White City, The Lonely Polygamist, Sunset Park). I feel like I read more books told through the perspective of various characters than I do books with a single protagonist. I don't necessarily pick books for that reason, but it seems like a lot of the books I'm interested in tend to be laid out that way. It seems like I rarely read a fiction book now told simply from the perspective of one character, and all other characters are viewed only through the lens of the one protagonist.

I enjoy books with multiple perspectives because I like when we get to hear how different characters experience the same event. One character's perception of the same event can be entirely different from another's. Having multiple points of view sheds more light on the characters and the events in the book. I also like multiple protagonists because it feels like you get three (or four, or five, etc) books for the price of one. Each character's story could be a book on its own. I like having multiple stories within the same overall story. Plus, I like the diversity; maybe the multiple perspectives is good for my attention span.

Sometimes with these multiple-protagonists books we know how the characters are connected from the outset (for instance, when the different perspectives come from different family members, like in Freedom and The Lonely Polygamist); other times it's a mystery at first how these characters connect and how their paths will cross, but we eventually learn (even if the characters don't. Oh the advantages of being an omnipresent, omniscient reader). Great House is one of those books where the characters are initially strangers to each other and you don't know at first how the characters connect. I enjoy these books because the suspense adds something extra to an already good story. You're constantly wondering when and how these characters' paths will cross. 

12. Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart. (Fiction)

Meet Misha Vainberg, aka Snack Dady, a 325-pound disaster of a human being, son of the 1,238th-richest man in Russia, proud holder of a degree in multicultural studies from Accidental College, USA (don't even ask), and patriot of no country save the great City of New York. Poor Misha just wants to live in the South Bronx with his hot Latina girlfriend, but after his gangster father murders an Oklahoma businessman in Russia, all hopes of a U.S. visa are lost. Salvation lies in the tiny, oil-rich nation of Absuridstan, where a crooked consular officer will sell Misha a Belgian passport. But after a civil war breaks out between two competing ethnic groups and a local warlord installs hapless Misha as minister of multicultural affairs, our hero soon finds himself covered in oil, fighting for his life, falling in love, and trying to figure out if a normal life is still possible in the twenty-first century. 

This book is funny, satirical, original, and totally insane. But that's Shteyngart's M.O., right? Absurd and humorous.  

13. And The Heart Says Whatever by Emily Gould. (Non-Fiction)

Emily Gould tells the truth about becoming an adult in New York City in the first decade of the twenty-first century, alongside bartenders, bounty hunters, bloggers, bohemian, socialites, and bankers. These are essays about failing at pet parenthood, suspending lust during the long moment in which a dude selects the perfect soundtrack from his iTunes library, and leaving one life behind to begin a new one. For everyone who has ever had a job she wishes she didn't, felt inchoate, ambition sour into resentment, ended a relationship, regretted a decision, or told a secret to exactly the wrong person, these stories will be achingly familiar.

I thought these essays were going to have more of a humorous slant to them -- the Sedaris/Crosley/Burroughs style of personal essay/memoir. Instead, it was more just 'dishy' stories of her life -- breakups, bad jobs, life in New York, etc. (but not as dishy as some of those crazy celebrity memoirs). There was some humor, but not much. And while I like being a voyeur as much as the next person, eavesdropping on people's personal lives, I kept feeling like the humor was missing (based on my own biases of what these books should read like). So it never quite felt complete to me. Maybe it's unfair of me to want humor, but without the humor it just comes off as stories about this person that I don't really know. Humor can be a universal connector -- making a stranger's stories interesting to other people. Or, if the stories aren't humorous, they need to be really entertaining or crazy or fascinating. But these weren't exceptionally entertaining stories. The book wasn't terrible (there were decent stories), I think I just came into the book with different expectations and so it fell short for me.   

14. A Visit From The Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan. (Fiction)

Bennie is an aging former punk rocker and record executive. Sasha is the passionate, troubled young woman he employs. Here Jennifer Egan brilliantly reveals their pasts, along with the inner lives of a host of other characters whose paths intersect with theirs. With music pulsing on every page. A Visit from the Goon Squad is a startling, exhilarating novel of self-destruction and redemption.

It's impressive how many characters are in this book. Pretty much every chapter is the point of a view of a new character. But I didn't become overwhelmed at all with all the characters. Egan presents the characters in a way that you quickly understand where they fit in the story. The introduction of each new character further enriches the story and the other characters in the book. It's impressive how this short book covers so many characters and decades of time (including the future! dun dun dun!). I was initially surprised when I heard this book won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction -- not because it didn't deserve it (it did deserve it), but because I figured it was too 'hip' for the Pulitzer. 

15. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. (Non-Fiction)

Her name was Henrietta Lacks, but scientists know her as HeLa. She was a poor black tobacco farmer whose cells -- taken without her knowledge in 1951 -- became one of the most important tools in medicine, vital for developing the polio vaccine, cloning, gene mapping, and more. Henrietta's cells have been bought and sold by the billions, yet she remains virtually unknown, and her family can't afford health insurance. This book tells a riveting story of the collision between ethics, race, and medicine; of scientific discovery and faith healing; and of a daughter consumed with questions about the mother she never knew. 

Amazing book. For those of you that aren't big fans of science, don't let the scientific and medical subject matter scare you away. These parts are discussed in a very interesting and accessible away (it's incredibly impressive what HeLa cells have done). Plus, the book isn't just about the cells. A lot of the book is about Henrietta's life and family. It's a very fascinating story. Rebecca Skloot did an amazing job putting a name (and a life, and a family history) to these often-considered-anonymous cells. The discussions of race and medical ethics throughout the book are also really fascinating. 

What I'm Reading, Pt. 2

I recently finished my 20th book of the year. As 20 is a nice round number, I decided I would share the books I've read thus far. I always love to know what people are reading (when someone is reading on the metro, I make a thinly-disguised effort to identify what book they're reading), and I figure other people feel the same way. So why not return the favor. 

(Note: I present the book descriptions in italics -- I did not write these; the descriptions were usually taken off the back of the book.)

(Note: Books are listed in the order I read them.)

6. Neither Here Nor There by Bill Bryson. (Non-Fiction)

In the early seventies, Bill Bryson backpacked across Europe -- in search of enlightenment, beer, and women. He was accompanied by an unforgettable sidekick named Stephen Katz (who will be gloriously familiar to readers of Bryson's A Walk in the Woods). Twenty years later, he decided to retrace his journey. The result is affectionate and riotously funny. 

I did enjoy the book -- I found it interesting, informative (he covers a lot of European countries), and funny. But, ultimately, the book should really be called How a Crabby Guy Experiences Europe. There is a decent amount of bellyaching and snippiness. I've read other travelogues of his, and yes, this snippiness is nothing new, but there just seemed to be more in this book. Another possible title could be How a Crabby Guy Experiences Europe and Kind of Enjoys It, It Depends on the City. 

7. The Fates Will Find Their Way by Hannah Pittard. (Fiction)

Sixteen-year-old Nora Lindell is missing. And the neighborhood boys she's left behind are caught forever in the heady current of her absence. As the days and years pile up, the mystery of her disappearance grows kaleidoscopically. A collection of rumors, divergent suspicions, and tantalizing what-ifs, Nora Lindell's story is a shadowy projection of teenage lust, friendship, reverence, and regret, captured magically in the disembodied plural voice of the boys who still long for her. The book tracks the emotional progress of the sister Nora left behind, the other families in the leafy suburban enclave, and the individual fates of the boys in her thrall. Far more eager to imagine Nora's fate than to scrutinize their own, the boys sleepwalk into an adulthood of jobs, marriages, families, homes, and daughters of their own, all the while pining for a girl -- and a life -- that no longer exists, except in the imagination.

This book reminded me a little bit of Myla Goldberg's The False Friend. Somewhat similar premises. But they are also very different. I could not put this book down -- the mystery of it all and what happened to Nora kept me wanting more. I think I ended up reading it in a day simply because the suspense was killing me. But, be forewarned, this book will break your heart. It's quite depressing, the lives these people live. It seems like so many books about teenagers in suburbia in the 1970s are depressing. 

8. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. (Fiction)

Nine-year-old Oskar Schell has embarked on an urgent, secret mission that will take him through the five boroughs of New York. His goal is to find the lock that matches a mysterious key that belonged to his father, who died in the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11. This seemingly impossible task will bring Oskar into contact with survivors of all sorts on an exhilarating, affecting, often hilarious, and ultimately healing journey. 

Oskar is such a great character. He is now one of my all-time favorite literary characters.

9. Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. (Fiction)

Patty and Walter Berglund were the new pioneers of old St. Paul -- the gentrifiers, the hands-on parents, the avant-garde of the Whole Foods generation. Patty was the ideal sort of neighbor, who could tell you where to recycle your batteries and how to get the local cops to actually do their job. She was an enviably perfect mother and the wife of Walter's dreams. Together with Walter -- environmental lawyer, commuter cyclist, total family man -- she was doing her small part to build a better world. But now, in the new millennium, the Berglunds have become a mystery. Why has their teenage son moved in with the aggressively Republican family next door? Why has Walter taken a job working with Big Coal? What exactly is Richard Katz -- outré rocker and Walter's college best friend and rival -- still doing in the picture? Most of all, what has happened to Patty? Why has the bright star of Barrier Street become "a very different kind of neighbor," an implacable Fury coming unhinged before the street's attentive eyes? 

Just as good as the hype, if you ask me. Franzen puts so much into these characters -- revealing their history, their deepest feelings, their intentions -- that I felt like I really knew these people. I can imagine myself saying a couple of years from now, "Oh, whatever happened to The Berglunds? I wonder what they're up to now...Oh yeah, those were fictional characters."

10. The Year Of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. (Non-Fiction)

From one of America's iconic writers, a stunning book of electric honesty and passion. Joan Didion explores an intensely personal yet universal experience: a portrait of marriage -- and a life, in good times and bad -- that will speak to anyone who has ever loved a husband or wife or child.

This book is about the year in which Joan's husband dies and her daughter is in and out of the hospital with a serious illness. She is very open and honest about her feelings of loss and what this year was like for her. She introduces the reader to all kinds of personal stories about her and her husband's relationship and their life together throughout the years. The book probably reads a lot like how she experienced that year -- there were some parts of the book where I was overcome with emotion and sadness, while other parts seemed kind of boring and slow. One thing I kind of got sick of is that she references her and her husband's past works a decent amount throughout the book (her husband was a writer, as well). Like she kept quoting passages from past books of theirs. I don't know why, but it kind of annoyed me. She can write whatever she wants, obviously, this is her memoir. And she can describe this very personal experience in whatever way she sees fit. But it's just a little hang-up I had. To me it just came off kind of...I don't want to say conceited, because that word is too harsh, but I just found it odd. Like certain parts almost came off like, 'Someone once said something brilliant that reminds me of what I'm experiencing right now...oh yeah, it was a passage from my 1994 book Blah Blah Blah...'

I haven't yet read Joyce Carol Oates's A Widow's Story, so I can't compare the two. But I did read an excerpt of A Widow's Story in The New Yorker, and I was blown over by this piece. I was crying uncontrollably, and I instantly went to Eagan, exclaiming through tears, "Don't you ever die!!!!" While I haven't read her whole book yet, I feel that Joyce Carol Oates described her husband's death in more of the way that I probably would describe an experience like that, compared to how Joan described it. Joan seemed very factual and didn't seem to delve in the emotions as much (and sometimes emotions were presented in a factual way, instead of an emotional way, if that makes sense) -- which is understandable, I imagine that is an incredibly hard thing to do. Joan also seems to have more of a "stiff upper lip" personality. Plus, Joan's story is different because right before and then also after her husband's death, her daughter was having serious medical issues herself (the husband died while the daughter was in a coma at the hospital). I don't think Joan had as much time to wallow in her sadness because she instantly had her daughter and her daughter's health to focus on. So while I did like The Year of Magical Thinking, it wasn't quite what I thought it was going to be. 

If I'm being honest, one way I could tell it wasn't what I expected is that I didn't cry as much as I thought I would. I cried more reading Joyce Carol Oate's excerpt than I did throughout Joan's whole book. Is it sick that I wanted more tears? More emotion? Probably. 

What I'm Reading, Pt. 1

I recently finished my 20th book of the year. As 20 is a nice round number, I decided I would share the books I've read thus far. I always love to know what people are reading (when someone is reading on the metro, I make a thinly-disguised effort to identify what book they're reading), and I figure other people feel the same way. So why not return the favor. 

(Note: I present the book descriptions in italics -- I did not write these; the descriptions were usually taken off the back of the book.)

(Note: Books are listed in the order I read them.)

1. A Gate At The Stairs by Lorrie Moore. (Fiction)

Tassie Keltjin, the daughter of a gentleman farmer, has come to a university town as a student. When at twenty she takes a job as a part-time nanny for a glamorous and mysterious family, she finds herself drawn deeper into their world and forever changed. Told through the eyes of this memorable narrator, A Gate at the Stairs is a piercing novel of race, class, love, and war in America.

The description seems kind of vague and generic, but after reading the book you realize how fitting the description actually is...the book really is a big discussion on race, class, war, and family. It's about a rich white family wanting to adopt a child -- class and race issues arise from this. And then it's about a white family raising a black daughter -- and the conflicts that arise from this. It's about family dynamics and how family members interact with each other. And how families deal with loss. Plus, it's right after 9/11 and war is approaching. Interesting subject matter.

2. Room by Emma Donoghue. (Fiction)

To five-year-old Jack, Room is the world. It's where he was born, it's where he and his Ma eat and sleep and play and learn. At night, his Ma shuts him safely in the wardrobe, where he is meant to be asleep when Old Nick visits. Room is home to Jack, but to Ma it's the prison where she has been held since she was nineteen -- for seven years. Through her fierce love for her son, she has created a life for him in that eleven-by-eleven foot space. But Jack's curiosity is building alongside her own desperation -- and she knows that Room cannot contain either much longer. Told in the poignant and funny voice of Jack, this book is a story of unconquerable love in harrowing circumstances, and of the diamond-hard bond between a mother and her child. 

When this book first came out I thought there was no way in hell I would read it. A book about a woman that was kidnapped and is being kept locked up in a room with her child (who is the product of her captor)? No, thanks. It sounded way too disturbing. But then I kept hearing a lot of great reviews about this book and it was shortlisted for awards. It was then that I realized the book was told through the innocent, naive point of view of the five-year-old child. So I started reading it at the bookstore, and found myself really enthralled with the book. Jack does not know that they are being held captive (his mom keeps it from him. His mother is a saint); to him, this is the only life he knows and he thinks this room is the world. He knows no other world. For instance, some nights the mom turns the lamp on and off, on and off -- hoping the flickering light will shine through the skylight (the one window in the room) and get someone's attention. But Jack thinks this is just a nightly routine, a game. He has no idea. It's interesting seeing this experience through the eyes of a five-year-old. I was also worried about how the issue of sex would be handled -- of Old Nick coming into the room. But, once again, it's told through the eyes of a naive five-year-old. Jack is put in the wardrobe and doesn't see anything, and the farthest it's described is Jack counts the number of squeaks the bedframe makes. It's not really graphic at all, which was my greatest fear. Eventually, Jack and his mom try to escape and what results is a page-turner story that I could hardly put down. The book is ultimately about how a five-year-old sees the world as a result of his quite unique upbringing. It's almost like a really interesting psychology/development book.  

3. The Brief Wondrous Life Of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. (Fiction)

Oscar is a sweet but disastrously overweight ghetto nerd, a New Jersey romantic who dreams of becoming the Dominican J.R.R. Tolkien and, most of all, of finding love. But Oscar may never get what he wants. Blame the fuku -- a curse that has haunted Oscar's family for generations, following them on their epic journey from the Dominican Republic to the United States and back again.

Lurking throughout this book is the brutal legacy of the Dominican dictator Trujillo, so you know there's plenty of hardships throughout this book and it's probably going to break your heart.  But it's still an amazing story.

4. Waiter Rant by Steve Dublanica. (Non-Fiction)

According to The Waiter, 80 percent of customers are nice people just looking for something to eat. The remaining 20 percent, however, are socially maladjusted psychopaths. Eye-opening, outrageous, and unabashed -- replete with tales of customer stupidity, arrogant misbehavior, and unseen tidbits of human grace in the most unlikely places -- Waiter Rant presents the server's unique point of view, revealing surefire secrets to getting good service, proper tipping etiquette, and ways to ensure that your waiter won't spit on your food. 

My waiter friends of course will love this book. But as someone that has never waited tables before, I found it really funny and informative. I love these inside-look books. Like Plane Insanity by Elliott Hester, where I got all the dish on the world of flight attendants. I love hearing what employees really think about their customers and co-workers. It's like shit-talking with a friend. 

5. Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann. (Fiction)

In the dawning light of a late-summer morning, the people of lower Manhattan stand hushed, staring up in disbelief at the Twin Towers. It is August 1974, and a mysterious tightrope walker is running, dancing, leaping between the towers, suspended a quarter mile above the ground. In the streets below, a slew of ordinary lives become extraordinary in this stunning portrait of a city and its people, connected in ways they don't yet even know.

There are such great and fascinating characters in this book. I love seeing how their diverse lives interconnect. It's also an interesting portrait of New York City in the 1970s and what a crazy time that was.

John Steinbeck

I'm saying nothing new here, but, John Steinbeck is such a beautiful writer. In his 1960 book Travels With Charley he travels across the United States (with his dog Charley), and writes about what he sees and who he meets. It's a really interesting book and one of my favorites of the year. To give you an example of his beautiful writing, here is what he wrote about the redwoods in Northern California (FYI, he grew up in Northern California):

I have had lifelong association with these things. (Odd that the word "trees" does not apply). I can accept them and their power and their age because I was early exposed to them. On the other hand, people lacking such experience begin to have a feeling of uneasiness here, of danger, of being shut in, enclosed, and overwhelmed. It is not only the size of these redwoods but their strangeness that frightens them. And why not? For these are the last remaining members of a race that flourished over four continents as far back in geologic time as the upper Jurassic period... And then the glaciers moved down and wiped the Titans out beyond recovery. And only these few are left -- a stunning memory of what the world was like once long ago. Can it be that we do not love to be reminded that we are very young and callow in a world that was old when we came into it? And could there be a strong resistance to the certainty that a living world will continue its stately way when we no longer inhabit it?

Isn't that such a great reflection? And that's what he produces when he decides he wants to write something about the redwoods he saw. Where other people simply see redwoods, he sees the human fear of smallness and finiteness. Impressive. 

Use Somebody

This is a gorgeous video, but it's incredibly sad. If you're not in the mood for seeing something sad, don't watch the video...but at least listen to the song. It is hauntingly beautiful.

Scala & Kolacny Brothers - Use Somebody (Kings of Leon cover)

(Be sure to watch it in full screen)

You Stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks! ...So You Get Nothing! You Lose!

Wow, has it really been 40 years since Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory came out? Granted this movie was made thirteen years before I was born, and I didn't see it until I was like seven...so the movie is more like 20 years old in my world. But, still, even 20 years ago seems like a long time ago (cue all those features going around on the internet that say "Don't you feel old: Macaulay Culkin is now 30, the last new Seinfeld episode was 13 years ago, The Lion King came out 17 years ago..." And it does make me feel old, and I do recognize the absurdity of that statement).

The cast recently reunited on The Today Show in honor of the anniversary (In case you're interested, you can see the video here. Though, it's not terribly exciting and the interviewer is pretty lame. But, spoiler alert, Violet Beauregarde obviously became a chain smoker...).

Apparently Augustus Gloop is the only one that got the memo to dress up like your character.

And does it weird anyone else out to see Veruca Salt smiling so warmly?

On one hand I'm like "Look how old they are!"; on the other hand, I'm kind of disappointed and I expected them to look even older. The movie was made 40 years ago! Like, what is Charlie Bucket's mom doing there? I expected she would have passed away years ago. Then again, I think I might have seriously overestimated the aging process and how old she actually was... I looked up Mrs. Bucket's (or Diana Sowle's) age online and I guess she's younger than both my (living) grandmothers.
Learning Mrs. Bucket's age inspired me to look at what happened to the grandparents (thinking, surely they can't still be alive, right?!). Grandpa Joe (or the actor that played him) died in 1981 at the age of 74. Grandma Josephine died in 1993 at age 93. Grandpa George died in 1974 at the age of 79. Grandma Georgina died in 1971 (the year the movie came out) at age 90. Wait a minute, Grandma Georgina was lying in that bed at age 90, while her husband Grandpa George lying beside her was 77?! That little cougar! To a lesser extent, Grandma Josephine was 72 while Grandpa Joe was 64 (he was only 64 years old and already couldn't walk from atrophy?!). 

You know what also concerns me? Grandma Josephine (Franziska Liebing) and Grandpa George (Ernst Ziegler) were born in Germany in the 1890s. That means that in the 1930s they would have been about the right age to be....I'm just saying.

But I'm glad that Willy Wonka is still being celebrated today. I love that movie (and the original source, obviously). It's a timeless classic. What kid wouldn't love a movie about a reclusive, bipolar candymaker that decides to off children because they have childish imperfections and curiosities?! And he gets his point across with the help of dancing, singing, orange midgets! Brilliant! Oh, and that boat scene (the LSD scene) still freaks me out...and so does Mr. Slugworth (apparently, the actor Günter Meisner played Hitler in numerous movies. Thanks, IMDB!).

I love my Willy Wonka record

Speaking of the Willy Wonka soundtrack, did anyone else see the Glee episode last night in which they sang "Pure Imagination"? God, I was crying my eyes out. (And then after that I watched the movie Rabbit Hole and cried my eyes out some more. Despite the movie being incredibly sad, I really liked it and thought it was very well done.) 

Space in the American West

There was a piece in The New Yorker by Geoff Dyer about traveling around the West looking at land art (e.g., "The Lightning Field" by Walter De Maria in New Mexico and "The Spiral Jetty" by Robert Smithson in Utah). One particular passage in the article expressed a familiar sentiment and it made me feel kind of homesick (that seems to be the best word) for the West. I guess another way of putting it is that it resulted in me having a longing for the West and its terrain. Here is the passage:

Perhaps it is not the natives of Texas or Arizona who fully appreciate the scale of the places where they have grown up. Maybe you have to be British, to come from a country the size of someone's back yard -- as Lawrence contemptuously expressed it -- to properly grasp the immensity of these Western states. So it's not surprising that Lawrence thought that "New Mexico was the greatest experience from the outside world" that he had ever had. Unprepared for the "shattering force" of the landscape, "a new part of the soul woke up suddenly."
The paradox of England: a tiny country that is impossible to get around. You can imagine a prospective visitor from Arizona studying a map of England and deciding, "Yep, we should be able to see most of this puppy in a couple of days." But how long does it take to travel from London to Gloucester? Anything from two and half hours to...well, better allow five, to be on the safe side. On the second thought, make that the best part of a day.
In the American West you can travel hundreds of miles and calculate your arrival time almost to the minute. We turned up for our rendezvous in Quemado at two o'clock on the dot. From Quemado, we drove four hundred and sixty miles to Zion, Utah, and got there exactly in time for our dinner reservation at eight-thirty. Our itinerary was as precise as De Maria's measuring.

I do appreciate the scale of the place I grew up. Eagan and I, having both grown up in Western states with wide open spaces, have discussed this topic together before. Time-and-Space is different outside of the West. Out here -- due to the roundabout nature of the roads (lots of indirect and twisting roads), the amount of traffic, and speed limit differences -- you don't get as far when you drive. I can drive for 30 minutes and end up only 7 miles away from where I started (and that's when traffic is not bad). In Utah, it takes 30 minutes to go from the city of Logan to Brigham City. That's 30 miles away. In the West, you have more opportunities to reach 30 miles in 30 minutes. Travel feels more substantial. From Logan to Brigham City you actually drive through a canyon and end up on the other side of a mountain range. You don't just end up 7 miles down the road.

Although I can get so much further distance-wise in the West (i.e., a better time-distance ratio), I can actually cover so much more territory on the East (in terms of borders). This paradox is due to the small size of Eastern states in relation to Western states. In Utah, driving for four hours will get me from northern Utah to central Utah. I can get halfway through one state. Out here, in four hours I can drive through six states (parts of six states). To further illustrate, the county I grew up in is almost half the size of the state of Delaware (in terms of land area). In fact, the county that borders the county I grew up in is almost three times bigger than the state of Delaware.

It definitely is an adjustment moving from the West to the East (or from the East to the West than to the East again, more appropriately). In the West, if you drive for 30 minutes you're going someplace 'special'. You're leaving your town. You're headed someplace else. Here, people commute 45 minutes just to get to their office.

Oh No He Didn't!

Here is a funny unaired sketch from this past week's Saturday Night Live episode with Tina Fey.

It's pretty "Oh snap!"

I Heart Miranda July

I first fell for the lovely Miranda July when I saw the adorable, quirky movie, "Me, You, and Everyone We Know." She wrote it, directed it, and starred in it. In addition to movies, she's written essays and books; she's a performance artist; and she's also a musician.

The New York Times recently had a feature where they had celebrities discuss their favorite summer movies. I love the little essay Miranda July wrote:

I was 11 the summer I saw "A Room With a View." Too young for romance? Not at all, I was a very passionate 5-year-old, so by 11 I had already survived several romantic (if entirely fantastical) storms. But this was the first time anything had ever really happened. By really I mean I was really sitting there in the movie theater, I really saw it -- the kiss amid the cornflowers. And then I came stumbling out into the night, and walked silently between my parents, trying to imitate the child I'd been 90 minutes before and conceal my transformation into a woman in love. Not with anyone, not Julian Sands or Helena Bonham Carter -- just in it, drowning in it, love.
Obviously nothing normal could ever happen again. I wouldn't go to sixth grade in the fall. I doubted I'd even be living with my parents by then. I looked up at them wistfully. They would worry about me, but ultimately I knew they'd understand when they saw how mutual it was. Yes: I knew love loved me too, the way it held me in its thrall.
I got in the backseat of our car as a sentimental gesture, out of respect for the family we had once been. But as we got closer to home, I had a sinking premonition. I would go to sixth grade. I would probably even get caught up in it, and get excited about something provincial, like a purple backpack. My heart was exhausted; I pressed my head against the window and searched the night sky.
What was the point of anything now? And why would anyone make a movie that turns you against your own life? Damn "A Room With a View." I'd been so happy before, so innocent and satisfied. I'm still working through this, by the way; I've made very little progress over the last 26 years. And watching it again and again only seems to make it worse.

She also recently contributed a piece for Dossier, an arts magazine. They asked "cultural notables" to contribute a story about their first sexual experience. Miranda described how she was 17 (she said "I think [my mom] was surprised it had taken me so long."), and her boyfriend was a 27 year old grad student at UC Berkeley. He was so poor that he didn't have a bed, so they just did it on the floor. I love how she ends the piece:

We went out for a few months. It was an intense, formative time for me. I was thinking very hard about everything, including, but not only, feminism. One night I suggested we drive up to the hills overlooking the city. We parked and stood together on the edge of a cliff. I asked him to go down on me while I looked at the view. When he stood up again, I broke up with him.

Finally, when looking for pictures of Miranda July, I stumbled upon this. How great is this poster for "Me, You, and Everyone We Know"?!

This is the inside joke of all inside jokes: see the movie. 

P.S. Are we surprised at all that her parents were professors and writers...and that they founded North Atlantic Books -- a publisher of "alternative health, martial arts, and spiritual titles"?!

Cafe Rio

Cafe Rio, a fast-fresh Mexican restaurant chain from Utah, has finally made it to the DC area. Cafe Rio has mostly expanded to states bordering Utah, but they made the jump out here probably because there's a pretty decent population of transplants from Utah. A lot of Utah mormons come out here to work for the government, or to attend one of the many universities here.

Cafe Rio is affectionately referred to as Mormon crack (the pork salads with the creamy tomatillo dressing are considered the most addictive). And, speaking from experience, you don't actually have to be Mormon to enjoy the food (I swear it!!). Every time we would go back to visit family in Utah, Cafe Rio would be on the list of places we had to go. When we moved away from Utah, we found copycat recipes so that we could enjoy Cafe Rio-esque food when the craving called. Now Cafe Rio has finally joined us here! And we couldn't have been more ecstatic. It's a bit out in the middle of nowhere (i.e., nowhere near a metro line), but luckily it's only a 25-30 minute drive from where we live. That could be a lot worse.

We heard about the new Cafe Rio location here during its first week of business. We heard the news on a Friday and went on a Saturday. So we went when it was still fairly new. We wondered if it would be very busy yet. Cafe Rios in Utah always have a line. It's just expected that if you want Cafe Rio, you're going to have to wait for it. We wondered how busy it would be at this one -- obviously Utahns in the area would definitely go, but how many would that be and how long would it take for them to hear that a Cafe Rio was in town? I should have known the power of Cafe Rio and its cult status... We pull into the new Cafe Rio and the parking lot was packed. We saw a shitload of minivans and SUVs -- the automobile of choice for many a mormon family. We also saw a decent amount of Virginia license plates (when Utah mormons move to the DC area, they end up living all over...but, there does seem to be a larger proportion that choose to live in Virginia. I guess DC and Maryland are just way too liberal for them...). Coming from Virginia means they were willing to drive quite the distance to get themselves some Cafe Rio. (Oh and there was even a Idaho license plate in the parking lot. They probably were relieved a Cafe Rio opened up while they were in town or when they just barely moved to town).

Walking into the Cafe Rio I experienced two things I don't see much of in the DC area: Tons of little kids and all the customers were white. Walking through those doors, I stepped into a portal that transported me to Utah. It really felt like we were in Utah. That could be the Utah embassy. There were so many young couples with children. There were also a decent amount of young pregnant women. I heard Utah accents. The outfits were Utah-mormon (including girls wearing tank tops under not-that-revealing shirts and dresses, men in khaki cargo shorts with brown leather flip flops. I also saw plenty of undergarment lines). The hair was Utah-mormon. It's hard to describe exactly what Utah-mormon hair or clothing looks like, it's just one of those things you know when you see it. Only people that grew up in Utah really know what I'm talking about. Just know that it looked like Utah exploded all over the place.

Eagan is posing with my salad and his. He didn't actually order two salads...

You could tell which people were the Utah transplants and which people were just visiting this new restaurant called Cafe Rio. The Utahns were the ones that didn't need to look at a menu at all, and they ordered their meals and all the fixings really quickly. I even saw people pulling out Cafe Rio stamp cards. You can always count on Utah mormons to be thrifty. Cafe Rio has a card where you get a stamp for each entree you purchase, and when you get 10, you get a free meal (and when this happens, the workers shout out "FREE MEAL!" They also shout out "EXTRA MEAT" when someone orders that). This Cafe Rio is in its first week, so the odds are this is the customers' first time coming to this particular Cafe Rio. Which means these customers have collected Cafe Rio stamps at other Cafe Rio locations and they keep the card with them, ready for any chance visit to a Cafe Rio. I myself do the exact same. I have a Cafe Rio card in my wallet that I keep for when I go to Utah, and I'm glad that I can now use it here. One person even got a free meal at Cafe Rio the night we were there (I bet the owners didn't think they'd be giving out a free meal that early in their tenure). That's another way you could tell the Utahns from the non-Utahns, when the workers would shout out "FREE MEAL!" or "EXTRA MEAT!", the Utahns didn't flinch at all. The other customers looked very confused.

One thing that kind of weirded me out is that the line/prep line went left to right at this location. Every Cafe Rio I have ever been to the line goes right to left...with the ladies making tortillas to the right and the person that puts your completed meal on the tray is to the left. It was the opposite here. It just felt wrong...

Halfway through our meal, we noticed a couple of young kids playing on the patio out front by the parking lot, unattended, while their parents ate inside. The kids were walking/balancing on a raised railing, with a cement patch down below. Like I said, I felt like I was actually in Utah.

But guess what?! This Cafe Rio is actually open on Sunday! That's definitely the time to go. I bet the place will be nearly empty. A Cafe Rio open on Sunday -- I never thought I'd see the day! I will revel in this rare opportunity.

Words to Live By

"If you go home with somebody, and they don't have books, don't fuck 'em." 

-- John Waters