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Category Archives: Firefly
A Tale of Two Memoirs
- Friday, 09 October 2009 14:23
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A few weeks ago I actually had some time at home to read! I had picked up two books (from Lincoln City Libraries, of course) to keep me in good reading, “Seeking Peace: Chronicles of the Worst Buddhist in the World” by Mary Pipher, and “DV” by Diana Vreeland.
I don’t think that I could have chosen two more different memoirs by women. “DV” in breathless language tells all about the globetrotting, namedropping, stylish life of a fashion maven extraordinaire. With almost not a single moment of self-reflection, she romps through her life story. I find her life on the cutting edge of twentieth century fashion fascinating, and I think that I’ll look for a well-crafted biography that will provide a little more context, and a lot more evaluation of her impact.
On the other hand, “Seeking Peace” is all self-reflection. Mary is a friend, and I’ve heard her speak about this book, so I knew what I was in for. I found her description of her Great Plains childhood and youth, framed by the meltdown she experienced in 2002, absorbing and familiar in the best way. Although she tells an excellent story, she uses each experience to learn something about herself, to think about why what happened in her life at certain points, came to be so important so many years later. When I consider the kind of public success that Lincoln’s own Pipher has experienced, I’m delighted that she opened this window into her personal story.
I loved the crazy contrast of reading these two such different books back-to-back. It’s one example of why memoir continues to be my favorite genre.
Not sure this one’s Notable–The Dark Side by Jane Mayer
- Tuesday, 06 October 2009 13:33
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I’m coming to the end of my annual exercise to read most of the books on the American Library Association Notable Books list (for adults).
I’m disappointed in “The Dark Side: the Inside Story of how the War on Terror Turned into a War on American Ideals” by Jane Mayer. I knew that this book was about torture, U.S. participation in torture, and the politics surrounding all that. I didn’t expect a pleasant read. I did expect sound journalism and nonfiction writing. Mayer fell short of my standard.
Mayer’s credentials are as a newpaper reporter, and a writer for the New Yorker. Too often, she included what struck me as hearsay information without following up on it. For example, when she introduces Timothy Flanigan, a lawyer in the White House Counsel’s Office, she concludes, “A friend said he drove the family in his own school bus.” (p. 50) Granted, this seems an insignificant detail, but did she not follow up by learning if a bus was registered to him? Did people observe Flanigan driving the bus?
I also see her language as often biased. One paragraph begins, “As the Bush Administration swept away the old rules, becoming unfettered and unchecked, it began to authorize the rendition of suspects for whom it had little or no solid evidence of guilt.” (p.125) That language (“swept away,” “unfettered,” “unchecked”) leads me to question Mayer’s objectivity.
I understand that in the course of her investigation, Mayer came to believe that the Bush administration went widely astray in regard to torture and treatment of detainees. It’s fair for her to share that point of view. I would have preferred that she present the information she found in a way that lets the reader make his/her own conclusion.
To be clear about my own point of view, I probably agree with Mayer’sconclusions that the Bush administration was wrong here. But I still want her to present this information differently. I want her to use less-charged language. I want her to show that she’s followed up on information that could be considered hearsay. I want her to present the factual information in a way that both sides would consider fair.
I’d like to know what you think of this…what responsibility do you believe this writer has to her information and her readers? IS it possible for a writer to develop a strong point of view as a result of investigation, and not employ language charged to bolster that view? IS that what readers want?
Another Notable Book–The Hakawati
- Sunday, 16 August 2009 13:46
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I’m continuing with my reading of this year’s Notable Books List from the American Library Association.
This morning, I finished “The Hakawati” by Rabih Alameddine.
It’s fiction, set in contemporary Lebanon as well as the ancient Middle East of storytellers. Alameddine stirs up a stew of story here, moving between two ancient stories and two lines of family history of Osama al-Kharrat. Al-Kharrat has returned to Beirut from LosAngeles. His father is dying. His heart and mind return to the prosperous Beirut of his childhood.
Osama’s maternal grandfather was a hakawati, or storyteller. Osama’s childhood, his grandfather’s life, and classic tales of the Middle East, take turns at our attention.
My issue as a reader of a book like this is that I usually prefer one story over the others, and find myself just enduring the others. In this case, I loved the grandfather’s story, and was sorry when it came to its end.
Alameddine uses language wonderfully. I kept a vocabulary list at my side.
Throughout this book, one keeps returning to this question–what does “story” mean? I’m distressed that I didn’t mark my favorite quote from this book. It’s very similar to, “Don’t trust the teller. Trust the tale.” I’ve got a fascination for authors who misguide us about their backgrounds–what does it tell about their tale? I find that topic delicious, every time I return to it.
Amy Tan wrote an extensive essay about this book for Amazon. I’m intrigued by her prediction of geat awards for this one. I’m not surprised that it was chosen for the Notable Books list. It is a classic choice for that list–an international setting, a complicated plot, and an author who’s nimble with language. I’d describe it as a challenging read, but I do believe that people who love storytelling, or are interested in the Middle East, or who love a family saga, will go for it.
Have you read it? What did you think?
Another Notable–Atmospheric Disturbances
- Monday, 03 August 2009 12:18
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Over the weekend, I finished “Atmospheric Disturbances” a first novel by Rivka Galchen, one of the selections on this year’s American Library Association Notable Books List. This one typifies many Notable Books fiction choices. Unusual characters. Fabulous prose. Unlikely plot. Suspension of disbelief. Lack of a tidy ending.
Leo narrates this contemporary story, describing how his work as a psychoanalyst leads to all kinds of confusion, bewilderment, and uncertainy, beginning with an unorthodox treatment of a patient. Leo believes that the woman who says she is his wife is a doppelganger, a fake. He is surprised to hear from the Royal Academy of Meteorology, which was part of his patient’s treatment. He ends up in Argentina with his mother-in-law and runs into his patient there. At every turn, Leo’s confusion leads him to behave dishonestly, and increasingly he seems out of touch with the world, and certainly with the people around him.
This first part of this book drew me in. Given the nature of the story I wasn’t surprised that the author didn’t tie it up in the end. I feel like I missed something critical in the reading because I wasn’t figuring out was was happening. But I appreciate being challenged to read books that don’t fit a typical mold. I’m pretty sure it’s good for me. And there were times when I re-read sections because the writing was so good.
On a book like this where I feel myself as a reader not up to the author’s challenge, I often take a look at the Amazon.com reviews to see how other readers reacted. In this case, the stars are all over the place–plenty of one or two stars, but also plenty of five stars. I’m trying to think of a better name for the category of Unusual and Challenging Fiction. They often show this range of reaction.
There are probably only a few people to whom I’d recommend this. They are my reading friends who prefer a plot that sets its own course, with characters who can’t be predicted, and where the progress of the book isn’t necessarily a progress toward resolution, but an exploration of an imaginative situation.