Quiet American

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Greene, Graham. The Quiet American. New York: Viking Press, 1956.

This has come up twice for my December readings – once because of Ward Just’s birthday (don’t ask), and once because it is a companion read to Ward Just, again don’t ask. I’ll explain all that when I get to Ward Just’s book later this month week.

Like my friend who started decorating for Christmas, I started reading my December picks on 11/23/08. I couldn’t help myself. I had wanted to fit in Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling but my library’s version was not the complete works. In addition it was missing the two crucial stories Nancy Pearl specifically pointed out. Rather than disrupt the flow of order I moved onto December…a week early!

This was a story of two battles. An English reporter is sent to cover a war-torn Saigon. While there he falls in love with Vietnamese woman. His love is challenged when an American from Boston falls in love with the same woman. There is a real war raging on the periphery, complete with bombings and mass murders, while at the center is a battle over a woman. The interesting twist to this story is how the story makes the reader feel towards the two men and how that changes over time.

Best lines: “I shut my eyes and she was again the same as she used to be: she was the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup; the was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest” (p 5). That is such an achingly beautiful line!
“You cannot love without intuition” (p 13).
“The possession of a body tonight seemed a very small thing – perhaps that day I had seen too many bodies which belonged to no one, not even to themselves” (p 65-66).
“For a moment I had felt elation as on the instant of waking before one remembers” (p 205).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in two different places: in the chapter “Companion Reads” (p 64), and “Ward Just: Too Good To Miss” (p 135).

Cranberry Crazy

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feastMy in-laws didn’t want me to bring anything to the Thanksgiving dinner. They are gourmet all the way so I wasn’t really all that surprised. “We’re all set. Just bring yourself” they told me. But, that didn’t mean I didn’t offer – Stuffing? Done. Green bean casserole? P has her recipe. Sweet potatoes? Covered. Dessert? Five pies and counting. Mashed potatoes? Check. Finally, finally it was decided I could bring the cranberry sauce. Cranberry sauce! Instantly I thought: citrus, spicy and adult. One of each. Something raw (relish), something cooked (sauce). And…if they all sucked, I could always grab a few cans on the way out of town (hey, I used to eat that stuff straight from the can – STILL love it).

So, the citrus relish was in honor of my husband’s niece. Pineapple, tangerines, lemons, lime, maple syrup, and honey. If I had thought about it I would have added raisins and nuts since this was an uncooked, crunchy relish. Something for next year, maybe?

The spicy sauce was intended just to be a sauce for kisa and I – something a little kicked up. Cranberries, chipotles, Mexican cinnamon, sugar, ancho chili powder, and red wine vinegar. Simmered for a long time on really, really low heat. If I had thought about it I would have added shallots and garlic since this was a savory sauce. Something for next year, maybe?

The adult sauce was intended to be a port – a traditional cranberry sauce that everyone makes. I decided at the last minute to make a tribute to September 18, 2004 with some Tuaca – a vanilla orange liquor. Those of you who attended the festivities on that day will know exactly what I’m talking about! *wink*wink* So, it was a mixture of mustard, cinnamon, cardamon, cranberries and Tuaca. If I had thought about it I would have soaked dried fruit in more Tuaca for a really adult kick. Something for next year, maybe.
But, here’s the thing – they loved the sauces, all of them. Even the spicy sauce disappeared. Who knew?

So, I have officially been put in charge of cranberry sauce from here on out and my husband won’t stop calling me the Queen of the Bog. I’m already thinking of next year – sweet with strawberries? Spicy with jalapenos and tomatoes? Adult with sangria? Any ideas are greatly appreciated!

December is…

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img_00281December is one of the longest months in my opinion. But, it is also one of the most festive, thanks in part to the 25th & 31st. December is also the return of the Hot Chocolate Run, the return of the awesomely awesome Rebecca Correia (to the Iron Horse) and for reading books it is:

  • Anatomy of Murder  by Robert Traver in honor of John Jay becoming the first Chief Justice in this month (I’ll explain at review time).
  • Quiet American by Graham Greene in honor of Ward Just’s birthday (I’ll explain that in a second).
  • Dangerous Friend by Ward Just in honor of Ward Just’s birthday. I had always been told to read Quiet American with Dangerous Friend so that’s what I’m doing.
  • Family Affair  by Rex Stout in honor of his birthday.

And if there is time…

  • I’m a Stranger Here Myself  by Bill Bryson in honor of his birthday.

So, I’m celebrating author birthdays more than real life birthdays. What’s up with that? Not really sure I know myself….

November Was…

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Death of Spuke
November was an amazing election, the slow death of Spuke, an incredible Thanksgiving meal, a few birthdays missed, more houses than I care to admit to seeing, more paperwork than I care to admit to reading, and last but not least, a little bit of music (Sean!). We didn’t get the house and I had to take a few days to get over that…even though I wasn’t 100% in love with the house. How weird is that? Ah well.

For books read, here’s the list:

  • Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson ~ I went back and forth about this book…almost as much as the plot did.
  • The Darling by Russell Banks ~ Loved, loved, loved this book – full of suspense and great characters.
  • As I Live & Breathe: notes of a patient-doctor by Jamie Weisman ~ read this in one day!
  • Passionate Nomad: The Life of Freya Stark by Jane Fletcher Geniesse ~ such an amazing biography!
  • A Continent for the Taking: the Tragedy and Hope of Africa by Howard French ~ Very similar to The Darling. Same time period, same “characters” and events.
  • Best Essays of the Century edited by Joyce Carol Oates ~ while I only read a sampling of essays they were all good.
  • The Bronte Myth by Lucasta Miller ~dry and long.

For the Early Review Program (yay!):

  • Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back by Josh Hamilton ~ really fast but amazingly good read.

For fun:

  • Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson ~ a great story from my childhood about friendship. This was on my challenge list. I just decided to read it out of order one day.

Nine books…sort of. I’ll have a confession for next month 😉

Beyond Belief

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Hamilton, Josh. Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back. New York: Faith Words, 2008.

Do not expect Beyond Belief  to be eloquent or a great literary masterpiece. It is what it is – a straightforward, simple, eyt heartfelt account of one athlete’s fall from grace and subsequent redemption through religion. Drafted right out of high school and given a salary of 3.96 million, one can hardly anticipate fancy prose from Josh Hamilton. Instead, what lies in the 257 pages (with help from ESPN senior writer Tim Keown) is a humble account of his life as an athlete, drug addict, and finally, a man of faith.

Here are the lines I hope they keep, “in the vicious cycle of drug use, crack is the endgame. It eats you up from the inside out” (p 149), and “I understand that, and I expect that. My past invites that” (p225).

Bronte Myth

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Bronte mythMiller, Lucasta. The Bronte Myth. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2004.

In honor of British Literature month I added The Bronte Myth to November’s reading list. From the very beginning I was intrigued about this book; Much like how the Bronte sisters themselves invited an aura of intrigue from the moment they emerged on the literary scene. When they first began writing they, like any other authors out there, wanted desperately to be taken seriously. In an era where women couldn’t so much as travel alone the three sisters took on androgynous pseudonyms to in an attempt to hide their gender. Only these pseudonyms attracted too much attention once the sisters started to publish. The more they tried to hide their identities the more reviewers, critics, and the general public started to speculate on who they really were, not as authors, but as members of their society. Following the speculation came accusations and wild rumors -created to fill in the gaps of each sister’s true personality. Lucasta Miller attempts to unravel the mystery and kill the myths that surrounds the Bronte women. While Miller does an extremely thorough job I found the reading to be both dense and dry as a result.

Passage that made me think: “…Gaskell’s belief that though Currer Bell might be morbid, Miss Bronte was the soul of feminine delicacy” (p 59).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter, “Literary Lives: the Brits” (p 146).

ps~ sorry about the huge-ness of the pic. It’s just such a beautiful cover that I couldn’t bear to shrink it!

Saving Gracias

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"the 101"

Dear You,
Thanks for the phone call. Eerie to think, but I was just thinking I needed the “phone a friend” option and there you were. I am scared of this. It almost seems to big to bear; a skeleton in every (large) closet, an issue around every joist. To make matters worse, it’s all in my head.

Thanks for the stories. That “been there, done that” reassurance goes a long way – Especially on this road I am traveling. Speaking of traveling, I hope you got there safe. But, back to me – it’s all about me, you know. This eventoops, I mean PROCESS is such a roller coaster. I’m not a lawyer but I’m beginning to see the power of negotiating. Can I negotiate a whole new house (kidding!)?

So begins a new day of the waiting game. When I get the scoop, you’ll be the first to know. Have the cell phone handy because I’ll probably give you an earful.

Love ya!

Me, myself & moi

Best American Essays

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Oates, Joyce Carol, ed. The Best American Essays of the Century. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000.

As bloggers we cannot help but be reminded that November is National Novel Writing Month. It’s as if there a reminding hope that writing these one-three paragraph diatribes could somehow be transformed into something as concrete, or as interesting, as a full blown novel. I squirm with discomfort every time someone says I should write a book. While my stories are interesting…to a point, I don’t see a need to make them more than what they are: tiny bubbles of thought designed to pop (and ultimately, hopefully) go away when released.

Anyway. This isn’t about me and my nonability to write. This is about the complilation of essays from those who can.
Best American Essays of the Century wraps up the creme de la creme of essay writing from 1901 – 1997. Beginning with Mark Twain (“Corn-pone Opinions”) and ending with Saul Bellow (“Graven Images.”) As part of the Book Lust Challenge I read the following essays:

  • “Stickeen” by John Muir ~ “…for many of Nature’s finest lessons are to be found in her storms” (p 32).
  • “Corn-pone Opinions” by Mark Twain ~ “We are creatures of outside influence; as a rule we do not think, we only imitate” (p 1).
  • “A Law of Acceleration” by Henry Adams
  • “The Devil Baby at Hull-House” by Jane Adams
  • “The Crack-up” by F. Scott Fitzgerald ~ Life was something you dominated if you were any good” (p 139).
  • “The Ethics of Living Jim Crow: an Autobiographical Sketch” by Richard Wright
  • “Sex Ex Machina” by James Thurber ~ “Every person carries in his consciousness the old scar, or the fresh wound of some harrowing misadventure with a contraption of some sort” (p 157).
  • “Letters from a Birmingham Jail” by Martin Luther King, Jr.
  • “The Brown Wasps” by Loren Eisley
  • “A drugstore in Winter” by Cynthia Ozick

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter called, “Essaying Essays” (p 80).

Saute Scared Silent

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Obsession
Obsession

Forgive me for having a singular thought these last few days. When something becomes bigger than me it’s more like an obsession it’s really hard for me to walk away, especially emotionally. I’ll move onto to something else shortly, I guarantee it. There’s no way around it. I’ll drive my husband crazy if I don’t.

But right now, right here, this is what scares me. We are hours away from the inspection (yes, it was supposed to happen Saturday – everything is delayed and that just adds to the one-tract-mindness of me). Here’s the thing: I already know this kitchen won’t work for me. Not 100% at least. I can feel it. I promised Kisa I would compromise. I said I would try. But, but! But, I have no room for my beloved bar stools or book shelves. Where do my cookbooksdiaries go? Will my Emeril-ware really have to go in a hall closet? Say it aint so! It seems insulting to shove skillets and saute pans in a space built for scarves and overcoats. I’m spoiled by a beverage pantry, three different spice racks, space for a tortilla maker and beverage frother (don’t ask). Where, exactly, will that stuff go? Over 1,900 square feet of space and suddenly I’m stressing about storage. Shouldn’t I be concerned about the roof? The boiler? The foundation? Something bigger than a breadbox and cutting board? I’m thinking of selling unused cookbooks and never touched utensils.

But, despite the questions about the chimney and everything else, it’s the kitchen I keep coming back to. What if I can’t cook in this space? What if me, myself and all my stuff won’t fit in this space? I’ll admit it. I’m scared of this space.

Because I’m Insane

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I’ll make this quick: I have been absolutely positively missing my voice Mr. Sean Rowe, so so so I am planning on a road trip with kisa.
Saturday after Thanksgiving 11/29 – Show starts at 8pm.
Bread and Jam Cafe in Cohoes, NY

I’m leaving the info about Miss Rebecca Correia’s show here, too:
When: 12-21-09 (7pm)
Where: Iron Horse, opening for Brian O’Connor
Tix: $18 (in advance)

The Darling

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Banks, Russell. The Darling. New York: Harper Collins, 2004.

I hate using words like “gripping” and “suspense-filled” to describe a book, but this time I can’t help it. The Darling was both of those things and much, much more. Once I started reading it I dropped every other book and concentrated on devouring the words of Russell Banks. While his plots are always over the top I like that hairy edge of reality and suspension of belief.

It’s a political thriller, a sweeping epic spanning the decades of one woman’s life, and a social commentary on Africa, racism and greed. It’s all of these things. Dawn Carrington is Hannah Musgrave who is also “Scout.” Dawn/Hannah/Scout is a woman with a past as complicated as her many names. Brought up by affluent, almost snobby parents as Hannah she is drawn to the underworld of political terrorism as Dawn. On the run after being indicted for a bombing gone bad, Dawn flees to Liberia and, by marrying a government official, becomes Missus Sundiata, her fourth recreation. Told from future to past and back again Dawn/Hannah takes you on her unapologetic journey through deceit, corruption, power and humanity.

Part of the reason why I liked The Darling so well is because it was written by a man. Russell Banks is able to capture the voice of a woman as a wife, mother, and an individual fiercely protective of her independence and individuality. Even if she doesn’t know who she really is. The first person voice is reminiscent of Barbara Kingsolver’s Taylor Greer or Margaret Atwood’s Handmaid.

Favorite lines:
“I was not a natural mother. Was not programmed like most women with a mother’s instincts and abilities…It’s as if I was, and still am, missing the gene” (p 171).
“But how I wished I were invisible. My white skin was a noise, loud and self-proclaiming” (p 177).
“I woke just before dawn with a boulder of rage lodged in the middle of my chest and a desire to break someone’s skull with it” (p 236) – that sounds like something I would say!
“That’s the real American Dream, don’t you think? That you can start over, shape-change, disappear and later reappear as someone else” (p 255).

Another section I had a love-hate relationship with was Hannah/Dawn’s father passing away from a stroke. The detail of his death was almost too painful to read, having watched my father slip away much in the same way.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter “Men Channeling Women” (p 166).

Cross Your Roads

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Staring Down the House
Staring Down the House

Cross your roads and hope to fly. That was the message on my phone this morning. How did he know? I only told two girlfriends and a sister the news. I’m at crossroads yet again and it’s all I can do to hope for flight. Really.

My life is changing again. I think if I go back a few months, maybe a year ago, I said I didn’t want the same ole, same ole if I could help it. Well, fate has handed me another PassGo card and I’m changing again.

That’s all I can say for now.

Passionate Nomad

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img_4236Geniesse, Jane Fletcher. Passionate Nomad: The Life of Freya Stark. New York: Modern Library, 2001.

This has been hanging around the house for over a year now. I had no idea it was even on “the list” until now. Someone gave me a copy with the recommendation, “read it. It’s good. You’ll like it.” Okay. So, in honor of National Travel Month I put Freya on the list (as soon as I found out it was even on the list).

Freya Stark was an amazing woman. Not because she explored uncharted territories. Not because she dared to go where even the bravest of men hadn’t. Not because she had no regard for her own well being. Not even because she was an expert Arabist. She was an amazing woman because she dared, period. We hear about the glass ceiling and what women even today are tolerating. Freya faced all that and more.
Geniesse weaves a convincing autobiography of Freya Stark using letters to and from Freya, journals, interviews, but mostly from Freya’s own library of books written about her experiences. Freya was a prolific writer and so Geniesse had plenty of material to draw from. The final product is a fascinating account of one woman’s rise to recognition through exploration and encourage, especially during one of the most volatile times of our history – World War II.

A few favorite passages:
“One suspects that all her life Freya carried some degree of rage…” (p 23).
“A telegram from Freya requesting that a tin bath be shipped into the interior of Yemen was not unusual” (p 156). You go girl!
“Wherever she went to find solitude on this great, empty earth, from nowhere emerged some form of life, human or otherwise, to share the loneliness” (p 217).
“in the middle of the night she was awakened by the tinkling of a music box being played close to her ear” (p 250).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter, “Lady Travelers” (p 143). I am excited to think I will be reading some of Freya’s own works (eventually), – from this same chapter. Maybe next year.

Taking the Trouble

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Reconstruct

I learned a valuable lesson today. You have to take the trouble to be the trouble. Originally, I wanted to think I had all the answers. I came armed with what I considered reasonable solutions, reasonable requests. Instead I was met with words like “not strict enough” and “doormat” and “fantasy land.” It was hard to believe I was being described in this way, especially after the month I’ve had (or thought I’d been having).

I’m not fierce enough. This isn’t a popularity contest. No one should like their boss. Not one that should be respected anyway. I let people make the same mistakes a billion and one times, and if I include today, a billion and two. How do I say You Can’t Communicate in any other way? “There has to be a penalty for the mistakes” I was told. Okay.
I’m not diligent enough. I don’t watch the clock and add up the minutes. I don’t pay close enough attention to the comings and goings, the called out, come in lates. You can be late a dozen times on my lax watch. “There has to be a penalty for tardiness” I was told. Okay. Okay.
I don’t hold my cards “close enough to the vest” as they- no, as she said. I need to learn phrases like “when it concerns you I’ll let you know.” I need to recognize situations; situations that cost money like when people waste time wondering about something that has nothing to do with the responsibility. I need to re-prioritize people. Reorganize people. Re-everything. Okay, okay, okay!

So, I took a crash course in management. I took criticism on the chin. It made me stronger. It made me think clearer. It made going back to the office to work on the dreaded schedule a whole lot easier. I didn’t try to juggle the birthdays as closely; didn’t try to dodge the anniversaries; didn’t cave in whimsical requests. Like it or lump it I changed things up for the better. Finally. Finally, I’m taking the trouble to be the trouble. I like a challenge. I like confrontation and I like change. So, I changed me. When I handed the whole schedule – all 12 months of it- off to a trusted coworker I felt justified in my reasonings. It was a relief to let it go.

then I went home.