Lucky Girl, Dumb Me

Yes, this will be a book review – eventually. But first, first it is a confession. Lucky Girl: a Memoir by Mei-Ling Hopgood came to me as an Early Review book last spring. I remember its arrival clearly because its the first early review I finished in the new house. I also remember reading it just as clearly because I finished while I was lying in bed sick, just hours before I was to head to Bolton for a 60 mile cancer walk. What I don’t remember doing is writing a review for Lucky Girl. Somehow, after getting sick, walking 60 miles, having my mother as a house guest and going home to Maine I missed writing a LibraryThing review. Even though I don’t remember writing it, I never for a second thought that I didn’t. Imagine my surprise, no – my shock when I was gently reminded I am missing one Lucky Girl review! LibraryThing now has a way to track books someone has received as an Early Review. The database tracks when you receive a book and when you review it. It was on this page that I learned I failed to review not one, but TWO books. I knew about one – the one I didn’t finish, but Lucky Girl??? Lucky Girl!? I could have sworn I wrote something. I finished it on May 15th, 2009.

Better late than never, here it is. The review for Lucky Girl: a Memoir by Mei-Ling Hopgood.

Hopgood, Mei-Ling. Lucky Girl: a Memoir. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books, 2009.

One of the best things about reading a memoir is when it is a happy one. When the author has had a reasonably good life and has an even better attitude about it. It was refreshing to read a story about an adopted individual who a) knew all along she had been adopted as an infant,  b) was actually okay with it, and c) had no desire to hunt down her birth family if only to ask “why did you give me up?” There was no malice, no repressed feelings of abandonment or resentment. Hopgood had adjusted well to life with midwest American parents and bore no hard feelings toward the Taiwan family who couldn’t keep her. Hopgood’s memoir instead focuses on how her life changes when her Chinese family not only seeks her, but pulls her into their world. As she reconnects with her heritage the core of who she is culturally comes to the surface. She gains a deeper understanding of what it means to be American, to have Chinese roots, to have more family than she knows what to do with. In the end there is an element of forgiveness as well..even though she didn’t know she needed it. The honesty and humor that Hopgood writes with is delightful and the photographs are the perfect addition to an already enjoyable story.

Tattoo Machine

Johnson, Jeff. Tattoo Machine: Tall Tales, True Stories, and My Life in Ink. New York: Spiegel and Grau, 2009.

When I first requested this book it was one I felt inadequate to review. In the world of tattoos I have just one. One small, no bigger than a quarter, simple black and white outline of a sleeping cat. It’s not even in a dangerous place of pain. It’s snuggled on the fatty flesh of my hip. No tender skin of an ankle, inner arm or neck was sacrificed to the needle. I am largely unqualified to even begin to understand the culture of a tattoo, let alone the artist behind one. That being said, I wanted to request Tattoo Machine as a place to start. It’s if I’m saying to Jeff Johnson, “Okay. I’m game. Tell me your story and maybe I’ll learn something breathtaking in the process.” For the simple act of getting a tattoo was enough to take my breath away.

Johnson’s style of writing is very tell it like it is. He’s straightforward to the point of unflinching. Drugs, sex, rock and roll are frequent guests to the party but the guest of honor is all about getting and giving tattoos. Johnson reconfirms the stereotype that tattoo artists are seen as dangerous, on the edge kind of people. EMTs are wary of teaching them CPR. But, the unavoidable truth is that there is another side to tattoo artists. Artists such as Johnson can be well-read, intellectual, funny and yes, even sensitive. 

My only real complaint? Johnson includes an incredibly helpful lexicon of commonly used words and phrases in the world of tattooing. However, that dictionary comes after he has already written a chapter or two using the secret, somewhat strange language. The dictionary should come first.

ps~ Can I say I am disappointed I didn’t get any temporary tattoos with my advance proof? That would have been so cool!

Beyond Belief

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).

Heartbreaking Work

Eggers, Dave. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. New York: Vintage Books, 2001.

I didn’t even have to touch this book to know it was going to be great. It landed on my desk upside down. the first words I read from the back cover were, “Yes lets and then can we leave and run in shallow warm water.” I was intrigued, to say the least!

It’s the story of Eggers as a young adult faced with having to take care of his younger brother after losing both his parents to cancer. It’s sad and funny. Witty and sarcastic. It took my much longer to read because I had to drink every little word. I read the Rules and Suggestions for Enjoyment of This Book, the Preface to this Edition, the Contents, Achknowledgments, even Mistakes We Knew We Were Making which contains notes, corrections, clarifications, apologies, and addenda. Too funny.

A few of my favorite lines:
“I have visions of my demise: When I know I have only so much time left – for example, if I do in fact have AIDS as I believe I probably do, if anyone does, it’s me, why not – when the time comes, I will just leave, say goodbye and leave, and then throw myself into a volcano” (p xiii)
“Beth and I take turns driving him to and fro, down the hill and up again and otherwise we lose weeks like buttons, like pencils” (p 55).
Then there’s this scene. I don’t know how to describe it other than to say I’ve been there: “I want to put the box somewhere else…The box which is not my mother cannot go in the trunk because she would be livid if I put her in the trunk. She would fucking kill me” (p 383). This is so, so, dare I say it? Heartbreaking.

BookLust Twist: Pearl really liked this book. It’s mentioned four different times between her two books Book Lust and More Book Lust. From Book Lust: in the chapter “Memoirs” (p 152), and “The Postmodern Condition” (p 191) and again in the preface on page xi. Then again in More Book Lust in the chapter “And The Award for Best Title Goes To…” ( p 12).

August Was…

Where did August go? Sweet August raced by me like lightning in a stormy sky. For reading I was all messed up. I read two books out of turn and one completely by mistake! So much for planning! Anyway, August was:

  • All is Vanity by Christina Schwarz (Others will tell you Schwarz has put out better, but I say this one was good, too!)
  • Boy with Loaded Gun by Lewis Nordan (really, really interesting book)
  • A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers (another nonfiction…okay, I admit it. I read this out of turn!)
  • Postcards by E. Annie Proulx (really dark!)
  • Devil in a Blue Dress by Walter Mosley (I need to explain this one!)

What I admitted defeat on was Far Field because it just wasn’t light reading for the last month of sumer. I’ll pick it back up again eventually.

For the Early Review Program on LibraryThing:

  • Blackbird, Farewell by Robert Greer ( a really fun whodunit about a basketball star murder before his big NBA contract even began).

For the fun of it:

  • Top Chef: The Cookbook by Brett Martin
  • Islandsby Anne Rivers Siddon

August was also Sean Rowe, the Police, and Swell Season. It was getting a chance to hang out with really good friends, even for a second. It was Monhegan and a restoration of resolve.

Boy With Loaded Gun

Nordan, Lewis. Boy With Loaded Gun. Chapel Hill: Algonquin, 2000.

Lewis Nordan celebrates a birthday in August. I am pleased to have started off with his nonfiction/fiction memoir, Boy with Loaded Gunas my introduction to Nordan’s writing. I think it will bring insight to everything else I read of his. While this may or may not be a good thing, I am looking forward to it just the same.
Boy with Loaded Gunis heartbreaking and humorous at the same time. Pulling the reader down into sadness, lifting him or her back up with laughter. I found myself comparing the reading experience to that of a fast moving, slightly rickety, out of control rollercoaster. At times I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I didn’t know what was real or an exaggeration. But, I did know one thing, I loved every minute of it; page by page.
Nordan’s memoir begins with the chapter called “Voodoo” and Nordan’s inexplicable love for a voodoo practicing woman. It is at this time Nordan professes, “In these lonely backwaters and days of grief my memory begins” (p 7). We are then taken on a journey through Nordan’s young life while he struggles to love his step-father and escape the confines of small town Itta Bena, Mississippi. Later, it’s coming-of-age encounters with sex and marriage. Babies and buying houses. Alcohol and writing. Down and outs, ups and accomplishements. At times you want to love him. Other times you have to hate him. Just like real life. In other words, human.

Best quotes: “Two men got into an argument about whether a tree was willow or a weed. It was a small knife, and not a deep wound, so neither of the men went home, they just didn’t talk to each other for a while. Then they seemed to forget all about it, and before long they were talking about something else” (p 49).
“Eventually I tried to kill my father, of course” (p 69). Nordan does address the “of course” part of the statement, but it struck me as funny the first time I read it.
“I could scarcely tolerate standing in my own skin, let alone being strong” (p 188).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter “Lewis Nordan: Too Good To Miss” (p 172).

Black Dog of Fate: a memoir

Black Dog of FateBalakian, Peter. Black Dog of Fate: a memoir. New York: Random House, 1998.

I must have started this book four or five times. I don’t know what it was about the beginning. I’d pick it up, read for a few pages and put it down again, never getting beyond the first chapter. By the time I’d return to pick it back up I had forgotten what I had read and needed to start all over again. Page one. Finally, I took Black Dog of Fate home with me Columbus Day weekend and read it from start to finish. When I was finally able to devote the time and attention to it I couldn’t put it down.
There are very few books I try to push on other people. Very rarely do I try to tell people what I have read and how I feel about it, urging them to see for themselves. This story was different. From the moment I put it down I found myself struggling to put into words what had moved me so yet I needed to say something.

Here’s what I wrote within seconds of finishing it on Monhegan:
It’s the history you don’t commonly read about. It has the facts everyone would like to wish away; a genocide too horrible to imagine as real. The Armenian Massacre wasn’t a standard topic in my history class. As a rule I think we, as a society, want to sweep all and every horrific moment under our subconscious. This is a memoir about a boy’s growing knowledge and deeper understand of his heritage. True to adolescent ambivilance Balakian doesn’t understand the importance of his ancestry. In his youth all the stories his grandmother wanted to tell him were lost on him. It’s only after he is ready does his grandmother’s words mean anything to him. “I came to find out more about the arid Turkish plain when I picked up a book at a time when I was prepared to read it” (p 147).  

Other lines that struck me:
“…she would pass me the salty green nuts so we could celebrate with our teeth” (p 13). I think food is always the most appropriate way to celebrate.
“Hokee, soul. Hankids, rest. The soul’s rest: a memorial” (p 140).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter “A Geography of Family and Place” (p 97).