I have a new piece up at Slate today. This is, I think, the most personal thing I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy!
“I love you.” They were words I had longed to hear from Justin for years, but when he finally spoke them, something held me back. Three layers of Plexiglass and armed guards, to be precise. Keep reading…
I recently spent the weekend in Delaware, and I came back with all sorts of treats.
Salt water taffy–so necessary.
Dogfish Head is my favorite brewery because they are endlessly creative. Their Aprihop is now a staple spring beer for me.
No visit to the beach is complete with a flight at Dogfish Head! Pictured: 61, Midas Touch, 75, Firefly, and Positive Contact. All delicious!
Meet Lilly, the brand-new daughter of my best friend, Ruthie.
Aren’t they adorable?!
Title: If You Knew Suzy: A Mother, a Daughter, a Reporter’s Notebook
Author: Katherine Rosman
ISBN: 9780061735240
Pages: 320
Release date: May 2011
Publisher: Harper Perennial
Genre: Memoir
Format: Paperback
Source: Personal collection (memoir class)
Rating: 2 out of 5
After her mother’s death, Katie Rosman is left reeling. Her mother, Suzy, was only 60 years old, and the diagnosis of lung cancer came as a shock to the nonsmoker. After Suzy’s death, Rosman, a journalist, decides to investigate her mother’s life in order to understand how she faced her own death.
She interviews disparate but important people in Suzy’s life: a boutique clothier, a doctor in the ICU, a Pilates instructor, an antique glass collector, a golf player. In so doing, Rosman comes to a fuller understand of who her mother was and how she impacted those who loved her.
I liked the idea of this book, but I wasn’t a fan of how it was executed. Rosman’s voice is bubbly and fun, and it was at odds with the seriousness of her subject; she comes off as shallow and immature.
In fact, I was turned off on the first page, when the author recounts stealing her mother’s credit card and going on a shopping spree on the day that Suzy dies. Sure, shopping was a thread that connected mother and daughter, but it still seems insensitive and wrong somehow. My distaste grew as Rosman painted a picture of a sometimes selfish, neurotic woman who was terrified of dying.
She seems uncomfortable in the memoir genre, seeming more comfortable in interviewing others—even including complex details about those she interviews that have nothing to do with Suzy’s story.
Far from feeling closure at the end, I thought there were topics in her life and her mother’s life that Rosman left untouched. She details the thousands of dollars that her mother spent on collectible glass, but she fails to detail—and perhaps she doesn’t have enough information to detail—her mother’s inner life.
While I was intrigued by the idea of turning a reporter’s eye on a loved one, I did not enjoy this book. I wouldn’t have continued reading if it weren’t assigned in class. However, I did learn some tips. Interviewing those you wouldn’t normally think of can offer unexpected insight into a loved one’s life. And I also learned that having a tight, well-thought-out elevator pitch or story arc helps pull together otherwise disparate elements of a story, bringing it into tight control.
Interested? Read it for yourself! Buy If You Knew Suzy from an independent bookstore or Amazon (Kindle version is available).
I’ve thought for a while now that I might incorporate beer into my reviews more. But how to do it? I feel lame following in the beer-reviewing footsteps of my friends Oliver and Orr, so beer blogging is out. But then I saw Oliver’s call for submissions for a contest he’s hosting–stories that focus in subtle ways upon the interplay of books and booze.
I won’t depart too far from my wheelhouse, reviewing fine literature, but I will be applying a new technique: reviewing a book as one does a beer.
To make it even more exciting, I’ve also been sampling a fine beverage or two. (When in Rome!) I can only assume that this what my instructors mean when they encourage us to experiment with our writing.
What lucky book gets this new (brew) treatment? James Joyce’s Dubliners, of course.
According to Beer Advocate, there are five key aspects to address in a beer review: Appearance, smell, taste, mouthful, and overall.
Appearance
Dubliners comprises fifteen stories in a slim volume. I chose it because James Joyce is known as the Irish novelist, and Ulysses was too daunting. Also, I wanted to be seen reading something impressive on the metro. It’s all about appearances, after all.
The narrators grow in age as the tale progresses, which I wouldn’t have noticed if the kind guys over at Wikipedia hasn’t pointed it out. I did notice that I enjoyed the tales in the middle more, which in retrospect may have to do with self-identification.
Smell
I read an inexpensive Dover Thrift paperback edition. Books like that remind me of why I still enjoy leafing through a real book, my eBook addiction notwithstanding. Yes, I count myself among those who profess love for that print-book smell. I’m told it has to do with the slow decay of ink, which seems somehow appropriate for this collection of stories.
But I’m being too literal, even for a literary review. Joyce is a master of images, of describing the textures and contours of everyday life. You can’t help but smell that invigorating spring air that entices two schoolboys to truancy, or inhale the suffocating dust in the room of a young woman contemplating departure from her homeland. Readers are submerged in Joyce’s well-crafted, realistic environments.
Taste
According, once again, to my old friend Wikipedia, Joyce sent the manuscript out 18 different times to 15 publishers. No dice for the first decade. (You’ve got to admire the man’s persistence.) It was finally published by Grant Richards, but not before a harrowing editorial process; a previous publisher reneged on their agreement and even went so far as to have the printer burn the manuscript. Joyce somehow procured one last copy to turn into the next publisher, which thankfully had less pyromaniacal tendencies.
Why such a hubbub? Apparently some objected to his literary taste. His open exploration of relationships–including sexuality–threw some publishers for a loop. This was the UK’s 50 Shades of Gray–aside from the real 50 Shades, of course.
Mouthfeel
The book focuses on capturing the voice of the commoner, which is not so unusual now but was in Joyce’s time. He may have been searching for Irish national identity in this collection, and while it doesn’t seem like he he fully succeeds in writing a seminal Irish story here, he does break ground with his use of common speech and taboo but ubiquitous topics.
Overall
I liked most of the stories, but I’m not drunk on them. (See what I did there?) The story I liked best was, unsurprisingly, the best-known in the collection, “The Dead.”
I recommend this flight of fifteen stories to Joyce fans and those interested in learning more about twentieth-century Ireland; otherwise, readers might want to brave Ulysses after all.
Yearning for my usual ranking system? Oh, all right. I spoil you.
Title: Dubliners
Author: James Joyce
ISBN: 0486268705
Pages: 152
Release date: 1914 (originally); May 1, 1991 (Dover)
Publisher: Dover Publications
Genre: Fiction (short stories)
Format: Paperback
Source: Personal collection
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
Recently, I decided to memorize more poetry. I’m not going to set unrealistic expectations for myself, but there are some poems that I would like to take the time to commit to memory. This classic seemed like an excellent place to start.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
-William Butler Yeats, “The Second Coming”
Recently, I visited my cousins at their lovely southern Maryland home.
They have a gorgeous view of the Patuxent River.
I had a wonderful time exploring the water’s edge with my youngest brother, Casey, and my cousin Marjorie.
Title: The Color of Water: A Black Man’s Tribute to His White Mother
Author: James McBride
ISBN: 9781594481925
Pages: 336
Release date: 1996
Publisher: Riverhead
Genre: Memoir
Format: Paperback
Source: Personal collection (memoir class)
Rating: 4 out of 5
James McBride, the eighth of twelve children, always wondered why his mother looked so different from his siblings, his stepfather, and everyone else in their predominantly black neighborhood. He badgered her for details all of his life, and when he became a journalist, he began recording her responses.
His mother, he reveals in intertwined interviews and memories through The Color of Water, is always more than she has seemed—more than a Polish immigrant, more than an Orthodox Jew, more than a converted Christian, more than the only white girl in a black neighborhood, more than a survivor of domestic abuse, more than a widower, more even than a mother. Ruth McBride—nee Ruchel Zilska—is a warrior. And she teaches all twelve of her children to fight—for a good education, for equality, for love.
The book, which perched on the New York Times bestseller list for two years, is moving and compulsively readable, with easily grasped morals and a protagonist you can’t help but love.
The best parts by far were the interviews with Ruth, told in stunning prose from her point of view. Here, McBride shows his talents both for journalism and for music, capturing the cadences of her speech and compressing her stories into multifaceted gems. His depiction of her voice is the strongest part of the book. McBride’s chapters on his childhood pale in contrast to his mother’s tales; although his parts were enjoyable, I found myself racing to her next section. I wondered why we didn’t see more from her, until I read in an interview that he’d composed the entire book from her perspective and his editor said McBride should put more of himself in it. And perhaps she was right; The Color of Water was a mega-bestseller.
I also liked the structure of her memories side-by-side with his. In presenting this book to my memoir and essay class, I focused on the strengths and weaknesses of the dual narrative structure (presentation here).
I would recommend this book to middle and high schoolers. McBride’s tribute to his mother is written in simple, digestible prose, and the stories of both his and his mother’s life are compelling and informative.
Interested? Read it for yourself! Buy The Color of Water from an independent bookstore or Amazon (Kindle version is available).
This is one of my favorite weekends of the year–Spring Readathon! I’ve got a stack of books that I hope to finish today and tomorrow. Unfortunately, I have work-work to do, but I should still get some serious reading-work done too.
Here’s what’s on the menu:
I’ll be updating this post as I read, so tune in throughout the weekend to follow my progress! And leave a comment below with a link to your blog or social network updates if you’re participating, too.
I’m about 2/3 of the way through Wild. It’s going well so far, although I’ve heard it falters and loses some speed around where I am. But Strayed is a talented, confident writer.
A bird just flew up to my window and peered in, flicking his head back and forth nervously. Kizmet ignored him.
I’m still trucking–or should I say trekking?–through Wild. The end is in sight; I’m pretty sure I’ll finish it tonight after dinner.
I was interrupted earlier by a flash of white outside the front window. A beautiful pale dog stood at my front door, only skittering away when Tinker barked at him. I went into a neighbor’s yard, where the dog was trying to squeeze back through the hole in the fence he must have escaped from. I was able to get a leash on him, and I took him over to the house with the broken fence. The woman, who was pet-sitting for her neighbor, hadn’t realized he had escaped, and was very grateful that we brought him back.
Good deed for the day: done! Now back to reading.
I finished Wild! Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Wow, Melody. I thought you were a reader, and here you are slacking off on Readathon, the most hallowed reading holiday of the year. All you’ve done is finish a book you’d already started before this weekend!”
You’re right, dear reader, in that my literary eyes are always too big for my overcommitted stomach, and I have not finished nearly as many books as I’d hoped. But I have not been sitting idly by! Oh, no, I’ve been very busy. “Busy how?” you ask skeptically. I’m glad you asked.
A Partial List of Things I Did While Reading Wild
I’ve been keeping an eye on a new publishing company, Plympton, and I thought I’d share what they’re doing. (Note: This is not paid content; I’m genuinely interested in their innovative work.)
I recently met Jennifer 8. Lee at a journalism conference. Lee is a reporter who launched Plympton, a digital publisher of serial fiction, with co-founder Yael Goldstein Love. In predicting publishing’s future, Lee and Love have looked to the past and drawn inspiration from serialized authors such as Dickens, Flaubert and Conrad.
Plympton is taking advantage of the rise in tablet and e-readers to release serial fiction. The e-installments of each book will be released biweekly or monthly, ranging from 7,000 to 25,000 words per issue. The founders hope to launch the careers of new writers and to expand the networks of already influential authors by offering solid editorial assistance and tapping into new reading technology such as tablets and e-readers.
Online serialization of stories are not new; Byliner, the Atavist, and Longform, to name a few, have made names for themselves publishing nonfiction and fiction stories of varying length. Plympton plans to focus exclusively upon publishing fiction. When I asked Lee, a well-known nonfiction writer, why she’s focusing on fiction, she said simply, “That’s where the money’s at.”
And she may be right; their month-long Kickstarter campaign raised nearly double the amount they had planned. It didn’t hurt that Plympton’s first three titles were featured prominently in Amazon’s most recent Kindle event, when CEO Jeff Bezos introduced the Kindle Serials program.
This is an interesting business story, but more than that, it’s a compelling literary story. Publishers have scrambled for years to find a financially sound model for digital books, but Lee and Love may have found a simple solution that speaks both to the past and the future of fiction.
It’s not the only way forward, but it seems to be one viable path. I’m very interested to see how Plympton does in the next few months.
