Contributions

Wazoo Farm craves the contributions of other imaginative gardeners, avid readers and film critics, and discerning music-lovers!

To become a Guest Gardener or Book (Children's/Adult), Music, or Film Reviewer, send your proposed contributions or question to: wazoofarm@gmail.com.

Thanks, good people!

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: MAYFLOWER BY NATHANIEL PHILBRICK

Mayflower
by Nathaniel Philbrick
Penguin (Non-Classics); Reprint edition (April 24, 2007)

As someone who considers “America’s Hometown” his hometown, my knowledge of the Pilgrims is nauseating at times. I grew up a stone’s throw from Plimoth Plantation (literally kids used to throw stones at it) and about 100 yards from the Eel River (which turned out to be an integral body of water to the Pilgrims).

In fact, I fell in Eel River at least 3 times in my life— fishing. It took me years to understand that fishing isn’t supposed to be an extreme sport (although I hear it is up for consideration for X-Games 2008).

All that said, for someone who has driven by places like The Governor John Carver motel, the Pilgrim Sands hotel, his whole life— and has even given audio tours of Plymouth Rock, the Plantation and the Mayflower II— Philbrick’s “Mayflower” was incredibly illuminating and enjoyable— and comes highly recommended.

I approached the book expecting to be regaled with stories of the treacherous journey across the sea in a tiny boat— but “Mayflower” concentrates heavily on what happened once the Pilgrims came ashore. The book traces the beginnings of the “cult” of Pilgrims and truly gains momentum as it parallels the leaders of the Pokanoket Indians and the Pilgrims in 1620— and the second generations of both.

The message of the book is timely— it stresses that a dynamic of war and conflict was not inherent in the relationship between these 2 cultures, and at first— through compromise, respect, and need— they maintained a delicate balance to avoid war.
However, when the second generation of Pilgrims became more and more greedy, and more and more intolerant of the Natives, war became inevitable.

“Mayflower” brings the reader from pre-1620, up through King Philip’s War (post-1670) and the incredible horrors of this conflict.

For someone who today lives a stone’s throw from the Boston Common (OK, maybe if you had a cannon for an arm) the idea of Indian heads mounted on posts, or people tied to trees there about 350 years ago, is horrifying.

I have read a bit on Native American history "Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee" for example) and found “Mayflower” to be a better and more interesting view on the details of the conflict and the incredible evil that often motivated the English settlers. While “Buried” displays the western expansion and details many battles, “Mayflower” gives the reader a greater arc of story and has more room for the personal details of the characters. Its voice and content are interesting, and it is actually a very easy read.

Finally, “Mayflower” attempts to parallel the dynamic between the English and Natives with that of the American’s and those in the Middle East today. It draws connections between the fact that religious differences, economic need, and cultural disparities are not the cause of war and bloodshed— as the original English and Native dynamic in the Northeast allowed for all these things in a delicate harmony. Rather, Philbrick shows, misunderstanding and greed are the root of war. And can certainly be avoided.

____________________________________
Reviewed by Kurt Cole Eidsvig
While Eidsvig's own ancestors may have been marauding, insane Vikings, Kurt bypasses a horned helmet in order to devote himself to painting, writing poetry, and adoring Frank O'Hara. For more on Eidsvig and O'Hara both, check out his blog.

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: UNLOCKING THE SKY BY SETH SHULMAN

Unlocking the Sky:
Glenn Hammond Curtiss and the Race to Invent the Airplane
Seth Shulman
Harper Perennial; Reprint edition (September 16, 2003)

Centered loosely around an experiment to get Professor Langley’s famed failure of a flying machine (often dubbed Langley’s Folly) off the ground, some 11 years after its fateful demise, Unlocking the Sky is an interesting framed narrative that reconsiders both the history of aviation as well as our contemporary approach to invention and discovery.

For the most part, it succeeds wonderfully, using this narrative device to tell the story of Glenn Hammond Curtiss, who is arguably one of the most important figures to modern aviation— yet someone who was more comfortable tinkering in his workshop than stepping into the limelight. For this reason, this treatment that centers on various experiments and airplane constructions is a brilliant way to capture a man who was at home in these situations. Unlocking the Sky treats readers to an amazing era of aviation history and discovery in the way that it must have been interesting to the people involved— discussing ideas, adjusting the size of wings and propellers, hoping the wind will die down, and the like. We are placed in the workshop with these pioneers of aviation to experience the wonder of getting a piloted airplane to fly, and turn, and land— all to the cheers and roars of the entire world watching.

What did I learn from Unlocking? First off, Orville and Wilbur Wright were pretty bizarre, and were definitely jerks. Second off, Curtiss invented a variety of things that are still in use in aviation today— the seaplane, ailerons, landing gear, etc., etc. So, next time you read Jimmy Buffett’s Where is Joe Merchant, see that seaplane on the cover and think to yourself, “boy, that would be great to own a seaplane,” thank Curtiss (he’s dead now, but thank him in spirit), as well as Buffett’s cover artist.

As someone who is relatively terrified of flying, I was hoping that Unlocking the Sky could actually unlock the sky and make me want to get on an airplane. If this is your hope as well, might I suggest valium or a hypnotist? However, if you are hoping for an easy summer read that might give you some learnin’ in an interesting way, Unlocking the Sky will only cost you a couple of sittings.

In other news, I am drafting a letter to Harper Collins Publishing to offer a lawsuit based on their false advertising— as the sky still remains firmly locked for me.

The drawbacks to the book are twofold. At times, despite its attention to an all-American figure of an under-educated yet brilliant hands-on inventor, the voice gets a bit pretentious and overblown at times. Personally, I am no fan of this type of writing— especially in a biography— but it also doesn’t gibe well with the formation of the framed narrative and flashbacks that work so hard to present Curtiss in his true environment.

The other problem, which I have found in other biographies (or biography-type works as this isn’t truly a bio) is that it gets stuck on its thesis. In order for us to be interested in these people, the author needs to give us something to hook our teeth into besides “this person was alive.” In the case of Pollock it was “he was a lonely and depressed drunk,” and after a while reading Jackson Pollock; An American Saga I kept repeating to myself “I get it, I get it, I get it.”

Here, the messages are: “Orville and Wilbur Wright were jerks, Curtiss was a kind and generous spirit, and all inventions are an accumulation of ideas— an evolution of group thinking over time— not just a lone ‘a ha!’ in a lab someplace.”

At times during Unlocking, I thought “I get it, I get it, I get it.”

What is perhaps the most interesting facet of the book, besides the crafted storytelling, are the questions it poses regarding technological progress, invention, patents, and patent law. Our system of protecting ideas, meant to foster advancement of technologies, oftentimes becomes a hindrance to progress. In the case of the airplane, the Wright brothers’ patent was so broad they expected to receive royalties on any manned airplane. Far from promoting advancements in a new technology, this legally-imposed monopoly had people in great legal battles and personal turmoil during their development of the technologies that would lead to the jets and airplanes we have today.

It makes one wonder in today’s climate of searching out medical advancements and environmental solutions if the patent laws as they stand don’t fully suit our needs. As we all know, once lawyers and corporations get involved, it is hard to compete with their resources and money— even if you are in the right. Indeed, Curtiss was ordered to stop working on airplanes more than once by judges and the letter of the law, and without the help of Henry Ford’s legal team would have never got many of his ideas off the ground— literally.

Excuse me, I couldn’t resist.

Finally, as with all biographical material, I return to the book De Kooning: An American Master. In a similar approach, the authors attempt to get the reader into the studio to see de Kooning at work; at home with his art and struggles with creating powerful works. Shulman uses a similar tactic here in trying to get the reader into the workshop, centered on some pivotal experiments, and using these as a point of departure for presenting back story. De Kooning, is pulled off much, much better— the difference? Unlocking the Sky will cost you a few days of reading this summer, De Kooning, you will be lugging around to the pool and the beach until Labor Day.

Reviewed by Kurt Eidsvig
Eidsvig is an important contributor to Wazoo. Eidsvig, we have seen your art. We have seen your reviews. Where are your poems?

To hear Eidsvig's poems, attend one of his Boston Poetry Slams or satisfy yourself at his website, www.kurtcoleeidsvig.com.

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: AN AMERICAN LIFE BY WALTER ISAACSON

Benjamin Franklin: An American Life
by Walter Isaacson
Simon & Schuster; Reprint edition (May 4, 2004)

I am always pretty careful when embarking upon some serious non-fiction— 6oo some-odd pages worth in this case— as I have an inquisitive mind, but not one that can resist the yawner biographies that are mass-produced these days. Luckily, in Isaacson’s treatment of a much-written-about and much-mythologized subject he manages to create a compelling narrative and interesting voice that carries the reader (not literally, as I am unseasonably heavy right now) through the life and times of Benjamin Franklin.

Ben Franklin— or B. Franks as I have come to call him— was an exceedingly interesting guy. He invented things— bifocals, lightning rods, political cartoons; he developed organizations— libraries, fire departments, postal service; he signed stuff— peace accord with England , treaty with France , Declaration of Independence, U.S. Constitution; he…

Well, let me put it this way, HE IS THE BENJAMINS. When a rapper says “it’s all about the Benjamins, they’re talking about B. Franks. So turn down your Kanye West and listen up.

Although, that Kanye West is really on to something, don’t you think? Or what about that Fall Out Boy— not their new album, or even “Under the…” but that “Take This To Your Grave” is a real toe-tapper, wouldn’t you say? But I digress.

What struck me as most interesting about the book was the character of B. Franks— he was free-spirited and simultaneously diligent to his beliefs. For instance, while we might think of Ben Franklin as a pudgy old dude who was busy signing the Declaration of Independence and flying lighting kites, he was a fairly rebellious young kid. By 17 he had run away from Boston to Philadelphia and not long after that he hopped ship to live in London (which was a 6-week voyage at the time). Franklin was a globetrotter before the Grateful Dead even had a tour bus. It is astounding to me to think that in the early- to mid-1700’s B. Franks was living in Philadelphia, Boston, London, France— with trips to Montreal and all up and down the colonies. He was the most well-traveled and knowledgeable person about all 13 colonies up until the Declaration of Independence was signed— and maybe after.

I can’t help but think of all the times I sat around with my flunky buddies and we talked about a road trip and instead wound up at 7-11 buying Cheetos. B. Franks was criss-crossing the globe and meeting famous people all over the world.

By 17, it is suspected, that he was the best writer in “the colonies.” And he was self-taught for the most part. His style is considered a father to Mark Twain and American writing. Further, he is now considered the most important scientist since Newton — before Einstein and physics, etc.— for his experiments with electricity.

Also of interest was his dedication to true democracy (he was considered radical to many when they drafted the Constitution), as well as his commitment to the greater good in compromise. In an era when we too often can confuse compromise in politics with self-seeking, Franklin ’s personal style of pushing for the greater good— with compromise and diplomacy— reveals the necessity and strength of these tools when combined with a passion for common people’s rights and a disgust for aristocracy.

Probably my favorite scenes in the book come when Franklin hits Europe for the second time. By then he was considered a demigod for his discoveries with electricity and lightning. Consider this: before Franklin , when a town had difficulties with lightning, there was often a sense that God had somehow become upset with them. The solution? Build a taller church, with a big metal bell, which would inevitably get crushed by lightning. Franklin develops the lightning rod and people revere him. He not only saved their churches and homes— but the sense is almost that he got God to be happy with them again. When Franklin was a delegate to France in the 1770’s there were hundreds of coins, miniatures, and representations of him dressed as a frontiersman.

He was like the P. Diddy of his time— times 100. He attended a party in France — one where everyone was wearing powdered wigs. Well, B. Franks wasn’t down with that high-class stuff, so he wore his fur hat. The next year, women’s wigs fashioned in the manner of the fur hat he wore were a fashion craze in Paris . The next year he attended a function simply carrying a white hat in his hand. Of course, white hats were the next fashion trend in Paris . Who else besides B. Franks was a scientist, writer, civil servant, AND a fashion icon. Look out fashion week.

The one negative about the book? It is not juicy enough at times. Isaacson takes great care to provide a fair representation of the man. While much has been said of Franklin as an adulterer and a party animal, the book tempers these stories with a true sketch of the man rather than a sensational E! True Hollywood Story version.

All in all, a fascinating book. Not the best biography I have read (which goes to de Kooning: An American Master by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan), but a great one regardless.

As French financier A.J. Turgot said about Franklin :

“He stole lightning from the sky / and the scepter from tyrants.”

--REVIEWED BY KURT COLE EIDSVIG
Eidsvig is a wicked-good painter and poet who lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Check out his art at the Wazoo Art Show (posted last month) and at his website.

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Robert Louis Stevenson
Norton 2002

Robert Louis Stevenson was a fascinating figure—a proud Scot who keenly felt the humiliation his people had suffered from the English, but who also, because of his debilitating bouts with Tuberculosis, lived much of his adult life exiled from his cold and wet homeland. He spent time in France, lived for several years in America, and ended his life on an isolated ridge in Samoa, but he never forgot Scotland, writing of the last great Scottish revolt against the English in novels such as The Master of Ballantrae even as he was oceans away.

The gothic romance Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde doesn’t at first seem to offer any insights into Stevenson’s mind, but then we realize that the cesspool of a city which allows a beast like Mr. Hyde to wander unnoticed for months is none other than London, seat of a swaggering empire that extended from Edinburgh to Sydney. And what a city it is! A sprawling, decaying one, full of alleys, shadowy back entrances to respectable homes, and endless empty streets eerily lit by gas lamps. Brutal and callous. Nightmarish and hypocritical. This is Stevenson’s portrait of the city he spent his life avoiding.

One of London’s stories is that of Dr. Jekyll’s fiendish double, Mr. Hyde. Our first glimpse of Hyde finds him coldly trampling an eight year-old girl when she stumbles into his path on a midnight street. We soon discover that he becomes stronger and more vile as time passes because the city provides ample opportunities to gratify every appetite, no matter how depraved, that he can conjure up, and before long, Dr. Jekyll, the respectable gentlemen scientist, no longer has any power over the monstrous, murderous self he allows to stalk anonymously through London’s “labyrinths of lamplighted city.”

In the end, the genteel, professional men who unravel the secret of Jekyll/Hyde regret their discoveries. One man dies of shock, while another swears never to broach the subject again, locking Jekyll’s written confession away to save the doctor’s reputation. Thus Stevenson closes his novel, and another of London’s ghastly secrets stays buried, perhaps only one of many…

Reviewed by Jeffrey Clayton
Jeffrey Clayton balances the following with felicity: completing his dissertation (PhD English Literature), substituting elementary kids, and monitoring the Astros baseball team. Clayton's fount bubbles with alacrity with subjects from Trollope to Dr. Pepper knock-offs. He currently resides in the Houston, TX area.

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: The Good Good Pig

The Good Good Pig:
The Extraordinary Life
of Christopher Hogwood
Sy Montgomery
Ballantine Books, reprint April 2007

Let me preface this review by mentioning that of late I rarely finish a book, so be assured The Good Good Pig is short and easy to read.

The Good Good Pig is a biography written by naturalist and author Sy Montgomery, who lives in rural New Hampshire. As a pig lover, the title of this book was enough to entice me.

The book follows the life of pig Christopher Hogwood, who is rescued as a sickly runt by Sy and her husband and kept as a pet. The story goes beyond Hogwood’s life to touch on the difficulties of marriage between people of different faiths, compassion, dealing with loss, and the ability of pets to assist in emotional and physical healing. (A bonus: eight pages of color photos of Hogwood and some of his friends.)

Sy Montgomery's writing is light and interesting. I found it difficult at times to keep the many characters, all friends of Hogwood, straight. But it was pleasant to be transported to Montgomery’s small New Hampshire town, and by the end of the book I felt that its residents were my neighbors.

Overall, I would recommend this story to animal lovers and small scale farmers trying to live close to the land. This is truly heartwarming story of the love between a woman and her pet.

--Reviewed by Tonya M.
Tonya M. lives on her own piece of lovely land in Greene County, PA, with two sweet daughters and an enchanting willow tree. When she's not fending off deer, she's either reading to her girls or working as a physician's assistant at the college health center.

CONTRIBUTOR BOOK REVIEW: Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo

The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Victor Hugo
Modern Library; New edition (October 8, 2002)

This story is as impressive and gothic as the building whose name it bears: a soaring classic tragedy not to be missed. Hugo is an author who can craft a story about the heart and soul of humanity, and while this one does not quite reach the heights that Les Miserables, no careful reader will leave it untouched.

Hugo’s primary strength, in the tradition of Jane Austen, is his characters. They are all full bodied people, internally consistent, yet capable of surprising one. Esmeralda, the gypsy girl, is a prime example of this. She is tender and compassionate, and yet has all the fluctuating passions and selfishness of an untutored teenage girl. Unlike many of Dickens’s unbelievably angelic heroines, wisdom and foolishness are both equally present in her, strength and weakness combined in the right proportions.

This work is not as powerful as Les Miserables simply because its theme is not as powerful. Les Miserables’s theme is grace and justice. In Hunchback, Hugo tackles the theme of idolatrous love by taking the most cherished of human loves, the love between a man and woman and the love between parent and child, and shows how they all can be twisted into a self-love that always results in the destruction of the self and often the destruction of the object of the love. He gives us a bereaved mother whose obsessive grief turns her love to hate, and a man who allows unvarnished lust under the name of love to lead him unwavering to damnation. Hugo skillfully juxtaposes these and other more subtle examples with striking examples of self-love, selfishness in all its degrees, to show that when love has fallen, it is indistinguishable from selfishness, and even from hate. Indeed, as portrayed in Hunchback, pure selfishness does not have nearly the same destructive power as twisted love. Readers of C.S. Lewis will find strong parallels between Hunchback and Lewis’s The Great Divorce and The Four Loves.

The book still has all of Hugo’s stylistic quirks that may make it tiresome to the modern reader. In particular, his habit of interrupting the story with essays on tangential topics can be tedious, and a reader may be forgiven for skimming or skipping over the chapters on the history of Paris, the history of architecture, and the interplay of the arts (although, once again, Hunchback does not attain the same, uh, level as Les Miserables; I doubt that any tangent in history can match Hugo’s detailed diatribe on the Parisian sewer system). Not that these are necessarily worthless in themselves, but they do drag down the story. In addition, there are some parts of the story that seem to be leading somewhere, notably that of alchemy, which never intercept the main plot and are not concluded, giving the book a slight unfinished feel. Perhaps Hugo intended them merely to add to the atmosphere of the story, which they do, but he develops them too much to leave them hanging as he does.

Regardless of these quibbles, it is still a work of great depth and power. Powerful because its theme calls on the reader to look into himself, and question the motivation behind his own loves. Hugo paints his characters so skillfully, laying bare their thoughts and motivations, that one can see fragments of oneself in them. The reader is offered through their tragedy a light into his own heart and a chance to root out a little more darkness.

Reviewed by: W.C. Long
W.C. Long spent his childhood in Botswana, handling snakes and scorpions with abandon. He is currently teaching his daughter the same pastimes on the Virginia coast.

In Celebration of All That's Petty (and a Few Things That Aren't)

GOLD TOE SOCKS: AMAZON: (5 CUSTOMER REVIEWS)

This morning found Merry, Elspeth and me sorting through a sea of mismatched socks in time Chattanooga ChooChoo. Pardon me, boys. . .

Estranged socks drive my sister batty, so it's a good thing she doesn't live with the mountains of single socks that mark my failed attempts at organized laundry. I've taken to pairing socks that look somewhat alike (patterned and patterned, pink and pink, etc.); Merry and Elspeth certainly don't care.

She's gonna cry till I tell her that I'll never roam. . .

Look, when you're in college you vow NEVER to be taken over by the petty cares of the world. No siree-Bob, you're going to rise above the rat race scrambling around like idjits squeezing tubes of toothpaste from the end and separating laundry and sorting silverware into little sections in kitchen drawers. You're going to shake, rattle and roll the world, baby. There will be absolutely no time for folding fitted sheets or paying bills.

Hah! But now you're out of college and one night when you're all grown up, you catch yourself writing a review on an ice cream scoop on Amazon.com. What's the matter with you? Not rattled the world's teeth yet? You've settled for a moment of fame on Amazon as you wax eloquent on your favorite forged steel ice cream scoop. Very nice. There are your ideals, swirling down the drain.

And as you consider many things, such as what cycle to dry your new wrinkle-free pants on, and how many days elapse before Netflix will send you your new film, and whether or not the kid's sheets really need to be changed more than every month, you feel your nose quivering with the inevitable sprouting of whiskers. You've joined the rat race.

* * * *

But only occasionally am I the rat in the maze, sniffing out cheesey nibbles and reading the backs of boxes for sodium content and transfat. Other times I actually take the time to read books or listen to good poetry, like

Gary Soto. What a breath of fresh air his poems are! Martin read them out loud to me last night. Soto will blow the top off your head. His narratives, if you can use such a heavy term for his precise, spare language, are startling in their layered transcendence. That sounds like a bunch of gobbelty-gook, so just let me say: if you want to read some really terrific poetry and have a good time doing it, read Gary Soto.

And here's the rundown on NPR's weekend music. In the future, I'll let Martin guest write this feature since he's genius-musicman. But for now,

Check out The Magic Numbers, a brother-sister, brother-sister group from UK. If you want to kick back and enjoy yourself or if you've got a long drive, you'll love their easy-going 60's vibe. And their songs are diverse enough that you won't tire of them. I'm the kind of person who goes for a CD out of pure enjoyment, and I can see myself wearing out The Magic Numbers' jewelcase. Four to five stars.

Stuff your ears with cotton balls before you listen to Tina Dico. Dico channels an Alanis Morissette sound accompanied by all the self indulgence and pseudo poetry that makes me cringe. Apparently Dico's passed up Coldplay and U2 in her native Denmark--chalk it up to personal taste but I find her groaning sound grating and (as Martin says) her cliched "Long Goodbye" definitive of her music in general. One star.

In contrast, Cara Dillon's got a clear, lovely sound that will knock your socks off. This singer-songwriter from Ireland is a pure pleasure to listen to, not just for her unaffected voice but for her thoughtful lyrics (she writes about topics like immigration, etc.). Though I think she could stick with more of an unadorned acoustic sound instead of the distraction of occasional orchestral swells, I give her four stars.

Oh, and here's an up and coming artist you shouldn't miss. Merry. She's already got a selection of songs and her album cover. (Check out Uncle Luke who sings background).

Nibble, Nibble, This and That

I am full of good things and I wanted to spread a tasting table for you:

MUST-SEE NEW MUSIC
Matisyahu. Orthodox Jewish Rapper. Need I say more? Go and watch his "Jerusalem" (click on "Matisyahu," above).

GOOD BOOKS LATELY READ

Sandra Cisneros' Woman Hollering Creek
I hadn't picked this up in a long time, but in Arizona I plunged into the often lyrical, imagistic writing that Cisneros masters so well. Add to this that her stories are often as short as a page and a half, and add to this that her characters are engaging and engrossing, and most of her stories stylistically hit slam-wham on the head, and you've got yourself a good read.


Wendell Berry's Hannah Coulter
W. B. is known most widely for his essays, and there's a good reason for this. However, I thoroughly enjoyed this fictional work; WB sketched the character of this mother, farm owner, wife, and hard worker well. Some passages, (the last page of the book where Hannah Coulter dies, for example) are lovely and convincing. You never forget it's Wendell Berry writing; if you want a gentle impression of the prophet's philosophies, pick up this book.

Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children
I did not expect to find Rushdie so accessible and engrossing. But I did. Combine politics, humor, quirky characters, a twisting plot, violence, philosophy, supernatural and religious experience, history, imagination, lyricism, and the longest sentence I have ever read in my life, and you've experienced just a little bit of Midnight's Children. I never expected to laugh out loud and then be so disturbed as I was while I travelled through this book. It made me stay up far too late, and that's a sign of a good story.

ENCHANTING MOVIES
Let me just say: Miyazaki. I've never gone absolutely gaga-waga about anime, but on the recommendation of friends with taste we ordered Tatoro and Kiki's Delivery Service from Netflix. We were not disappointed, and although I felt Merry might be frightened by Spirited Away, the other two were child-friendly and charming.

A few things I really love about Miyazaki:
scenery of his films, especially the clouds and trees
strong, courageous female characters
good story line
supernatural worked seamlessly (and unspookily) into everyday existence
celebration and respect of the natural world
celebration and respect of the elderly
way the characters giggle at odd times (at least to the Western ear)

There's one scene in Totoro (the stronger movie of the two) that set me laughing out loud in sheer delight, when the spirits and the children are bowing at chestnuts as they sprout and bloom. It's absolutely magical. The father character is Totoro is exceptional; a favorite scene of mine takes place in the bath while he and his two daughters guffaw at the top of their lungs to chase the soot mites. If you want a numinous experience, order a Miyazaki film as soon as you can.

CONTRIBUTOR REVIEW: JOAN OF ARC BY MARK TWAIN

Joan of Arc

Mark Twain
Ignatius Press; New Ed edition (September 1989)


For someone familiar with Twain, this novel will seem a bit odd as it has none of his classic wit or biting sarcasm. Indeed, it was originally published under a pseudonym because Twain thought that people would expect these things from it and be disappointed. To be truly honest, this reviewer understands Twain’s reluctance to be associated with it, as this foray outside of his usual writing style was not his best work.

The narrator of the story is eighty-year-old man writing to his grandnephews. He was a childhood friend of Joan’s, who later became her secretary, and finally the recorder at her final trial, and thus represents a firsthand witness to all the important events of Joan’s life. His narration is colored throughout the story by an almost idolatrous esteem for Joan; he never married and it is suggested that this is because he never found a woman who could live up to her. This esteem is not a problem in itself; indeed, the reader can hardly help but admire Joan nearly as much as the narrator does. The problem is that the admiration taints the style of the storytelling. The narrator is constantly padding every part of his story with extraneous praise for Joan; barely an incident passes without him adding a comment reminding the reader that what Joan had done only served to highlight what a sublime creature she was. This is disappointing because Joan’s character is perfectly obvious from the story itself, and the added commentary only distracts. One only needs to be shown; the telling is redundant and tedious.
A second problem of the style is that the reader is never excited by what happens in the story. A good writer of historical fiction should make events of the past seem as thrilling as they were when they first happened, even if the reader knows how the story ended. Alas, Twain seems incapable of making any of the many battle scenes exciting, which is a pity as there are so many of them. The main problem is that the reader is consistently told what the outcome of all the events is going to be well beforehand, and it is usually oft repeated. Joan is injured in one battle, and he lets us know about the wound-to-be three weeks ahead of time, repeating the news of its advent so often that by the time she is actually struck by the crossbow bolt the reader is simply relieved.

The book is not without merit, however. Twain meticulously researched the subject before writing the story, reading the official records of Joan’s several trials, as well as many accounts of her life from both the French and English perspectives. So while the style may be wanting, the story itself seems as faithful to the record as possible, and thus gives the reader a fascinating glimpse into this little part of history. More importantly, what emerges from the story is the giant character of Joan herself and the model of faith and hope that she was. This seems to be what fascinated Twain about the story; he saw in Joan a larger-than-life persona and a faith that he could not entirely understand, and he wanted to capture that in a story. In this he succeeds, and the story, for all its stylistic flaws, is worth reading if only because Joan, at least as she is portrayed by Twain, is a person worth understanding and admiring.

--Reviewed by William Christopher Long
W. C. Long is, at this VERY moment, finishing his PhD in Marine Biology at VIMs University in Virginia. When asked what the heck he really does with all his time, Chris wrote: "To be pedantic, I take the clams, and mark them (the shells have to be dry otherwise the sharpies won't work) and then transplant them into the murky black York River." In his leftover time, WC enjoys his adventerous daughter and her as-yet invisible sibling.

Miss Vanderbilt--Ahem--There's a Dog Paw in My Pudding

**see photo source below I wonder how many wives could resist rising up in unholy protest if husbands suddenly took to wrapping their heads up in wire and head rags, greasing their faces, tying up their own chins, putting on oiled mittens for the night.--Vanderbilt 513

Amy Vanderbilt is a good read. If you've run out of Jane Austen, consider a nightcap--settle into a good chapter of New Complete Book of Etiquette / The Guide to Gracious Living.

Ms. Vanderbilt is side-splitting (not generally an acceptable mannerism) for several reasons:

1. She often writes tongue-in-cheek (but only in private; tongues should not reside in cheeks in the public domain).

2. This historical edition of Etiquette, this interminable commentary on correctness, all 706 pages (excluding the index), is an archaic catalog of the many graces our modern society blithely deposited in a waste can. And this is hilarious, because I am me and you are you. We only remember manners like Amy's in some past great aunt or in the blue flickers of a British sitcom.

3. The minutia is astounding and worth remark. Jane Austen, yes, but here the minutia is broken down in instructional chapters. My manners have slipped, yes, but just how many disappeared? For example, I can choose from a list of topics, from pages 212-220, read, and master The Social Pleasantries:

"Gifts of Love" * A Guide to Tactful Conversation *
When to Use a First Name * If You Cannot Remember Names *
Personal Questions--What Are They? * Dangerous Topics of Conversation * How to Parry Direct Questions * That Word "Lady" * How about "Miss!"?

And so on. I wish I could delight you with the entire list.

And egad! I certainly encourage good manners. Suddenly, as when you look at your dirty house in spring sunlight, I have viewed our table manners and shuddered. "When we come back from vacation," I warned at dinner tonight, "We are lodging a frontal attack!"

I talk with my mouth full, keep my knife in my right hand at all times, and point with my silverware. I am up and down from the table like a wind-up toy. Martin leaves his napkin on the table for the duration, sprinkles crumbs like Hansel, and occasionally brings along reading material (not for group edification, mind you). Merry eats many no-no things with her fingers and groans about soup for the third time in a week. And Elspeth is our crowning glory. She kicks up her feet into her food, which resides temptingly on the bare tabletop. She casts all things to the ground while grunting and smiling. She stuffs vegetables into the unreachable crevices of her highchair.

Every woman should change for dinner, if only into a clean house dress. Dinner is the high point of the day, the forerunner--it is to be hoped--of a free evening. Every little girl should be clean and in fresh clothes, even if they are just clean pajamas and bathrobe for nursery supper, every night, so that the idea of changing for dinner is inculcated at the earliest possible time. . .[she goes on]. . .Fresh grooming for evening is one of the criteria of gentility. --Vanderbilt 183

Scene: Evening. Mother and children lying exhausted on couch. Husband Martin sets the table and cooks dinner. Wife requests a cup of tea but receives none. Dinner is ready. The lovely family enters grandly (no bagpipes) for this "forerunner of a free evening:" Elspeth is still in pajamas from the morning. Merry is stained by tomato soup (did we brush her hair this morning?) and her face is crusty. And I, that paragon of gentility, have already showered and am clad in my biggest, softest, smelliest red bathrobe. Hair freshly brushed? No. Make-up? Heck, no. Heels? Try slippers.

All right, we do all have head colds. But Amy Vanderbilt would point out that is no excuse.

And last night, I gave myself a sharp wake-up call when I tossed a cooked carrot across the table, head of to foot of, mind you.

My great aunt would have di-ed. Actually, it is probably a good thing she has, because our table manners have become worthy of a Berenstein Bear's Book, a TV reality show, a PBS special.

In fact, Fred Rogers surfaced earlier this week as Merry critiqued our table manners and then systematically listed new rules for a new, gentler family dinner.

One, one, one! One, we need to start putting bibs on Elspeth.

Two, we need to start putting napkins on the table.

[Merry goes on--skips four, and continues--]

and seven [two fingers thrust into air]--We need to start behaving at other people's houses,

and number eight, we need to start turning lights on,

and the last one, we need to start picking up Elspeth's food that she throws on the floor.

Then she paused to survey our shocked faces, since we had all suddenly grown pig snouts and were snuffling in main dishes like the parents in Spirited Away. Undisturbed (she had seen it before), she concluded, "The person who wrote Mr. Rogers is very talentive."

Gentle people are often acutely embarrassed by the table manners of those with whom they find themselves eating. A carefully bred wife may suffer much inner torture because her husband--always when manner seem very important--forgetfully leaves his spoon in his cup or absent-mindedly licks his fingers. --Vanderbilt 229

I think I can conduct myself with adequate propriety. My mother certainly pressed upon us all the importance of the placement of the knife, the proper usage of napkins, appropriate dinner time conversation (no bodily details, no fights, no descriptions of illnesses.) And so on. She even let me know what to do when a "foreign matter" entered my mouth, such as a disgusting piece of gristle or fat or bug (and we had those occasionally on our produce growing up in Kenya). But I forgot this one night on a date with Martin as I audibly expectorated a piece of sushi, back onto the artful arrangement of lettuce and beet shreds on my plate. I love sushi. But my taste buds told me something was amiss with this one. Martin, let me tell you, was utterly horrified. Really. In retrospect, I feel I should have brushed up on foreign matter, or foreign bodies as Miss Vanderbilt terms them:

Foreign bodies accidentally taken into the mouth with food--gravel, fish, stones, bird shot--are removed with thumb and forefinger. . .If a gnat gets into a beverage or some other unappetizing creature turns up in or on a diner's food, he fishes it out, unobserved. . .or leaves the drink or dish untouched, depending on the degree of odiousness of the intruder. A gnat or a tiny inchworm on lettuce shouldn't bother anyone, but most fastidious people draw the line at a fly or worse. --Vanderbilt 232

This leaves me in pleasant reflection as I imagine what "or worse" could be. A rat. A human finger. A chicken head. Teeth.

But I am clearly missing the point. Besides, the list above does not constitute polite conversation, in any company.

Forgive me.

GUESS BELOW IN 'COMMENTS': WHAT YEAR WAS THIS EDITION OF VANDERBILT'S NEW COMPLETE BOOK OF ETIQUETTE PUBLISHED? AND DON'T CHEAT. IT'S NOT GOOD MANNERS.

**For more on Amy Vanderbilt, and for the source of her photograph, go to: http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9074800/Amy-Vanderbilt (photo: 1956, Brown Brothers).

CONTRIBUTOR REVIEW: A SUITABLE BOY BY VIKRAM SETH

A Suitable Boy

by Vikram Seth
Harper Perennial Modern Classics, Reissued October 2005


Seth was, pre-Boy, perhaps best known for his novel Golden Gates, written entirely in sonnets. A Suitable Boy is quite different, though suffused with poetry, both in the rhymes one family spontaneously generates at the slightest provocation, and in the rhythm and elegance of Seth’s prose. However, this book is most like a Victorian novel in genre. It is HUGE. It has lots of pages. It has nearly as many characters and subplots, complications, major and minor life devastations, and an ending both as final and as inconclusive as anything George Eliot ever produced.

It is set in 1950’s India around the time of Partition. This is not a historical moment that I’m especially familiar with, and I think a bit of prior knowledge would have helped my comprehension of the larger story. The ostensible main plot, however, is fairly universal: Lata, the young heroine, has a devoted mother who is busily trying to marry her off to a suitable boy. Unfortunately, Lata meets and instantly falls in love with an extremely unsuitable boy—for starters, he’s Muslim and she’s Hindu. Enter a couple of other suitors AND everybody’s families AND dashes of religion and politics and other romances of the mostly unsuitable variety, and you’ve got a really long novel. Also a very good one.

Lata is a woman at the cusp of many things, the modern era being but one of them. So, for her, the choice of husband (inasmuch as it is her choice, which brings up another set of issues in the novel) carries a vast weight of symbolism. Will she choose the vulgar but traditional and up-and-coming shoe salesman her mother promotes? Or maintain a balance between tradition and individualism by marrying the witty and educated Hindu poet whom her mother doesn’t like but cannot forbid? Or will she go the truly modern route and marry her Muslim student for love? And by the end, which does the reader, seduced into the mindset(s) of the book’s world, want her to choose, and why?

If you do read this one, please do let me know your thoughts on it. Especially on the ending. You can email me at thelonglets@hotmail.com.


--Reviewed by Jordana who holds and juggles two MAs, two children (one unborn), one biohusband, and many good ideas. Jordana teaches English at a high school in coastal Virginia. See her blogsite carpematrem.wordpress.com.

CONTRIBUTOR REVIEW: What is the What by Dave Eggers

What is the What
Dave Eggers
McSweeneys, 2006



Dave Eggers’s “What is the What” follows the first-person account of a “lost boy” from Sudan, who lives in Atlanta at present. The book is nearly nonfiction—based on a real person of the same name—but in building the narrative Eggers played with facts enough to call it a novel; this twist of truth makes the 400+ pages an especially compelling read. Eggers does away with his typically profane style of writing to present Achak raw and gentle, full of faith that eventually gives way to doubt.

In Achak’s bare English, at once formal and poetic, the story of Sudan’s civil war and one man’s life will shatter you.

--Reviewed by Amy Scheer

Besides her day jobs as freelance writer and mother, Amy Scheer is a prolific editorial letter writer. Most recently, her letters have appeared in Newsweek and Time. Amy lives with her composer-husband and two jolly sons in Grand Rapids, MI. Favorite past-times include sipping East African tea.

CONTRIBUTOR REVIEW: ZOOM BY ISTVAN BANYAI

Zoom
by Istvan Banyai
Puffin Books, 1995

A wordless meditation on perspective, Istvan Banyai's 31 page picture-poetry
provokes this what-if: you and I are the farm hands on the plastic toy set
of a magazine cover shoot held in the hand of a boy sitting by the pool-side
of a advertisement of a cruise line on the side of the bus in a giant city
being viewed through the television screen in the middle of a desert on the
postage stamp of a letter sent to Mr. Taumata Tafia, Tribal Chief of the
Solomon Islands?

Whimsical fancy or existential angst? It's worth the look, either way.

--Reviewed by Rice Eater who lives for the moment in New Haven, CT. Rice Eater is finishing a PhD from Yale in Political Science and will be teaching at The New School in New York City next year. Rice Eater has two lovely little girls and a wonderful spouse. Rice Eater occasionally, but not often, eats noodles.

BOOK REVIEW: The Twelve Little Cakes by Dominika Dery

The Twelve Little Cakes
Dominika Dery
published 2004 by Riverhead Books

Charming Memoir, Fast Read

The Twelve Little Cakes is a charming memoir about little six year old Dominika's childhood in 1970s communist Czechoslovakia. The story's conflicts stem from the status of Dominkika's parents as poilitical dissidents: Father Jarda is always being fired from jobs by the Secret Police; Mother Janna's parents have disowned their family; little Dominika suffers the close scrutiny of her community.

I found the landscape and historical setting of the memoir fascinating, especially since Dery is only two years older than I. Dery's courageous family is sketched insightfully--her father Jarda is an especially lovable lunatic who at one point skis down a mountain with a St. Benard on his back.

Dery captures a child's perspective well in the precocious character of Dominika. The writing is light and often humorous even when the subject is dark; Jarda and Janna do not hide hard facts from their daughter.

Chapter Seven, "The Little Indian," about the quarantine ward at Bulovka Hospital, and Nine, "The Little Yolk Wreath," about Dominika's early religious experiences, are especially captivating.

Spend a few pleasant evenings with a tumbler of home-brewed gin and Dery's book. The writing itself is not particularly fine or tightly strung, but that suits the book's tone. This is Dery's first book in English, and it is worth reading.

--Reviewed by Kim Cockroft

BOOKS, REVIEW EM AND SHARE EM

HELP!

Friends: BOOKS! Some of them put me to sleep [Anthony Trollope's 'Barchester Towers']; some of them are easy and delightful [D. Dery's 'the Twelve Little Cakes'], and some I never finish even though they are fantastic [Salman Rushdie's 'Midnight's Children'--I do plan on finishing].

I am always on the look-out for a great book to read, and I know my friends are, too. I wish you all would jot off a couple lines on books you're reading. If you only have a couple lines to write, that's fantastic--the reviews do not need to be in-depth or professional. My father, for instance, reads books like most people eat popcorn, on long overseas flights. My sister reads books while she does just about everything except showering, and my friend Jeff always has a good tidbit to share with me, such as the jack ass and Robert Louis Stevenson, which is now on my list.

I just want to know what books you're reading, and whether I should read them, too.

If you've just read a book you'd like to review, e-mail it to me and I'll post it on this page. To access the book reviews, click on the BOOK REVIEWS label on the list of TOPICS at right. Then others will be able to share your book knowledge and recommendations.

If you want to include links to other reviews, please do so, and I'll post those as well.

Here's to books!