Right now

Right now... (an occasional meme, alternating from time to time with "The Current"):

Not believing: It's December!!  A little over three weeks to Christmas (and less than that until we travel to be with my family).... eeekkkk.....

Counting: The days until we head out to spend Christmas with my family. (And the days I have left to get my shopping done before then...!) 

Redecorating: Katie's niche at the cemetery. We visited there today and swapped the fall-themed decorations for Christmasy ones. 

Reading:  I just bought & started Jann Arden's new book, "Feeding My Mother," which appears to be part cookbook & partly the story of dealing with her mother's Alzheimer's disease. Jann is a national treasure here in  Canada -- a multi-talented singer/songwriter, writer & media personality (to name a few of the hats that she wears). I was lucky enough to hear her speak earlier this year, and adored her earlier memoir about growing up in rural Alberta, "Falling Backwards" (reviewed here).  

Margaret Atwood's "Alias Grace"  (and the TV miniseries adaptation) are still on my to read/view list. 

(Some) other recent purchases/additions to the TBR pile (!):  

• "The Great Halifax Explosion" by John U. Bacon. This happened 100 years ago this month, and -- prior to Hiroshima -- was the largest man-made explosion ever recorded. If you are ever in Halifax, the Marine Museum of the Atlantic is well worth seeing... they have a great exhibit about the explosion (a great Titanic exhibit too).     
• "Sticky Fingers" by Joe Hagan, about Jann Wenner & Rolling Stone magazine. 
• "The Vanity Fair Diaries: 1983-1992" by Tina Brown. 
• "It's All Relative:  Adventures Up & Down the World's Family Tree" by A.J. Jacobs. 

(Very much doubting: Whether I am going to meet my goal of reading 24 books in 2017... although I still have a few weeks to go, & I do usually manage to cram in a few books over the Christmas holidays...! I have finished 17 so far;  Goodreads helpfully informs that is 4 behind schedule...!)  

Watching:  Lots of figure skating on the weekends (Grand Prix events;  final coming up shortly). Still watching "Designated Survivor," although more out of habit than anything else (season 1 was much more exciting).  Looking forward to a binge session of season 2 of "The Crown" on Netflix shortly...!  ;)  

Eating:  Very carefully these days, after one too many bouts of gallstone discomfort lately. :p  Hoping to get through Younger Nephew's wedding this spring, and then will talk with my dr about the pros & cons of possible gallbladder removal surgery. 

Drinking: Chamomile tea or ginger ale, when my gallbladder starts acting up. 

Listening:  Christmas music! :)  We are hoping to put up & decorate our Christmas tree this weekend... our usual soundtrack for that activity includes: "A Charlie Brown Christmas" by Vince Guaraldi;  "A Merrie Christmas to You" by Blue Rodeo (beloved Canadian country-rock band) and "Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas" by Ella Fitzgerald. 

Wearing:  My new/recently purchased down winter jacket.... wonderfully lightweight yet still warm. (I kept my older, heavier jacket for really cold days, extended time outdoors & Christmas visits home.)  It looks really cute on me too. ;)  The (quite literal??) downside?  Little feathers. Everywhere. All over my clothes & the seat of the car where I sit. Yikes!!  (I've never had a down jacket before -- is this normal??) 

Buying (besides books, lol):  Christmas gifts!!  The Little Princesses will each be getting an outfit and a new pair of PJs from Gymboree (same designs, different colours), as well as two fondly remembered books from my own childhood: "Ramona the Pest" & "Beezus & Ramona" by Beverly Cleary. 

(Still) wondering:  If/when Aunt Flo will make her next appearance... it's now day 118 (and counting...!).  Technically, I am about 1/3 of the way to 365 days = officially being in menopause. 

Hoping: For a decent's night's sleep, one of these days... :p  

Enduring:  The endless roadwork on the highway that runs directly in front of our building. Traffic here is nuts enough as it is, and this just makes it worse (if such a thing is possible...!).  

Looking forward: To another royal wedding (as well as William & Kate's royal baby!) in the spring! :) 

Feeling:  Startled to realize that it's actually December, a little stressed by my to-do list, but happy the Christmas season is finally here!  

"Meow! My Groovy Life with Tiger Beat's Teen Idols" by Ann Moses

Googling articles about David Cassidy's sad passing this week, I stumbled on an article on CNN.com with a very familiar name in the byline -- albeit one I hadn't seen nor thought of in well over 40 years.

Ann Moses worked for Tiger Beat magazine (and eventually became its editor) in the late 1960s & early 1970s. In those pre-cable, pre-Internet years, monthly magazines like Tiger Beat, its sister publication Fave, and New York-based rival 16 Magazine, were the main connection that teen & pre-teen girls like me & my sister had to our idols.  Stuffed full of glossy photos and breezy stories with headlines like "Davy's Life Story!"and  "Shhh... 24 Hours with Dino, Desi & Billy," these publications fed us critical information such as David Cassidy's favourite colour and Bobby Sherman's thoughts on going steady. (Serious journalism this was not.)

"Meow!  My Groovy Life with Tiger Beat's Teen Idols" details Ann's years of hanging out with and writing about the biggest teen idols of the day, including Paul Revere & the Raiders, Dino Desi & Billy, the Monkees, Bobby Sherman (who wrote the foreword for the book), David Cassidy and the Osmonds. Still a teenager herself when she started working for Tiger Beat in 1966, Ann became a regular fixture on the sets of our favourite TV shows, such as "The Monkees," "The Partridge Family," and "Here Come the Brides," cooked chili for the Osmonds at her apartment, and was in the audience when Elvis made his famous comeback special in 1968. In her spare (!) time, she dabbled in somewhat more serious journalism with a regular column in England's New Musical Express (NME). 

In short, she was living our dream. :)  

Those were simpler, much more innocent times, when a handwritten note could get you backstage to interview the Dave Clark Five for your college newspaper, and when you could share a hotel bed with a member of Paul Revere and the Raiders & not even have him try to kiss you. As you might have suspected, though, most of the guys Ann wrote about were not quite as squeaky clean as they appeared to be in the pages of the magazine. Wives, live-in girlfriends and babies were kept hidden or very much in the background. David Cassidy's dog went by "Sheesh" in the pages of Tiger Beat, but his full name was actually "Hashish." "We were in the business of making dreams, not crushing them," Ann explains.  She smoked pot with members of the Raiders and later Peter Tork of the Monkees, lost her virginity to a former Mouseketeer, and had her heart broken by Maurice Gibb of the BeeGees -- on her 21st birthday, no less.   

The story ends with Ann's departure from Tiger Beat in 1972.  Even though she loved her job and was extremely well paid, she quit when she learned the (male) editor of Rona Barrett's Hollywood, another magazine from the same publisher, was making twice as much money as she was, even though (thanks to Ann's leadership) Tiger Beat was making far more money.  (The excuse, of course, being that he was married and had a family to support.)  Perhaps my one quibble about the book is that I'd have liked to learn more about her post-TB life. We do learn that she and her second husband adopted two sons, that she now lives in Arizona, and that she still gets together occasionally with Laudy Powell and Sharon Lee, two other TB-ers whose names I well remember. 

I downloaded this book from Amazon to the Kindle app on my phone last night and finished reading it this morning :) -- one of the speediest reads I've had in a long time. It's not a long nor complicated book, and it might not be quite as interesting to anyone who didn't live through those days, but it was a fun nostalgia trip for me, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. :) 

This was book #17 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 71% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am (still!) currently 4 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)

"Victoria & Abdul" by Shrabani Basu

I had other books in mind for my next read when dh & I went to the movies a couple of weekends ago to see "Victoria & Abdul," starring the wonderful Judi Dench as Queen Victoria, based on a true story about the monarch and her relationship with her Muslim Indian servant, Abdul Karim. We both enjoyed the movie, and I promptly bought the book it was based on ("Victoria & Abdul" by Shrabani Basu) the next time we visited our local bookstore, and dove right into it.

In 1887, celebrating her Golden Jubilee, Queen Victoria was proud & delighted by the warm reception she received from her people -- but she was also filled with nostalgia, loneliness & grief that so many of her loved ones had not lived to share this milestone with her -- including her beloved husband, Albert, and her devoted Scottish servant, John Brown.

Into her life stepped Abdul Karim, one of several Indian servants and soldiers brought to England for the Jubilee year as a "gift" from India.  Victoria was fascinated by all things Indian, and an unusual friendship developed between the two. Within weeks, he became her "Munshi" (teacher), helping her learn to speak & write in Urdu. Over time, his influence grew, and he became her chief secretary/advisor on all matters related to India.

Victoria proved to be much more enlightened, accepting of and interested in India, its people and culture than other members of her family and court, who (typical of most Britons of the era) shunned Karim socially and deeply resented his position and influence.

The movie seems to take place over just a few years time, but Karim actually spent more than 13 years in England, from 1887 until the Queen's death in January 1901.  He was the last person to see her body before the coffin was sealed, and among the few mourners present for her burial (as she had instructed). Soon afterward, however, members of the Royal Family and several guards entered his cottage, confiscated and burned all the letters he had received from the Queen, and ordered him (and the Queen's other Indian servants) to return to India immediately.  (I thought this part of the movie was perhaps a Hollywood embellishment. Sadly, it was not. And, in fact, British government envoys visited Karim's family in India not just once but TWICE after his death in 1909, too, demanding the return of any further correspondence from the Queen.)  The Queen's youngest daughter, Princess Beatrice, removed all references to Karim from her mother's diaries (not realizing that her mother also wrote about Karim in her Urdu lesson notebooks...! which sat untouched for decades in the royal archives).  This story in Vanity Fair is a good summary of this unusual story and how it was rediscovered by Basu 100+ years later.

I will admit I thought the last part of the book dragged a bit as the courtiers messaged each other and the Queen about their displeasure over the Munshi, and conspired to get rid of him. Overall, though, I thought this was a fascinating & well researched story. Kudos to Basu for uncovering this hidden gem of history!

ALI note:  In both the book & the movie, Victoria expresses her concern about the Munshi's lack of children.  Having had nine children herself (!), she was full of advice for the couple, and had them both examined by her personal doctor.  Karim & his wife never did have any children. The few remaining keepsakes from Karim's time with the Queen which survived the palace purge (and later the 1947 partition of India) are now in the possession of his nephew's family.

This was book #16 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 67% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 4 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)

"Five Windows" by D.E. Stevenson

The latest selection under discussion by my Yahoo book club devoted to fans of Scottish author D.E. Stevenson is "Five Windows," first published in 1953.  I managed to snag a copy of a recent reprint at a somewhat reasonable price, even with US/Canadian dollar exchange rates & shipping factored in. (More & more of Stevenson's books are being reprinted or made available in e-reader versions, but there are still many that are out of print -- and they can be hot -- and expensive -- commodities on the resale market.)

Like Stevenson's other books, "Five Windows" is the literary equivalent of comfort food, a hot cup of tea on a cozy couch on a chilly autumn/winter day.  Unlike some of her other books that I've read, this one is written in the first person, and in a male voice, no less. We follow our hero, minister's son David Kirke, from his 9th birthday in pre-WWII Scotland to school in Edinburgh and on to young adulthood in early 1950s London.  The "Five Windows" of the title are a framing device that mark the passage of time, representing the windows of David's rooms in the different places he lives as he grows up. The novel touches on themes of home, family, friendship, writing & publishing, and learning to assert yourself.

I wouldn't say this is my favourite of Stevenson's novels that I've read to date -- but like her other books, it's a pleasant way to spend a few hours.

This was book #15 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 63% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 3 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)

"The House by the Lake" by Thomas Harding

My family has never owned a cottage (or cabin, or camp, or summer house, or whatever you want to call it) -- but I have spent time at cottages belonging to friends over the years, and I understand their allure and the emotional power they can hold. Here in Ontario, "the cottage" holds a sacred place in the lives of many families, passed down from one generation to the next. On summer Friday afternoons, the highways are jammed with people heading north (and east) to "cottage country" (and then back to the city again on Sunday night). (These days, of course, some cottages are as big as houses, built to operate year-round, with all the modern amenities -- and just as expensive as a "regular" house, too... but I digress...!)

I love stories about old houses and family history, and about how people lived through the First and Second World Wars. So I was predisposed to enjoy "The House by the Lake: One House, Five Families, and a Hundred Years of German History" by Thomas Harding. I first saw it in hardcover in the bookstore last summer, but resisted temptation until the paperback was published this July.

As the subtitle would suggest, the book covers (more than) a century of German history.  But it's so much more than a recitation of historical facts. This is not just the story of a country, but also the story of a house on a lake (Gross Glienicke Lake) near Berlin, and the families who lived there -- and loved it,

• The property was originally owned by a family called von Wollank, who purchased it as part of an entire estate in 1890, and then leased lakefront lots for development as a way to make money in the lean years of the 1920s.   
• While the von Wollanks continued to own the land, the lake house of the story was originally built in 1927 and owned by Alfred Alexander, a prominent Jewish doctor. His family enjoyed most weekends and summers at the lake house, swimming, boating, playing tennis and tending to their garden, until the growing restrictions on Jews under Adolf Hitler forced them to flee to England in 1936.  
• Eight months later, in 1937, the Alexanders' lawyer leased the lake house to Will Meisel, a prominent composer and music publisher, and his wife, Eliza Illiard, a music-hall singer and film actress. By 1940, the Alexanders' property had been seized by the Third Reich, which continued to own the land, but sold the lake house at a fraction of its true worth to the Meisels. 
• In 1943, the Meisels went to Austria to avoid Will's conscription, leaving the house in the care of his business associate, Hans Hartmann, and his Jewish wife, Ottilie Schwartzkopf. They too left the house at the end of the war, when Soviet troops began arriving in the area and terrorizing the villagers. 
• The Meisels returned to West Berlin in the fall of 1946, and purchased the land the lake house sat on from the village of Gross Glienicke in 1947 -- but bad roads, petrol shortages, and the numerous British and Soviet checkpoints made it difficult to access the property. In 1948, the Soviets erected a blockade around West Berlin, and in 1949, Germany was formally divided. In May 1952, the border was closed between the two Germanys.  
• Unable to visit the lake house after the border closed, Will Meisel asked a local widow and mother of two, Ella Fuhrmann, if she would like to stay there as caretaker.  Although the house had not been insulated against the winter cold, the Fuhrmanns lived there for the next six years. It soon became clear the Meisels would not be returning.  
• In 1958, the local council decided that another family should share the lake house with the Fuhrmanns -- Wolfgang and Irene Kuhne and their two children. In August 1961, construction began on the Berlin Wall -- directly behind the lake house, cutting off the families' view of and access to the lake. The Furhmanns moved out in February 1965, leaving the Kuhnes as the sole tenants for the next 30+ years. After the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989, Wolfgang and his step-grandson Roland hacked a hole in the wall behind the lake house, and stepped through to see the lake for the first time in more than 25 years. (The rest of the local wall was dismantled in the summer of 1991.)  

In 1993, Elsie Alexander Harding, whose family had built the lake house, brought several of her grandchildren -- including the author -- to see her "soul place" for the first time since she left Germany in 1936. Wolfgang Kuhne was still living there, but died in 1999. Roland continued to live -- and party -- in the house with some of his friends, until 2003, when he was evicted by the City of Potsdam, which planned to redevelop the site.

When Thomas Harding returned to Gross Glienicke in 2013, 20 years after his first visit, he found the house still standing but abandoned, derelict and about to be torn down. Could it be saved? Should it be saved?

I won't give any more away -- but I thoroughly enjoyed this well researched & written book -- its unique perspective on the events of the past 100+ years, on life behind the Iron Curtain, and the personal stories of the families who lived in the house -- and I was a little sad to see it end. Even the notes section is worth reading for the additional details it contains, as well as the closing acknowledgements, where we find out what has happened to some of the people in the story.

For more information on the book, the house and its future, visit AlexanderHaus.org .

*** *** ***

Reading Harding's author profile on Goodreads, I learned he was the author of several other books, including one called "Kadian Journal." A title with the word "journal" in it almost always piques my curiosity, and I clicked over to find out more about the book. Imagine my surprise when I read:

In July 2012 Thomas Harding's fourteen-year-old son Kadian was killed in a bicycle accident. Shortly afterwards Thomas began to write. This book is the result. 

Beginning on the day of Kadian's death, and continuing to the year anniversary, and beyond, Kadian Journal is a record of grief in its rawest form, and of a mind in shock and questioning a strange new reality. Interspersed within the journal are fragments of memory: jewel-bright everyday moments that slowly combine to form a biography of a lost son, and a lost life. 

It is an extraordinary document, and several things at once: a lucid, raw, and startlingly brave book: a powerful and moving account of a father's grief, and a beautiful tribute to an exceptional son. 

Another book to add to my wish list (and from there to my immense to-be-read pile...!)!

*** *** ***

Another book by Harding: "Hanns and Rudolf," about how Hanns Alexander, a German Jew in the British Army, hunted down Rudolf Hoess, the Kommandant of Auschwitz, after the war, and brought him to justice. Hanns Alexander was Harding's great-uncle, the younger brother of his grandmother Elsie. Hanns briefly visited the lake house in 1945 as the war was ending, the only member of the family to see it between 1936, when the family left for England, and 1993, when Elsie returned with her grandchildren.

This was book #14 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 58% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 2 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)

"Isaac's Storm" by Erik Larson

As Texas battened down its hatches in anticipation of Hurricane/Tropical Storm Harvey this weekend, I was reminded of a relevant book that's long been sitting in my "to be read" pile. The time seemed right to finally read "Isaac's Storm: A Man, a Time, and the Deadliest Hurricane in History" by Erik Larson, author of such other titles as "The Devil in the White City," "Dead Wake" and "In the Garden of Beasts" (all also in my TBR pile...!).  

"Isaac's Storm" tells the story of the hurricane that devastated Galveston, Texas, on September 8, 1900, killing an estimated 6,000 people. It's still considered the deadliest hurricane in American history.  The story is told through the eyes and experiences of some of the survivors -- in particular, Isaac Monroe Cline, head meteorologist for the fledgling U.S.Weather Bureau's Galveston office.

Weather forecasting was (and still is, to some extent) a highly inexact science, and of course, the meteorologists of Isaac's day did not enjoy the benefits we now take for granted.  Beyond the lack of modern technology and knowledge about how hurricanes are formed and behave, a number of other factors contributed to the disaster.

For example, the Weather Bureau was engaged in an ongoing feud with its colonial counterparts in Cuba, and thus ignored critical information from the Cubans that might have ultimately saved lives in Texas. (Many people -- including Isaac Cline, who had infinite faith and pride in his own understanding of the weather -- believed that no storm could do serious damage to Galveston.)  Use of the words "hurricane" and "tornado" were discouraged by the bureau (they might frighten people unnecessarily), and only headquarters in Washington was allowed to issue an official storm warning. The bureau's September 8 forecast for Galveston was "fair;  fresh, possibly brisk, northerly winds."  As a result, the storm and its severity came as a complete surprise for the vast majority of Galveston's citizens.  Cline later claimed he had personally saved up to 6,000 lives by warning the crowds of people watching the unusual wave activity on the beach to seek shelter -- although there is no corroborating evidence of this.

I came prepared to like this book, and I plowed through its 273 pages of text (plus notes, bibliography & index) in just three days (started on Friday, finished on Sunday).  I've long enjoyed popular history, and have been fascinated with disaster/survival stories since I was a kid -- and Larson's account of the storm and its aftermath makes for a gripping read. While I've never been through a hurricane (and have no desire to encounter one...!), growing up on the Canadian Prairies means I have more than a passing acquaintance with extreme weather (tornados, hailstorms, ice storms, blizzards...). Moreover, I was born on the banks of the Red River of the North, where both sides of my family have lived (on both sides of the U.S./Canada border) since the late 1800s and endured one devastating flood after another. (The riverside house that was my first home no longer exists -- it was torn down after the flood of 1966 to accommodate the construction of a ring dike that has saved the town many times in the years since then.)
 
I gave the book four out of five stars on Goodreads -- but would really rate it about 3.5 (any Goodreads users know how to assign half-star ratings??). I'd give it a half-star less for several reasons:

• First, while the story of the storm itself kept me turning pages, wading through the earlier material that set the scene & introduced the main characters was not quite as exciting. 
• Second, I was slightly annoyed that there were several references made to photos of various characters and places (not to mention the aftermath of the storm) -- but aside from the cover photo of Isaac Cline in his later years, there are no photos included in the book. I suppose there were copyright issues, etc., that prevented their use, but nevertheless, it was disappointing. (I've had a look at some of the photos available online, and they are dramatic.) 
• Finally, Larson admits that, due to the lack of primary documents available -- everything Isaac owned up to 1900, including letters, photos and manuscripts, was destroyed in the hurricane -- he used "detective work and deduction" to flesh out the story of what Isaac Cline might have seen, heard, smelled and experienced.  For example, in the notes, we find items such as these: 

• 7.  On Sundays: "Isaac never actually says he and his family visited Murdoch's and the Pagoda [bath houses] on Sundays, but given their proximity to his house, the communal character of the time -- and the absence of television -- it is all but certain that the Clines did so."  (The Beach: September 8, 1900) 
• 13. On Friday, September 7, Isaac had read:  "In no document does Isaac Cline actually say he read the census report in the Galveston News, but it was the biggest local news story of the day. Isaac most certainly read it. (ditto above) 
• 247. Isaac could not help it: Isaac never directly states that he should have taken his family to the Levy Building early on, but how could any man in a similar position avoid such thoughts? (Galveston: "Not Dead") 

Such "detective work and deduction" does make for a better story -- but these passages are more speculation than actual historic fact.  

Despite these reservations, I enjoyed "Isaac's Storm" and thought it was a good read overall.  It's also a cautionary tale. While weather forecasting is still an inexact science, and we roll our eyes when predictions of severe weather ("Snowmaggedon!!") don't pan out, stories such as "Isaac's Storm" remind us of why it's unwise to underestimate or ignore Mother Nature. My own philosophy is that it's better to be safe than sorry.  Take weather warnings seriously, be prepared and stay safe!  :)  

This was book #13 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 54% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 2 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)

"Dark Money" by Jane Mayer

After reading "All the President's Men," I was still feeling in a political mood, so I decided to tackle a book that's been in my TBR (to be read) pile for a while now:  "Dark Money: The Hidden History of the Billionaires Behind the Rise of the Radical Right" by Jane Mayer.

As I said in an earlier post, while I was still reading the book:

"it is extremely well-researched and well-written. It's also infuriating, terrifying and downright depressing. But don't let that deter you from reading it. This is a book that NEEDS to be read. RIGHT NOW."   

The paperback version I was reading includes a new preface that discusses the outcome of the 2016 U.S. election. Despite Donald Trump's populist schtick and lone wolf/beholden-to-nobody appeal, the overall results were a huge victory for the multi-billionaires who have been pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into influencing the last several elections (at all levels of government), as well as the policies those governments pursue -- policies which, of course, benefit them and their interests.

Mayer delves into the history of the key players behind the "dark money" that's been pouring into the system: the Koch brothers, the DeVos family (yet, THAT DeVos family!), the Bradleys, Richard Mellon Scaife, John Olin, Art Pope and others. She shows in detail how they have spent the past 30+ years pooling their money to systematically build an interlocking network of think tanks, academic institutions, media groups, courthouses and government allies that has fundamentally altered the American political system, overshadowed the official Republican Party, and undermined American democracy.

In particular, she shows how these billionaires have taken advantage of tax loopholes to fund their pet causes through donations to their own private foundations, and to nonprofit organizations that -- on the surface -- appear to be populist and grassroots-driven, with names such as Americans for Prosperity, Citizens for a Sound Economy and Center for Patients' Rights. In reality, most of these groups were manufactured and funded by corporate interests -- "astroturf" organizations, as opposed to truly organic grassroots movements.

"Astroturf" organizations exploded after the election of Barack Obama, and even more so with the ruling on the Citizens United case by the Supreme Court, which removed limits on corporate campaign funding and made it much easier for donations to be made anonymously. As a result, it has become increasingly difficult to identify where the hundreds of million of dollars flowing through the system are coming from.

There are dozens of revealing anecdotes (sample quote from Charles Koch: "I just want my fair share -- which is all of it"), including some unsettling personal stories from people who have challenged the billionaires -- or just gotten in their way. This includes Mayer herself. After The New Yorker published a story she wrote about the Kochs, she discovered a private investigator had been poking into her personal life. When they found nothing unsavoury there, Mayer was accused of plagiarism (charges that she quickly disproved, with full support from the writers she was accused of plagiarizing).

There is so, so much more to be said about this book, but I hardly know where to begin.

I consider myself fairly well read & informed about politics, in the United States as well as Canada. I had heard about many of these people before. I knew they were using their wealth and influence to try to sway public opinion and votes toward the causes they favoured.

But I didn't know the half of it. Reading this book is an eye-opener. The scope and impact of what the Kochs and their allies have achieved over the past few decades is truly stunning. And frightening.

To summarize:  this is a very important book, and the kind of book that we (a) need more of, and (b) need to read, NOW.

It may already be too late. (I hope not.)

This was book #12 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 50% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 3 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)  

#MicroblogMondays: Vacation odds & ends

• Writing to you this week from my parents' home, where we're spending some time (as we usually do during the summer).  
• It's been horribly hot & humid all week here. (Yesterday was 32C, 40C humidex -- that's about 90F & 104F, for those of you south of the border. :p )  I'm trying not to complain too much, especially since it's been raining constantly back home. But thank goddess for air conditioning...! (Although my parents can never agree on when/whether it should be turned on, and to what temperature...!)  
• My sister was here on her vacation this past week. I've often said we don't have a "Hallmark" sort of relationship. But she's mellowed a lot in recent years -- and damn, she can make me laugh sometimes... 
• My mother has not driven me nuts. (Yet.) (I'll just bite my cybertongue and leave that one at that...!) 
• (Okay, just one...!)  My mother is prone to moaning that "we have no little kids in this family!" Usually more at Christmastime than summertime -- and she did mean the entire extended family, including my cousins & their kids, who are mostly grown up now -- but she said that more than once this past week. :p  I try to ignore her and not feel too guilty. Even if Katie were here, she would hardly qualify as "little" any more...!  
• We do have (most fortunately!) the Little Princesses (Parents' Neighbours Granddaughters, ages 5 & 2), who are back from "Summer Paradise" (their grandparents' cottage) & popping by every other day or so to enchant (& exhaust) us. They are both growing up very quickly! 
• Finished one book & about halfway through another -- "Dark Money" by Jane Mayer. Full review to come when I'm done -- but let me say right now that it is extremely well-researched and well-written. It's also infuriating, terrifying and downright depressing. But don't let that deter you from reading it. This is a book that NEEDS to be read. RIGHT NOW.   

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.  

"All the President's Men" by Bob Woodward & Carl Bernstein

I was 11 years old in the summer of 1972 (45 years ago -- yikes!!), when five men wearing suits and carrying photographic and surveillance equipment were arrested after breaking into the Democratic Party National Headquarters in the Watergate Hotel in Washington, D.C. Gradually, over the next two years, the name "Watergate" became a household word, as the story of the break-in, who had authorized it and why unravelled on the nightly news and in Congressional hearings.

Being just 11-13 years old, I didn't pay a lot of attention -- I was mostly annoyed by the whole thing, because the hearings invariably cancelled out my favourite daytime television shows during the summers of 1973 & 1974. (Before Watergate, it was the Apollo space missions to the moon that took over the TV screens -- ho hum. If I'd known then that the Apollo 17 mission of December 1972 was going to be the last one, I might have paid more attention.)

It all climaxed on the night of August 8, 1974, when President Richard "I am not a crook" Nixon announced his resignation, in the face of almost certain impeachment. I was 13 years old by then, and we were all at my grandmother's tiny house in northern Minnesota, gathered in the living room around the TV set (which I think was still a black & white set, and pulled in about 5 or 6 channels with the help of a rotary antenna -- NBC, ABC & PBS, sometimes CBS (depending on the weather, lol), and CBC & CTV from across the Canadian border.)(And the French-language CBC channel, which we never counted.)  I remember being glad to be rid of Nixon (and of Watergate) -- I never liked him -- but the sober faces of the adults in the room brought home the seriousness of the situation, and even then, I realized that I was witnessing history in the making. The next day, we left on a road trip to visit my uncle in Minneapolis, and everywhere we stopped along the way, the newspapers had huge headlines, the likes of which I had maybe only ever seen once before (when the astronauts landed on the moon), "President resigns."  I still have a copy, somewhere in the depths of my parents' basement.

Despite all the media coverage, I didn't really know or understand much about the details of Watergate or how it had led to the president's resignation until a few years later, the spring/summer of 1976. I was now 15, my sister & I went to see a new movie, "All the President's Men," starring Dustin Hoffman & our favourite movie idol of the day, Robert Redford, as Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward, the two Washington Post reporters whose stories helped crack the case and won a Pulitzer Prize.

(My sister & I had first seen Redford in "The Sting" with our cousins in Minneapolis a few summers earlier, and fallen madly in love with him -- even though he's older than our father...! (ALI note: in recent years, I learned that Redford's first child, a son named Scott, died of SIDS when he was 10 weeks old in 1959.)  A year or so later, our mother took us to see him in "The Way We Were" with Barbra Streisand, and to the drive-in, ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, so that we could see "The Great Gatsby." (Although we had to suffer through "The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad," the first of a double-header bill, before we got to Gatsby.)  Such was the power of Robert Redford in his prime...!)  

We both LOVED the movie -- NOW all that Watergate stuff we'd lived with for so long was starting to make sense!  (Plus -- Robert Redford.)  There was still a lot we didn't quite "get," though -- because one of our school friends came over & sat with us and talked incessantly throughout the entire movie. :p  So we went back to see it again the next night, to catch the parts we'd missed. ;) Shortly after that, I bought and devoured the paperback version of the 1974 book by Woodward & Bernstein that the movie had been based on (with a photo of Redford & Hoffman on the cover).  I found it just as riveting as the movie had been, and a lot easier to follow, since I could digest the information at my own pace and flip back to the "Cast of Characters" at the front of the book to keep all the names & titles straight. There was a lot of information that hadn't been in the movie, too.

*** *** ***

I've read "All the President's Men" at least once or twice in the years since I first picked it up (as well as other books written by the two, together and separately, including "The Final Days" and "The Bretheren")(and seen the movie many times too) -- but not in many years.  And with the recent events unfolding in Washington, and frequent appearances by Woodward & Bernstein on TV news shows, I decided it was timely to re-read the book again.

Even though I've read the book before -- even though the story is a lot more familiar to me than the first time around -- I still found myself hooked, right from the opening pages. (It took me more than a week to get through "Tribe," which was only 130 or so pages long... I devoured "All the President's Men," a much longer book, in just under a week.)  It's still a gripping read -- and entirely relevant to the present day.

Personal disclaimer: I wanted to be a writer from a young age.  I was thinking "books,"  but it wasn't until around the time I was in junior high that I realized most authors of books didn't make very much money at it. That's when I started thinking of journalism as a career. My family always received a daily newspaper, and I read it (or at least parts of it) almost from the time I learned to read. (The idea of a career in "corporate communications" wasn't even on my radar until I was in journalism school, and I don't think we even called it that back then. "Public relations," maybe.)

So I don't think it was Woodward & Bernstein who inspired me to go to journalism school -- I'm pretty sure I was already thinking along those lines -- but just about anyone who entered the field in the late 1970s & 80s was certainly inspired by their example and looked to them as the gold standard. They were and still are rock stars to me, and I still get a huge kick out of seeing them on TV, individually or (especially) together. When Woodward &/or Bernstein talk about current events, how they compare to Watergate (or not), and why we should pay attention -- I think we should pay attention. These guys know whereof they speak.

Reading the book again, now, reminded me that a lot has changed since 1972. For example:

• the reporters' calls were sometimes made at payphones and routed through switchboard operators -- no cellphones back then...!, 
• they wrote their stories on typewriters and made edits with pencils vs on screens with word processing software,
• their stories were published (& read) in a physical newspaper, not online,
• television news consisted mostly of a half-hour evening newscast on one of the three networks -- no Internet, no cable TV, no multichannel universe, no CNN, 
• Woodward & Bernstein spent spending an entire afternoon sorting through box after box of request slips at the Library of Congress (which made for a memorable scene when translated to the movie screen) -- something that no doubt could be done in about five seconds on a computer today

(to name a few things).

Some of the language has changed (one of the Watergate burglars is said to have a "retarded" daughter). And although the Post's publisher was a woman (Katharine Graham -- her memoir, Personal History, is also an excellent read, by the way),  and a female bookkeeper at the Committee to Re-elect the President proves to be a critical source, the vast majority of the main players in the story are (as the title of the book would suggest) MEN -- there were certainly nowhere near as many women in the newsroom or in government and political jobs, 45 years ago.

But while technology has made reporters' jobs easier in many respects, the basics of journalism -- cultivating sources, calling and talking to people (many, many people), asking questions and more questions (and asking them again), taking careful notes & keeping files, researching through piles of dusty books and press clippings (not everything you need is available on the Internet), checking your facts and checking them again, confirming what one person tells you with multiple other sources before publishing your story -- that remains the same. (Another great movie in a more modern setting about reporters unravelling an important story about the abuse of power (by the Catholic church) is "Spotlight,"  which deservedly won the Oscar for Best Picture a couple of years ago.)

And human nature, certainly, remains the same too.

While Woodward & Bernstein were eventually recognized as heroes and inspired an entire generation of journalists, their tactics were sometimes questionable, they didn't always get it right (at one point, they thought they were headed for jail), and they encountered formidable obstacles and opposition along the way.  Early on, they write about how the story was barely mentioned outside of the Washington & New York papers, half the country had (at that point) never heard of or cared about Watergate, and government spokespeople derided the Post for chasing a story that just wasn't there....  I found myself thinking, hmmm, why does this sound familiar...?? (This happened more than once as I read. The White House's disdain for the press, the obsession with leaks -- all familiar territory...!)

Nevertheless -- aided by anonymous sources such as the now-infamous "Deep Throat" -- they continued to ask questions and pursue the story, gradually putting the pieces together into a coherent picture of what went on behind the scenes at the White House and the Committee to Re-elect the President, ultimately leading to the downfall of the president and his men.

If you ever wanted to learn more about Watergate and/or about how journalists really do their jobs, this book is an excellent choice -- a classic.  And if you wanted to understand why so many people are talking about Watergate again lately in the context of current events, read the book. The parallels are eerie and unmistakeable.

This was book #11 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 46% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am currently 2 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)  

"Tribe" by Sebastian Junger

"Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging" is an expanded version of an article that Sebastian Junger wrote for Vanity Fair -- a short & well-spaced 136 pages (plus source notes).

In this case, less is definitely more: there's a lot packed into this slim volume. It's well written and thought provoking -- a fascinating look at how humans have banded together over time to survive -- and how modern life works against our deep-seated need to belong, and:

"why -- for many people -- war feels better than peace and hardship can turn out to be a great blessing and disasters are sometimes remembered more fondly than weddings or tropical vacations." (p. xxvi)  

Most the reviews I've read focus on what "Tribe" has to say about the military and PTSD -- the main subject of Junger's original article, and something he has often written about before. But we also learn about American Indian tribal life (and its appeal to American frontier settlers), infant sleeping practices, the London Blitz of the Second World War, the Springhill (Nova Scotia) mining disaster of 1958, mass shootings, and so much more.

Near the end of the book, Junger also makes some timely observations about the deep divisions in modern American society. "People who speak with contempt for one another will probably not remain united for long," he says. "The most alarming rhetoric comes out of the dispute between liberals and conservatives, and it’s a dangerous waste of time because they’re both right." (p. 126)

"If you want to make a society work, then you don’t keep underscoring the places where you’re different -- you underscore your shared humanity,” Rachel Yehuda of Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City tells him. (p. 127)

Makes sense to me...

*** *** ***

One reason I was interested in reading this book was that both Pamela & Lisa have referred to it in different forums where I follow them. In the ALI community, we often talk about the importance of"finding our tribe" and the support we give and receive to & from each other -- and I was curious to see how Junger's concept of "Tribe" would relate to the ALI world.  

Junger doesn't address infertility issues here, but it's certainly possibly to extract some lessons/meaning for our own situations from this book. One of its main messages is that people will bond together in times of adversity and when dealing with a common adversary -- and I think that's one of the driving forces behind the growth of online communities such as ours. I wouldn't say the fertile world is an "adversary," of course -- but when you're dealing with infertility & pregnancy loss, there's certainly a feeling of alienation and "other-ness" that the fortunate fertile probably don't realize even exists, let alone respond to in an adequate or satisfying way. That's why we feel such a sense of relief and belonging when we discover others -- online or "in real life" -- who have shared a similar experience, and why we consider them our "tribe."   

Here's another quote from the book that spoke to me:  

“...human beings need three basic things in order to be content: they need to feel competent at what they do; they need to feel authentic in their lives; and they need to feel connected to others.” (p. xxx) 

Hmmm -- let's see. When you can't get or stay pregnant -- which the majority of women do with ease (and often without giving the subject much thought), and which some consider the main purpose of a woman's existence -- you feel anything BUT competent. We are often forced to hide our authentic selves and feelings as we struggle through infertility & loss.  (Infertility & loss, of course, change who we are in profound ways, leaving us to try to figure out who we are now, and who we're going to be, if we're not going to be parents.)  And infertility and loss, and this struggle to find and maintain our authentic selves in the face of adversity, creates barriers between those of us who suffer and those who don't.  At a time when we badly need support from others, we find them shying away from the sadness and messiness of our situations and the rawness of our emotions, and the "bad luck" we represent. No wonder we have such difficulty finding "contentment"!   

“Humans don’t mind hardship, in fact they thrive on it; what they mind is not feeling necessary. Modern society has perfected the art of making people not feel necessary. It's time for that to end.”  (p. xxvi) 

Who feels less necessary in a society fixated on families, children and baby bumps than a childless woman? 

And yes, it's time for that to end. 

This was book #10 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 42% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  I am 3 books behind schedule to meet my goal. :p  ;)  

"The Unmade Bed" by Stephen Marche

I picked up "The Unmade Bed: The Messy Truth About Men and Women in the 21st Century" by Stephen Marche because of (a) the intriguing cover (both text & design) an (b) the intriguing prospect of getting a glimpse of what we in blogland have called "the elusive male perspective" on the rapidly evolving state of male-female relationships in the early 21st century.

As promised on the cover, Marche's wife, Sarah Fulford, editor of Toronto Life magazine, adds a running (and often tart) commentary in the footnotes, expanding on her husband's observations and sometimes offering an alternative opinon or version of events as he described them. ;)  ("The best thing about Stephen Marche’s new book on gender politics is his wife," says Maureen O'Connor in The Cut. "The second best thing is that he knows it.")  I found myself wishing there had been more of her comments included. A "he said, she said" book with alternating viewpoints might have been a more interesting way to tackle this subject.

It's not a long book, a little over 200 well spaced pages of text in a readably large font, plus footnotes -- and yet it took me a while to wade through  because the prose in some parts got pretty dense. As Elizabeth Renzetti summarizes in her Globe & Mail review of the book (with footnotes from her spouse, Doug Saunders!): 

Marche’s central thesis, told through eight linked essays, is that men and women have come to an impasse of sorts, where women’s power is increasing, but not quickly enough, and men’s power is crumbling, and not in ways they fully understand or like. The project for men, as they suffer through crises of loneliness, undereducation and shifting power dynamics, is “how to be a proud man without being an asshole about it.”

The book starts off with a discussion of mansplaining (Marche makes the wry observation that he's mansplaining about mansplaining) and the idea that men and women cannot understand each other. Further topics discussed include what Marche called "the hollow patriarchy," modern fatherhood, gender differences and hyper-masculinity, personal politics/political correctness & outrage, and the differences in raising boys vs girls. And then there's a chapter on porn that actually made my eyes glaze over (I'm still not entirely sure what point he was trying to make). The final chapter takes on that most contentious of subjects: who does the housework. (And if you need a hint as to what Marche thinks about it all, the title of the chapter is "The Case for Living in Filth.")

(As an aside, re: the book's title:  I remember Mel once asked her readers if they made the bed every day. I was absolutely dumbfounded by how many people said they didn't. To me, a room with an unmade bed looks messy... and there is nothing nicer than climbing into a bed that's been made up, versus wrinkled, rumpled up sheets & blankets. It just feels so much nicer. Even better when the sheets have been freshly laundered...!)(Of course, I was brought up by a woman who went to nursing school and insisted our beds be made daily before we went to school in the morning -- WITH hospital corners, lol.)(Fortunately for me, dh is equally in favour of making the bed daily -- albeit considerably less enthusiastic about hospital corners, lol.)

There were some thought-provoking points made throughout the book, and I marked a couple of passages with post-it notes. From a childless-not-by-choice perspective, I was intrigued by Marche's theory that

The prevalence of the absent father distorts, in turn the perception of mothers. As fathers become symbolically vital  but physically absent, mothers are exalted beyond all reason and degraded beyond all sense:  the exaltation begins early, raising mothers to vertiginous, nauseating heights... (pp. 57-58) (emphasis mine)      

Final verdict: It was interesting in parts, dragged in others. The addition of Fulford's side commentary was an interesting touch, but I would have liked more of it. I gave it three out of five stars on Goodreads.

This was book #9 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 38% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.  Apparently that makes me 2 books behind schedule. :p  ;)  

"Killers of the Flower Moon" by David Grann

Around the same time that I finished David Grann's "The Lost City of Z" a few months ago (my review here), I heard the author had a new book coming out soon. I made a mental note to watch for it and bought it on sale shortly after its release last month. :)

I'm glad I did.  Entertainment Weekly has called it "the best book of the year so far," (and apparently a movie is already in the works). It's a gripping read, one that kept me up late several nights in a row, promising myself that I would read "just one more chapter..." before turning out the lights... ;)

"Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI" tackles a forgotten -- and extraordinarily shameful -- chapter in American history and the (mis)treatment of American Indians. After being driven off their home territory in Kansas (an event depicted in Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House on the Prairie") in the 1870s, the Osage Indians eventually settled on a reservation in a rocky area of northern Oklahoma. A few decades later, oil was discovered there, and by the early 1920s, the Osage were among the richest people in the world, living in mansions with white servants and sending their children to the finest private schools. The federal government, however, declared the Osage were not capable of handling their own affairs; white guardians were appointed to look after their fortunes and monitor their spending.

And then, one by one, the Osage began dying.

"This is a story that has real evil in it -- evil like I've never covered or ever experienced,"  Grann told "CBS Sunday Morning," which did a story about the Osage murders and the book a few weeks ago.  

"When I began researching this story, I thought of it as a traditional mystery, a whodunnit," he said. "And by the end, I realized this wasn't a whodunnit, this was who-didn't-do-it, meaning so many people were part of this." 

The book focuses on the story of one Osage woman, Mollie Burkhart, whose mother, three sisters and brother-in-law were all murdered or died under suspicious circumstances.  It also tells the story of the fledgling Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the agent -- Tom White, from a prominent family of Texas lawmen -- assigned by the bureau's young director, J. Edgar Hoover, to lead the investigation and track down the killer(s) -- many of them the very guardians who were assigned to protect Osage interests -- or others who stood to benefit.

The last part of the book jumps to present day, and Grann's own research for this book. The FBI estimated there were 24 Osage murders between 1921 and 1925 -- but Grann came to realize there were dozens and possibly hundreds more, beginning as early as 1918 and continuing into the 1930s, involving far more people than those who were tried & convicted.  He investigates some of these lesser-known cases and manages to pinpoint at least one likely murderer who was never publicly linked to the crimes.

Unfortunately, the exact number of Osage killed during the "Reign of Terror" (as they call it) will never be known, and most of these cases will never be solved. "The blood cries out from the ground," a current tribe member tells Grann, quoting the Bible in the last line of the book. Chilling.

I will be thinking about this book for a long time.

This was book #8 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 33% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books. 

"Option B" by Sheryl Sandberg & Adam Grant

Four years ago, Sheryl Sandberg, the Chief Operating Officer of Facebook, published a book called "Lean In: Women, Work and the Will to Lead" (which I reviewed here). In the book, she lauded her husband, Dave Goldberg, for being a supportive husband and involved father, and one of her key messages to women was the importance of choosing a partner who would support them at home as well as with their professional goals.

Two years later, on May 1, 2015, Sandberg suddenly became a widow and the single mother of two young children, when Goldberg died suddenly at age 47, while they were on vacation with friends in Mexico.

Another two years has passed since Goldberg's death, and Sandberg, together with her friend Adam Grant, a professor at Wharton University, has written a new book drawing from her and her children's experiences with grief and loss, and how they have rebuilt their lives after this traumatic event.

I knew Sandberg's story and the basic premise of "Option B:  Facing Adversity, Building Resilience and Finding Joy." Still, I was still unprepared for the visceral reaction I had to the first few pages of this book. I started crying as Sandberg described finding her husband's lifeless body on the floor of the resort's gym -- the ambulance ride, how friends had to peel her away from the body at the hospital, the wails & screams from her young children when she told them their father was dead, and again at the cemetery for the burial. The raw emotions she described brought back memories of my own raw grief over the loss of our baby girl -- the wails from my mother when I made the most difficult telephone call of my life, my father's heaving shoulders at the cemetery -- and this was almost 19 years ago now...!

Nevertheless, I was glad to read "Option B" and to see such a well-known public figure address such a difficult issue with such openness and brutal honesty.

Like many of us who have experienced traumatic loss, Sandberg was convinced she would never feel joy in her life again. She begged her friends, especially those who had lost parents at a young age, to tell her that her children would be okay. Her friend Grant assured her that there were things she could do, steps they could take, to rebuild and recover. And they have.

Much like "Lean In," "Option B" blends Sandberg's personal story with stories from others she has met who have bounced back from traumatic loss and other challenging experiences.  Like "Lean In," every story is backed up by academic studies and data, all meticulously footnoted in an extensive appendix. (The sheer volume of stories and facts can be a little overwhelming to digest at times. It's not a long book -- 176 pages of text, plus footnotes & index, etc. -- but it took me a while to wade through it.)

I know some people have pointed out that Sandberg, with her wealth, position, understanding boss and other resources, is far better able to deal with adversity than most. (Since Goldberg's death, Facebook has revised its bereavement leave policies and other support mechanisms for its employees;  few other companies have yet to follow suit and offer more than the standard three-day paid bereavement leave.)  Sandberg herself admits this, and has acknowledged that she clearly was not thinking about the challenges faced by single mothers when she wrote "Lean In."

But death and grief are a great leveller -- they come to all of us, eventually, and no amount of money can shield us from it.  I believe Sandberg is sincere in her desire to use her experience -- and her public profile -- to help others and get people talking about grief, loss and adversity more openly. Much of what she has to say will be familiar to those of us who have walked a similar path -- but her words could be a lifeline for those who are newly bereaved. (It's also a good book for those who want to support struggling friends & family members in a more meaningful way.)  And most of the tips and strategies she & Grant offer in this book are things that anyone can try, that don't cost any money -- things like creating and posting a new set of "family rules," keeping a gratitude journal, finding a support group, and even just getting plenty of sleep.

I remember when Sandberg wrote her infamous Facebook post, 30 days after Goldberg's death, talking about what she'd learned about grief and loss, I wondered here on this blog whether 30 days was a little early to be making definitive "what I've learned" statements. Part of me similarly wonders whether less than two years is a little early to be making definitive pronouncements about what works and what doesn't when it comes to learning to live with loss. I would be curious to check in with Ms Sandberg in the years to come to see what, if anything, she would change or add to her book, as her relationship with grief (and that of her children) evolves.

In the end, I'll reiterate what I said then:  if Sandberg can get people talking about grief and loss issues with this book in the same way that "Lean In" fuelled new discussions about women and work-life balance, it can only be a good thing.

Sandberg is donating all proceeds from "Option B" to OptionB.org, a nonprofit initiative to help people build resilience and find meaning in the face of adversity.

This was book #7 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 29% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books. 

Ariel Levy interview

Ariel Levy, author of "The Rules Do Not Apply" (which I just reviewed in my previous post) discussed the book and her life on Charlie Rose's interview program on PBS today (at least, it aired today on my local PBS station). You can watch the interview here.

"The Rules Do Not Apply" by Ariel Levy

"When thirty-eight-year-old New Yorker writer Ariel Levy left for a reporting trip to Mongolia in 2012, she was pregnant, married, financially secure, and successful on her own terms. A month later, none of that was true." 

[Flyleaf copy, "The Rules Do Not Apply"]

*** *** ***

A couple of years back, I read an absolutely stunning first-person article by Ariel Levy in The New Yorker called "Thanksgiving in Mongolia."  Nineteen weeks into her first pregnancy, on a business trip to Mongolia (!), 38-year-old Levy delivered a tiny baby boy on the bathroom floor of her hotel room. He lived for just a few minutes.  And, as the passage above suggests, after the loss of her baby, Levy's life fell apart.

I found myself nodding throughout the article -- especially as I read, near the end:

...the truth is, the ten or twenty minutes I was somebody’s mother were black magic. There is no adventure I would trade them for; there is no place I would rather have seen.

I still find myself thinking about the article, more than three years later.

*** *** ***

"The Rules Do Not Apply" includes and expands upon the material from "Thanksgiving in Mongolia," including Levy's memories of growing up with her unconventional parents in the liberated 1970s and 80s, the aftermath of her fateful trip to Mongolia, and revealing some details that hadn't been included in the article (including a bit of a surprise twist near the end).  It's not a long book, just over 200 well-spaced pages in a generous type size.  As with the article that preceded it, the writing is beautiful, at times stunning in its impact.

Like so many young women born in the latter half of the 20th century, Levy grew up feeling unencumbered by the "rules" imposed by society on past generations. But also like many of us, she discovers that freedom still has its limits and limitations. Her story of how swiftly a carefully constructed life can fall completely apart is something those of us who have experienced traumatic loss will well relate to. (Although I will admit that, for me, the trip to Mongolia & its aftermath were more interesting and compelling than the earlier part of the book.)

I nodded as I read:

When I hear that someone has lung cancer, Did he smoke? comes into my head midway between the syllables can and cer. Obviously, I don't say it out loud, but I want to know, because I want to believe that if only my loved ones and I refrain from smoking, we will be ineligible for lung cancer (and, ideally, every other kind of cancer).  

"Have they figured out what happened yet?" people keep asking me about my own medical defeat.   

"Yes," I tell them. "I had bad luck."  

That is not what they want to hear. They want to hear that I had a bad obstetrician. Or that I took something you are not supposed to take, or didn't take something that you are. They want to hear that I neglected to get an ultrasound. Or that I have some kind of rare blood disorder that can be fixed with the right medicine or surgery or iPhone app. They want to know what they have to eat to keep from being me.   

And since I have done something that sounds bad, people -- even people who really love me -- persist in saying things like "Next time, you're not getting on any planes." It doesn't matter if I tell them that every doctor I've consulted has said unequivocally that there's nothing wrong with flying when you're five months pregnant. They want to believe that everything happens for a reason.  

Some people need to believe this to indemnify themselves -- against miscarriage, or misfortune in general. Some people need to believe it so they can say, "You'll get pregnant again and everything will work out fine," because they want to comfort me.  

But in a strange way, I am comforted by the truth. Death comes for us. You may get ten minutes on this earth or you may get eighty years but nobody gets out alive. Accepting this rule gives me a funny flicker of peace. 

Pre-Mongolia, in her early 30s, Levy interviewed New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd -- then 53, single, a Pulitzer prize winner with an amazing apartment. She was "intoxicated by her peculiarity, independence, and success."

I asked if she'd ever wanted children. She told me, "Everybody doesn't get everything."  

It sounded depressing to me at the time, a statement of defeat. Now admitting it seems like the obvious and essential work of growing up. Everybody doesn't get everything: as natural and unavoidable as mortality.

(So far as I know, Levy, now in her 40s, remains childless.)

This was book #6 that I've read so far this year, bringing me to 25% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.

"Shoulder the Sky" by D.E. Stevenson

"Shoulder the Sky" (also known as "Winter and Rough Weather") by D.E. Stevenson is the third volume in a trilogy my DES Yahoo group has been reading and discussing, including previous selections "Vittoria Cottage" and "Music in the Hills."   

Newlyweds James & Rhoda, whose on-again-off-again romance unfolded in the pages of the previous two books, return to the Scottish border country to run Boscath Farm, adjacent to Mureth, the sheep farm owned by James's aunt & uncle, Mamie & Jock.  It is beautiful but isolated, and a huge change in lifestyle for Rhoda, an artist who has been living in London, but gradually, she adapts. She & James make friends with the new young doctor in town & his sister, and she takes a special interest in Duggie, the son of Mamie's housekeeper and a budding artist himself.  A big winter storm becomes the catalyst that brings several conflicts and mysteries to their resolution. 

Like many DES novels, not much really happens in "Shoulder the Sky."  It's a light, fast read from a different, simpler time (first published in 1951) -- but it's engaging writing and endearing characters. It's just the thing to curl up with on the couch on a cold winter's day, with a cup of tea close at hand. :) 

This was book #5 that I've read so far this year, bringing me to 21% of my 2017 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 24 books.

"The Lost City of Z" by David Grann

The Lost City of Z:  A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon by David Grann had been languishing in my to-read pile for the last few years. I was finally prompted to pick it up when I learned about an upcoming movie adaptation (to be released in April) (and I love that, in the trailers I've seen, they pronounce "Z" as "Zed," in the British/Canadian fashion!).

I don't know why books like "The Lost City of Z" (and, for example, "Into the Silence" by Wade Davis, a few years back) fascinate me so much. I loved learning about North American explorers such as Samuel de Champlain and Pierre de la Verendrye and Alexander Mackenzie when I was in school -- and Daniel Boone was my childhood hero! -- so maybe it's the allure of discovering new worlds. (Or perhaps it's because I know it's something I would never, ever do myself, lol.)

"The Lost City of Z" tells the true story of British explorer Percy Fawcett, who made multiple trips to the Amazon jungle in the early part of the 20th century -- first to map the region for the Royal Geographic Society, and then to pursue his growing obsession with finding a lost city of untold riches. Some called it El Dorado;  Fawcett called it Z. Fawcett, along with his son Jack, disappeared into the jungle for the final time in 1925 in search of Z. The book also tells the stories of subsequent expeditions mounted to learn what happened to Fawcett -- including the author's personal journey to pick up the trail, more than 75 years later.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. Having said that, I'm debating whether to see the movie. Be forewarned, this is not a book for the squeamish (it doesn't overly dwell on the "ick" factor -- but it's there...), and I can just imagine how it will translate onto film...! Reading about the bugs, snakes (like Indiana Jones, I HATE SNAKES), parasites, piranhas, cannibals (!) and other creatures that have made exploration of the Amazon so difficult was cringe-inducing (and reminded me why I haven't been camping in 40 years, let alone trekking into the Amazon).  Fawcett and his men (not to mention their poor horses and other animals) endured incredible hardship, and it's amazing to me that he returned not just once but several times over the years (he came to believe he was invincible). It was also sobering to read the author's descriptions of what's happened to the Amazon in the years since Fawcett first explored the area:  huge swaths of the jungle have been clearcut or burned in the name of commerce, altering the ecosystem, perhaps irreversably.

The ending was not quite what I expected, and still leaves many questions unanswered -- but it was satisfying in its own way.  (Kind of like life after infertility & loss, lol.) 

This was book #4 that I've read so far in 2017, bringing me to 17% of my Goodreads Reading Challenge Goal for this year of 24 books.