The Blue Bookcase

Review: The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 16:00:00 +0000

Reviewed by Connie

Published: 1985

It's about: Offred is a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead. She may leave the home of the Commander and his wife once a day to walk to food markets whose signs are now pictures instead of words because women are no longer allowed to read. She must lie on her back once a month and pray that the Commander makes her pregnant, because in an age of declining fertility, Offred and the other Handmaids are valued only if their ovaries are viable. Offred can remember the years before, when she lived and made love with her husband, Luke; when she played with and protected her daughter; when she had a job, money of her own, and access to knowledge. But all of that is gone now... (stolen from Goodreads this time)

I thought: I think it's important to mention that one of my very favorite books is 1984 by George Orwell, and it is the standard against which I hold every other dystopian novel I read. As such, I had a complicated experience with The Handmaid's Tale.

Atwood's writing style is beyond reproach, and she appears, above all, to be a talented storyteller. Her main character, Offred, is interesting and complex enough to invest interest in, which is pretty significant, considered the majority of the book consists of her inner monologue. And I loved how woman-power it was. Atwood is very successful in depicting many different women's reactions and attitudes toward the patriarchal takeover, so in that sense the book is pretty realistic. Though most of them are boiled down to the basics, when I would meet another woman, I would have the feeling that I'd met that woman before. To put it briefly, Atwood gets women.

Although this is a dystopia, I thought much of the most insightful social commentaries are relatively understated-- slipped in here and there, so if you weren't paying close enough attention, you might miss it. Like this:

"The Marthas are not supposed to fraternize with us. Fraternize means to behave like a brother. Luke told me that. He said there was no corresponding word that meant to behave like a sister. Sororize, it would have to be, he said. From the Latin."

And parts of the book certainly are moving and insightful and, occasionally, chillingly prophetic, especially read in a post-9/11 context.

However, I didn't absolutely love the book. The tale begins in the midst of the dystopian government's reign, and the history of how the government came to power and the explanation of the new society's rules are gradually disclosed. In some ways, this strategy works-- Offred describes it as "reconstructing" her life bit by bit, so when the trauma of such an upheaval is considered, the disjointed narrative seems the way to go. BUT, I found the necessary "suspension of disbelief" more difficult because of that structure. Without knowing the history and rules of the society for the beginning half of the novel, the whole situation seemed almost too far-fetched to be truly thought-provoking.

Ingrid and Christina both loved this novel, and if I remember correctly, at least one of them referred to it as life-changing. I read this with the intention of adding my approving voice, but my initial reaction was more reserved. After finishing it, I didn't find myself contemplating it, as I couldn't help but do with 1984. I didn't find in Atwood's book the same depth or the emotional impact of Orwell's. 1984 shakes you to the very foundation and demands that you reanalyze your most preciously held beliefs. For the first week or so after reading Atwood's book, I believed that The Handmaid's Tale doesn't demand as much introspection, and really, what's a dystopian novel for if not to provoke introspection?

Now, having been removed from the book for over a week, I find myself rethinking my original conclusion. I have found that while Atwood's dystopia doesn't thunder and shake like Orwell's, it quietly plants a seed of thought. As I have revisited the book to write this review, reading over passages I had highlighted, I have found myself thinking about it more and more. I believe I will need to re-read this book to truly appreciate or understand it, and I plan to.

Verdict: On the Shelf

Warnings: A couple mild descriptions of sex

Favorite excerpts:
"The Republic of Gilead, said Aunt Lydia, knows no bounds. Gilead is within you."

"There's time to spare. This is one of the things I wasn't prepared for -- the amount of unfilled time, the long parentheses of nothing. Time as white as sound. If only I could embroider. Weave, knit, something to do with my hands. I want a cigarette. I remember walking in art galleries, through the nineteenth century: the obsession they had then with harems. Dozens of paintings of harems, fat women lolling on divans, turbans on their heads or velvet caps, being fanned with peacock tails, a eunuch in the background standing guard. Studies of sedentary flesh, painted by men who'd never been there. These pictures were supposed to be erotic, and I thought they were, at the time; but I see now what they were really about. They were paintings about suspended animation; about waiting, about objects not in use.

They were paintings about boredom. But maybe boredom is erotic, when women do it, for men."

What I'm reading next: The Book of Mormon Girl by Joanna Brooks

Purchase The Handmaid's Tale on Amazon.com

Review: The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 03:02:00 +0000

preparing Japanese tea Via

Reviewed by Ingrid

Published: 1906

It's about: In this long essay, Kakuzo Okakura discusses the history, development, and influence of the ritual of tea and the Japanese tea ceremony. He explains "Teaism," a view related to Daoism and Zennism, which draws philosophical and aesthetic meaning from the ceremony of drinking tea, promoting harmony, discipline, and enlightenment. He also discusses how Teaism is linked to art-appreciation, the architecture and interior of the Japaenese tea-house, and flower arranging.

This book was a major part of the Orientalist movement and influenced T. S. Eliot and Ezra Pound. It has also been said to be a major influence on Heidegger's concept of dasein, which he drew from Kakuzo's explaination of Zhuangzi's approach to Daoism.

Since Okakura was educated in the British tradition, this book (and all of Okakura's other works) was originally written in English. It is considered one of the English tea classics.

I thought: I read through this little book in one setting, with a cup of this tea in hand. (Fun fact - my husband and I stayed at a Japanese spa in New Mexico for our honeymoon where this tea was served, so it brings back good memories.) The first thing I noticed it that this book demands quite a different kind of reading than a novel. I consulted wikipedia a few times to help clarify some of the Daoist concepts Okakura discussed. I also found myself linking a lot of these concepts in my head to passages I remember discussing in a class I took last year on Asian literature when we read from The Tale of Genji, especially regarding the cult of aestheticism in traditional Japanese culture. I think the importance of beauty to Japanese culture is why Okakura included a section on art appreciation, which at first glance seems a bit out of place in a book that's supposed to be about tea. This section was actually my very favorite part of this book. I especially loved the following passage, which comes after a discussion of the tea-room as a place where one can "consecrate himself to undisturbed adoration of the beautiful." Here Okakura describes the relationship between an art masterpiece and the viewer or recipient:

The masterpiece is a symphony played upon our finest feelings. . . . At the magic touch of the beautiful the secret chords of our being are awakened, we vibrate and thrill in response to its call. Mind speaks to mind. We listen to the unspoken, we gaze upon the unseen. The master calls forth notes we know not of. Memories long forgotten all come back to us with a new significance. Hopes stifled by fear, yearnings that we dare not recognise, stand forth in new glory. Our mind is the canvas on which the artists lay their colour; their pigments are our emotions; their chiaroscuro the light of joy, the shadow of sadness. The masterpiece is of ourselves, as we are of the masterpiece.

When I first read this passage, it reminded me of one of my favorite passages from James Joyce's short story "Araby" ("My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.") It also reminded me of The Tale of Genji and how it depicted emotions as beautiful in themselves, which is very different than a traditional Western approach to aesthetics. I enjoyed reading this pleasant little book. It was just long enough that the deep thinking it promoted was a delight and not a chore. I highly recommend it.

Kakuzo Okakura (via)

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf, especially if you consider yourself a lover of tea and/or Japanese culture.

Reading Recommendations: Here's a nice short article about The Book of Tea at The Guardian.

Warnings: None.

Favorite excerpts:
"There is a subtle charm in the taste of tea which makes it irresistible and capable of idealisation. Western humourists were not slow to mingle the fragrance of their thought with its aroma. It has not the arrogance of wine, the self-consciousness of coffee, nor the simpering innocence of cocoa."

"The art of life lies in a constant readjustment to our surroundings."

What I'm reading next: O Pioneers! by Willa Cather

Guest Review: Works of Love by Søren Kierkegaard

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:41:00 +0000

Guest Review by Rachel Hunt Steenblik. Rachel is a philosopher, librarian, and reader. She is currently getting her PhD at Claremont Graduate University. She also blogs at tenderheartedmercy.blogspot.com.

Søren Kierkegaard via

Title: Works of Love by Søren Kierkegaard

Published: 1995. First published 1845.

It's about: Works of love, nor merely love. Kierkegaard tells us that this is the case because the book is full of Christian deliberations. What this means for us is that Kierkegaard is not giving us a theory of love. He is not giving us love as sentimentality, or passion, or feeling. Neither is he teaching us exactly what we need to do to be loving. For instance, he never says, "do this and this and this, and turn around three times, and then you are loving." Instead, he is taking a topic, love, that most people think they know something about, and he is telling them that it is both easier and harder than they think. He wants there to be an earnestness, and he wants there to be a difficulty.

More than anything, it is asking people to truly believe in love, and then to live it by practicing, and practicing again. It takes self-denial and it takes self-looking at. It also takes looking at God, and understanding the way God looks at us and those around us. We come to learn that everyone is the neighbor because everyone has the same relation before God. In the world, there is a ladder, with some people higher and some people lower. We admire some, we may not admire others. There are kings and there are poor people. There are beautiful people and there are ugly people. There are lovers and there are friends who share preferential relationships. For God and for Kierkegaard there are only neighbors. It is this neighbor love, this God love, this eternal, true love, that Works of Love is interested in.

The book itself is divided into two parts. (Fascinating fact: Kierkegaard thought he would die before he turned 34. He finished the first part, assuming that that would be all. He celebrated his birthday, and was still alive. He went to the registers to see if his birthday could possibly have been a different day. It couldn't be, so he wrote part II.) These two parts contain deliberations, or discourses on love. Each deliberation is inspired by a single verse from the New Testament. For example, one deliberation is on love's ability to believe all things from Paul's famous treatise on love in 1 Corinthians 13, but goes further and asserts that it is never deceived. Another is on love's ability to hope all things, but goes further and asserts that it is never put to shame. Still other deliberations focus on true love's ability to abide, to build up, and to cover a multitude of sins.

Kierkegaard was writing at a time when many things in his world were becoming easier. In one sense everyone was Christian because everyone belonged to the state church, but in another sense, this made it so very few people were actually Christian. Kierkegaard fought against this, and wanted to make it harder to be a Christian, so some people actually could be. He was concerned with helping people become individuals and selves, as he believed they were not born that way, but became that way by proper relations and choices. One way he did this was by writing indirectly and often pseudonymously. While Works of Love does bear Kierkegaard's own name, it does not make his task any different.

I thought: This book is beautiful, and inspiring, and challenging, and almost every deliberation called me out on things that I need to do better if I want to be a loving person, or a more loving person. It is not enough simply to love our friends or families or beloveds (though we must keep loving them too). No, 'even the pagans do the same.' Even those outside of Christianity do the same. Christian love does more: it loves the neighbor (who is everyone), and it keeps loving the neighbor, even when it is hard. Perhaps, especially when it is hard. It also loves the self and God in the right way, which requires being faced to God and the self appropriately. For Kierkegaard this means that we help the neighbor love God, and that we love ourselves as we love the neighbor, which is to help ourselves love God, and then we love God by loving the neighbor and ourselves properly.

I appreciate the way that Kierkegaard wrote this book. His writing is clear, and each deliberation is perfectly introduced, defended, and concluded. I also appreciate that he takes stories as evidence for his assertions. Some of these stories come from the Bible and concern Christ, Peter, and others. Just as many come from life, even his life, but he never labels them as such. These stories are like his pseudonymous writing, where we are presented with different options, and can find the broader message for ourselves. We also have the option of applying that broader message to ourself or not. Kierkegaard has a similarly good emphasis on language. One example is found at the beginning of his deliberation "Love Builds Up." When we talk about building up in terms of a building, we are always talking about a height dimension. Building horizontally is 'building on.' Building up, on the other hand, also requires building up from the ground up, from the foundation. He goes on to translate this building talk to talk about love. We must assume that there already exists a foundation of love. Thus, upbuilding love is to assume that there is love in the other person. Assuming that this love is present allows us to build up that person rather than tear down. It also allows us to see love everywhere. The last thing I appreciate about this book is that it can be read either simply, merely as devotionals, or philosophically with intricate arguments. Both ways of reading are valid.

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf. The text itself is sometimes dense, but as far as both philosophy and Kierkegaard goes, it is rather accessible. Some deliberations are also slower than others, but it is worth pushing through, because there are enough beautiful and uplifting gems. It is a book I have purchased and stuck on my own shelf two separate times. I don't regret it in the least, as it is one of those books I keep coming back to, and feel the necessity of coming back.

Reading Recommendations: Kierkegaard himself suggests that readers read it slowly and carefully. That is probably a good rule. You don't have to be a philosopher to get something out of it, or even a Christian. It is simply one of the best pieces of writing on love and loving.

Warnings: No warnings.

Favorite excerpts: "What is it, namely, that connects the temporal and eternity, what else but love, which for that very reason is before everything and remains after everything is gone."

"Your friend, your beloved, your child, or whoever is an object of your love has a claim upon an expression of it also in words if it actually moves you inwardly. The emotion is not your possession but belongs to the other; the expression is your debt to him, since in the emotion you indeed belong to him who moves you and you become aware that you belong to him... You should let the mouth speak out of the abundance of the heart; you should not be ashamed of your feelings and even less of honestly giving each one his due."

"There is no word in human language, not one single one, not the most sacred one, about which we are able to say: If a person uses this word, it is unconditionally demonstrated that there is love in that person... There is no work, not one single one, not even the best, about which we unconditionally dare to say: The one who does this unconditionally demonstrates love by it. It depends on how the work is done."

"The commandment is that you shall love, but ah, if you will understand yourself and life, then it seems that it should not need to be commanded, because to love people is the only thing worth living for, and without this love you are not really living. "

What I'm reading next: A Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion.

Review: Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 02:42:00 +0000

via

Reviewed by Christina

Published: As 20 Poemas de amor y una Canción desesperada, 1924. This translation, by W.S. Merwin, 1969

It's about: Twenty love poems. And then a song of despair.

I thought: Well. First of all, a disclaimer: I really have no right to review poetry. I know so little about it, and it's been years since I read much poetry at all. So consider this more of a response than a review if you want to.

Today I got a hankerin' for some lovey poetry ('tis the season). Enter Señor Neruda. And boy, does he deliver the goods. This is an intensely romantic collection of poems, rich with tastefully erotic imagery and nature-y symbolism. It's no surprise that nineteen-year-old Pablo Neruda was vaulted into literary stardom when 20 Poemas de amor y una Canción desesperada was first published in 1924. The romantic themes are powerfully expressed and universal: longing, stillness, anticipation, and worshipful, passionate love, all wrapped in teenage urgency. And then there's the seething Song of Despair, a breakup song if I ever heard one.

I'm not gonna lie, there are definitely lines, stanzas, whole poems in this collection that I just don't get. It probably has something to do with my inexperience with poetry. I lose my train of thought in phrases like this: "from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges," and then I get annoyed when I have to rearrange it in my head ("sometimes the coast of dread emerges from your regard") and I get more distracted still when I try to check my version with the Spanish original on the opposite page.

But then, out of nowhere, BAM! A simple truth like "Love is so short, forgetting is so long." Or a uniquely descriptive stanza, like this:

In you is the illusion of each day.
You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers.
You undermine the horizon with your absence.
Eternally in flight like the wave.

Ah! Amor!

Verdict: It's not my favorite poetry ever, but it definitely still deserves a place on the shelf.

Reading Recommendations: This is a perfect V-day read, whether you're in love or not. It's very short and it'll help you remember all the wonderful and terrible things about love.
And don't get one of those editions that leaves off the Song of Despair.

Warnings: sexy!

Favorite excerpts: from XIV:
"My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

And from the Song of Despair:
"Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs,
oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies.

Oh the mad coupling of hope and force
in which we merged and despaired."

What I'm reading next: Still savoring My Mistress's Sparrow Is Dead

Literary Blog Hop: February 9-12

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 05:00:00 +0000

Welcome to the Literary Blog Hop hosted by The Blue Bookcase!

This monthly blog hop is open to blogs that primarily feature book reviews of literary fiction, classic literature, and general literary discussion.

How do I know if my blog qualifies as "literary"? Literature has many definitions, but for our purposes your blog qualifies as "literary" if it focuses primarily on texts with aesthetic merit. In other words, texts that show quality not only in narrative but also in the effect of their language and structure. YA literature may fit into this category, but if your blog focuses primarily on non-literary YA, fantasy, romance, paranormal romance, or chick lit, you may prefer to join the blog hop at Crazy-for-books that is open to book blogs of all kinds.

Instructions for entering the Literary Blog Hop:

1. Grab the code for the Button.

2. Answer the following prompt on your blog.
(Suggestions for future prompts? Email to them us at thebluebookcase@gmail.com)

Here's our question this week:

In the epilogue for Fargo Rock City, Chuck Klosterman writes:

Our answer comes from Christina:

When I write a review, I almost always stress out about my overuse of the word "I." I worry that my posts are really more personal responses than intellectual reviews, and that my self-absorption comes through more clearly than the points I'm trying to make about the book. So when I read that quotation from Mr. Klosterman a few days ago, it really stuck out in my mind and made me think.

That same day Ingrid posted Why I Review, a discussion of the purpose of book blog reviewing. There are a bunch of smart comments on that post. One of them is from Ben: "Distance is critical. In reading, in intellectual matters and even if physical work, like boxing for example. Establishing proper distance is vital to not get punched in the face."

What's the ideal balance between autobiography and distance in an informal review? Obviously with academic writing distance is far more important than personal connection. But when I'm reading a blog post, I do like to learn a little about the reviewer while I'm also learning about the book and author. Then again, extremely emotional responses don't usually make great reviews. I don't really have an answer to this prompt, which is why I was so eager to post it. How do you find balance in your own review writing? What kind of autobiography-to-distance ratio do you prefer when you're reading a blog?

3. Add your link to the Linky List below.

Happy Hopping!
*PLEASE NOTE: if you do not answer the question and link back to The Blue Bookcase in a post on your blog, you will be removed from the Linky list.

"It's always been my theory that criticism is really just veiled autobiography; whenever someone writes about a piece of art, they're really just writing about themselves."

Do you agree?

Review: Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 11:32:00 +0000

Reviewed by Christina

Full Title: Fargo Rock City: A Heavy Metal Odyssey in Rural Nörth Daköta

Published: 2001

It's about: Chuck Klosterman, a pop culture critic and essayist, describes his teenagerhood while providing an informal, opinionated history of 80's heavy metal. It's an unusual blend of memoir and music journalism.

I thought: Multiple people have told me that I would like Chuck Klosterman. So when I saw Fargo Rock City was a selection in the Dead End Follies Book Club, I was all "OK Chuck, let's rock." (I was also motivated by the North Dakota connection- I lived near the Canadian border when I was a kid, and you just don't see many books that have anything to do with NoDak life.)

And yes, those multiple people were right; I did like this book. Mr. Klosterman is funny, clever, and articulate. I really enjoy a good piece of music journalism, and even though I don't have any connection to 80's heavy metal I still related to a lot of the book. Chuck and his adolescent friends felt the same way about Metal as I did about Alternative ten years later: Society and The Establishment just don't "get" it! Mainstream pop sucks! People who say they like "all kinds of music" aren't to be trusted! "Sell outs" are the lowest of the low!

But I didn't always like the author himself. Chuck Klosterman has a strong personality- he's kind of an arrogant schmuck. He has some really stupid ideas about women, like how we are disloyal and overly emotional, and the section in which he lamely defends the sexism inherent in heavy metal REALLY pushed my buttons. Reading Fargo Rock City is like listening to a knowledgeable but extremely opinionated friend babble on about his favorite subject; eventually that friend is bound to get on your nerves. Like when he wants to talk to you for hours about every favorite metal album and why he likes it. Luckily with a book you can skim the boring parts. I don't think I'd like to be cornered by an inebriated Chuck in a bar.

But you know, 85% of the time I spent reading this book I was happy/amused/entertained, even though it's mostly about a subject I don't care about. And that's a real testament to Klosterman's writing skills. His chapter about theatrical satanism in metal is brilliant. And I really dug the moments when he mentioned the bands I knew and loved in the 90's. I'll definitely seek out more of his writing. And, since it's been over ten years since Fargo Rock City was published, I'll be curious to see whether his voice and/or opinions have changed over the years.

Verdict: In-Between. If you grew up with heavy metal and you like a really opinionated critic, you'll probably love it. Otherwise, you might not.

Reading Recommendations: There's a really good review of this one over at Illiterarty. And you can check out the book club discussion here.

Warnings: SWEARS and some sex talk.

Favorite excerpts: "Another good reason to hate heavy metal is Ted Nugent, or-- more accurately-- people who are like Ted Nugent. Every time I go to a big rock show, I see herds of these kind of men, and they always make me wish I had the power to give people polio."

"If your cassette collection had too many other nonmetal artists, you were bordering on being one of those goddamn eclectics who really didn't love anything. One of my primary theories as a junior high kid was that people who claimed to like every genre of music were liars and hypocrites; they lacked backbone. I never trusted open-minded people."

What I'm reading next: Still My Mistress's Sparrow is Dead

Post: Why I Review

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 19:31:00 +0000

Post by Ingrid

We've never participated in The Sunday Salon before, but since I had a topic in mind I thought today would be a good day to start.

What makes a good review? It seems like everyone has a different answer to this question. Last summer Jeff at The Reading Ape wrote a post on the reader centered review, which sparked a great conversation in the comments. I reread this post today as I've recently been thinking quite a bit about how I frame my own reviews.

The Blue Bookcase is coming up on its 2 year anniversary in March. Over these past 2 years we've cycled through different reviewers and started to participate in and host new memes. The main content of this blog, though, has always been book reviews. In her one year anniversary post last March, Connie wrote that her original purpose for the blog was to keep track of the books she had read and to exchange reviews with her friends. We've tried to keep the tone of this blog casual and accessible, and though we have expanded quite a bit since those first few months, we hope that The Blue Bookcase will always remain this way.

I was still in school and inculcated in academia when I first started to review here, and I remember how I tried to write my reviews from a more scholarly point of view. (The Comparative Literature department I studied in was known for its elitism, and though I tried not to let it affect me, I realize now that it kind of did.) However, now that I'm more familiar and comfortable with the book blogging community and the other girls that write for this blog, I realize that in those early reviews I came off a little bit arrogant. I truly hope that I've been able to move away from that tone as my reviewing style has evolved. On the other hand, as I've read back over some of my more recent reviews, I wish I had been able to discuss the books I've reviewed in more depth instead of just quickly listing off what I liked or didn't like about it. Part of me misses that academic frame of reference that school provided for me, and I wish I could somehow still bring that into my reviews.

So, as we move toward our second anniversary, I hope to be able to strike a balance between maintaining the fun, casual tone of this blog as well as digging a little deeper in the way I write about books. I also hope to apply to graduate school this year, and I want to use this blog as a platform to improve the way I write and think about literature. I love the fun, laid-back book discussion this blog has provided, and I believe the atmosphere this blog has created is truly why I review.

Of course, we also have the lovely and intelligent Connie, Christina, Lucia, Liesl, and Christine-Chioma who also regularly write reviews for The Blue Bookcase. Part of the fun of this blog is the fact that we all approach our reviews in different ways. Hopefully these girls will share in the comments their point of view on this topic.

What about you? If you are a book blogger, why do you review? What do you look for in reviews you read from other book blogs?

Moby Dick Readalong Ch 94-epilogue

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 18:24:00 +0000

We've done it! We've finally conquered the white whale! When Melissa told me on twitter that she'd finally finished, I threw some virtual whale-shaped confetti her way. Here's some more for all of us! *throws handful upon handful of whale-shaped confetti*

I also read Nathanial Philbrick's short book Why Read Moby Dick last week, so I'm going to include some insightful quotes from his essays in our summary this week. Here we go.

-------------
This section starts out with possibly the weirdest chapter of this book, entitled "A Squeeze of the Hand." (Come on, Melville. I read your chapter title and I'm already uncomfortable here.) Ishmael describes how the blubber is dealt with after it is actually cut off the whale. Philbrick explains, "Eventually, the spermaceti [blubber] (so named because that's what it now looks like, semen or sperm) becomes so thick and lumpy that it must be squeezed back into a liquid form before it can be heated in the tryworks." Well that's gross. So here's how Ishmael describes this little situation:

"Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze! All the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm til a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gently globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,--Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness."

Well then. (I'm a little scared to look at search keywords that bring traffic to our blog after this post.) You honestly cannot say that is not some extremely homoerotic imagery here. We still don't know why, or what it's supposed to mean, but it's there. Moving right along.

One man's special job includes cutting up the blubber - but this can be a messy job, so he makes himself a little body suit by cutting off the foreskin of the whale's penis, cutting a few slits in it, and climbing right it. (I swear that's what he does. Melville doesn't straight up write those words, but that's what Philbrick said it was.) Ishmael then compares this man in his little outfit to a clergyman standing at a pulpit-like table cutting the blubber into bible leaves. Wow, that's quite the metaphor. Now we know how Ishmael feels about clergymen.

Since we've finally finished,
we can all officially wear this
shirt without looking like jerks.
(Jerks wear shirts of books they
haven't read.)

Anyway. Now the blubber is melted down in big try pots, and the smoke smells terrible. It is then sealed in casks and stored below deck. Then, the whole ship is meticulously cleaned.

The sailors admire the gold doubloon that Ahab nailed to the mast. The Pequod meets a British whaling ship whose captain has a fake arm made from whale bone because, like Ahab, he also lost a limb to Moby Dick. Ahab and British Captain tap their whale bone limbs together in solidarity. Ishmael tells us about British whaling ships and the kind of food and drink they keep on board.

Ishmael saw a sperm whale skeleton on an island once, he tells us. He gives us all the measurements and informs us that sperm whales can be up to 90 feet long. He discusses whale fossils. He makes the argument that whales will never become extinct.

Meanwhile, Ahab's whale-bone leg is giving out, so he orders the ship's carpenter to make him a new one. The casks of whale oil are leaking. Starbuck thinks they should take it ashore to avoid further loss of oil into the sea, but Ahab says no - they will keep going in search of the white whale.

Queequeg gets sick. He makes a big show about having the carpenter make him a fancy floating coffin for when he dies from his sickness. Queequeg gets better.

The Pequod finally reaches the Pacific ocean. Ishmael tells us about the ship's blacksmith. Ahab works with the blacksmith to make a special harpoon with which he plans to kill the white whale. The ocean is peaceful. Ahab talks about death.

The Pequod passes the Bachelor, a happy ship with dancing sailors. They haven't seen the white whale, they tell Ahab. Philbrick writes, "There are occasional brief reprieves when the Pequod meets yet another whaleship with news of Moby Dick (each ship representing its own alternative to the Ahab way), but as the final showdown approaches, we have become so scorched and crushed and otherwise slapped around by Ahab in his magnificent emergence as an evil superhero that it becomes increasingly difficult to care. But that is precisely the point."

The Pequod kills more whales. Ahab spends the night in a small whale boat next to a whale he killed because the Pequod can't get it until morning. He and Fedellah talk about death. Fedellah tells Ahab he will die by hemp.

Ahab measures his lattitude by the sun. The Pequod sails through a typhoon. Ahab's harpoon catches fire with the ship is hit by lightening. Conversations on various topics are had. There is more thunder and lightening. The typhoon ends. The lightening of the storm turned the compasses in the exact opposite direction. Ahab makes a new one to instill in his men confidence in his abilities as captain.

Ahab and Pip become BFFs. A man is lost overboard along with the life buoy. It is replaced at the boy of the ship by Queequeg's coffin, which becomes the new life buoy. (Ironic.) Now a sad part. The Pequod meets The Rachel. The Rachel's captain begs Ahab to help him search for his young son, who is lost at sea on a small whale boat. Ahab refuses and orders the ship to keep moving forward in search of Moby Dick. Ingrid cries inside.

Ahab goes to the masthead to keep an eye out for the white whale. A bird steals his hat. The Pequod meets the Delight and witnesses a sea burial. Starbuck tries to convince Ahab to go back to Nantucket, but he won't. Ahab leans over the side of the ship and meets Fedallah's gaze in the reflection. Philbrick says, "This is where Melville is perhaps the most profound in his portrait of Ahab as the demagogue and dictator. In the end, even the fiercest of tyrants is done in, not by his own sad, used-up self, but by his enablers, the so-called professionals, who keep whispering in his ear."

Moby Dick is spotted. All whale boats are lowered to pursue him. Ahab finally confronts his foe. Melville writes, "then it was that monomaniac Ahab, furious with this tantalizing vicinity of his foe, which placed him all alive and helples in the very jaws he hated; frenzied with all this, he seized the long bone with his naked hands, and wildly strove to wrench it from its gripe." Philbrick again:
"In our age, we all love whales and wish them nothing but the best, but you've got to hand it to the castrated, one-legged, fifty-eight-year-old lapsed Quaker; he doesn't mess around." [Ahab was castrated ?]

The whale bites Ahab's whale boat in half and menacingly swims in circles around Ahab, who struggles to keep afloat in the water because of his crippled leg. One of the other boats picks him up.

The next day, Moby Dick comes back again and destroys more whaling boats along with Ahab's new fake leg. Starbuck begs Ahab to give up the fight, but of course, he won't.

The next day Moby Dick returns again. Ahab, in his fury, tries to harpoon the whale, but the rope gets tangled around his neck and drags him into the ocean, and he dies. Moby Dick rams his head against the Pequod, and the ship sinks.

Ishmael is the only one to survive the wreck and is picked up by the Rachel, "that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan."

--------------

Ok, so what's with the whale?
Philbrick writes, "The White Whale is not a symbol. He is as real as you or I. He has a crooked jaw, a humped back, and a wiggle-waggle when he's really moving fast. He is a thing of blubber, blood, muscle, and bone--a creation of the natural world that transcends any fiction. So forget about trying to figure out what the White Whale signifies. . . . This is the fundamental reason we continue to read this or any other literary classic. It's not the dazzling technique of the author; it's his or her ability to deliver reality on the page."

As I was thinking about Melville's funny little chapters about every aspect of the whale, I realized something. One of my favorite professors in college used to always tell us that the most important lesson one can learn is how to differentiate between things, and to do this, you need to know details. Since we were comparative literature majors, he told us we should memorize the definitions of every literary term we could, we should know the difference between a trend and a movement, we should learn to read every text in its original language. (Do I remember most of those things? No.) I did learn, though, that knowledge is in the details.

This is exactly what Melville is doing with his little chapters - he's laying out every single little detail about the whale so we can most fully appreciate and understand the significance of this story. We learn about the skeleton of the whale so we can better understand how menacing this huge whale was when he was swimming in circles around Ahab. We learn about the shape of his head so we can understand how he was able to ram into the Pequod and sink it. We learn about its whiteness so we can appreciate what makes it ominously stand apart from other Sperm whales.

Sculpture of Moby Dick (via)

After considering what could be important about these funny little chapters, I decided that I loved how Melville used them as the organizing principle for this story.

I have been reserving judgment of the book until I finished it, because my experiences with Kazuo Ishiguro have taught me we must sometimes patiently await the aha moment. For me, that moment came in this section when Ahab has a heart-to-heart with Starbuck about the meaning of life.

Ahab says, "Forty--forty--forty years ago!--ago! Forty years of continual whaling! forty years of privation, and peril, and storm-time! forty years on the pitiless sea!"

And perhaps Melville has crafted the book so that we, the reader, don't sympathize with Ahab -- we are Ahab. We, too, on the inside, cry, "Forty--forty--forty hours ago! Forty hours of continual reading about whaling! forty hours of boredom, and little peril, and homoerotic imagery! forty hours on a pitiless book!" Come the end, we, too, are sick and weary and maybe a little mad.

All the omens warn Ahab to turn back from his pursuit of the whale, the most potent of which is when Ahab looks into Starbuck's eyes and sees his family.

"Starbuck, let me look into a human eye; it is better than to gaze into sea or sky; better than to gaze upon God...this is the magic glass, man; I see my wife and child in thine eye." and Starbuck begs, "Oh, my captain! my captain! Noble soul! grand heart, after all, why should anyone give chase to that hated fish! Away with me! let us fly these deadly waters! let us home!"

But perhaps we understand why Ahab has to go after Moby Dick. Ahab has spent 40 years of his life on whaling, and though his natural instinct begs him to relinquish his quest and return home to his family, he insists upon pursuing Moby Dick. He has to make all the sacrifice mean something.

Maybe that's why we persisted through Moby Dick. Because, at the end of it all, we had to make all those chapters about spermeceti and cetology and the bizarre stage directions mean something. So we had to keep reading. We, too, had to go after Moby Dick.

In this way, perhaps Moby Dick really is the first post-modern novel -- not in the way I think most people mean, referencing Melville's use of experimental forms-- but because it illustrates man's desperate need to ascribe meaning to life.

When Ahab looks into Starbuck's eyes and sees the eyes of his wife and child, after all the omens, he is presented once more with a choice -- a choice to either accept that the most meaning life has is in the relationships one nurtures with other people, or to keep searching in the hope that he will find greater meaning as he pursues the whale. Ahab fatally chooses the latter, because choosing the former would mean accepting that his life's work and his lifelong search have been in vain. Though Ishmael claims the story is no allegory, Ahab's is a cautionary tale against looking too deeply or for too long for the meaning of all things.

Now, we are desperate to hear your thoughts. What did you think of the end? Of the book as a whole? Would you read it again? Would you recommend it to others? What did you take away from Moby Dick?

What do you think of the emerging theme of death in the second half of the book (Queequog deciding not to die because he remembered an errand he has to run back home, the use of the coffin as the life buoy and what saves Ishmael's life and the only thing to float to the surface after the Pequod's wreck. the sea burial they witness of that sailor)? What is Melville saying about death?

To wrap up this long post, here's Philbrick's answer to the question why read Moby Dick? - "In the end, Melville had found a way back to the view espoused by Ishmael in Moby-Dick: 'Doubts of all things earthly, and intuitions of some things heavenly; this combination makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them both with equal eye.' This redemptive mixture of skepticism and hope, this genial stoicism in the face of a short, ridiculous, irrational life, is why I read Moby Dick."

Why do you read it?

Jan 9: Introduction

Jan 12: Chapters 1-26

Jan 19: Chapters 27-55

Jan 26: Chapters 56-93

Feb 2: Chapter 94-epilogue

Review: The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, v.1: a collaboration from hitRECord

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 11:00:00 +0000

Reviewed by Christina and Ingrid
[We received complimentary copies of this book in exchange for an honest review.]
Published: 2011

It's about: The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories is the result of a collaborative project from hitRECord, Joseph Gordon-Levitt's multimedia production company. Thousands of artists contributed words and pictures, and the best of the best were selected for publication in three tiny (4"x6") books.

Volume 1 has about 45 very short stories, each one or two sentences and accompanied by art.

Christina thought: I like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, even more so since I found out about hitRECord. I really dig the idea of online artistic collaboration, and given my interest in Hint Fiction I was enthusiastic when I heard about The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories. The book itself is very, very cute and hipstery. I like having it around the house.

But I thought the quality of the stories was uneven. A few of them are beautifully simple and meaningful. A few are clever and/or funny. Most of them are cute. Several are kind of obvious (the Midas touching himself thing: doesn't every kid think about that when they first hear the story of Midas?) and some are just plain cheesy. Some are eye-rollingly emo. I generally admired the art more than the words.

So yeah, this collection didn't amaze me, but I still enjoyed the few minutes I spent reading it.

Ingrid thought: I remember seeing an ad on BookRiot for this book a few months ago. There was a big banner that flashed the words "The universe is not made of atoms," it said, "it's made of tiny stories." I was intrigued. My final opinion of this book, though, is that it's just kind of meh. I mean, it's pretty cute, but not all that interesting. It almost seems like a kids book. Kids would love how small this book is (I think - kids like small stuff, right?) and they would like the pictures. If I were reading this to a kid, though, there would be a few I would skip, like this one:

So I'm not quite sure who the audience is supposed to be for this book.

Like Christina, I also thought some of the stories were cheesy ("When you become a ghost, feel free to haunt me.") A few of them I really liked and would love to have framed on my wall. Some uncomfortably reminded me of something Jonathan Safran Foer would write. ("If I read our story backwards, it's about how I unbroke your heart, and then we were happy until one day, you forgot about me forever.") Blech.

This is more like a collection of amusing little thoughts someone had and wrote them on little pieces of paper with doodles. Some are dumb and some are kinda cute. There isn't really anything that draws them together. I didn't love it.

Verdict: In between.

Reading Recommendations: They probably sell it at Urban Outfitters. You could just go there and read it, but then you wouldn't be supporting all the artists who contributed to it.

Warnings: Very light sexual innuendo maybe in one or two.

Favorite excerpts:

Top Ten Tuesday: Christina's Book Club Picks

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 05:00:00 +0000

pretty photo via

Ah, yes. Choosing a book for a book club is difficult, isn't it? I always feel like it's a stressful people-pleasing dilemma: it can't be too long or too difficult or too dirty or too disturbing; you have to take into account the individuals in the group- their backgrounds, interests, and comfort levels- to some extent. But then if you choose something too "safe", the group won't have anything to discuss.
I'm not sure I'm the best person to be offering advice in this department since my book group choices tend to be total flops (like the time only one person showed up for the discussion, or the time only one person finished the book because everyone else was so offended by it that they quit reading). But I'll do my best!

1. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
There's so much going on in this book: comics, WWII, Antarctica, Judaica, Dali... I could go on and on, and I'm sure I'm forgetting some major ones since it's been a few years. There's plenty to talk about. It's very smartly written, too. (And it has one of my favorite literary crushes.)

2. The History of Love by Nicole Krauss
This is a short, sweet, quick read with an unusual plot. It provides some interesting discussion points and Ms. Krauss' style is unusual enough that I think a good book group would be able to talk quite a bit about her writing; it's always nice to be able to move away from the story itself for a few minutes when you've got a good bookish discussion going.

3. Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver
I've chosen this for book clubs twice, and it has flopped both times. But I still stand by it as a good choice: It's a quick read, but there's a ton to talk about. It's got some political issues that will likely get a heated discussion going, but Kingsolver's presentation isn't too heavy-handed (though I guess that could be debated- all the better!)

4. Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
I've already mentioned Ms. Ali in my Inspirational list. This would be a great one to choose if the readers in your club enjoy discussing memoirs that deal with Real Issues. Infidel is a fascinating and eye-opening book for most Westerners, I think.

5. Atonement by Ian McEwan
I adored this book (here's my review) and if I had my druthers I'd make a bookclub read it and watch the film adaptation. Then we'd all compare our supersmart thoughts. And in that ideal world, everyone would love both the book and the movie as much as I do.

6. The Odyssey by Homer and The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood
I haven't actually read the latter yet, but I will soon. I think it'd be cool to split the book club into teams and have one team read The Odyssey and the other read The Penelopiad. Wouldn't that make for an interesting meeting?

7. Choose your own Award Winner
My mom's book club did this one month- each member chooses a different Newbery Medal book and then at the meeting each person gives a little report about the book they read. I think it's a great way to shake up the routine a little. You could do it with Pulitzer Prize winners or National Book Award winners or Nobel Prize winners.

8. Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton
I read this for a book club, and I thought it was a great selection. We discussed apartheid, Paton's beautiful writing, and the symbolism and themes of the novel. This would also be a good book to read and discuss if you're interested in the outsider-writing-about-another-culture idea.

9. All Souls: A Family Story from Southie by Michael Patrick MacDonald
This is another memoir about The Issues (in this case gun control, desegregation busing, poverty/organized crime) that makes for some excellent discussion in a book group. It's an extremely quick read that packs a punch.

10. My Mistress's Sparrow Is Dead: Great Love Stories from Chekhov to Munro edited by Jeffrey Eugenides
You thought I could write a whole post without mentioning Mr. Eugenides, right? HA! I'm reading this collection right now, and it would be a great choice for a February book club gathering. There are lots of different styles to compare and contrast, and you could have a really interesting discussion about what constitutes a love story and what doesn't.

Several of these selections are from a period when I was in a GREAT book club. We had awesome, honest discussions that were punctuated with food and drink. When I moved to Kazakhstan, the other bookclubbers gave me The Book Club Cookbook, an awesome compilation of book selections matched with recipes and profiles of real-life book clubs. If you are in a cooking book club, you've got to check it out! A lot of the choices on my list are in the cookbook.

I'm looking forward to your thoughts- have you discussed any of my picks with your book group?

Review: Hippie Boy by Ingrid Ricks

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

Reviewed by Ingrid

Published: 2011

It's about: Ingrid's parents divorced when she was young. Her mother remarries a yucky guy named Earl and her father is never around. Ingrid looks forward to the summers she spends with her father traveling across the country selling tools. Perhaps because her life at home with Earl is so difficult, Ingrid idolizes her father and loves spending time with him.

Ingrid's mother has had a difficult life and clings to her religion as a sort of buoy to keep her afloat. Earl senses this and takes advantage of her naïveté by patronizing and emotionally abusing her and her daughters. Ingrid struggles to find her sense of self within her family at home and in her relationship with her dad.

I thought: The only reason I bought this book was because the cover looked interesting, the author has the same name as me, and it was only $3.00 to buy on my kindle. Soon after I bought it I found out it was self-published, which doesn't surprise me. (The cover fooled me. Most covers of self-published books are poorly designed and have Papyrus or Comic Sans all over them.) Self-published books tend to be lower quality, mostly because no publishers will take it. I have a little bit of faith that there could be some quality self-published books out there. This, however, wasn't one of them.

This story was a huge pity fest. This is the stuff Lifetime movies are made of. (No offense Lifetime movies. I secretly watch you sometimes.) Because this book was a memoir, I want to make it clear that I totally respect Ingrid Ricks' experiences. However, I think her book was low quality. The writing was blah and uninteresting. The exaggerated characters were all good or all bad, and I had no pity for them - except for Ingrid's mom, who was so vulnerable and weak it bordered on pathetic. I felt bad for her, but not in an interesting, thought provoking way - more like in a Lifetime movie way.

Verdict: Because I felt so bad for the mom character, for some reason I feel bad putting this one in the Rubbish Bin. Let's say it's on the floor next to the rubbish bin.

Reading Recommendations: If you are an Amazon Prime member, you can read this book for free. If not, I wouldn't waste your money.

Warnings: A few mild swear words.

Excerpts:

"I took a seat on the other side of Mom and hugged her. Mom just sat and sobbed—harder than I had ever seen her. I couldn’t tell if she was crying because she was scared or had a broken heart. 'It’ll be okay,' I heard Connie say, doing her best to be the support system she always was to Mom. I wanted to agree with her but I couldn’t. Everything in the room was busted up or torn apart—just like our family. How could things ever be okay?"

What I'm reading next: Oh, I don't know. I thought I was going to read The Virgin Suicides but I think I'm going to read Middlemarch first.

Review: Love Times Three by Joe, Alina, Vicki, and Valerie Darger

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

Love Times Three: Our True Story of a Polygamous Marriage

Reviewed by Ingrid

Published: 2011

It's about: Joe Darger has three wives - Alina, Vicki, and Valerie. Along with journalist Brooke Adams (the polygamy contributor for The Salt Lake Tribune,) in this memoir they explain why they chose to live this lifestyle and attempt to debunk false notions many, if not most people have about polygamy. Because polygamy is a felony in the state of Utah, the Darger's took a big chance publishing this book. They hope that people will see that they are normal, respectable people, not criminals. They hope to someday see the decriminalization of polygamy in the state of Utah.

The Dargers also explain their religious beliefs and share details of how they organize their day-to-day lives in one house with 20+ children.

I thought: I liked this book a lot. There are so many books out there about how horrible and abusive polygamy is (with titles like Escape, Favorite Wife, The Bigamist, Prophet's Prey, Church of Lies, Stolen Innocence, etc etc.) But, as this book attests, there are also many honest, good, educated people who practice polygamy. Anything that encourages empathy and open mindedness I support 100%, so I am all over this book.

I particularly liked the little details the wives shared about their daily lives. In one chapter, Alina describes their home:

"We made decorating decisions together for the common areas of our home ... the common rooms are modestly furnished, in a traditional style and neutral colors. We let our designer talents shine in the bedrooms. Mine is traditional, with a robin's-egg blue and chocolate color scheme. Vicki's room has a Victorian look, while Val's bedroom has a beach cottage theme that uses shades of pink, green, and dusty blue."

This passage endeared the Darger family to me. I loved details like this. They're just like us, you guys! But seriously.

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf.

via Harper Collins

Reading Recommendations: If you're interested in polygamy, I highly recommend you supplement readings of other, mostly negative memoirs with this positive one. I find that reading about polygamy from multiple points of view greatly increases my understanding and empathy for those whose lifestyle I don't necessarily agree with.

If you're interested in learning more about the Darger's, check out their website or follow them on twitter. They also were on NPR to discuss their book on Talk of the Nation.

Warnings: None, trust me. These people come from a very conservative background. Though we're all curious, they don't expand at all on what goes on in the bedroom. (Though I'm a little ashamed to admit it - I'm DYING to know what the wedding night was like after Joe married Vicki and Alina on the same day.)

Favorite excerpts:
"Val, and I each believe we are Joe’s eternal soul mate. But we consider each other to be soul mates, too. It’s that belief in our female connection that drives our commitment to each other and gets us through tough times. Our friendship and love have grown over the years, to the point where the little jealousies are far outweighed by the knowledge that my sister wives always have my back."

What I'm reading next: Hippie Boy by Ingrid Ricks

Other books I've reviewed about polygamy:
Hidden Wives by Claire Avery
Daughter of the Saints by Dorothy Allred Solomon
The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall

Moby Dick Readalong: Chapters 56-93

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 20:17:00 +0000

Jan 9: Introduction

Jan 12: Chapters 1-26

Jan 19: Chapters 27-55

Jan 26: Chapters 56-93

Feb 2: Chapter 94-epilogue

Here we are at the end of chapter 93! We're getting close to the end! Here's what happened in this section:
---------------------
Ishmael tells us that he likes certain French engravings of whales and considers them quite decent. There are also depictions of whales made from other materials, such as teeth, wood, stones, and stars.

The Pequod is quite far out to sea by this time. The sea is wide and terrible, and Ishmael claims that "man has lost that sense of the full awfulness of the sea which aboriginally belongs to it." The relationship of the sea to the land is analogy to something within the self, Ishmael says, "For as this appalling ocean surounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life. God keep thee! Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return!" (Spooky.)

Oh! The great white whale is spotted in the distance! The boats are lowered, the men go after him - however, they turn back when they see a huge squid which is very bad luck. Bummer.

Ishmael describes how ropes are used on the ship. Stubb kills a sperm whale. The process of harpooning a whale is exhausting, we're told. (Reading about it can be a little exhausting too...)
Stubb eats a whale steak for dinner. Sharks gather around the freshly killed whale which is still in the water. Stubb reprimands the cook for not cooking his steak to his liking.

Ishmael discusses the whale as a dish, which parts are eaten, what they taste like, etc. Sharks continue to feed on the whale corpse in a frenzy. They seem to be possessed by devils.

The men cut the blubber from the whale using a large hook. Whales have a thick coat of blubber around their bodies to keep them warm, but around their very outside they have a thin, transparent, vulnerable skin. The big white blob of what's left of the whale is pulled alongside the ship, and Ishmael believes its ghost may be following as well. Ahab peers down the side of the ship at the head, wondering what mysteries of the sea it has seen.

The Pequod meets another ship called the Jeroboam. There is a crazy guy on this ship that says he's the angel Gabriel. There is an epidemic on this ship so they decide not to come over to the Pequod. The captain of the Jeroboam warns Ahab that the white whale is bad luck because it killed one of their men. Ahab just then realizes that he has a letter for a sailor on the Jeroboam. Oh crap, it's for the dead guy. This does not bode well.

Later, Queequeg goes into the water with the whale to cut it up. Ishmael is tied to Queequeg with a monkey rope to keep him steady. Stubb and Flask go out to kill a Right whale, because it is believed that a ship with a Sperm whale's head on one side and a Right whale's head on the other will never capsize. Ishmael describes what a Right whale's head looks like. Ishmael describes what a Sperm whale's head looks like. Also, the nature of a Sperm whale's head makes it possible for it to ram into ships. Remember this, Ishmael says. (Hmm.)

Digging for spermaceti via

The best oil in a Sperm whale is located in its head. To retrieve this oil, Tashtego goes on to the head, makes a hole in the top and lowers a bucket down with a rope. All of a sudden, Tashtego loses his balance and FALLS INTO THE WHALE. The head detaches from the hooks holding it to the ship and starts to sink. Queequeg jumps in the ocean and somehow retrieves Tashtego from inside the head.

Ishmael describes the Sperm whale's physiognomy (its face.) He then discusses its head, skull, and spine. He says that the smallness of the sperm whale's brain is compensated for by the strength of its spine.

The Pequod meets up with some German ships. When a pack of whales shows up, the ships all compete to kill the old, slow one in the back. The whale is blind and dies pathetically, then slowly starts to sink. It is an "old, meagre, and broken hearted creature." :(

Ishmael cites myths about heroes killing whales. Whaling is a noble feat, and all whalers are heroes, he says. Then he talks about Jonah and the Whale and how the story could be regarded historically.

Stubb uses a pitchpole - a lighter weapon that can be thrown long distances - to kill yet another whale. Ishmael tells us how a whale breathes through the spout on its head. He also admires the grace and beauty of the Sperm whale's powerful tail.

Now another sad part. The Pequod arrives at a still, peaceful area where whale mothers nurse their young. They accidently tangle their ropes with the umbilical cord of a mother whale. Ishmael describes whale milk and blood mixing in the water.

Ishmael describes the two groups, or schools of whales that exist. One is a group of "ladies," as Ishmael calls them, escorted by one male. The other is a group of young restless males.

Ishmael discusses the laws about whaling. In England the whale must go to the sovereign - heads to the king, tails to the queen.

The Pequod meets up with the Rose-bud, a pretentious French whale ship (whose captain used to be a parfumier, haha) that is towing a stinky dead whale corpse they found floating on the water. Stuff convinces them that this dead whale is useless because its oil is all dried up. They gladly cut it free to get rid of the nasty smell. Stubb promptly goes after this whale to retrieve ambergris from its bowels. Ambergris is an incredibly valuable substance that comes from the intestines of sick, dead whales, and is used in the perfume business. Oh, the irony.

In the last chapter of this section, Pip, one of the ship-keepers on the Pequod, ends up overboard and is left behind. He is eventually picked up again, but is never the same afterward.

------------------
Discussion

This section was much more enjoyable to me than the last section. I had heard horror stories about Melville's lengthy description of what is done with a whale once it is dead, but I was actually fascinated by those chapters. I thought it was so cool the way he described the blubber coming off in one curly piece like the rind on an orange. And I thoroughly enjoyed imagining a ship with two decapitated whale heads hanging from each side (though my mental image was much funnier than the picture I found shows).

Throughout this section, the question that kept coming to my mind was, what is Melville's purpose for writing this? What is he trying to accomplish with such a peculiar piece of writing?

At one point in this section, after a particularly lengthy love song to the nobility of whales and whaling and everything to do with the subject, I began to suspect that Melville was really just a giant nerd trying to make something nerdy seem really cool and epic, kind of like my older brother tried to make MAGIC cards seem exciting and cool. And maybe Melville just happened to succeed, and the joke's on us for placing it in the literary canon.

It's interesting that Melville seems to be taking the same tactic with characterizing the White Whale that he did for Ahab earlier in the book. He makes both of them into kind of supernatural, mythological beings by introducing Ishmael and, in turn, the reader, to each of them first with strange stories.

Before we met Ahab, we met Elijah, who talked about how strange Ahab was, and now, even though Ishmael has seen and interacted with him, he still remains a sort of phantom. We have now had several stories about Moby Dick and spotted him, but he, too, is ghost-like (and his color certainly helps that image). Plus, Melville seems to be foreshadowing the infamous whale's character as he describes its physiognomy (the peculiar shape of the head, the placement of the eyes so he sees nothing but everything, the strength of his backbone). It definitely makes me curious to meet the ole' whale.

Melville seems to be rather ambivalent about a lot of things -- we already talked about his vague beliefs toward religion. This section brought up a new one for me: whereas he usually glorifies and defends whaling, the way he describes the death of the old, blind whale is kind of heartbreaking. He says:

"So from the points which the whale's eyes had once occupied, now protruded blind bulbs, horribly pitiable to see. But pity there was none. For all his old age, and his one arm, and his blind eyes, he must die the death and be murdered, in order to light the gay bridals and other merry-makings of men, and also to illuminate the solemn churches that preach unconditional inoffensiveness by all to all."

Then, in the very next chapter, he calls whalers heroes, demigods, and prophets. What do you make of this? Can you figure out Melville's opinions about anything? Do you think he knows what he believes, or do you think he, too, is trying to figure that out? What other subjects does he seem to be ambivalent about?

Also, here crops up Jonah again. Any further thoughts on the significance of this story to this novel, or to Melville?

Next week, we finish the book and wrap up our discussion! Woohoo!

Further resources on this section:

An NPR blog has some interesting thoughts on why Melville included the lengthy comparison of the Sperm Whale's head as opposed to the Right Whale's. Read that here.

As I read this selection, I found myself getting a little confused on the geography of where the Pequod has traveled, so I googled a Moby Dick map and found this one. If you, too, want to visually follow along with Ishmael and Ahab on their exploits, check it out.

Review: The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance by Elna Baker

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 11:02:00 +0000

Reviewed by Christina

Published: 2009

It's about: In this memoir, Elna Baker recounts her adult life, most of which is spent as a single Mormon woman in New York City. It's a period during which she loses an incredible amount of weight, kisses lots and lots of boys, works various odd jobs, and tries to define her relationship with her faith.

I thought: The only real problem I have with The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance is the TERRIBLE title. It's ridiculously unwieldy and silly, and I think it oversimplifies and pigeonholes the book. I hate it so much that I'm just going to refer to the book as TNYRMSHD from here on out. (I'm also not crazy about the über girly cover.)

I can count on one hand the number of memoirs I've read that I've really related to on a personal level. Obviously every person experiences life differently, and one of the purposes of literature is to express and expose those differences. But it's also extremely gratifying to discover sameness between individuals through writing. I loved TNYRMSHD because Elna Baker is just like me! (Only, you know, much funnier and braver and more interesting.) She's a Mormon writer, yes, and being Mormon makes up a huge part of her story. But she's also not like other Mormons: she swears, she watches R-rated movies, she makes out with lots of men, and she doesn't try to hide the "bad" things she does. It was so refreshing to read her point of view, and to learn about a person who can make a joke about her roommate's strap-on and then, in the same chapter, write sincerely about a personal spiritual experience. I know not every reader loves Elna Baker, and one of the problems with any memoir is that you have to listen to the same person's voice all the way through. But I didn't get tired of her- probably because we're so alike.

I think the people who will appreciate and connect with this book most are readers who have some relationship to the Mormon faith; ex-Mormons and those extremely rare unorthodox Mormons will definitely like it most. But many of the struggles Elna expresses are universal: how can a person belong to a group while still maintaining a strong sense of self? How and when should one quiet that rebellious/stubborn streak? How can anyone believe in and love oneself, regardless of external stimuli? The overarching themes of TNYRMSHD, I think, are about the choices we make and how those choices effect our lives.

But woah, that makes this memoir sound way more serious than it really is in the page-to-page experience. It's a very funny book, and an enjoyable, quick read.

Verdict: Well, I'd stick it on the shelf. But I know Connie and Ingrid had more reserved reactions to it, so let's make it In-between.

Reading Recommendations: You can listen to her tell a story on This American Life. Or watch a video of her standup if you want to get an idea of her storytelling style and sense of humor. Both stories are in the book, too.

Warnings: The dedication pretty much sums it up:
"Mom an Dad,
I could never have done this without your faith, support, and constant encouragement. Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself, in God, and in my dreams.
This book... aside from the nine F-words, thirteen Sh-words, four A-holes, page 257, and the entire Warren Beatty chapter... is dedicated to you.
You might want to avoid chapters twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, anything I quote Mom saying, and most of the end as well.
Sorry. Am I still as cute as a button?
Love,
Elna"

Favorite excerpts: "I think most religious people experience just as much doubt as they do faith; they just don't admit it. And I don't think doubting makes you bad. I think it makes you smart."

"And I don't know why I get this way, but sometimes I feel like I am being tied by invisible ropes and that I need to flail my arms just to prove my freedom. But then there's this feeling of impending doom because I know deep down that [Mormonism] is where I come from."

What I'm reading next: My Mistress's Sparrow is Dead: Great Love Stories from Chekhov to Munro, edited by Jeffrey Eugenides

Top 10 Books Connie's Started but Never Finished

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 18:35:00 +0000

I was so excited to do a top 10 this week of whatever I want. I have been wanting to do this list for a while, and it was nearly impossible to narrow it down to only ten. See, I have so many books I want to read that if I start reading one that I just can't stand, it doesn't bother me to stop reading it and move on to something else. But then I don't feel right about reviewing them, since I didn't read the whole thing, and that wouldn't be fair. So they just hang out in this middle space in my mind, and I just need to tell you why I quit them. So here are 10 books I gave up on.

10. The Hangman's Daughter by Oliver Potzsch-- This book was all the rage last year, but once the daughter turned into some stereotype of a girl who's obsessed with male attention, I got annoyed and quit reading, even though it's one of the few full-priced books I've bought for my Kindle.

9. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith -- For some reason or other, I just couldn't get into this book, which is in total contradiction of Ingrid's top ten last week, when she said that anyone could. Maybe it was just the timing. I'll probably try it again some day.

8. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston -- I think I need to get an audiobook of this one. I am a fast reader, so reading in very strong dialect annoys me because it forces me to read too slowly. I think I'd like it otherwise.

7. Bossypants by Tina Fey -- I was prepared to love this book, but I gave up after a few chapters when it just became all about how it's ridiculous that gay marriage isn't legal nationwide. It was seriously like 5 of the first 6 chapters. Sure, you can write your opinion about it, but don't try to pawn it off as a comedic memoir. I still love you though, Tina Fey.

6. Moby Dick by Herman Melville, though I'm hoping to remedy that right now with our Moby Dick read-along. And let me tell you, if it weren't for this read-along, I probably would have quit again, probably when Melville all of a sudden started writing a play about random sailors.

5. A Million Little Pieces by James Frey -- I was right in the middle of this one when it came out about it all being totally made up, which was annoying, so I ditched it. The writing style was pretentious, anyway.

4. The Two Towers by JRR Tolkein -- I know, crucify me. I got weary of alllll the lengthy descriptions of nature or of a gate or whatnot, even though I loved The Hobbit and enjoyed Fellowship.

3. All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy -- I enjoyed The Road so much, I was really excited to read another McCarthy, but boy oh boy was I bored.

2. A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah -- I feel terrible admitting this. It makes me sound like a terrible person, but even though I am really interested in learning about the various revolutions in Africa and have even hosted fundraisers to help child soldiers escape, I couldn't finish this book. The premise is very appealing, but because English is not Beah's native tongue, he uses a ton of cliches to describe his experience, which made it difficult to find it very compelling. That makes me a total snob, doesn't it. For example, this is not necessarily directly from the book (though it could be), he might say something like when he and his brother got separated, he felt his heart break. Man, it feels worse admitting this than I expected, but, well, there it is. I have crazy respect for the guy and what he's gone through and what he has subsequently made of himself, but I wasn't very impressed with the book, she says sheepishly.

1. Twilight by Stephanie Meyer -- Yes, I am a proud Twilight non-reader. It only took me about two pages to realize how terrible the writing was and how dumb I was going to find the rest of the book. So why continue? Non-Twilighters, unite!

I met Margaret Atwood!

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 18:09:00 +0000

Hi all, Ingrid here - guess what, last weekend I met Margaret Atwood!!

I bought a copy of The Edible Woman and she signed it for me. The other books of hers I've read are The Handmaid's Tale, The Blind Assassin, and Surfacing. For a long time I told everyone she was my favorite author, but it's been so long since I've read her that she has, unfortunately, been slipping from my radar. I can't wait to start on The Edible Woman. I also own Alias Grace and Cat's Eye, which I'm also looking forward to.

What is your favorite book by Margaret Atwood? Do you adore her as much as I do?

Review: Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 11:00:00 +0000

Look! The WHOLE cover! (via)

Reviewed by Ingrid

Published: 2002

It's about: Cal Stephanides is a hermaphrodite. He begins his story with his grandparents (who were also siblings!), when they left their home in Turkey as immigrants to Detriot in the 1920s. Cal follows them as they settle into their new lives and have a son, Cal's dad Milton. He follows Milton and his mom Tessie through their lives. About halfway through the book, Cal is born and begins his narrative. Yeah. This summary doesn't really do the book justice. Here's the summary on Goodreads. This book is hard to summarize.

I thought:
Just like all y'all, I loved this book. Cal was such a charismatic and loveable narrator. I loved Eugenides' cinematic style. I read/listened to the audiobook of Eugenides most recent novel The Marriage Plot last month, and I was surprised and delighted by how different this book was. Absolutely a sign of a great writing.

I have to thank Christina for her excellent reviews of Jeffrey Euginides two other books, The Virgin Suicides and The Marriage Plot, which convinced me to finally read Middlesex - Eugenides' most popular book (and which, if you are familiar with the book blogosphere, is constantly being raved about.)

Now, Christina and I often have similar taste, but there is one important place where we diverge. We've discussed this a few times. In this story, Eudenides inserts a few little quirky details and moments that are not magical, but definitely do not feel "realistic." (The one that stuck out to me was when Cal's dad would play songs on his clarinet up against his mom's skin, and this, supposedly, is how they fell in love.)

I realize that because this is a novel, it's ok for authors to insert details like this - they are creating their own little world, after all, in which anything can happen. Because of the nature of fiction, every author of any fictional work is inherently asking the reader for a suspension of disbelief. Every reader has a different threshold, however, and mine just happens to be very low. (Great discussion of suspension of disbelief here, if you're interested.)

One author who masters these moments is Jonathan Safran Foer, whom I strongly dislike. Christina loves him, though, and I respect that. We decided to call these quirkly little moments "Foerish" moments. I'm not a fan. Christina is. What do you think?

Moving beyond this, though, I was extremely impressed with Eugenides' style. It felt like a movie - the narrative zoomed in and out, there were montages, moments when time went backwards and sped forward. It was cool and it kept me interested, even when the story wasn't at its most excited moments. Very impressive.

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf. Besides the few Foerish moments, I loved the rest of the book. It's going straight on the shelf.

Reading Recommendations: Pick this one up if you feel like you need a new favorite book.

Warnings: Meh. There's some sex and stuff. I think there's a few swear words.

Favorite excerpts:
"The streets were still full of trees, bare in winter, so that we could see all the way to the frozen river. I was thinking how amazing it was that the world contained so many lives. Out in these streets people were embroiled in a thousand matters, money problems, love problems, school problems. People were falling in love, getting married, going to drug rehab, learning how to ice-skate, getting bifocals, studying for exams, trying on clothes, getting their hair cut, and getting born. And in some houses people were getting old and sick and were dying, leaving others to grieve. It was happening all the time, unnoticed, and it was the thing that really mattered."

"Aside from their blinding brightness, there was another odd thing about Milton's home movies: like Hitchcock, he always appeared in them. The only way to check the amount of film left in the camera was by reading the counter inside the lens. In the middle of Christmas scenes or birthday parties there always came a moment when Milton's eye would fill the screen. So that now, as I quickly try to sketch my early years, what comes back most clearly is just that: the brown orb of my father's sleepy, bearish eye. A postmodern touch in our domestic cinema, pointing up artifice, calling attention to mechanics. (And bequeathing me my aesthetic.) Milton's eye regarded us. It blinked. An eye as big as the Christ Pantacrator's at church, it was better than any mosaic. It was a living eye, the cornea a little bloodshot, the eyelashes luxuriant, the skin underneath coffee-stained and pouchy."

What I'm reading next: The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides. Can't get enough of him!

Moby Dick Read-Along: Chapters 27-55

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:54:00 +0000

Here we are, our second discussion post. Pat yourself on the back, guys, you're now half way through the book. (That seems like something a middle school teacher would say.)

Here is our readalong reading schedule with links to our past posts:

Jan 9: Introduction

Jan 12: Chapters 1-26

Jan 19: Chapters 27-55

Jan 26: Chapters 56-93

Feb 2: Chapter 94-epilogue

Let's summarize:

Ishmael introduces us to the first and second mate, Stubb and Flask, as well as the other harpooners and sailors on the ship which include an American Indian from Martha's Vineyard and a big black guy from Africa. After this, Ahab FINALLY emerges from the cabin and into the light. Oh and he has a peg leg made from a whale bone. He likes to walk along the side of the ship at night and his peg leg makes a lot of annoying noise, but Ahab will not be told what to do, so everyone just deals with it. Ahab smokes a pipe, then throws it into a sea. Stubb has a dream that he shouldn't bug Ahab.

In chapter 32, we are given an extensive and fascinating tour through the history of whale scholarship, called "Cetology." Ishmael tells us that the most general way to categorize a whale is that it is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail.

In old-times, the chief Harpooner was in charge of everything to do with the actual whales on a whale ship, but now it's the captain. Speaking of the captain, he eats with the crew in his cabin, which comes with its own set of protocol which we discover in detail. (Poor Flask. "However it was, Flask, alas! was a butterless man!").

Ishmael describes what it's like to be on duty on the mast-head as a look out. He isn't very good at this, because he always becomes lost in his own thoughts as he stares out at the ocean for hours at a time.

Next, something finally happens. (Ha! A change of pace!) Ahab calls the whole crew to assemble on the quarter-deck. He tells them all to be on sharp lookout for a great white whale, one called Moby Dick. Whatever lucky guy spots him first will be the recipient of a Spanish gold piece, courtesy of Captain Ahab.

After this, Ahab gazes out of his cabin on the sunset, overcome with his desire to kill Moby Dick. He realizes he can never appreciate anything beautiful or happy because he just wants to kill this whale. So. Bad.

Starbuck and Stuff aren't too excited about Ahab's obsession with this dumb whale.

Then, there is some sort of play with sailors from around the world ... not sure what that was all about.

*Inhale.* Ishmael describes Moby Dick so we readers can better visualize what all this fuss is about. Moby Dick is big, he is white, and he has a hump on his back. Ishmael tells us how exactly Moby Dick got Ahab's leg and subsequently how Ahab was driven mad with his desire to kill the whale in revenge.

Chapter 42 is perhaps one of the most famous chapters of this book. It is entitled "The Whiteness of the Whale." Ishmael tells us all about the color white, how it can be a most frightening characteristic to be of this color. (This is actually a pretty cool chapter. But I'm on a roll here. Moving on.)

Next chapter, someone hears a noise. Next chapter, Ahab has lots of charts and maps he studies for hours every night. We are told it's not uncommon for a particular whaling ship to come upon the same whale multiple times. Ishmael and Queequeg weave a mat together. Someone sees some whales in the distance! They try to get one but fail. Ishmael is shaken and crawls up into fetal position. (JK he doesn't, but he probably did.) Queequeg assures him that it's normal to try to kill a whale and not get it.

Five mysterious men show up. One has a turban and is named Fedallah.

Every few nights, the crew start to see a whale blowing water in the distance. They get excited. They pass another ship called The Albatross. Ahab calls across to them and asks if they've seen the white whale. He doesn't get an answer.

A "gam" is when two whaling ships meet up and hang out. This is common. The Pequod comes upon another ship called The Albatross and has a gam with it. They hear a crazy story about a whale that ate one of their guys.

There are many religious and scientific paintings and pictures of whales, but they always get it wrong. To truly know what a whale looks like, you have to go whaling yourself. *Exhale.*

------------------------------------

Whew! This section was a lot more disjointed than the first 25 chapters. Allie suggests reading each chapter as if it's its own little story. As I kept this in mind reading came easier for me. I'm actually quite used to these strange little chapters now, and I like them. Especially when Melville nerds out in the chapter on Cetology. I thought that was cute. Maybe "endearing"is a better word. I don't know if Melville would like being called cute.

I absolutely loved the chapter on the whiteness of the whale. "It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me," Ishmael tells us. I never thought of white as a particularly freaky color, but now I know its true freakiness. I had always associated it with virgins, holiness, and the like.

"...Yet for all these accumulated associations, with whatever is sweet, and honorable, and sublime, there yet lurks an elusive something in the innermost idea of this hue, which strikes more of panic to the soul than that redness which affrights blood." Yikes. It's all in the contrast, apparently.

What do you think of the disjointed chapters? Did they distract you from experiencing the story, or did they enhance your overall understanding of the whaler's experience?

I found Stubb's dream about Captain Ahab rather interesting. In it, Stubbs says to himself,

"No, you were kicked by a great man, and with a beautiful ivory leg, Stubb. It's an honour; I consider it an honour...BE kicked by him; account his kicks honours; and on no account kick back."

Do you think this is just jibberish, a strange dream, or is there some hidden meaning in this?

At the end of the Cetology chapter, Melville makes an interesting comment:

"For small erections may be finished by their first architects; grand ones, true ones, ever leave the copestone to posterity. God keep me from ever completing anything. This whole book is but a draught -- nay, but the draught of a draught."

What do you think Melville means by this? How does he want "posterity" to finish his work?

What was your favorite chapter? What were some of your favorite quotes? What other thoughts do you have on this section of reading? I'm not very good at coming up with probing questions.

Discuss.

As a side note, have you ever seen anyone use the word "leviathan" so many times?? I'm pretty sure we've come across this word used as every single part of speech. I mean, Leviathanism?

Review: Science Ink by Carl Zimmer

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 11:36:00 +0000

Reviewed by Christina
[I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.]

Published: 2011

Full Title: Science Ink: Tattoos of the Science Obsessed

It's about: After noticing a small but significant DNA tattoo on a scientist friend, journalist Carl Zimmer put out a call for science tattoos on his blog, The Loom. The response was huge, and Science Ink is the result: a compilation of over 300 science-y tattoos with a photo and explanation for each.

I thought: I LOVED this book. My life has been terribly busy lately, and Science Ink provided the right distraction every time I sat down to read it: equal parts ogling voyeurism and intelligent science talk.

Firstly, it is beautifully put together. It has the size and build of a small textbook or expensive yearbook. All the photos are in color, many of them full-page, and they've been tastefully enhanced (the color saturated and edges darkened for a sort of vignette effect). The photo editing gives the book unity, which wasn't something I expected given the premise.

If you're interested in the stories behind tattoos, or if you're looking for an enjoyable way to learn a little about science, you'll dig Science Ink. Mr. Zimmer explains concepts very clearly; each blurb explains not only the "what" of each tattoo, but the "why." I'm not surprised he's such a successful science writer, and I'd love to read more by him. There's also an amusing foreword by another of my favorite science journalists, Mary Roach.

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf!

Reading Recommendations: Obviously there's no overarching story here, so this would be a good one to pick up every now and then when you're between books. You could display it on your coffee table, but be careful not to spill anything on it! It's way too beautiful to be a coaster.

Apparently there's also a collection of literary tattoos called The Word Made Flesh. Want! I wish someone would do one for music tattoos. I could be in it.

Warnings: none

Favorite excerpts: There are lots of slideshows and photos available online. Here's the NYT one. One of my favorites is number four in that series, Passionflower. Here are some other cool ones:

Top Ten Tuesday: Ingrid's Recs for Occasional Readers

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 05:00:00 +0000

Photo via Mint Tea and a Good Book

Top Ten Tuesday! My list this week is top ten books for occasional readers. I have a lot of extroverted friends who have many other fun, interesting things in their lives besides books. These friends only read occasionally, maybe a book every month or every few months.

Friends, this list is for you. These are books I can almost guarantee will grab your attention and that you will enjoy all the way to the end. These are the kind of books you won't want to put down.

It's going to be a quick one this week. Here we go. (Links to my reviews.)

Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
The Girl's Guide to Homelessness by Briana Karp
Freedom by Jonathon Franzen
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
Almost French by Sarah Turnbull
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden
Abundance: A Novel of Marie Antoinette by Sena Jeter Naslund

What books would you recommend to an occasional reader?

Downton Abbey and Gone with the Wind

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

Posted by Connie

How many of you are addicted to Masterpiece Classic's award-winning series, Downton Abbey? I know I'm not the only one. It ensnared us last season with the very first episode, when the sinking of the Titanic left a noble English abbey without a direct heir (as the current Lord Crawley has only -- gasp! -- three daughters, who cannot inherit).

This past Sunday began season two, bringing the residents of Downton Abbey as well as the rest of England into World War I, and there is no character that remains untouched by the trenches.

As I have been watching this recently, I cannot help but compare it to one of my favorite books (even if Chioma didn't like it), Gone With the Wind. Both illustrate the effects of war and chronicle the end of an era by following one previously privileged family, allowing the reader or viewer to experience the changes more personally.

In Gone with the Wind, the O'Haras are rich, slave-owning plantation owners in Georgia. At the beginning of the novel, at the very end of the Southern Aristocracy's rule, Scarlett and her sister think only of what balls to attend and how many beaux they can acquire.

Similarly, Downton Abbey begins with the wealthy, aristocratic Crawley family, whose three daughters' primary concerns involve marriage and maintaining their wealth after their father's future passing. In place of slaves, Lord Crawley's family employs an entire staff of servants, who live separately in another part of the house and work night and day to maintain the status and respectability of the abbey and its family.

I think it can easily be argued that both have very similar themes. Both demonstrate a love for the land that will eventually die out in both societies. Gerald O'Hara constantly expresses his love for Tara plantation, which Scarlett does not originally understand, though she comes to feel the same love later. Lord Crawley loves Downton Abbey so much that he is unwilling to pursue legal actions to separate his wife's money from his, because he fears that the land will be split in the process.

Both also investigate the social changes that accompany their respective wars, particularly through the slaves and servants. In Gone With the Wind, when the war begins and the slaves are freed, we see the field hands abandon Tara without any attachment, while the house servants stay with the family out of loyalty. You see a similar tension in Downton Abbey. The higher status servants, so to speak, such as the head butler, Carson, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, are fiercely loyal to the Crawleys. The younger and lesser status servants, however, such as the maids and footmen, are happy to leave for other jobs and openly talk about being equal to the aristocracy.

We come at last to our heroines. I can't help but see the similarities between Mary Crawley, the eldest of the Crawley daughters, and Scarlett O'Hara. For Mary, especially in season one, life is a game of attracting the richest and most desirable man. She flits from beau to beau on a whim, and she even steals a suitor from her less attractive younger sister, just as Scarlett O'Hara steals Frank Kennedy from Suellen. Both are beautiful and privileged, driven by pride and a desire to maintain their status of living.

They are foolish and selfish, and both fail to recognize until too late that the man she loves is not the man she had always fantasized about, but rather the man who is her equal.

There is no sequel to Gone with the Wind, so whether there is hope for Scarlett and Rhett will only ever be left to our imaginations. As for Mary, well, we've only just started season two.

Moby Dick Read-Along: Chapters 1-26

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 18:06:00 +0000

Well, here we are at the end of chapter 26! (Right? If you're not caught up yet, just come back to this post when you are. It's not going anywhere.)

Each week, we'll offer a summary of what has happened in the book so far, a few discussion questions and our thoughts. Feel free to add your own questions, answers, or general thoughts in the comments or on your own blog. If you leave the link to your post in the comments we'll add it at the bottom of the post.

Next week, we'll be reading chapters 29-55.

Ok. So here's what's happened so far:
--------------------------------------
In chapter one, we meet our narrator, and are invited to call him Ishmael. Ishmael loves the ocean. Or, rather, he explains that to him, going to sea is his alternative to suicide. That's kind of the same as "love," right?

Our new friend Ishmael begins his story. Once upon a time, Ishmael decided to go a-whaling. He used to work on a merchant ship, but that work just wasn't doing it for him anymore and now he wants to kill whales like a real man. On his way to Nantucket, Ishmael stops in New Bedford, where he finds a gloomy old inn to stay for the night. Actually, the inn-keeper informs him there is really no room in the inn, unless he wants to share a bed with a Harpooner. Ishmael hesitantly agrees, and this is how he meets Queequeg, a tattooed cannibal. Ishmael and Queequeg are fast friends and snuggle into bed together for the night. In the morning, Ishmael eats breakfast then visits a church with a strange pulpit and a peculiar chaplain. He listens to a sermon on Jonah and the whale.

Ishmael and Queequeg pal around, hug, and smoke together. That night, as they lay in bed together, Queequeg tells Ishmael about his island and how he came to be a harpooner. The next day, the two set out for Nantucket where all the whaling ships set out from. While on the schooner, Queequeg throws a man up in the air, then saves him when he falls in the water. Queequeg is a hero. Ishmael likes him even more.

They arrive at Nantucket, which is flat, sandy, and has no trees. Ishmael and Queequeg stay at an inn and eat delicious chowder. Queequeg tells Ishmael that his wooden idol told him that Ishmael must choose which ship they should sign up for, so Ishmael chooses the Pequod. He goes aboard meets the owners of the ship - Bildad and Peleg.

When he comes back, Ishmael finds the door to his and Queegueg's inn room locked. He freaks out and thinks that Queequeg is dead. Once he breaks open the door, Ishmael finds Queequeg sitting calmly and worshiping his idol for Ramadan. Ishmael tells Queequeg that his pagan ways are silly and that he should abandon them. Queequeg doesn't respond. Ishmael assumes that Queequeg just can't see outside his own point of view.

The next day, Queequeg also signs up for the Pequod. He and Ishmael meet a stranger named Elijah who warns them about the ships mysterious captain Ahab whose leg was bitten off by a whale.

The Pequod is stocked with provisions and ready to set sail. On Christmas day, the ship goes to sea. Ishmael has still to meet Ahab, who has not come up from below deck. Ishmael goes on a rant about how great and important whaling is, then describes the ship's chief mate Starbuck.
---------------------------------

Soo ... Connie and I noticed that this book starts out kind of, well, boring. Ishmael does not spare us any details. After awhile, though, I started to kinda like the short, contained chapters. It's easier to keep ahold of what's going on especially with those handy chapter titles. It started to grow on me, also (Connie).

How about Ishmael and Queequeg's relationship? Weird, right? Do you think their friendship is genuine? I thought there was quite a bit of homoerotic tension between Ishmael and Queequeg. I'd heard this before about the book, but I wasn't expecting it to be so strong ... it was almost distracting. Do you think Melville meant to do this?

I also noticed that there are a lot of polarities in this narrative. An obvious one is the constant descriptions of both physical and metaphorical light and dark. Why do you think Melville uses polarities like this? I think he does it to echo the Manichean rhetoric of the Bible. Not sure why yet. But yeah. Just a thought.

In chapter 24, Ishmael passionately defends whaling. From our point of view here in 2012, when we no longer use whale oil for light and whales are endangered, what did you think of this chapter?

How did you like Ishmael's narration? Did you like or dislike the fact that he goes off on tangents? I both liked and disliked it. The things Ishmael chooses to tell us say a lot about his character. Often he'll state his opinion, then do the opposite. For example, he says he isn't judgmental of paganism, then proceeds to tell Queequeg that his worshipping is over the top and his religion is silly. Come on, Ishmael.

Something that really stood out to me in these chapters was Melville's religious commentary. You could hardly read a page without some biblical allusion or discussion of Christianity versus Paganism. What do you think he's trying to say about religion?

I think he criticizes Christianity to a certain extent, or at least self-righteous, ignorant Christians, who assume non-Christians are going to hell, even though they themselves don't love and serve their fellow men. He says of Queequeg,

"For all his tatooings he was on the whole a clean, comely looking cannibal. What's all this fuss I have been making about, thought I to myself -- the man's a human being just as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me, as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian."

Then, when he saves the sailor who had mocked him from drowning, he says that Queequeg

"seemed to be saying to himself-- 'It's a mutual, joint-stock world, in all meridians. We cannibals must help these Christians.'"

I marked a lot more quotes like these, so if you are interested, I will share some in the comments.

Furthermore, what do you make of the recounting of Jonah and the whale? What do you think Melville is trying to say about whaling, or about Christianity, by spending so much time recounting this particular Bible story? Or is it merely long because Melville is obviously a fan of great detail and not in a hurry to get through any part of the book?

After telling the story, the preacher says that he does not tell the story "to be copied for his sin" but to advertise him as "a model for repentance." And he describes Jonah's repentance as "not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment." Is this Melville's personal belief? Is it in some way foreshadowing? I found this part very intriguing; I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

I also appreciated Melville's humor. It really broke up the lengthy narrative. What were some of your favorite lines? One of mine was this:

"The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvelous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!"

All right, this is plenty long for one post! We look forward to discussing this further with you in the comments, and don't forget, next week will be through chapter 55.

Your thoughts:

Melissa @ Avid Reader

Shelley @ Book Clutter

Lu @ Regular Rumination

Katie @ Old English Rose

Jerikavonalexandra @ A Very Disoriented Reader

Review: The Glass Harmonica by Dorothee E. Kocks

noreply@blogger.com (Christina) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 11:59:00 +0000

Reviewed by Christina
[I received a complimentary copy of this book from a publicist in exchange for an honest review.]

Published: 2011

Full Title: The Glass Harmonica: a Sensualist's Tale

It's about: This historical novel opens in Corsica near the end of the 18th century. Chjara Vallé is a young peasant girl who shows unusual musical and intellectual gifts as well as a shocking lack of modesty and a touch of rebellion. As a teenager she is sent to Paris to nurse an aging opium addict, and it's there, during the years immediately following the French Revolution, that she discovers a tantalizing new instrument: the glass harmonica.

In Paris Chjara also meets and falls in love with a Puritan-born American, Henry. Henry finds himself attending several clandestine gatherings where gentlemen pretend to make a study of sex; these eye-opening events give him the inspiration for a business venture which he keeps secret from Chjara. She accompanies him to New England and they spend their lives balancing and defining virtue and pleasure, sensuality and restraint, society and alienation.

I thought: Historical fiction about music and late Puritans and sexual freedom? What's not to like?

Yes, I enjoyed The Glass Harmonica very much. The prose didn't blow me away, but it is pleasantly descriptive and artful. It serves as a fitting conduit for an exciting story stuffed full of historical trivia about the performing arts, especially Phantasmagoria, Harlequins, and, of course, period instruments. There are also some interesting recurring themes as Chjara and Henry try to reconcile their sensual natures with the virtues imposed by religions of the period.

The book is quite steamy; more so than most other literary novels I read. But Ms. Kocks is a historian and I felt she remained true to the period in her depictions of erotic love. She doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination, but it's not vulgar either. I had a hard time letting myself believe certain plot elements, especially Chjara's casual promiscuity and the idea that a teenage peasant speaks six languages. But then, I'm not a historian. And I have read a couple of other books (The Coquette, A Midwife's Tale) that back up the idea that not everybody in post-revolutionary America was living chastely. I guess there's no harm in exaggerating that idea a little to fill out a character.

Verdict: Stick it on the shelf!

Reading Recommendations: Here's an excellent review at the History News Network.
And you should watch/hear this:

Warnings: sex, and lots of it

Favorite excerpts: (opening paragraph)
"On the morning Chjara Vallé quickened in her mother's womb, the sun reached its red fingers over the Mediterranean Sea, onto the shore of Bastia, Corsica. Light rose up the cathedral's bell tower, which recently had been painted apricot. Chjara's mother swept the courtyard - feet swollen, breasts like anchors. Inside the cathedral, five men stood with shoulders together and eyes closed, rehearsing the chant for the dead, their voices resonating against the stone walls."

What I'm reading next: Science Ink by Carl Zimmer

Group Review: The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

noreply@blogger.com (ConnieGirl) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 19:21:00 +0000

Reviewed by Connie, Christina, and Ingrid

Published: 1970

It's about: The Bluest Eye is a year in the life of Pecola Breedlove, a poor black girl from a disfunctional family in Lorain, Ohio. After her father tries to burn down the Breedlove home, Pecola lives with the MacTeers; Claudia MacTeer, Pecola's classmate, tells part of the story. A third-person narrator fills in the backstory and the rest of Pecola's year from the perspectives of various townspeople.

During this pivotal year, Pecola is verbally, physically, or sexually abused by almost every person with whom she has contact. Picking up on social and media cues, Pecola comes to believe that people treat her badly because she is ugly. She wishes more than anything for her eyes to turn blue, making her beautiful and, she believes, placing her above the continual reproach she feels from all sides.

Connie thought: The first few pages of this book blew me away. The quality of writing was incredible, and it carried such an emotional impact, I had to take a break after reading those first 4 pages. After a beginning like that, I was expecting big things from this book. Unfortunately, though, the rest of the book wasn't as skilfully done as the introduction. Though Morrison's writing in this book is undeniably good, the goal of the book seems more ambitious than her abilities at the time could keep up with. The edition I read contains an afterword by Morrison, written in 1993, more than twenty years after the book is published. I was impressed with how fairly and accurately she analyzes her own work, and I found her opinion to be spot on how I felt about the book:

"One problem was centering: the weight of the novel's inquiry on so delicate and vulnerable a character could smash her and lead readers into the comfort of pitying her rather than into an interrogation of themselves for the smashing. My solution-- break the narrative into parts that had to be reassembled by the reader -- seemed to me a good idea, the execution of which does not satisfy me now. Besides, it didn't work: many readers remain touched but not moved."

Touched, but not moved. That pretty much sums up my reaction. It was an interesting read, but not as moving and revolutionary as I was hoping for. Actually, I found the afterword more intriguing and enlightening than the novel itself, though I suppose it's a catch-22, as the afterword wouldn't make much sense unless you had read the book.

Christina thought: I'm going to disagree with Connie: I think Ms. Morrison was too hard on herself in the forward. I was moved and troubled by this book, and I thought it worked very well. I don't think I'd change anything about it; the incredible writing, the way Pecola's story is told from the outside in, the way almost every character has an explanatory backstory, the way the year unfolds almost as a community's story as much as an individual's. I found this novel very affecting; every time I sat down to read I had to prepare myself for an emotional experience. Weeks after finishing it I'm still thinking about the issues raised by The Bluest Eye and trying to identify my own racial and class prejudices, especially as they relate to beauty.

I love Ms. Morrison's apt and original similes: "Her voice was like an earache in the brain." And "... the unquarreled evening hung like the first note of a dirge in sullenly expectant air."

But can I really say I loved this book? No. The consistently intense and bleak outlook is important, real, and raw. I'm not sorry I read The Bluest Eye and I liked it one million times better than Beloved. But the experience of reading Toni Morrison isn't a pleasant one for me. She challenges my world view, my stubborn belief that most people are good and nice.

Ingrid thought: Hello. I think I had a different edition than Connie and Christina, because mine didn't have this incredible forward they're talking about. I kind feel left out :(. Anyway, my only experience with Morrison before The Bluest Eye was when I read Beloved in high school. Unlike Christina, Beloved absolutely blew me away. I particularly remember a scene near the beginning of Beloved where a group of white farmers (I think) are ripping open and eating husks of corn from the field, an act paralleling their raping young black girls who work for them. It was the most chill-inducing, incredibly sickening and impressively written passage I think I've ever read. Though I was again impressed with Morrison's writing in The Bluest Eye, it just didn't have the same kind of force as Beloved. The violent scenes in The Bluest Eye were a little more blatant in their description and more obvious in their meaning for the book, so I don't think they were as effective and as powerful as the violent scenes in Beloved.

Verdict: In-between

Reading Recommendations: Well, this is more of a watching recommendation, but it's related: this small, informal study in which children choose to play with either a black doll or a white doll makes me question how far we've really come since The Bluest Eye was written more than 40 years ago.

Warnings: swears, sexual violence

Favorite excerpts:
"Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another -- physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion."

"I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry and I see summer- its dust and lowering skies. It remains for me a season of storms. The parched days and sticky nights are undistinguished in my mind, but the storms, the violent sudden storms, both frightened and quenched me. But my memory is uncertain; I recall a summer storm in the town where we lived and imagine a summer my mother knew in 1929. There was a tornado that year, she said, that blew away half of south Lorain. I mix up her summer with my own. Biting the strawberry, thinking of storms, I see her. A slim young girl in a pink crepe dress. One hand is on her hip; the other lolls about her thigh- waiting. The wind swoops her up, high above the houses, but she is still standing, hand on hip. Smiling. The anticipation and promise in her lolling hand are not altered by the holocaust. In the summer tornado of 1929, my mother's hand is unextinguished. She is strong, smiling, and relaxed while the world falls down about her. So much for memory. Public fact becomes private reality, and the seasons of a Midwestern town become the Moirai of our small lives."

A Classics Challenge: Ingrid encounters Edith Wharton

noreply@blogger.com (IngridLola) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 03:26:00 +0000

Edith herself.

Oh, hey! Remember when Connie and I signed up for A Classics Challenge for 2012? Well ... it's 2012 now and the challenge has begun. Katherine at November's Autumn has posted the prompt here. And now I shall answer it.

The book I chose to read this month, which also happened to appear in the number one spot on my list, was The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. Technically I started reading this book right after Christmas, but I DID finish it in January of 2012 on the beaches of Hawaii where I vacationed just last week. So I'm pretty sure it counts for this challenge.

Technically I think I'm just supposed to answer the questions from Level 4, since I finished the book, but I don't want to miss out on all the fun from the first three levels. So I'm just going to answer random questions from each level that I like.

Who is the author? Oh - well that would be Edith Wharton, of course. I didn't know much about her before I read this book, besides that she was awesome, was friends with Henry James, and had visitors come talk to her while she laid in bed.

What does she look like? Furs, fancy dress (which I imagine has a bustle,) and hair that reminds me of the name "Cordelia."

Edith Wharton's handwriting. (via)

Where was she born? In January of 1862, Edith Wharton was born as Edith Newbold Jones in New York City, where she lived most of her early life.

What does her handwriting look like? I like this question. See photo to the left.

What other novels has she written? Edith Wharton wrote more than 20 novels, many short stories, and even some non-fiction. Her most well-known works are The House of Mirth (1905), Ethan Frome (1911), Summer (1917), and The Age of Innocence (1920).

What is an interesting and random fact from her life? Apparently, the phrase "Keeping up with the Joneses" was said to refer to her father's family.

What do you think of her writing style? I like it, I can appreciate it. My favorite writing style is something between Virgina Woolf and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. But if Edith Wharton wrote like them, she wouldn't have been so distinctly her. Her style is clear and articulate, but not too sparse and not too wordy. In The Age of Innocence, her descriptions move between objects in the room to social protocol to inner thoughts of the main character, Newland Archer. Since much of this novel is social commentary, she often slips in gentle yet somewhat snide descriptions of situations that I thought were both amusing and sad, such as in this quote:

They went up to the library for coffee, and Archer lit a cigar and took down a volume of Michelet. He had taken to history in the evenings since May had shown a tendency to ask him to read a lound whenever she wasy him with a volume of poetry: not that he disliked the sound of his own voice, but because he could always foresee her comments on what he read. In the days of their engagement she had simply (as he now perceived) echoes what he had told her; but since he had ceased to provide her with opinions she had begun to hazard her own, with results destructive to his enjoyments of the works commented on.

Hehe. I like that. I find it interesting that Wharton is able to be critical of upper-class society while at the same time very compassionate to her characters.

Why do you think she wrote this novel? How did her contemporaries view it? That is an interesting question. My copy of The Age of Innocence had an awesome introduction that claimed the novel was greatly influenced by Wharton's experiences during World War I. As we all learned in history class, this war caused a great shift in cultures around the world, but especially in American culture. We most often associate authors like Fitzgerald and Hemingway (i.e. The Lost Generation) with this grand disillusionment after the war, but Wharton was there too - she had experienced life as an adult in society before and after the war. She understand both the old ways and the new ways, which, as my introduction claims, led to "a more complex understanding of the human condition and a more fully developed sense of compassion."

I'm not sure, but I think her contemporaries responded positively to her work, judging by the fact that The Age of Innocence won the Pulitzer prize in 1921.

That was fun! My next classic I'll be reading for this challenge will be Moby Dick (for which we are hosting a readalong this month. An intro post goes up on Monday.) Can't wait for next month's prompt!