The Rebel Reader

Love Me Some Lincoln!

2012-11-08T05:49:00.000-05:00

All this election year hoopla has inspired me to check out books on past presidents and their leading ladies. Here I visit one of my favorites, Abraham Lincoln, who, according to a few biographies I've read on the guy, hated being called Abe. Whatever name you want to give him now, this man undeniably had a way with talking simply but strikingly. Not saying the guy was perfect or that every decision he made was brilliant... how could you say that about anyone? But man, to read back on even basic letters he wrote to people, one can find some touching, inspiring words! Most recently, I've read Abraham Lincoln: Theologian Of American Anguish by Elton Trueblood. Gotta say, the title alone intrigued me. Considering the title, I actually didn't get into this book for any Christian reasoning. I looked at it as another sort of history book. And it did not disappoint!

I had the Carl Sandburg Lincoln books when I was a kid {sadly, they got ruined while in storage at my parents' place years ago :-( } but had never come across this title before. This copy I have now was actually in a box of books one of my friends had pulled from a house that he helped clear out. He nearly threw them in the dumpster but I got the box from him, realizing when I got home that I had an autographed copy! Always a bonus :-)

author Elton Trueblood - from mises.org:
"David Elton Trueblood (1900–1994) was a noted 20th-century American Quaker author and theologian, former chaplain both to Harvard and Stanford universities."

At only 141 pages, this is a pretty easy, entertaining read -- easily done in an afternoon or evening lounging at home (if you're so lucky to have those :-D ). I didn't find the writing overly preachy but definitely informative, regardless of your faith. Some of the cool stuff Trueblood discusses:

Lincoln was the first President to establish an officially / federally recognized Thanksgiving Day. Lincoln originally encouraged 4 nationwide fasting and reflection days throughout the year but upon suggestion from a Quaker friend, decided one nationally recognized holiday for everyone was the way to go -- Lincoln wanted the day to be non-denominational, just a day where everyone could stop, collaborate and listen... jk.. couldn't resist... nah, he wanted people to stop, reflect, and be thankful and humble for their blessings, acknowledge their misguided actions but appreciate the lessons learned from them.
Even though Lincoln was down for having a Thanksgiving Day, he actually pushed to keep legislation in session during Christmas. In fact, Lincoln had official work-related letters dated on Christmas Day! While he was a man of faith personally, he never outwardly subscribed to any one particular religion or followed any one church's religious holiday schedule. He found things he liked in several faiths. Even the night of his assassination, the night he was attending the theater with Mrs. Lincoln, was a Good Friday.
Terms that are so commonly attached to American Government today, such as "Under God", recited by schoolchildren everywhere with the Pledge of Allegiance, and "In God We Trust" lead back to Lincoln. Trueblood talks of how "Under God" does not appear in the first draft of The Gettysburg Address, leading one to believe it was something Lincoln ad-libbed in the moment and added in later when it was reprinted in the papers of the day. And it was Lincoln's administration who popularized the phrase "In God We Trust", a phrase we instantly associate with the National Treasury now.

Abraham Lincoln

"Abraham Lincoln was not a religious leader in the conventional sense. Certainly he was not professionally religious and he had no formal theological training. What he knew about prayer came not from books but from experience, much of it agonizing. He was no flaming prophet like John the Baptist, nor was he an ecstatic arouser of men's emotions, like the Mahdi. He was, instead, as Horace Greeley said, 'a plain, true, earnest, patriotic man, gifted with common sense.'"

This book definitely had me thinking about our presidential election this year. Think about how many people on either side of this election said that the opposing candidate winning would be the worst decision a voter could make. How many, on either side, said the opposing candidate would bring the country to ruination? Well, take a look at what was being said of Lincoln during one of his election years:

"Had we any respect for Mr. Lincoln, official or personal, as a man, or as President-Elect of the United States, his career and speeches on his way to the seat of government would have cruelly impaired it. We do not believe the Presidency can ever be more degraded by any of his successors, than it has been by him, even before his inauguration." ~ The Baltimore Sun

Or the 1864 New Year's edition of The Crisis:

The people of the North owe Mr. Lincoln nothing but eternal hatred and scorn. There are 500,000 new made graves; there are 500,000 orphans; there are 200,000 widows; there is a bottomless sea of blood, there is the Constitution broken; there are liberty and law -- liberty in chains and in a dungeon; thieves in the Treasury, provost marshals in the seats of justice, butchers in the pulpit -- and these are the things which we owe Mr. Lincoln.

WOW. Sound familiar? I'm recalling something about history and repetition... Imagine, Lincoln ever being considered the worst president in history! But in his time, there were people that honestly saw it that way. Just as now, there are people that things couldn't be worse. Trueblood makes a good point regarding the President and the press:

During his first year as President, Lincoln was faced with public criticism of a bitterness which is hard to believe. All men in public life are forced to bear abuse, but few have faced it as much as Lincoln faced it day after day. The writers in the newspapers could sound smart because they did not have the responsibilities of decision, and they could sound bold by enunciating extreme positions which they were not required to implement. Lincoln, by contrast, in order to maintain integrity had to reject extremes because he was sworn to be faithful to the welfare of the entire nation.

Reading about Lincoln, and how he solidified his stance on slavery (in part, finding support in the Bible verse Matthew 25:40 -- 'Inasmuch as ye have it done unto one of the least of my brethren, ye have done it unto me'), it makes me ponder how Lincoln would view our president now. What would he say about the hateful, racist things said about the guy? What would be his words of wisdom to bring people together and pull their heads out of their asses? Would they listen? Regardless of what you might think of our president as a person or a leader, the amount of blatantly racist, uneducated, uninformed comments I've seen thrown his way just off of his race... I've found it utterly ridiculous that with all the information in the world now, people can still choose to remain so f-n stupid when it comes to race and respect for fellow human beings in general. But I was warmed by one story in particular in this book, regarding Lincoln and Quaker Eliza Gurney.

Eliza Gurney

widow of English Quaker Joseph Gurney and friend of Abraham Lincoln

During the Civil War, Eliza Gurney became concerned for the mental health of Lincoln, what with the stress of brother versus brother out there killing each other and him being held largely responsible. Gurney rounded up three of her fellow Quakers (John M. Whithall, Hannah B. Mott and James Carey) and walked over to the White House to visit him -- back in the days when it was still cool to just walk up to the front door like you were taking over some mail that got mistakenly delivered to your house. Gurney explained that they were not there to request anything of the strained president, but instead offered their spiritual support and friendship. They came in, did a prayer circle with the president. They only intended to stay 15 minutes or so, but Lincoln found himself so lifted and refreshed by being given the opportunity to share the weight of his burdens with genuinely concerned friends that he asked them to stay longer, do some more praying, more talking. One of the Quakers later wrote that at one point, there was a moment of silent prayer where the tears were just rolling down Lincoln's face. Lincoln was so moved by the day and the generosity of these people that he asked Eliza to continue to write to him so that he may continue to talk out his fears and have a friend / Friend to pray over him (a sort of unofficial therapist, maybe?). You just don't hear these kinds of stories that often these days. But it was sweet to picture what a gift this must have been to Lincoln.

"Lincoln was grateful for the confidence of those who supported him so loyally in his difficult task, but he was deeply sobered by the fact that almost two million of his fellow countrymen had voted against him." ~~ Elton Trueblood

Another vintage Lincoln book I highly recommend if you can find a copy is Lincoln: His Words And His World, published by Country Beautiful in 1965. My copy pictured below:

This book explores the man behind the presidency through his letters and speeches. Heavily illustrated, it offers a wealth of info on him that's easy to read in sections. Might be a bit of a treasure hunt involved finding a copy though -- I was given this copy when I was a kid and it's the only one I've come across in person. I'm sure there's gotta be some out there on Amazon and Ebay though :-) But hey, that's half the fun of a collectible library right? The hunt!

And, seeing as how this is a book blog, I thought I'd share the list from Trueblood's book of
Lincoln's Top 5 Most Influential Reads:

The Bible
The plays of Shakespeare
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan
Life of Washington by Mason Locke Weems

No beach reads for that guy! :-P I take that back, Robinson Crusoe is kind of a beach read... of a different sort lol.... see ya next time!

YAAY OLYMPICS.... and... now what?

2012-08-16T02:21:00.000-04:00

A few days late posting this, been battling a cold this past week.... on the mend now, so we're back on!

Everyone come down from their Olympic high? Man, the U.S. had a pretty impressive run, huh! 104 precious metal necklaces -- Woot Woot! Though there are a number of sports there that still baffle me (the kind of sports that it seems like people strive to perfect but only perform at the Olympics), I still look forward to seeing what happens in Rio.

In the spirit of the Olympics, I finally read this book that's been untouched on my shelf for quite awhile now : My Sergei by Ekaterina Gordeeva (who went by the nickname Katia). I originally got the book because I remember my mom and I watching Ekaterina and her husband skate on television when I was a kid. My mom loves watching figure skating ( I think I watched mainly because in my mostly tomboyish heart, I secretly wanted to have similar pretty, flowy dresses). I remember hearing of the tragic death of Sergei and being shocked at his young age. I even have a memory of watching some skating program (now that I think of it, it may have even been an Olympic performance of some couple) where they panned to Ekaterina sitting in the audience with, what seemed to my young self at the time, quite a sad, wistful look on her face (I think this was only shortly after Sergei's death). I was always curious about the backstory but you know how things go. Some books get pushed back time and again for more modern "must reads". So, in the spirit of the Olympics (though admittedly this may have been more appropriate to read for the Winter Games), I dedicated a couple days to this short read.

For those of you unfamiliar with this couple, they were a pretty familiar couples figure skating team back in the 80s and 90s. Originally from Russia, they did a number of tv specials before and after becoming two time Olympic Gold Medalists. They toured the world with friends and fellow skaters such as Scott Hamilton and Kristi Yamuguchi. Then suddenly in 1995, Sergei dropped on the ice while rehearsing a new routine with Ekaterina. Doctors were unable to save him, determining that he died from a massive heart attack (stemming from undetected coronary heart disease). He was only 28! Gordeeva now does shows to raise awareness for heart disease and the importance of heart health and has since remarried -- to none other than fellow Russian ice skating champion, Ilia Kulik.

This book details the whole span of their life together, from the very first time they skated, through development of the friendship and later the courtship, her struggle with widowhood, as well as the backstory stuff within a sport you never really think about as a spectator (such as one story where she tells of Sergei having a muscle injury that affected his ability to lift things, so she basically goes on a starvation diet to get as small as possible to give him as little weight as possible to struggle with, even though she was already super tiny naturally!). It also gives one the sense of what life was like in USSR Russia vs the United States in the same time period --- made me realize that no matter how bad we think we have it, it's really not as bad as it could be!

I was also struck by how young these two really were... to go through all that they did, I mean. Makes the story all the more heartbreaking to think of it. Your mid to late 20s... your life has barely begun. So sad. And yet there was such a beautiful love there. Maybe because it seems so immortalized when it happens so early in life. Ekaterina's description of the last night of Sergei's life, her own terror, was incredibly hard to read, thinking how panicked I would be myself in such a situation but later the story of the memorial show done for Sergei was memorably powerful. Though part of me did picture the ending of Ghost for a moment. :-)

I think that Sergei's soul now lives somewhere. In our religion, we have two very important days after a death: the ninth day and the fortieth day. From the day of the death until the ninth day, the deceased is still with us, and people will dream about him very clearly. Then on the ninth day the deceased starts his journey to the gates that open to Paradise or to Hell. God will decide where He wants this person. On the fortieth day, he leaves us. He's free. He now has his own spiritual life. ~~ Ekaterina Gordeeva

Though it's clear by her writing (and by the fact that she's Russian, of course) that English is not Gordeeva's first language, some of the writing being awkward and slightly jarring in some places, maybe more simplified than what you're used to -- there's a still a pretty resonating story to hear here. Go back in time a bit, relive the fun as well as the struggles of the 90s. I know I miss those years :-).

Katia skating at Sergei's Celebration Of Life

Music is Mahler's Symphony #5 IV Adagietto.
She describes this performance in the final pages of her book:

I had always liked this music, which is sensitive and tender and also a little bit sad. Marina {Sergei and Katia's choreographer} told me that Mahler wrote this music when he was proposing to his wife; that, in fact, the music served as his proposal; that he gave it to her, and she sat down at the music and played it, and the music did his speaking for him. His wife immediately understood....When we first listened to it on the ice, she said to me, "I don't know what to do." Then we listened more and the music told us what to do. Marina said to me, "Imagine that you are skating with Sergei for the last time," Then, "Now you've lost him, you're missing him, you're looking for him and can't find him. You get on your knees and ask God why it happened. Your legs feel broken, as if they have no strength. You cannot move. Everything inside you feels broken too. You must ask God for some help. You must tell God you understand that life goes on, and now you have to skate. You must thank him for giving you Sergei for half of your life, the most beautiful time in your life. This is about how all people can get up from their knees in the face of adversity, can go forward, can have the strength to persevere. You can find someone to life for. You can have a life of your own now." ... As the time neared for my solo number, I thought about the words Sergei used to say to me when we were getting ready to skate. We always kissed each other before we skated, we always hugged and touched each other. Now, in the tunnel waiting to go on the ice, I didn't have anyone to touch or kiss. It was a terrible feeling to be standing there by myself. Only Dave, the tunnel attendant for Stars On Ice, was there watching, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing: How sad to see her standing here without Sergei. But then I thought of what Marina had said: Just trust Sergei, and he will help you...But as soon as the Mahler music started to play, and I skated out into the darkened arena, the bad feelings went away...

There's more to this but I will let you read it on your own. Hard to discount the idea of an afterlife after reading how her husband helped her get through the routine and how she never wants to do this number again, to maintain the special, otherworldly feelings she experienced with Sergei in those moments.

This book will also serve as a reminder to thank your spouses for the love they give you each day, never knowing if it may be the last.

Love you, sweet Finbar.

Kenneth Grahame

2012-07-28T02:02:00.000-04:00

The most priceless possession of the human race is the wonder of the world. Yet, latterly, the utmost endeavors of mankind have been directed toward the dissipation of that wonder... Science analyses everything to its component parts, and neglects to put them together again... Nobody, any longer, may hope to entertain an angel unawares, or to meet Sir Lancelot in shining armour on a moonlit road. But what is the use of living in a world devoid of wonderment? ~~ Kenneth Grahame

Given the Olympics Opening Ceremonies having just aired, it seems fitting to do a post on Kenneth Grahame. In between reading some of my more serious, academic books I decided to revisit a couple of old childhood classics of his -- his famous The Wind In The Willows and maybe lesser known The Reluctant Dragon, a story originally featured in his 1898 book, Dream Days.

Grahame was born in Scotland in 1859, but sadly orphaned at an early age. Still a young child, he was moved to England to live in the care of relatives. He grew up to have a mix of jobs aside from writing, including being a social worker at night and the Secretary of The Bank Of England by day. He was also part of the London-Scottish Regiment. The shy-natured Grahame married Elspeth Thomson in 1889 who later gave Grahame a son, Alastair (who went by the nickname "Mouse").

author Kenneth Grahame

"I write not only for children,

but for adults who remember what it is like to be children."

Grahame's son, Alastair, as a young boy

How cute was he!

Wind In The Willows

This classic came about when Grahame brought home a mole as a pet for his son and the housemaid accidentally killed it. The stories started as a way to comfort Alastair and let him know that the mole would live on in the stories. Alastair enjoyed the stories so much, he begged his father to continue them in letters even when the young boy was sent on trips with his mother to visit family. The stories continued to grow through these letters between father and son. Grahame's wife, Elspeth (who had always encouraged her husband's writing) found the stories so adorable, she recommended that Grahame have them published as a book. The end result was The Wind In The Willows, published after Grahame retired from the Bank of England. Sadly, Alastair, who was sickly and blind in one eye (perhaps the reason for the side profile in the pic above?) battled depression, committing suicide at the age of 19 (the link under Alastair's pic will take you to an article discussing the sad story). The pain of his son's death stayed with Grahame until his death in 1932 at the age of 73. I've read elsewhere that excitable Frog who was always curious about "the next big thing" was based on Alastair's energetic and inquiring nature.

1966 illustration of Toad by beloved children's illustrator

Tasha Tudor (my favorite of all the illustrators I've seen

tackle TWITW)

Re-reading this book as an adult, I am struck by how relatable the characters are, even now. Everyone knows someone like all of these characters. Have a friend always into the latest gadgets, fashions, trends? That's Toad. Rat is the one you might call very "granola", he loves the outdoors and simple living. Mole loves experiencing new things and meeting new people even if he has some trepidation in being outside of his comfort zone. He's ever curious about what's going on just over the next hill. See what I mean? Even the landscape, especially The Wild Woods... at least the way Rat describes it... sounds like that sketchy part of town you know to avoid as much as possible. Perhaps that's part of the eternal appeal of this book, it just never gets old.

BTW... There's a 1996 Terry Jones live action screen adaptation that's a nice mix of eerie and sweet and there was a really cute BBC / PBS Masterpiece Theatre aired version made in 2006. You can watch the whole thing (but in sections of course) on YouTube.

1996 Terry Jones adaptation:

2006 adaptation with Bob Hoskins & Matt Lucas

I also heard that yet another version was set to be released this year with Ricky Gervais doing the voice of Mole... does anyone know, did that project get shelved or is it still in the works? Just curious.

The Reluctant Dragon

Perhaps not quite as famous as The Wind In The Willows, I think I first read The Reluctant Dragon when I was about nine years old. I recently found my old copy in a box of books in my mom's storage. I remember really liking the book but not much else so I figured it was time for a refresher. I think it took me maybe 45 mins to read (and I'm a slower reader), it's that short but so adorable! The dialogue is very fun and witty, making the story move very quickly. And I loved that the dragon spoke like "a perfect English gent"! This is the story of a dragon who makes his home on a hill above a quiet English village but instead of wanting to attack the villagers, he wants to be friends with them, recite poetry, eat delicious foods, and just bask in good friendship. How do you convince a bunch of medieval villagers of that though? There's one little boy (just known as The Boy) who lives in town who climbs up the hill every day, not showing a moment of fear around this dragon but instead is the first of the humans to offer up his friendship while explaining that the rest of the town won't be won over so easily.

The Reluctant Dragon illustration by Ernest H. Shepard
"Do for goodness' sake try and remember that your a pestilential scourge or
you'll find yourself in a most awful fix." The Boy to The Reluctant Dragon

The dragon has a pretty funny hashing out with St. George, the knight you may have read about in legends who was reputed to be quite the dragon-slayer. They calmly and sensibly discuss the terms of a faux battle to appease the riled up locals -- where George is allowed to strike the dragon, how much noise will be made, etc... all as if it were some business deal between friends!

Written in 1898, I wondered if this book was maybe the idea behind Disney's Pete's Dragon but it turns out Disney did a 1941 cartoon adaptation of this book, sticking with the book's title for the cartoon. Though I thought I had seen just about every old Disney movie out there, I can't seem to remember this one.

The Reluctant Dragon short on DVD

The dragon has the characteristic high, squeaky voice of so

many characters in early Disney movies. Not quite how I pictured

the dragon in the book but still a cute clip:

and this was a little before my time, but I found this ABC-TV clip of a show where Grahame's characters The Reluctant Dragon and Mr Toad were given a show together... anyone see this when it was on?

"Banquets are always pleasant things, consisting mostly, as they do, of eating and drinking, but the especially nice thing about a banquet is that it comes when something is over, and there's nothing more to worry about, and tomorrow seems a long way off." ~~ Kenneth Grahame's The Reluctant Dragon

Grahame uses a unique humor to teach kids the importance of really getting to know people before you judge them. People (or dragons) may seem scary or anti-social on the outside but maybe they really long for people to take an honest, non-judgemental interest in them. :-)

Have You Read Anything By Charles Martin?

2012-07-27T04:28:00.001-04:00

On one of my recent perusals of a local Goodwill Store book section, I found a couple of books by this guy Charles Martin. Had never heard of him before, but I was intrigued by the covers. Come to find out he's a Christian author with a number of books already under his belt! Christian fiction is not something I actively seek out but it's not something I necessarily steer clear of either. I enjoyed both of these books so much, I unashamedly googled Charles Martin and to tell you the truth, had I not read about his Christian roots, I would not have guessed anything about it from the writing. These books do not preach at you, they just have beautiful, simple but powerful stories about loving marriages. I saw my own marriage in these books, the lengths my husband and I would go to for each other (fingers crossed no such thing happens because Martin writes some pretty hardcore medical problems for his leading ladies, part of the pull of the story -- you get so pulled into the characters you want to know if they'll pull through). One thing that really appeals to me about these books is they're not overly sappy. The men are like my husband, there's no doubt they love their wives but they don't have to spout sonnets 24/7 or burst into tears over how achingly beautiful life is all the time. Not saying they can't feel that way on the inside but I'm a bit of an old fashioned girl. I like men TO BE MEN, throw me a nice letter or a surprise gift, improptu trip or something from time to time but if you profess too much, the special moments stop being so special. I like that Martin lets his men be men and his ladies be sassy but loving. I would say if you like Nicholas Sparks, Martin is better! I like a few of Sparks' books but some of his recent stuff gives me cavities (figuratively, of course. I care for my books too much to gnaw on 'em.. :-P).

author Charles Martin

The Dead Don't Dance

Dylan Styles is orphaned at a young age and goes to live with his grandparents, Pappa & Nanny, in an old farmhouse in South Carolina. Dylan grows up, meets lovely, lively Maggie and gets married. Maggie and Dylan continue to live in the old farmhouse (which Dylan inherits after his grandparents pass away). Dylan has a "city job" as an English professor but feels his real interest lies in continuing his grandfather's farming work... problem is, the farming isn't really making any money. Maggie has complications with a pregnancy and winds up in a coma. Dylan, refusing to let his wife go, starts to look at where his priorities have been and where maybe they need to be now. There are some great side characters in this story, mainly in Dylan's English class, such as Marvin, the class clown, and Koy, the emo chick who becomes an important friend to Dylan. My favorite character was Dylan's ball-bustin' best friend Amos (who is also the town sheriff), who never lets anyone wallow in self-pity. I know with the coma and all that, it sounds like this would be a sap-fest, but seriously, the characters are compelling and the dialogue feels real. There is a sequel to this book called Maggie. Haven't had a chance to read it yet... but soon :-)

Me Phi Me, "Revival"

Reading The Dead Don't Dance

had me remembering this song :-)

If you're trying to place where you might have heard

this one before, it was on the Reality Bites soundtrack.

That's right... going a little old school for y'all!

Trace Adkins, "Muddy Water"

The ending had me thinking of this song...

Where The River Ends

A similar story, concerning a South Carolina couple, Doss and Abbie Michaels, but with a "wrong side of the tracks" element thrown in. Doss is a struggling artist, Abbie is a socialite /model/ politician's daughter who throws her social status to the wind, deciding to marry Doss and promote his artwork. With Abbie's encouragement, Doss develops a reputation for making beautiful paintings from visually unattractive subjects.

Again, Martin writes in a sick wife, this time it seems terminal. Ironically, the woman that taught her husband to see the beauty in ugly struggles to find how her husband can still be attracted to her as she gets more and more sickly and more dangerously thin each day (combination of the illness and the treatments). Doss in a similar way struggles to show her he sees the beauty of her soul, which always makes her beautiful inside and out to him. But ladies, you know how resistant we can be to believe such things when we feel that low. My favorite scene in the whole book comes when Abbie is in the hospital for a treatment and her husband keeps hearing the nurses talk about her or mention her on the overcom, but they refer to her by her room number, "1054". He gets fed up and calls the whole floor staff to his wife's room:

I'd like to introduce you all to my wife. This is Abbie Michaels. You can just call her Abbie. She's a wife, a daughter, a friend, she has a tendency to talk with her hands, she likes Lucky Strike jeans and she sees beauty where others don't. She is not and has never been '1054' {to which a head nurse starts to say HIPPA laws mandate...}... I know you all work hard. A lot harder than most give you credit for. I am thankful for what you do and how you do it, but HIPPA's wife is not lying in that bed. I need to ask you to look at the woman in that bed and not think of her as a number. Not a statistic. Hope is what feeds us. And to be honest, it's running in short supply around here.

BOOM! Gotta love that kinda fella, not afraid to demand respect for the woman he loves! Doss, working off of a sort of bucket list of 10 "normal life" things Abbie wants to do in her lifetime (things that have no connection to her fame or family money, just everyday living moments), decides to take her on a river trip from SC to Florida, rather than have her wither away in the hospital. This book ponders the question of whether, in one's final days, it's better to have quantity or quality of life. Do you fight just to have more days in general or do you make the most of the days you think you have? The one problem I had with Doss is he always seemed to get tangled up in confrontations with people but didn't have a bit of fighting ability, ever! He would talk brave but physically he was always getting whooped on! :-S Sometimes it's best to nod or shrug and move on lol.

"All My Love" by Led Zepplin

Doss talks about how special this song is

to him and Abbie

One of the elements of the story I really enjoyed was all the art history and amazing paintings that were special to Abbie & Doss woven throughout the story. I love art history so having a character tell these stories was like candy to me :-)

"Woman In A Grove" by Jacek Malczewski
"People are always telling me I'm beautiful. Okay, so what. I've spent most of my life in front of the cameras. People use my image to sell a product. That's all. At the end of the day, they've used me -- my face or figure, which by the way I had nothing to do with -- to tell everyone how they are not like me. Hence, you're not beautiful. Or, you're not pretty. Or, you don't measure up. If you want to make great art, something that can reach beyond time and space, find someone, find someone who isn't and show them that they are. Paint the broken, the unlovely... and make them believe." ~~ Abbie

Abbie and Doss visit numerous art galleries and museums in their time together -- some of their favorites mentioned:

"Venus of Urbino" - Titian

"While her body is provocative, it is drawn in such a way that leads you time and time again to her face, the angle of her neck,the inviting drop of her shoulders, the playfulness in her eyes, the relaxed crossing of her legs. It's what a nude should be." ~ Doss

"F&$%X*!!!!"

How dedicated are you to your art? When Bernini was in the process of sculpting this bust, titled "Damned Soul", he burned his forearm with a hot iron to get the face of agony just right!!

This book surprised me... how much it tugged at my heart. Similar books usually have me internally yelling "AHH C'MOON!" where the woe-is-me thrown into overdrive. But Martin's characters thankfully feel like real people. The ending in Where The River Ends has a bit of a what-you-might-expect-tearjerker wrap up but until then you really want to be on the boat ride with these two!

"River In Forrest" from TheWallpapers.org
"The river can be a magical place. As much as I've been here, I still don't quite get her. No matter how you hurry or how hard and fast you pull on the paddle, the river controls the tempo. She stretches every minute and steals back every second. Rivers do this naturally. They don't give two cents about the destination. Name one straight river and I'll show you a man-made canal. People make a big deal about how their watch automatically sets itself to atomic time from a tower somewhere in Colorado, but if we were smart, we'd set our watches to river time. We'd wrinkle less and wouldn't grow old as quickly." ~~ Doss Michaels

Odd Couples

2012-07-11T16:23:00.000-04:00

Here's a couple books for you to check out that have unusual couples, unusual in that you might have an "ick" or "what tha..." moment here and there reading about them, but the writing is so good, I had to throw some props their way!

THE GIANT'S HOUSE by Elizabeth McCracken

(National Book Award Finalist .. figured it couldn't totally suck..)

This is the story of Peggy Cort, a 26 yr old "spinster" librarian living in the Cape Cod area in the 1950s where she meets 11 yr old James Carlson Sweatt, who suffers from gigantism. By the age of twelve, James is 6'5. James and Peggy develop a friendship at the library, Peggy giving him books that take his mind off of his disability and social awkwardness. Somewhere in the midst of their friendship, Peggy finds she's actually falling in love with James but realizes this is an inappropriate feeling to have towards someone still not legal. She can't seem to shake her deepening affection for him so she just keeps it to herself, struggling with seeing James grow up over the years, learning to flirt as a teenager, struggling with not knowing how to dance, etc. With everything that goes on, at the toughest moments James always comes back to Peggy, one night confessing his own feelings. You'd think this book would be really awkward to read but nothing inappropriate happens. James grows up, becomes a man and Peggy continues to help him as his condition worsens. It's actually really sweet (and bittersweet) the way this relationship develops between them. The one problem I did have with the story was the last few chapters, the way McCracken decided to wrap things up confused me, it felt a little disjointed and then like she quickly brought it back and tried to tie things up neatly. But definitely give this one a try. It's a slow burn kind of read, doesn't really race through, but the development in itself is powerful.

There's some great quotes in this book. Check it out:

On history:

For some people, history is simply what your wife looks good in front of. It's what's cast in bronze, or framed in sepia tones, or acted out with wax dummies and period furniture. It takes place in glass bubbles filled with water and chunks of plastic snow; it's stamped on souvenir pencils and summarized in reprint newspapers. History nowadays is recorded in memorabilia. If you can't purchase a shopping bad that alludes to something, people won't believe it ever happened.

LOVE

On Love:

Despite popular theories, I believe people fall in love based not on good looks or fate but on knowledge. Either they are amazed by something a beloved knows that they themselves do not know; or they discover common rare knowledge; or they can supply knowledge to someone who's lacking. Hasn't everyone found a strange ignorance in someone beguiling?

sad love

I loved him because I wanted to save him, and because I could not. I loved him because I wanted to be enough for him and I was not.

sweet couple

Truthfully, this is the fabric of my all my fantasies: love shown not by a kiss or a wild look or a careful hand but by a willingness for research. I don't dream of someone who understands me immediately, who seems to have known me my whole life, who says 'I know, me too.' I want someone keen to learn my own strange organization, amazed at what's revealed; someone who asks, 'and then what, and then what?' But you can't spend your life hoping that people will ask you the right questions. You must learn to love and answer the questions they already ask. Otherwise you're dreaming of visiting Venice by driving to Boise, Idaho.

THE MOST WANTED by Jacquelyn Mitchard

This is the story of Arlington "Arley" Mowbrey a 14 yr old girl who, partly from a dare, partly out of a sense of charity, decides to write to Dillon LeGrande, an inmate at a South Texas prison who just happens to be 25. It starts out innocent enough because Arley doesn't expect anything more than a simple pen-pal sort of communication. But Arley feels a freedom in telling all her inner feelings to someone she figures it won't matter to. She figures the guy will think she's crazy and not write back. To her surprise (but not to the reader's 'cause c'mon 400+ pages here.. of course he wrote back!) she gets a letter from Dillon with him saying how moved he was by her honesty... and so starts the blossoming of their relationship. Did I mention Arley lied about her age to impress this guy she thought wouldn't care about her? Ahh plot muck :-). Well Dillon's not a total perve.. I guess.. he does take a pause and consider "okay.. she's 14" but then that leads to "well she's a mature kind of 14". Okay... bit of an ick moment there but hear me out. No, I'm not a wackadoodle myself endorsing these kind of things, I was disturbed by a lot in this book but because it was so well written I kept reading. And it helped that the story is broken up and alternated between the POVs of Arley and Annie, her lawyer, who acts as the voice of reason in the story... oh, and Annie has a sweet, legal love affair of her own ;-)

I thought Arley was a well developed character in that in the beginning we see her acting as if she knows exactly what she's doing but later as things get twisted up (as any adult could see from a mile away that they would), she freaks out and wants to be free of everything, though Annie tries to tell her it's too late, the proverbial bed's been made. I like that the teenage character actually sounded her age without going to the cliche airhead tone, but instead you get to see the mix of almost-adult thinking with the "can I get my mom to write a note" stage of life still in there. This book gets pretty dark as the story moves along. I hoped for Dillon to be that one in a million case of rehabilitated former sick puppy... seems like there were shreds of good guy in there. I was curious to know more about the backstory of Dillon and his brother but there wasn't much given. Oh, and Arley's mom? OMG.. that lady was pretty much flat-lining on the mom-o-meter. I don't think I've read such an exaggerated case of a woman having kids for the welfare money!

She did not neglect her children; neglect might have required more concentration than Rita was able to muster up.. Arley's mother simply did not love her, and not only did she not love her but she regarded Arley's school successes, as well as her timid attempts to involve herself in extracurricular activities, as a source of irritation, an obstacle that got between her and her right to cheap labor.

Is it any wonder Arley turned out such a confused girl? Still, here's another book that offers great writing if you can get passed the taboo subject matter.

infatuation

"You asked somebody, they'd always say kin is kin. But that doesn't mean the same thing to people everyplace. When you grow up with all kinds of love from your blood kin, maybe you don't have that desperate hope for someone out there waiting who can make up for all the things blood never brought you. Someone who can look deep inside you and see things no one ever bothered to tell you were there." * Arley

Oh and btw.. wondering about Arley's name? Yeah.. her mom's one of those women who named all her kids after the towns they were conceived in... Arley is for Arlington, Texas... awkward name to try to pull off as feminine... poor girl :-(

When In Rome...

2012-06-11T21:21:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure I'd want to "do as the Romans do", at least not by Ancient Roman standards! Love is a beautiful thing, but how promising is it, when one person is a gladiator, condemned to death but allowed to live as long as he gives a good show in the arena, and the other is a house servant, once an educated girl from a respected family, but now enslaved and forced to do the bidding of the most ungrateful, spoiled biddy in town? Such is the question in Kate Quinn's historical fiction novel, Mistress of Rome. And before ye judge, no, this is not the standard supermarket bodice-ripper you may be imagining. This is actually a pretty well-researched historical novel, giving the reader a full on view of what it might have been like to live in those times, for ALL classes. We just learn about the world from the perspectives of Thea, a Jewish slave owned by bratty heiress Lepida, and Arius, the gladiator.

author Kate Quinn

image courtesy of GoodReads.com

As fictional romances typically go, of course Thea and Arius have an instant connection, though actually meeting up takes some work. Luckily, Thea's mistress, Lepida, develops an infatuation with Arius and constantly sends Thea to the gladiator quarters with secret messages. Over time, Thea's return trips back home take longer and longer (*wink, wink). It takes awhile for Lepida to catch on to what's going on, why her messages are never being answered by Arius, but once she does figure it out, she goes full-blown evil and finds a nasty way to split Arius and Thea apart. To spare you the spoilers / complete details of Lepida's sinister scheming, I will just say they end up spending years apart before finding each other again. By that time, Thea has a different sort of job, living in a different town, while Lepida naturally goes on to marry for money (to senator / bookworm Marcus Norbanus) and have an "oops" child she doesn't want or like. As the reader, you'll probably want to throttle Lepida, as I did, when you see how poorly she treats good-hearted Marcus. Never ceases to amaze me how the good guys always seem to fall right into the snares of the cruelest women. As for Arius, he finds his Thea in an odd relationship with Emperor Domitian (one that proves beneficial, in sort of a business-like way, to both Thea and Domitian). There's one other big surprise for Arius when he reunites with Thea but you'll have to read to find out

:-)

Roman Woman

Imprisoned Roman

I loved the complexity of all of these characters. The evil ones were over the top evil, the good were noble in character but lived a flawed reality, which I found refreshing. I like that sort of realism, even in fiction. Arius has a streak of rage he constantly battles, but he centers it and does his best to avoid bringing unneccessary harm to the innocent (doesn't always succeed, but he does try!). He spends much of the novel trying to win a rudius from the emperor (a wooden sword emperors gave out to certain prisoners who had won favor with them. Obtaining a rudius meant you were pardoned of your crimes, your freedom reinstated). Emperor Domitian, on the other hand, starts out as a respectable character but then his straight up whacked out crazy starts to come out more as the novel progresses. That guy is into some twisted, twisted stuff. The way Quinn wrote Domitian makes me think she was inspired by the real-life Roman Emperor, Caligula, who also started out as a respected ruler but became more well known for his depravity and drunken orgies (not saying there's anything wrong with one in it's own place and time --- Zoolander, anyone? :-P --- just noticed the similarity). And wouldn't you know, here comes Lepida again with an interest in Domitian this time. Poor Thea can't shake that witch off!

She's beautiful. She's even sort of interesting, like the way poisonous snakes are interesting. But she's awful. ~~ Vibia Sabina, daughter of Lepida & Marcus, talking about her own mother!

"A Classical Beauty" by John William Godward

Because no one ever notices me, you'd be surprised how much I hear. ~~Vibia Sabina

I was really impressed with all the strong female characters in this book. Often, with historical fiction anyway, you find maybe one strong woman in the book with everyone else telling her to pipe down. In this book, good or bad, all the women seemed to have strong voices and had the men actually listening to them, even Thea, being a slave girl, earned respect from many. I found the Empress really admirable. You don't hear much from her through most of the novel, other than the rumors going around about her, but by the end you find out she's actually a pretty ballzy, spirited woman who did what she had to do to survive a maniac for a husband. You also find out she has a sense of humor about the whole thing, even though she admits she feared for her life at times. Also, Calpurnia, the bethrothed of Marcus' son (from an earlier marriage) becomes a fun character once she learns to speak her mind without fear. I loved it whenever she put Lepida in her place!

I wouldn't say there are any HUGE surprises in the plot, but enough twists and turns to keep the historical fiction fan entertained. :-) Looking forward to when I have a chance to read Kate Quinn's second novel, Daughters of Rome.

"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED??" ~ Russell Crow in Gladiator

The midday executions dragged past, and then the gladiators marched through the Gate Of Life in their purple cloaks, pairing off for preliminary fights. My {Lepida's}daughter leaned forward, her eyes bending on the muscled armored figures. I looked at her irritably. "Since when is Little Lady Squeamish a gladiator fan?" "I'm not," she said, eyes still fixed on the arena. "I went for the first time at Matralia, and it was fairly awful. But it is interesting." I {Lepida} brushed a fly away from my wine cup. "You've got a crush on a trident fighter, I suppose." "No...it's just that the gladiators are supposed to care about dying well, and all they care about is not dying at all." Her eyes traveled from the arena to the packed tiers of the Colosseum., the laughing, cheering crowds of plebs and patricians alike. "People don't seem to see that."

Roman couple

2012-05-17T03:00:00.002-04:00

I know it's been a bit since my last post. Just wanted to let everyone know I'm still around, just in the middle of moving my mom across states. Lotta little details to work out that have required most of my attention these last few weeks. Just about finished and should have her here in a few days and THEN more posts to come lol. Lots of good stuff to talk about!

Til then, I saw this in the recent Serena and Lily catalog and found it inspiring, making me look forward to a more chill summer than the spring has been :-) So, here's me wishing you happy weekends full of fun reads outdoors!

Might be kinda hard to read, but it says "The first hot day. Fresh cut grass. A nap on the porch. Dinner outside. Ice. Gin. Tonic. Lime. Under a ceiling of stars. It's about living as well outside as you do inside. Taking your aesthetic with you wherever you go. Recognizing the moment is beautiful and that all things are possible in summer."

:-)

Cancer Awareness Memoirs

2012-04-30T08:23:00.000-04:00

A more serious post today but one I felt compelled to put out there. Never know, there might be something in these books that someone going through a tough time really finds comfort in.

How do you slip back into the ordinary world? That was the problem confronting me after cancer, and the old saying, that you should treat each day as if it might be your last, was no help at all. The truth is, it's a nice sentiment, but in practice it doesn't work. If I lived only for the moment, I'd be a very amiable no-account with a perpetual three-day growth on my chin. Trust me, I tried it. People think of my comeback as a triumph, but in the beginning, it was a disaster. When you have lived for an entire year terrified of dying, you feel like you deserve to spend the rest of your days on a permanent vacation. You can't, of course; you have to return to your family, your peers, and your profession. But a part of me didn't want my old life back.

*Lance Armstrong on surviving cancer

I don't know that there are too many people left in the world who have not been affected by a cancer diagnosis in some way, either being the patient themselves or a family member / friend of the patient. Cancer has been pretty prevalent in my own life. My grandfather battled different cancers going in and out of remission for most of my life before finally succumbing in 2008. My mother and I have both had cancer "scares" with breast and cervical cancers (meaning it looked like something bad on an initial test but thankfully proved to be nothing dangerous on further tests). It's awful, frightening, infuriating... but between my own experiences and my past work around hospitals and hospice facilities, I am a firm believer in the power of faith, hope and determination. Does it guarantee a perfect outcome? No, not at all. Of course I know nothing is guaranteed. But I have seen plenty of instances where having such faith and determination do wonders to boost the odds of survival and winning back the quality of life one wants and deserves. These books showcase the power of not giving up ...

EVERY SECOND COUNTS & IT'S NOT ABOUT THE BIKE

both by Olympic Medalist / Cyclist Lance Armstrong

Armstrong wrote It's Not About The Bike first, this being a memoir half about his cycling career, half about his cancer diagnosis and subsequent battle and how each affected every other aspect of his life, relationships, marriage, etc. As with most memoirs, Armstrong also divulges information about his life that isn't all that mainstream -- such as the fact that he's never met or even seen a picture of his biological father. His parents were together but split up soon after Lance's conception. Lance's mom ended up remarrying a man by the name of Terry Armstrong, giving Lance his famous last name but that relationship became strained during Lance's adulthood. It was my impression, while I read this, that this may have what led Lance to develop such a driving, independently minded personality. He doesn't expect help or handouts from anyone. While I certainly respect that, I have to say his tone came off a little "in your face". From page one, I was thinking "why is this guy sounding so defensive to his readers, most of whom he's never going to meet or have to answer to?" But don't let that sway you from hearing his story. He's got some good stuff here. Armstrong even admits in some sections that he may not be the most easy-going, approachable guy all the time. His celebrity persona (you know, the one in all those beer commercials and whatnot) seems pretty chill, and I'm sure he is when he gets to be around his family in his native Austin, Texas, but he's also incredibly serious and focused most of the time. So maybe he's not the biggest social butterfly out there but considering he's taken on and won the world's most difficult and grueling bicycle race in the world 7 FREAKIN' TIMES then yeah, one can understand his tunnel vision tendencies.

Lance right after his 7th win -

the yellow jersey, known as the maillot jaune, identifies the leader

of the team,did you know the leader is determined after each

day's race? So each race means the current leader has to prove

himself with the best time all over again within their own team as

well as compete against the other teams in the race!

I wonder if Queen's "Under Pressure" is on Lance's iPod :-P

I liked that Lance tried to incorporate humor into his book while talking about such heavy topics. Particularly with his cancer stories, while it may not have been funny at the time, it was a little funny to me how he describes going to a urologist after noticing one of his testicles was, as he described it, the size of an orange! The urologist's response after examining Lance? "This looks a little suspicious." I'm sorry but that's funny in its ridiculousness. I know had I been in a similar situation, my initial response in hearing a doctor say that would be "Really... that's your professional opinion. I drove all the way downtown to your office to hear that... ". And that stellar observation was the start of Lance's battle against testicular cancer. Wondering how he ended up having so many kids after coming out of that hell? He explains that too. I also appreciated how honest he was about everything. Right up front he tells the reader he's not sugar-coating anything and you can either read what he has to say or move on to another book. I didn't always like how he treated people trying to help him, especially the way he snapped at oncology nurses just trying to do their job, but I'm sure he's probably got moments he's not proud of... and at times his arrogance annoyed me, he'd write about how much he'd learned about humility but then he would recall moments that displayed vain, disrespectful behavior. BUT... he did say he wanted to be honest with this book.

Why did I ride when I had cancer? Cycling is so hard, the suffering is so intense, that it's absolutely cleansing. You can go out there with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and after a six-hour ride at a high pain threshold, you feel at peace. The pain is so deep and strong that a curtain descends over your brain. At least for awhile you have a kind of hall pass, and don't have to brood on your problems; you can shut everything else out, because the effort and subsequent fatigue are absolute. There is an unthinking simplicity in something so hard, which is why there's probably some truth to the idea that all world-class athletes are running away from something. Once, someone asked me what pleasure I took in riding for so long. "Pleasure?" I said. "I don't understand the question." I didn't do it for pleasure. I did it for pain.

Alec Baldwin's "God Complex" speech in

the 1993 film MALICE. Lances writes that

during his cancer treatments, he was often reminded

of this scene.

Livestrong - Lance Armstrong's foundation to raise funds for cancer research

Lance is retired from cycling now but he says during his TDF days,

he burned through an average of 10-12 liters of fluids and

6000 calories EVERY day he was racing!

I think my favorite part of this book (and I'm probably a little biased here) were Lance's stories about training in Boone, North Carolina.. which is just minutes from the town where my husband grew up, Beech Mountain (in fact, Lance trained ON Beech Mtn and had his vitals checked and tests run at Appalachian State University in Boone). Long before his TDF days, Lance was competing in the Tour DuPont, a grueling uphill race held from 1991-1996, part of which ran through Boone and Beech Mtn. If you're ever in the area, take a look at the steepness of those hills. It's hard to really appreciate that kind of dedication to a sport til you see that environment up close. I remember once, during the first year my husband and I were dating, we decided to go take the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood on Beech Mtn -- and yes, there is a town built ON the mountain. That walk was the hardest dog walk of my life! And I was just walking! But if you're not acclimated to it, the elevation will sneak up and clothes-line you.

"Viva Armstrong" and other motivation phrases were painted along the road heading up

to the town of Beech Mountain ( Elevation 5506 ft - highest town in

Eastern United States)

Years later, when Lance revisits Boone, he had actually been semi-retired when he, with some coercion from his coaches, decided it was time to get back in the game. He talks about how those first trial runs back on the road kicked his ass. Given some time, a little bit of training on Beech Mtn and another batch of tests and he ends up breaking the odometer on the test bike, he was moving so fast!

I passed the rest of the trip in a state of near-reverence for those beautiful, peaceful, soulful mountains. The rides were demanding and quiet and I rode with a pure love of the bike, until Boone began to feel like the Holy Land to me, a place I had come to on a pilgrimage. If I ever have any serious problems again, I know that I will go back to Boone and find an answer. I got my life back on those rides.

He even named his dog Boone and his cat Chemo!

Passage du Gois --

I thought this was pretty cool! This path, on the TDF route, floods 2x a day

every day during high tide. Also each year, the Foulees de Gois, a foot race,

is held, a race which STARTS at high tide. The path leads to the island of

Noirmoutier.

And a bit of comic relief in the middle of a heavy topic.... Armstrong points out that one of the biggest dangers to cyclists are motorists. Wonder if he ever had an Eric Idle moment...

In Every Second Counts, we learn more about Lance's personal life, the good and the bad. By the time of this book, he is nearly free and clear of any fear of cancer coming back, though he reveals that he had to have check ups twice a year every year for 5 years before the doctor officially deemed him "cancer free". The first book documented the birth of his first son, this book discusses the birth of his twin daughters.

This book was a much shorter read, but I didn't find it as interesting as It's Not About The Bike. The writing felt more self-indulgent to me. I get that it's a memoir and to a certain extent, you have to expect a little of that "you can't imagine what I went through tone" but I just don't want to be beaten over the head with it. Still, I did enjoy the stories about his Olympic days -- Barcelona in 1992, Atlanta in 1996 and Sydney in 2000. In Barcelona, he said he was "a young, inexperienced hothead"; in Atlanta his lungs were riddled with cancerous tumors, but he hadn't been diagnosed yet. He said he "felt like I was dragging a manhole cover" trying to keep up with everyone; in Sydney he was hit with glitches and mishaps galore but still managed to take home Olympic bronze in cycling.

2000 Olympics Bronze Medal

You should always honor your fiercest opponent: the better your opponent, the better you have to be. ~~ Lance Armstrong

Aside from the Olympics recollections, I also smiled at his impressions of NYC firefighters post 9/11. Being married to a firefighter myself, I was impressed that he got what these guys are really like. They're not the oiled up, bare chested, axe-wielding calendar guys they're made out to be -- least not while they're on duty... right hon? ;-D But after visiting 10 different firehouses in NYC, Armstrong notes:

Some people think heroism is a reflex, an anti-death knee jerk. Some people think heroism is a desire to matter, to be of use. Then there is the quieter heroism of "going to work every day and making a living for one's family," as New York mayor Rudolph Guiliani said of those people who died in those buildings. By the end of that trip, I decided it was some combination of the three. But whatever it was, these guys had it.

AMEN!!

Another really great memoir relating to cancer that I've read recently is Gilda Radner's book, It's Always Something. There's a good deal of humor in this book, as one might expect from an SNL legend, but there's also some pretty moving, bittersweet moments where she admits the toll her illness took on her marriage to Gene Wilder, friendships, family members, even on her work relationships. But I think the biggest thing I took away from reading this book is remembering the joy in small pleasures -- a happy look on the face of your dog, a trip to a favorite place, the days when the air is the perfect temperature and you couldn't feel more blessed.

"Never let a gynecologist put anything up your nose." ~ quote from one of Gilda's nurses after a procedure mishap.

Gilda Radner

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die -- whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.

~~ Gilda Radner

Gary Allan - Life Ain't Always Beautiful

(But It's A Beautiful Ride)

one of my all time favorite songs

and a good reminder for me from

time to time!

The Mr and I were just talking yesterday about how the song below helped us through some dark days (individually, before we got together)... sometimes it's good to just take a moment and "scream it out".... Reading It's Always Something, I got the impression Gilda wanted such moments from time to time during her treatments...

Sixx A.M. - Life Is Beautiful

I didn't know much about Radner before reading this book, outside of her SNL career, but found I something in common with her -- we both found our groove in high school performing in choir and drama and, here again, was another woman who also had fibrocystic breast disorder and ovarian cysts. She also mentioned having Epstein-Barr virus before developing ovarian cancer. Radner found support in The Wellness Community, where she met other cancer patients and their families, one patient being Tucker Smith, who played "Ice" in West Side Story. Radner admitted having a crush on him years ago, the film being one of her favorites.

Tucker Smith as "Ice"

in West Side Story

Because my life was always stressful, a lot of people had told me that I should meditate. I thought meditation was some weird Indian yogi thing, and the only yogi I ever knew was somebody who could put a rope through his nose and make it come out his bum. I thought that was interesting but not something I wanted to do. I had heard about mantras and all that, but all I could think of was I would have to take my contacts lenses out to do that because I can't keep my eyes closed that long with them in; they start to hurt. It's hard enough to put them in in the morning without taking them out for forty-five minutes and then putting them back in. So, instead, I continued with my stressful life. ~~ Gilda Radner

Gilda's story of her battle with cancer is a powerful one, especially knowing how it turned out, but I really loved the love story of her and Gene Wilder. Her stories showed a side of him that rarely showed in films. It was cute to see how hard she had to work to convince him that marrying again was a good idea (he had divorce under his belt already and just seemed to want to date indefinitely); how she met him on her first movie role and couldn't concentrate on anything except "I wonder if he likes me?"; how she convinced him to let her co-star in Haunted Honeymoon -- written and directed by and starring Gene himself. I remember watching this film every summer -- you'd think it would be more of a Halloween film but nope, we did things a little backwards around our house back then lol. This is an adorable spoof movie btw.. worth checking out if you haven't seen it yet! Can you believe it only ran in theaters for 1 week??

The romance developing between them is such a sweet, funny story, which makes it brutally hard to read as she goes through the moments when she gets violently ill, then a little better, then ill again, all the while seeing the toll it takes on Gene. I was blown away how calm, patient, and loving he was with her even through her worst rages. His sense of humor gave her extra strength I'm sure. She tells the story of how he gave her a gift one year for her birthday with a tag attached that read:

This is not as loud as your mouth, but it's as delicate as your soul. Love, your husband.

LOL sounds like something my husband would write in one of his jokey moods :-P The gift he gave her was a delicate looking necklace btw.

Even though Radner's outcome is tragic, her insights on life, marriage, illness, etc throughout her treatment are beautifully honest and real. Definitely find yourself a copy, even if it's just a loaner from the library, and give this one a try :-)

Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Society

2012-04-29T05:30:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit delayed in getting this post published, as I work through some family matters that require the majority of my attention. Also, I realize this book has been reviewed and hashed over on endless book blogs but it hasn't been on mine yet ;-) Enjoy!

The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Society, written by Mary Ann Schafer and her niece, Anne Barrows, may be dismissed by my male readers as average chick lit... but whoa nelly, you boys might find a nice read here yourself! This one is another quick read, probably just a day or two at most, but it's also one of those books that packs a helluva lotta story in such a short read.

Annie Barrows (left) with aunt Mary Ann Schaffer --

authors of Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Society

In the years immediately following the end of World War II, Juliet Ashton, an English writer / journalist living in the land of "bluestockings and shrews", is quite enjoying her life in bustling London, has a number of friends and a pompous American publisher boyfriend, Markham V. Reynolds (even his name makes the reader want to immediately throw suspicion his way). Juliet finds at least something mildly charming in Mark's pitifully unromantic attempts at wooing -- part of his problem being his "aren't you lucky to have me" put out there all the time -- but still has a voice in the back of her mind hinting that something is missing. Is Mark really the guy for her? Should she just delve in to that book she always wanted to write? Her days are filled with work and moments of reminiscing, recalling the golden days of pre-war England in her cute little flat she once had -- bombed during the war.

The description of Markham, though I wasn't a fan of the character, was interesting to me in that it reminded me instantly of Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black:

Then Markham V. Reynolds stepped forward, and the bubble popped. He's dazzling. Honestly, Sophie, I've never seen anything like him. Not even the furnace-man can compare. Tan, with blazing blue eyes Ravishing leather shoes, elegant wool suit, blinding white handkerchief in breast pocket. Of course, being American, he's tall, and he has one of those alarming American smiles, all gleaming teeth and good humor, but he's not a genial American. He's quite impressive, and he's used to ordering about -- though he does it so easily, they don't notice. He's got that way of believing his opinion is the truth, but he's not disagreeable about it. He's too sure he's right to bother being disagreeable. ~~ Julie in letter to her friend Sophie

Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black (1998)

She receives a letter out of the blue from Dawsey Adams, a sort of jack-of-all-trades working as a pig farmer / dock worker among other titles, living on Guernsey, part of the Channel Islands just off the coast of England. He writes to tell her that he has a copy of a collection of works by writer Charles Lamb that had her address in it (this book has become his favorite). Dawsey, being so enthralled with the works of Lamb that he's read so far, writes to ask Juliet if she knows where he might be able to obtain more books by Lamb, since contact to the island is limited. Juliet answers his letter, he answers her response letter, and so on and so on til a beautiful friendship has developed through their sharing of events (mainland vs. island). Dawsey shares little anecdotes of all the people living in his community on Guernsey and before long, Juliet finds herself desperately wanting to meet them all. This leads to the idea of her traveling to the island to live there for a bit, gathering all the island stories together to be published.

vintage Guernsey Island

A handy guideline for readers: Google Earth map / interactive tutorial laying out all the places mentioned in this wee book: Guernsey Island book-related map

The story starts in post - World War 2 era, but flashes back to war times, even prior to the war's outbreak as each character tells their own personal story of how the war affected them and their families. All the colorful characters living on Guernsey Island, offering up their stories, is a large part of what made this book so much fun to read. That and the palpable attraction and friendship building between Juliet and Dawsey even through letters! So what is the Literary & Potato Peel Society? It's basically a book club the residents of Guernsey Island put together as a cover to meet up past curfew hours, while not being punished for it by German soldiers. While the group starts as a cover, the members actually do become interested in the books they discuss. It's fun to see the bookworm tastes of each character develop. In fact, I desperately wanted to sit in on the meetings described! The story of the origins of the club was particularly fun for me when it's mentioned that one character blurts out a story to a German soldier about how the group was detained past curfew reading Elizabeth And Her German Garden, an antique book I have in my collection, actually one of the first I ever acquired!

the book that started the Society...

This is the story of a late 18th century wife and mother who

convinces her husband to let her leave her city life and set up

house at their country home. She finds peace and sanity

from life's stresses through the beauty in cultivating a lush

garden. Very sweet, touching read. Also a pretty quick

read. Free copy to download here.

That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive -- all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment. ~~~ Juliet in one of her first letters to Dawsey.

1940s woman

I don't want to be married just to be married. I can't think of anything lonelier than spending the rest of my life with someone I can't talk to, or even worse, someone I can't be silent with. ~~Juliet Ashton

I don't know about you but my lessons on the Channel Islands during World War 2 were minimal at best. I had never even heard of Guernsey Island before reading this book, but now I really feel for this island of proud people (in the best sense of the word), thinking of the terror and grief that must have been an everyday hell after the Germans decided to occupy the island during the war. Curfews were set, people were made to live on war rations and coupons and fear. One of the most heartbreaking parts of this story involves a woman who is forced into an internment camp after defending someone she saw being blatantly mistreated by the German soldiers. That's as far as I'll divulge, but I warn you, be ready to have your heart break with the cruelty / unfairness of life.

So this one will hold a permanent place in my library :-D. The love story feels real, the stories of the POWs are heartbreaking, and the voice of Juliet in her letters is adorable and funny. Not to mention this book has a built in history lesson on a little known area of England (ie.. who knew Victor Hugo once breezed through the area??) A sample of Juliet's humor (in another letter to bf Sophie):

Now, about Markham V. Reynolds (Junior). Your questions regarding that gentleman are very delicate, very subtle, very much like being smacked in the head with a mallet. Am I in love with him? What kind of question is that? It's a tuba among the flutes, and I expect better of you. The first rule of snooping is to come at it sideways --- when you began writing me dizzy letters about Alexander, I didn't ask if you were in love with him, I asked what his favorite animal was. And your answer told me everything I needed to know about him -- how many men would admit that they loved ducks? (This brings up an important point: I don't know what Mark Twain's favorite animal is. I don't think it's a duck.)

For those interested, I close with an actual recipe for Potato Peel Pie. There isn't one given in the novel, but I was curious so I looked it up and found this (variation on Potato Peel Pie but I chose this one because it just sounded tastier than some of the other, more traditional recipes I found):

Potato Peel Pie ***courtesy of CookEatShare.com Potato Peel Pie***

2 cups raw, grated potato skins (I added some of the white part to keep the texture somewhat tender), use mashed potatoes for filling

1/3 cup grated onion

1 egg, beaten

3 Tbs flour

beetroot

sour cream (optional)

chives (optional)

butter (optional)

garlic (optional)

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Butter a small pie plate. Mix grated potato peels with egg, onion and flour. Press the mixture into the pie plate and up the sides to form a crust. Bake crust for 20-25 minutes. While the crust is baking, cook potatoes, drain and mash. You can add your favorite mashed potato flavorings here i.e. garlic, onion, milk, butter, salt, etc. Fill crust with mashed potatoes and sprinkle with beetroot. Bake in oven at lower temperature of 375 for 10 minutes or until browned.

Let me know how it turns out!! :-D

Southern Lit. Quick Read

2012-04-19T00:03:00.001-04:00

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts.

~~ William Shakespeare's As You Like It

For those who like dark Southern lit. murder mystery type books, this one is a fun way to pass a lazy afternoon. The Drifter's Wheel is part of Philip DePoy's Fever Devlin series. The story takes place in Blue Mountain, Georgia where Dr. Fever Devlin is a college professor, scholar and expert in Southern Folklore. His expertise in this field leads him to become part of many crime scene investigations involving the local mountain folks. Quirky character detail I noticed -- Devlin is described as commonly wearing different clothing combinations involving the colors "rust" (I'm guessing a dark orange) and black. Never really explained why only these colors seem to come up so much, but interesting, I thought :-P

author Philip DePoy

The plot, which covers Civil War era through modern times, can be confusing in parts. A mystery man busts into Devlin's home and tells him this wild story of how he is a Civil War soldier (and, in one of his stories, a relative of Stonewall Jackson) guilty of killing his brother (whose body is later found near the estate lands of one of Devlin's neighbors, thus bringing about the murder mystery part of the story). Devlin, called in to help with the murder investigation, comes to find out that the same mystery man visited Devlin's fiancee, Lucinda and Hovis Daniel, an eccentric old man considered crazy by most Blue Mountain locals. Tricky part of the story is the mystery man gives different versions of his story and different clues to his true identity (including identifying himself by different names) to all three people. That's where the story can get confusing, trying to keep track of all the different stories and identities for the same guy. It's also part of the fun though.

nurse

Lucinda was the head nurse at the county hospital. If she had been born a hundred years earlier, she would have been the midwife of our town -- two hundred years earlier and she might have been its witch. Long out of high school and college, she somehow had managed to maintain not only a student's looks but also an enthusiasm for learning new things I found absolutely fascinating. Her desire to gather new ideas was the perfect compliment to my passion for discovering old ones. There seemed to be no end in the things we found in common, or the joy we found in sharing those things.

I loved all the history incorporated into the story. I particularly love stories that teach me something new about a part of history I didn't know before. In this story, that was the case with Devlin's study of the Hutchinson Family Singers, a group of Civil War era singers whose songs focused on abolition of slavery, womens' rights, political activism and the like -- they were also the original war protesters, loooong before hippies thought to fight the Vietnam war with enthusiastic rounds of Kumbaya. I don't remember reading about them before but apparently they were THE group to see back in the 1840s. Sample of one of their songs below:

By the time Andrews got home, I'd spent a very frustrating five hours, on and off, going from one web site to another without finding anything of use. It had only exacerbated my primary objection to internet research : a million miles wide and half an inch deep. {Pretty much how my internet research typically goes!}

There's even a science lesson or two here:

Mushrooms illuminated by the chemical Luciferin

photo by Mainichi Shimbun

Not photoshopped! This actually happens naturally

via same chemical reaction that lights up firefly butts! :-)

In the book, this process is explained with Fever

coming across Foxfire plants:

Foxfire plant

It's usually called foxfire -- a bioluminescence created by a certain sort of fungus or lichen. You find it on decaying wood. I used to believe it was primarily a product of only one species of the genus Armillaria, but over the years I think I've found as many as forty individual species. It exists everywhere. Pliny and Aristotle mention it. Ben Franklin suggested that the military use it to light the inside of one of our first submarines. Believe it or not, it's a substance called luciferin -- same thing that lights up a firefly -- reacts with an enzyme, luciferase, and that causes the luciferin to oxidize and make light.

So there ya go... any of you who ever wondered how fireflies work... :-) Might take some of the mystique away from the little guys but they're still fun to watch!

Fireflies

There's a humorous observation on human behavior after Fever explains luciferin to his best friend and fellow professor Winton Andrews during a midnight hike through the woods to search for something pertaining to the investigation. Fever mentions the need to be careful as to not alarm bears in the area and notices in Winton:

And there it was: the human aversion to anything unfamiliar. Andrews, like most people, would rather face a real bear than imaginary fire. He understood what a bear was; he had no idea what made the fungus glow -- even though I had offered a perfectly good scientific explanation. He'd seen bears a hundred times. He'd seen foxfire twice. And even though the bear was a certain danger and the luminescent fungus would never attack him, rake him with claws, or bite him with teeth, Andrews preferred the bear.

DePoy also hits upon the beauty of history, through his elderly character, Hovis:

...the old days. That's what I know best. There's not a single today in life that can beat a really great yesterday. And do you know why? Because yesterday is polished by the rags of memory, and it shines brighter, glows warmer. Hell. A man my age, especially, is more like to recall a penny's worth of ten-years-ago than a dollar's worth of earlier-today.

graphic courtesy of The Graphics Fairy

:-) Just love that!

Maugham Round Up (Part 2 of 2)

2012-04-07T17:44:00.000-04:00

OF HUMAN BONDAGE

Arguably Maugham's most famous novel, but sadly, for me, one going on that list of "falls short of epic status" classics I've read over the years. It's not a huge list I've made but it will be kept company by my memories of reading Anna Karenina... yep, I admit, I was one girl who didn't swoon over the tragic love story but instead wanted to smack spoiled Anna and (in my best Cher voice) exclaim "Snap out of it!" Maugham's slight misogynistic bent continues in parts here, well maybe not quite misogyny since I don't know if I'd go so far as to say his male characters hate women, but they do tend to blame a good deal of their problems on the womenz.... to which I say to those male characters, "Way to step up and accept your part in your life!" Ugh. I do find it funny that Maugham wrote one male character labeling one of my favorite plays, Henrik Ibsen's The Doll House as "nonsense and filth" (the plot of this play is centered around a woman who at a dinner party one night just drops it on her husband in front of all their friends that she feels she's meant for more than housework and doting on her husband so she announces she's leaving him. The rest of the play is basically a study of a marriage, and her husband working through the shock of such a statement, trying to figure out where the hell these feelings came from... powerful stuff!) But yeah, funny that Maugham would use his characters to label such a plot about a woman yearning for independence as "filth and nonsense" ;-)

Philip Stanley, the central character in Of Human Bondage, is a bookish, socially awkward guy who, like many, struggles to find his place in the world. His struggles are exacerbated by the presence of his club foot. His club foot and limp from said deformed foot causes his relationships with people to suffer because so many are "put off" by what they find to be grotesque or weird (like he chose such a disability for himself!). Philip's uncle William, a vicar, and his wife Louisa (actually my favorite character in the story) encourage him to become a minister, figuring that within the church he will find a solid, respectable career that will not require too much physical exertion. The marriage of William and Louisa, as it was depicted, made me sad for Louisa at times, but other times it cracked me up:

It was a large black stove that stood in the hall and was only lighted if the weather was very bad and the Vicar had a cold. It was not lighted if Mrs. Carey had a cold. Coal was expensive.

I also found the vicar and his wife to be very similar to Mr. and Mrs. Collins from Pride and Prejudice:

It was extraordinary that after thirty years of marriage, his wife could not be ready in time on Sunday morning. At last she came, in black satin; the Vicar did not like colours in a clergy-man's wife at any time, but on Sundays he was determined that she should wear black; now and then, in conspiracy she would venture a white feather or a pink rose in her bonnet, but the Vicar insisted that it should disappear; he said he would not go to church with the scarlet woman; Mrs. Carey sighed as a woman but obeyed as a wife.

And this idea of the church life for Philip is seconded by the headmaster at Philip's school:

The headmaster hesitated a moment, and then, idly drawing lines with a pencil on the blotting paper in front of him, went on. "I'm afraid your choice of professions will be rather limited. You naturally couldn't go in for anything that required physical activity." Philip reddened to the roots of his hair, as he always did when any reference was made to his club-foot. Mr. Perkins looked at him gravely. "I wonder if you're not oversensitive about your misfortune. Has it ever struck you to thank God for it?" Philip looked up quickly. His lips tightened. He remembered how for months, trusting in what they told him, he had implored God to heal him as He had healed the Leper and made the Blind to see. "As long as you accept it rebelliously it can only cause you shame. But if you looked upon it as a cross that was given you to bear because your shoulders were strong enough to bear it, a sign of God's favour, then it would be a source of happiness to you instead of misery.

"Portrait Of A Boy Reading" by Edmund C. Tarbell (1913)

My favorite quote in Of Human Bondage, mainly because it reminded me so much of my own childhood and also because Maugham so perfectly explains the development of a bookworm :-) :

He forgot the life about him. He had to be called two or three times before he would come to dinner. Insensibly, he formed the most delightful habit in the world, the habit of reading; he did not know that thus he was providing himself with a refuge from all the distress of life; he did not know either that he was creating for himself an unreal world which would make the real world of every day a source of bitter disappointment...He did not read always with enjoyment but invariably with perseverance. He was eager for self-improvement. He felt himself very ignorant and very humbled.

Prayer

While in school, Philip manages to develop a good friendship with the most popular boy at his school for a time. Their friendship reminded me of that between the boys of A Separate Peace by John Knowles. The nerdy-guy-best-friends-with-sporty-guy theme was very similar. Though I wonder about Maugham's choice to name the sporty guy Rose. A guy would have to be very secure with himself not to get razzed for that name in school and become the most popular guy to boot!

So the thing that stood out to me about Philip is how he's at his best when he has just one thing to focus all his attention on. He becomes obsessive easily. At first he's a decent student because, well, there's not a lot else going for him at that time. But then he meets sporty guy Rose and he starts having so much fun "hanging with the guys" that his grades start to slip. When the intensity of that new friendship starts to wane and Rose loses interest in Philip, Philip hits the books again. But down the road, he meets up with his waitress lady love and once again, nothing else matters. This, incidentally, is what kinda killed the story for me. I don't find much to swoon over in regards to hard core clinger type relationships or people with rollercoaster emotions. I guess because I've been in those types of relationships myself and I remember how truly EXHAUSTING it is! I liked bookish Philip, when he was strictly in his contemplative state. His relationship side was a little tiring for me.

When I read a book I seem to read with my eyes only, but now and then I come across a passage, perhaps only a phrase, which has a meaning to me, and it becomes part of me; I've got out of the book all that's any use to me, and I can't get anything more if I read it a dozen times. You see, it seems to me, one's like a closed bud, and most of what one reads and does has no effect at all; but there are certain things that have a peculiar significance for one, and they open a petal; and the petals open one by one, and at last the flower is there.

Yellow Tulip Opening

MRS.CRADDOCK

"You know," she answered at last, "happiness is never quite what one expects it to be. I hardly hoped for so much, but I didn't imagine it quite as it is."

~~ Bertha Ley Craddock,

early in her marriage to Edward.

Summary: "On her 21st birthday, when she comes into her deceased father's money, Bertha Ley announces, to the dismay of her former guardian, that she is going to marry 27 year-old Edward Craddock, her steward. Herself a member of the landed gentry, Bertha has been raised to cultivate an "immoderate desire for knowledge" and to understand, and enjoy, European culture of both past and present ages. In particular, during long stays on the Continent, she has learned to appreciate Italy's tremendous cultural heritage. A "virtuous" girl, her views on womanhood are thoroughly traditional. She has no doubts about her role in life, which will be to serve and obey her future husband. When Bertha encourages reluctant Edward Craddock, whom she has known since their childhood, to propose to her, she is certain that she will find absolute fulfillment and happiness in her marriage, even if it means abandoning city life and its pleasures for the Kentish coast "to live as her ancestors had lived, ploughing the land, sowing and reaping; but her children, the sons of the future, would belong to a new stock, stronger and fairer than the old. The Leys had gone down into the darkness of death, and her children would bear another name. She felt in herself suddenly the weariness of a family that had lived too long; she knew she was right to choose new blood to mix with the old blood of the Leys. It needed the freshness and youth, the massive strength of her husband, to bring life to the decayed race." --Wikipedia

late 1800s woman

Of all the Maugham books I've read to date, this has been my favorite, though it's not one of his most familiar works. The tone reminded me of that in his novel Theatre. Bertha Ley, who becomes Mrs. Craddock, is a young girl who gets SO caught up in the fantasy she creates in her mind of what marriage is like that she ends up sabotaging what she actually has with Mr. Craddock. Bertha, who comes from one of those English families with a great, respectable family name with no more money attached to it, finds she's surprisingly inherited a good deal of money from her father following his death. For reasons not explained all that well, other than Bertha being enamored with his looks, Bertha accepts a marriage proposal from local landowner / farmer Edward Craddock, much to the shock of her titled family. She goes into it with this idea that she'll be a cute little housewife making fruit pies and tending to cute, dimpled babies while her husband puts in a 9-5 (so she thinks) in the fields. She pictures greeting him with a glass of lemonade and a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of each workday. So, days after the wedding:

"Have you really not thought of our honeymooon, foolish boy," asked Bertha.

"No!" {Edward}

"Well, I have. I've made up my mind and settled it all. We're going to Italy and I mean to show you Florence and Pisa and Sienna. It'll be simply heavenly. We won't go to Venice because it's too sentimental. Self-respecting people can't make love in gondolas at the end of the nineteenth century. Oh, I long to be with you in the South, beneath the blue sky and the countless stars at night."

"I've never been abroad before," he said without much enthusiasm.

But her fire was quite enough for two. "I know, and I shall have the pleasure of unfolding it all to you. I shall enjoy it more than I ever have before; it'll all be so new to you. And we can stay six months if we like."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," he cried. "Think of the farm."

"Oh bother the farm, it's our honeymoon, sposo mio."

"I don't think I could possibly stay away more than a fortnight."

"What nonsense! We can't go to Italy for a fortnight. The farm can get on without you."

"And in January and February too, when all the lambing is coming on." {Edward}

He did not want to distress Bertha, but really half his lambs would die if he were not there to superintend their entrance into the world.

"But you must go," said Bertha."I've set my heart upon it."

He looked down for awhile, looking rather unhappy. "Wouldn't a month do?" he asked,"I'll do anything you really want, Bertha."

But his obvious dislike to the suggestion cut Bertha's heart. She was only inclined to be stubborn when she saw he might resist her, and his first word of surrender made her veer round penitently.

"What a selfish beast I am!" she said. "I don't want to make you miserable, Eddie. I thought it would please you to go abroad and I'd planned it all so well. But we won't go; I hate Italy. Let's just go up to town for a fortnight like two country bumpkins."

"Oh, but you wouldn't like that." {Edward}

"Of course I shall. I like everything you like. D'you think I care where we go as long as I'm with you? You're not angry with me, darling, are you?"

Mr. Craddock was good enough to intimate that he was not.

Don't fall for it dude! It's a trap!! I guarantee you this moment will come up in a fight later! :-P

late 1800s couple

After a few months of mostly platonic, blissful interactions with the hubby, reality starts to put a chip in her polish. She starts to see that farming is not an easy 9-5. Her husband inherits part ownership of the land after marrying Bertha and works his tail off to build up what he finds was a pretty run down estate. He's up before dawn and home long after dark trying to turn their small financial assets into perpetual riches. Bertha wants to spend her days "hanging out" with him but Edward, being slightly older and perhaps more grounded in reality, tries to explain that while chillin' is all well and good, some work in life is required to make the downtime financially possible... particularly when Bertha enjoys pretty, luxe things around her! He tries to indulge her though -- he takes her to the theater, to museums, to parties he doesn't care about, he does his best to be obliging and keep a smile on her face. She doesn't get it though and begins to see her husband as oblivious, passionless, a poorly educated, socially awkward country goober. Finding herself falling into a serious depression over what seemed to me like a non-issue, she trys to self medicate by making multiple trips to sunny Italy and chic France, immersing herself in culture, shopping and recreation, bemoaning to others of her dull, neglectful, boarish husband. Even when Edward develops an interest in local politics and runs for an office to try to bring some change for the better to the community, she quietly tries to discourage him because she thinks he's too stupid to be successful in the office and he'll just end up being an embarrassment to her!

I couldn't help but think "poor Edward!". Mrs. Craddock is an example of the type of woman who ends up hating the very things about her husband that first made him appealing to her. Bertha loved that Edward was so outdoorsy and "of the earth" instead of being absorbed in mens' fashion or going on and on about politics. To me, aside from Edward being a little old school in his ideas about women (again, Maugham writes a male character that loves his women in the kitchen or being pretty but quiet), he seemed like a decent guy. He worked hard day and night to improve his wife's family's property, he wasn't an alcoholic, he didn't smack her around, didn't run around on her. Maybe he did get consumed with day to day responsibilities and neglect his husband time with Bertha at times, but who here is not guilty of being so distracted by daily duties that they sometimes forget the importance of time with their spouse / partner? I don't think running off the way Bertha did without really trying to explain herself was the answer. But (playing devil's advocate here) Edward's philosophy might not have helped the situation:

He was the best humored of men and Bertha's bad temper never disturbed his equilibrium. He knew that women felt irritable at times, but if a man gave 'em plenty of rope they'd calm down after a bit. "Women are like chickens," he'd told a friend, "Give 'em a good run, properly closed in with stout wire netting so they can't get into mischief, and when they cluck and cackle just sit tight and take no notice." There is nothing like knowledge of farming and an acquaintance with the habits of domestic animals to teach a man how to manage his wife.

Nope, that probably didn't help :-P

In some ways, Edward reminded me of my own husband, who told me early on, when we first started dating, "Look, guys can be dense sometimes, we don't do the whole "hints" thing that well. Just flat out say what you want and we can go from there." (this was just a general comment during a conversation - not him chewing me out about anything lol). That's what I was thinking of, reading about Bertha running off to different countries, hoping her husband would see how much he needed her around, but never explaining that she had actually left him. She would just say "oh, I'm not feeling well, I need to go to the sea" but in her mind would say "I'm not coming back". Edward would take his wife at his word, assuming she was in fact ill and figured she'd be back in a few weeks when she felt better, meanwhile he kept up the house and estate til she got back. After an unusually long separation, he would gently ask in letters to her if she was feeling improvements, he would say he missed her but it wouldn't be enough because he wasn't crying his eyes out and she would assume he didn't understand. All it would have taken to fix her problem is "Honey, I'd like to spend some time with you. We haven't spent much time together lately". Done. If he doesn't make the effort after that then yeah leave him if he doesn't care enough about you to make time for you but don't just start off assuming he knows exactly what the problem is without you saying anything!

When all the shopping and parties in the world don't seem to satisfy her, Bertha eventually gives in to a brief affair with young, charismatic, barely legal Gerald Vaudrey... who just happens to be a cousin of hers... and not one of those super distantly related cousins either :-S. For one that accused her husband of being under-educated, I question Bertha's math skills. After giving in to Gerald's flirtations, she's constantly exclaiming "I'm old enough to be your mother!" But she's not exactly in How Stella Got Her Groove Back territory here :

For a moment she was overjoyed, but quickly she remembered that she was married, that she was years older than he; to a boy of nineteen a woman of twenty-six must appear middle-aged. She seized a hand-mirror and looked at herself, she took it under the light so that the test might be more searching, and scrutinized her face for wrinkles and crow's-feet, the sign of departing youth. "It's absurd," she said,"I'm making an utter fool of myself."

Okay... so it's not the fact that she's married, not the fact that it's her cousin she's goofy over, no it's the fact that she's a whopping 7 years older. Ultimately this relationship (big shock here) runs it's course and Bertha seems to reevaluate her marriage. Is it possible that she might one day see that there is more than one way to express love? That true love, and ultimately marriage, isn't always a torrential flood of passion but sometimes just a quiet, peaceful brook of blissful appreciation for the one person you find that best understands you? Not every day is going to be Wuthering Heights epic, some days it's just about sitting on the porch, feeling the breeze and watching fireflies with your love and just appreciating all the good that's come into your life! :-)

{Love You Honey!}

"Woman Reading" by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1877)

So readers, til next post, I leave you with this quote about Mrs. Craddock that blew me away in how it perfectly explained my love of old books!

Bertha found reality tolerable when it was merely a background, a foil to the fantastic happenings of old books; she looked at the green trees, and the song of birds mingled agreeably with her thoughts still occupied with the Dolores Knight of La Mancha, with Manon Lescaut, or the joyous band that wanders through the Decameron. With greater knowlege came greater curiosity, and she forsook the broad highroads of literature for the mountain pathways of some obscure poet, for the bridle track of the Spanish picaroon. She found unexpected satisfaction in the half-forgotten masterpieces of the past, in poets not quite divine whom fashion has left on one side, in the playwrights, novelists, and essayists whose remembrance lives only with the bookworm. It is a relief sometimes to look away from the bright sun of perfect achievement, and the writers who appealed to their age and not to posterity have by contrast a subtle charm. Undazzled by their splendor, one may discern more easily their individualities and the spirit of their time; they have pleasant qualities not always found among their betters, and there is even a certain pathos in their incomplete success.

Maugham Round Up (Part 1 of 2)

2012-04-06T00:54:00.000-04:00

"She had the serenity of a summer evening when the light fades slowly from the unclouded sky. There was nothing dull in her immense placidity;it was as living as the sea when under the August sun it lay calm and shining along the Kentish coast....The clothes of that day gave a woman dignity and there was something amazingly attractive in the way her virginal beauty contrasted with the loveliness of her gown...She was like a silvery flower of the night that only gave its perfume to the moonbeams.

~~ Cakes and Ale

This will probably be my last Maugham post for awhile as I think I've burned through all the books I had of his in my library (until I get around to getting a nice copy of The Painted Veil), so I thought I'd lump them all together and discuss them in a couple of posts.

CAKES AND ALE

Summary (via Shelfari) : Author William Ashenden, is unexpectedly contacted by Alroy Kear, a busy-body literary figure in London. Kear has been asked by the second Mrs. Amy Driffield to write the biography of her deceased husband, Edward Driffield. Driffield, an author who was once scorned for his realist representation of late-Victorian, working-class characters, but who in his later years has become lionized by scholars. The second Mrs. Driffield, a nurse to the ailing Edward after his first wife left him, is known for her propriety and interest in augmenting and cementing her husband's literary reputation. Her only identity is that as caretaker to her husband in life and to his reputation in death. It is well known, however, that Driffield wrote his best novels while married to his first wife/muse, Rosie.

Kear knows that William Ashenden had a long acquaintanceship with the Driffields when he was a young man. Kear contacts Ashenden to get privy information about Edward's past — including information about his first wife, Rosie, who has been oddly erased from the official narrative of Edward's genius. The plot revolves around how much information the narrator will divulge to Driffield's second wife and Kear (while exposing it all to the reader), who ostensibly wants a "complete" picture of the famous author, but who routinely glosses over the untoward stories that might upset Driffield's surviving wife. It is William Ashenden who holds the key to the deep mystery of love, and the act of love, in the life of each character as he recounts a fascinating literary history of creativity, infidelity and literary memory.

She was a very simple woman. Her instincts were healthy and ingenuous. She loved to make people happy. She loved love... She was naturally affectionate. When she liked anyone it was quite natural for her to go to bed with him. She never thought twice about it. It was not vice; it was not lasciviousness; it was her nature. She gave herself as naturally as the sun gives heat or the flowers their perfume. It was a pleasure to her and she liked to give pleasure to others. It had no effect on her character; she remained sincere,unspoiled, and artless...You see, she wasn't a woman who ever inspired love. Only affection. It was absurd to be jealous over her. She was like a clear, deep pool in a forest glade into which it's heavenly to plunge, but it is neither less cool nor less crystalline because a tramp and a gypsy and a gamekeeper have plunged into it before you.

~~ the promiscuous nature of the 1st Mrs Driffield being glossed over.

Fun, sometimes slightly dark character study (what Maugham is known for) but not one of my favorites among his works, though by this post you may see that there were a number of memorable quotes scattered throughout the text. Lots of English locales here that are also found in most of his books -- Tercanbury, Blackstable, etc. There's also a ton of little history lessons throughout the text for my fellow history buffs. Learned about some people I hadn't heard much about before. Agnes Sorel I knew of, but I now also know of Miss Maria Fitzherbert, lover of George, Prince of Wales in the late 1700s, and Emma, Lady Hamilton, the lover of Horatio Nelson, officer in the Royal Navy and 1st Duke of Bronte. The character of Edward Driffield references the German philosopher, Immanuel Kant as well as the Fall of Bastille (French Revolution). Other historical moments referenced include the popularity of such musicians as Tosti, popular painters (Lawrence Alma-Tadema, Sir Peter Lely, Samuel Scott, El Greco, Sisely, G.F. Watts and Titian -- specifically "Entombment of Christ"), references to now vintage food and pharmaceutical products such as Bemax -- a vitamin supplement -- and Rye-Vita, a brand of rye biscuit, Rye House (a residence once belonging to writer Henry James), the Daimler motor car (Mercedes Benz) and humorous descriptions of the production and popularity of the safety bicycle:

I wheeled the bicycle to a road not far away which I knew was perfectly flat and straight and so solitary that no one would see me making a fool of myself. I tried several times to mount, but fell off each time. I barked my shins against the pedals and got very hot and bothered. After I had been doing this for about an hour, though I began to think that God did not intend for me to ride a bicycle, but was determined to do so all the same, to my disgust I saw two people on bicycles coming along the deserted road. I immediately wheeled my machine to the side and sat down on a stile, looking out to sea in a nonchalant way as though I had been for a ride and were just sitting there wrapped in contemplation of the vasty ocean. ~ Willie Ashenden (narrator of story) trying to learn how to ride a safety bicycle

Example of a Tosti song below:

Example of song by composer Maude Valerie White

Opera singer Nellie Melba performing "My Jo"

Recording from 1913

"Welcome Footsteps" by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema (circa 1883)

I had read too many novels and had learnt too much at school not to know a good deal about love, but I thought it was a matter that only concerned young people. I could not conceive that a man with a beard, who had sons as old as I, could have any feelings of that sort. I thought when you married that was all finished. That people over thirty should be in love seemed to me rather disgusting. ~ Willie Ashenden :-P the young are so cute....

"Entombment of Christ" by Titian (circa 1520)

Daimler motor car, Mercedes-Benz Company

There are a number of powerful, related themes in this one -- we've all experienced people hiding their true characters under a facade, living under the guise of "I keep it real" without divulging the small print to that statement. We've all heard little rumors / secrets within relationships of those we know and love and it's a common thread of thought to ponder over the glorification of celebrity life. All these ideas are explored in this novel.

THE NARROW CORNER

Summary via Shelfari: Filled with adventure, passion, and intrigue, The Narrow Corner is a classic tale of the sea by one of the twentieth-century's finest writers. Island hoping across the South Pacific, the esteemed Dr. Saunders is offered passage by Captain Nichols and his companion Fred Blake, two men who appear unsavory, yet any means of transportation is hard to resist. The trip turns turbulent, however, when a vicious storm forces them to seek shelter on the remote island of Kanda. There these three men fall under the spell of the sultry and stunningly beautiful Louise, and their story spirals into a wicked tale of love, murder, jealousy, and suicide. Meet Louise, sequestered from life and civilization on her father's island plantation near Malaya. Like the enchantress in the old tale, she will lure men to their destruction. A group of men, an odd lot, come to visit Louise's father. In each of them she ignites a flame that soon blazes into an inferno, consuming sultry passions, leaving dying embers of tragedy - and death!

Dr. Leo Stanley, chief surgeon at San Quentin Prison
(this image reminded me of the description of Dr. Saunders below)

Dr. Saunders was not a great reader. He seldom opened a novel. Interested in character, he liked books that displayed the oddities of human nature, and he had read over and over again Pepys and Boswell's Johnson, Florio's Montaigne and Hazlitt's essays. He liked old travel books, and he could peruse with pleasure the accounts in Hakluyt of countries he had never been to. He had at home a considerable library of the books written about China by the early missionaries. He read neither for information nor to improve his mind, but sought in books occasion for reverie. He read with a sense of humor peculiar to himself, and was able to get out of the narratives of missionary enterprise an amount of demure fun which would have much surprised the authors. He was a quiet man, of agreeable discourse, but not one to force his conversation on you, and he could enjoy his little joke without forcing a desire to impart it to another. ~~ The Narrow Corner

Not going to lie, this one was a bit of a slow read for me, though there were some great observations about life and nature. I appreciate that Maugham branched out of his normal England, but the story didn't pull me in as I had hoped. You figure "oooh South Seas... sexy!" - not necessarily. What may have gone wrong here (for me anyway) was a small fault in Maugham himself. He had a rep for being a bit of a sexist, one of the "a woman's place is in the kitchen and men are the decision makers" crowd, common trait for his male characters in his books. Check out how he relates a woman's beauty to the functionality of a good table *insert eye roll*:

The doctor as a rule was not captivated by feminine beauty; he could not think but the manner in which a woman's frame was made for obvious physiological purposes much detracted from its aesthetic appeal. Just as a table should be solid, of a convenient height and roomy, so a woman should be large-breasted and broad in the beam; but in both cases beauty could only be an adjunct to utility. You might say that a table which was solid, roomy and of a convenient height was beautiful, but the doctor preferred to say that it was solid, roomy and of a convenient height. **sound of crickets** Well, that kills the doctor fantasy.... ladies - go for firemen instead ;-)

As long as you're not offended by that (remember, part of it could have just been him being a product of his era), then the guy is one talented writer. I'm pretty liberal minded for the most part so I can let a lot roll off me, as far as seemingly offensive behavior. It takes something major to shock me anymore. But I think Maugham's view on women might have affected his ability to write an sort of gripping romance that would strongly appeal to women readers. I think he tried here to write a sort of dark, steamy romance but it fell short. Not unlikely if you think the best thing about a woman is her ability to make a killer sandwich or put a mean crease line in your slacks :-P. Reading this book though, the mild sexism might not seem so bad when you take into account the usage of profanity and racial slurs. It felt like a heavier usage here than in Maugham's other works, but then again the plot involves sailor characters, so I'm not sure if it was put in as historical context. Still, that part made for some uncomfortable reading for me.

"Legend of the True Cross (Queen of Sheba meeting Solomon)"

by Piero della Francesca, painter mentioned in

The Narrow Corner

"Cottage By The Sea" by Thomas Kinkade

The sea was quite calm…The dawn slid between the low, wooded islands, gravely, with a deliberate calmness that seemed to conceal an inward apprehension, and you felt it natural and even inevitable that men should have personified it in a maiden. It had indeed the shyness and the grace of a young girl, the charming seriousness, the indifference and the ruthlessness. The sky had the washed-out color of an archaic statue. The virgin forests on each side of them still held the night, but then insensibly the grey of the sea was shot with the soft hues of a pigeon's breast. There was a pause, and with a smile the day broke. Sailing between those uninhabited islands, on that still sea, in a silence that strange and exciting impression of the beginning of the world. There man might never have passed and you had a feeling that what your eyes saw had never been seen before. You had a sensation of primeval freshness, and all the complication of the generations disappeared. A stark simplicity, so bare and severe as a straight line, filled the soul with rapture. Dr. Saunders knew at that moment the ecstasy of the mystic.

I love that feeling!! The page after this gorgeous observation on the beauty of life holds an interesting observation about accepting one's inevitable death one day:

It's a question of age you know. The old are much more easily frightened than the young. I couldn't help thinking it rather funny at the time that I, who had so much less to lose than you who've got all your life before you, should dread losing it so much more than you did.

Never thought of it that way before, but I thought that was a neat point. Okay... Pt. 2 coming up.....

Quick Meade Read - April 2012

2012-04-04T04:24:00.000-04:00

"Fire Fancies" by Arthur Hacker (1858-1919)

It will be Poverty Castle, my loves, and we'll have to stint and scrape and contrive; but at any rate we'll be merry when we can be merry, and we'll forget our troubles in doing good to others. ~~ Aunt Susy in A Modern Tomboy

Just a quick suggestion on a cutesy L.T. Meade novel to check out if you like. This one is unique in that it had a slightly darker tone than most of her works, but in a humorous way. It's sweet, but not so much so that it's sickening. It feels more real in a way, I guess because in this one, the world is shown as still potentially beautiful despite being less than rosy-colored. There is something apropos about it, given these modern days of recession, in that a professor and his wife, finding hard financial times, decide to open their home as a boarding school for girls simply to make ends meet, calling it "Sunnyside" (funny, when you consider the inspiration for opening the school in the first place).

One student, Rosamund Cunliffe, turns out to be the rebel in the crowd. She struggles with rules and conformity in general. She doesn't see the purpose and resents the attempts made on her to stifle her passion for being free and living. Rosamund feels that school is just a place where you're told what living is like, rather than being given the chance to experience yourself... least not til one is older. I certainly knew that infuriating feeling of being imprisoned myself as a child!

It is a curious fact that there are some weak but loving people who are not loved in return. If they are sincere and honest they always inspire respect. If they are at the same time unselfish, that noble quality must also tell in the long run. But to look at them is not to love them, and consequently, they go through life with a terrible heart-longing unknown to their fellow men, only known to the God above, who will doubtless reward these simple and earnest and remarkably beautiful souls in His own good time in another world. Such a person was Emily Frost. She was very patient, very brave, very unselfish; but no one particularly cared for her. She knew this quite well; she had a passionate hunger for love, but it was not bestowed upon her. She was well educated and could teach splendidly, but she could never arouse enthusiasm in her pupils. A far less highly educated woman could do twice the amount poor Miss Frost could ever achieve, simply because she possessed the gift denied to the latter.

Gibson Girl Gone Golfing

Fate, luck, circumstances, whatever you want to call it, puts Rosamund in the path of the ridiculously wealthy widow, Lady Ashleigh and her even more ridiculously spoiled daughter, Irene. Irene is a few years younger than preteen Rosamund. For reasons unknown, the wild, bohemian Irene responds to Rosamund's more calm nature. For the first time in her life, Irene tones down her bossy nature and starts to act like something resembling a young lady! But it's not all smooth sailing. Irene, much like an addict trying to reform themselves, falls off the goody-goody wagon a number of times, continuing to play malicious pranks on her mother's estate staff, one of the worst being an incident where Irene, acting unusually sweet to her nanny Emily Frost (nicknamed "Frosty" by Irene, perhaps partly as a joke for her prim, serious behavior), attends to the woman one day when said nanny doesn't feel quite herself. Pretending to get Frosty's digestive pills, Irene actually trades them out for white woodlice (you may be more familiar with their other name, "roly-poly" bugs)

Yeah... little brat made Frosty eat these!!

Not that it matters, after all, how we get our diseases; the thing is to cure them when we have acquired them. ~~ The professor in a moment of naivety in A Modern Tomboy

>>> an interesting link between a couple of Meade's stories for those that follow her works -- in this book,

dyptheria outbreaks are mentioned, as is "the new treatment of antitoxin". In another of Meade's works, Sweet Girl Graduate, the outbreak used is that of typhoid. <<<<<<<<

"The Blue Rowboat" by Claude Monet

There was a line in this book - about Irene wearing "a garish red dress",

sailing on the lake in "a blue sailboat tipped in white" -

such a simple line but it created such an image in my mind!

Girls' Edwardian Costume

(how I kinda pictured Irene's "garish red dress")

Parts of this book reminded me of a Tim Burton movie - what with Irene's red dress, the blue boat tipped in white, and Irene insisting on calling her mother "Mumsy-Pums". The vivid colors and patterns described, the quirky characters, dream-like estates the lower classes aspire to ... such a cool era!

Not sure if this book was one written in a rush or what, but I found a few continuity issues within the story.

** Aunt Susy, the aunt of Lucy (Lucy's mother owns and runs Sunnyside School) tells the story of the unexpected death of her twin sister. The story explains Susy as Lucy's maternal aunt -- that kind of story would've never come up before? Her own mother wouldn't have mentioned losing a sister??

***Lucy's father, the professor, is described as having black hair at the beginning of the story, but in less than a year's time his hair is described as white, with no explanation given.

There are multiple themes running throughout this story -- the pain and damage one experiences as a result of being bullied, the power of a reformed spirit, beauty in friendship, in fighting through life's barriers. Everything to leave you uplifted. :-)

Casanova: His Known & Unknown Life by Guy Endore

2012-03-26T18:54:00.000-04:00

*** I intended to publish this post a few days back but the hubby got chest congestion which led to me battling a nasty sinus cold so my concentration on this was less than full on, to say the least. Thanks for hanging in there readers! ***

"Le Verrou" (The Bolt) by Jean Honore Fragonard

There's something appealing to me about one now obscure writer writing a biography on another. I have just a few of Samuel Guy Endore's novels in my library because editions seem to be so scare nowadays. If you find one, give it a try - he's got a brilliant smoothness to his writing. In this instance though, he puts aside the fiction and writes this scholarly work. But even this bio read like a novel for me! I don't know if that's due to Endore's skills as a writer or just because Casanova is such an intriguing subject. Maybe a bit of both.

Guy Endore

Giacomo (Jacob) Girolamo Casanova (1725-1798) is most commonly known as the legendary lothario, up there with Don Juan. His accomplishments extended outside of 18th century boudoirs though. He also held the titles of hedonist, gambler, traveler, scholar, mathematician, philosopher, intellectual, librarian, government spy, Freemason, compulsive writer, matchmaker (he had a tendency to find new amores for his romantic liaison cast-offs), aristocrat (later in life), felon... others called him a magician, an imposter -- the "imposter" label probably came from the old money types who didn't like Casanova's ability to earn and spend like a rap mogul and throw back a few with the social elite, kicking back at places like Chateau Chambord (a chateau mentioned in one of my Tour of France posts). There was even speculation that he may have been Jesuit. He liked to be one of a kind. He hated (or maybe just felt threatened by) fellow adventurerers who led similar lives of gambling, travel, numerous loves, etc.

Balla' - 1700s style!

As far as the writing thing goes, I have a sneaking suspicion Casanova had a strong case of hypergraphia. It's not specifically noted in this book, but there are descriptions of Casanova's numerous books and pamphlets. Whenever money allowed, Casanova seemed to constantly be sending new works to printers though very few of these publications found many readers in his lifetime. Even now, though you can find works about the guy easy enough, it's a bit of a treasure hunt to find the stuff actually written by the man himself. The easiest title to find copies of is of the autobiography itself. Problem is, Endore points out that Casanova wrote four different versions of this book and each version is full of embellishments and chronological inaccuracies. It seems Casanova didn't like pesky or boring facts get in the way of a killer story ;-) .

Heath Ledger in his film portrayal of Giacomo Casanova

photo by Greg Gorman

There's a good deal of strangeness surrounding Casanova's autobiography. Aside from all the inaccuracies, there's also the fact that he dated the book "my life up to 1797" but the book stops at the year 1774. No one is quite sure why. Maybe he got bored with the project and quit writing (from what I've read of him, this seems unlikely but possible). It's also possible -- and theorized by some scholars -- that he did in fact finish up to the year 1797 but perhaps mentioned something someone else didn't want publicized, so the pages mentioning those years might have been destroyed. And the errors -- what were the intentions behind the errors, the blatant contradictions and flat - out lies? Was it out of carelessness? Forgetfulness? Was he trying to throw sand in the face of his enemies, hiding secrets out in the open? Or was it just that he wanted credit for events he was involved with but not blame lol. If only he was around to set the record straight!

Their cynicism passes all bounds...the more I write, the more I am convinced that my work is meant to be burnt. ~~~ Casanova on his own memoirs

Giacomo Casanova

In his autobio, Casanova gives his height as 5'9 but Endore

explains that by today's measuring standards, his height

fell just under 6'2.

Could've been part of his appeal, maybe?

Being the tall, dark guy in the room?

"Casanova would have been a splendid-looking man if he had not been so ugly. He was tall, built like Hercules, but with an almost African complexion; his eyes were bright and quick, frank and intelligent, but they indicated an uneasy susceptibility and a vindictive ferocity; it was easier to make him angry than make him laugh. In fact he seldom laughed, even when he brought everyone else to laughter. He had a way about him, a very charming way... he knew everything, except those things which he prided himself upon knowing -- such as the rules of dancing, of the French language, of good taste and breeding and of conduct in high society...He was touchy and grateful; but when he was displeased, he was grumbling, bitter and altogether detestable. With a million you could not have bought back his good will once you had offended him with a joke at his expense." ~~~ Prince de Ligne on Casanova

haven't read this one by Endore mentions that Zola used

incidents from Casanova's life as inspiration (in part) for

this book

This guy seemed to be the Gene Simmons of his day. He lays claim to 116 female conquests! Okay, so maybe not quite in Simmons territory but still a pretty hefty number among men, even by today's standards. Even in his autobiography, Casanova tried to be careful about concealing the true identities of these women, only naming them by initials for the most part (though Endore points out a few spots where hints to identity were dropped). A number of the rumored liasions were with noble women (though he wasn't too proud for the occasional literal roll in the hay with a mammarific milkmaid now and then). I wonder, if your wife sleeps with someone of Casanova's reputation, does the husband get offended or is part of him flattered that his wife was thought so tempting? The funny part in all of this is that of all the conquests Casanova claimed, only one, Francesca Buschini, can be undisputably verified and that is through her correspondence with him that survived both their lifetimes.

Also, I was unaware that this sort of thing was documented very thoroughly in Casanova's time but in this book Endore claims that Casanova suffered from at least 11 different STDs!

"La Lettera" by Jean Honore Fragonard

...for what causes the delights of my life has nothing to do with the place where I dwell. When I am not sleeping, I dream, and when I am tired of dreaming, I grind out black on paper, then I read and more often than not I reject all that my pen has vomited. ~~~ Giacomo Casanova

{life of a writer right there all summed up!!}

Casanova seemed to have a good deal of spiritual conflict for most of his life. He was an abbe during his early adult years but it seems he really had to fight his liking for the ladies. He writes in his autobio of these beautiful women who would see him as just an abbe, so they would sit casually next to him or feel comfortable laying languidly in his presence. His descriptions reminded me of that classic character in romantic comedies -- you know, the guy that pretends to be gay so women will open up to him but then it ends up backfiring with the girl falling for the guy, then exclaiming "But no! I can't!"

In his later years, perhaps because his popularity with the ladies had waned, Casanova drifted back to his religious roots, often writing moral pieces that chastised the promiscuous. He preached more and more than chastity would bring people closer to their God, but I still say at least some of this proselytizing was due to his lack of action with the ladies. If he couldn't have his fun he could at least guilt people out of theirs!

Casanova brought to the silver screen

Regarding his "felon" years, Casanova was thrown into "The Leads" -- or Piombi by its Italian name -- Prison (nicknamed for the lead plates on its roof) for allegedly being a practicing Freemason in a Catholic community -- I'm guessing because of the mystery around the Freemasons, they probably seemed cult-like to the Catholic church, though to be fair, it's not like the Catholic church hasn't had their own rumors of secret, mysterious behavior over the centuries. He served some time there but eventually got restless, oddly enough lol, and managed to figure out a successful escape. Even more odd, no one went after him and he went on to write his memoir on the experience, Escape From The Leads. Some years later, he wound up in prison again, this time in Spain, but there he was made to stick out his term so he wrote letters to every high ranking person he knew. Surprisingly, those letters actually did bring about the first tricklings of prison reform in the area (even though by that time -- his time in Spain -- Casanova's appeal had started to fade, along with his looks. He was just starting to phase into the angry-old-man-constantly -writing-complaint-letters-type that few took seriously anymore).

"Equestrian Portrait of Prince Wenzel Anton Kaunitz-Reitberg"
by Francesco Casanova, Giacomo Casanova's brother.
Francesco was hired as Prince Kaunitz's royal painter.

Aside from Francesca Buschini, there are two ladies that Casanova mentions a bit more than the rest, the first being Therese Imer, who later became a beloved opera singer by the name of Madame Trenti. Casanova claimed that when he ran into her years after their initial coupling, Teresa swore he fathered her daughter, Sophie, even showing him a baptismal record with the girl's birthdate (I guess basically telling him "you do the math" lol). He acknowledged that he saw resemblance between himself and the girl but ...

As to that strange encounter with Therese Imer, wife of Pompeati, we have full records with exact dates that leave no doubt that Sophie was not Casanova's daughter. We do know that Casanova corresponded with the little girl and had a deep fatherly love for her, for he sent her at least one present to which she replied in a childish letter, thanking him... Casanova preserved this letter throughout forty years of stormy life. It was found lately among his manuscripts. ~~~ Guy Endore 1929

If that wasn't bad enough, Therese somehow convinced Casanova to take her son with him (who knows who the father of that kid was) and try to use his connections to introduce the boy to good society! It seemed she didn't really know what to do with a boy so she pawned him off on Casanova. Mother of the Year material there! But it's funny how Lady Karma ends up finding such people, given time. Years after pawning her son off on Casanova, Therese and Sophie set up residence in the Carlisle House (I tried to find a pic of this house but I'm not sure if the building still exists. There was a Carlisle House that was later named the London Inn which fit the time period of all these people but that building was demolished in the late 1800s with a new London Inn being built near the spot -- but I don't know if this was the same place). At the Carlisle House, Therese held 24 lavish balls and extravagant dinners per year, featuring music performed by such greats as Bach and Abel. Least until she went bankrupt that is. Girl couldn't balance an account to save herself and ended up dying in Fleet Prison (a common prison for debtors).

He then went on to give his fickle heart to Manon Balleti, one of many women he proposed. Manon was the closest he came to fulfilling the offer. They made plans to marry but then Casanova decided to go to Holland. Manon's family was under the assumption that he did this to build up some wealth before marrying Manon, but really I think it was just a case of cold feet, a "runaway groom" of sorts ;-) Casanova met up with a number of old flames and acquaintances, including Therese again (pre-Fleet Prison residency obviously). He forgets about Manon until one night -- oops! -- he runs into her at a theater while trying to put his moves on another girl! This had been about a year since his leaving for Holland. I can just picture that moment him saying "oooh heeey gurl, how you been?" LOL.

Noblewoman At The Opera, 1770s

"Manon Balleti" by Jean-Marc Nattier (1757)

Manon was once engaged to Casanova

Not sure what he said, but Casanova was able to work things out with Manon, at least for awhile. They returned to Paris together, where he and Manon took up residence at Petit-Pologne (Little Poland) estate. Eventually the union fizzled out and they went their separate ways.

There was one other woman who had an interesting link to Casanova, though she was not one of his own love affairs. Guistiniana Wynne was bethrothed to an English nobleman in his 60s. She wanted out of the arrangement. She fell desperately in love with Andrea Memno and had a child out of wedlock with him (the baby was given up for adoption). There was such a scandal surrounding the whole affair that Wynne escaped from Venice,exhiling herself in London. She went on to marry Count von Rosenberg (who, by the way, was just as old as the original "icky old guy" she was engaged to), Austrian Ambassador to Venice, becoming respectable Madame von Rosenberg, allowing her to return to Venice with her head held high above those who previously scoffed at her youthful, romantic impetuousness. The count died shortly after the marriage. His widow, now a respectable titled widow, spent her later years devoting her life to literary endeavors, hosting salons in Venice for artistic and literary people, as well as writing moral stories for boys and girls. Her affair with Andrea Memno is the subject of the book A Venetian Affair by Andrea di Robilant (just one of many on my TBR list). As for Casanova's part, he tried to help Wynne in the matter but was later imprisoned for his involvement.

Casanova did some 18th century couch crashing at his brother Francois' place whenever the ladies had tapped his savings too hard. While he had other brothers, Casanova and Francois shared a "party hardy" mentality, constantly living outside of their means. Casanova decided to come up with a plan to save his brother's finances (to which I said... "Dude, what about your finances?? You're crashing at your brother's!"

The plan wasn't complex, but it worked. Basically, Casanova went all Joe Pesci on his brother's clients. He went after every person that had commissioned a painting but didn't pay or hadn't picked their painting up. He then went on a mission to drum up new clients. In no time, all debts were paid off. Casanova then pulled the "bros before hoes" card and convinced his brother to run off to Germany with him, leaving Francois' icy, frigid wife (or so she was described) to fend for herself. Things didn't end well for her, but according to Endore, it might not have been entirely her fault:

His wife {Francois'}, a pretty creature, told Giacomo that her husband's lack of virility was slowly killing her. Sexually impotent he yet loved her and she loved him, and she refused to take a lover. Casanova records that her continence soon caused her death. It was one of his staunchest beliefs , one that he retained to his dying day, that lack of sexual expression is followed by mortal illness.

I can just see my husband trying to keep me busy after reading this! I can just hear him, "Mortal illness, Angie! Is that what you want for the man you love??" LOL... oooh boys. Still, if Francois' wife had mentioned to Casanova about her husband's condition, I wonder why she was still considered "icy" and deserving of being left on her own? Relationships are such layered things sometimes...

Mario Bros keepin' it real..

Your brother's got your back!

Mario & Luigi visited with family in Germany but got restless so they headed to Vienna. Wonder if that's like when a guy and his crew hits up Vegas? :-P

"Stolen Kiss" by Jean Honore Fragonard

In Vienna, they met Prince Kaunitz, Prince de Ligne, who hired Francois as his royal painter, but again Francois blew threw his salary pretty quick, even taking on a mistress (and it's like I tell my husband, if you have a windfall you don't know how to spend, all ya gotta do is ask me, I'm here to help ;-) ). By 1803 Francois was declared bankrupt by the courts and died a few weeks after the ruling from good ol' "consumption".

"Giovanni Giacomo Casanova Chevalier de Saingalt,
with the Young Comtesse at Venice "
by Auguste Leroux

Casanova's life can be considered a cautionary tale in relying on your looks to get you by in life. True, he had to have some wits and ingenuity, the way he was able to lose and gain massive fortunes over and over again. He was virtually penniless by the time he reached "old age" (he was 58 at the time, old for then but funny to think of it as such now). He didn't fully accept getting older until he had lost his last real tooth and was forced to embrace porcelain dentures.

Casanova was banned from his native Venice for 16 years thanks to the Inquistion going on there, being a "person of interest", I guess. He was allowed to live on a nearby island (not Poveglia ;-) ), writing to the Inquisiton board for years, essentially begging to be allowed back into the city.After many years, he was eventually allowed back in and even talked his way into a position as a government spy for the Inquistion Board! He held the position for 7 years until the Board finally caught on that they weren't really getting much better intel than your average Neighborwood Watch.

Monty Python Inquisition sketch

the "Inquisition Song" from

History Of The World Pt. 1

gotta love Mel Brooks!

He spent the last thirteen years of his life as librarian at Dux Castle, the home of Count Waldenstein. By 1793, he became so depressed with old age, the loss of his looks, the deaths of so many good friends that he actually sat down and wrote down the pros and cons of suicide and the reasons he'd want to stay alive -- actually a productive way to talk oneself down I thought. Guess he had more checks in the "tough it out" box because he ended up having a few more years yet. Casanova died June 4th, 1798 at the age of 73. Carlo Angiolini (who was married to Casanova's niece) and Casanova's dog, Finette were the only ones present at the legendary lover's passing.

On his grave a decent plinth was placed and above that a little cross of iron. It is related that the cross soon fell from its socket and lay on the ground half-concealed among the tall grass. And it is further said that on dark nights passing girls caught their skirts on its hooks.

Hehe.. player to the end!

So I managed to get this post knocked out! I had to put my normally happy-to-be-eco-friendly self to the side for the time being and indulge in some nice hot showers (the steam cloud being the one place I can currently regain almost full sinus function!). Between that and a constant brewing of honey infused herbal teas to wash back the Coricidin and (again, I apologize for the non - green living here) a slew of tissue boxes practically fused to my hand, I am managing to remain semi-functional, so hang in there, more posts coming shortly!

Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Books

2012-03-13T03:42:00.002-04:00

Mowgli with Bagheera the Panther

Kaa's advice to Mowgli:

"A brave heart and a courteous tongue, they shall

carry thee far through the Jungle, Manling."

Ohhh so true!

After reading about all dem lions, I decided to revisit The Jungle Books by Rudyard Kipling. I still like the stories but it's funny when you re-read something as an adult that you remember from your childhood and it's not exactly how you remember it. When I was a kid, I just saw the stories as cute tales about jungle animals and that's about it. As an adult, I was surprised at how much moralizing is written between the lines! No wonder, as I read up and found that that was Kipling's plan all along. He wanted to take all these lessons he'd learned over a lifetime and write them down in a way that children might benefit from them early on in life. Seeing as how I didn't even notice that element as a child, it's hard to say if the morals took lol. Thinking about it though, aside from the usual struggles with temptation -- maybe consuming more sugar than I should, occassionally letting impatience get the best of me, that sort of thing -- I think in general I came out a decent person after all. So maybe there was something to Kipling's idea... hmmm... sneaky.

Rudyard Kipling as a young man

The "rules" and hierarchy system the jungle animals set up for themselves are what I found most appealing as an adult reader. This is the kind of stuff I didn't really grasp fully as a child. Life lessons abound! For example:

Mowgli is a boy who wanders into the jungle one day and seems to be an orphan. He's taken in by the jungle wolves and over the years grows up learning that he is allowed to hunt anything for food except cattle because his place in the wolf pack was "purchased" by Bagheera the panther (who took up the role as a sort of surrogate parent) when Bagheera gave the wolf pack a freshly killed bull. {Acknowledge / Respect those who sacrificed for you}
The "Call of Protection" : Baloo The Bear teaches Mowgli this call, the wording of the call (which, in the story is basically a poem sort of greeting stated aloud) varying between species. It's used as sort of a truce or peace greeting. If Mowgli uses the Call of Protection towards a fellow jungle dweller, it is forbidden by jungle law for him to be attacked by that animal. This goes for all animals except for monkeys. Kaa the python says that monkeys have no hierarchy or language of their own, they just use bits and pieces of language and structure that they've stolen from other species, jumbling it all together until it's pretty much nonsensical.{We may all be different but there's commonality among all animals}
When a period of drought and famine hits the jungle, Hathi the elephant, considered Master Of The Jungle, calls a Water Truce, where "flesh eaters" (carnivores) are forbidden from hunting and are expected to eat plants until the truce is lifted. The truce is put into effect because Hathi sees that all the animals are too weakened from malnourishment, so in the heat of the night the carnivores and herbivores gather together at the Peace Rock with the nearly dried out riverbed (but the coolest part in the jungle, from the water that remains) and tell stories of better times or share hard time experiences. {Don't kick someone when they're down ; sometimes you hear it phrased as "There by the Grace of God go I" }

Jungle Mural
"And only when there is one great Fear over all, as there is now, can we of the Jungle lay aside our little fears, and meet together as we do now." ~~~ Hathi, Master Of The Jungle

During this time, Khan The Lame Tiger disregards the truce, deciding to hunt as he pleases. He kills a man in a nearby village and then comes back to the riverbed to basically gloat about the incident. He also rinses off his paws in the river, tainting the remaining water with the blood of man.

Yellow Python

In The Jungle Book, Kaa The Python believed that

poison snakes were cowards! :-P

Mowgli had a bit of a tough time in the jungle. Bagheera, Baloo and Kaa developed a sort of system for watching out for Mowgli, keeping him safe and educating him about the ways of the jungle, but young Mowgli suuuure kept those guys running! He always seemed to be getting into some sort of scrape! The worst incident being when Mowgli gets kidnapped by those "evil mooonkeys" Kaa said had no hierarchy. The monkeys are not considered as part of the clan amongst the jungle animals partly because of the hierarchy / language thing and partly because they live up in trees instead of down on the ground (not sure how that's different from the birds or Kaa himself.. there's a ton of animals that live in the trees, but that's how Kaa explains it in the story). The monkeys carry Mowgli kicking and screaming to the "Cold Lairs" - ancient civilization ruins where monkeys and wild boars like to live. The other animals avoid the Lairs, except in times of drought when water sometimes pools there. Luckily, Mowgli manages to yell out a Call of Protection to a bird passing by, hoping that in his panic he's doing the right call. The bird takes the jungle SOS, tracks down Kaa and the guys and tells them what he saw. So then, they're in a mad race to get to Mowgli before the monkeys do something stupid.

Mowgli and "King Louie" in the Cold Lairs

In the book, it's said that monkeys have no hierarchy,

but Disney, in their 1967 interpretation / watered-down version,

created "King Louie" the boisterous orangutan.

Interesting addition, since orangutans are actually apes.

"I Wanna Be Like You" song from The Jungle Book (1967)

Kaa, Baloo and Bagheera trying to save Mowgli from the monkeys turns into this epic jungle battle where pretty much any animal within hollerin' distance lends a hand to get the "Man-Cub" back. Mowgli, ducking into one of the ruins, uses the Snake Call (Call of Protection), bringing a swarm of cobras to his aid. Kaa is strongest opponent of the monkeys. He is the only animal they fear, because being a python, he sometimes steals monkey babies or elders for food (now you might see why Disney rose-colored the hell outta this story, filling it with jazzy song and dance numbers instead of images like Kaa digesting baby monkeys or Khan The Lame Tiger mauling a guy!).

Generations of monkeys had been scared into good behavior by the stories their elders told them of Kaa, the night-thief, who could slip along the branches as quietly as moss grows, and steal away the strongest monkey that ever lived; of old Kaa, who could make himself look so like a dead branch or a rotten stump that the wisest were deceived, til the branch caught them. Kaa was everything that the monkeys feared in the jungle, for none of them could look him in the face, and none had ever come alive out of his hug.

Kaa and the guys win the battle and get Mowgli out of the Cold Lairs safely. Kaa tells Mowgli what's coming next is not for the young boy to see (hinting that he was getting ready to kill all the monkeys), so he sends Mowgli back home to rest. Later on in the story, more dramas hit Mowgli, such as being rejected by his Wolf Pack. He does a stint in a local village, trying life as a village youth but finds he's not too fond of having to spend his days farming and shepherding herds or being yelled at when he screws up rather than hunting, napping and scarfing bananas with Baloo. Can't blame the poor guy - who would relish that kind of transition?

Mowgli in the village

Interesting little bit from the book - Mowgli is described as being able to walk 9 mph --

Well, I looked it up and, to date, the average walking speed
for humans is between 3-5 mph.... Dude can truck it! ;-)

Mowgli uses one of the herds he's left to shepherd to get back at the hated Khan. One of the other people in the village sees what he does and runs back to the village claiming Mowgli is really a witch who can summon the animals at will. The couple that had taken in Mowgli as one of their own are also accused of sorcery. The villagers decide to burn the couple at the stake (seriously!). Mowgli devises a plan that saves the couple and gets them to safety but because of the experience he develops a hatred toward man, except for Messua, the woman who acted as his foster mother in the village. Messua believed Mowgli to be her actual son she lost to the jungle years before, but after some questioning and figuring, Mowgli knows he's not the missing son. Still, she continued to accept him as such.

Messua in Disney's The Jungle Book

After guiding Messua and her husband to safety, Mowgli returns to the jungle but not to the old wolf pack. He feels he's been shunned by both foster families, so he decided to be a wolf pack of one (that's right, I said it Hangover fans). He goes off and lives around his old friends but more off by himself until Kipling hints that one day adult Mowgli goes off and gets married. Nothing else is really mentioned of it other than saying it happens, so not sure if he brought Mrs. Mowgli back to the man cave or what.

"Wolf Pack Of One" speech from The Hangover

baby jackals

Kipling gives a vivid description of what he calls the "jungle pheeal":

"It was what they called in the Jungle the pheeal, a hideous kind of shriek that the jackal

gives when he is hunting behind a tiger, or when there is a big killing afoot. If you

can imagine a mixture of hate, triumph, fear and despair, with a kind of leer

running through it, you will get some kind of notion of the pheeal that

rose and sank and wavered and quavered far away across the Waingunga."

So there's a bunch here as far as laws, hierarchy, friends having your back, etc that a reader could easily find relatable. There are some gruesome parts (again, must have blocked that out as a kid lol) but there's also a good deal of sweetness, of taking the cards you're dealt and appreciating what you have. A tippa the hat to Kipling for giving me that gentle reminder.

So with that said, I want to leave you all with my favorite song from the Disney movie. I still remember being about 9 yrs old, going to the theater to see this movie with my Aunt Chrissy (not in the 60s of course but for a re-release in the 90s lol) right after she got back from her Peace Corps stint in Ecuador, and me humming this song in my head the rest of the day -- hell, I still sing this song on a bad day .. Enjoy:

Born Free Trilogy with Elsa the Lioness

2012-03-09T06:23:00.000-05:00

Elsa & Joy

After reading about Morrison's travels through Africa in From Lotos To Cherry Blossom, I decided to pull out my copies of the Born Free trilogy. They'd been on my "to read" list for awhile, figured I'd knock them out as all are pretty short reads. I remember my mom talking about these books when I was a kid, and I vaguely remember seeing the movie Born Free years ago. (I recently re-watched the movies Born Free and Living Free on Netflix, cute cubs but it was hard for me to get around the overacting that was prevalent in so many 60s films - the woman playing Joy seemed like she was constantly screeching at the guy playing George about everything. Seriously, not every moment in life is that epic lol).

Virginia McKenna,

played Joy in the film adaptations of Born Free,

the role was taken up by Susan Hampshire in Living Free

Bill Travers

played George Adamson in Born Free,

went on to marry Virginia McKenna in real life.

In 1984, McKenna & Travers, with their son Will,

established the wildlife non-profit Born Free Foundation.

Travers also went on to produce a number of

wildlife documentaries.

The role of George was played by Nigel Davenport

in Living Free. Not sure why the casting change was

done on the two parts but the sequel was

not received as well as Born Free.

McKenna & Travers remained close friends with the Adamsons.

McKenna and Travers with lion in Born Free

Speaking of moments of "it's not that epic", I did feel some of that in the books themselves. I lost count of the number of times Joy described the lions (Elsa or her cubs) dragging meals to the river, nearly every meal it seemed. It reminded me a bit of when I go to a friend's home who has kids and they tell me, in minute detail, about something the kid did, that, to me anyway, sounds a bit cute but also pretty ordinary but the friend will be over the moon about it. Now, before I get attacked by mom readers, I KNOW, if you don't have kids you can't understand. The closest thing I can liken it to is when one of my pets does something that seems adorable to me but to my friends would probably be a pretty "whatever" kind of moment. For that reason though, I try to keep my pet gushing to a minimum around others lol. My point being, the first few descriptions of Elsa's feedings by the river were cute, but then it started to feel like OKAAAY. Think of it as like when someone shows you their albums of vacation photos or something. The first dozen or so are pretty, but after that you start to lose focus because it wasn't your trip so it all becomes an awkward "well, I guess you had to be there" moment.

author Joy Adamson

George Adamson -

Joy's husband & Game Warden for

Northern Frontier Province of Kenya in 1960s

Elsa chillin' on a camp cot -

that would have been cool to see!

I did like the series, and I've always had an interest in animal behaviorism as a science, one of the things that initially made me curious to read these books. I have to admit though, I found Elsa's mannerisms and antics a little more interesting than her cubs. That could be because her cubs ended up being raised more in the wild than herself so Elsa, through her environment, may have naturally picked up more humanistic characteristics than her children.

Okay, so here's a basic rundown on each book in the series:

Book #1 : Born Free (1960)

Author Joy Adamson, a writer (obviously), artist and botanist is living in Isiolo, Africa with her husband, George, who serves as senior game warden for the Northern Frontier Province of Kenya. George goes out one day to investigate reports of a lion that's possibly attacking locals. He returns with three lion cubs and explains to Joy that he had to shoot the mother lion (killing her) who lunged at him. Joy, with George's help, takes up the task of weaning and raising the cubs. She names the three girl cubs "Big One", Lustica or "Jolly One" and Elsa. Once they are old enough to be off the bottle and separated, Big One and Lustica are transferred to Rotterdam-Blydorp (or Blijdorp as it's known now) Zoo. Joy finds she's developed too strong an attachment to Elsa to let her go too, so Joy and George decide to put together an experiment to see if they can take a lion raised primarily in captivity (of sorts) and have it successfully re-released completely back to a natural state (judging from this book, I'm guessing this was when animal conservation and re-release, a common practice now, was still in it's infancy?). They find a spot on the reserve, not too far away from their home in Isiolo, and with the help of locals Nuru (their assistant), Makedde (armed guard) and Ibrahaim (jeep driver), they get down to acclimating Elsa to the wild. Elsa is left in the wild by herself just overnight at first, then for days at a time, until Joy and George start to find signs that Elsa may have found a wild lion to mate with.

Joy with Big One, Lustica and Elsa as cubs

Elsa's sister, Lustica, as a cub

trying to open a bolt lock

Elsa and Joy embracing each other after a time apart --

who says animals don't have souls! :-D

I really felt for Elsa, thinking about how she had grown to be so dependent on humans and then seemingly out of nowhere to her I'm sure, she gets dumped by herself out in the wild to kind of just "figure it out". Yes, the Adamsons did camp nearby the first few weeks but they couldn't exactly tell her how to find and kill food like a lion if she was to be wild again. The Adamsons knew the importance of this work, and as hard as it was personally not to keep her has a sort of pet, they had to let go and let nature happen.

To help fund her research with Elsa and other wild species, as well as contribute to species conservation efforts in general, Joy used the proceeds from Born Free to start the now defunct foundation she named The Elsa Appeal. Joy's friend, actress Tippi Hedren (famous for her role in Alfred Hitcock's The Birds) served on the board of The Elsa Appeal.

Book #2 - Living Free (1961)

For some reason, this middle book seems harder to come by and less publicized than the other two. I had to troll around on Ebay for awhile before I came across a copy in decent shape.

So this book shows that Elsa did in fact find a wild lion to mate with, introducing the Adamsons to Elsa's new cubs, 2 boys and 1 girl. Joy dubs the boy cubs Jespah and Gopa and the girl Little Elsa. Not sure why, but there's not much talk about Gopa. Don't know if he just wasn't as interesting to watch as Jespah and Little Elsa? Maybe he was just the kind to sit there, wondering when the next meal was coming up and nothing else lol. Anyway, once she had her cubs, Elsa (whose inexplicable distrust of any and all dark African men was described in the first book) didn't seem to like any men of any kind, not even her lion mate, around those babies. In fact, the way Joy describes the father lion almost sounds like the stereotypical "deadbeat dad"

The way in which the cubs were developing into true wild lions exceeded our hopes, but their father was a great disappointment to us. No doubt we were partly to blame, for we had interferred with his relationship with his family -- but certainly he was of no help as a provider of food for them; on the contrary, he often stole their meat. Moreover, he caused us a lot of trouble. One evening he made a determined attempt to get to a goat which was inside my truck, and another time, when Elsa and the cubs were eating outside our tent, she suddenly scented him, became very nervous, sniffed repeatedly toward the bush, cut her meal short and hurriedly removed the cubs. George went out with a torch to find out what the trouble was; he had not gone three yards when he was startled by a fierce growl and saw the cubs' father hiding in a bush just in front of him. He retreated rapidly and luckily so did the lion.

I thought it was cute that this story opens with Elsa hunting a honey badger ("for sport", Joy writes) - now a popular source of comedy thanks to the introduction of this clip:

San Diego Zoo needs to hire this narrator

for their monorail tours ;-)

I was walking ahead but stopped dead at the sight of a ratel; this animal also known as a honey badger, is rarely seen. It had its back turned toward me and was so absorbed digging for grubs in the rotten wood of a fallen tree that it was quite unaware of Elsa's approach. She saw it and crept forward cautiously until she was practically on top of it.Only when their heads nearly bumped together did the ratel take in the situation; then, hissing and scratching, he attacked her with such courage and so savagely that she retreated. Using every advantage that the ground offered, the ratel made a fighting retreat, charging often, and eventually disappeared none the worse for his adventure. Elsa returned defeated and rather bewildered; plainly she was too well fed to hunt except for sport, and there was no fun to be had with such a raging playmate.

I felt this book gave me, as a reader, a better look at Elsa's personality. Much of the first book was mainly about her care in the wild and the Adamsons' struggle to let go of their hold on Elsa. At this point in Elsa's story, everyone seems to have adapted to the changes and now true colors start to come through - and Elsa is feisty!!

... Elsa hopped up on my camp bed as soon as it was made ready and looked as if she thought it the only suitable place for someone in her condition {pregnant, at this point}. From now on she took posession of it, and when next morning, as I did not feel well, I had it carried down to the studio (a place on the riverbank, overhung by the branches of a large tree where I work), she came to share it with me. This was uncomfortable, so after a time, I tipped it over and rolled her off. This indignity caused her to retire, offended, into the river reeds til the late afternoon when it was time for our walk. When I called her she stared at me intently, advanced determinedly up to my bed, stepped onto it, squatted, lifted her tail, and did something she had never done before in so unsuitable a place. Then with a very self-satisfied expression she jumped down and took the lead on our walk.

Daaammn! Saucer of milk for table 2, eh ;-). I've had one of our cats pull a similar stunt on our bed before and I swear it feels like it's out of spite sometimes! There was another pretty funny incident of Elsa's Joy describes, taking place just after the time they guessed Elsa had given birth:

The next morning I woke up to hear Elsa moaning to the cubs in a nearby thicket. Since their birth, we had never used the radio when they were in camp, so as not to frighten them. But today George turned on the morning news. Elsa appeared at once, looked at the instrument, roared at it at full strength and went on doing so until we turned it off. Then she went back to the cubs. After awhile George tuned in again, whereupon Elsa rushed back and repeated her roars until he turned it off.

Not an NPR fan, I guess lol. Or maybe she was a new mom trying to say, "OMG! Are you kidding me?? I just got them to lay down!! Shut that damn thing off!" It would have been even funnier if Elsa had come back the second time and knocked down the radio, breaking it in a million pieces as if to say "Oh, I KNOW you did not just turn that thing back on!" :-P

Living Free also shows what a badass Joy was out in the wild. Throughout the course of this story, she has a stand-off with a rhino, gets bitten by a scorpion and gets violently ill with her leg getting pretty scary looking from the way she describes it, she gets chased by poachers with guns and escapes AND survives powerful floods on the African plains! Speaking of poachers, these poachers (or maybe friends of theirs) destroy one of the camps of the Adamsons - I just found a smidge of irony in that. They're the ones breaking the laws but they destroy the game warden's camp. World's Dumbest material right there.

Proud Lions

"How splendid these lions were -- aloof, but friendly, dignified, and self possessed.

Looking at them, it was easy for me to see why the lion has always

fascinated man and become a symbol of something he admires. The king of

animals, as they have called him, is a tolerant monarch; true, he is a predator,

but predators are essential to keep the balance of wild life and he has no wish

to harm, he does not attack man unless he is persecuted for his skin or when he

is too infirm to find other more active prey. He never kills except to satisfy his

hunger, as is proved by the unconcern with which herds graze around a pride

when they know that the lions' bellies are full."

The Adamsons had a bit of an uphill battle trying to bond with the cubs in the same way they did with Elsa. It seemed they took more after their brush-native father. The cubs, presumably by their mother's rule, would never try to harm the Adamsons, despite being more wild natured. I wondered if they only mimicked Elsa's non-threatening behavior or did she in fact have a way of telling them not to harm the humans? They managed to make some progress in getting the cubs to listen to them in that they were able to successfully get the cubs to stop unruly behavior just by saying "No, No" a few times here and there (which reminded me of a mother's "count to three" method of discipline). Just as they were starting to make some headway, these incidents with the poachers came about. The cubs came dangerously close to being caught by the poachers. After escaping, the cubs' personalities seemed to flip - Jespah, who was the eldest of the cubs and more shy initially, was much more bold with Joy and George after surviving the poachers, while the other two became more guarded.

Elsa with Little Elsa

Visitors sometimes came to visit Elsa in the wild, but it didn't

always go how they might have imagined. In one instance,

Elsa makes a nighttime visit to one visitor's tent:

"... by the time he {George} got inside, Elsa had

managed to clasp her paws around Billy's neck and

held his cheekbones between her teeth.We had often

watched her do this to her cubs; it was a sign of

affection, but the effect on Billy must have been

very different." OMG! What a way to wake up!

Oh yeah, and on the topic of rhinos - Joy mentions that large game animals such as rhinos were often killed by poachers with poisoned arrows but she also says that nearby lions fed on the leftover carcasses - I wondered that the lions were not affected by the poison? Wouldn't the meat be tainted? Also, a little factoid I picked up from this book - it seems that tapeworms, while making the average human cringe at the very thought, can actually be beneficial in the GI tract of a lion. Some studies have shown that certain parasites in certain hosts actually somehow alter the immune system of the host, making them less susceptible to diseases or more minor illnesses. Not sure how that works exactly but interesting nonetheless.. Still, don't want any in my system - I'll take my Vitamin C and echinacea and call it a day, thank you lol. I can't even sit through that show Monsters Inside Me!

Elsa & Joy in a lil' snuggle :-)

Joy writes that one of Elsa's favorite treats was a mixture of

"brains, marrow, calcium supplement and cod liver oil"

yea... mmmm LOL but then, I'm not a lion.

For all I know, a lion might hate the taste of shrimp

when I can easily eat a big ol' plate of them :-D

The lions' regular diet consisted of lots of goat and guinea fowl.

Elsa & cub,

taken before Joy could determine sex of cubs

so it's not certain which cub this is

Aside from the awakening of Elsa's real personality, the other thing that interested me most about this book was Joy's interesting observations and run-ins with other members of the animal kingdom. She found hippos to be ugly "but at least they had nice voices", liking the voice to "low notes of a cello". Is that like when people say a heavy girl has a nice personality or a sweet face?? Joy also mentions that elephants were the only wild animal that frightened her... Elephants. Not cobras, not rhinos or tsetse flies or scorpions. Not even spiders the size of baseballs. Elephants. I realize they're known to charge when alarmed and can run up on you in a hurry but it's not like one wouldn't hear them coming. These are creatures that fear mice. They do! Mythbusters proved it. I saw it. I'm just thinking if you're mingling with lions day to day, you can probably hold your own with an elephant. Another "umm" moment is when she describes a yellow blackheaded weaver bird nesting in the rigging of her tent and Joy finds herself trying to help the momma bird find food for the sick baby in the nest so Joy feeds the baby an egg yolk... yeah, a baby bird eating another baby bird embryo. Not saying it's wrong if it keeps the animal alive, just an unusual "we'll laugh about this later" moment in species preservation. But I wonder if the connection dawned on Joy in the moment? If she did, in fact, chuckle about it later?

Book # 3: Forever Free (1962)

I think this was my favorite of the trilogy. This book really addressed the difficulties animal conservationists / activists face when trying to protect and preserve species. I'm not talking about the crazy conservationists that do more harm than good, but the honest, goodwill minded people who really just want to save animals, but with rational means. When people that approach environmentalism with rationality get blocked by governmental red tape and corporation greed, it is really aggravating. Reading Forever Free, the reader can feel how disheartened and frustrated the Adamsons must have been, trying to overcome such seemingly impossible obstacles. There's a lot of "1 step forward, 3 steps back" to this part of the story.

Elsa crossing the river with her cubs

Momma Elsa: "Next day, at teatime, Elsa showed me very clearly what a wonderful mother and companion she was to her cubs. The family appeared on the far bank of the river opposite the studio. I had seen a six-foot crocodile slither into the river at their approach and was therefore not surprised when the cubs paced nervously up and down the rocky platform by the river's edge, obviously frightened to jump into the deep pool beneath. Elsa licked each one in turn. then they all plunged in together and swam safely across in close formation. When the cubs relaxed and began to chase each other so as to get dry, Elsa joined in. She took Jespah's tail in her mouth and walked around in circles with him, obviously enjoying the clowning as much as he did. Eventually Jespah sat down closely to me, turning his back to me. This he did when he wanted to be petted; he seemed to realize that I was always a little afraid of being accidentally scratched by him because, unlike his mother, he had not learned to retract his claws when playing with human beings.

Apologies to my readers here, I tried to think of a way around it but I have to put in a little SPOILER ALERT here - they're my biggest personal peeve when it comes to books and movies but in this instance, I just couldn't think of how else to discuss the book without it, so look away or scroll down if you'd rather not know. This book picks up pretty much right where the last one stopped but does backtrack a bit in the opening pages and give more details regarding how Living Free ended. This on focuses on the life and future of Elsa's cubs after Elsa's death from babesia, a blood born illness that stems from infected tick bites. Joy writes that Elsa's death was the first recorded case of babesia even being found in a lion, let alone killing one. The real tragedy was that Elsa was only 5 years old at the time of her death! What's curious to me is Joy's observation, "her {Elsa's} nose was wet and cold, a sure sign she was ill." Initially this stood out to me because I think of how a wet nose on my dog or cat means they're well, not ill. Unless she's talking about when cats get heavy mucus flow down their face. I've seen my own cat get little colds here and there when he was younger, he displayed heavy mucus on his face then, but just being wet and cold is a bad sign? The other thing I wondered about is how further along in the book, Joy explains how they had the help of tranquilizers and sedatives when moving the cubs long distances. If they had that sort of thing available, why wasn't a sedative used on Elsa so she could be moved to a vet who could check her out like they do now? Would it have been enough to save her life?

Elsa's gravesite, Meru National Park, Kenya

In Forever Free, Joy describes the troubles they went through to get this stone engraved

and have a real memorial gravesite set up for Elsa, who came to mean so much for

so many.

Judging from Joy's writings, Jespah seemed like he had the closest

bond with Elsa, out of all her cubs.

"Dewbow On A Spider Web" by Richard Fleet

Living close to wild animals for so many years, I have come to find that their instinctive reaction to fate is often very far superior to our own and that theirs is a wisdom I still have to learn. In this context, I had been recently much impressed by the way in which a spider I watched coped with her difficulties. I cannot feel any affection for these eight-legged creatures but I was fascinated to observe the spider remaking her complicated web each time the rain destroyed it or it was torn by a large insect; whatever the source of the disaster, she went to work at once to repair the damage and she had the courage as well as patience; she could often tackle beetles many times larger than herself, wrapping them in her silky thread until they were tied up like parcels and ready for consumption. Watching her, I hoped that we might be capable of learning from this low form of life how to show an equal determination and persistence in coping...

After the death of Elsa, there was an even greater push to have the cubs put completely back in the wild, with human contact cut off. The Adamsons fought against this, reasoning that the cubs were less than a year old and had yet to fully learn how to hunt for themselves. There was also the added difficulty of the cubs seeming to retract even more from human contact after the death of their mother. Joy and George work out an agreement with the Kenyan government allowing the Adamsons to stay with the cubs until they are fully capable of being on their own, but still requiring the cubs to be moved. Over the course of many months, the cubs traveled all over the African serengeti, but the first trial relocation was at Lake Rudolph.

The transition was especially trying for Joy, because she was greatly worried about the future of the cubs:

If man, with all his capacity to reason often gives tragic proof of his inability to adjust himself to exile, how can one expect wild animals, who are more conservative and more dependent on their territory, to adjust themselves to something completely strange?

Lake Rudolph, now known as Lake Turkana

At Lake Rudolph, there seemed to be evidence that the cubs might be getting pushed off their turf by an old foe of Elsa's, a lioness from a different pride. Joy dubbed this enemy "Fierce Lioness". Joy believed this lioness might have followed the cubs through parts of their travels and was trying to push the cubs out of their area, making the kids resort to finding food in and around local tribal villages and having them risk being killed just to avoid starving to death. Lions (not always Elsa's cubs) would sneak into villages and snatch livestock from the village pens or grab a stray one from a herder's flock. The kill was sometimes just out of boredom, but more often than not because the lions were left with no other choices for food sources.

"Two Lion Cubs At Play" by William Walls (1880)

While Joy and George struggled to get the cubs to a decent level of self-sufficiency where the cubs could hope to have some chance of survival on their own, they were also in a struggle with the Director of National Parks in Africa who originally invited them to try out Lake Rudolph. The director tried the angle of "good works" to try to bring the cubs in and boost tourism to the park area, leading the Adamsons to believe they had an ally. Turns out his help only went so far. With each day, he was more and more persistent with Joy and George to either leave the cubs as is or decide to move them somewhere else. He claimed to understand their concerns but it was more like when someone says "You seem to be listening but do you really hear me?" Or as my parents use to say when I was a kid, "Don't try to understand me so fast!"

"Mufasa & Sarabi - Lion King"

Hedonistic lions... too funny not to quote! This one goes out to the suckers that feel humans are so superior amongst the rest of the animal kingdom... see how familiar this behavior sounds to you!:

Quite close to the camp we passed the dark maned lion and his two girlfriends. We had always supposed that lions liked to pass their honeymoon in privacy and were therefore surprised to see this lion making love to one of the lionesses in the presence of the other. Not more than a mile farther on we saw a magnificent blond maned lion sunning himself on the open plain. He paid no attention to us or to the clicking of our cameras and stretched and yawned as though we weren't there. After that, I had hardly time to change my film before we ran into another pair of lovesick lions. They lay as close together as they could, seemed very tired and ignored us...After breakfast {next day} we went off to see more of the migration. On our way we passed the mating lion and his lioness again. Although they were lying in the open and must have seen us, they allowed us to approach to within twenty-five yards of them, and were so little disturbed by our presence that eventually the lion sired his mate, an act which lasted three minutes and ended by his giving her a gentle bite on her forehead to which she responded with a low growl. {Seriously, does that not sound like when a guy smacks you on the butt after he finishes? Don't act like you haven't been there ladies! If you haven't you might want to encourage your dude to let his freak flag flutter a bit more lol} After a quarter of an hour, he approached her again, but this time she dismissed him with a sweep of her paw. This was repeated three times before she permitted him to sire her again and, as before, he bit her on the forehead. We continued to watch them and after about twenty minutes the lion sired her a third time, releasing her only after giving her a slight bite on the neck; after this both went to sleep. There was no sound to be heard and time seemed to stand still on this vast plain. When we started up the car, the lioness raised her head and blinked at us through half-closed eyes, but the lion never stirred. Here {the African plain}the males being vastly outnumbered by the females, a good many of the lions we saw looked rather thin. We thought this was partly because a lion's honeymoon lasts 4-5 days and during this time the couple do not eat and seldom drink, and here there were not enough lions to satisfy the demand of so many lionesses so the lions often went hungry {Joy explains elsewhere that while lions on their own can hunt, in a pride the lioness typically hunts for the lion and the cubs}.

A note to my husband when he reads this -- honey, I love you but don't get any ideas here -- you don't need to surprise me with a post - coital forehead munch lol.

Okay, back to the cubs!

The risk proved to be too great for one of Elsa's cubs - Jespah, the eldest. He wasn't killed but he did get an arrow in the butt! By the time of Jespah's injury, the Adamsons were not left with an option. They were pretty much just kicked out of the reserve. The only way Joy could find to still keep an eye on the cubs was to buy a tourist pass onto the reserve and camp, but even then she was not allowed to touch or interact with the cubs she helped keep alive! Desperate, Joy (without telling George) goes to see a fortune teller to see if she can get any news about Jespah (who still had the spear head in his rear - the vet that checked out Jespah said it would cause less damage to let the spear head fall out on its own rather than have someone yank it out. The last time Jespah was seen, Joy noted that the wound did not look good and in fact she feared it might go septic and possibly kill him).

I was rather ashamed of myself and didn't tell George what I had done {to which I thought "So you just let him find out down the road in your book??}. The fortune teller gives Joy a date, telling her she is to find "unexpected success". He also instructs her to wear something blue for luck {if it's predicted to happen, why does she need luck?}. Joy goes back to the camp and on the day the fortune teller gave her, she and George go driving out trying to see if they can get any sign of the cubs' location, when they end up getting the truck stuck in mud on the edge of a lake bed. The truck starts to sink into the lake, the interior filling with water. Joy and George jump out and Joy notes In my hurry, I forgot my blue talisman, and when I looked back, I saw my handkerchief {the bit of blue she put on per instructions} floating away and with it, my belief in fortune tellers.

Joy and George try to plan a more extensive trip with a wider search area for the cubs (who leave no definitive clues to their whereabouts after the Adamsons are forced to leave the cubs alone out in the wild). Their friend Billy (the same Billy who unwillingly had his head between Elsa's teeth that one time) comes to help but then it turns out he discovers he has an "allergy", as Joy describes it, to tsetse flies (after he's bitten by one). So travel plans are halted. Are there many people out there who wouldn't have an "allergy" to tsetse flies? I thought those things were suppose to be deadly to humans, or at the very least make you sick as hell, making you think you were going to die. Poor guy that Billy, but how many people can say they were bitten by a lioness and a tstse fly in the same lifetime and survived both! Along the lines of illness, I love how casually Joy tells of the day she wasn't feeling well, discovered she had a temp of 103 and "had no choice but to rest until the malaria passed"- she's so calm about it, she makes it sound like a passing headache! It's freakin' malaria - still something that is incredibly unpleasant even with modern medicine! Like I said, serious badass lol.

Neat shot caught by Joy while they were searching for the cubs,

featured in Forever Free.

The Adamsons head in the direction of Mt. Kilimanjaro, once they had finally heard news that they thought might lead them to the cubs. Unfortunately, it turned out to be another dead end, no definite sightings.

Mt. Kilimanjaro -

From Lake Rudolph, the cubs out on their own in the wild,

drift toward this region

It was a lovely morning, and I watched last nights clouds disperse to disclose Mount Kilimanjaro rising above the early mist. Its cap of newly fallen snow looked so ethereal in the soft morning light that it was difficult to believe it was a glacier-capped volcano. I have often admired Kilimanjaro from a distance, and I have climbed to its summmit, but today more than ever it seemed a manifestation of glory, remote from the troubled world of man; part of the grandeur of an unspoiled creation of which animals were an integral part of.

Joy and George move toward Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania where they meet a game warden who adorably had a porcupine named Ngugu, which just cracked me up because it reminded me of that Dane Cook bit about Mgugu!

Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania

The story of Elsa's cubs is left open ended. They never actually find the cubs but they don't find evidence of them being killed off either. In fact, they occasionally get news of someone spotting a lion they believe may be Jespah, but nothing they are able to confirm. So in the end, the experiment worked I guess. Elsa was born in the wild, raised by humans, and has her children fully immersed back into the wild. Got you singing "Circle of Life" yet? ;-)

Joy Adamson working on a painting

"Aweer Lady", originally titled "Boni"

by Joy Adamson

After the work with the cubs ended, Joy and George drifted apart, almost as if they had actually suffered the loss of their own children (they didn't have any children together, as far as I've read, but that's what I likened the split to). They didn't ever officially divorce, and remained on friendly terms the rest of their lives, but George continued to work with other lions, while Joy went on to study cheetahs.

Joy and George's story is compelling and educational just by their sheer dedication to wildlife preservation and education efforts. They dedicated their lives to to protecting and learning about these wild animals, much like Jane Goodall and, in the 1980s, Dian Fossey. Sadly, like Dian Fossey, George and Joy met untimely ends related to their endeavors. On January 3rd, 1980, Joy's body was discovered by her assistant. At first, due to the gruesome nature, it was assumed to be a lion attack, but upon further investigation, it was revealed to be murder by a labourer formerly employed by Joy. Joy was 69. Per her request, her ashes were divided and scattered between the graves of Elsa the lioness and Pippa the cheetah (adopted by Joy in her later solo years). Just 9 years later, Joy's estranged husband George was shot and killed by Somali bandits when he tried to assist a threatened tourist on the Kora Reserve where he continued his work with lions after parting ways with Joy. He was laid to rest on the reserve next to his favorite lion, Boy.

George with Boy

Joy Adamson with Pippa the cheetah

If you've enjoyed reading about this family of lions, I recommend you check out the movie Two Brothers (if you haven't seen it already) --- BEAUTIFUL movie about two orphaned tiger brothers but I warn you, parts of it will break your heart!! So good though :-)

From Lotos To Cherry Blossom - Early 20th Century Travel Memoir

2012-03-07T00:04:00.001-05:00

Beach Scene Landscape

This is a beautiful morning, the kind of morning when "the only real things in the world are crystal seas, clean-swept decks, soft rugs, warm sunshine, the smell of salt in the air, and fathomless, futile indolence.

Still being in the midst of winter doldrums, I find myself continuing to dive into travel books and inspiring bios - the travel books for my wanderlust, the bios to hopefully give me a kick in the pants in my own life, get me pumped about spring, new beginnings, new opportunities. I'm always curious how successful people get where they are. Many times it's a matter of knowing the right people or happy accidents but I read for the stories of the people that worked from the ground up with the same kind of resources around me.

I recently finished up From Lotos To Cherry Blossom (not a typo on Lotos, actually spelled that way on the cover) by Sarah Graham Morrison. I originally picked the book up from the good ole secondhand shop because I thought it would be about some aspect of Japanese history (I'm a total history junkie and Asian history is some of my favorite). It turns out this is basically the author's travel journey from her trip around the world for 6 months, starting in December 1906 in New York, ending back in her hometown of Chicago on June 7, 1907. I'm guessing she booked the tour with Colliver Tours Company of Boston since there's an antique ad for them in the back of this edition I have (from that era). Couldn't find anything about them so I'm assuming the company is now defunct. She tours a number of countries via cruise and cargo ships with friends she brings with her and others she meets along the way.

** one I missed - During her travels through the Bay of Bengal, Morrison was also aboard the S.S. Tara for a bit. She also travels on the Santa Fe Railroad on her trip back to Chicago**

Chicago born Morrison takes along her girl bestie, only refered to as "Lady Betty" and later on meets a handsome single man she merely refers to as "Kentucky" or "The Kentuckian". She doesn't say outright anywhere in this book, but judging from the undertones around her writings regarding him, either there was a budding romance there or she was at least hoping for one!

S.S. Oceana, where Morrison met her friend she

simply refers to as "Kentucky"

Inside the S.S. Oceana

Morrison describes boarding the ship:

"Just think! A whole week of lazy afternoons, when wrapped up
in my big coat and steamer rug, I had nothing to do but to tastethe salt in the air and go to sleep to the deep-toned engines. Awakening,what weird pictures in the skies! Then the sunset -- banks of clouds with edgings
of orange-gold and washes of sea-green in the background; or a mass of
grays and violets, with one long line of burnished copper."

how cool is this! the turn of the century gym inside the S.S. Oceana

Dakota wreck Morrison sailed past

The element that stands out most in this book is Morrison's gorgeous, painting-like descriptions of places. Knowing nothing about this woman, I couldn't stop reading about this journey because she made it so alive! How did so many people of this era seem to exhibit this talent?? Her impressions of NYC at Christmastime (before boarding her first ship):

New York was bright and sunny; but cold and windy, especially in the "Flatiron District". Waiting on the corner of Broadway for a car, we looked down the alley of high buildings, glanced at the graves of old Trinity while chimes sounded from above, and had a fellow-feeling with the man who said he would rather be a lamp-post in New York lighted once a month than a whole galaxy of electric lights in any other city. The stores were in the freshness of their Christmas gaiety. The brilliantly-colored toy shops were especially alluring; the book stores more seductive than ever; and stations; out in the streets, the vendors with cheap furs; the man hammering white taffy; the crippled with shoestrings; the old woman with lead pencils. At "the rush hour" the advancing army of the morning seemed more eager to retreat. The driveways were a confusion, through which pedestrians tried to make their way, helped by husky, sturdy policeman, hindered by strong winds that twisted their skirts and dusted their eyes. A curiously blended medley filled the air -- clang of trolley bells, staccato crack of whips, an undertone of human voices, once, a motor-car whizzing around the corner, sounded by the clear, sweet tones of a siren whistle. It was the melody of commerce and traffic; of "humanity, with its many colored appeal.

"New York" by George Bellows (1911)

First stop on the tour is France, visiting all the usuals - Palais de Longchamps, the Louvre, Marseilles, etc...

Jean-Marc Nattier, Madame de Pompadour as Diana. Oil on canvas, 1752.

One one of their first stops, the group visits the Gallerie des Beaux Arts in France and comment on seeing

the painting above:

"In the Gallerie des Beaux Arts, Nattier's beautiful portrait of

Madame de la Pompadour as Diana echoed the colors

of the outdoor world."

From France the group moves on to Egypt, where they take their time exploring the exotic bazaars, the ancient city of On (Heliopolis to Greece) and, of course, the pyramids.

Pyramids from across the Nile

On first seeing the pyramids, Morrison describes " Westward, the somnolent gray pyramids rose above distant palms; in the south, the white sails of the Nile glistened luminously; but think of a quiet hour in the checkered shade of the garden of the Pharoah's daughter, under vine-laden trellises, where every faint zephyr left in its train the fragrance of the rose and narcissus. Bulrushes no longer flap and rustle about the cove where once nestled the Hebrew woman's ark. Isaiah's prophecy is fulfilled -- " the reeds by the rivers of Egypt shall wither and be no more." They also visited the tomb of Caliph Omar, "by whose edict the great Alexandrine library was burned because of the all-sufficient Koran".

Ghezireh Palace, Cairo - one place where

Morrison and friends stayed while in Egypt

They also stayed at the Shepheard's Hotel in Cairo

The party moves on to India. Though not mentioned in the title, India is where a large part of her trip takes place. They view the stunning architecture - one stop being one of my dream places to see, the Taj Mahal. They mention staying at the Bombay Hotel which could be the modern day Taj Mahal Hotel in Bombay. Other stops include Victoria Gardens, Victoria Memorial (aka "White Palace" and Victoria Station (both named after Queen Victoria), the Albert Museum (named after Victoria's husband), Diwan-i-am Palace, Red Temple Fort in Agra, La Martiniere (one of the oldest colleges in India), and the Towers of Silence in Mumbai, India.They visit the shop in Agra where Ganeshi Lall, the shopkeep, tells them the coronation gown of Empress Alexandra was made. They even attended a Parsee wedding.

Taj Mahal Hotel in Bombay, India

Taj Mahal

"Taj Mahal, Agra, Uttar Predesh, India" by Doug Pearson

"Victoria Gardens" by Rani Bagh

Towers of Silence, Mumbai, India -

a sacred Parsee place where Parsee take their dead.

Morrison and friends were only allowed to view the Towers site from a distance because of its sacredness. In another location, another funeral ritual is witnessed by the group, leaving Morrison appalled at the sight of the deceased, the wailing cries of the survivors and the smoke surrounding the ghats. Morrison later reflects:

More to our liking were the Botanical Gardens where we delighted in panbaris filled with orchids and ferns; magnolias and Palmyra palms; where we drank our tea under the spreading almond-trees by the river side, as we watched the country boats drift by; where we marveled at the largest tree in the world, the great banyan...

Well, yeaaaa! Who WOULDN'T prefer that to a funeral :-P People are funny sometimes!

Parsee wedding ceremony

The happy bridegroom, as he came through the door with half a dozen friends, was retiring to put on his white suit, garlands of jasmine about his neck, a bouquet of roses in one hand and a cocoanut in the other, seemed to be in a trance. He was seated on one of the central chairs; the sponsors and priests took their places at the side and in front of him and stretched a great sheet before him. Then the bride sat down, facing him on the other side of the sheet, and the ceremony began by them actually being tied together with a cord seven times. The minute this was finished there was a great laugh. The bride had suceeded in throwing rice at the groom before he could throw any at her, which meant that she would be the one to rule the new household. :-)

Above: Coronation gown and train of Empress Alexandra

"India Woman In Night"

"One cannot travel in India and not acquire a love for ornament and jewels,"

says Morrison.

Merina Beach, Madras, India

photo by thanigaiarasu, from virtualtourist.com

"Space, green, white and scarlet and yellow blossom on the trees, the night-breeze from the sea" -- that is Madras, where one drives between avenues of banyan, down colonnades of palms; where people have room to live; where the nights are jeweled and the noons white.

>>> FUN FACT: Madras (aka Chennai) is the hometown of Top Chef judge, Padma Lakshmi -- interesting to learn she was once married to Salman Rushdie

Padma with octopus on Top Chef

crazy amount of natural beauty there!

Padma with writer ex-husband Salman Rushdie...

Red Temple Fort in Agra, India

Morrison visits Samman Burj (Jasmine Tower) -

"an octagonal bastion projecting over the river, on whose slender colonettes

creep delicate, sinuous stems upholding flowers of turquoise and amethyst; on

whose marble walls are trained rows of chiselled lilies and carelessly

drooping tulips, which the cool breezes floating in from the river have so

intertwined and interwoven that there is no disentanglement. This room, the

gem of the palace, was the boudoir of Mumtaz Mahal, the lady of

the Taj; and like her tomb, though encrusted with jewels, is so simply and

perfectly proportioned that its outlines, its tones, its lights, are all in

perfect harmony.

The traveling companions visitied the various temples in Benares, India dedicated to cows, monkeys and other animals but Morrison was clearly not impressed! It was this excerpt among others, that (at least to me) hinted that Morrison might be of the class of women of her era that were priveleged financially but sheltered in worldly matters, tending to come off as bratty, spoiled, overly - whiney creatures. If you're going to take a world tour, you have to figure other cultures are not going to be just like your own neck of the woods! There are also clues in her casual use of derogatory terms, almost as if she's never been taught that saying such things is offensive but rather only natural! She speaks of "loathsome beggars" and "cluttered, gaudy temples" (the beggars were getting food at temples, the temples have systems similar to soup kitchens in the U.S.) I found this behavior particularly surprising once Morrison mentioned that she herself was a graduate of Stanford University - you'd think such an education would leave a person more open minded....

At Benares, everything specially nasty and repulsive is protected by the cloak of sanctity. This Hindu Mecca is an awful place. Nothing I have ever read gave me any idea of its loathsome mess; nothing I ever encountered smelled as foul.

There are a few worse "damn, girl!" moments. This is just one example. There are gentler, less offensive ways to say one's town was not your favorite stop on the tour lol.

The tour moves out of India and over to the beautiful island of Myanmar, another place on my to see list. The main tour is in and around Shwe Dagon, the Golden Pagoda of Rangoon (this town is now known as Yangon). They also check out Amarapura, The Immortal City, Dalhousie Park and Royal Lake in Burma

Morrison gives a good description of the building below, but also displays a need for some worldly enlightenment. There's a hint of close-mindedness here:

Golden Pagoda, Myanmar

The Golden Monastery is the finest structure of its kind in Burma. It is old and wonderful, but does not in the least suggest a monastery, carved as it is from the lowest step to the topmost spire and covered for the most part with a faded gilt. The roof is a mass of eaves upon eaves, symbolic of royal dignity; ornaments laden the gables; myriad gold spires spring from the steeples. It is indeed a golden monastery, and prowling around the dusty yard beneath the dust-laden palms are monks in dirty yellow robes of silk which harmonize with their bronze skins. Their heads, shaved and uncovered, are protected by the great parasols of heavy yellow paper. For the most part their faces are repulsive, to me they seemed a lot of lazy idlers, who neither worked for their food nor bought it, but begged it, and that in no cringing manner, but with an arrogance that was curious to behold.

Though she does show signs of epiphany when she reflect:

"Religion, religion and more religion -- French Catholicism, the ancient Egyptian sun-worship, Mohammedanism in Cairo and Delhi, the fire-worshippers of Bombay, Brahamanism at Benares in Southern India, Buddhism in Burma! What a study! What differences, yet what similarities! What an evolution! We have been investigating creeds at first hand in the great labratory of the world, and found all peoples believing in a higher power, though worshipping it in varying manifestations; but all groping for light and peace, for the light that brings peace; all striving to reach a Heaven, but the passports differ as widely as the travelers.

From Burma, the tour moves to Nepal, visiting the town of Darjeeling (famous for some pretty tasty tea). The highlight of this part is Morrison seeing the Himalayas and especially, one morning, being able to watch the sun rise over Mount Everest. Can you imagine?!

Mt. Everest (the snow capped one in the back)

Sounds like paradise!
(Ceylon background courtesy of JBoss Community)

While in the area, the group visits the Dambulla Temple in Sri Lanka - never heard of this place before reading this book but damn! Impressive!! (Though that door looks a bit like the entrance to a casino or fun house to me... :-S)

Dambulla Temple

While in the neighborhood, they also checked out:

Adam's Peak, Sri Lanka - believed to be the site of Buddha's ascension

(there's an impression in the rock at the peak of the mtn believed to be the footprint of Buddha)

You can read more about this spiritual, sacred place here.

Peradeniyma Botanical Gardens, Sri Lanka

Once filled on these sites, the group heads over to China. Starting in Penang and moving through Singapore, staying at the Raffles Hotel. Morrison and her friends takes in the sights of Hong Kong, which I learned in this book, translates to "fragrant streams". Macao, China, is described as "a quaint bit of ancient Portugal dropped down in China" (understandable, when one learns Macao has a centuries old Portuguese settlement) while their trip to Canton - now known as the city of Guangzhou -- sounded much like their experience in Benares, India. Morrison says the locals of Canton behaved as if it was still 12th century B.C. , working constantly, never having fun, existing in extreme filth and squalor.

Penang lights

Penang at twilight

Raffles Hotel, still in operation today

Photo by ska.travels @ Panaramio.com

Canton, China circa 1880

modern day Canton - looks like times have changed!

Yomei-Mon Gate

"...the beautiful Yomei-mon, a gate so exsquisitely beautiful that the builder purposely carved the pattern upside down on one column lest the flawless perfection of the whole thing might bring misfortune on the House of Tokugawa by exciting the jealousy of Heaven."

the Macao of today looks more like Vegas!

The group's travels start to come to a close, but not before stopping by the beautiful island of Japan, staying at a number of picturesque hotels: the Fujiya Hotel in Miyanoshita, Japan -- a place with many years of serving as a popular summer resort for the wealthy; the Mikado Hotel in Kobe; the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo; the Grand Hotel in Yokohama.

Fujiya Hotel - still operating today

Imperial Hotel, Tokyo

Stops on the Japan itinerary included the town of Odaware, Kyoto-Kinakuji (Golden Pavillion) Gardens, Mt. Fuji, Ushiku Daibutsu Statue, Nagoya Castle, Nagasaki Peace Park, and demonstrations of the cha-no-yu tea ceremony and traditional dances such as the kagura, miyako, and the nagoya (cherry blossom).

That week, full of the "murmurs and scents of the Infinite Sea" was most memorable ; for in it we added to our length of days by crossing the 180th meridian, which caused us to have two Tuesdays in one week.

Golden Pavillion Gardens

Mt. Fuji

Nagoya Castle, Osaka

Osaka, Japan - described in this book as "the Venice, the Glasgow, the Chicago of Japan"

stunning statue in Nagasaki Peace Park

Odawara, Japan
Photo by shinnygogo on flickr.com

Ushiku Daibutsu Statue -
I believe Morrison said this was either the largest or

one of the largest Buddhas in the world.

tea ceremony scene from Karate Kid 2

Before leaving Japan, Morrison writes something that struck me as eerie because it was written well before our involvement with Japan in World War II, even before World War I, but it has an interesting correlation to the events that were to come:

...the land of the Rising Sun, whose symbol is the sacred dragon.. the dragon reveals himself only to vanish. Coiling again and again on his strength, he sheds his crusted skin amid the battle of the elements, and for an instant stands half-revealed by the brilliant shimmer of his scales. He strikes not until his throat is touched. Then woe to him who dallies with the terrible one! Such is Japan, especially modern Japan, shaking off customs hoary with age and absorbing what is best that appeals to her in the life of every other nation. Time and again in her history, she has drawn up her forces to fight China and for an instant has revealed an unexpected brilliancy. She is not hunting for war with the United States, but if we touch her in a vital spot, she will strike will all the force she can acquire.

Remember, this was written by a woman in 1907, merely pondering on her travels and experiences. Weird, huh!

So that's about it for Ms. Morrison, newly-minted world traveler. She makes a brief pit stop, a sort of vacation from her vacation, in Hawaii, visiting schools, the various islands, the former Royal Palace (briefly touching upon the displacement of the queen). She travels to California to visit the earthquake ravaged streets of San Francisco and Palo Alto, before boarding a train on the Santa Fe Railroad headed back home to Chicago. By the end of the journal she seemed a bit wiser, more educated, a wee less naieve about the world in general but still optimistic about the general good of people. A nice place to leave it I thought, since Morrison, from the tone of her writing, appeared to be probably in her early 20s, not yet really experiencing all that much that might cause her to be jaded towards the world.

In closing, this more lengthy than usual post (there were just too many good quotes not to share though!) I leave you with the fortune Morrison received from a Hindu fortune - teller, something that can give us all something to hope for for ourselves:

By a wall where trailing vines mingle with falling rose leaves, a solemn-faced Hindu sat at our feet and from the lines on our hands foretold what of good, what of ill, lay hidden in the years to come. Dreamlike his melodious cadences fell -- "You live many years -- very old, lady, and travel in many countries, all countries, lady. You understand? Very good hand, lady. You see -- you will know many strange things while you live. You so very rich some day; People you know now will not believe." Surely fairy stories come true sometimes.

Reading that excerpt, I had a curiosity to know what happened to Sarah Graham Morrison, how closely did her life match the fortune? Sadly, I wasn't able to find much, but I did find a blurb about her here, which includes pics of her trip that are featured in the book. She did go on to write a few other books about Egypt and the Taj Mahal -- wonder if in those she hints at any further wooing between her and "Kentucky" :-) Hard not to be a sucker for a happy ending!

Sharing the Warm Fuzzies!

2012-02-10T16:41:00.000-05:00

In honor of the upcoming Valentine's Day, there's a couple of touching passages from Manon Lescaut that I wanted to pull out and present separately. They reminded me so much of talks my husband and I have had, I thought it might remind you of someone you love, maybe give you strength, give you renewed love, maybe just something to think about.

Come, my beloved Queen, said I, come, submit to all the rigours of our fate. Some day, it will perhaps please Heaven to see us happier....She put herself in my arms.. once alone with me, she murmured a thousand endearments, reproaching herself for being the cause of my misfortune. I assured her that I should never complain of my lot so long as she would continue loving me. It is not I who is to be pitied, said I... But it is for you, dear heart, that my heart is stirred. What a fate for a creature so charming! Heaven! how canst thou treat so harshly the loveliest of thy works? Why were we not born, you and I, with qualities that matched with our misery? We have been given intelligence, taste, sensibility; alas, a sorry use we make of them, whilst so many grovelling souls worthy of our fate, enjoy all the favours of fortune! Such thoughts as these pierced my heart with grief. But it was as nothing in comparison with the agony of thinking of the future: fear for Manon shrivelled my soul. She had already been in the Hopital (hospital), and even had she left it with full consent, I knew that relapses of this sort were visited with dire penalties. I would fain have told her of my dread; I feared it might be too much for her. I trembled for her, without daring to warn her of the danger, and I clasped her, sighing, in my arms, to assure her at least of my love; it was almost the only feeling I dared utter. Manon, said I, tell me frankly, will you always love me? She made answer that she was very unhappy that I could have any doubt of it. Then, said I, I doubt no longer, and I can outface every enemy we have with that assurance.

Shabby Chic Sentimental Plaque, available at

newageliving.co.uk

Manon looked aghast at the sight of so forlorn a dwelling, but her distress was for me, far more than for herself. She sat down as soon as we were alone, and began to weep bitterly. I tried at first to comfort her; but when I gathered from her that it was I alone she pitied, and that in our common misfortune she only cared for what I must suffer, I affected courage and even gaiety enough to inspire it in her. What have I to complain of ? said I. I possess everything I desire. You love me, do you not? What other happiness have I ever aimed at? Leave the care of our fortunes to Heaven. They do not seem to me so desperate...And as for the poverty of our hut and the rudeness of our furniture, you may have noticed that there seem few people here better housed or better furnished than ourselves; and then you are a marvellous Alchemist, I added, kissing her, you transform everything to gold. You will be the richest person in the world...

Then, she made answer: for if there never was such a love as yours, even so no one could be loved so tenderly as I love you. I am my own judge, she went on. I feel too well that I have never deserved the amazing tenderness you have for me. I have done you injuries that you could not have forgiven me unless out of the utmost goodness. I have been fickle and light, and even loving you madly as I always have, I was wholly graceless. But you could not believe how I have changed. The tears which you have so often seen me shed since we left France have never once been for my own misfortunes. I ceased to feel them as soon as you began to share them. I have only wept out of tenderness and compassion for you. I cannot be comforted for having hurt you for a single moment in my life. I never ceased blaming myself for my inconstancy , and my heart melts to see what love has made you do for such a wretch who was not worthy of it, and who could not atone even with her blood, she added, in a flood of tears, for half the sorrows she has cost you. Her tears, her words, and the tone in which they were uttered affected me so violently it seemed to me my heart was breaking in twain. Take care, said I, take care beloved; I have not strength enough to bear such tokens of your love: I am not use to this excess of joy. O God! I cried, I ask no more: I am assured of Manon's heart; and 'tis all I have ever wished to give me happiness: I can never be unhappy now: felicity secure and firm at last.

Ring a bell with anyone? :-)

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone --- ladies, please remember to treat your gents special too... not only about us... true love goes both ways and everyone likes to feel they're special to someone else ;-)

Manon Lescaut by the Abbe Prevost Dexiles

2012-02-10T13:12:00.000-05:00

"Woman With Pearl Hairdress" by Jean Francois de Neufforge

I think the Abbe Prevost best summed up his work here in the "Note By The Author" (Preface to Manon Lescaut)

If the public has found something agreeable and interesting in the history of my life, I dare promise that it will not be ill satisfied with this addition. It will see in the conduct of M. des Grieux a terrible example of the strength of the passions. I have to paint a blind young man who turns his back on happiness to plunge of his own free will into the worst misfortunes: who with all the qualities that go to form the brightest merit, chooses an obscure and vagabond life in preference to all the advantages of fortune and of nature: who forsees his misfortunes without wishing to avoid them; who feels them and is overwhelmed by them without availing himself of the remedies which are continually offered him and which might at any moment put an end to them; in short, an ambiguous character, a mixture of virtues and vices, a perpetual contrast of good sentiments and bad actions. Such is the substance of the picture which I am about to present to the eyes of my readers.

Abbe Prevost

Though Prevost is speaking mostly of Grieux, Manon's main love throughout the novel, "an ambiguous character, a mixture of virtues and vices" could well describe Manon, the sort of anti-heroine of the story. The Story of Manon Lescaut & the Chevalier Des Grieux is perhaps not what one would call a traditional romance (ie. perfectly gorgeous man meeting girl-next-door stunner and falling in love for forever) but it is more of a realistic romance. It's messy, ugly at times. Manon is a girl you can love and hate equally for her choices. You want her to grow up, yet you feel sorry for her losing some of her innocence too early. The poor girl makes enormously bad choices in men and finances, but in the end, her end doesn't seem all that just. Somehow, in some way, she makes her self likeable despite her behavior.

artwork from an early edition of Manon Lescaut

Manon Lescaut is the story of a young French girl, Manon, who is about to be confined to a nunnery for the rest of her days, a fate she herself does not want but feels no escape from, thanks to her father. The same day that Manon is to take her vows, the narrator of the story, Chevalier des Grieux, sees her in the street just outside of the convent walls and is immediately smitten with Manon's youthful, innocent kind of beauty. Grieux ditches his original plans of touring the area with his best friend, Tiberge, and goes after the girl, much to Tiberge's annoyance. Grieux takes his mode of transportation, sweeps Manon away from her father and the convent, carrying them away as far as they can go on their limited income.

French carriage
photo by Jorge Barrios

As you might have guessed, this plan of Grieux's wasn't thought out all that much lol. Those crazy kids ran out of money pretty quick and Manon was returned to her family... but then he steals her away again!! And again they run out of money. So starts the pattern of Manon running with the impulses of her heart and worrying about the rest later (a tough mode to live by but one I've certainly experienced myself!).

"Woman With A White Hat" by Jean Baptiste Greuze

The bulk of the story is Grieux's retelling of all the financial mishaps he and Manon got into in the early days of their acquaintance and romance. They travel all around France, and even parts of England, trying out different "get rich quick" schemes Manon thinks up, as well as honest, manual labor when they get really desperate. Manon's trouble stems from the fact that she loves living the good life but hates that she should ever be forced to do any sort of serious, "blue-collar" type work to get the things she wants. She wants men to fawn over her beauty and just hand her jewels and dresses in luxurious fabrics. LOL, well don't we all! No peasant wants to be a peasant but Manon refuses to believe anything other than that she must be entitled to the finest in life, though she holds no titles, no education, nothing that would recommend her to the upper classes outside of her pretty face and fun-loving disposition. Wish I could have been there to tell her that's rarely enough! It might get you in the door, so to speak, but you're going to have to have something for those uppity-ups to want to keep you around... which really only leaves one easy (and I do mean "easy") way in in that time period.... that of a mistress to men of power.

Actors from Puccini's opera adaptation of Manon Lescaut

Grieux floats in and out of her life but always comes back. Manon, I think, truly loved Grieux -- though that's part of the fun of the story, the reader getting to debate whether her actions and feelings were real or if she was just playing a part and using Grieux as a toy. Grieux didn't have endless finances so Manon secretly took up with wealthier men on the side. For a good while she kept herself and Grieux in the lap of luxury without ever really explaining to him how she was doing that. But,as these things tend to, her secret leaked out one day and after he gets over his shock a bit, Manon somehow convinces Grieux to help her set up these trysts, reasoning that them working together can only bring them more money!

"In The Boudoir" by Ettore Simonetti

There is a distinct pattern throughout the story where these plots go really well at first and then fail utterly miserably. When they fail, what does Grieux do each time?? He runs to his buddy Tiberge that he left stranded in town the first time! Failed scheme after failed scheme, Grieux goes to Tiberge each time Manon gets him in trouble again or saps him of any savings he might have had. Grieux has to beg Tiberge for money or sometimes shelter... mostly money. What I found surprising was that no matter how many times this happened, no matter how many times Tiberge said "Seriously, this is the last time -- get yourself together!" , he'd always pony up more money the next time Grieux asked! That's the sort of situation where I can't decide if that makes for the most loyal, unconditionally loving friend or if you have someone that just can't learn to stop sticking their hand in the fire! Then again, Grieux says of this:

That human resolutions are liable to change has never been a matter of surprise to me: one passion gives them birth, another can destroy them.

And then Tiberge's own response:

...the first thing I {Grieux} entreated of him {Tiberge} was to let me know if I might still look upon him as my friend, after having so justly deserved to lose his esteem and his affection. He answered me in the tenderest tones that nothing could make him renounce his friendship; that my very misfortunes, and -- if I would allow him to say so -- my faults and my disorders did but redouble his tenderness towards me; but that it was a tenderness mingled with the keenest pain such as one feels when one sees the beloved on the verge of ruin without being able to give him aid.

I don't know, that's a tough one for me. Granted, there's few things more irritating than a fair-weather friend, but shouldn't there be some cut-off? Some point where you say, "I love you but I can't let you take me down with you." ?? As a friend, if you don't set a boundary, are you really helping them or are you just enabling their bad choices? Is it heartless of me to think such a person as Grieux could use a good dose of tough love?? I've received a few doses from friends over the years and yeah, it stings at first, but it does set the senses back in order in a hurry!

"The Korin Brothers" by Mikhail Nesterov

Manon's biggest blunder in scheming involved a man referred to as "M. de G.M.", and later his son, G.M. Junior. G.M. Senior, an older, aristocratic man, is introduced to Manon and arranges to pay her a certain hefty sum of money for what is only described as "favors". By the way, there is nothing blatantly sexual (least not that I noticed) in this novel, it is only hinted at that Manon sells herself for money. Part of Manon's plan is that Grieux is to introduce himself as her cousin, or it might be brother, a relative at any rate, and a younger one at that. It's a bit of a hard sell but G.M buys into it. Manon somehow manages to keep him at bay as far as having to actually sleep with him and waits for a night when he is called away for work when she and Grieux try to gather up money and jewels, but not before attempting a quickie in G.M. bedroom! That little pause ends up being the undoing of them. G.M. comes home, understandably flips out when he figures out what's going on and swiftly has Manon locked up, but for some odd reason she's placed in the mental ward at the Common Hospital (that's what it's called in the book - I'm guessing it's another term for a general hospital). Grieux is sent to prison.

Actors from Puccini's opera adaptation of Manon Lescaut

Grieux manages to escape from prison. Borrowing a gun from Manon's brother, and putting together some plans of his own, Grieux eventually manages to break Manon out of the hospital and does his best to "take her away from it all". They try to live a modest life with honest work and a small cottage but of course Manon gets bored with this and starts up her old tricks again soon enough. Shame is, the next man she sets her sights on to make her rich is none other than G.M. Junior. Junior, like his father, falls into infatuation with Manon, until he too finds out he's been duped. Manon and Grieux are arrested again but work their connections magic and find a way to board a ship to America to escape persecution in France. A few rough months at sea later, they find themselves in what would become New Orleans, Louisiana. Grieux comments that " we had not been able to see the town from the sea -- it is hidden from the sea by a small hill".

Bummer for them, America doesn't hold all the hopes and answers they prayed for. I won't give away the big ending (and it's pretty dramatic) but I will give you a small teaser in saying it has something in common with this:

Grieux has an interesting way of making a girl feel special, telling Manon " 'tis a fate enviable enough for me to be unhappy with you." Aawwww :-P

"On The Beach" by Edouard Manet

It breaks Grieux's heart to see Manon hurting (ahhh crazy, bewildering love lol) and his description of her suffering makes for a heartbreaking image. Looking back on her capture, he recalls:

Must I tell you what was the sorrowful subject of my talks with Manon during that journey, or the first impression of the sight of her when I got leave from the Guards to draw near her waggon! Ah, words can never but half express the feelings of the heart; but imagine for yourself my poor mistress chained by the waist, seated on some handfuls of straw, her head leant despairingly against the side of the waggon, her face white and wet with streaming tears that forced their way beneath the eyelids that she kept perpentually closed. She had not even had the curiousity to open them when she heard the commotion among the Guards at the moment of our threatened attack. Her linen was soiled and disordered; her delicate hands bare to the harshness of the air; all that enchanting frame, the face that could bring back the universe to idolatry, was sunk in unutterable abandonment and despair.

There's not a TON of action in this story, but it does serve as a sort of love lesson, the dangers of lusting without loving, loving too hard, loving for the wrong reasons, even loving unconditionally. I think it will mean different things for different people. Manon Lescaut is an antique read but an easy read definitely looking into. As I said earlier, it's not your traditional love story but there are plenty of passages to stun you, make you nod your head in recognition, even moments where all you can say is "aaawww!" :-)

Happy Leap Year Love Month Everyone!!

"Woman With A Pearl Necklace"

Jean Francois de Neufforge

**Barry, quit snickering ;-)**

Happy Birthday Charles Dickens!

2012-02-07T15:26:00.001-05:00

Today, February 7th, marks what would have been Charles Dickens' 200th birthday.

http://www.dickens2012.org/

"Dickens' Dream" by Robert William Buss

(you may have seen this painting mentioned in
the 2010 film HEREAFTER)

What's your favorite Dickens' novel? I admit, I haven't read them all, but to date my favorites have been Nicholas Nickelby, Bleak House (two stories I wish to revisit soon) and of course the classic A Christmas Carol. I played Mrs. Cratchit in my 4th grade class holiday play so I have a special attachment to that story :-D. Though I gotta say, in my opinion, the film adaptations have been done to death!

Dickens' work can be dense to get through at times, I struggled through parts of Hard Times but still enjoyed it. I appreciate Dickens today because he was one of the first authors I read that introduced me to the Victorian literature I love :-)

A Eulogy of Sorts..

2011-12-08T01:29:00.007-05:00

For those wondering where I've been, I apologize for the absence but I needed some time.

On November 26th of this year, a little after midnight, my father passed over to the other side. In a way it had been a while in the making, as my father led a life of hard drinking, smoking and numerous other habits that tend to lead to an early grave. Still, I hadn't really planned on being one parent down before the age of 30, certainly not mere weeks after my wedding.

I had a complex, confusing relationship with my father. He was an incredibly difficult man to live with, tortured by mental illness and internal demons he seemed unable to conquer. He was even more difficult to communicate with. His demons made him answer everything with severe bouts of anger, violence, paranoia, and insanely erratic behavior. I spent my teen years and my early 20s hating him but let go of much of that hate ages ago. That's not to say my anger left entirely, only cooled to a level that didn't entirely hinder the chance of my life feeling successful. I haven't had the hate in years, but I'm not entirely sure I loved the man he became in later years.

I explained to my husband (who never had a chance to meet his father in law) that I feel as if I am grieving for different people. Or maybe just one man - the man trapped deep inside the shell that presented itself as my father. On one hand, I feel like I am living my own version of the film Death At A Funeral, with someone handing me pictures of this man, saying "this is who he really was", I'm reeling from the shock of some of the information I've been given.

On the other hand, I look back on the life of my dad and feel like he had some sort of demon possession. That seems to be the easiest way to explain the dichotomy in his personality - the dad that only rarely made an appearance, the one that was funny, who would actually listen to you , tell you a cool story, the one that even gave you props from time to time for doing something impressively - that guy vs the guy that seemed to take up the majority of his life : the one that was judgemental, hypocritical, mean, abusive, just downright awful and at times pure evil - no other word for it. I have memories of looking into that man's eyes and seeing straight into hell. In a way it may be responsible for very few things having the ability to scare me now. So why am I grieving?

That's the question I've been asking myself every day. For decades, this man doled out so much pain and abuse on nearly anyone he met. Living my childhood in a constant state of survival and terror at home meant the loss (because there was no time or teacher to learn from) of decent social skills and the ability to talk to anyone -- particularly guys (I just had to work that out through trial and error.. and believe me, there was a whole helluva lot of error on my part!). It would leave me feeling as if I were cast out to fend for myself in the world with very few skills to go off of. It meant I would spent my first few years of my adult life bitter and suspicious of any kindness shown me. The theme of my life for the most part has been "just survive, it has to get better ... it HAS to". (Thankfully, that voice of faith proved to be true!).

It's developed in me a very self - sufficient nature, a belief that I can figure anything out given time, but also an incredibly lonely existence. Even now, being married to the most loving man a woman could ask for, I have days where I feel so within myself because I fear sharing all the memories.

For years I thought the news of this day would give me some sort of MLK "Free At Last" moment. So what do I grieve for?? There is something...

I grieve for the wasted life. The man that could have been, the man that almost was... the great father, the husband who honored his wife. I grieve the man who once took us on camping trips, the man who would read us The Night Before Christmas by candlelight every Christmas Eve when we were little, the Navy Corpsmen I called Dr. Daddy when I was barely out of my toddler years. I grieve the man that gave me a love of old Hollywood movies, Motown songs and especially Sam Cooke - the artist he taught me to dance to when I was seven (and yes, I stood on his feet lol). Cooke is STILL my all time favorite artist and has never failed to pick my spirits up. I'm sure now I'll have his songs on repeat for quite awhile!

I grieve the man who, after I asked him why I looked so different from so many of my friends and why did I have this big ol' nose (which was much more prominent when I was younger than now but still larger than what one normally sees on a woman) when most of my friends had petite or button noses, taught me to never be ashamed of my mixed race or apologetic of my dark red hair, brown-black eyes and slightly tinted skin, to be proud of my Native American & dark Irish (or "Black Irish as they are called in US - a misnomer in Ireland) roots, the man who told me to tell anyone who had a problem with that to f-off. In the years since that talk, I've had some men deem me "exotic" looking and verbalize their appreciation for my unusual features. Thankfully, my husband (of Irish-German ancestry aka very white lol) loves his "lil' shot of mocha" :-D

Lots of mixed emotions here, which I'm sure (or at least I sincerely hope) will be sorted out over time. Maybe at least I will get to where I can say "Still don't know what to think, but I'm okay with it now".

This book blog will continue, because it provides an outlet for me, a small corner of bibliotherapy. My books have always been my safe haven, my comfort zone, my therapist, my moral compass even. They blocked out the sounds of my parents fighting, they gave me faith that there is beauty in the world if you take the time to quiet yourself enough to see it, books told me there WAS a true knight out there for me, maybe not one that wore armor (because how unwieldy would that be in today's world!), maybe not one that spoke Middle English or even one that would know how to joust or fence. BUT.. the books told me there would be a man with the HEART of a knight - he would be honorable and kind, he would never raise his voice to me, never speak ugly of me, he would fight any foe that dared to endanger me, he would have that much spoken of "rapier wit" and devilish smirk. He may not sing ballads or write odes but he would have a wildly romantic streak and a equally passionate drive to bed me ;-)

The Compleat Angler by Arthur Hughes

And whaddaya know - I found this mythical man with the heart of a knight and married him just as soon as he let me! He even turned out to be a firefighter - which, wouldn't you say, is a reasonable modern facsimile to the knights of storybooks?

So that's been the reason for the absence. Slowly but surely life continues. Thank you for your readership and please continue to stop by and leave your thoughts on anything you see here! :-)

Thanks for your patience during this time....

Italy On My Mind

2011-11-25T20:44:00.000-05:00

Hey Readers!

Hope your Thanksgiving day was a memorable one! We kept it chill here ourselves, which was nice. Having just had our wedding last month, we didn't really have the funds to travel out to in-laws so we stuck to the homefront and counted our blessings here :-)

The air here is starting to turn icy, so in response I turn to my "armchair vacation" kind of books - I suppose any book could qualify as such really but I focus on travel writing or books in sunny locales specifically. It took me a bit longer than anticipated, but I worked through Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes. Wasn't quite as poetic as I was hoping. Mayes is a talented travel writer, absolutely, but for some reason I wasn't expecting quite such minute detail on construction projects on her Italian villa, Bramasole (which she explains translates to "to yearn for the sun"). I did realize when I started the book that it was about the renovation of the house for the most part but I thought there'd be a little more about the actual town the house was in and the people there. She does talk about them some but it's mostly her business interactions with them.

This book had an amazing run of 2 1/2 YEARS on the
New York Times Bestsellers List!
Mayes is mainly known as a travel writer
but has also written a novel entitled Swan

Parts of the book just came off a bit dry, not to mention the fact that she sometimes fixated on odd things and then went on for pages about some tangent thought (ie. towards the end of the book she has quite a long, not always clear rant regarding religions of the world that feels like it came out of left field with everything else going on). Well within her right, as it is a memoir and who's to tell you what you can't say in your own memoir, right? Some of the minutiae just wasn't my cup o' tea, that's all. Still, I do like her style when she does describe areas she visits in between construction jobs.

Bramasole - Mayes' villa in Cortona, Italy -
Mayes tells of the renovators using the phrase "Petra, Siempre Petra"
(Stone, Always Stone!) while digging up rock around the foundation and garden areas -
I can certainly relate to that problem in my garden!

The nook for religious offerings described in Under The Tuscan Sun

Frances Mayes

Mayes said -- and I can completely understand
as it took me time to learn myself - "I'm beginning
to trust that the gods are not going to snatch my firstborn
if I happen to enjoy my life."

For those of you who might remember the film adaptation of this book starring Diane Lane (one of my favorite actresses) - I'll tell you right now that while Lane "plays" Mayes in the movie, the movie bears almost no resemblance at all to the real life story of Mayes. That being said, the film is still a beautiful movie on its own merits! Just don't expect an exact translation, 'cause it ain't even close - about the only thing they stuck to was some names and an Italian locale.

Cortona, Italy

Diane Lane & Raoul Bova in Under The Tuscan Sun -
In reality, Mayes did not have a quick fling with a hot Italian
but was already very much with her husband Ed.

Lane's on-screen adaptation of Frances Mayes

There were a number of cultural things Mayes mentions that I found interesting - she discusses the lives of saints quite a bit (I too have a fascination with them), as well as the local festivals such as Ferragosto and the various Sagra festivals. She mentions the ever-present Fiats (becoming oh so popular here in the States now) and the Alfa Romeos zipping along the countryside, the sight of Capuchin monks in brown robes and white caps (the inspiration for the cappuccino drink) and visiting the Basilica Santa Margherita - which, when I looked it up online, I discovered is STUNNING inside!

Fiat

Alfa Romeo

The name "cappuccino" comes from the sight of Capuchin monks
in brown robes and white caps.

Interior view of Basilica Santa Margherita

Mayes and her husband Ed spend quite a bit of time traveling to different towns around Italy, finding wines to stock in their wine cellar at Bramasole. I, myself, am not a huge wine afficianado, so my mind glazed over those descriptions but the way she made the buildings, ruins, even the dishes in restaurants seem so tactile was really impressive. Just on this quality alone, I am sure I will pick up her other Tuscany themed books one day. I did also read her memoir A Year In The World, in which she spends a year traveling to all her dream destinations. I enjoyed Tuscan Sun overall, but I got infinitely more out of Year In The World but as far as discussing that book here, I want to break that one up into sections by the countries she visits, as there's a good bit of cool stuff there to talk about!

INO Not Really An Option For Me

2011-11-18T15:43:00.003-05:00

I've had Secrets Of A Former Fat Girl by Lisa Delaney (a memoir / self help type book where she talks about how she went from plus size to a size 2... and you can too! ;-) ) on my nightstand for awhile and finally got around to finishing it. Originally I picked up this book to maybe get some pointers on how to fit better in my wedding dress but my motivation to finish it fell by the wayside with the stress of wedding planning (much like my commitment to actually lose the weight lol). When I did finally delve in past the first few chapters, I realized it wouldn't have been much help to finish this book anyway.

Much of the book is Delaney drilling her INO (It's Not an Option) Philosophy into the reader. That was my first problem. I believe in moderation, not denial. Denial is partly what leads the winners / contestants of "Biggest Loser" to gain back all or at least a good part of all the weight they lost --- because unless you're looking at a food allergy (in which case, you wouldn't be eating it so that's not what made you fat anyway) it just doesn't seem realistic to me to say "I'm just never going to eat that ever again."

author Lisa Delaney before and after INO

Lisa Delaney

Delaney is very proud of the fact that she whittled herself down to a size 2, and she should be - she worked hard and she looks great - for her. I personally think I would look ridiculous as a size 2, not to mention I love having some curve to me anyway (as does my husband!). I would be devastated if I lost my boobs! The one happy point of gaining weight in life is hey, boobs got bigger, sweet! Once I star to see myself as looking a little too much like "People of Walmart" then I tone back on the happy - size portions.

Now Delaney doesn't say you HAVE to be a size 2 to look amazing, she means for you to take what she's learned and customize it to your life. And she DOES offer some good pointers! She offers some web sites to refer to -- places to find support and tips on how to get started with your transformation. I think my favorite of the ones mentioned in the book is the National Weight Loss Control Registry, a forum for those who have lost 30 pounds or more and have kept it over for over a year. At the Registry, these people share their stories, tips and tricks and support for those working their way to that poing. Pretty motivational stuff! You can also go on webmd.com, where they have forums set up in groups divided by how many pounds you want to lose (ie. 10-15 lb group, 25-50 lb group, etc). Delaney also mentions the difference between low density and high density foods, which I found particularly helpful.

It was the stuff in between these helpful pointers that made me scratch my head - first it started with what seemed like Delaney trying too hard to write that "quirky and funny" type self-help book. Then there were (what seemed like to me anyway) the somewhat bizarre anecdotes she shares in an attempt, I'm guessing, to make herself relatable:

~ talking about how in 1978 she went into Taco Bell and ordered not one but TWO items off the menu, to which I thought "yeah... so? I've walked out with a BAG of menu items from there before after a night of binge drinking" (this was back in the day ... I'm a respectable married lady now lol ;-) )

~ she exercises to R & B? Like Teddy Pendergrass / Marvin Gaye kind of R & B? Alicia Keys? I guess whatever works... just doesn't seem like it would keep you amped enough

~ she keeps herself from gorging on chips in Mexican restaurants by only eating the ones that are folded over .. that part I didn't have a problem with, it was the other part - she says she has no problem fingering all the chips to FIND the folded chips and if that's a problem with whoever she's eating with, they don't have to eat with her again... C'mon! SERIOUSLY?! Nobody wants to eat with that person at the table who flips through all the bread pieces before picking one or licking serving spoons and putting them back into communal dishes (I've been to dinner parties where this is done btw) - you can't honestly think the problem is the other person - it's a matter of hygiene!

~ Speaking of hygiene, in a way, she also mentions that if you have extra birthday / holiday party goodies, extra Halloween candy, that sort of thing then you should not just give it to someone at work (which is what I typically do) or just put it in the trash... oh no! Delaney says you run the risk of eating the stuff at work or, worse yet, you may dig the food out of the trash and eat it! Can't say I've ever been THAT desperate for a final piece of cake... THAT, readers, is why I don't like to deny myself and say I never ever again eat a food I'm particularly fond of. I'd rather just carry a few vanity pounds rather than have that moment where I look at myself saying "What THE HELL are you doing??"

Some of the most useful tools to get you to Former Fat Girl status that Delaney mentions :

* Pick a regime you can see yourself sticking with

* Find workout clothes that you feel good and confident in

* Be selective about who you tell your diet plans to (at least until there is noticeable progress). Friends and family who are use to seeing you a certain size can unintentionally sabotage your goals with comments, resistance to support you, etc

* Find a trainer you click with, one that will keep you motivated and exercising, can give you technique advice, diet/nutritional information, and overall help you get the most out of your workouts

* Find someone to talk to who has been where you are and is currently at the level you want to be at. Have them share their stories, tips, support to keep you motivated

* Keep a Food Journal where you track weight loss / gain (so you can see progress or what made you fall back from your goal), what you are eating on a typical day, your feelings during your weight loss process - it will inspire you to stick with it

And my favorite:

* Keep one of your "skinny outfits" out where you can see it - either something you wore in the past that you want to wear again OR something you bought that you look forward to fitting into.If you don't have a particular outfit, you can cut out a picture out of a magazine of what you would ideally like to look like (just make sure it's reasonable to your body size / height - If you're 5'9 or something you probably don't want to go for some 95 lb weight goal obviously). Delaney says seeing the physical representation of a goal is more motivational and effective than just having a general number in your head.

She also mentions using a program such as Weight Watchers as a sort of method of accountability. Pay someone to MAKE you go to meetings where you either work to make progress or suffer the embarrassment of having to say "I fell behind a little this week". For me, this method doesn't work simply because I don't do well with having to answer to someone else -- but it is a good idea in general if you really need the help. I'm dealing with a few vanity pounds myself but not what I would call obese by any means so I'm not going to beat myself up about my weight at this point (at least not outside of my own internal Debbie Downer that whispers in my inner ear some days lol)

Most of the book seems to be geared more toward people who are looking to lose a significant amount of weight and who have little to no self-will when it comes to food. Maybe like having a AA sponsor I guess (it is addiction - just in a different form), this book may help if you're to the point where you need someone to stay on you and make you accountable for your actions.

The biggest thing that bothered me was a portion where Delaney suggests if you're not a cook then to look at low-cal tv dinners because many are "low cal AND tasty now". As a person that's battled hypertension my entire adult life - even when I was a size 6 - I can tell you this is a VERY bad idea... even the low cal options are often loaded to the max with sodium! Delaney mentions checking the fat content on food because of the risk of heart disease in women, but nowhere does she mention the importance of monitoring your sodium intake. If we're gonna talk about heart disease -- even if you're not hypertensive, you still want to monitor your levels so you don't stroll into pre-hypertensive and THEN hypertensive states. It's a bitch of an illness that leaves you tired, drained, in vayring degrees of pain every day, feeling like you have weights on your chest all the time, so PLEASE PLEASE monitor your sodium folks!!

While Delaney's method isn't a perfect fit for me, she did make some good points as well as offered some handy tips and resources that I was either unfamiliar with or had only barely heard of. One little factoid in particular struck a chord with me with my 30th birthday coming up:

"The fact is, every woman's body loses muscle beginning in the early to mid-thirties. That contributes to a drop in metabolism of as much as 5 percent per decade after age thirty, which means that by age 35, you're burning about 75 fewer calories per day than you did when you were 25. That means you stand to gain an extra 8 lbs a year if you don't do anything to prevent it."

Now I'm not a huge fan of Kate Moss, but she did have a point when she famously said, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I do love good food, but I also love those days my waist feels tiny and my ass looks great. I believe my Nirvana is somewhere between the two.

Take it away, Eddie :)

Life Wisdom Inspired By Man's Best Friend

2011-11-09T00:51:00.000-05:00

Hey Readers,

Last night I finished up Before Your Dog Can Eat Your Homework, First You Have To Do It, a short but impactful book by the actor / comedian and dog enthusiast, John O'Hurley. This book was an interesting mix of pet stories, memoir, self-help, philosophy, humor and letters-from-a-father-to his-son writings all in one. O'Hurley uses the premise of his elderly Maltese dog, Scoshi, writing notes to O'Hurley's then newborn son, William, and leaving them under William's giant blue stuffed animal. O'Hurley "finds" these notes (in which Scoshi discusses his observations on human behavior, offering life advice - from his perspective - that he thinks baby O'Hurley might find useful some day) and expands on Scoshi's thoughts with his own life experiences and lessons learned.

O'Hurley also mentions his Black Lab - Daschund mix, Betty here and there (and after first reading this description, my initial reaction was HOW is that even possible??? Only if the father is the daschund side, I'm guessing!)

O'Hurley with wife Lisa, son William (shortly after his birth in 2006)
and dogs Scoshi (white) and Betty (black)

There were so many good bits of wisdom and humor in this book, so for this post I was inspired to make some jpeg art around my favorite quotes. I definitely recommend this to any animal lovers out there (or anyone needing some good life advice!). I found O'Hurley's words pretty inspiring myself. Enjoy:

Text on above pic:

I witness a sad and gradual homogenization of America. Great cities that once had specific identities are almost indistinguishable, made identical by layers of malls, restaurant chains, and civic centers. Small towns, too, with Main Streets, barbers and toy stores, surrender to the sterile inevitability of Wal-Mart. We are losing our precious sense of place. We are moving in to pre-packaged communities, where every home looks the same. If you can’t figure out how to decorate your living room, you can go next door and see how they did it. The humor in that observation makes me sad. The irony of this shift is that it is not, at its heart, ill-intended. I think people want ease of living and ease of thinking. It is indeed the ease of economics to move all the stores from Main Street inside the controlled environment of a mall, or to ease them out altogether with a more economical super-department store. It is the ease of economics that builds all the homes at once from the same template and calls it, ironically, a development. It makes more homes available to many. It is even the ease of economics to eat pre-fabricated food at restaurant chains. But ease comes at a cost, in my personal view, both individually and collectively as a culture. We can shop at the same stores and eat at the same restaurants. We can wear the same logos on our shirts and jeans. Ironically, the person whose name is logo-ed there doesn’t know who we are or perhaps even care, and yet we wear the name proudly as a badge…. As we submit to the synthetic, to the artificial, and to the prepackaged experience, I fear we are surrendering the chance to live authentically. And this is where I must, as a father, raise the flag of worry.

I am reminded of an area near the house in which I lived in West Hartford {Connecticut} when I was ten. It consisted of a series of empty lots that were never developed and left to overgrow. These several acres of bushes and trees were known by all as The Bumps…Every child in the neighborhood lived at the Bumps. Home was only where you went to eat and sleep. Almost every important moment of my life happened there that year. It was more than where I played. It was where I met my best friends, where I learned how to hide, where I got hurt, where I built a fort, where I learned to fight and where I learned to negotiate. The Bumps was a discarded place, but an authentic place because on any given day it could become anything or anyplace, whatever our imaginations demanded. How ironic that a site so neglected and so common supported so much life. The Bumps are gone today. I visited the area on a recent trip back to my hometown. A half dozen homes now stand on that hallowed ground. A perfectly paved road now cuts the area in half. There is no evidence of the field that was once there, and no evidence of the ghosts of youth that held it so precious. In today’s erosion of the authentic, places like the Bumps have become forgotten fields. Sadly, from what I have witnessed, they no longer seem necessary. They have been replaced, not by homes, but, in my opinion, Will, by video games – which buffer youngsters from any need for human contact, from any use of imagination, and render an authentic moment all but possible. The dungeons we created in the Bumps and the dragons we imagined were far more authentic than those on a video screen. I am reminded of the Bumps when I remember that while the authentic can be destroyed, it cannot be created.

Text on above pic:

We tend to think of the inequity in life from the perspective of the have-nots rather than the haves. Sometimes we do get more than we deserve. I often wonder what life would be like if it were fair. What if we got exactly what we deserved? There would be no skunks or poison ivy. I would never have stayed after school. I would have been co-captain of my Little League team, along with a kid who had thick glasses and protruding front teeth. I would have gotten every role I ever auditioned for. I would not have lost so many friends to accidents and disease. But if life were fair, it would be a life without growth and perspective. There is meaning in suffering, as difficult as it is to endure. From it, we learn humility and persistence. There is appreciation in abundance. From it we realize that life is full of grace as well.

Much as we depend on gravity to provide weight, we need suffering and abundance to give life a sense of context. Without gravity, there would be no resistance, and everything would have the same weightlessness, floating aimlessly without distinction. A mountain grows tall and gives us a better and better view the more it moves against the resistance of the earth.

It is a pretty philosophy to regard suffering as an opportunity for growth, but it does not fill the stomach of a starving child, and I have no answer for that. I believe that God can do all things, but I have come to realize through personal experience that sometimes He does not. I believe there is a plan that is beyond my comprehension that allows a place for catastrophic human suffering for reasons that reason will never understand. If we accept that unfairness is inevitable as long as we are alive, we can shift our focus to the far more important issue – how do we cope with suffering, both our own and in our compassion for the suffering of others?

William, I hope you take to heart this piece of advice, as it has helped me cope with every instance of personal hardship: You are not your circumstances. I’ll say it again: You are not your circumstances. What happens to you, good and bad, is not the essence of who you are. Your circumstances are external to you; don’t invite them in. They are unwelcome guests; they will try to make a victim of you. You will paralyze yourself with fear and depression if you let the unfairness of life become a part of who you are. Conversely, you will become vain and arrogant if you become absorbed by the abundance and good fortune that life will also bring your way. I’ve often looked to Scoshi {the dog} , a pillar of self-possession in moments of both feast and famine, when attempting to gain perspective in life: Scoshi is grateful when a chewie comes his way and doesn’t dwell on it when I forget to give him one. He is the same sweet dog sleeping on my pillow as he is sleeping with the scent of skunk on a bathroom floor. He never becomes his circumstances. It is not what happens to us in life, my boy; it is what we do about it. And that is the second element of coping with a world that is inherently unfair. How you react to both adversity and prosperity will determine your character, and, in many cases, your circumstances.

Sometimes you will realize, as I have, that the unfairness of rejection is simply protection in disguise. I have lived with much rejection. I have been cut from teams because I was not good enough to compete. I have lost many roles as an actor that I was not ready to command. I have had my heart broken by people who were not good for my life.

Marley and Me by John Grogan - More Grogan than Marley, I'd Say..

2011-08-05T03:56:00.002-04:00

Hey Rebel Readers!

Recently finished up Marley and Me by John Grogan. My mom sent me a copy last Christmas, telling me that the story reminded her of what I've told her about my Labrador's antics, and since Christmas she's been asking if I've read it yet. Well, mom, now I have =D Gotta say though, I'm a little bummed - the book was lauded as this stellar animal lover story but it just didn't reach that level for me. = ( I mean, the Grogans clearly loved Marley (most of the time) but damn, some of the sheer naive, almost negligent human behavior in this book stunned me!

"The Yellow Lab" by Dean Russo
See Dean's Etsy shop, 405 Poprocks,
with more of his artwork, here.
Amazing stuff!

For anyone that has not read this book, it is a work of non-fiction, in which newspaper columnist John Grogan tells the story of Marley, his Yellow Lab, a dog he deemed "the world's worst dog" (says so right on the front cover - see below:)

How bad can an animal with a face like that be? Well, I can tell you first hand - Labs are a handful! That face just makes it harder for you to really get that mad at them - you get steamed for about a minute and then you realize you're laughing at yourself and the dog because this Lab is looking at you like "Well, what did you expect - I'm a big bumblin' dog!" I'm serious, our Lab is 5 and most days she still has trouble working out a system where all her feet can go in the same direction, not to mention her infamous non-stop tail wagging, known to do record damage all on its own!

But back to the book - let me say I did enjoy the tales of Marley and his mischief, the problem for me was that there wasn't enough Marley in Marley and Me! I felt like I would get a brief, entertaining story about Marley and then Grogan would start rambling for pages on end about his work, he and his wife trying for a baby, his quest to find his perfect niche in life - that's all well and good but save it for an autobiography about YOU, or if you want to write a memoir - say it's a memoir about you with some funny dog stories thrown in (which is basically what this book felt like to me) instead of making it seem like it's 100% about the dog.

Though for me, this book may have been more aptly titled "Me... and oh yeah, Marley" , when Grogan did talk about Marley, I was entertained, particularly with the history of the breed : what is now known as the Labrador breed dates back to first being recognized around the Newfoundland area (Canada) in the 1600s, near but not exactly in the city of Labrador, though the exact origin of the breed is unclear. They were later imported to Europe where in the 1830s the 3rd Earl of Malmesbury deemed them Labradors and the name stuck While discussing the history of the breed, Grogan touched upon something that I immediately recognized in our Lab, Morgan:

"Labs were bred as working dogs and tended to have boundless energy. They were highly social and did not do well left alone for long periods. They could be thick-skulled and difficult to train. They needed daily rigorous exercise or they could become destructive. Some were wildly excitable and hard for even experienced dog handlers to control. They had what could seem like eternal puppyhoods, stretching three years or more. The long, exuberant adolescence required extra patience from owners {that's for sure!}. They were muscular and bred over the centuries to be inured to pain, qualities that served them well as they dove into the icy waters of the Atlantic to assist fishermen {I had to train Morgan just to voluntarily get into the bathtub to wash her!} But in a home setting, those same qualities also meant they could be like the proverbial bull in the china closet. They were big, strong, barrel-chested animals that did not always realize their own strength." Ch. 3

Just an example of this exuberance, below is a short clip of our dog, Morgan, during the first snow of last winter:

Then there was the bit about being angry at Marley, and I instantly thought of the times we've had to scold Morgan for bad behavior:

"As was a hallmark of his breed, he was immune to pain, an unstoppable force of muscle and sinew {we call our dog "The Mo Tank"}. Once when I was in the driveway washing the car, he jammed his head into the bucket of soapy water and galloped blindly off across the front lawns with the bucket stuck firmly on his head, not stopping until he crashed full force into a concrete wall. It didn't seem to faze him. But slap him lightly on the rump with an open palm in anger, or even just speak to him in a stern voice, and he acted deeply wounded. For the big, dense oaf that he was, Marley had an incredibly sensitive streak." Ch. 15

There is also discussion in this book about Marley's aversion to the sound of thunder... another commonality with my own dog. As soon as the sound comes, Morgan instantly finds the nearest human and huddles with all her heart! In the book, Marley was more of an extreme case, going so far as to turn to destructive behavior to vent his unease.

scene from the film Marley and Me

Though I enjoy and appreciate the story of Marley (just Marley) there were a couple things that stood out about this book that really bothered me - even in the bits about Marley:

1) In a later part of the book, Grogan makes a huge deal about meeting a nice pit bull, stating that the breed is known for their aggression. Nooo - pit bulls are known for their intense loyalty and protective nature over their owners but are in fact very loving and gentle with responsible, loving owners. It's the jackasses that raise them to be violent that makes it seem like they are an aggressive breed. I'll tell ya right now, reading this book, you'll find that this guy really tends to "just wing it" in the research dept.

2) Okay, let me start with referring to these two excerpts that just incensed me:

Chapter 23, Page 232 (paperback edition here): "...we began freely supplementing his diet with table scraps, against the better advice of every dog guide book we had ever read. Table scraps, we knew, simply programmed dogs to prefer human food to dog chow... Table scraps were a recipe for canine obesity. Labs, in particular, were prone to chubbiness, especially when they moved into middle age and beyond." Okay, so he's learned that much, right?

Reading on to Page 233-34: " Each evening after we finished our dinner, when it came time to give Marley a meal, I would fill his bowl with chow and then freely toss in any tasty leftovers or scraps I could find. With three young children at the table, half-eaten food was something we had in plentiful supply {two words here: compost bin - oh yeah and this guy was editor for Organic Gardening Magazine}. Bread crusts, steak trimmings, pan drippings, chicken skins, gravy, rice, carrots, pureed prunes, sandwiches, three day old pasta - into the bowl it went {I cringe!}. The only foods we kept from him were those we knew to be unhealthy for dogs, such as dairy products {you can give dogs cheese in small amounts, you know - sometimes it serves as the only way to get meds into them! And you avoid giving him dairy, but pan grease, dripping, and chicken skins are okay??? Order of Coronary, Table 2!!}, sweets, potatoes, and chocolates. I have a problem with people who buy human food for their pets {what's the difference if you're just giving the dog your share??} but larding Marley's meals with scraps that would otherwise be thrown out made me feel thrifty - waste not, want not - and charitable. "

Yeah... Vets love getting "donations" to their "charity" when such pet owners end up having to pay to have their dogs treated for obesity and canine diabetes, just to name a couple problems that develop from this kind of behavior - Marley himself goes on to have serious stomach issues - wonder how "thrifty" Grogan felt paying that tab.

Denial is more than just a river in Egypt...

There is also discussion of how Grogan freely lets Marley (even encourages him!) to come up the stairs in the dog's late years when he's battling severe hip dysplasia. I just wanted to slap this guy! There are sooo many things that could have led to less pain and trouble for this dog later in life. I'm not a perfect pet owner, I get mad and overreact at things at times, but I've raised animals all my life and I learned early on that you should reward a pet's loyalty by giving them the best, healthiest life possible - not give into indulgences (even though you know they can endanger the animal) just because you can't help yourself! This family was lucky to have a dog that was so loyal and loved them regardless but it just killed me that it could have been so much easier on him.

Grogan and his lab Woodson, who was one of the dogs
used to portray a young Marley
in Marley and Me

scene from Marley and Me

All this and the American Kennel Club actually went on to say (and I quote from an article off their own website) :

"Responsible dog ownership is something Grogan, the author of the best-selling book on which the film is based, knows better than anyone"

REALLY??? Better than anyone?? Did they read the same book I did? ' Cause those quotes about Marley's diet are Grogan's own words!

Well that's enough of a rant for now - Marley and Me is a cute story for the dog antic tales (tails?) - don't avoid it just because I didn't love it. I always encourage people to find out for themselves. What's blah for me could be mind-blowing for you and vice versa. If you had a different interpretation on reading this (or any book discussed here) feel free to tell me! I'm open to all views, even if they do not echo my own - I like variety and debate!

I've yet to see this movie in its entirety, but it's coming up on my Netflix so probably in the next few days - I'll let you know what I think ...

If you want to see a really funny review of the film Marley and Me, check this out!

If you are a Labrador owner and are interested in being part of an official club / community where you can mingle with other Lab lovers, there are a couple options for you :

~~~ The National Labrador Retriever's Club offers membership for $30 a year OR

~~~ The Labrador Retriever's Club, Inc. (the AKC Parent Club of Labrador Retrievers) offers membership for $15 a year.

Newfoundland dogs are cousins of the modern day Labradors - can you spot the resemblance? =)

Newfoundland dog

Pic of our Black Lab Morgan (taken a couple years ago)