Challenge

You are currently browsing the archive for the Challenge category.

Politics, history and Art, This Book was Written for Me

I meant to write this the day The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver won the first round of the Tournament of Books, but it’s been a crazy week.  I liked the book better than the judge or the commentators, and, I have to say that their reading and review of the book was too superficial for me.  I have a feeling that The Lacuna may make it one more round at the very most, so here’s my opportunity to say I enjoyed it.  In part because I was a Soviet Studies major in college, so I find Trotsky an interesting character (if you agree, try In the Casa Azul by Meaghan Delahut), also because I love history and last, but not least, I enjoy art.

Politics

Kingsolver has a lot to say out the press and public acceptance of whatever appears in black and white.  Repeatedly through the discussions of the press in Mexico and later in the United States with Harrison, the main character, Kingsolver portrays the press as the howler monkeys introduced on the first page:

In the beginning were the howlers.  They always commenced their bellowing in the first hour of dawn, just as the hem of the sky began to whiten.  It would start with just one:  his forced, rhythmic groaning, like a saw blade.  That aroused others near him, nudging them to bawl along with his monstrous tune.

Sadly, little has changed, where was the press during the run up to the Iraqi War?  Chasing Michael Jackson or the latest starlet sinking into a life of excess, picking up the latest howl of scandal, rather than asking the hard questions.  Personally, as much of a fan as I am of the New York Times (it’s the paper I read daily), it has a lot to be ashamed of during this first decade of the 21st century.  Kingsolver gives two options for coping with the howling press:  hide in plain sight as flamboyant Frida did, all those wonderful dresses and hairstyles covered her physical deformities and emotional pain, or hide altogether.

The Lacuna concludes with an incredible dialogue during a Committee on Un-American Activities hearing (I’ve always thought the title of those hearings really referred to the activity of the hearings more than the investigation purported to be the focus of the hearings).  A week ago, I would have said those hearings were an embarrassing part of our history, but Lynn Cheyney’s attacks on lawyers who respect our country and Constitution so much that they represent despicable people reminded me that political persecution is alive and well.

History

Kingsolver uses the book to present a view that history is made up of individuals.  Most obviously, she brings Tolstoy, Rivera and Kahlo to life as breathing, jealous, caring, contradictory people.  The affairs, the meetings, the food, the egos are all mixed together with creating great art and political thought.  We are left with political theory and art that influenced the course of history, but the reader sees the people who created the works.  A conversation between Kahlo and Harrison Read the rest of this entry »

  • Share/Bookmark

Sometimes I am asked if I know “the response to Auschwitz’: I answer that not only do I not know it, but that I don’t even know if a tragedy of this magnitude has a response.  What I do know is that there is “response” in responsibility.  When we speak of this era of evil and darkness, so close and yet so distant, “responsibility” is the key word.  – Elie Wiesel

When I read Holocaust literature as a teenager, I was always the strong determined character who beat the odds and survived.  Tragedy provided a background for my heroic actions as Miep or Corrie Ten Boom.  Motherhood changed all that.  Now I’m the mother who can’t stop the Nazis from forcing her child to dig his own grave.  The mother who trods with so many others in peaceful lines to the gas chambers holding my child’s hand.  Or the very worst, I’m Sophie and I have to choose.  Claire won’t read Holocaust literature anymore, it’s too painful.  I completely support her choice.  If a book comes up that deals with the Holocaust, I quietly warn her to skip it.  But as painful as it is for me to read these stories, there is a part of me that believes if millions of people had to live and die this horror, then the least I can do is witness it in some small way.

My greatest honor as an attorney was the opportunity to work with Bet Tzedek to assist Holocaust survivors in obtaining the “Ghetto Pension” [an aside, if you know if a survivor who has not applied for the 2,000 euro Ghetto Pension/ZRBG pension, please contact Bet Tzedek to determine eligibility, today].  From my limited exposure, it appeared that the survivors who were alive today were swept into the Nazi system late in the war when they were teenagers.  Not too young or too old to fall victim to the selections, strong enough to survive until the war ended within the next 12 to 18 months.  And they barely survived.  My teenage visions of bravery were more illusory than I thought.  Elie Wiesel’s Night supports my very unscientific theory.

The Nazis arrived in Wiesel’s village in Transylvania when he was fifteen.  His experience Read the rest of this entry »

  • Share/Bookmark

I thoroughly enjoyed Agnes Grey by the youngest of the Bronte sisters, Anne.  Agnes’ astonishment at the values of the people she serves as governess, but faithful determination to do her best job, impressed me.  I have encountered people similar to Rosalie and the Bloomfield family. Luckily, I’m not employed by such people and can simply chose to ignore them.  Not so for Agnes, as a governess she lived with them and worked for them.  At a Literary Luncheon discussion of Agnes Grey led by Dr. Alice Villasenor, she brought interesting insight to Agnes’ plight in English society.

The English governess occupied a unique and lonely role in society.  She must be educated enough to teach others, but poor  enough to needed a job.  She wasn’t in the same social class, but she ate at with the family.  She was present, but could be treated with disdain.  She wasn’t a servant, but she wasn’t a friend.  Agnes’ experience walking home from church exemplifies this quandary:

But when I did walk, this first half of the journey was generally a great nuisance to me.  As none of the before-mentioned ladies and gentlemen ever noticed me, it was disagreeable to walk beside them, as if listening to what they said, or wishing to be thought one of them, while they talked over me or across, and if their eyes, in speaking, chanced to fall on me, it seemed as if they looked on vacancy – as if they either did not see me, or were very desirous to make it appear so.

It was disagreeable, too, to walk behind, and thus appear to acknowledge my own inferiority; for, in truth, I considered myself pretty nearly as good as the best of them, and wished them to know that I did so, and not to imagine that I looked upon myself a a mere domestic, who knew her own place too well to walk beside such fine ladies and gentlemen as they were . . . though her young ladies might choose to have her with them, and even condescend to converse with her, when no better company were at hand.

It was an isolated life, not part of the community of servants downstairs and excluded from the family life upstairs.  Agnes goes weeks without having a conversation outside her role a governess.

The governess’ presence at the dinner table served as an uncomfortable warning and threat.  The governess was a constant reminder that if a daughter didn’t marry, she would have to earn Read the rest of this entry »

  • Share/Bookmark

What is it about a list that gets me going?  Years ago someone asked me, “what makes a good day?”  My immediate response was “one in which I cross off everything on my list.”  That is an answer that should send most people into therapy.  While I currently wouldn’t respond the same way (I didn’t start therapy, I just stopped making daily to-do lists, which is probably an indication of denial or avoidance or some other under-rated coping device), I recognize that a list inspires me to action.  I enjoy list making so much that I wonder if I can include it as a hobby.  My favorite part comes later – the crossing off.  The satisfaction I feel is wonderful.  I’ve included on a list tasks I’ve already completed, just so I can cross them off.  I think it is this addiction that attracts me to reading challenges.

Last year I joined four reading challenges:  the Essay Reading Challenge, the Art History Reading Challenge, the World Citizen Challenge and 100 Shots of Short (a short story challenge).  All taught me a bit about my reading and the subject I explored.  Well, almost all, I never read a single book for the World Citizen Challenge, but I did read the New York Times all year, which should compensate a little bit.  Here are my plans for this year:

  • My favorite challenge was the Essay Reading Challenge, so I’ve joined it again.  Because I don’t write reviews of each of the essays, there is a page dedicated to this challenge and I’ll write a wrap up post when I’m done.
  • 100 Shots of Short is a perpetual challenge and I’m just over halfway done.  Again, because I don’t review every short story, I have a separate page for 100 Shots of Shorts.
  • I love the Art History Reading Challenge and am looking forward to another year of reading about and viewing art.  Last year I committed to the six book level, this year I’m going to strive for nine books.  I’m hoping to combine what I’m reading with what I’m seeing to enrich both.  I will write separate posts about the books I read.
  • I signed up for Literary Affair’s Bronte Literary Luncheon series and was excited to see the All About Bronte Challenge.  I was going to read the books anyway, so it feels like a “gimmie” but why pass up a list crossing off opportunity?  This challenge includes books by and about the Brontes plus spin offs from the novels, and the Bronte movies.  I’ll commit to reading three Bronte books, one from each sister, but am hoping to do more.  I’ll write separate posts for my book reviews.
  • Even though I utterly failed at the World Citizen Challenge, I’ve decided to join the Social Justice Challenge.  For me, a book can be good on it’s own, but what makes it rise to the pantheon of great in my life is if it contributes to my non-reading life.  That could mean that it is the spring board for a great conversation, or it causes me to see a different viewpoint, or it enriches an experience related to the book.  What attracts me to the Social Justice Challenge is that for at least three months during 2010 the participants commit to doing something.  Each month of the challenge concentrates on a different issue.  This month is religious freedom and next month’s topic is water.  Each month the participants commit to a certain level of activity related to the issue, some months just reading a book, other months reading and doing an activity ,and if needed, a few months can be spent just observing what others are doing.  I’m looking forward to exploring important topics a little bit deeper.  During the months that I’m reading a book, I’ll post about it.

Those are my hopes for 2010, in addition to reading books for book groups, literary events, vacation, spiritual direction, translated books and just because it looks interesting.  Let us know of any interesting challenges you’ve found (even if you didn’t join).

  • Share/Bookmark

This is a tale of two books, neither of which I’ve read.

But let me first start with Kim who last year made a true literary resolution to elevate her daily conversations about books and reading, thus encouraging others to read and to talk about what they’ve read.   Kim also challenged herself as a reader in a variety of awe-inspiring ways: I invite you to enter the word “challenge” into our search engine and discover the various goals she set for herself–and kept, from reading more essays to searching out books about art history.  This year, it was my turn to think about a New Year’s resolution.

But there’s a problem: I’m terrified of goals because I have a bad habit of not keeping them.  You may have noticed I didn’t join any of Kim’s challenges.  It wasn’t because she didn’t invite me.

So I didn’t wake up all hungover and bloated on New Year’s Day and start making lists of how “this year is going to be different.”  I’m too old to believe that January 1 is anything special.  I’ve seen too many come and go and can’t help noticing that the woman who wakes up on on the first day of the new year is the same one who went to sleep the night before.  She’s just a day older.

And yet there’s this: I’m going to be a vegetarian in 2010. Read the rest of this entry »

  • Share/Bookmark

« Older entries