memoir

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I’ve owned this book for ages.  I went to a charity literary lunch for my kid’s school at least three years ago where a room full of strangers (or at least almost everyone was a stranger to me) ate wonderful food and talked about books.  There is something unique about a group of strangers who gather only once to discuss books.  The conversation is very focused, we don’t know about each other’s lives or preferences, nor do we ever need to, it’s a one-shot, one-subject dialogue.  Of all the books discussed at the table, the one that stood out to me was Jeannette Walls’ memoir, The Glass Castle.  So  much so, that I immediately bought the book.  However, as is the case with so many books, it lingered on my shelves, surviving every clean out, but not making into my hands to open up and read.  It wasn’t until child abuse month for the Social Justice Reading Challenge that I finally picked it up (okay, child abuse was for March, and I read it in March, it’s just the review that’s a bit late.)

People who have read the book describe the opening scene:  Jeannette is in the back seat of a taxi in NYC going to a dinner party and she looks out the window to see her mother digging through a trash dumpster.  While the scene pulls the reader in from the beginning, after hearing about it multiple times and nothing else in the book, it all sounded too depressing and heavy to read.  It isn’t.

Jeannette had a horrible childhood, no doubt.  The book is appropriate for child abuse month because the parents are far more concerned with themselves, whether it be from drinking or narcissism or laziness, to provide the very basics for their children.   The children often go hungry (Jeannette describes hiding in the girl’s bathroom at school to steal the lunch bags thrown in the trash), do not have enough clothes, don’t bathe, and are frequently cold or living outside.  The father returns home drunk when he show up and the mother is incapable of leaving him or holding down a job.  Both parents justify their behavior as lifestyle choices, which I don’t have a problem with until they  have children and refuse to provide for their basic needs.  Once all of their children moved out of the house, the fact that Jeannette’s parents decided to live as squatters digging through dumpsters is fine, they are adults who have the right to choose their own lifestyle.

Yet, the picture isn’t black and white.  Jeannette describes a life with strong elements of adventure and love.  One of the most heartwarming scenes was the Christmas Jeannette’s father took each child outside to pick a star for their Christmas present.  It’s clear that for Jeannette every time she sees Venus (she traded up for a planet), it carries her father’s love for her.  Personally, if Jeannette’s parents couldn’t afford to give their kids presents because money was tight rather than because the father drank away their funds, the story would have meant more to me, but it isn’t my story to tell or my life to accept.  I’m impressed by Jeannette’s ability to overcome the physical and financial circumstances of her life and for finding ways to forgive and love her parents for themselves.

It is this aspect of acceptance that raises The Glass Castle beyond a hard-luck childhood memoir to a story of hope.

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My favorite books awards are the Man Booker (I can’t think of a single winner that has disappointed me, okay, maybe one), the National Book Award (somewhat the American equivalent), and the Indie Choice Book Award.*  Why the Indie Choice Book Award?  My hobby is to visit independent bookstores and ask the bookseller what book she currently loves.  If I could visit all of the bookstores in the nation in one year (dream road trip!) and ask the same question, then pick the top answers for various genres, I’d come close to the nominees for the Indie Choice Awards.  The nominees are chosen by a jury of independent booksellers, then voted on by booksellers across the country who are members of the ABA.  These are the people I trust to guide my reading and the Indie Choice Awards distills their recommendations. These books are the best of the best, chosen by people who love books and working with readers.  How can you go wrong?  Here are this years choices:

BOOK OF THE YEAR – ADULT FICTION

Border Songs, by Jim Lynch – Haven’t read, yet.

Brooklyn, by Colm Toibin – Loved the quiet beauty of this book and how he used Pride and Prejudice as a model, brilliant.

The Children’s Book, by A.S. Byatt - I have heard a chorus of raves about this book, I’m going to read it this summer (yes, some of my reading is booked that far out).

Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese – This has been a very popular book group choice.

Generosity: An Enhancement, by Richard Powers – I haven’t heard of it, which thrills me, can’t wait to learn more about it.

Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel – Loved, loved, loved this book.

I’ve only read two of the books and I can’t decide between them!  Wolf Hall is a safe choice because it has already won the Man Booker.  The atmosphere of Brooklyn is intoxicating, so I’m going to predict it as the winner.  Note, I can’t vote because I don’t own a bookstore, but that doesn’t stop me for having an opinion.  Generally, very little stops me from having an opinion.

BOOK OF THE YEAR – ADULT NONFICTION

Animals Make Us Human, by Temple Grandin

Lit: A Memoir, by Mary Karr

The Lost City of Z, by David Grann

Stitches: A Memoir, by David Small

Strength in What Remains, by Tracy Kidder

When Everything Changed, by Gail Collins

My non-fiction reading hit the skids last year, so many of these books are familiar to me, but I haven’t read them.  People have waited a long time for Lit and the New York Times named it one of the top ten books of 2009 (that’s another list I love).  However, nothing stops me from reading Gail Collins column in the NYT, it’s guaranteed to make me laugh.  I’m hoping Gail will win.

BOOK OF THE YEAR – ADULT DEBUT

The Earth Hums in B Flat, by Mari Strachan

The Help, by Kathryn Stockett

The Piano Teacher, by Y.K. Lee

The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet, by Reif Larson

Still Alice, by Lisa Genova

Tinkers, by Paul Harding

Who has any doubt the The Help will win?  I first heard about it from Haley at Between the Covers in Bend, OR.  I read it during a long drive (Keith was driving) that flew past as I was immersed in Stockett’s version of the South before the Civil Rights movement.

BOOK OF THE YEAR — YOUNG ADULT

Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins

Going Bovine, by Libba Bray

If I Stay, by Gayle Forman

Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld, Keith Thompson (illus.)

Shiver, by Maggie Stiefvater

Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson

This is the list my daughter waits for because she knows I’ll buy her every book she hasn’t read just to hear her opinion about them.  We both learned of The Hunger Games when it was nominated for the Indie Choice Award last year. Read the rest of this entry »

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A few weeks ago, Leslie and I and our respective husbands went to hear a friend sing Vitello’s in Studio City.  Knowing Portrait of a Bookstore was right across the street, we left the club with 30 minutes to spare before the store closed (love the late night hours at the store!).  How much damage could we do in 30 minutes?  Well, a lot.  Keith bought most of my birthday present, plus books for himself.  After a very convincing pitch from the bookseller, Leslie bought Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress by Susan Jane Gilman, a book that generally would not have attracted either of us.  So much for what we know, here are Leslie’s thoughts on the book:

One of the things I like most about independent bookstores is that the employees (many of whom are owners or invested in the business) are truly big readers. Since I’m assuming none of them are getting rich working there, they must really love books.

When I walk into an independent bookstore, I typically ask “What can you recommend?” This may either be for me or for my two pre-teen daughters. In many cases, my question has been rewarded with wonderful surprises.

Recently, Kim and I, along with our husbands, went to Portrait of a Bookstore, one of my favorite independents, is just across the street from a jazz club we visited. Needless to say, we walked out with books in our arms. Well, actually, the guys carried them.

As usual, the woman that was working that evening was just chock full of recommendations. One of the books that she mentioned was Hypocrite in a Pouffy Dress, a memoir, by Susan Jane Gilman. This is a book, had I simply seen on a shelf, I would never have picked up. I’m really fussy about the non-fiction I Read the rest of this entry »

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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 »

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We’re adding another feature

You already know that Kim and I like to read.  We also like to eat.  So it stands to reason that we like to read about food.  When I wrote a post a couple of weeks ago that described my new year’s resolution to become a vegetarian–a resolution inspired by two books about cooking and food–faithful reader and occasional contributor Meagan suggested we make food writing a regular part of the blog.  We love that idea.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that books about food can be broken down into four categories: 1. Cookbooks, 2. Essays about food and meals, 3. Anecdotes and memoirs about life in the food industry, and 4. Diet or prescriptive books about food (i.e. books about what we should or shouldn’t eat).

I’m sure I’ve left something out, but let’s just say for now that most books about food fit into at least one of these categories.

Oh, wait–thought of one more.  5. Fiction that includes recipes, like Nora Ephron’s Heartburn.

I think I’ve mentioned before on this blog that cookbooks are like pornography to me: I love to acquire them and leaf through their pages, giving free rein to my imagination as I gaze at photos and pretend that I could do such things, knowing full well I’ll probably never have the energy.  The truth is that most of the recipes I cook from are either old and scrawled on index cards or culled that day from the internet–it’s a lot faster to search for “miso salmon recipe” than it is to scan index after index of the cookbooks on my shelf.  But I still find myself drifting over to the cookbook shelves in bookstores and I still want to take home the most appealing ones I find. Like I said: it’s about dreaming, not necessarily doing.   Read the rest of this entry »

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