Friday, November 7, 2008

Deenie and Meet the Austins

I was inspired by the Fine Lines feature on Jezebel to revisit as some of my favorite books from my youth.

I went to the library and checked out Deenie, by Judy Blume. I remember reading this book for the first time when I was in third grade. I’m not sure if I’ve read it since then. I think I was too young to read it when I was in third grade, but I read it because Amanda Swann told me about it. For some reason, although I can’t remember why, I looked up to Amanda Swann, and I thought if she was reading it I should be reading it too. I remember very distinctly that she told me about the main character, Deenie, and how pretty she was and how was gonna be a model, and after her braces were off, she was gonna go out with Matt Kinsey. Matt Kinsey was this kid in our class who everyone liked, so I wasn’t surprised that Deenie would want to go out with him, but occurs to me now that it’s weird to think a fictional character would want to go out with a real kid in our class. When I actually read the book, I discovered that Deenie didn’t have braces on her teeth like I thought, she had a brace on her back or on her whole body, I actually didn’t really understand what the brace was all about. I did that a lot, as a kid, I read books that I wasn’t really old enough to understand and then wandered around with a lot of misconceptions.

I also checked out Meet the Austins by Madeline L'Engle. I don’t remember how long ago it was when I first read it, but it’s certainly been a long time, because I barely remembered it. At first I wasn't even sure if I'd ever ready it. Its the first book in a series about the Austin family. I know that at one timeI owned some of the books in the series--The Young Unicorns and a A Ring Endless Light—and read them several times. But I don’t think I ever owned Meet the Austins, so it’s probably been two decades since I read it. I don’t remember what I thought of the book when I first read it, but I was surprised upon this recent reading by how much I’d disliked the narrator. Or maybe it’s more appropriate to say that I disliked the narration, not the narrator. I’m sure the narrator herself would’ve been a fine person if I met her, but the way she narrated the story seemed really pretentious to me and I don’t think it was supposed to be. I feel like we’re supposed to like Vickiy Austen, but then she says things like Uncle Douglas is “an artist and lives in New York, and we all love him tremendously.” It’s in the first paragraph of the book and I’m already annoyed---by the word tremendously. It just sounds affected. I feel like the whole book seems to be straining to prove how special and wonderful the Austins are—particularly Vicky. Instead of letting us draw our own conclusions about Vicky, the other characters are used as mouthpieces to tell us what to think. For example, Vicky asks her Uncle Douglas why she’s having such trouble showing her Aunt Elena how sorry she is about her about the death of her Aunt Elena's husband. (Sorry this is confusing--Aunt Elena was married to Uncle Hal and Uncle Douglas actually not an Uncle, he's just a family friend.) But anyway:

“Uncle Douglas,” I said, “why is it that John can show Aunt Elena how sorry he is about Uncle Hal and I can’t, and I’m so terribly, terribly sorry?”
Uncle Douglas put his arm around me and his beard rubbed gently against my cheek. “Aunt Elena knows you’re sorry, dear.”
“But why does John know what to say, and how to say it, and all I can do is act stupid, as though it doesn’t matter?”
“Just because it matters too much. Have you ever heard of empathy?”
I shook my head.
“John can show Aunt Elena how sorry he is because he has a scientific mind and he can see what has happened from the outside. All good scientists have to know how to be observers. He can be deeply upset about Uncle Hal and deeply sorry for Aunt Elena, but he can be objective about it. You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you have an artistic temperament, Vicki, and I’ve never seen you be objective about anything yet. When you think about Aunt Elena and how she must be feeling right now, it is for the moment as though you were Aunt Elena; you go right inside her suffering, and it becomes your suffering too. That’s empathy, it’s something all artists are afflicted with.”
“Are you?”

“Sure. But I’m older than you are and I can cope with it better.”

In this passage I am somehow simultaneously annoyed with Vicky, John, Uncle Douglas and the author at the same time. Is it just me?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Giant's House

I know it annoys some people to talk about voice in fiction. It’s a workshop term, an MFA term—what does it mean? But sometimes I finish a book—in this case, The Giant’s House, by Elizabeth McCracken—and I feel as though a gentle voice has been telling me a story. This voice was quiet and a bit sad, resigned but not hopeless. This voice would go well with graham crackers and a mug of tea with milk. The voice told the story deliberately, unhurriedly, without flash or trickery. It is a love story, of sorts, but it is never mushy, never sappy. I recommend it without reservations to anyone who reads.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Away

My one reader was kind enough to wonder where I was. I thank you, kind reader. I’ll start with the crackers. I went into the cheese shop down the street. It’s one of those fancy cheese shops where cheeses cost $20.00 a pound and the people who work there are called cheesemongers. I love the word cheesemonger. It sounds like it should translate to cheese monster (like cookie monster)--so I picture the employees, after hours, throwing hunks of cheese into their mouths. Anyway I bought some of the less expensive cheese, an aged Vermont cheddar (betraying my Wisconsin roots). I bought some crackers from “The Fine Cheese Company”--they are mustard and black pepper for “mature cheddar.” I’m not sure how the cheese I bought it would feel about being called “mature”—are you calling me old? But cheddar did taste delicious with those mustard and black pepper oat crackers.

Later, at the grocery store, I bought some Cambozola. I think that’s what it’s called. It tastes like a combination of Camembert and Gorgonzola. I had it first at my friend Pauline’s house, and every time I went into a grocery store after that I would look for it, but I kept forgetting what was called. Was it Gorgonbert? Bluezola? Cambebrie? I knew it was the combination of two delicious cheeses. Anyway, I think I found it. I ate it on whole meal crackers also by The Fine Cheese Company. According to the box these are “a wheaty and crunchy cracker for strongly flavored cheeses.” I don’t know if Cambezola is strongly flavored—but it did taste very good with the wholemeal crackers. If you can find some Cambezola, I think you should buy it. And eat it. It’s also good with sourdough bread or a baguette.

On to the books. I checked out a whole bunch of books from the library. I read them eagerly, but then I had to return them before I had a chance to blog about them. I checked out a bunch more books and read them but then had to return them to the library. For some reason, I feel the need to blog with the book in front of me. I don’t know why. Finally, I just broke down and went to the bookstore to buy some books, so I still have them.

First I read the novel Away by Amy Bloom. It’s about a woman, Lillian Leyb, who emigrates to New York after her family has been killed in eastern Europe. She is told later that her daughter is alive, so she travels from New York to Alaska to try to make it to Russia to look for her daughter. This book is so tragic--it is tragedy upon tragedy, sorrow upon sorrow--that before long I became numb to it, as Lillian became numb to her own tragedies. She had to be numb to keep going. Usually I cry over tragedy like that but I didn’t shed as single tear until near the end of the book, when Lillian prays with three young children whose cabin she stumbled upon in her trek through the Alaskan wilderness.

“It’s not that prayer seems like a bad idea out here. It seems like a good and optimistic idea, but Lillian does not believe in anything like God. She’s petitioned particular gods lately (the god of edible red berries, the god of slow-moving streams), but she doesn’t address or hope to be heard by the Creator of the Universe. Lillian believes in luck and hunger (and greed, which is really just a rich man’s hunger--she doesn’t even mind anymore; that people are ruled by their wants seems a reliable truth). She believes in fear as a motivator and she believes in curiosity (hers should have shrunk to nothing by now but feeds on something Lillian cannot make sense of) and she believes in will. It is so frail and delicate at night that she cannot even imagine the next morning, but is so wide and binding by the middle of the next day that she cannot even remember the terrible night. It is as if she gives birth every day.

And the mighty kingdoms she has passed through, the ceaseless white, and the endless dark, swallowed up everything for weeks but spit back Ned and Billy and Sally, and as a kindness or afterthought Lillian as well. Tossed her up the path to the cold cabin, to children who would have died, first Sally, gone in a minute one sunny day, then Ned, neck broken trying to save Billy, fallen into the ravine looking for Sally. And Billy under a pine tree for two days and two nights, back broken, as the snow covered him. All three of them dead, plucked out of the world 12 days after the mother ate a very bad piece of meat. But here is Lillian and the four of them are safe in bed, and not cold, and not hungry. We live and we love the world, Lillian thinks, and we kid ourselves of the world loves us back.

'Boys,' she says. They will pray, no matter what any of them believes.

She says the Sh’ma Koleinu in Hebrew, stammering a little over her father’s phrasing. And she says in English, ‘Hear our voice, O Lord our God, pity us, save us, accept our prayer with compassion and kindness.’ She goes on to the next piece that she can manage to translate. ‘Do not abandon us, our God, do not be far from us.’ Oh do not be far from me, she thinks, and do not concern yourself with my lack of belief. ‘For You we wait, our God; You, O lord, will answer.’ ”


Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Beware of Oogies

Let's say, just for the sake of argument, that you try to eat a healthy diet. You eat lots of fruits and vegetables, you avoid fat whenever possible, and you try to eat reasonable portions. Let's say, in addition, that you love cheese and have poor self-control. One of the worst things you could do, in this situation, is to buy a bag of Oogies Gourmet Popcorn in the Smoked Gouda flavor. Now, the odd thing about this situation is that I don't even like Smoked Gouda. It is one of my least-favorite cheeses. And the name "Oogies" is weird and doesn't sound like something that should be eaten. But once I tasted a kernel, I was lost forever to the thrall of Smoked Gouda popcorn. The first taste isn't even that impressive--the first note of the flavor on your tongue is unassuming--pleasantly seasoned but nothing special. But the true flavor hits the back of your tongue as you swallow and the next thing you know your whole head is inside the bag.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Overheard on Overheard: I think I know this book

1PM Dude, Seriously, Switch to Historical Novels
Project manager, discussing book: It was so tragic! It's not just that they were clones and had their organs harvested, but they never got to really love each other!

Main Bountiful, Utah
via
Overheard in the Office, Jun 13, 2008

I think I've read this book. I think it's Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. It's an excellent book. But I guess there may be other tragic love stories of clones who have their organs harvested.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Baked Naturals What Crisps

I am eating these crazy good new crackers, they are called saltines. Ha, I’m just kidding. Pepperidge Farm has these new “Baked Naturals Wheat Crisps” that are very tasty. They are kind of like wheat thins but a bit lighter. They have kind of a wheatables texture, but with a much better flavor. They have a light sprinkling of salt and spices on top. They are addictive.

Speaking of Pepperidge Farm, I always thought it was Petridge Farm, for some reason, even though it clearly says Pepperidge on the box. I mean, I thought this up until several years ago. It’s like how I used to think a piece of luggage was called a “soupcase.” This isn’t when I was a cute little toddler either. I was, like, twelve, or something ridiculous when I finally got it. I mean, I never traveled with soup, but I never traveled with suits either, you know?

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Deli-Style Rye

What I am eating: Triscuit Deli-Style Rye
What they taste like: Triscuits with caraway seeds
Why the name doesn’t make sense: Delis aren’t known for selling crackers

Also, I have a confession. My love of crackers didn’t start out as a pure love. It began as a backlash against bread. You see, I also love bread, but bread goes bad quickly, and I am paranoid about mold. I would buy a loaf of bread, eat half of it, and then throw the other half away because I was afraid it had some invisible mold that would kill me. I tried putting the bread in the freezer, but then I had to toast it before I ate it and what if I wanted untoasted bread? I would end up with ancient, half-eaten loaves of bread in my freezer and guilt in my heart. (In addition to being paranoid about mold, I also feel intensely guilty about waste. It’s a tough place to be.) So I started buying crackers instead of bread! And I lived happily ever after.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Really bad book of the week: Ben Franklin and the Magic Squares

So, I tutor an adorable girl from Bangladesh. Every Thursday I walk over to her school to listen to her read whatever book she happens to have at her desk. Today, the book was Ben Franklin and the Magic Squares. Now, last week we spent half of our session wrestling with the library system at her school, trying to find a book that she would enjoy reading. I’d found that most of the books she’d been reading were too difficult for her and were about things she didn’t know about or care about. She reads enough of that kind of stuff in class every day, so I thought for our tutoring sessions it would be good for her to read something she was actually interested in and understood. We found a book about a girl whose father was from India. We started to read it last week. Anyway, when she came out of her classroom today she had the book we’d found last week, but she also had the book about Ben Franklin. She said her language arts teacher told her to read it. Anyway, the first half of the book is about Ben Franklin’s inventions, and that part was fine. Kind of boring, but fine. But the second half was about Franklin’s inventions of “magic squares.” You see, he found that if drew nine squares in a box (like a tic-tac-toe board), and put the numerals one through nine in a certain order (although they never explained how he discovered the order), then each row, column, and diagonal would equal 15. Amazing. But they never explained what was magical about this fact, what it meant about math, or why anybody should care.
I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t understand math.

Let me know in the comments: Can you explain what magic squares are? Do you have any suggestions for books that girls learning English as a second (or third) language might enjoy and relate to?

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

The Bread of Affliction

It's Passover, which means that I'm not supposed to be eating bread of any sort. Not even crackers! This is supposed to remind me of the exodus from Egpyt, when the Jews (who were slaves in Egypt) had to hurry to leave before the Pharaoh changed his mind. They didn't have time to let their bread rise, so they had to cook it in its unleavened state. The matzo we eat at Passover is supposed to remind us of this unleavened bread our ancestors ate. The problem for me is that matzo is basically a big ol' cracker, and you know how I feel about crackers. I love them.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Best Moments in Reading

The best moments in reading are when you come across something — a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things — which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.
—Hector, a general studies teacher, in The History Boys

I went to see The History Boys at the Studio Theatre last night. Central to the play is the question of why we study literature. This is a cerebral question, but reading itself can be visceral. Through most of the play I was thinking, rather than feeling, but when Hector talked about the feeling that a hand has come out and taken yours, I felt a thrill, a physical reaction as if the author of the play, Alan Bennet, had reached his hand out and touched me.

Friday, April 11, 2008

You've Got to Read This

Cress Delahanty, by Jessamyn West. I have a friend who works at a magazine, and sometimes she gives me review copies of books that publishers send her. She handed me this book and said "we never review fiction, but it seems like something you might like." Most of the books she gives me are new, but this book was first published in 1945 and had been out of print for a while, until The Feminist Press at the City University of New York republished it in 2006. Most of the books she passes along to me are barely readable, but this one was enchanting. It takes place in rural California in the 1940s. The protaganist is a teenage girl named Cress. The book is written in 16 sections--you could call them chapters, if you want to think of the book as a novel, or you could call them short stories, if you want to read the sections as seperate pieces. When I started reading I kept wondering how something so good could be so unknown. I had never heard of Jessamyn West until the day I picked up the book, and I started to doubt myself. Maybe it wasn't really that good? Maybe I was missing some serious flaw in the writing? That sounds silly, but I couldn't understand why this book wasn't being taught in literature classes across the country. It should be at least a minor classic. Read it and let me know what you think! If you know me, you can borrow my copy.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Wasa Crispbread

The first time I tasted Wasa crispbread I thought it tasted like cardboard--dry and flavorless. I still think it tastes a bit like cardboard, but I've grown to appreciate it. It only has 35 calories and 45 mg of sodium, and if you put a bit of cashew butter on it, you have a healthy snack that tastes pretty good. It's like the dictionary--not flashy, but sometimes just what you need.

Friday, April 4, 2008

Goldfish Crackers

I got a hot tip from a new acquaintance--whole wheat Goldfish crackers. He said that they were the worst crackers he'd ever tasted. I was intrigued, of course, so I bought a bag. Now, I won't lie to you, dear reader. They aren't the worst crackers I've ever tasted. They don't taste like cheddar (they are supposed to be cheddar flavor), but then, the regular cheddar-flavored Goldfish don't taste like cheddar either. They do have a bitter aftertaste. But, my sources indicate that I ate half the bag. So how bad could they be? I would compare these tiny crackers to the Oz books written by Ruth Plumly Thompson. Counterfeit, but still worth consuming.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

I've been so busy eating crackers and reading books that I forgot to post here about my two favorite activities.

One of the many books I read in the last month was Book of a Thousand Days, by Shannon Hale. It's a reinterpretation of a little-known fairy tale, Maid Maleen. It's categorized as a young adult book, but I thought the rich detail and and elegant style of writing would appeal to many adults as well. The book starts when the narrator, Dashti, (a maid), and Lady Saren are locked up in a tower for seven years because Lady Saren refused to marry the suitor her father has chosen for her. From there, the story spins out into a fantasy that is still grounded in excellent characterization and interesting culture. I kept thinking about this book for weeks after I read it, which is always a good sign. The only aspect of this book that bothered me was a sort of disconnect between the fantasy aspects and the realistic setting. The story takes place in medieval Mongolia, but obviously much of the details are fantastical (the villian of the story is a shape-shifter who takes on the appearance of a wolf, Dashti heals wounds by singing, etc). On the other hand, some of the details are true to what I know about Mongolia--Dashti's most precious possession is a yak. For some reason it bothered me to see real animal like a yak in this fantasy world.

Does this kind of disconnect ever bother you?

What kind of cracker goes with this book? I recommend a digestive (a type of english tea biscuit) and a glass of yak's milk.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Snow Flowers

I went to Eden Center (a Vietnamese shopping center in Falls Church, VA) with my friends the famous dcfood bloggers .They wanted to pick up some staples at the Vietnamese grocery store, and I wanted to find exotic crackers. I picked up two kinds.

Katashima brand “Snow Flower” crackers: These are kind of like rice cakes, but they are made with tapioca starch. Actually, you know what they’re really like? Have you ever had shrimp crackers? They have the consistency of shrimp crackers, but they taste faintly of coconut instead of shrimp. They have a sprinkle of sugar frosting on the top--I think that’s why they’re called snow flowers. Now that I’ve totally confused you with that description, I’ll add that I like them. They are just a tiny bit sweet, so they’re good if you want a sweet snack without too many calories. Actually, I have no idea how many calories they have, but they seem to be made mostly of air, so how many calories can they have?

Green Onion Thin Cracker: These are made by Silang. They are, as the name implies, thin crackers. They taste mostly like oil with a chemical aftertaste. So, not very tasty.

I went to a baby shower yesterday, and I was telling the father-to-be about my blog. He had the brilliant idea that I should match crackers to books--what kind of cracker would I associate with a particular book? And vice versa. So, here goes. The snowflower crackers are like Bridget Jones Diary--light, fun, but not particularly nutritious. The green onion crackers are like The Perks of Being a Wallflower--should have been good, but left a bad taste in my mouth.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Shorter books, more posts

I told my friend Yia about my blog, and said that I was having trouble writing regularly. I would like to post an entry every day, but it’s not every day that I finish a book or try a new kind of cracker. I mean, I could finish a book a day, but then I wouldn’t have time to work, and I could eat a new kind of cracker every day, but then I would have half-empty cracker boxes filling my kitchen. I guess I should have thought of this wrinkle before I started my blog.
Anyway, she suggested I read shorter books, and she loaned me Griffin and Sabine (the first book in the Griffin and Sabine trilogy by Nick Bantock) to help me out with this goal. I finished it in the car on the way home (don’t worry, I wasn’t driving). Now I desperately want to read the rest of the series! Help! I did read the trilogy before, when the books first came out (in the early nineties), but I was too cheap to buy them, so I just read them in the bookstore. I felt guilty about it, especially when I was taking the letters out of their little envelopes so I could read them. But I did it anyway. I just wanted to find out what happened! I have this problem sometimes, when I am reading a book that has some element of mystery or suspense to it (so, practically every book ever written), that I start reading more and more quickly as I get near the end because I just want to find out what happens. Unfortunately, that often means that I start missing important details and then I don’t understand the ending when I get to it. That’s what happened to me last time I read the Griffin and Sabine trilogy, but this time I’m going to do it right. So, right now I know that Griffin is a lonely artist and he starts receiving postcards from the mysterious Sabine, who lives on an exotic island and (supposedly) see visions of Griffon’s paintings (drawings?) as he creates them. Griffon starts to think that maybe he is going insane, and at the end of the book he has disappeared. I know that a griffon is a mythical creature with the head of an eagle and the body of a lion. Sabine uses a lot of bird imagery in her art, so I wonder if she is supposed to be a part of or a projection of some part of Griffon? One thing I notice on this reading is that Griffin's parents died early in his life (when he was 15, I think), but he wasn't sad about it at the time or later. That seems very strange. And perhaps significant?

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Books: I get on these Jane Austen kicks and I get the urge to read every Austen novel for the 12th time. The catalyst for the latest rampage is the PBS Masterpiece series of adaptations of Jane Austen novels that is currently running on Sunday nights. After watching the adaptations of Persuasion, Northanger Abbey, and Mansfield Park, I decided to read Sense and Sensibility again before watching the adaptation. I finished it on Friday, and discovered that Turner Movie Classics was showing the Emma Thompson adaptation of the novel on Sunday. I haven’t seen that version since it came out in theatres when I was in college. I had just finished a Jane Austen seminar, where we reading everything she wrote, including her juvenalia, which is hilarious, and her unfinished novels. Anyway, I remember watching the film at a theatre in Minneapolis, tears streaming down my face the whole time. It was awesome.

Crackers: It turns out that I don’t want to write about crackers today. Oops. I’ll just tell you about another book! A friend of mine lent me The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It takes place in Germany during World War II, and is narrated by Death. It’s a long book (about 550 pages), and the friend who lent it to me is a bit impatient with long books. She said she hadn’t finished it, but she had a pretty good idea of what happened at the end. The main character is Liesel Meminger. She lives on Himmel Street (Heaven Street) in Molching, Germany, and her family (actually, her foster family) takes in a Jewish refugee, Max, who hides in their basement. The book is darkly humorous, and less painful to read than I had expected. The relationships between Liesel and her foster mother and father are funny and touching. It did drag a little--I’m not sure it needed to be 550 pages. And at the end--SPOILER (highlight the following text to see the spoiler)--everyone on Himmel Street, including Liesel’s parents, neighbors, friends, and soulmate, is killed by a bomb. Only Liesel, who had been in the basement writing, and Max, in Aushweitz, survive. It's a sad book, but definitely worth reading.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Wisecrackers of Ingeside

Today's cracker: Wisecrackers Roasted Garlic with Rosemary

This light and flaky cracker has just enough garlic and rosemary flavor to make it interesting, but not overpowering. Quite tasty by itself, but it would also be good with cheddar or maybe a soft chevre.



Today's books: Anne's House of Dreams and Anne of Ingleside

These are book 5 and 6 of the Anne of Green Gables series. I read the whole series when I was in high school, but don't think I appreciated them properly at the time--certainly not the later books in the series. By the time I got to book 5, which begins with Anne's marriage and ends with the birth of her second child (her first child, sadly, lives only a few days), I wasn't very interested in what Anne was thinking or feeling. I guess I just couldn't relate. Sure, I cried [spoiler alert] when little Joyce died, but I don't think I understood the depth of that loss. Now that I'm older I have some inkling of what she was going through.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Today’s cracker: Health Valley Organic Garlic Herb Cracker Stix.
This cracker has a pleasantly light texture, but it doesn’t taste like either garlic or herbs. It’s good with hummus. It has a bit of a chemical aftertaste, which is strange--it's supposed to be organic! Also, I didn't notice until I wrote this post that it had the word "stix" in the title. I find that disturbing.

Today’s book: Schulz and Peanuts.
I just finished this biography of Charles Shulz by David Michaelis. I thought it was well written and engaging, although a bit sad. Shulz seemed like a very closed-off, somewhat immature person. He seemed unable to feel or express love for his wife or his children. He also seemed to use his strip in passive-agressive ways, at times. For example, he used Snoopy as a mouthpiece to express his feeling for the woman he was having an affair with, even after he told his wife he would end the affair.