This week turned out to be a bonanza, reading-wise -- nearly every book I brought home from the library was at least readable! I started with a nonfiction selection midweek (I try not to get into fiction during the workweek, because it doesn't do to get too attached when one is busy) called Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness. By Alexandra Fuller, it is the companion book to Let's Not Go to the Dogs Tonight, and is a memoir of much of her life and her mother's life living as a white African. Nearly everyone in this book is certifiable, which is what gives the book its entertainment value. Yes, I know mental instability is no joke, but Fuller certainly seems to find a lot of humor in the rampant manic-depressive behavior of her relatives. Most of the book just verges on the unbelievable, but it's an engrossing read all the same.
Speaking of humor, I recently rediscovered a mystery series by Donna Leon that I'm finding hilarious. Her Commissario Guido Brunetti series, set in Venice, is full of Venetian atmosphere, as well as Italian in-jokes. I'm sorry to say that most Americans are not going to fully appreciate the humor; I think you really have to either be Italian or know Italian culture intimately to get the "laugh out loud" benefit of these books. However, they are written nicely, have interesting characters, and feature compelling mysteries that are not too complex to be solved by the reader. I'm currently enjoying Acqua Alta; I have no idea of the order in which they are written but it does not seem to matter.
If you enjoy the books of Fannie Flagg (previously reviewed here), you'll appreciate The Homecoming of Samuel Lake, by Jenny Wingfield. Set in the American South in the 1950's, featuring a cast of incredibly quirky characters, this book bears a great deal of similarity to Flagg's stories. One difference, however, is that while Flagg's villains border on the ridiculous, Wingfield's villains are far more seriously evil. There's a happy ending, but not quite as rainbow tinted as you'd find in a Flagg book.
I know you're probably waiting for this week's chick-lit selection, and here it is -- Kindred Spirits, by Sarah Strohmeyer. It has all the usual ingredients: four friends, martini recipes, memories, at least one family feud, and everyone has something to hide. The predictability is downright soothing. As an antidote, one can turn to a somewhat more literary selection, and this one comes with a pedigree. The Silver Lotus is written by Thomas Steinbeck, the son of John Steinbeck. Flipped open at random, this book seems as though it would be dreadfully boring, but attempt it from the beginning and you won't want to put it down. Oddly, the entire book is written as a narrative; there is no dialogue whatsoever. Steinbeck simply tells the story of Lady Yee, a very unusual Chinese woman of the turn of the century. This story is strangely compelling, even though it's not suspenseful or even exciting. I can't really explain it; perhaps talented writing is all it takes? Let me know what you think.
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Monday, January 2, 2012
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Little Women, Revisited
If you've never read Little Women, or if you've read it (or watched it) and loathed it, go play some Angry Birds, because this post is definitely not for you.
The Little Women Letters, by Gabrielle Donnelly, is a fluffy treat of a book. It's nearly chick lit, but not quite, because there isn't anyone nasty in the book (and if they are, you soon see their redeeming features). It's a feel-good book that will make you laugh out loud; in my case, I did so several times.
The book is based on the premise that the story of Alcott's Little Women is actually true, and that the March family did exist. It focuses on three contemporary sisters, Emma/Josephine, Lulu, and Sophie, and their lovable but slightly odd parents. There are truly no evil characters in this story -- everybody is really so nice! Even the characters who initially seem standoffish or rude quickly are dealt with and their inner niceness is revealed.
Lulu, the middle sister, is going through a bit of a career crisis when she discovers the letters of her great-grandmother, Josephine March. (Just a note of explanation -- the book takes place in England; her father is English and her mother is a transplanted American). Through the letters, Lulu finds a lot of comfort, and of course the storyline cooperates.
The relationships in this book are ridiculously too good to be true, and the conversations almost sitcom-like, but who cares? It makes its reader so so happy. This is definitely a book to pick up if you're blue.
The Little Women Letters, by Gabrielle Donnelly, is a fluffy treat of a book. It's nearly chick lit, but not quite, because there isn't anyone nasty in the book (and if they are, you soon see their redeeming features). It's a feel-good book that will make you laugh out loud; in my case, I did so several times.
The book is based on the premise that the story of Alcott's Little Women is actually true, and that the March family did exist. It focuses on three contemporary sisters, Emma/Josephine, Lulu, and Sophie, and their lovable but slightly odd parents. There are truly no evil characters in this story -- everybody is really so nice! Even the characters who initially seem standoffish or rude quickly are dealt with and their inner niceness is revealed.
Lulu, the middle sister, is going through a bit of a career crisis when she discovers the letters of her great-grandmother, Josephine March. (Just a note of explanation -- the book takes place in England; her father is English and her mother is a transplanted American). Through the letters, Lulu finds a lot of comfort, and of course the storyline cooperates.
The relationships in this book are ridiculously too good to be true, and the conversations almost sitcom-like, but who cares? It makes its reader so so happy. This is definitely a book to pick up if you're blue.
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Persistence of Memory
I just finished a new book called What Alice Forgot, which I haven't been able to stop thinking about. By Liane Moriarty, an Australian author who I have never heard of until now, this is chick lit with a twist.
Alice takes a hard fall during her weekly spin class, hits her head, and when she comes to, it's 1998 and she's pregnant with her first child (she calls it the sultana; I think this is Australian for raisin). Except it's not 1998 -- it's 2008, and Alice has lost the memories of ten years, has no recollection of her three children, and is evidently about to divorce her husband and can't remember why.
The ensuing action is fascinating. The 2008 Alice, as depicted through the eyes of the other characters, is a hardened woman with uber-mommy features and doesn't seem at all like the sweet, loving, idealistic 1998 Alice. My favorite part deals with an episode involving her teenager (the former sultana) who is suspended from school for some infraction. It's clear that the 2008 Alice, full of resentment towards the child who's evidently been giving her a hard time, would have dealt with this in a very different way than the new/old Alice who has just met her. 1998 Alice thinks Madison is a lovely girl, and with none of the backstory to affect her behavior, deals with the problem easily in a loving and proper manner.
I won't give away any more of this delightful story, but I would definitely categorize this as a must-read.
This reminded me a little of another book that I've mentioned before, which shares the theme of memory and the effect it (and the lack of it) can have on one's life. Welcome To The World, Baby Girl, by Fannie Flagg, kept coming to mind as I read this book, even though in many ways they are not alike. However, in this book memories that are buried and forgotten set off a sequence of events that culminate in a real comfort of a novel.
Alice takes a hard fall during her weekly spin class, hits her head, and when she comes to, it's 1998 and she's pregnant with her first child (she calls it the sultana; I think this is Australian for raisin). Except it's not 1998 -- it's 2008, and Alice has lost the memories of ten years, has no recollection of her three children, and is evidently about to divorce her husband and can't remember why.
The ensuing action is fascinating. The 2008 Alice, as depicted through the eyes of the other characters, is a hardened woman with uber-mommy features and doesn't seem at all like the sweet, loving, idealistic 1998 Alice. My favorite part deals with an episode involving her teenager (the former sultana) who is suspended from school for some infraction. It's clear that the 2008 Alice, full of resentment towards the child who's evidently been giving her a hard time, would have dealt with this in a very different way than the new/old Alice who has just met her. 1998 Alice thinks Madison is a lovely girl, and with none of the backstory to affect her behavior, deals with the problem easily in a loving and proper manner.
I won't give away any more of this delightful story, but I would definitely categorize this as a must-read.
This reminded me a little of another book that I've mentioned before, which shares the theme of memory and the effect it (and the lack of it) can have on one's life. Welcome To The World, Baby Girl, by Fannie Flagg, kept coming to mind as I read this book, even though in many ways they are not alike. However, in this book memories that are buried and forgotten set off a sequence of events that culminate in a real comfort of a novel.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
China In American Fiction
This weekend I read a recently-released book by Lisa See called Dreams of Joy; she's also the author of several other China-themed books which I read but haven't really retained well. The protagonist, Joy, flees her native Los Angeles in the 1950's after a series of events uncovers a family secret. Joy, a naive-to-the-point-of-stupidity college student, decides to go to Communist China to find her father, believing that she can be part of the glorious revolution that is making China so wonderful. Boy, is she in for a surprise. Her mother, Pearl, fully recognizing the danger Joy faces, returns to China to find her and bring her home, but of course it's not that simple.
See's descriptions of life during the Great Leap Forward remind me of the books of Betty Bao Lord; I loved her The Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson as a child and enjoyed Eighth Moon and Spring Moon as an adult. The way life is portrayed during this time is almost too horrible to be believed, but if one reads the latest biography of Mao Zedong by Jung Chang it seems natural that such a man would create these terrible circumstances.
Amy Tan is another writer who seems to have defined the genre of the Chinese in America -- her Joy Luck Club is an excellent book, as well as The Kitchen God's Wife and others. My favorite, and an exception to her usual genre, is Saving Fish from Drowning, which is set in Burma and features a group of tourists who get lost.
See's descriptions of life during the Great Leap Forward remind me of the books of Betty Bao Lord; I loved her The Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson as a child and enjoyed Eighth Moon and Spring Moon as an adult. The way life is portrayed during this time is almost too horrible to be believed, but if one reads the latest biography of Mao Zedong by Jung Chang it seems natural that such a man would create these terrible circumstances.
Amy Tan is another writer who seems to have defined the genre of the Chinese in America -- her Joy Luck Club is an excellent book, as well as The Kitchen God's Wife and others. My favorite, and an exception to her usual genre, is Saving Fish from Drowning, which is set in Burma and features a group of tourists who get lost.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Wild Ride, Indeed
It's not unusual to find overlap between different genres; a case in point would be historical fiction and mystery. There are many good examples of books which represent the best of both types of writing. More rare, however, is a book that is a fusion of, say, chick-lit and fantasy. Wild Ride, by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer, is just that type of book.
Crusie has published several entertaining chick-lit type books; I've never read anything by Mayer, but I'm assuming he brings the fantasy to the table. Essentially, Wild Ride is a book about an amusement park that is inhabited by demons. Called the Untouchables, these demons are enclosed in chalices to keep them from wreaking havoc; the longtime park employees make up a group called the Guardia and must endeavor to keep the world safe from the demons and their minions. Add several young women, a few young men, family secrets, and a love interest, and, Ta-Da! chick-lit and fantasy meld quite entertainingly.
Another book I read this weekend got a song stuck in my head, playing in an endless loop. Remember that Herman's Hermits song, Henry the eighth I am? About the fellow who married the widow who'd been married seven times before? Well, The Ninth Wife doesn't quite play out like that, but at its center is Rory, a man who narrates the stories of his eight marriages, interspersed with the story of Bess, who meets Rory and seems destined to be wife number nine. The characters in this book are very likable and don't necessarily develop the way the reader would expect. All in all, this is an engrossing and diverting book.
Crusie has published several entertaining chick-lit type books; I've never read anything by Mayer, but I'm assuming he brings the fantasy to the table. Essentially, Wild Ride is a book about an amusement park that is inhabited by demons. Called the Untouchables, these demons are enclosed in chalices to keep them from wreaking havoc; the longtime park employees make up a group called the Guardia and must endeavor to keep the world safe from the demons and their minions. Add several young women, a few young men, family secrets, and a love interest, and, Ta-Da! chick-lit and fantasy meld quite entertainingly.
Another book I read this weekend got a song stuck in my head, playing in an endless loop. Remember that Herman's Hermits song, Henry the eighth I am? About the fellow who married the widow who'd been married seven times before? Well, The Ninth Wife doesn't quite play out like that, but at its center is Rory, a man who narrates the stories of his eight marriages, interspersed with the story of Bess, who meets Rory and seems destined to be wife number nine. The characters in this book are very likable and don't necessarily develop the way the reader would expect. All in all, this is an engrossing and diverting book.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Cinderella Ate My Daughter? Or Was It The Unnatural Selection?
I've done very well with nonfiction lately; not so well with fiction, sadly. It's a shame, because now that my summer vacation has begun, I could really do with some lovely frivolous reading. Well, it can't be helped.
One very entertaining nonfiction book I read lately was Cinderella Ate My Daughter, by Peggy Orenstein. A prolific writer about girls and growing up female, Orenstein has a bit of shock when she finally has her own daughter. Determined to raise an empowered girl, who does not feel trapped by stereotypes, she encourages her to like the characters of her choice (Thomas the Tank Engine) and engage in any type of play, not simply girl-specific activities. However, she soon realizes that this will not work -- Daisy's Thomas lunchbox hits the dirt as soon as a classmate points out that "only boys like Thomas the Tank Engine," and Orenstein soon sees her daughter swallowed by the whole Disney Princess culture -- in spite of her best efforts to indoctrinate her daughter against that world.
This book explores much of this culture -- Orenstein goes into the world of kiddie pageants, American Girl dolls, fairy tales, and Disney movies. She explores the role of girls in popular culture (or lack thereof) and does a great deal of hand-wringing over her lack of control over how her daughter finds her place in the world. I think this book speaks more of our inability to really form our children in the way we'd ideally wish, and how culture and the outside world has so much influence.
Once we're on the topic of gender, Unnatural Selection comes along with a warning tocsin, citing new research in Asia and even parts of Europe that show parents electing to abort female fetuses after ultrasound identification. Mara Hvistendahl, the author, sketches for the reader the cultural background for this alarming trend, and goes further by proposing the unintended consequences of such behavior. And these consequences may in fact be dire. It's an interesting read, if a bit panicky.
On another topic entirely, Malled is the account of a journalist seeking some additional income who goes to work as a sales associate for The North Face. She goes on and on about how industry culture treats the lowly sales associate like dirt, who subsequently treats the customer badly, eventually quits or is fired, explaining the ridiculous turnover rate. One thing I came away with -- I will, in future, always attempt to be friendly, appreciative, and courteous to any sales associate who assists me.
One very entertaining nonfiction book I read lately was Cinderella Ate My Daughter, by Peggy Orenstein. A prolific writer about girls and growing up female, Orenstein has a bit of shock when she finally has her own daughter. Determined to raise an empowered girl, who does not feel trapped by stereotypes, she encourages her to like the characters of her choice (Thomas the Tank Engine) and engage in any type of play, not simply girl-specific activities. However, she soon realizes that this will not work -- Daisy's Thomas lunchbox hits the dirt as soon as a classmate points out that "only boys like Thomas the Tank Engine," and Orenstein soon sees her daughter swallowed by the whole Disney Princess culture -- in spite of her best efforts to indoctrinate her daughter against that world.
This book explores much of this culture -- Orenstein goes into the world of kiddie pageants, American Girl dolls, fairy tales, and Disney movies. She explores the role of girls in popular culture (or lack thereof) and does a great deal of hand-wringing over her lack of control over how her daughter finds her place in the world. I think this book speaks more of our inability to really form our children in the way we'd ideally wish, and how culture and the outside world has so much influence.
Once we're on the topic of gender, Unnatural Selection comes along with a warning tocsin, citing new research in Asia and even parts of Europe that show parents electing to abort female fetuses after ultrasound identification. Mara Hvistendahl, the author, sketches for the reader the cultural background for this alarming trend, and goes further by proposing the unintended consequences of such behavior. And these consequences may in fact be dire. It's an interesting read, if a bit panicky.
On another topic entirely, Malled is the account of a journalist seeking some additional income who goes to work as a sales associate for The North Face. She goes on and on about how industry culture treats the lowly sales associate like dirt, who subsequently treats the customer badly, eventually quits or is fired, explaining the ridiculous turnover rate. One thing I came away with -- I will, in future, always attempt to be friendly, appreciative, and courteous to any sales associate who assists me.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Vicarious Travel
It's always wonderful to get a chance to go away on vacation, a change of scenery, different people. Nicer still is the opportunity to shed household responsibilities, childcare responsibilities, and the constant burden of one's job. Unfortunately, we're not all so lucky. While it would be a treat to spend a few days on a tropical island, or touring a beautiful cosmopolitan city, some of us have to resort to other means of getting away -- a vacation of the mind, as it were.
There are some really diverting books available which, if read during a calm moment, in a quiet spot, can take you away in spirit if not corporeally. This week I spent time in Hawaii, in a book entitled Unfamiliar Fishes. Really a history of the American takeover of the island, the author tries to get under the skin of Hawaiian culture and succeeds in taking the reader with her. I never did know much about our 50th state, and I didn't have much interest, but this book successfully sucked me in.
Ireland Unhinged, by a writer who transplanted his family from Connecticut to Cork, is another matter. This is more like travel writing, with a bit of history and a lot of humor thrown in. Again, a topic in which I had no previous interest, but the book held me until the last page.
To go to India without the inconveniences of unreliable electric and water service (not to mention the pollution), read Sideways on a Scooter, written by a journalist who spends time living in Delhi and is enraptured by the country. Her experiences discovering quite how deeply the concept of caste is still embedded, and how marriages take place, are worth reading. One comes away with, perhaps, a less than wholly positive opinion of the writer, but no matter -- it's a very readable book.
There are some really diverting books available which, if read during a calm moment, in a quiet spot, can take you away in spirit if not corporeally. This week I spent time in Hawaii, in a book entitled Unfamiliar Fishes. Really a history of the American takeover of the island, the author tries to get under the skin of Hawaiian culture and succeeds in taking the reader with her. I never did know much about our 50th state, and I didn't have much interest, but this book successfully sucked me in.
Ireland Unhinged, by a writer who transplanted his family from Connecticut to Cork, is another matter. This is more like travel writing, with a bit of history and a lot of humor thrown in. Again, a topic in which I had no previous interest, but the book held me until the last page.
To go to India without the inconveniences of unreliable electric and water service (not to mention the pollution), read Sideways on a Scooter, written by a journalist who spends time living in Delhi and is enraptured by the country. Her experiences discovering quite how deeply the concept of caste is still embedded, and how marriages take place, are worth reading. One comes away with, perhaps, a less than wholly positive opinion of the writer, but no matter -- it's a very readable book.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Brave Mom Writes "Brave Girl Eating"
This is, emphatically, not the type of book I typically select. In fact, I've been seeing it on the library new book shelf for the last couple of weeks, and passing it by. However, this week I took it out, and read it, and now I'm writing about it. In part, this is my way of marking Mother's Day on my blog (why not?), but the impetus to actually read this book came from the fact that I was recently touched, quite indirectly, by the death of a friend's friend who was rumored to have suffered from anorexia most of her short life.
What I know about anorexia is fairly limited -- it's taught in the Abnormal Psychology class that was a requirement; nowadays most schools try to educate their female students about eating disorders, but this was not something that was talked about -- not out loud -- when I was a teenager. It is also poorly understood; not just by the layman, but by experts as well. The theories I learned in college are no longer in vogue and have been replaced by a new set, perhaps more valid, perhaps not.
Harriet Brown pens this memoir of her experiences with her daughter, Kitty, with remarkable aplomb. What must have been a gut-wrenching experience for her comes through so remarkably and believably, the reader wants to reach through the pages and hug her. Once Brown comes to the realization that her daughter has this terrible illness, she casts around for ways to help her. Her choices at the time boil down to sending her away to a specialized residential clinic, or keeping her hospitalized on an outpatient basis. Brown, helped by her sympathetic and ultra-competent pediatrician, decides on another path -- Family-Based Treatment, or the Maudsley approach. This entails the support of the entire family, and their goal is to get Kitty to eat, whatever it takes. This is much, much harder than it sounds. At times, Brown writes of anorexia as a demon that has inhabited her daughter; she tries desperately to take her daughter's aggressive anxiety and separate it from the daughter she loves so much and whose life she actually saves. Yes, saves -- this painful and wretched ordeal, calorie by calorie, saves Kitty's life, and gradually she begins to emerge whole again.
As a mother, I cried for Harriet Brown as I read her book, because (although I pray that I will never be tested) any mother should hope to do the right thing, as she did, even though it was so desperately hard. The FBT was hard on Brown, it was terrible for her husband, it was traumatic to Kitty's younger sister, and it almost completely shattered any semblance of normal family life. However, as a mother, she knew that this was her job, and that Kitty's mother, father, and sister were the ones to bring her back and rid her of the demon anorexia. Anorexia has cruel statistics -- close to 20 percent of anorexics die, according to Brown, half of those from suicide. Harriet Brown and her family continue to battle these statistics, as anorexia can be a lifetime disease, and they refuse to allow their child to become one of the 20 percent.
Gosh, what a downer. I'll get a bit more cheerful now, and introduce another new book that I read over the weekend. A Jane Austen Education: How Six Novels Taught Me About Love, Friendship, and the Things That Really Matter is pure fun for the Austen lover. One of the only negative things about Austen is that she wrote only six books, and Janeites who finish all six are left with a craving for more. This has led to a small industry in Austen copycats, mysteries featuring Austen characters (cringe), Austen sequels (gag), and Austen spoofs (actually, some of these aren't bad). This isn't one of the above list. This is the nonfictional account of William Deresiewicz, who started off his adult life as an immature, obnoxious pseudo-intellectual. Forced to read Austen in college, he slowly comes to the realization that it is not chick-lit, it is quite relevant, and it helps him gradually reorient himself and become, in a word, a mentsh. This is an entertaining and light read, and it has a lovely happy ending. What more could you ask?
What I know about anorexia is fairly limited -- it's taught in the Abnormal Psychology class that was a requirement; nowadays most schools try to educate their female students about eating disorders, but this was not something that was talked about -- not out loud -- when I was a teenager. It is also poorly understood; not just by the layman, but by experts as well. The theories I learned in college are no longer in vogue and have been replaced by a new set, perhaps more valid, perhaps not.
Harriet Brown pens this memoir of her experiences with her daughter, Kitty, with remarkable aplomb. What must have been a gut-wrenching experience for her comes through so remarkably and believably, the reader wants to reach through the pages and hug her. Once Brown comes to the realization that her daughter has this terrible illness, she casts around for ways to help her. Her choices at the time boil down to sending her away to a specialized residential clinic, or keeping her hospitalized on an outpatient basis. Brown, helped by her sympathetic and ultra-competent pediatrician, decides on another path -- Family-Based Treatment, or the Maudsley approach. This entails the support of the entire family, and their goal is to get Kitty to eat, whatever it takes. This is much, much harder than it sounds. At times, Brown writes of anorexia as a demon that has inhabited her daughter; she tries desperately to take her daughter's aggressive anxiety and separate it from the daughter she loves so much and whose life she actually saves. Yes, saves -- this painful and wretched ordeal, calorie by calorie, saves Kitty's life, and gradually she begins to emerge whole again.
As a mother, I cried for Harriet Brown as I read her book, because (although I pray that I will never be tested) any mother should hope to do the right thing, as she did, even though it was so desperately hard. The FBT was hard on Brown, it was terrible for her husband, it was traumatic to Kitty's younger sister, and it almost completely shattered any semblance of normal family life. However, as a mother, she knew that this was her job, and that Kitty's mother, father, and sister were the ones to bring her back and rid her of the demon anorexia. Anorexia has cruel statistics -- close to 20 percent of anorexics die, according to Brown, half of those from suicide. Harriet Brown and her family continue to battle these statistics, as anorexia can be a lifetime disease, and they refuse to allow their child to become one of the 20 percent.
Gosh, what a downer. I'll get a bit more cheerful now, and introduce another new book that I read over the weekend. A Jane Austen Education: How Six Novels Taught Me About Love, Friendship, and the Things That Really Matter is pure fun for the Austen lover. One of the only negative things about Austen is that she wrote only six books, and Janeites who finish all six are left with a craving for more. This has led to a small industry in Austen copycats, mysteries featuring Austen characters (cringe), Austen sequels (gag), and Austen spoofs (actually, some of these aren't bad). This isn't one of the above list. This is the nonfictional account of William Deresiewicz, who started off his adult life as an immature, obnoxious pseudo-intellectual. Forced to read Austen in college, he slowly comes to the realization that it is not chick-lit, it is quite relevant, and it helps him gradually reorient himself and become, in a word, a mentsh. This is an entertaining and light read, and it has a lovely happy ending. What more could you ask?
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother
Given the amount of media attention this memoir has garnered, I've decided to give Amy Chua's memoir of raising her two daughters its own post. If anything, the hullabaloo over this book has shown me how ridiculously unreliable book reviews and commentary can be when confused with a journalist's personal agenda.
From what I can see, most of the reviews of this book are shocked, shocked to hear a mother crowing over her coercion and borderline abusive behavior. Ms. Chua forces her daughters to practice their respective instruments for hours each day, (gasp!) refuses to accept a grade lower than A (unless it's in gym), rejects her daughters' pathetic birthday cards, and mocks the tendency of Western parents to allow their children to follow their passions (whether it be soccer or Facebook for fourteen hours a day). All this is done in the spirit of being a Chinese parent, because this is how Chinese parents do it, and it's far better than how you sloppy Americans parent. So there! says Chua. Goodness, how dreadful, I thought. And then my local library came through with the book, and I finally read it for myself.
Now let's rewind a little -- this book is not meant to be taken quite as literally as most of the media has apparently taken it. Part parody, part confessional, part memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is the story of a very driven and extremely controlling woman who happens to be Chinese. (Incidentally, her husband is Jewish). It seems to me that this book is more about how this woman, whose tough parenting methods worked beautifully with her talented and self-motivated elder daughter, hits a brick wall with her younger daughter. Sophia, the firstborn, takes to her instrument (piano) like a fish to water and thrives on the pressure as it intensifies. However, the younger daughter, Lulu, is a lot more like her mother. Perhaps even more gifted than her sister, Lulu is given violin lessons and shows great talent. However, Lulu doesn't allow herself to be pushed around, and the book features episode after episode in which parent and child lock horns. Lulu is a driven as her mother, and as set on being successful and high-achieving, but she wants to drive the bus. I don't want to give away too much, as this book is a really fun read (as are the photos, which generally feature Chua, arms folded, hovering threateningly over daughter and instrument), but I don't really understand why readers come away with a feeling of loathing for her. After reading her book, I felt a bit sorry for her, but I also was satisfied with the way she accepts her limitations as a parent and learns to adjust herself a bit.
Really, this book is not about how Chinese parenting is better than Western parenting, and Chua admits as much (though she states that it was supposed to be about that). It's about an individual family, and their parenting, and the successes and shortcomings of their parenting. However, there is quite a bit of constructive takehome lesson here.
From what I can see, most of the reviews of this book are shocked, shocked to hear a mother crowing over her coercion and borderline abusive behavior. Ms. Chua forces her daughters to practice their respective instruments for hours each day, (gasp!) refuses to accept a grade lower than A (unless it's in gym), rejects her daughters' pathetic birthday cards, and mocks the tendency of Western parents to allow their children to follow their passions (whether it be soccer or Facebook for fourteen hours a day). All this is done in the spirit of being a Chinese parent, because this is how Chinese parents do it, and it's far better than how you sloppy Americans parent. So there! says Chua. Goodness, how dreadful, I thought. And then my local library came through with the book, and I finally read it for myself.
Now let's rewind a little -- this book is not meant to be taken quite as literally as most of the media has apparently taken it. Part parody, part confessional, part memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is the story of a very driven and extremely controlling woman who happens to be Chinese. (Incidentally, her husband is Jewish). It seems to me that this book is more about how this woman, whose tough parenting methods worked beautifully with her talented and self-motivated elder daughter, hits a brick wall with her younger daughter. Sophia, the firstborn, takes to her instrument (piano) like a fish to water and thrives on the pressure as it intensifies. However, the younger daughter, Lulu, is a lot more like her mother. Perhaps even more gifted than her sister, Lulu is given violin lessons and shows great talent. However, Lulu doesn't allow herself to be pushed around, and the book features episode after episode in which parent and child lock horns. Lulu is a driven as her mother, and as set on being successful and high-achieving, but she wants to drive the bus. I don't want to give away too much, as this book is a really fun read (as are the photos, which generally feature Chua, arms folded, hovering threateningly over daughter and instrument), but I don't really understand why readers come away with a feeling of loathing for her. After reading her book, I felt a bit sorry for her, but I also was satisfied with the way she accepts her limitations as a parent and learns to adjust herself a bit.
Really, this book is not about how Chinese parenting is better than Western parenting, and Chua admits as much (though she states that it was supposed to be about that). It's about an individual family, and their parenting, and the successes and shortcomings of their parenting. However, there is quite a bit of constructive takehome lesson here.
- "For Chinese people, when it comes to parents, nothing is negotiable. Your parents are your parents, you owe everything to them (even if you don't), and you have to do everything for them (even if it destroys your life)." Extreme statement, perhaps, but the essence of this is something I could get behind. Chua doesn't simply pay lip service to this -- when her mother-in-law is too ill to live alone, Chua insists that she move in with them, even though the two do not really get along well.
- "The Chinese model turns on achieving success. That's how the virtuous circle of confidence, hard work, and more success is generated."
- It helps a lot if your children know exactly what you expect from them -- if you're providing them with the tools to achieve it.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Chick Lit!
When you see these on the library shelf or the bookstore display, they're easy to pick out: the covers are usually in varied candy-colored shades, a caricatured mom is prominently featured (usually with great hair), and the titles are catchy, if not terse. This is the whole new genre of chick lit, literature for tired women who want to escape to the world of someone who has it harder than they do, even though the fictional woman is guaranteed a happy ending.
I Don't Know How She Does It epitomizes chick lit to me, if only because it was the first book of this kind that I ever read. By Allison Pearson, it was ragingly popular when it came out, and is soon to be adapted as a movie (of course). It's the story of Kate Reddy, an English career woman who -- literally -- juggles a superheated job, a husband, and two children. Oh, and a very spoiled nanny, an overindulged cleaning woman, and the need to pretend she can handle preparing homemade baked goods for school events. Although it's exaggerated to a great extent, it's amusing in the way that only a realistic story can be -- If you have a family as well as a life, you'll see that there's a bit of Kate Reddy in all of us. As the book draws to a close, Kate has to make tough choices about the way she lives her life. I didn't really expect it to end the way it did, but I enjoyed this book tremendously.
Lauren Weisberger, best known for her book (and movie adaptation) The Devil Wears Prada, has recently come out with another book which I liked much better. Last Night At Chateau Marmont is a book that, sadly, seems practically written with the movie version in mind, but is a great story to read on the beach, in the tub, or on the plane. It follows a period in the life of a couple, Brooke and Julian Alter, when Julian's slowly simmering music career suddenly comes to a boil. Predictably, their relationship has a very hard time dealing with the series of catapulting changes his fame brings to both of them. I liked this book -- you don't have to think too hard; it's a great book to read when you're really zonked but you want some undemanding entertainment.
For those of you who like Bridget Jones's Diary, by Helen Fielding, I have to tell you that she previously wrote a much better book, which didn't seem to ride the wave of Bridget Jones fame. Cause Celeb is the story of Rosie Richardson, who goes to Africa to do something meaningful, as well as escape her life as a hanger-on of famous people. In the fictitious country of Nambula, she finds her work with refugees rewarding until a locust plague strikes and promised aid does not arrive. Tapping into her connections, Rosie rallies all the celebrities she knows to raise funds for the refugees. Of course, there's a love triangle involved. I will say no more.
A new book (I just read it last week) Emily and Einstein, features a husband who dies suddenly and comes back in the guise of a dog adopted by his wife. Linda Francis Lee writes this story which so easily could have degenerated into a weird version of Ghost, but does not, thankfully. It's meant to be a tale of atonement and redemption (for the lousy no-good husband turned dog) but also manages to be amusing and touching at the same time.
The Secret Lives of Dresses (also new) is for you clothes-minded ladies -- if you just love it when books go into great detail on what everyone is wearing, this one's definitely for you. Erin McKean tells this story of a woman returning to her hometown when her grandmother has a serious stroke in order to take over the running of Mimi's, her gran's boutique. Yes, there's a guy involved. Actually, more than one. Oh, and there's someone plotting in the background.
A column on chick lit cannot fail to tip its metaphorical hat to the mother of it all -- Jane Austen. Yes, I know all you classic-phobes are rolling your eyes now, but it's true! The language may be (a lot) more polished, but all the other ingredients are the same -- unrequited love, boredom, adultery, cads, and silly women who are into clothing. If you've never tried it, I dare you. At least watch the movies!
I Don't Know How She Does It epitomizes chick lit to me, if only because it was the first book of this kind that I ever read. By Allison Pearson, it was ragingly popular when it came out, and is soon to be adapted as a movie (of course). It's the story of Kate Reddy, an English career woman who -- literally -- juggles a superheated job, a husband, and two children. Oh, and a very spoiled nanny, an overindulged cleaning woman, and the need to pretend she can handle preparing homemade baked goods for school events. Although it's exaggerated to a great extent, it's amusing in the way that only a realistic story can be -- If you have a family as well as a life, you'll see that there's a bit of Kate Reddy in all of us. As the book draws to a close, Kate has to make tough choices about the way she lives her life. I didn't really expect it to end the way it did, but I enjoyed this book tremendously.
Lauren Weisberger, best known for her book (and movie adaptation) The Devil Wears Prada, has recently come out with another book which I liked much better. Last Night At Chateau Marmont is a book that, sadly, seems practically written with the movie version in mind, but is a great story to read on the beach, in the tub, or on the plane. It follows a period in the life of a couple, Brooke and Julian Alter, when Julian's slowly simmering music career suddenly comes to a boil. Predictably, their relationship has a very hard time dealing with the series of catapulting changes his fame brings to both of them. I liked this book -- you don't have to think too hard; it's a great book to read when you're really zonked but you want some undemanding entertainment.
For those of you who like Bridget Jones's Diary, by Helen Fielding, I have to tell you that she previously wrote a much better book, which didn't seem to ride the wave of Bridget Jones fame. Cause Celeb is the story of Rosie Richardson, who goes to Africa to do something meaningful, as well as escape her life as a hanger-on of famous people. In the fictitious country of Nambula, she finds her work with refugees rewarding until a locust plague strikes and promised aid does not arrive. Tapping into her connections, Rosie rallies all the celebrities she knows to raise funds for the refugees. Of course, there's a love triangle involved. I will say no more.
A new book (I just read it last week) Emily and Einstein, features a husband who dies suddenly and comes back in the guise of a dog adopted by his wife. Linda Francis Lee writes this story which so easily could have degenerated into a weird version of Ghost, but does not, thankfully. It's meant to be a tale of atonement and redemption (for the lousy no-good husband turned dog) but also manages to be amusing and touching at the same time.
The Secret Lives of Dresses (also new) is for you clothes-minded ladies -- if you just love it when books go into great detail on what everyone is wearing, this one's definitely for you. Erin McKean tells this story of a woman returning to her hometown when her grandmother has a serious stroke in order to take over the running of Mimi's, her gran's boutique. Yes, there's a guy involved. Actually, more than one. Oh, and there's someone plotting in the background.
A column on chick lit cannot fail to tip its metaphorical hat to the mother of it all -- Jane Austen. Yes, I know all you classic-phobes are rolling your eyes now, but it's true! The language may be (a lot) more polished, but all the other ingredients are the same -- unrequited love, boredom, adultery, cads, and silly women who are into clothing. If you've never tried it, I dare you. At least watch the movies!
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