October Reading Wrapup

October was an interesting reading month for me.  I started off the first week or so reading absolutely nothing.  Then, I got my book-footing and read a whole bunch.  In total, I read 9 books in October.

The Art of Failing, by Anthony McGowan (read as an ebook) - A humorous glance into daily life in West Hampstead, London, with the author, Anthony McGowan.  Structured as a diary and organized by season, there are daily-ish entries outlining something humorous/bizarre/unexpected that happened to the author that day, or at least a noteworthy observation.

The Circle Game, by Margaret Atwood - Published in 1964, this is Margaret Atwood's first commercially-published poetry collection and it explores womanhood, colonialism and indigenous peoples, environmentalism, and many other topics.

Madwoman, by Shara McCallum - In this powerful collection of poems, Shara McCallum calls upon folklore and traditions from her native Jamaica as well as modern day experiences and microaggressions.  There is clear, strong feminism that permeates throughout the work, that grabs the reader from the beginning.  The author plays with language in very deliberate ways, interplaying rhyme, free verse, patois, and lots of symbolism.

A Year in Provence, by Peter Mayle - When Peter and his wife move from their home in Devon, England to the South of France, it is a culture shock to say the least.  They learn that time is thought of in seasons rather than hours or days, good food and wine are vital, and construction projects where the contractor uses the phrase "Normally..." are not going to be completed anytime soon.

Candide, by Voltaire - In the early eighteenth century, Gottfried Leibniz published his Theodicy, in which he purported that the world we're living in is the best of all possible worlds, because it was created by God.  No matter the suffering, violence, poverty - it is the best world.  This worldview is commonly called "philosophical optimism", and Voltaire disagreed vehemently with it.  He wrote Candide as a satirical take-down of Leibniz's approach, as well as many of the literary traditions of the time

The Diamond as Big as the Ritz, by F. Scott Fitzgerald - In this strange little novella, published in 1922, John T. Unger leaves his well-to-do family in Hades, Mississippi to attend a prestigious men's boarding school in Boston.  While there, he befriends a fellow student named Percy Washington.  John knows that Percy, a keep-to-himself kind of guy, is very wealthy, but he has no idea just how right he is until he is invited to summer with Percy at his family's home in Montana. 

Lord of the Flies, by William Golding - I appreciate the plot of this story (plane crashes on deserted island and only a group of schoolboys survives and has to forge its own society) but I take great offense to the choices in gender and overall characterization, as well as the use of the term "savage" as the author chose to employ them.  I would love to see (if there isn't already one out there...let me know if there is!) a modern interpretation of this book, where the cast of characters show more diversity and sensitivity.

Horrorstor, by Grady Hendrix (read as an ebook) - When an Ikea-esque store called "Orsk" begins experiencing strange phenomena, manager Basil recruits two of his employees, Amy and Ruth Ann, to work a covert, overnight shift to figure out exactly what is going on.  But what is going on is so much more than anyone had bargained for.

The Five Children and It, by E. Nesbit - The story features four elementary school-aged siblings - Cyril, Anthea, Robert, and Jane - and their infant brother Hilary during a summer spent in Kent.  During playtime at a gravel quarry, they uncover a sand-fairy who offers to grant them one wish every day.  Whatever they wish for will last for only that day; when the sun sets everything will go back to the way it was before.  They wish for things as children would, which is to say naively.


Now that we're almost into November, it's time to start thinking about all the non-fiction that I want to read during the annual Non-Fiction November challenge.  Stay tuned for more details on that...



Librorum annis,

An Autumnal Book Haul

Sorry for the delay, but I've managed to "accidentally" buy a few books.  Whoops!  Between a BookOutlet sale, the recent Harrisburg Book Festival, and an ARC, I've managed to add some new books to my shelves.  Poetry, short stories, fiction, essays, a play, memoir, some non-fiction, and a collection of lectures round out this particular incoming class. 

As always, I'm really excited to read them soon, but in reality I probably won't get to them anytime soon.  I'm still trying to read through some of my 2017 challenges, and I'm afraid those will take priority in the waning months of the year.  There's always next year, right?  Anywho, here are the newbs:

Poetry

The Sobbing School, by Joshua Bennett - A collection focusing on the experience of being a black man in America, especially an academically-minded man in a society that doesn't encourage men like him to pursue such goals.

Cannibal, by Safiya Sinclair - The poet's Jamaican upbringing is explored within the context of living in America, and all the prejudices and preconceptions that American culture assigns to women of color.

Miami Century Fox, by Legna Rodriguez Iglesias (translated by Eduardo Aparicio) - A collection of Latina poetry, unique in that the original Spanish poem is on one side of the page, and the translator's English translation is on the other.  It explores the complexities of modern day life in South Florida.

Short Stories

Barbara the Slut and Other People, by Lauren Holmes - I read this book a year or so ago, checked out from the library.  I enjoyed it, and when BookOutlet had it on sale for less than $4, I couldn't turn it down.  The stories feature diverse female (and golden retriever) characters and situations, but that speak to the universality of our experience.

Public Library and Other Stories, by Ali Smith - A collection of stories focusing on books,  experiences of reading, and what books mean to us.

Fiction

Main Street, by Sinclair Lewis - A takedown of the American ideal of the open-minded, small town.  In the American political landscape, the "small town" is a microcosm that campaigning politicians love to talk about, but rarely understand.  Published originally in 1920, I expect this book to be just as relevant now as it was then.

Baba Dunja's Last Love, by Alina Bronsky - The title character, and many of her neighbors, decide to return to their home near Chernobyl, despite government warnings about radiation.  They return to a semblance of normal life, until a stranger and a young girl arrive and turn everything on its head.

Essays

Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living, edited by Manjula Martin - A number of well-known authors honestly discuss the realities of working as a writer and what it takes to be able to do your work and be able to live comfortably.

Common Sense, by Thomas Paine - An anti-monarchy essay that isn't so far away from the political landscape in which we find ourselves today.

Bad Feminist, by Roxane Gay - This reissue of Gay's classic essay collection was too good to pass up

How to Cook a Wolf, by M.F.K. Fisher - Written for an audience facing food shortages and rationing during WW2, the ethos of this book is cooking simply using ingredients you already have and a lot of imagination and adventure.  There are recipes to accompany the essays within.

Play

Fences, by August Wilson - Troy Maxson has lived his life in an America that crushes the soul of black men who express their pride.  As the repressive society of the 1950s moves into the more liberating 1960s, Troy finds himself at odds with his culture, his neighbors, his family, and himself.  This was recently released as a movie starring Denzel Washington and Viola Davis, which I hope to see once I've read the play.

Memoir

How to Be a Woman, by Caitlin Moran - The author's recollection of growing up in lower-class British small town, and discovering herself.

Non-Fiction

Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi - I've already read (and LOVED!) this challenging and necessary work.  Check out my review here.

Lectures

The Origin of Others, by Toni Morrison - Toni Morrison delivered lectures as part of the Charles Eliot Norton series at Harvard University, and drew up on them to write this small-but-mighty book.



And that's it for this book haul!  I have no idea when I'll get to read any of these books, but I hope it to be sometime soon. Winter is coming, and there'll hopefully be a some cold weekends where I can bundle up and have my own mini-readathons.



Librorum annis,

The "Finally Fall" Book Tag

Now that we're almost a full month into autumn, the weather in my area is finally starting to accurately reflect the season.  This time last month, it felt more like midsummer (highs in the low 90's F and very humid) and I am so excited for the cool-down.  That's why I was so pleased to find the "Finally Fall" book tag, because it does finally feel like fall.  Let's get to it, shall we?

In autumn, the air is crisp and clear.  Name a book with a vivid setting.

I read Swimming Lessons by Claire Fuller this summer, and was completely engrossed in the British seaside town that played host to the events in the novel.  In fact, there were times where I could almost taste the salty air and feel the mists on my skin, even though I live hours away from any such coastline.  It was a transformative reading experience, to say the least.

Nature is beautiful...but also dying.  Name a book that is beautifully written but also deals with a heavy topic like loss or grief.

I believe that one the most exciting writers in American literature today is Jesmyn Ward.  All of her books are very hard-hitting, whether a memoir about losing men in her life to whom she was very close (Men We Reaped), the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina on the Gulf area (Salvage the Bones), or drug abuse and family ties (Sing, Unburied, Sing).  The way that she writes about these difficult themes and events is with such clarity, beauty, and hope that it's almost impossible to put her books down.

Autumn is back-to-school season.  Share a non-fiction book that taught you something new.

I just reviewed it here, but my most recent experience of reading a non-fiction book that totally refocused and  my worldview and gave me an education was Ibram X. Kendi's masterful work of scholarship, Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas In America.  In it, he tracks instances of racism from humanity's earliest encounters with diverse peoples, through to the modern day.  It'll challenge all your assumptions and expectations about how racist ideas exist and flourish, and may open your eyes to ways that you hold onto racist ideas - without even knowing it.

In order to keep warm, it's good to spend some time with the people we love.  Name a fictional family/household/friend-group of which you'd like to be a part.

A few years ago, I might have chosen the March family from Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, because of how tight-knit and loving they were.  However, as my reading experiences have broadened and changed, I think I would be less enthralled with being a Little Woman.  Instead, I'd prefer something a little more messy and interesting.  In fact, I think I'd like to be a part of the Pea family, living on the island of Nollop and having to get bizarrely creative with language in Mark Dunn's Ella Minnow Pea. 

The colorful leaves are piling up on the ground.  Show us a pile of autumn-colored spines.

Autumn is the perfect time for storytelling by the fireside.  Share a book wherein someone is telling a story.

One of the most prolific stories-within-a-story is the tale that Elena tells of her long-lasting friendship with Lina in the Neapolitan Quartet, by Elena Ferrante.  The four-volume set, spanning almost 1700 pages, is the character of Elena writing the story of her friendship, in the wake of Lina's disappearance from Naples.  To tell this story around a fire, you'd need a forest's worth of wood to keep it going.  If you haven't read the novels yet - My Brilliant Friend, The Story of a New Name, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, and The Story of the Lost Child - don't let the page count frighten you.  If you allow yourself to relax and settle into Elena's writing, you'll fly through the books without even realizing it.

The nights are getting darker; share a dark, creepy read.

One of the creepiest books on my shelves is Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes.  It's a suspenseful, really intense novel about a serial killer, the cop who's trying to catch him, and a possibly-supernatural force.  It's really good to read, but it's even more intense if you listen on audiobook, because of the narration and the really compelling voices that the narrators use.

The days are getting colder; name a short, heartwarming read that could warm up somebody's cold and rainy day.

A truly heartwarming novella is Parnassus On Wheels by Christopher Morley.  A man wants to sell his mobile bookstore, called Parnassus, to a newly-famous author.  However, it's the author's spinster sister who sets out on a bookish adventure.  Sweet, charming, and full of book love.

Autumn returns every year.  Name an old, favorite book that you'd like to return to soon.

I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to get back to it, but I'd love to revisit the short stories of Mollie Panter-Downes.  I discovered her through my first ever visit to the Persephone Books bookshop when I was last in London, and she quickly became one of my favorite authors.  I especially loved her collection of stories illustrating the British societal changes after the end of WW2, called Minnie's Room: The Peacetime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes. 

Autumn is the perfect time for cozy reading nights.  Share your favorite cozy reading "accessories".

I can't have a cozy reading night without a blanket and a beverage. 



That's it for the "Finally Fall" book tag.  I'm fully invested in autumnal reading, and had a blast answering these questions.  If you're interested in doing so, consider yourself tagged.



Librorum annis,

The Harrisburg Book Festival - A Recap

October 12-15 was the 5th annual Harrisburg Book Festival.  After having to travel to Philly or DC for bookish events, it was exciting to have such a grand bookish celebration right in my proverbial backyard.  Midtown Scholar Bookstore organized and played host to the entire Festival, which was no small undertaking.  A few months in advance, they started releasing social media teasers of what events to look forward to, and it was all very exciting - some nationally-recognized and award-winning authors as well as local literary denizens.  When the full schedule was released, it was very exciting - a weekend full of presentations, conversations, and interactive events.  I marked my calendar, and took part in as much of the festival as I could.

Opening Night

The opening night of the Festival was devoted to music and poetry.  Local musician Shawan Rice played a set, and her soulful, bluesy voice truly set the tone for the rest of the evening.  There were three poets in attendance this evening, and all three read extensively from their published collections.

The first reader was Shara McCallum, Penn State professor of English and Liberal Arts, who shared poems from her collection Madwoman.  Her homeland of Jamaica and her coming-of-age in the US feature heavily in the poems, as do her experiences as a light-skinned black woman in the Western world.  Joshua Bennett was next, and he read poems from The Sobbing School.  The recent Princeton University PhD graduate and postdoctoral fellow at MIT had by far the most engaging and enthusiastic style of reading.  His words flowed deftly from humor to anger and sadness, and took the audience along with him.  More than just myself got a little emotional from time to time during his reading.  The final poet was Safiya Sinclair, whose collection Cannibal has won numerous awards.  She also drew upon her Jamaican upbringing and experiences in the US for her poetry.  Especially exciting were some not-yet-published poems that she chose to read at the end of the evening - one of which was written as a palindrome.  Shawan Rice returned to the stage to wrap up the evening, and the poets signed copies of their books.  It was an inspirational, emotional, and wonderful beginning to the weekend.

Keynote

In one of the most exciting turns of the entire Festival, Dr. Ibram X. Kendi was revealed to be the keynote speaker.  An exten and the Founding Director of the Antiracist Research and Policy Center, both at American University, Dr. Kendi is the author of the groundbreaking 2016 National Book Award winning nonfiction book Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America.  I absolutely loved the book, and you can check out some of my feelings here.  Takeaways - Read. This. Book. Now.

After a warm introduction by Harrisburg Mayor Eric Papenfuse, Dr. Kendi gave a powerful and inspirational presentation.  He talked about how he came to write his book, the importance of this kind of work in our modern era, and read a bit from Stamped from the Beginning.  Afterward, the floor was opened to the audience for a Q&A session, followed by a signing.  It was really thrilling to spend the evening with an author and academic of his brilliance, and to hear about his work directly from himself.  It truly was an honor.

KidsFest!

In the morning on Saturday was a block of programming geared exclusively toward younger readers.  A local theater troop was putting on a special performance of Aesop's Fables, children's book authors were having storytime and signing books, there were arts and crafts activities for older kids, and - most exciting of all - there was a large selection of free, brand new books that children could take home with them to read.  As I don't have any little ones in my life (and I like to sleep in on the weekends whenever possible) I didn't partake of any of the KidsFest, but it sounded like a lot of fun!

Book Critics Roundtable

The only event I was able to attend on Saturday was a roundtable discussion between four renowned book critics - Bethanne Patrick, Susan Coll, Marion Winik, and moderated by Harvey Freedenberg.  They have been published in digital and print publications including Kirkus Review, Lit Hub, NY Times Review of Books, and many more.  Some of the panelists have been (or are currently) NPR and local radio contributors.  They have all been in the book industry for a long time, and had interesting perspectives on the art, science, and business of reviewing books.  

This panel was, unfortunately, the only one I could attend on Saturday, but I was really glad that I could be there.  As someone who is a casual book reviewer, it was fascinating to hear the contributors talk about what life is like as a professional reviewer of books.  For example, a book review doesn't pay that much (maybe $200), so if you're considering becoming a professional reviewer, be aware that you probably will need a day job or some other source of income. 

They began the discussion by talking about the purpose of book reviews, and what they should accomplish.  The purpose is twofold: 1. Interest general readers in a book/influence sales, and 2. Become part of the larger cultural conversation in which the author and the book function.  They all agreed that, when being critical of a book, it's important to meet the book on its own terms, rather than what the reviewer wanted the book to be.  In other words, don't blame the author for not achieving what she/he did not set out to do.  They also discussed the role of negative criticism and how they handle giving a book a poor review.  Some of the panelists had published books, so they could talk about reviewing from the perspective of the one doing the reviewing, and the one who wrote the work that is being reviewed. 

At the end of the discussion, each of the panelists listed two books that they were really excited about in 2017.  Harvey Freedenberg recommended Exit West by Mohsin Hamid, and The Mountain by Paul Yoon.  Susan Coll recommended Impossible Views of the World by Lucy Ives and The Book of Separation by Tova Mirvis.  Bethanne Patrick recommended Home Fires by Kamila Shamsie, and Based On a True Story by Delphine de Vigan.  Finally, Marion Winik recommended Young Jane Young by Gabrielle Zevin and Theft By Finding by David Sedaris.  Some of these I have read, some are on my shelves, and some I had never heard of, so I'd consider it an interesting mix.  The discussion on book reviewing was generally thoughtful and insightful, but it is worth noting that all of the panelists were white.  As they were talking, I wondered what the discussion would and could have been like had there been more diversity on the panel.

Creativity, Inspiration, and Novels

Bethanne Patrick stuck around for the next panel, talking about the roles of creativity and inspiration in the writing process with The Atlantic's Joe Fassler.  After that, authors Jennifer Haigh and Liz Moore took to stage to discuss their novels, Heat & Light and The Unseen World.  I was sad to be unable to attend either of these events, because they sounded like they would be engaging and thought-provoking discussions.

The Finale

Sunday, the last day of the Harrisburg Book Festival, featured three presentations about three really interesting books.  Elizabeth Wein was a Harrisburg native who moved to Scotland, and wrote her historical novel The Pearl Thief which features a Scottish influence.  Damion Searls explored the world of Rorschach inkblot tests in his nonfiction tome The Power of Seeing: Rorschach, the Inkblots, and the Enduring Relevance of the Iconic Test.  Finally, to close out the weekend, Ruth Franklin discussed her biography of the novelist Shirley Jackson, diving into aspects of her life not commonly known, called Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life.  Sadly, I was unable to attend any of Sunday's events; I was really unhappy to have missed Ruth Franklin's presentation, because of my deep love of Shirley Jackson.  I intend to check out her book very soon.

Afterwords

Although I wasn't able to go to every single event, I had a wonderful time partaking in the Harrisburg Book Festival.  The variety of activities, panels, and presentations was thoughtful and inclusive.  A night completely devoted to poetry was refreshing, and the selection of poets was stellar.  The keynote was absolutely relevant, not only to the local community but to society at large.  I'd say that the 2017 Harrisburg Book Festival was a huge success.  I'm already looking forward to 2018!



Librorum annis,

Stamped From the Beginning

What Ibram X. Kendi accomplishes in Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America is threefold: To present a biography of worldwide racism and its associated ideas from the earliest recorded history; to thoroughly and systematically demonstrate how those ideas have invaded all levels of American social, political, and cultural spheres; and to illustrate the disastrous consequences of those racist ideas.  Throughout the history of racist ideas, Kendi masterfully weaves in the perspectives of five prominent black figures throughout history, including W.E.B. DuBois and Angela Y. Davis, acting as tour guides for the reader from the early 1600's into the early moments of the presidency of Barack Obama. 

Kendi presents there as being three sides to any perspective on race: Assimilation, segregation, and anti-racism.  Assimilationists believe that non-whites would be better off if they just became more like white people in their appearance, behaviors, beliefs, and so on.  Segregationists want to separate non-white people from the rest of white society.  Subscribers to either of these two perspectives inherently believe that non-white people are inherently lesser than white people, and need the benevolence of white society to improve them.  The anti-racist perspective holds that there are no inherent differences between white folk and non-white folk, and that they should be treated in complete equality; any differences are entirely a product of the racist policies and beliefs that have been imposed on non-white people by those in power (who are not always 100% white people). 

In fact, Kendi reveals that there is a long history of racist ideas being internalized by non-whites and then leveled back on their own people.  This makes racism a very complicated issue to try and untwin from the history and identity of America itself.  In each of the five "tour guides" who lead us through the history of racist ideas, as well as the many philosophers/writers/activists/politicians/etc., the author is unafraid to expose the racist ideas that they themselves believed.  There are some true surprises, including that some black figures, whom are generally regarded as non-racists, in fact internalized and spread horrible racist ideas.  In the introduction, Kendi, himself, admits to harboring racist ideas as he researched Stamped from the Beginning.  As I was reading the book, I recognized a few positions that I could recall myself or friends/family espousing.  The desire for people of all classes to want to have someone to look down on, therefore uplifting themselves (whether only in their imaginations or not), is a pervasive and highly damaging aspect of American society. 

Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America is a groundbreaking work of scholarship and social criticism.  The author's exploration of racist ideas, and how they function in partnership with discrimination, will hopefully open eyes, minds, and hearts to how America has become the highly racially charged nation that it is today.  With this information, hopefully the readership will be inspired to make positive changes in their own spheres and the larger American culture to inform about the nonsense that racist ideas truly are, and to move toward empathy and equality.

The Art of Failing: Notes from the Underdog by Anthony McGowan

The Art of Failing is a humorous glance into daily life in West Hampstead, London, with the author, Anthony McGowan.  Structured as a diary and organized by season, there are daily-ish entries outlining something humorous/bizarre/unexpected that happened to the author that day, or at least a noteworthy observation.  Sometimes it's a mundane activity where the author has an awkward encounter, other times it's something monumental.  It's the author's employment of sarcastic and neurotic internal monologue mixed with his dry wit that makes The Art of Failing highly entertaining to read.

In one entry, dated September 6th, the author is working on a writing project in a reading room of the British Library. Possible titles for his new book are "The Constituents of Glass, The Deaf and Dumb Sex Machine, Handlebar, Nigel's Adventures in Nymphland" so you can tell he's got the beginnings of a winning story. The library has a strict no-food policy, but McGowan sneaks a banana in with him for a snack. He talks about his banana-neutral feelings up until that point, but it became a symbol of the progress he was making in his writing, even if that progress was just coming up with more book titles.  It was a well-deserved break, and he now relished that banana.  He also relished the act of writing on the banana with a ballpoint pen, because of how the pressure allows the pen to sink into the peel in a satisfying way. 

On this particular day, he was in the reading room as normal when he felt an oncoming sneeze.  In a hurry to empty his pockets, to locate his handkerchief, he absentmindedly set the banana on the table near to the man seated beside him, working.  Just as he located the handkerchief, his urge to sneeze subsided.  The man next to McGowan gave him a strange look, "an extreme wariness bordering on hostility", and that's when the author looked down at the banana on the table between them.  That day, he had written "I love you" on its peel, because that piece of fruit had become a central figure in his daily work life.  However, the stranger beside him assumed that the message on the banana was for him, and reacted as you might react if a strange man put a "banana love bomb" in your general direction.  At this embarrassment, McGowan packed up his things and resolved to work in a different reading room for the foreseeable future. 

Other entries involve encounters with possible-transsexuals at paint counters, musing on quantum physics via holey socks, and reading student reviews of his teaching courses.  There's a lot of diversity in the topics that he selects, so it never feels like you're reading about the same things over and over and over.  The strength of this book is its language; it's really the way that the author selects and employs his phrasing that makes the writing so good.

The narration has a strong neurotic and self-conscious vein, putting the author in good company with the characters on the TV show Seinfeld.  That was known as the "Show About Nothing", and I would argue that The Art of Failing could be a "Book About Nothing".  Further, McGowan's plentiful dry humor lends itself to close comparisons to David Sedaris' writing.  In particular, Sedaris' most recent book, Theft By Finding, was a collection of his diary entries for I suspect that, like Sedaris, the work would be lifted to a whole new level by listening it in audio...if it's narrated by the author.  There's something about humor authors that just enhance the whole experience, like taking a giggle to a belly-laugh. 

Overall, I really enjoyed spending time with Anthony McGowan and his West Hampstead escapades and awkward encounters.  His humor and self-consciousness play well within each story, and his wide variety of story topics keep the reading experience fresh.  Because many of the diary entries are a full page or less in length, it's an easy book to pick up and put down at will.  In fact, it would be great to keep by  your bedside to read before nodding off to sleep, or when waking up.  If you're a fan of the author David Sedaris, the TV show Seinfeld, or just humorous outlooks on life in general, you should check out The Art of Failing by Anthony McGowan.



Librorum annis,

We Wear the Mask: 15 True Stories of Passing in America

For those who don't experience it, the concept of "passing" might sound like a foreign concept.  Brando Skyhorse, editor and contributor of We Wear the Mask: 15 Stories of Passing in America, defines passing is "when someone tries to get something tangible to improve their daily quality of life by occupying a space meant for someone else".  But how does this work?

Perhaps you remember Rachel Dolezal, civil rights activist, graduate of a historically black university, instructor of Africana studies, and past president of the Spokane, WA chapter of the NAACP.  She was believed to be African-American because of her appearance: A lightly tanned skin color, voice, and dark textured hair.  In 2015, she applied to be appointed as the Chair of the Police Ombudsman Commission in Spokane, listing her ethnicity as multi, including "black".  During an investigation into her application, it was discovered that she was not African-American at all.  In fact, her ancestry was almost exclusively European for the past four centuries, as corroborated by her parents who admitted that she was a white woman passing as black.  Rachel Dolezal, who legally changed her name to Nkechi Amare Diallo in 2016, chose to pass as black, for reasons that have not been fully explained.  In We Wear the Mask, the reader learns of many other situations of passing, and the reasons why it was necessary for the writer to present her/himself as someone else.

Out of the 15 essays, there are three that I found particularly illustrative.  In the editor's essay, "College Application Essay #2", he ruminates on the college application process, and what ethnicity he should select on the application form and what he should write about for the essay portion.  Brando was born to Mexican parents, but after his father abandoned the family, when the author was a toddler, his mother reinvented herself as Native American - calling herself Running Deer Skyhorse, and Brando Ulloa became Brando Skyhorse.  He was raised as if he was from a Native American ancestry, and both he and his mother passed as Native American to those they encountered.  It wasn't until the author was 13 that he learned the truth of his background, and from then on he struggled with what racial group he identified and who he believed he was.

Patrick Rosal's essay is written in epistolary form, addressed to "Lady at Table 24".  He is a published poet and writer, and winner of the Asian American Studies Book Award, Global Filipino Literacy Award, the Asian American Writers Workshop Members' Choice Award, and a Fulbright scholarship.  Patrick was attending that year's National Book Awards ceremony to support some fellow writers, who were nominated. Dressed in the required black tie, enjoying the fine food and drink, he's having a grand time.  That is, until he is intercepted by an unknown woman, when he is on his way across the ballroom to speak to a friend.  This unknown woman, the "Lady at Table 24", blocks his path and for a second Patrick thinks he knows her from somewhere, because otherwise why would someone interrupt him?  That is, until she asks him for more napkins and silverware.  From this, the author reflects on how clothing can be used to identify people, to change people's identities, and how sometimes those things get mixed and muddled.  How you can wear an expensive suit, attend a fancy party, and still be confused for the help.

In a divergence from the deeply individualistic essays about passing in America, Dolen Perkins-Valdez presents a compelling essay about how America itself passes.  In "On Historical Passing and Erasure", the author argues that the USA, through the way it selectively idolizes historical figures, the history it chooses to teach to its students, and the ways in which it rewards its citizens,  it tries to pass as a democratic country that is truly devoted to "liberty and justice for all", not just a select few.

Other essays discuss religious passing - for example having Jewish heritage and surname, but none of the stereotypical physical markers that others identify with Jews, so that you are almost always treated as a gentile and have to explain why those antisemitic jokes aren't funny.  Other essays explore the complications of passing as a cis-gendered heterosexual, when you truly identify as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community.  There is a wealth of diverse experiences here, but they certainly do not compose the entirety of what it is like to pass in America.

I would highly recommend We Wear the Mask: 15 Stories of Passing in America, especially if you're interested in the concept of "passing", and what it's like from a personal perspective.  Each of the contributors offers a glimpse into what it is like to live in America, when your identity is in flux.  Who you are, and how you present yourself can be an easy choice, or it can be a lifelong struggle.  Whatever your experience, you will probably find some essays that will speak to you.



Librorum annis,

This & That Book Tag

As you know by now, I love a good book tag.  I really enjoy a chance to think about books in a new way, and tag questions encourage me to do just that.  Recently, I encountered the "This and That" book tag, via Booktuber

Which is your oldest book and your newest?

I wish I could say that I've saved a beloved book from my childhood, but sadly that isn't the case.  Between moves, storage space disasters, and outgrowing things, I don't have any books of old, emotional value.  The oldest (by publication date) books on my shelves are a two-volume set of The Life of Abraham Lincoln, written by Ida Tarbell.  These books were published in 1900, and were a very thoughtful gift from a family member.

As for newest books, there are quite a few 2017 releases on my shelves, but the newest is Five Carat Soul by James McBride, which was released on September 26, 2017.

Which is your biggest book (size, not page length) and the smallest?

Measuring at a whopping 2 1/4" thick, Haymarket Books' hardcopy, centennial re-release of Leon Trotsky's The History of the Russian Revolution is the biggest book on my shelves.  The smallest book is a thin collection of essays called Black Writers Redefine the Struggle: A Tribute to James Baldwin, edited by Jules Chametzky, just weighing coming in at 1/4" thick.

Which are the longest book you own and the shortest?

By pure page numbers, the longest single book on my shelves is the Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti, which tops out at 1312.  The shortest book is definitely Toni Morrison's The Nobel Lecture in Literature, at 40 pages.

Which is your most expensive book and which was the best bargain?

I'm such an omnivorous book purchaser, that it's hard to keep track (and I don't keep a record of dollar amounts spent on individual books - partly for my own sanity) of which books hurt my wallet the most.  So, I have absolutely no idea which of my books is the most expensive.  The biggest bargains are those books that I get at library book sales, where any book is usually between $1-3.  There are too many for me to select one to share here; I'd wager that at least 30% of my books came from library book sales.

What are, in your opinion, the most beautiful cover on your shelves and the ugliest?

I talked about pretty books not that long ago, and I chose the omnibus of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy as the most beautiful book.  However, as I've been thinking about it today, I think I'm going to pick the naked hardback Envelope Poems by Emily Dickinson, beautifully published by indie press New Directions.  It's a lovely light shade of blue, and seems more like an artifact than a book you'd find in the New Releases section of a bookstore.

I don't like calling a book cover ugly, because what "ugly" looks like can change radically from year to year.  A design that I don't care for in 2017 might have been really desirable when the book was published.  One exception to this are "movie/TV covers" for books, which I never think are particularly beautiful.  One example of this is my edition of Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly, which I picked up at a library book sale for $1.  Although the story and the movie on which it was based are beautiful, this tie-in cover is not my favorite.

What is your favorite book and what's one that you really disliked?

I couldn't possibly pick a single book that's my "favorite", but these five are among the ones I like best:

Beloved, by Toni Morrison
Moby-Dick or The Whale, by Herman Melville
Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston
The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte

I don't care for discussing books I really didn't like, so I'm going to skip the second part of this question.

Name a book that made you cry, and one that made you laugh.

The most recent book that made me shed tears was Hillary Rodham Clinton's memoir of the 2016 presidential election cycle, What Happened.  There were such evocative moments that took place just after the unbelievable results of the election; they brought me right back to the head-space I was in at that time, which brought forth tears now just as I experienced then.

As for laughter, I can always count on David Sedaris' wry observations and dark comedy to make me giggle.  My favorites of his collections are Me Talk Pretty One Day and Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim.

What book warmed your heart, and which one made you shiver?

There's an assertion, that I hear here and there throughout the bookish community, that there aren't any "happy" books being published anymore.  I disagree! I read and loved Robin Sloan's Sourdough last month, and I found it to be a heartwarming read about a young woman, a magical sourdough culture starter, and their journey of self-discovery through food and technology.  There's nothing especially sinister in the story, and it has quite a happy ending.

On the other end of the spectrum, the shiver-inducing books I've read recently are non-fiction accounts of the horrors that befall many Americans every day - racism, sexism, undue targeting by governmental and law enforcement officials, and bodily violence. Tears We Cannot Stop, by Michael Eric Dyson; Men We Reaped, by Jesmyn Ward; and Between the World and Me. by Ta-Nehisi Coates. They are scary because they are true.

What's one book you can't wait to read, and one that you've been putting off?

When I buy books, I'm always excited to get to reading them...until other new books compete for attention.  The exception is any book I borrow from my local libraries, which have an expiration date.  So, the one book I CANNOT wait to read is usually the one that I most recently added to my shelves, or the one that's due back to the library the soonest.  Right now, that is We Were Eight Years in Power by Ta-Nehisi Coates.

Recommend a book that you would like more people to read, and anti-recommend a book that wasn't as good as you expected.

In general, I'd love to see more people reading poetry.  Many of us have bad associations with poetry from studying it in school, and never go back to it later in life.  As a gateway between reading prose and poetry, I'd highly recommend Matthew Zapruder's Why Poetry.  You can check out my full review here, but it's a great resource to use if you're interested in reading poetry but aren't sure how to go about it.  Once you've read that, I have a few diverse poetry collections to recommend:

1. I Shall Not Be Moved, by Maya Angelou (easy to read structure but hard-hitting topics)
2. My Mother Was a Freedom Fighter, by Aja Monet (pertinent topics and lots of compelling imagery)
3. Cold Pastoral, by Rebecca Dunham (environmental poetry esp. human impact on the environment)
4. In Spite of Everything, by Curtis Robbins (deaf experience of living in the hearing world)
5. City Lights Pocket Poets Anthology, edited by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (huge collection of poems that were originally published by City Lights Publishers in San Francisco - heavy on the "Beat era")

As with previous question, I'm not going to down-talk a book, so there won't be any anti-recommendations here.

What is the next book you plan to acquire, and one that might be purged from your shelves soon?

I'm really excited for a book called Beyond the Rice Fields, written by Madagascan author Naivoharisoa Patrick Ramamonjisoa (pen name Naivo) which is being published in the US on October 31.  It's the very first Madagascar novel being published in English, and I'm hoping to pick up a copy on its release day.

I did a purge of my shelves a few months ago: Taking some books to my workplace lending library, some to a local library for its book sales, and others I sold to my local secondhand bookshop for store credit.  Therefore, I don't expect to get rid of any books for quite awhile.



And that's the "This & That" book tag!  If you're interested in answering these questions, consider yourself tagged!



Librorum annis,

5-Star Predictions: End-of-2017 Edition

There's a series of booktubers and bloggers who are sharing some books, that they plan to read in the near future, that the expect to LOVE.  They expect to not "like" these books, but wholeheartedly, thoroughly, and completely adore them.  For those of us who read prolifically (and also those of us who don't) it can be difficult to read something and have 5-star feelings about it.  Often, there's a plot that doesn't seem to live up to your expectations, a twist that you see coming a mile away, some inherent sexism/racism/"other"ing that is problematic, or a much-hyped book by which you're generally underwhelmed.

Even when readers have a wheelhouse of things they love, and a book is marketed/blurbed as containing all of those things, it can still let you down.  That's why, with trepidation, I'm listing a few books, which I hope to read in the last of 2017, and that I *hope* I will rate as 5-star reads.

Sing, Unburied, Sing, by Jesmyn Ward
I've absolutely devoured Ward's other works, which sit at the intersection of race and class in the modern American South.  Her latest novel is a story about Jojo, a mixed-race teenager, and his black mother who go on a road trip to retrieve his white father, who is being released from prison,

Slouching Towards Bethlehem, by Joan Didion
Although there are quite a few interesting pieces in this collection, I am most interested in the essay on the importance of keeping a notebook.  I've always loved stationary and notebooks, ever since I was a young child, and I'm looking forward to reading Didion's musings on the topic.

Eve Out of Her Ruins, by Ananda Devi
A Mauritian novel in translation, this story focuses on four young adults struggling against the violence and fear that pervades the Mauritius that tourists don't see.


Women, Race, and Class, by Angela Y. Davis
An intersectional feminist work from before the term "intersectional feminist" existed.


Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, by Ibram X. Kendi
In this time where there is so much fear, anger, mistrust, and "alternative facts" in the world, Kendi's book about the progression of racist thought throughout history is a welcomed read!

Look: Poems, by Solmaz Sharif
A poetry collection exploring the bizarreness of war, this collection includes words and phrases from an actual military document: The US Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms.  I look forward to reading how the poet melds these two forms into one.




Librorum annis,