Synchronicity and Extreme Climate Change

I rarely feel the need to finish one book before I review another, but since I'm always listening to one audiobook as I read another, I sometimes find uncanny connections.  Such was the case as I read Barbara Kingsolver's latest novel Flight Behavior as I was listening to Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker.  Kingsolver's novel, which has probably gotten more press than Walker's, is set in a rural area of Eastern Tennessee as millions of monarch butterflies have diverged from their usual migratory patterns, landing instead on the property of the protagonist Dellarobia Turnbow.

Frustrated by her life, twenty-eight with two children and a less-than-challenging marriage, the result of a high school pregnancy and shotgun wedding, Dellarobia discovers the miraculous sight, which appears, without her glasses, as if the trees are afire.  Because of family financial hardships, her father-in-law (Bear to her husband's Cub) plans to sell off the stand of timber to a logging company.  The members of the family's church see the butterflies as a miracle--and Dellarobia as the unlikely conduit of the miracle.  As the media gets wind of the story, people begin to come from everywhere to view the "King Billies," as Dellarobia's mother-in-law Hester calls them. The attention also draws Ovid Byron, a Harvard-educated professor specializing in the monarchs, to Feathertown to study the phenomenon.

Kingsolver manages to present the pull between science and religion without drawing fighting lines. She does weave in social commentary on the result of low educational standards.

Although I haven't researched to see, I would imagine that Age of Miracles might be considered Young Adult (YA) literature, since the narrator is a 12-year-old girl, in spite of a few so-called "adult" language or situations.  The story opens one morning when the top news story concerns what will eventually be known as "the slowing": for some inexplicable reason, the world has begun to turn more slowly, resulting in lengthening days.  At first the changes are slight, with minor consequences.  Schools wait until sunrise to announce school start times, for example. Eventually, though, as the change takes its toll on human life, major world leaders agree that everyone should return to "clock time," regardless of the light or darkness.

Eventually the change has more far-reaching effects. Like canaries in the mines, the birds are first to be affected.  Eventually, though, vegetation is harmed by abnormal light cycles, and sun exposure poses health risks.  Julia, the narrator, has to deal with this bizarre turn of events while navigating broken friendships, first love, parental marriage problems, and an aging grandfather.  When some people rebel and refuse to live on clock time, opting instead for "real time," the us-versus-them mentality sometimes becomes ugly.

The author never reveals a cause for the slowing, but the account of the far-reaching effects of small natural changes was handled brilliantly.  Walker also develops in her protagonist an engaging young girl capable of keeping the interest of much older readers.  Her realistic accounts of middle school dynamics ring true, accounting for as much of the plot interest as the slowing itself.

While the two books were otherwise quite different in style, plot, and theme, I enjoyed my vicarious foray into alternate worlds. I still look forward to a little literary escape in my next read.

Synchronicity and Extreme Climate Change

Orphan Master's Son

The last book I read in 2012 was also one of the most fascinating.  The book sat on my bookshelf for awhile--one of Lemuria Bookstore's First Editions Club selections.  Over and over, though, people kept recommending the book, so I took them at their word.

Adam Johnson's novel places readers in recent day North Korea--before the death of Kim Jong Il. The title character Pak Jun Do was raised among orphans by his father, the "orphan master," after his mother, a reputedly beautiful singer was taken away to the capital.  His status is no higher than the true orphans, so he is taken to work in the dark mines.  His ability to survive and even to excel working in the dark is significant throughout the novel.  Early on, it leads to his being moved to other positions, working for the North Korean government on a boat fronting as a fishing boat, kidnapping Japanese citizens. During the long hours he spends working on the ship, listening to his radio, he is fascinated by the story of two American women rowing around the world--one rowing in the day, the other at night.

Most disturbing throughout the story is the government's tendency to take people from whatever they are doing, giving them no option but to accept whatever assignment awaits.  Often when the official vehicle arrives, the citizens suspect they are being taken to their death.

Woven through the book, between accounts of Jun Do's experiences is the first person account of an official "biographer"--an idealistic young North Korean who records the stories of prisoners experiencing torture and eventual assassination.  Living in an upper-floor apartment with his blind parents, he seems to need to deceive himself to keep doing the job he does. Other chapters present the voice broadcasting into the loud speakers in every North Korean home, the constant stream of propaganda fed by the "Dear Leader" to his "Comrades."

The most fascinating turn comes when Jun Do is conscripted, because of his language skills, for an official trip to the United States--Texas, to be exact--to negotiate for the return of North Korean property.  While the visitors decide to interpret their experiences, once they return from the less-than-successful mission, as an exercise in humiliation (They were forced to eat with their bare hands--their spin on a good old fashion cookout), Jun Do encounters an American woman who makes a continued impact on his life.

Jun Do manages to use his unvoiced awareness of the need to maintain a good front, usually at the expense of the truth, allows him eventually to assume the identity of General Ga, a former hero, now out of favor with Kim Jung Il because of his arrogant unwillingness to bow, married to the foremost national actress.

Not only did I genuinely care about the characters, but I learned a lot along the way about a country that remains shrouded in mystery.

For more information about the author, check out the Lemuria blog: http://blog.lemuriabooks.com/2012/01/the-story-behind-the-pick-the-orphan-masters-son-by-adam-johnson/

Orphan Master's Son

Of all the books I read during the Christmas holidays, none has crawled inside my head like Carol Dweck's book Mindset. My sister told me about the book awhile back, and I finally got around to reading it. Now I keep wanting to recommend it to everyone.  I wish I'd read it when my own children were younger (although I think they have growth mindset traits.  As a teacher facing a new roster of students this coming Monday, I especially want to integrate what I learned into my teaching.

Dweck is a Ph.D. who has researched her topic deeply, but she used a readable style to write this book, not intending it for intellectuals and academics, but for ordinary people. The overall principle is simple:  People who follow a fixed mindset believe that abilities are limited.  They have a certain amount of intelligence; their abilities have limits. Once they reach that limit, it's necessary to protect one's image and self esteem at all costs.  Those with a growth mindset, however, believe that effort produces learning and growth.  And--in a true growth mindset--Dweck shows how one can change his or her own mindset and can influence the mindset of others.

One experiment she documents illustrates the principles.  Elementary ages children in two groups were given puzzles to complete. One group was told, upon completion, how smart they were to have finished the puzzle successfully. The other group was praised for their hard work in finishing the puzzle. As the puzzles grew increasingly difficult, the children in the first group didn't want to continue, assuming they'd reached the limit of their capabilities. The other children wanted more and harder puzzles, asking to bring them home and asking for information about obtaining similar puzzles of their own.

In the book, she applies this principle to sports, school, business, and personal relationships with many excellent examples. For example, she contrasts fixed mindset John McEnroe to growth mindset Tiger Woods and Bobby (Throw the Chair) Knight (guess which mindset) to John Wooden.  In the end of the book, she also presents scenarios to think through how to internalize the growth mindset and to encourage it in one's children--or students.

I am thinking of my own students--college freshmen usually, ranging from 17 to 67.  Many--especially some of the younger ones--are intent on taking the easy path.  Others--other older students coming to college for the first time, some after completing a GED, lack faith in their own intelligence.  My challenge this year will be to encourage growth.  I'm reminded of a quotation I used to keep on my classroom wall: There are always two choices, two paths to take; one is easy, and it's only reward is that it's easy.

Done: The Books I Read in 2012

With the new year close enough that I'm already hearing fireworks across Lake Hickory, it's safe to assume my reading for the year is complete.  Although I know I omitted some of the books of poetry I read this year and some of my school reading, this is as complete a list as I can.  Some I have written about here; some I still will (especially the last few).  I'd love to hear feedback to know what others read this year and recommend.

1.      Murakami, Haruki. 1Q84

2.      Flaubert, Gustave. Madame Bovary (trans. Lydia Davis)

3.      House, Silas. Clay’s Quilt

4.      Dugard, Jaycee. A Stolen Life

5.      Stead, Rebecca. When You Reach Me

6.      King, Stephen. November 22, 1963

7.      Pearson, Alison. I Think I Love You

8.      Anderson, M. T. Feed

9.      Foer, Joshua. Moonwalking with Einstein

10.  Woodring, Susan. Goliath

11.  Hillenbrand, Laura. Unbroken

12.  Handler, Daniel. Why We Broke Up

13.  Wiggins, Marianne. Shadowcatcher

14.  Stein, Garth. The Art of Racing in the Rain

15.  Kinsella, Sophie. I’ve Got Your Number

16.  Blake, Sarah, The Postmistress

17.   Mayhew, Anna Jean. The Dry Grass of August

18.  Phillips, Gin. Come in and Cover Me.

19.  Green, Amy. Bloodroot

20.  Auslander, Shalom. Hope: A Tragedy

21.  Morganstern, Erin. The Night Circus

22.  Towles, Amor. Rules of Civility

23.  Hiassen, Carl. Nature Girl.

24.  2Robinson, Marilynne. Gilead

25.  Maynard, Joyce. The Good Daughters

26.  Bradley, Alan. A Red Herring Without Mustard

27.  Rash, Ron. The Cove

28.  Wilson, Tamra. Dining with Robert Redford.

29.  Max Lucado, Traveling Light

30.  Larsen, Erik. In the Garden of the Beasts.

31.  Owens, Scott. For One Who Knows How to Own Land

32.  Carty, Jessie. Amateur Marriage.

33.  Bradley, Alan. The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag.

34.  Pittman-Schultz, Kimberley. Mosslight

35.  Wilkerson, Isabel. The Warmth of Other Suns

36.  Mantel, Hillary. Bring up the Bodies

37.  Carl Hiassen, A Really Bad Lie

38.  Dilloway, Margaret. How to Be an American Housewife

39.  Ray, Jeannie. Calling Invisible Women

40.  Barnhill, Anne Clinard. What You Long For

41.  Pearson, Allison. I Don’t Know How She Does It

42.  Diffenbaugh, Vanessa. The Language of Flowers

43.  Tyler, Anne. Beginner’s Goodbye

44.  Flynn, Gillian. Gone Girl.

45.  Tinti, Hannah. The Good Thief

46.  Albrecht, Malaika King. What the Trapeze Artist Trusts

47.  Grewal, Sandeep, M.D., Dementia Express

48.  Grisham, John. Calico Joe

49.  Bradley, Alan. I Am Half Sick of Shadows

50.  Chevalier, Tracy. Remarkable Creatures.

51.  Irving, John. A Prayer for Owen Meany

52.  Jordan, Hillary. Mudbound

53.  Cash, Wiley. A Land More Kind than Home

54.  Zafon, Carlos Ruiz. The Prisoner of Heaven

55.  Simpson, Bland. Two Captains from Carolina

56.  Nabakov, Vladimir. Lolita

57.  Platt, David. Radical Together

58.  Semple, Maria. Where’d You Go, Bernadette?

59.  Rowling, J. K. A Casual Vacancy

60.  Goolrick, Robert. Heading Out to Wonderful

61.  Ishiguro, Kazuo. Never Let Me Go

62.  Russell, Karen. Swamplandia.

63.  Mitchell, David. Cloud Atlas

64.  Dweck, Carol. Mindset

65.  Myers, Walter Dean. Monster

66.  Johnson, Adam. The Orphan Master’s Son

Done: The Books I Read in 2012

Making My List...

In a few days, I'll be compiling the list of all the books I read during 2012, first copying them over into the little "Book Woman" notebook someone gave me years ago, then posting my list here. I read awhile back that Art Garfunkel has kept a record of the books he's read since his teenage years. How I wish I had done the same.  But I didn't.

I have a system now, writing the title of every book I finish on the wall calendar that hangs in my laundry room.  Each year my son John tries to pick the most outrageous, hilarious calendar possible, and the laundry room is a safe enough place to hang it, out of everyone else's sight perhaps, but right where I can see it and record my day-to-day business. The book list, though, is most valuable to me.

For now, though, I am thinking ahead to the list of books I hope to get around to reading this coming year.  I have tried this kind of list before, and I rarely read half because other books make an appearance, and I'm lured away.

A few of the books on my to-read list come from friends.  One, nearly family, gave me a book her fifteen-year-old daughter bought for me because it's her favorite book, Walter Dean Myer's Monster.  I also plan to read The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grisson and Accordion Crimes by Annie Proulx, both on loan from a friend at work.  I also plan to read Katherine Boo's Behind the Beautiful Forevers, set in a Mumbai slum.  I also plan to read Ken Follet's Winter of the World, the second in his Century Series.  After meeting the author at the North Carolina Writers Network fall conference, I also look forward to reading Binocular Vision, Edith Pearlman's short story collection, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award.

I gave Anne Lamott's Help, Thanks, Wow! as a Christmas gift, but I plan to read it myself.  I also hope to read Zadie Smith's NW. I also think I want to read Louise Erdrich's Round House and Barbara Kingsolver's Flight Behavior.  I'm also holding on to my newest collection of Lee Smith's short stories Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger I bought when she spoke at our conference of English instructors.

I tend to claim not to read much nonfiction, but my list shows otherwise.  I am interested in reading Far from the Tree  by Andrew Solomon, about the experiences of parenting a wide range of "exceptional children."  I also plan to read through The Happiness Project starting in January, with a little side project of my own.

I'm also drawn to The Art Forger, based simply on the title and a brief blurb, and I liked Still Alice enough that I might want to read Love Anthony by Lisa Genova. Based on recommendations, I may also need to read Kevin Powers' The Yellow Birds and Junot Diaz' This Is How You Lose Her.

Since I don't live in a vacuum, in fact, since my world is peopled by readers, avid, voracious readers, I know that over the next few days, I'll be hearing what books others read during the holidays or received or gave as Christmas gifts, and there will go my best-laid plans.  Fortunately, I know that whatever else I'll be doing, I will be reading in 2013.

Making My List...

Swamplandia!

Occasionally, I'll have good intentions to read a novel based on recommendations from a wide range of friends or readers I trust. Swamplandia was one of those books. I started it, was interrupted, and I let it sit there on the night stand for weeks, months maybe.  Then I started over.  (Note:  It is almost always worth the trouble of starting from scratch when you have stopped reading a book. It seems like a waste of time, but it  grounds me again in the work.  Since I often re-read the first few pages when I finish a book, maybe this serves a similar purpose.)

Swamplandia is set in the swamps of Florida on an island housing a family-owned, nearly defunct alligator park--Swamplandia! (Yes, the exclamation park is part of the name and the book title.)  As the book opens, Ava Bigtree, the youngest daughter narrates after her mother, the great gator wrestler Hilola Bigtree, dies of cancer.  The  mother's death affects them all, as does the opening of the nearby World of Darkness, a hell-themed amusement park, less nostalgic than Swamplandia!  Ava feels compelled to train to take over her mother's role; her sister Osceola reads a book on spiritualism and falls in love with a ghost.  Brother Kiwi Bigtree runs away from home and takes a job at World of Darkness, hoping to save the family and the park from economic doom.

When Kiwi leaves, Russell begins alternating between a third person narrator of the segments involving him and the first person account of Ava, the not-quite-naive narrator.  When their father leaves the island for a long period, Ava ends up alone, her sister eloping with her ghost, Kiwi out of touch.  The arrival of The Big Man, a gypsy who rids the area of bird of prey, produces the real tension of the story as Ava innocently seeks someone to love and trust when left to survive on her own.

Russell's writing is often lyrical without drawing undue attention to itself.  She develops her setting so clearly I could feel the damp, could smell the swamp.  Despite the grand pretensions by their father, the self-proclaimed Chief, readers rarely lose sight of the real story--a family that falls apart after losing their mother.

Swamplandia!

Quality of Life--for Clones

I read Ishiguro's novel Remains of the  Day long ago, but I am still struck by the subtlety of the book, much of which Anthony Hopkins was able to convey wordlessly in the film version.  I recently read another of his  novels--one he published in 2006--Never Let Me Go, and I wonder whether, had I not known the books shared the same author, if I would have considered Ishiguro a likely candidate?

Though this novel might be classified science fiction, the characters were so fully human that I would not have suspected they were actually clones if I had not been told.  The world in which Cathy H. and her fellow "students" (the name preferred for clones by their "guardians") live is sometime in present day or recent England.  Kathy H., the narrator, is a "carer" in her thirties as she tells the story of her life, beginning with her years at Hailsham, an exclusive school for clones.  The life she describes could have been that of any teenagers raised in a boarding school.  Only gradually do readers realize the students are unusual in that they are clones, bred and raised eventually to become organ donors. 

Because this is the only life they have known and because they are given information about themselves often before they are mature enough to process it, they alternate between blind acceptance and curious scrutiny of their futures and their personal situations. 

Because the plot does not deal with the actual science behind their creation or their donation, it is mainly a character-driven tale, with a narrator who reveals more about herself that she seems to realize.  The relationship triangle involves Kathy H., her best friend Ruth, a controlling, manipulative queen bee, and Tommy, a boy first bullied because of his temper and lack of creativity who eventually becomes Ruth's boyfriend, even though readers recognize early on that he and Kathy H. are much better suited.

What strikes me most, looking back at the story, are the implications about quality of life.  Kathy and Tommy eventually track down two adults that played important roles in their life at Hailsham and learn that their time at Hailsham was part of an experiment, exposing students to meaningful lives of art, music and literature, before their inevitable deaths.  They learn that most of their clone peers in other situations are raised in squalor, more like farm animals or lab monkeys that esteemed individuals.

While some seem to imply the students were duped into creativity and lulled into complacency about their inevitable future, I wonder if the dominant lesson is that since everyone is filling time between birth and death, shouldn't the time be marked meaningfully?  Even after graduation, before they become "carers" for donors before becoming donors themselves, Kathy and her fellow residents are granted time to read and to write.  They have some access, though limited, to the outside world. They even choose to spend some of that time searching for or speculating about "possibles"--the source of their original DNA makeup--not unusual for any humans with  unanswered questions about our origins and our eventual destinations.

Quality of Life--for Clones