Can I Just Clarify One Thing Real Quickly Here?

"...one of the problems with women taking full leadership is that it inevitably involves a collapsing of the distinctions between the sexes."

--Thomas R. Schreiner in his conluding statements about contemporary application of 1 Corinthians 11:2-16, in Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism, edited by J. Piper and W. Grudem. Wheaton: Crossway, 1991.


It's probably irresponsible or lazy for me to just throw this quote out here without offering an in-depth response or critique, but as I sit here reading this text, researching "Male-Headship" readings of 1 Corinthians, I just want to go on record to say that as women continue to take on full leadership roles both in church and society, it will highlight the distinctions between the sexes, not collapse them. That's the whole point, from my perspective. I want women in leadership because they will lead as women, not lead as men. Only then can we experience a reframing/healing/redesign of what we have only been offered from male paradigms.

An egalitarian society does not equal an un-gendered society.


That's all I have to say for now, Messieurs Piper and Grudem.

There's A Whole Chapter On Cannibalism And I'm Not Sure Why

The Hungry Soul: Eating and the Perfecting of Our Nature by Leon R. Kass


My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Kass's philosophical exploration of the human need and habits around food, seems to depend largely on Western, modernist notions of self-perfection through progress. Kass appears to equate human civilization with virtue, (references to animals always being pejorative) and rarely accounts for the psychological constraints of culture and society that produced much of the manners/customs he seems to praise as progress. The book has intriguing arguments, but only in the context of a larger conversation about food and human/cultural identity. It's often hard to tell if Kass is asserting what he believes or merely reporting trends. As such, I found myself pushing against much of his claims, while not knowing if he was actually claiming the idea I was pushing against.

Perhaps this book is simply exploring questions that don't interest me. A very odd read. Or maybe I really just don't like/get reading philosophy.

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Mama Wants A Time Machine

Blaine has been collecting 100 Words from various folk and topics (presumably) connected to them. He gave me "Reading". There's a lot I would want to say about reading, and have previously given 100 words to Story for Joshua. But I went with the first thing I tend to think of with reading, and of course, it's about how much I want a time machine. Here's my 100 Words.

Thanks Blaine.

"A" is for "AHA!": The Scarlet Letter as Nathaniel Hawthorne's Biggest Inside Joke

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

We all read it in eleventh grade. The language was dense, but we ached for Hester, hated Chillingworth and rooted for Dimmesdale. It all felt so dramatic and deep and dark, like moss on an old oak tree covering up secret messages carved long ago by two star-crossed lovers.

And then you read it as an adult.

Umm...sorry Ms. Vehar, but how did you fail to mention that this books is hilarious? I could practically hear Nathaniel Hawthorne's eyelashes swishing as he winked sarcastically from from behind every page. The faux Puritan prose is just that: faux. While Hawthorne makes grandiose statements about the severity and coldness of those old Puritan days, he is practically bruising the reader with elbow jabs to the ribs saying, "Nudge, nudge, get it? WE ARE JUST AS JUDGMENTAL AND SEVERE TODAY! HA!!"

Despite the mild bruising, I couldn't help but adorn the margins with smiley faces every time I felt my buddy Nathaniel winking at me. But for all the smiley faces, it was a surprise to realize how distant the narrator really stays from the characters. While adaptations of the story focus on the passion of the silenced lovers and imagine a rich thought life for Hester, the book rarely visits the interior worlds of the characters beyond what is symbolically represented by their, well, symbols- her daughter Pearl, the rose bushes, the gallows, meteors, the eponymous scarlet letter, etc. The narrator spends far more time alluding to foreboding symbolic omens of psychological disruption, than inviting the reader to feel what the characters feel, or even know what they are feeling. This book is anything but romantic.

Further, Dimmesdale is in no way a hero to root for. From my reading, Hawthone thinks him the worst kind of cowardly narcissist there is. For all of Dimmesdale's self-imposed chastisement and loathing, he goes about his life feeling rather proud of his status as secret horrible sinner, whereas Hester bears the public shame and maintains her integrity. Dimmesdale's death (oops, spoiler) is his final pathetic act of grandiosity- he begs for Hester to give him her strength, but still chooses the easy way out as a martyr for his own sinfulness. He avoids the real risk, following Hester into a life beyond Salem's black & white punitive moral justice. He disintegrates into the non-person he is, rather than choosing to live honestly as an imperfect man.

I enjoyed my revisit to The Scarlet Letter, especially considering it had been twelve years since I'd read it. It's a short read, and if you can read it as satire, not morose allegory, it really shines with brilliant psychological insights. And no matter how unlikable I found her to be, Hester really is an amazing female character. Hawthorne supposedly based her largely on Margaret Fuller, a woman whom nearly all those transcendentalist fellows were head over heals for. She marched to her own drum, choosing lovers often over marriage, and career over domestic security. It must have been pretty shocking in 1850 to read about the choices Hester Prynne makes, and I bet a lot of Hawthorne's ironical winks and nudges would not have been as humorous if you were the party being implicated. But for 2009, it's an enlightening and entertaining read.


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Reading the Worst the Bible Has to Offer

Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives by Phyllis Trible


My rating: 4 of 5 stars




While Trible's literary/rhetorical criticism asks a lot of an ancient, multi-sourced text, the endeavor is still humbling in scope and purpose. Published over 25 years ago now, Texts of Terror is still a shining example of feminist Biblical criticism, as well a work of deep faith, hope and compassion. Trible takes four of the most disturbing Biblical examples of sexual violence against women and exegetes them with a Christological lens. Buried under the violence, subjugation and silencing, Trible unearths the following women:

Hagar: Egyptian Slave Woman
She was wounded for our transgressions; she was bruised for our iniquities
Genesis 16;1-16; 21:9-21

Tamar: Princess of Judah
A woman of sorrows and acquainted with grief
2 Samuel 13:1-22

An Unnamed Woman: Concubine from Bethlehem
Her body was broken and given to many
Judges 19:1-30

The Daughter of Jephthah: Virgin in Gilead
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken her?
Judges 11:29-40

By reading these texts closely and attending to the subject/object of grammar and the often chiasmic nature of the syntax, Trible finds the people and poetry under the stories, and through them, a glimpse of redemption for these texts of terror as they reveal the brokenness of human violence paired with solidarity in Christ's suffering and sacrifice.

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Why Edna Stays on My Desk At All Times

Collected Poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay by Edna St. Vincent Millay


My rating: 4 of 5 stars



The Spring and the Fall

In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year.
He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach
That was out of the way and hard to reach.

In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The rooks went up with a raucous trill.
I hear them still, in the fall of the year.
He laughed at all I dared to praise,
And broke my heart, in little ways.

Year be springing or year be falling,
The bark will drip and the birds be calling.
There's much that's fine to see and hear
In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year.
'Tis not love's going hurt my days.
But that it went in little ways.

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Part IV of Prolegomena to Further Critique of Sadomasochistic Teenage Erotica

Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer


My rating: 1 of 5 stars

Breaking Dawn is the fourth and final book of Stephenie Meyer's vampire "love" story. This is the hardest of all for me to write about. The story is scattered across different narrators, has no story arc to speak of and drags the reader from chaotic scenes of violence to endless chapters of banal wish fulfillment. But unlike the previous books, there is no definable landing point either for critique or narrative discussion. Reading this book was like watching a slasher film on a TV with horrible reception- the picture keeps flaying out into blurry but disturbing images, only to be interrupted by ads for Hallmark and Wal-Mart: juxtapositions of physical and emotional violence with images of domesticity and consumption.

On top of that, I was bored to the point of literally needing to write "I'm bored" every 20 pages or so. Needless to say, I am not yet ready to equitably or creatively engage the issues of the text. I mostly just want to complain. But I will try to say something beyond “Why? Why? Why? Why?”

Whereas the three previous books in the Twilight Saga used awkward literary intertexts, arguably to underline a theme of Bella and Edward's relationship, Breaking Dawn has no such allusions. The first book, Twilight, has Bella reading Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. At first I thought this was an embarrassing plug to encourage girls to do their English homework. After the next two books, however, I realized this was supposed to serve as meaningful literary allusion. Bella reads Pride and Prejudice then meets an aloof, severe man who then turns out to be her ideal charming counterpart. At least that’s how it’s supposed to come across. Instead, we get the evocation of a classic prototype of the rude, narcissistic, controlling man as dashing romantic hero. Mr. Darcy and Edward Cullen do have something in common: they make women swoon by being uncommunicative and evasive.

New Moon has Bella reading and watching Romeo & Juliet. Then, surprise! Bella and Edward find themselves in a situation where one lover thinks the other lover is dead and wants to kill themself as a result. We have the reinforcement of star-crossed romance being noble and romantic- i.e.: the pairing of love with tragedy and adversity, rather than health and mutuality. Not to mention the fact that both characters fantasize about suicide and death rather than separation from one another.

By Eclipse, I’d come to expect these trite intertexts, but I was in no way prepared for the bomb Meyer set off in this third book. Pride and Prejudice and Romeo and Juliet are two of the most celebrated love stories in Western literature, so surely Meyer’s third choice would be something even more exemplary of our perceptions (however troublesome) of romantic love, right? Nope. Here I was reading the book through the lens of sadomasochism, and BOOM! Meyer lobs out Wuthering Heights in the very first chapter! My eyes nearly disengaged from their sockets. Wuthering Heights is THE sadomasochistic text of all time, barring the actual writings of the Marquis de Sade perhaps. Catherine and Heathcliff threaten one another, abuse and imprison others, and ultimately die in order to torture one another from beyond the grave. While Meyer’s characters debate about the idea of Catherine and Heathcliff being romantic characters- is there anything admirable about them at all?- such in-novel debate does not change the fact that the characters are being evoked and compared. Bella even interprets Edward’s actions using Heathcliff’s dialogue. Eclipse is actually the only case of appropriate intertextuality in the whole trilogy (except maybe the brief reference to Macbeth in Twilight). Wuthering Heights’ violence, dominance and dysfunction of enmeshed, co-dependant, petulant adolescents obsessed with one another matches Meyer’s characters perfectly. What her real intent was, I shudder to imagine.

But there is no 11th grade English class intertext in Breaking Dawn, the final book. Instead, we get Bella’s continually bruised, bleeding, ripped body that eventually (and painfully) transforms into a goddess-like body of a sex object. As usual, she finds continually creative ways to be secretive regarding her real feelings, resorting to manipulation and oftentimes begging in order to be listened to or have her desires responded to. She hides her suffering (physical and emotional) from her protectors (husband, male best friend/father/step-father/intrusive sister-in-law, dissociated mother) and when her injuries are too visible to be hidden, she convinces herself that there’s nothing wrong. This includes her waking up on her wedding morning covered with bruises from her husband’s (vampire) passion. She spends the morning trying to assuage him that the bruises don’t hurt…

Here is where I need about 50 more pages to talk. Fortunately, I’ve given myself a year to work on this text and these issues. So I’ll stop now.

Conclusion to my prolegomena: I find nothing redeemable or enjoyable about these books or these characters. So much suffering, so much guilt, so much dissociation, lying, SARCASM, anger, SARCASM, violence, self-contempt, not to mention the sickening paring of perfect family domestic life with gratuitous conspicuous consumerism. The Cullens are supposed to be the most generous and loving family ever to live, and yet they have millions of dollars just sitting around being spent on fashion, luxury cars and private islands. The Cullens are angelic immortals yet they keep $40,000 in loose change rather than, say, spending their eternal lives giving it away to those who actually need to eat. Also- while I’m on a Cullen rant- I thought it was problematic that Dr. Cullen kept purchasing blood from the hospital for his new vampire family members, but the only issue raised about it was the expense, not the fact that donated blood is there to save human lives, not sustain the appetites of newborn vampires. But I digress…

So many people I trust, value and respect have found great meaning in these stories. Now begins the journey of trying to understand why.

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I Hope You're Right, Nathaniel Hawthorne.

"It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility."

-Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

Finally feeling like that "gradual and quiet process" might be able to start.

Part III of Prolegomena to Further Critique of Sadomasochistic Teenage Erotica

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer


My rating: 1 of 5 stars

See Twilight Post Part I for context explanation.


In Eclipse, we have the continuing issue of people, particularly men, undermining and re-naming Bella’s experience. She is repeatedly told, “You don’t feel that” “Don’t be silly” “You’re being oversensitive” “Don’t freak out”. What is worse, however, is that by this third book, Bella rarely needs to be told this by others, because she does it for herself. We see Bella compartmentalize her feelings before she has a chance to feel them. Every action she takes is out of a misguided sense of protection for other people’s reactions and feelings. She equates telling the truth with hurting others. She continually (Literally) asks others to punish her rather than forgive her when she says what she feels and it disappoints them. She looks for ways to bleed for others rather than acknowledge how they have manipulated, coerced or betrayed her. She blames herself for any “selfish” feeling regarding her own experience, but refuses to let others apologize, even when their behavior borders on abusive.

As a woman, hurting someone’s feelings is the most selfish crime one can commit. Better to remain silent than suffer the guilt after telling someone a truth they will not like hearing. If someone says you’re being oversensitive or silly, believe them. Others know what you’re feeling better than you do. A woman should never put a man in a position where he has to watch her cry, be angry or show any other emotion beyond compliance. If you do this, you are a selfish monster and don’t deserve to be loved.

That’s Book Three.

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Part II of Prolegomena to Further Critique of Sadomasochistic Teenage Erotica

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer


My rating: 2 of 5 stars

See Twilight Post Part I for context explanation.

New Moon’s thematic trope has to do with abandonment and control. Bella is made promises by numerous males in her life that they will protect her at all costs and that she will never come to harm. Those promises are repeatedly broken, leaving Bella abandoned by those who made sweeping, possessive claims regarding their roles as protector. Thus, we have the repeating theme of men being both the self-proclaimed protectors and the ones who leave you unprotected. The men who swear to protect you are also the men who will leave you. Bella is not only abandoned by men, but bears the guilt of believing its her fault they left. In most cases, the men give no reason for their silence or absence, and she is left to find the cause in herself. When they return and cite their initial promises that they promised they’d always protect her, she feels even more guilt for how hard it is to trust their word. This crazy-making cycle always comes back to men who say, “Why did you doubt that I would protect you?” and then say, “I’m leaving and it’s for your own good.” Women are expected to trust men even when they break their word. If you doubt a man’s word, you hurt his feelings. Then he might leave you. The cycle continues.

Women, keep your fears and doubts to yourself. Men will make promises, break them, then reestablish trust by saying you were crazy for ever doubting them. Possesion/Abdandonement/Guilt/Possession/Abandonement/Guilt as pattern for relationship.

That’s Book Two.

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Prolegomena to Further Critique of Sadomasochistic Teenage Erotica

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer


My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Since I feel awkward having these books appearing in my "read" shelves without any explanation, I feel I must offer a little context, before I unleash my full response to the Twilight Saga sometime next spring.

I'm currently doing research based on the series, looking at themes of sexual violence, specifically, identifying the Twilight saga as an example of a sadomasochistic narrative. Without going into the details, I'll offer my short version of the main theme I've found so far in each book.

Twilight introduces teenage Bella and her vampire lover Edward. My main take away from Twilight is that in order for Bella to receive physical and emotional intimacy, she must literally stand as still as possible, hold her breath and hold back any of her own responses. To receive closeness, she must shut down and dissociate. She is held responsible for Edward's sexual and physical actions. Its her job to make sure he doesn't lose control. If she does respond to his advances, thus arousing him, he gets angry, pushes her away and blames her for tempting him past his limit. He, however, is free to be as sensual with her as he likes.

Women as both the tempter and manager of men's sexuality- while their own feminine sexuality must be suppressed.


That's book one.

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"We will never know how the mind turns the water of our cells into the wine of consciousness"

Proust Was a Neuroscientist by Jonah Lehrer


My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I was drawn to Jonah Lehrer's book when I saw a light blue paperback with a madeleine cookie on the cover along with the word "neuroscientist". Tasty looking indeed. When I opened it up, I saw that an entire chapter was devoted to George Eliot and "The Biology of Freedom". With little more info than that, I basically took the book to the cash register and had at it.

To quote the description on the back, Lehrer's book explores the idea that "when it comes to understanding the brain, art got there first." Each chapter profiles a 19th-early 20th century artist and how their work revealed an understanding of how our brains function that neuroscience is only just beginning to discover. Most engaging was the chapter on chef Auguste Escoffier and the intuiting of umami- our only very recently canonized new taste- joining savory, sweet and the rest. The chapter on Stravinsky and how our brains learn to enjoy music was also refreshing.

Overall, however, I find I was most alert while Lehrer profiled the artists, particularly as he located them within the scientific atmosphere of their time. Once each chapter switched to descriptions of neurological functioning the writing became dense and hard to connect with. Maybe there's just no easy way to write about neuroscience no matter how many literary references one uses. Lehrer's effort is much appreciated, but still feels only mildly successful. I loved learning about the relationships (or animosities) these artists had to the scientific communities of their era, but the connection to what their art revealed about what we now know of the brain still felt like a bit of a reach. But still interesting. Ultimately, I love Lehrer's goal of fostering dialogue and mutual understanding between science and art.

"We now know enough to know that we will never know everything. That is why we need art: it teaches us how to live with mystery. Only the artist can explore the ineffable without offering us an answer, for sometimes there is no answer...When we venture beyond the edge of our knowledge, all we have is art."

Beautiful.

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Alfonso Cuarón, Harry Potter and the Etymology of Sonship

In the days loking forward to Harry Potter Film #6 (which, by the way I absolutley loved: it's the Harry Potter film Robert Altman would have made if he'd ever made one- driven by relationships and naturalistic moments rather then heavy plot- and the dialogue and acting felt so much more spontaneous and honest- in some ways in was the least "movie" of the movies and really felt more like Gosford Park than Chamber of Secrets- a good direction in my opinion), I spent time reflecting on why I love these movies so much. (With the exception of Goblet of Fire which I find to be inane and dishonest in its characterization and storytelling).

I always come back to Prisoner of Azkaban, which I consider one of my top ten films ever. I love it that much, and respect it that much (and have seen it at least 12 times). Most of the reasons I love it all come back to the fact that Alfonso Cuarón transformed Chris Columbus' fantasy kids movies into art. It's not the first time Cuarón took on a potentially insipid kids box office draw and arrayed it with subtlety, aesthetic depth and integrity. His version of Frances Hodgsen Burnett's "A Little Princess" that came out in 1995, though seemingly sappy from the previews, was a tender and passionate story of love and compassion, told from a daughter's perspective. (Also, to either its strength or detriment, its from his Green period, like Great Expectations- does every scene need 23 green accents in the room?).

Like "A Little Princess", "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" is about being orphaned and being fathered, and the more I think about it, that seems to be the story Cuaron tends to tell. The theme of fatherhood or needing a father pops up continually in his work, whether its his short segment in Paris, je t'aime or the aptly tiitled Children of Men. Cuaron continually evokes in viewers questions and feelings around what its like to live without the protection of a father, and the ache that brings.

This is what makes the 3rd Harry Potter film so resoundingly powerful for me. There's no Voldemort, no Death Eater crap, just the story of Harry being fathered by at least four men who value him in different ways, and the impact that has on Harry's ability to know himself better. Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, Hagrid and Mr. Weasley as well, all speak into Harry's life in guiding ways that both respect Harry's feelings and what he's been through, but also in ways that want to protect his childhood and not thrust him unnecessarily into responsibilities that should belong to them as adults, not a thirteen year old kid. There are also strong mothering characters as well, with Mrs. Weasley's fierce-some tenderness and Professor McGonagal's watchfulness and strength.

What is most powerful is the symbolism of the patronus charm. While we see Harry being truly seen and loved by a diversity of strong men and women, we see how they help him see himself apart from the abuse he was raised under, and step more into his own strength. When Harry is saved by the patronus charm on the lake where Sirius in being attacked by dementors, he believes its his somehow his father, back from the dead. The audience sees a white stag. In the books, we learn that the stag is the same animal that James Potter turned into as an animagus. Both we and Harry later realize that Harry is actually the one who sent the patronus. In the moment when he realizes his father is not going to appear to save Sirius (and himself in a time-traveling complexity), he finally, instinctually steps forth with his wand and shouts "Expecto Patronum!" and a beautful eruption of light beams resound out, almost like sound waves, rocketing through the trees and casting out the dementors.

Here is the one instance where J.K. Rowling's silly puddy approach to new etymological creations actually has depth. Patron, is Latin for protector, and comes from pater, meaning father. To produce the charm, Harry pulls from his deepest memory of happiness then shouts "Expecto Patronum" - "I Expect My Father!" which is both literally true because he thought his father sent the patronus, but also feels like a cry of his heart saying "I deserve a father, I expect protection, i believe I will be fathered still." And if you take the word "expect" a little father to its use in the word expectorate- meant for coughing/spitting but able to mean "to send out from the chest", Harry is also saying "From myself I send out a protector", which is exactly what happens as he sends out his patronus deer to defend himself and his godfather Sirius.

In this haunting and heart-expanding moment of the film, Harry both waits for the protection of the father he knows he truly belongs to and also acts as his own prtoector out of love for the godfather who has just come into his his life. In believing that he is worthy to be fathered, Harry is able to father himself. Soon after, Harry tells Hermione, "It wasn't my dad I saw earlier. It was... me. I saw myself conjuring the Patronus before. I knew I could do it this time, because...because I'd already done it. Does that make sense?" Yes it does make sense. Harry could save himself because in "Expecting his Father" he also found the strength to "Expect/Send himself".

I can't help but find spiritual meaning in this scene. The "I Expect My Father" feels like a prayer for protection even as it claims and achieves that very protection. The expecting of a father can only come when one feels named as a son/daughter. Harry's most powerful display of magical strength comes in the moment when he feels most like a son- both a son to Sirius who will die if Harry doesn't save him, and a son to the parents who loved him and were killed before he could love them back. It's love that makes the patronus charm work, and that love is rooted in the identity of knowing he was loved by those who father/mothered him and who sacrificed in order to protect him. Harry's mother gave her life to save him, and her love literally entered his skin and marked him for life. I believe this moment in Prisoner of Azkaban, the sending of the powerful patronus against the dementors, is when Harry ceases to be an orphan and truly knows himself to be loved, worthy of being loved, and truly able to love others. I want to cry every time I see it.

Reading Annie Rogers Again

A Shining Affliction: A Story of Harm and Healing in Psychotherapy by Annie G. Rogers


My rating: 4 of 5 stars






"What you fear most has already happened."

“Are you wondering, Annie, how someone who doesn’t see you, really doesn’t recognize you, could possibly say goodbye to you?”

“When you feel you know the future, you can be sure that you are reliving the past...because nobody knows the future.”

“I could not afford to respond truthfully to them, to show them anything real about their effect on me.”

“In each moment in every life, there is a gesture hovering, to move toward or away from a truth.”

“If you fulfilled their wishes and died, then maybe they could love you.”

“I’d actually feel like a child for a moment or so.”

“This child could already foretell the future through the past.”

“What has been wounded in relationship must be, after all, healed in relationship.”

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May We All Take Anne Brontë's Advice And Stop Being Attracted To Assholes

(Click to Enlarge)

Thanks Erin

comic courtesy of Hark! A Vagrant

A Day I Have Dreamed of Since 6th Grade...

Has Happened.

Erin Blakemore, my soulmate in all things literary since puberty, is being published!

I don't know if I could be more excited if it was me being published.

Erin has always been an author, so nothing feels more natural than that the world should know it, (and pay her for it).


Here's the publishing announcement of her book deal.
Not hard to see where our hearts are aligned, yes?

Erin, I Love you and am so proud, happy, excited, anticipatory, humbled, impressed, crazy-freaking-joyeous. I cannot wait to curl up with your beautiful words about the women (fictional and actual) that have shaped us. You are a true heroine!

Dolly Parton, Ronald Reagan and the Non-Separatist Puritans of Boston

The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars

I'm a huge Sarah Vowell fan. Whether on the radio or in her books, she melds memoir, pop culture and ruminations on under-told stories of American history with wit, insight and flashes of profound grief and compassion. She's like a fencing master of intertextuality- which the first section of her newest book so brilliantly displays, where she compares John Winthrop's 1613 diary list of Calvinist spiritual goals to Jay Gatsby's self-improvement routine. In fact, it's the opening portion of Vowell's 'Wordy Shipmates' that exemplifies the best of what she has to offer in drawing together historical oddities and their comical (and disturbing) contemporary ramifications. While the book focuses on the highs and lows of the non-Separatists Puritan community of Massachusetts Bay (as opposed to the darling Puritans of Plymouth Colony who were Separatists) the first section tracks the history of Winthrop's 1630 sermon "On Christian Charity" and its perseverance through time in famous presidential speeches. To quote, "Talking about Winthrop's "A Model of Christian Charity" without discussing Ronald Reagan would be like mentioning Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You" and pretending Whitney Houston's doesn't exist. Whitney and Reagan's covers were way more famous than the original versions."

Throughout this opening section, Vowell points out that America's self identification as the 'CIty on a Hill" disregards the other elements of Winthrop's (and the book of Matthew's) point, that includes humble submission and service to one another. "...the "City on a Hill" is the image from Winthrop's speech that stuck and not "members of the same body." No one is going to hold up a cigarette lighter to the tune of "mourn together, suffer together."

This is the kind of perspective I love Sarah Vowell for, but unfortunately, the majority of "Wordy Shipmates" lacks the most important element: Sarah Vowell. At a certain point, she seems to leave the conversation and just get bogged down in historical reporting, with little interpretation or commentary. That's where the book turned textbook and left me behind. I read Vowell to journey with her, to see what pops up in her head as she researches and writes about Anne Hutchinson, Roger Williams or the Pequot War. But 'Shipmates' is heavy on the names on dates and light on reflection. It's a worthwhile read for the first 70 pages alone, but by the end, I missed Vowell's voice and winning way of educating, elucidating and entertaining.


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Jane Austen Critiques Chick-Lit

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars

For my summer of revisiting Jane Austen, I started at the beginning, the earliest written yet posthumously published Northanger Abbey (technically, which was written when is a little complicated, but Northanger Abbey is usually treated like her first). Knowing already that it was a send up of the Gothic novels of the time, with their catastrophic heroines, dangerous castles and possibly vampiric men, I didn't know if the story would stand on its own.

Holy cow what a delight! Austen's writing is ingenious, as she subverts her readers' (and her heroine's) expectations by laying out what "should" excite her characters or send them into the throws of ecstasy (be it a ball, new handkerchief or old building) and instead, lets things be quietly pleasing and realistically worthy. It's hilarious to feel Austen winking from behind the page. In fact, I found myself beginning to draw smiley faces in the margins whenever she coated critique with demur sensibility- where she dresses her sarcasm in petticoats, as it were. All in all I counted 14 smiley faces (about 1 every 14 pages), and an exclamation point in the margins of at least every 7 pages.

It's been a long time since I laughed out-loud reading a book. It makes my heart fluttery to be chuckling along with a novel from 1813, and more-so to be moved by the spunky candor and cultural critique of a woman writing her observations of how ridiculous everyone around her was- 200 years ago.

Northanger Abbey is the Chai Tea Latte of Victorian Fiction*- smooth, delicious, warm, but with a bit of spicy bite to it.


View all my reviews.

** and yes, it's anachronistic to call Jane Austen Victorian fiction- but somehow "Victorian" has come to mean 19th century England, however inaccurate that might be**

2009 MHGS Graduation Haiku

Feeling like Beth March:
"I love being home. But I
don't like being left..."

And They Spelled My Name Right Too!

Okay, this post is going to be grossly self-aggrandizing (but isn't that what blogs are anyway?), but you see, I was bored and so I plugged my name into Amazon.com's book search and tada! found myself in two published books. Yes- me, actually me. This cracks me up! Admittedly, I knew about one of them and own a copy of it, but the other was quite a surprise.
















While these books are basically just lists of programs, it's still fun to find oneself in print unexpectedly. Now if only I could find myself at the Kennedy Center Honors...unexpectedly. My aspirations are humble.