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Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (and Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling / Review

20 Dec

 In 2011, I discovered a new favorite genre: Memoiresque Essay Collections by Comedy Writers Who Went to Prestigous Universities.  :)

While Tina Fey’s Bossypants (she went to UVa, of course!) earned lots of press (and rightly so), I had not heard of The Office’s Mindy Kaling’s (Dartmouth College) semi-similar offering, also published this year.  I am so glad I picked it up in the annual book club Christmas book exchange! In the midst of  rocking a cranky baby, I read this book in the course of 24 hours.

Kaling’s book is equal parts hilarious and charming.  Although I’m a long-time fan of The Office, I have never liked the character of Kelly Kapoor. Don’t worry — Kaling and Kapoor are not the same. In this book, Kaling recounts stories from a “chubby” childhood, failures in showbiz, and life working on The Office.  It’s really well-written, it’s heartwarming, it made me laugh out loud more than once.

I actually liked it better than Bossypants.

Rather than bore you with recaps (because I know you’ll be picking the book up anyway!), I will share a particularly hilarious passages with you.

On why she hates the song “Jack and Diane”:

As the child of immigrant professionals, I can’t help by notice the wasteful frivolity of it all. Why are these kids not home doing their homework? Why  aren’t they setting the table or helping out around the house?  Who allows their kids of hang out in parking lots? Isn’t that loitering?

I wish there was a song called “Nguyen and Ari,” a little ditty about a hardworking Vietnamese girl who helps her parents with the franchised Holiday Inn they run, and does homework in the lobby, and Ari, a hardworking Jewish boy who does volunteer work at his grandmother’s old-age home, and they meet after school at Princeton Review. They help each other study for the SATs and different AP courses, and then, after months of studying, and mountains of flashcards, they kiss chastely upon hearing the news that they both got into their top college choices.  This is a song teens need to inadvertently memorize.

Go get this book, enjoy it now that you’ve finished Bossypants , and join me as I wait for Aisha Tyler (Dartmouth) or Amy Poehler (Boston College) to write a book soon! Fingers crossed.

Bossypants by Tina Fey / Review

11 Jun

  I have been dying to read Bossypants but have been equally reluctant to shell out $25 for the hardcover. Since my local library doesn’t have it either, I resorted to borrowing it from a student. It was well worth the borrow.

In many ways, it’s probably what you’re expecting — a series of strangely insightful funniness. Each chapter is like a little essay — a format I love that makes for super-speedy reading. I read more than half of the book waiting in the lobby of a doctor’s office.

While the memoir spans from her childhood, to UVa (!!!), to Second City in Chicago, to SNL and 30 Rock, my favorite bits were about her time working for Lorne Michaels at Saturday Night Live and, in particular, the epic adventure of being coerced into playing Sarah Palin on the show while simlutaneously raising a young daughter and getting 30 Rock off the ground.

For comedy memoir, this was a great book!

Hipster Christianity by Brett McCracken / Review

14 Mar

 I picked up this book at a very-sadly-closing Borders Friday night based solely on how hard the book’s promotional website made me laugh at work on Friday.  Let me say from the outset — I understand that this won’t be a book everyone rushes to read. It’s a niche book — a niche which happens to interest me — so, I won’t be offended if you don’t take my recommendation because it doesn’t interest you.

More sociology of religion than religon, McCracken undertakes a journalistic approach to dissecting the newest trend in Christianity — hipster Christianity. Mostly as a reaction to the capitalistic mass culture of WWJD bracelets and contemporary Christian music, the new wave of hipster Christians are much more invested in the traditions and history of the church — it’s mysticism rather than it’s sanitized, popular appeal. Rather than simplifying Christianity, hipster Christians seek to replace the mysteryand confusing conundrums of the faith, claiming that these are as intrinsic as the basics of the Gospel.

McCracken’s work is well-balanced, neither lauding or condemning the movement. Rather, he seeks to understand its underpinings and its reactionary nature. I think anyone interested in religion and religious culture would be interested in this read. The first three chapters on the “history of cool” are entirely skimmable, if not skippable, but overall this is a really interesting exploration of a faith movement.  I read it in one, short sitting.

Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell / Review

25 Dec

  So, remember when I was going to read Villette and nothing but Villette for the rest of 2010? And then I got distracted by my friend’s copy of The Forgotten Garden.

And, well, while  The Forgotten Garden isn’t exactly Bronte, it is a period novel based in England about a young woman’s coming of age.   So it seemed too muddy to pick Villette up again so close on the heels of Morton’s novel.

Then there’s the fact that my dear book club does a book exchange each Christmas. This year, I picked up Sarah Vowell’s memoir cum history text cum travel guide Assassination Vacation. My husband was in need of reading material last week, and, being a history buff, I sacrificially offered him the first reading — assuming he promised not to break the spine so that I could do it myself.

He got through a lot of it, but when I finished The Forgotten Garden I grabbed it back … you know, as a literary pallette cleanser so that I can get back to the real work of Bronte. ;)

Assassination Vacation takes a peek into the assassinations of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley. Unlike other books in this travememistory genre (awesome word, right?), Vowell doesn’t really have a guiding principle  or question compelling her through her trip, promising a golden answer at the end. No, she is self-admittedly obsessed with death, obsessed with presidential history, and obsessed with the nuance of assassination. And that’s justification enough for her travels.

Through the book, Vowell travels to just about every single U.S. spot of significance in these three assassinations — from homes to memorials to pieces of presidential skull.   Yes, this does sound deathly boring , but Vowell’s biting humor and political commentary do a number on the dry history of little-known presidents like Garfield and McKinley. Take, for  example, her encounter in D.C., trying to locate the home of Major Henry Rathbone, company of President Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre on the night he was shot:

…I go inside, asking the receptionist to confirm if this was once the house of Major Henry Rathbone.

            “I don’t know, “ she answers. “Who’s he?”

            I tell her that Henry Rathbone and his fiancée/stepsister Clara Harris were in the box with the Lincolns the night of the assassination; that Rathbone was the first person to realize what booth had done; that when he tried to stop Booth from escaping, Booth knifed Rathbone’s arm.

            “Around here,” she says, “for someone like that, there’s usually a plaque.”

            I tell her that Rathbone never fully recovered; that he was actually blamed for not stopping Booth; that he went slowly insane; that Clara married him anyway and had his children; that when Henry insisted on moving to Germany, she agreed, hoping the change would do him good; that crazy Henry shot and killed Clara in Germany just as Booth had shot Lincoln; that he would have killed their children too if a nanny hadn’t stopped him; that by the way one of those kids lived to become a congressman from Illinois who, in 1926, introduced the bill to purchase the collection of artifacts in the Ford’s Theatre Lincoln Museum; that Henry was committed to a German insane asylum, which is where he died; and that they don’t really put up plaques about things like that, though Thomas Mallon did write a good novel on the subject called Henry and Clara.

            “Oh, that guy,” says the receptionist. “Yes, he lived here.”

I laughed out loud at least once every other page, and for a girl who does not easily laugh aloud whilst reading — this is an accomplishment indeed.

I really have no quibbles with Assassination Vacation, only curiosities. For instance, I am surprised that while JFK is briefly mentioned here or there, he, who arguably had the most famous of all presidential assassinations, does not warrant a chapter in the book. It’s curious. Does Vowell simply feel like enough has been written on JFK’s assassination? If so, then why include Lincoln, whose assassination has also been mulled over ad infinitum? Though thoroughly funny and fascinating, I often wonderered at what Vowell would consider to be the big ideas of this books — beyond “Here are three presidents. They were killed. Let’s go on a road trip.”

Still, even without an over-arching mission or sense of purpose, Vowell’s travel memoir will not disappoint even the most  reticent reader of history! For me, this was a big win. Thanks book club book exchange! :)

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot / Review

1 Nov

 I have had The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks  on my TBR pile since last winter when it was released and book blogs went  a-buzzin’.  I knew it would be good; many, many bloggers I follow and respect promised it would be so. And still, I’m not a passionate non-fiction reader, and I’m definitely not excited by reading about cells and DNA. So the book sat.

This fall, the IB biology teacher at my school approached me about doing an interdisciplinary unit with IB English students. I jumped at the chance, and then had to read it.

Here’s what I think:

WOWZA!

I absolutely devoured Skloot’s account of the Henrietta Lacks — an African-American woman who died of cervial cancer at Johns Hopkins in the 1950s. Unbeknownst to her or her family,  Hopkins doctors took cancer cells from her body and grew them in culture. Henrietta’s cells, named HeLa, became the first cells to live and reproduce in culture! Thus, medical tissue research began in earnest.

Many doctors consider this moment to be the most important in medical history. With HeLa cells, doctors have studied not only cancer, but found cures and vaccines for countless other diseases. Today,  HeLa cells could cover the entire earth.

And the Lacks family didn’t know about it for twenty years. Even then, largely impoverished and uneducated, the Lacks family couldn’t understand how their beloved wife and mother was long-dead, but parts of her were living all over the world in medical facilities. And no one made any attempt to explain it to them.

Rebecca Skloot, a science journalist, set out to tell the story of the woman behind the cells. In the process, she tells the story of the Lacks family and how adversely impacted they have been because of the dissemination of HeLa cells and the lack of efficacy they have had in the process.

This book is absolutely educational — I learned more about DNA, cell division and reproduction, and cancer than I ever learned in high school biology! But it is also and intensely human story — about faith, pain, and injustice.

This is a book well-worthy of book evangelism. I will be passing it around to every reader I know! I can’t wait to dig into it with our students! This is a 5-star book for sure!

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris / Review

3 Oct

Usually, when I miss a trendy literary bandwagon in its naissance I react by avoiding it completely. Thus why I have never read The Da Vinci Code or any of the Harry Potter series. I don’t have a particular beef with either, I just missed the first waves of excitement, so I never felt a part of it. Or wanted a part of it.

And so it was with David Sedaris.

However, after hearing yet another witty essay by David Sedaris on NPR recently, I took the plunge and borrowed my very first Sedaris collection, Me Talk Pretty One Day.  In this amalgam of essays, Sedaris muses on his characteristic out-of-placeness, bookended by his experiences with a speech therapist in elementary school and his emigration to France in his 40s.

It’s hilarious. I wouldn’t say that lightly. I almost never laugh out loud while reading. But I laughed and laughed and laughed — in this midst of a terrible cold I lay in bed laughing, during September Back-to-School nonsense I laughed.  Sedaris is witty, keenly observant, and self-deprecating in his humor. My only regret in reading this was that, sadly, none of his delightful, voice-filled essays is appropriate for my high schoolers to study.

I highly recommend David Sedaris if, like me, you have not yet taken the leap. I am now officially on the bandwagon.

Proust’s Overcoat by Lorenza Foschini / Review

15 Aug

 Proust’s Overcoat is an unusual little book.  Not to say that it isn’t interesting; in fact, I was surprised how very interesting a book about a man who collected Proust’s worldly possessions could be.

It’s hard to categorize this book — it’s a the true story of Jacques Guerin, a wealthy parfumier who became obsessed with collecting Proust paraphernalia. His quest was not solely relegated to manuscripts — no, Guerin’s fascination (which seemed to be more with the man himself than the literature he created)  extended to Proust’s furniture, furnishing, and, indeed, the overcoat he was famed for wearing in bed as he wrote. 

Proust’s Overcoat is partially the story of Jacques Guerin’s passion, partially the story of the politics of the Proust family, and partially the story of the things themselves. Most of the items in the collection would have likely been destroyed and forgotten had it not been for Guerin’s motivation to track them down and save them.

Most interesting to me was Foschini’s role in the book. She frames it almost as a fable of literary zeal, a lesson more about the art of the pursuit of a quest than the object of the quest itself. While it appears that she did some research for the book, most of it covers the story she was told about Guerin’ by a third party. It’s as though she just recorded a good story she heard once and thought others might enjoy.

I did enjoy it. It was interesting and accessible, an amusing fact considering how inaccessible Proust is generally regarded to be.  It’s a good book about love of books and love of writers and the need for preservation of both.  At just 120 pages, I would recommend it to anyone who loves literature. I’m off to pick up Swann’s Way. :)

Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell / Review

2 Jun

 Hello! I have missed you! I have seriously missed books.  After reading 300 essays on Nineteen Eighty-Four, I am beyond excited to share some thoughts on a book of a completely different hue.

In Outliers (which I read over the excruciatingly long period of nearly three weeks), journalist Malcolm Gladwell seeks to uncover secrets of success. According to Gladwell, success is no secret, and neither is it a matter of simply working hard and trying one’s best. In that sense, Gladwell contends that the American dream is a lie.

Rather, Gladwell walks readers through examples from throughout American history that all show how success is largely a combination of being in the right place at the right time. He uses examples such as the birthdates of hockey players and computer bazillionaires to show that working hard is only a small path to greatness.

I found this read completely fascinating. Gladwell’s style is engaging, and, in spite of any misgivings you may have, most readers will soon find themselves entirely convinced. Gladwell has received some criticism for overly simplifying and generalizing his claims; while this may be true, his book is nonetheless engaging and thought-provoking. I hope to use this book with some of my IB students in the future — not only to help them process the concept of success, but also to teach how any argument can be convincing if it is written with persuasion.

I plan to pick up Gladwell’s other books!  Have you read them? (The Tipping Point, Blink, What the Dog Saw …?) Which would you recommend?

Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert / Review

7 Apr

 I don’t envy Elizabeth Gilbert the task of following-up Eat, Pray, Love. The book is so popular and so uber-beloved that Julia Roberts herself is playing Gilbert in the hotly anticipated film adaption, for goodness sake!  Aside from an Oprah endorsement (though it has that, too), what more could a book ask for than Julia Roberts’ guffaw attached to it? 

But, here it is — Gilbert’s big follow-up.  In the “love” section of Eat, Pray, Love, Gilbert meets and falls for Brazilian Felipe while traveling in Bali. When we rejoin Gilbert in Committed, their relationship has both intensified and solidified. Elizabeth + Felipe = true love.  Sadder-but-wiser from their respective nasty divorces, the duo vow to love each other passionately and to never, under any circumstances, get married.

Until U.S. Immigration services gets involved and bans Felipe from entry into the United States. Their best advice? Get married.  As Gilbert puts it, an engagement  “more like something out of Kafka than out of Austen” (19).

While they battle the red tape of FBI investigations and immigration interviews, Felipe and Gilbert stay in limbo by traveling around southeast asia.  Gilbert, ever the journalist, uses her travels as an opportunity to extensively study not only the history of marriage, but also the sociological and anthropological implications of marriage in cultures and religions around the globe.

Let me just say — what she finds out is fascinating. Most of the book can be summed up in the book’s subtitle — Gilbert making peace with the institution of marriage. More non-fiction than memoir (although there are strong memoir overtones), Gilbert dives deep into what makes marriage tick, what makes it disastrous, and how we as a culture have arrived at our assumptions concerning matrimony (like, for example, the fact it’s called “matrimony” and not “patrimony” — the mother-making aspect of marriage is assumed in its very title!).

Interestingly, when my friends and I read Eat, Pray, Love, we were unanimous in our enthusiasm for “Eat” and “Pray”….but not so much for “Love”. In our reading,  Gilbert loses something of herself again when she meets Felipe, and the book as a slightly more fairy-tale esque ending than felt warrented. (I realize it was a true story … there’s not a lot she could do about that. ) Thus, I approached Committed with trepidation. But I fell in love with funny, honest Gilbert all over again — in fact, I found the newly-found, self-confident Gilbert in Committed more likeable than her seeking Eat, Pray, Love counterpart.   A speedy, informative, funny read, Gilbert’s fans will not be disappointed!

In the Land of Believers by Gina Welch / Review

27 Feb

 In a dogged pursuit of what makes Evangelicals tick, writer Gina Welch went undercover as a believer for two years in late pastor Jerry Falwell’s Thomas Road Baptist Church. And Welch went in pretty much all the way — going so far as to “get saved” (though she never sways from her assertion that she is an atheist), being baptized, and going on a mission trip to Alaska.  Welch immerses herself in the Christian life of Thomas Road-ers, going to Sunday and Wednesday services and a singles’ ministry called EPIC.  To her own surprise, she not only make close friends but also finds her own heart changing — cynicism melting away into peacefullness and punk rock music on her iPod switching ever-so-slowly to Christian praise songs.

In fact, while Welch is not “converted”, she does begin to gain an understanding of the personal connections that bring believers together and keep them together. Though she makes no bones about the fact that she does not — not even for a second — question her lack of belief, she understands the swell of emotion that a worship service can elicit. She writes,

Singing the song at the very back of the packed sanctuary, in the wake of a service celebrating family, history, and hope, losing my orientation for a moment on the map of politics, emotion began to surve inside me. It was the first instance in which I was overcome by what I eventually came to think of as Feeling X.

I had never had Feeling X before. It wasn’t happiness or sorrow, adrenalin or peace; it wasn’t love or lust or misery or hate. It felt like the awakening of a new organ, an organ like the one described in a chapter on conversion by the thirteenth-century French mystic Bernard Clairvaux: ‘the ear of the heart.’ That was about right. (70)

In the Land of Believers recounts Welch’s observations about the Evangelical mindset and lifestyle in addition to her own journey toward understanding and acceptance of those whose religious and political persuasions radical counter her own.  While she doesn’t find a new faith through her two-year project, she does find enlightenment, fellowship, and a new kind of open-mindedness.

One of the cardinal rules of teaching is that you must give each student credit for what he or she achieves; you can’t deduct points from Bobby’s paper because it is less amazing thans Jimmy’s. Everyone gets scored on his or her own merits, not on a sliding comparative scale. Still. I read In the Land of Believers only one month since I read Kevin Roose’s Jerry-Falwell memoir The Unlikely Disciple (which I loved). I would love to be a purely unbiased super reviewer, but, alas, it is VERY hard not to compare. 

Beyond the bias of having recently read a book very similar to this, I also will admit to the same bias I acknowledged when I reviewed Roose’s book — I grew up visiting Liberty. I went to church camps there. I interviewed there for the summer camp job at which I met my husband. My father knew Jerry Falwell. Though I, too, stand against parts of the Fundamentalist ideology (and most of Falwell’s politics and public denouncements), there is still a sense of personal connection for me that is hard to forget.

My misgivings involve Welch’s method rather than her craft. Although Welch goes forward in church to accept Christ and is baptized, she seems to always stop just short of throwing herself in fully. While both began their quest as outsiders and non-believers, the distinction between Roose’s memoir and Welch’s non-fiction is clear — Roose wanted to see what Evangelical life is like on a personal level; Welch proceeds as an undercover anthropologist, observing rather than wholly experiencing.

Probably due to this (big) distinction, I felt there was something more compelling about Roose’s book than Welch’s. Both writers come to similar conclusions — that Evangelicals are generally ultra-conservative, but warm, affectionate, human and surprisingly diverse. There was levity and joy in Roose’s book that I didn’t find in Welch’s (sometimes tortured) account of her experience in faith and deception. I passed The Unlikely Disciple on to friends and family members to read; I don’t think I will be passing In the Land of Believers on with the same fervor.

In the Land of Believers is, nonetheless, a very fascinating read. And let’s be honest – a lot (most?) great books aren’t “happy” and “fun”.  Welch’s experience of learning to fit in and then learning to give up the fellowship of Thomas Road Baptist Church is compelling and sometimes even a little heart-breaking.  Welch’s book is incredibly well-written; clearly this woman is a writer writer.  I will excitedly read what she comes out with next.

* I read this book through an ARC sent to me by the publisher. Thanks! *

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