The book *reading* goal has been going along swimmingly; the *writing* goal? Not so much. So here we have another installment of Overwhelmed by Reviews. Let's get to it.
1. Women Food and God by Geneen Roth.
I wanted to like this more than I did. I picked up a lot of good nuggets, to be sure, but overall, it was lacking. It had way more "women and food" and way less "God" than I was expecting - which, while not a bad thing, was kind of not the point.
What I found most compelling was this notion: "When we realize that the stories we are haunted by are simply that - stories - we can be with what we actually feel directly, now, in our bodies." I live a lot in my head; I think many of us do, in the modern industrialized world. Our thoughts supersede our lived, bodily experience, and that can sometimes twist us all around. By learning to come back to our bodies in the present moment - rather than relying on the stories our brains tell us about how we felt about a similar situation in the past - we can ground our feelings and better understand them.
2. The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean.
Another one I expected to enjoy a lot more than I did. Orchids? Some of my favorite flowers! Journalistic investigations? One of my favorite genres! Eccentric characters? Some of my favorite people! But it just didn't coalesce for me. It got bogged down in places by names and historical details (and you know how I feel about that), and didn't really ever seem to reflect on the wider ramifications or teachings that roaming the Fakahatchee swamp with an orchid thief might teach.
But she was right about one thing, for sure: "The marvelous plant world. We are but visitors in it."
3. Irena's Children by Tilar Mazzeo.
This one was a surprise in the opposite direction: I loved it, against all odds that I wouldn't. One of my main reading rules is Do Not Read Things Involving Nazis. My reasons are two-fold: If well-written, I'll be extremely depressed and anxious; if poorly written, it's an annoying Heightens The Drama plot device.
BUT. Irena's Children was as hopeful as it was distressing, as gripping as it was informative. It tells the tale of Irena Sendler, who herself was instrumental in saving many Jewish children from the Warsaw ghetto. More than that, though, it tells the story of the Polish Resistance, of the ordinary men and women who did extraordinary things in the face of terrifying danger and depravity. This line especially struck me: "[T]he draconian consequences [being shot for aiding a Jew] also meant, as Irena could not help but observe, that one might as well do more than just smuggle in vaccines. You could only die once."
The author was at pains to point out the human failings of Irena and her compatriots, not wishing to paint a superhuman picture of them and their accomplishments. This was well done, as it kept them real and understandable - people that can be admired and emulated.
4. The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery.
What a delightful book - this was what I was expecting out of #2. The author described the world of the octopus in magical, informative ways. She also talked about the nature of intelligence and consciousness, the excitement at discovering hitherto unknown things, and shared a love for something that personally, I will probably never do - diving. Montgomery sums it up well with just six words: "There's nothing as peculiar as an octopus."
5. Jesus the Christ by James E. Talmadge.
The accomplishment I'm most proud of from last month is reading this 800 page behemoth. Small print, densely-set pages at that. While I didn't find every bit compelling (I really couldn't care less where exactly in the Middle East Christ's life took place, nor the debates surrounding it), there was a lot of interesting stuff packed in. I especially enjoyed the cultural and historical notes about the Jewish culture of the time.
6. Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward.
This was a sad memoir about a woman's experience with death in her Black community. She writes concisely about grief and loss, about poverty and powerlessness, about cycles of pain and degradation.
***
Partially completed:
1. On Edge by Andrea Petersen. A memoir of, as well as scientific look at, anxiety. It didn't really speak to my experience, and I found it rather boring.
***
xo,
Devo
No comments:
Post a Comment