Wishful Slacker

A book, a movie, and girls' night

 

Books books books!

I have been on a semi-reading hiatus the past few months, partly because Ellie's recent developmental phase led me astray.  Diving into a lovely memoir or riveting piece of fiction took a back seat to reading up on sleeping habits and toddler feeding.  Then, after I got these areas somewhat smoothed over, I turned to Super Freakonomics, a brilliant book, but one that quickly led me to sleepiness in the nighttime hours.  It is a good book, don't get me wrong.  I encourage others to read it themselves.  But it is a thinky book.  And sometimes thinky makes me sleepy.  In that order :-)  Bottom line- it took me a long time to get through it.

I asked for many, many books for Christmas, and with delight I received almost all of them and then some!  In addition, I have several that have been lent to me that I still need to go through as well.  The weekend before the holidays began, Ellie woke up and decided, "Hey, I think I can reach the next shelf up on the bookcase!"  On a day when we meant to wrap up our holiday preparations and to also take it easy, we instead had to scramble to find new homes for our books before the great demolisher decided to yank them down and rip out all their pages.  The only direction left to take was up, so up went a whole row of our books, butting out whatever lovely trinkets and decorations had previously graced the purposefully-open spots on our higher shelves.  Once we could not squeeze one more book on a shelf, the remaining ones had to be turned sideways and crammed into the inches of free space left.  We now have the most top-heavy book collection in the city (and we are thankful that we screwed our bookcases into the wall as part of our baby proofing).  And my efforts to create a nice decorative bookcase?  Turned to dust.  Remember the good ole days?

The third bookshelf.  Stuffed animals where books used to be

Our great bookcase redesign occurred BEFORE I brought home my new wonderful book gifts, so now I have a pile stacked next to my bed, because there is no where else to put them.  I am feeling a bit bohemian, surrounded by all these piles. 
Here's what I received for Christmas:
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller
The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman by Bruce Robinson
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
Triumph of the City by Edward Glaeser
The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver
Clara's War by Clara Kramer
Dancing with Mrs. Dalloway by Celia Blue Johnson

My previous list of borrowed books that I still need to read includes:
The Power of Two by Isabel Stenzel Byrnes and Anabel Stenzel
In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson
The Great Bridge by David McCullough

Isn't it all exciting? I am pretty excited about it!

But the title of this post isn't about any of that, really.  It is instead about one of the other books lent to me, by my mother, to be precise- The Paris Wife, by Paula McLain.  I cannot say enough about how good this book is.  The writing is just spectacular.  The last book I raved about here, Evening Is the Whole Day, was written by an author who got her MFA from the University of Michigan.  Lo and behold, McLain did as well.  The Paris Wife is about Ernest Hemingway's first marriage to Hadley Richardson, told in first person from Hadley's point of view.  It is Paris in the 1920s, and I could not put this book down (what also helped with that was my hope to finish it at my parents' house, thus freeing up an ounce of space in our present-laden CRV for the ride home.  Unfortunately, I was about two days too late in being able to accomplish this, and The Paris Wife is still at my side in Chicago). 

Here's where the story gets good.  The night before I finished Paris Wife, my husband and I decided to watch Woody Allen's movie Midnight in Paris, which is now available for rent off of Apple TV.  Oh my God, seriously, watch this movie while you are reading The Paris Wife.  It is a perfect match.  Midnight in Paris is such a fun movie, and it features everything you read about in The Paris Wife.  I was on cloud 9 (though it doesn't take much anymore).  We paused it midway through when we were overcome with a strong desire to drink some wine. 

Because this book and movie pair so well together, I came up with an idea.  I think it would be fabulous for a group of friends or a book club to read The Paris Wife, then get together to discuss the book, drink some wine, and then finish off the night by watching Midnight in Paris.  Make everyone bring some type of 20s-inspired hors d'oeuvre or dessert (there are plenty of examples throughout the book), and just have fun.  It would be fab, as long as no one goes overboard and acts like Zelda Fitzgerald.  :-)



Hadley and Ernest Hemingway in Chamby, Switzerland, 1922. Photograph: Ernest Hemingway Photograph Collection, John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/feb/20/paris-wife-paula-mclain-review

Evening Is The Whole Day

I had to pick up the baby early from daycare on Thursday for her 9 month pediatric check up.  For some reason (and my husband experienced this as well on the Brown line as he rode to Lincoln Park to meet us), the entire trip down to her daycare center at Wells and Division and back up to Diversey and Sheffield was pure bedlam.  I pulled my first of two illegal U-turns for the week (I am getting good at that now) and dodged a plethera of bikers, delivery vans, and pedestrians who just decided they would go ahead and cross the street where ever they wanted and that all cars around them would naturally give them the right of way.  Drives me nuts.  You know back in the days of traveling kiddie fairs and the Snow White ride at Disney World where all of these obstacles dart out at your little car as it clunks along a clickety track through the dark?  That is what driving in this city is like sometimes. 

While I was trying not to run anyone over by traveling up Lincoln Avenue, there was a very interesting show that came on NPR.  It was a man (didn't catch his name, of course) talking about word choices, and how so many words are cliché and inappropriate to describe the emotional intensity of a situation.  He cited words like "amazing" and "gorgeous" as falling into the category of being over-used and poor choices, and ever since then the only words I can think of to describe my daughter popping up to a stand or looking pretty in a dress are amazing and gorgeous.  I would really love to listen to the segment again but for the life of me cannot find it on the NPR website.  It was on at 1:45 pm, Thursday, August 11.  The more time that goes by between now and then, the less my chances are of finding it.  It is radio, after all. 

The segment came at a good time though, as I was nearing the end of what has been an amazing (damnit!) book- Evening Is The Whole Day by Preeta Samarasan.  This is a book of many gorgeous (damnit!) words.  Set in Malaysia in the late 70s and early 80s, the story follows a family and a servant that comes to take care of the aging matriarch of the family.  Only it is not just that primary storyline that grabs you, it is the way that Samarasan manages to paint their history leading up to those moments.  For every action of the main plotline, you understand the hidden feelings and pains that simmer beneath the surface for the characters.  Throughout the book you can feel and sense the smells and textures around them.  I found I stopped complaining about the summer heat while reading this :-)

 
I learned after reading it that Samarasan is a graduate of the University of Michigan (whoo hoo!) where she earned her MFA, and that she perfected her novel during her time there.  The way that Evening Is The Whole Day goes back and forth in time is truly breathtaking.  The tenses shift so slightly that they are easily missed, and we readers are taken two years ahead, twenty years back, and back to present day with such fluidity and ease that it is a truly amazing (damnit!) demonstration of her brilliance.  It would be a great book to study together in a writing or lit class, and if I ever have time in my life to reread this and to create a timeline as I go along, I think that allow me to gain even greater appreciation.

Which- as an aside- now that I own an ereader, I am torn sometimes as to the best way to experience a book.  I read this on my Kindle, but I think I'd want to read the actual paperback novel next time around to allow me greater ease in flipping back and forth.  It is difficult to do that with a Kindle.  However, the Kindle was fantastic for allowing me to quickly look up words that I didn't recognize, which was a vast collection.  The vocabulary in this book is unbelievable.  If I knew half of these delightful words, then I wouldn't be stuck using amazing to describe everything. 

Samarasan writes so beautifully.  Her sentences take you for such a ride, and her metaphors and similes are just perfect.  The family's culture transends so well through their mannerisms and dialogue.  Here are some excerpts that I highlighted:

"Aasha threw herself down on the marble floor and loosed a wordless series of ascending wails that floated like bright scarves- purple, fuchsia, puce- towards the ceiling, to be blown into the street by the fan as Amma set the chair down by the dustbin and shook her head."

"Oh, she's caught forty winks here and a catnap there, but the winks are carefully rationed, thirty-eight thirty-nine forty okay enough, and the catnaps are not the cozy indulgences of the happy housepet but the vigilant sleep of the one-eye-open one-ear-missing stray."

"At the front gate, Appa's voice is like a pair of scissors on smooth cloth, snip-snip-snip-snip, a voice he reserves for all the undesirables of this world, the theatrical tramps, the limping armies who offer unwanted parking assistance outside his office, the glib urchins who rush towards his already clean windscreen with wet rags."

If anyone else reads Evening Is The Whole Day and wishes to discuss it further, let me know!  I would love to hear others' thoughts. 

I also found this interview with Samarasan that looks interesting :-)

And next on the reading list, Midnight Riot by Ben Aaronovitch.

A Tale of Finishing A Tale of Two Cities

Update: I finally finished reading A Tale of Two Cities this past week.  The ending is really incredible, and I have to say that my overall impression of the novel is quite positive.  Sure, it took me 4 months.  Sure, I sometimes couldn't keep anything straight.  Perhaps that was all more a reflection of my foggy "I've been playing with a baby all day" brain than anything else.  I do have so much respect for the way Dickens writes, and his character development in A Tale of Two Cities was quite amazing.  Man, those Defarges.  Man, oh man.  Just thinking of them gives me the chills!

Last night I even dreamt about the guillotine.  In fact, looking back now, I feel it that the guillotine entered the dream rather matter-of-factly.  Which is somewhat strange, isn't it, to have a matter-of-fact dream about the guillotine?

Bath tub reading

I have been having the HARDEST time posting onto this site recently.  This post, for example, is the product of three separate abandoned attempts to sit down and churn out something that has been dancing in my head the entire weekend.  Such actions have proven to be very difficult, especially now that Eleanor is moving ALL over our living room, which would be fine and I could let her be were it not for the sharp edges of our side tables and that annoying space beneath the couch that she continuously slides beneath.  It's a trap and our baby-in-residence has not yet mastered the ability to put her little body in reverse.  One thing I am learning about babies- they do not enjoy getting stuck.  But anyways, there is no big rush on the weekends, so why not sit back and watch this little mover as she covers vast amounts of space through the act of determined wiggling? 



But, again, when you've been hoping to create a blog post when an idea hits your head, like you used to in the good ole' days, but can't, it is like having an itch you can't scratch.  Once I do find the opportunity, I am often exhausted and my muse is squashed.  I set off this weekend to try and find a used baby playzone through Craigslist, so that the baby can have a little play area to herself with no immediate dangers around the corner, and Jim and I can actually simultaneously get ready on work mornings (gasp!) without one of us standing over the living room acting as a sentry.  We were in contact with someone and were all teed up to go pick one up this afternoon, when the seller emailed me late last night to say it was no longer available.  Oh, just drive a spear through my heart why don't you?!  Craigslist is coming up empty on any others (both for Chicago AND Detroit), so our baby hovering will continue (and I will never be on time for work again). 

The vast percentage of my reading over the past year has been from the baby genre, but I'm always in the middle of a book for recreation.  During my maternity leave I plowed through The Hunger Games trilogy (for new moms out there, I'd wait until your baby is at least 6 months old before tackling The Hunger Games.  For weeks I feared that the Capitol of Panem was coming to snatch my newborn from me).  After that I needed a change of pace, and in my quest to tackle some of the classics, I chose A Tale of Two Cities next.  I have been reading it for about the past 4 months and can now say that I am about 65% of the way through (or so says the tracker on my Kindle).  I CANNOT get myself through this book.  Each night before bed I am able to read about one paragraph before needing to call it a night.  And with that pace, each night when I "open" the book (what does one say when reading a book on a Kindle? I "turn on" the book?), I can't remember what has been happening in the section before, so need to rewind a couple pages to get caught up again.  And I need a reading group or Cliff's Notes or something.  Are the Marquis and the Monseigneur the same person?  What is the point of that lawyer friend who is always hanging around the doctor?  I just realized in typing this that there are Sparknotes online that I might need to read!

Yesterday morning the baby went down for her nap and I decided to take a bath.  One of my favorite nice things to do for myself is to sit in a hot bath with a good book and a beverage (sometimes it is wine, yesterday it was my morning coffee).  While the Kindle is likely not the best choice for anything aquatic, I have an ongoing paperback "bath time book," which at the moment is Barbara Kingsolver's High Tide in Tucson, a collection of essays.  Having a book of essays as your bath time book is really quite perfect- by the time you have finished reading an essay the water has gone lukewarm and the baby starts to stir from her nap.  Not to mention that your comprehension withstands reading gaps of several weeks (as much as I would enjoy taking a nice bath numerous times a week, it just doesn't happen). 

This is about the third or fourth time I have gone through High Tide.  It was first gifted to me in high school by an English teacher, and then we reviewed it in an undergraduate writing class under the direction of another favorite teacher (you know who you are <3).  This collection was also frequently mentioned during an essay class that I took at Story Studio Chicago.  I have found that anyone who likes these essays is someone I would like too.  My tub read yesterday morning was "Civil Disobedience At Breakfast" (found on page 85), and I forgot how much I love this essay about motherhood.  "...the motto of my youth blazed resplendent on my breakfast table, the color of Florida sunshine" is the sentence that clinched it for me the very first time I read it.  Barbara Kingsolver's writing is such an art, it sometimes takes my breath away. 

Combing through "Civil Disobedience at Breakfast" yesterday morning was even better than the first time I read it, because I now have a child of my own.  We are not yet at the point of tipping orange juice onto the breakfast table, but I know those days are coming (and I think it's hard getting out the door on time now????  Just you wait, Lindsay....).   Reading about Kingsolver's thoughts about her fragile newborn being an extension of herself (Yes! I get that!) to suddenly acquiring her own will and independence (who keeps getting stuck beneath the couch???) so resonates with me, even though we haven't hit the one year mark yet. 

Almost every single ounce of me has changed since having a baby.  I love my baby girl more than I could ever have imagined- it wells up within me at the slightest thought and in any situation.  At work, when I see a mother in clinic holding her child, I can sense my own baby's chubby-soft leg beneath my hand, or hear her sweet sighs as she softly squeezes my arm.  Pre-baby, I was never really distracted by or understood the depth of love that lay hidden in those gentle caresses between a parent and his child. 

I am a part-time working mom.  I think it is good that I am able to do all of this- to get away and attempt to regain myself as an adult doing the work that I spent so much of my twenties prepping for.  I am grateful for my work, but there are times when the act of sitting at my desk as though I don't have a baby seems like I am faking.  Are my working and mothering roles mutually exclusive?  That line between working and mothering becomes further blurred as I hide out in the corner of my shared office and pump, and then waste time walking all the parts to the bathroom to rinse.  In the past, discussions with my work friends often led to plans to catch happy hour across the street after work.  But nowadays if someone asks me what I've been up to, I am more inclined to reply, "well, I have been thinking about if we should try out the Baby K'tan or the Ergo carrier instead of the snap n' go when we run our errands."  If the topic isn't on baby, I sometimes don't even know about what to talk about instead. 

Friday evening as I drove the baby home from daycare, I passed a couple walking home from Pequods.  One of them clutched that characteristically wrapped cardboard plate of leftovers that I know so well, along a satisfied walk home that I used to know so well.  Jim and I would take turns holding that awkwardly shaped package of amazingness as we walked through the summer dim of street lights and looked into living room windows of the homes we passed.  As the couple crossed the four-way stop ahead of the line of cars that I had been sitting in for our entire trip home, tears sprang to my eyes.  I am not lying.  A couple walking home with their Pequods leftovers actually made me cry.  Immediately following this reaction was my thought that perhaps it is now time to shop for a babysitter. 

I do feel at times like I am going crazy with this transition, but at other times this new life feels as natural as putting on a pair of thick socks on a winter morning.  I love weekends spent with the three of us sitting together on the floor, yet an instant later I find myself yearning and missing that life of spontaneity and fun that we left.  I do think that this craziness is, for the most part, normal, and therefore continue to ease my way through these days.  I am thankful of so many things, particularly my husband for listening to my almost constant musings about being new parents.  And the ability to soak in the tub from time to time. 

So, on that note, we will continue on with our Sunday morning.  It will likely involve a myriad of baby toys, a lot of rolling over, and an occasional need for repositioning after reaching a dead end.  And perhaps a Pequods carry out....

For anyone interested in reading "Civil Disobedience at Breakast," I found it online through Google books :-)  Enjoy the day!   


 

A Good Read

I'm trying to whip up this post quickly as I can hear the baby stirring from her nap.  Type woman, type!

I came home one evening from work when I was very, very pregnant and discovered a gift bag waiting for me at my spot on the couch.  There was a sweet card from my husband, who was working late that night, and I was tremendously surprised when I looked inside the bag to find a new Amazon Kindle ereader!  Just for me!  Apparently my moaning throughout the night as I rose to pee for the 17th time or tried turning over in bed like some beached whale "kindled" enough sympathy from my husband to lead to that very nice surprise! 

I have been very impressed with the Kindle and really appreciate it now that I have the baby.  The size of the Kindle is perfect for me and fits so nicely in one hand.  I knew that I would never choose an ipad as my only ereading device because it's simply too large to comfortably hold while kicking back on the couch (not to mention how expensive it is).  The appearance of the text on the Kindle is great- you really forget that it's different than a paperback book in your hand.  You can move the cursor around the page to get an instant defintion of a word, which I used often just recently when reading Dickens' A Christmas Carol (which I got as a free download, as you can through Amazon for many classic books).  I always like to physically see my progress as the bookmark moves deeper and deeper through a book, and I feel that I can get a similar experience on the Kindle by looking at the bottom of the page, where it tells you what percentage of the book you have read. 

With the Kindle, I can keep the baby propped in one hand and read in the other.  I don't need to keep a book held open or use a second hand to turn a page.  We got rid of cable several years ago, and those of you stuck at home during the day know that daytime tv can be almost unbearable at times.  So having an easy way to read has been great!

Now, I ended up with a second great ereading surprise.  I had taken a research survey MONTHS ago through my professional organization and to entice people to complete the survey the researchers announced that there would be a drawing for an ipad.  The Monday before we had Eleanor, I received an email saying that I had won!  I couldn't believe it, and upon returning home from the hospital my brand new ipad sat waiting for me. 

I am loving both devices now.  Of course the ipad is also great to have for times when I'm sitting on the couch with the baby and want to web surf (and I don't mind the size of it as much when I am web-surfing as compared to wanting something compact for a long period of leisurely reading).  There is so much you can do on the ipad that I haven't really even gotten around to doing.  But I now also use the ipad for reading at night when we're in bed and the lights are dimmed.  The Kindle is not back-lit, so there are limitations there when it comes to reading when everyone else has gone to bed.  The best part about using both the Kindle and the ipad for reading books purchased through Amazon is that both communicate with Amazon.  No matter which one I pick up, I can get to the page where I left off in seconds.   

So, if you're asked what you want for Christmas, and are curious to try out an ereader, I give the Kindle two thumbs up :-)  And even if you aren't asked, the price point is reasonable enough for the Kindle that you could go ahead and treat yourself! 

Baby's awake!

The Help

I have to say that I am really surprised that certain offices, including mine, are closed in recognition of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  My coworkers and I experienced a true slap in the face as we were preparing for our clinics that are to take place this week.  One by one you could you hear one of us shriek, "OH MY GOD THAT'S RIGHT!  We aren't here on Monday!"  Someone could read this and envision the exclamation blanketed in tones of bliss and happiness.  But that person would be mistaken.  Rather, imagine the sentiment sounding similar to one groaning about owing taxes or needing a root canal. Like The Biggest Loser's "last chance workout," Monday is our day to prepare for the madness ahead.  You get the picture. No Monday= big problem.

But, que sera, sera, and here I am at home with the whole day to myself.  And I am hoping to enjoy it sans work as much as possible.  Since today is designated as the day to honor Martin Luther King, Jr and all that he stood for, I wanted to share with you one of the best books that I have read in a very long time, The Help by Kathryn Stockett.  My mother-in-law was the one who tipped me off to this book, and when I went onto Amazon and saw that it received 4.5/5 star ratings from over 1,000 reviewers, I decided that it was worth it to purchase my own copy.  The story takes place in Mississippi in the 1960's and describes the lives of black women who serve as "the help" for white families.  The narrative is rich and complex, and features several strong women with whom you find yourself truly connecting as the story unfolds.  When I finished the book, I found myself missing Aibileen, Minny, and Skeeter as though they were real friends of mine.  The story makes your heart ache in some areas and rejoice in others, and it reminds you of how far we have come in the past 50 years.  I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.

   

Two if by Sea

A week ago I finished the book 1776 by David McCullough.  I had never read one of McCullough's books before, but I loved his narration in the Ken Burns' Civil War series, and would really like to read more of his works in the future.  My friend and I heard him speak at Oakland University years ago.  We had horrific seats but that didn't matter because we were able to hear his voice, which is so amazing.  So of course when reading through 1776, I heard McCullough's voice in my head the whole time.  It was similar to when I read Stephen Hawkings "A Brief History of Time" and through the whole book imagined his computer voice talking to me.  Needless to say, it took me a long time to finish!

I have to say that 1776 had the most sudden conclusion to any book I've ever read.  No, don't worry, we still gain our independence (oops, did I just give away the ending?!).  It seemed so sudden because I am not used to reading books with pages upon pages of citations, and therefore did not realize I was so close to the end.  I nestled into bed one night to read a few pages, and then, what do you know, I had finished it!

I started reading 1776 in preparation for our weekend trip to Boston a few weeks ago.  Thankfully, the Revolutionary War started during the British occupation of Boston and I was able to get through that part prior to our trip!  I would have thoroughly enjoyed going to the historical sites in Boston even if I hadn't read the book of course, but being immersed in the book while going through Boston ended up being really, really cool.  The book picks up after the Battles of Lexington/Concord and Bunker Hill, and I wish McCullough could have included these battles and the events leading up to those initial conflicts, like the Stamp and Townsend Acts and the Boston Tea Party, just to get a bit more of that background.     

That aside, the book makes you realize how very easily the British could have won that war based on the moments of that year.  McCullough also does a tremendous job at describing the incredible hardships soldiers faced at that time.  Walking miles and miles with the barest of clothes and shoes.  Freezing to death during overnight secret marches.  Being overcome by disease.  Suffering for days and days before dying from war wounds.  Prisoners of war being bayoneted after their capture, or being kept on prison ships for months.  Horrible, horrible things.

Jim and I went to the Minute Man National Historical Park during our visit.  I had been once before and Jim thought it to be just as powerful an experience as I had 5 years ago.  Within the Minute Man Park are the historical remnants of the Battles at Lexington and Concord and the trail taken by the British in their retreat back to Boston.  April 18, 1775 was the night when the lanterns were lit in the Old North Church ("one if by land, two if by sea") and the midnight ride of Paul Revere took place, when Revere took off for Lexington and Concord to warn them that the British were coming (Paul Revere was also joined by a guy name William Dawes, who we just don't seem to talk about at all!). 

    With the Old North Church in the background

The British were met with huge opposition at Lexington and Concord, and at the Old North Bridge was "the shot heard 'round the world."  The British retreated back to Boston, but along the way were met with resistance from thousands of militia men who showed up from surrounding villages.  By the end of the day, 273 British and 93 Americans were killed, and the Revolutionary War had begun.

 

 

Old North Bridge, the location of the Battle of Concord

The trip from Boston to Concord is about 18 miles.  The British marched through the night on their way to Lexington and Concord, and those battles occurred in the early morning.  Just imagine walking that far, through the night, only to find yourself under fire the ENTIRE way back.  That's 36 miles in one day.    No sleep.  No food.  No water.  No Nike tennis shoes or blister band-aids.  Oh, and you're being fired at the whole time.   

If you ever go to the Minute Man National Park, there is a travel center that has a somewhat cheesy video presentation that is still pretty well done and informative.  Leave some time to just wander and picture what went on there over two hundred years ago.  And, when you're ready to leave that behind and switch to more transcendental thinking, Walden Pond is just down the road.  War and Peace, and so near each other.