Bound Galley

Islands of Divine Music review

2008-11-03T21:12:00.000-08:00

From the Oregonian, 10/24/2008

Fiction review: "The Islands of Divine Music"

Posted by Miriam Wolf, special to The Oregonian October 24, 2008

At the dawn of the 1900s, in Naples, precocious 11-year-old Rosari is sweet-talked into writing a ransom note for an illiterate gangster. That small moment sets in motion a chain of events that alters the course of her life. Forced to flee Italy, her family ends up in San Francisco, where Rosari meets Giuseppe Verbicaro, a ferociously determined laborer who will eventually become her husband.

Their story, and the stories of their children and grandchildren make up Corvallis writer John Addiego's sprawling first novel, "The Islands of Divine Music."

Unfolding across the panorama of 20th-century America, the novel has the intimate feel of a short-story collection. Each chapter zeroes in on a family member, usually one who has arrived at a crossroad in life.

These poignantly drawn character studies reveal the essence of each son or daughter. There's sharp-dressed Narciso, Guiseppe and Rosari's first son, who loves cars and women -- all of whom are so besotted by him they rarely notice he's slow-witted. Nicknamed "Lucky Pants," he's the embodiment of the fool who is smiled on by God. There's Maria, a young Latina hooker who Giuseppe takes as a second wife (without bothering to divorce his first one) and her son Jesus, who end up living a tragic and hardscrabble lives as migrant farmworkers and who resurface in the lives of the Verbicaro family in surprising ways.

And there's Paulie, whose dreams of baseball glory grow dim when he becomes nearsighted. Adrift, he ends up as a soldier in Vietnam and comes back as one of the many lost souls who seemingly left an essential part of themselves behind in that country.

They're all searching for clues to their identity, and while the family members may wander in and out of each other's stories, in the end, each character faces his or her own fate and future alone.

An Italian American family novel like this could feature characters straight out of central casting, but Addiego's lyrical prose and eye for detail bring Rosari's family to life in a way that feels rich and multidimensional. Reflecting the significant events and social movements of the past century through the lives of the Verbicaros adds yet another layer to this satisfying saga.

Details: THE ISLANDS OF DIVINE MUSIC
John Addiego, Unbridled Books, $24.95, 241 pages

Reading: Addiego reads from "The Islands of Divine Music" at 7:30 p.m. Monday at Powell's Books on Hawthorne, 3723 S.E. Hawthorne Blvd.

Dancing with Rose

2007-06-05T22:28:00.000-07:00

Here's a review of a Dancing with Rose, a moving nonfiction book that's like a gonzo journalism look at life inside a progressive Alzheimer's facility. It was published in The Oregonian.

Stint at care facility enlightens daughter on Alzheimer's experience

Sunday, June 03, 2007

MIRIAM WOLF

L auren Kessler was a writer, a mother and a wife when her own mother developed symptoms of Alzheimer's. Like a good daughter, she found a care facility and visited her mother weekly. And if she was freaked out and a little scared of the vacant elderly woman Alzheimer's had turned her vivacious, vital mother into, well, who wouldn't be?

But after her mother died, Kessler was left with the nagging sense that she "had faced [her] mother's illness and her mother's death with a combination of fear and detachment, with emotions shut down, and, [she] felt, lessons unlearned."

So Kessler set out to make amends -- to her mother's memory and to herself. She decided to write about Alzheimer's. She didn't just read books and interview Alzheimer's researchers, though. Instead, she began to haunt "Maplewood," a lightly fictionalized Alzheimer's care facility. (Kessler, the director of the graduate program in literary nonfiction at the University of Oregon, also changed the names of some of the people in her book for privacy reasons.) She observed the residents and forged relationships with the staff. Ultimately, she applied for, and got, a minimum-wage job as a resident assistant at Maplewood.

The result is "Dancing With Rose: Finding Life in the Land of Alzheimer's," a riveting view into the world of people living with Alzheimer's.

"There's so much research about the medical aspects of Alzheimer's, the decoding of the disease . . . the race to develop drugs to cure it . . . . But there is little research, almost no attention given, to the experience of the disease, what day-to-day life is like for someone with Alzheimer's," she writes.

Through her work at Maplewood, Kessler discovers what the experience of Alzheimer's is like for the residents she cares for. She introduces us to people such as Hayes, whose dapper dress belies a man who needs to have everything he does, from getting dressed to chewing his toast, explained in minute detail. There's Rose, who wanders in and out of rooms, picking up anything that isn't nailed down and putting it down somewhere else. Or Marianne, a former university administrator who believes she is an administrator at Maplewood.

"She talks about the employees here. 'I value what they do,' she tells me, 'but I often find their productivity is lacking.' "

Because she didn't know the residents before they developed Alzheimer's, Kessler doesn't see them as diminished. She accepts them as they are (something she is saddened that she wasn't able to do with her mother), and, in writing about them in such a revealing, tender way, she imbues them with humanity.

But the patients are not all there is to Maplewood. Kessler also has a story to tell about her co-workers. In passages reminiscent of Barbara Ehrenreich's "Nickel and Dimed," she writes about the women who brave the physically and emotionally demanding work at Maplewood -- and do it for minimum wage. Each RA must care for 11 residents, some of whom can take care of their own basic needs, others who need everything done for them, from toileting to feeding to dressing. The women who work there must find child care if they have young children and reliable transportation to work. They often have unstable home lives. No wonder the average tenure for an RA at Maplewood is three months.

Kessler stays there for nearly six months. Far from being just a writer observing, she ends up becoming attached to the residents and staff in a lasting way. She attends funerals, meets family members, listens to problems.

"It's odd," she writes. "This is the most draining work I've ever done, but as I am drained, I am also filled, and I think the equation often works in my favor."

Miriam Wolf is a Portland writer.

The Post-Birthday World

2007-05-14T21:33:00.000-07:00

I loved Lionel Shriver's The Post-Birthday World. I read it on a visit home to see my mom and it was completely absorbing; I was drawn into the characters' world totally. On the other hand, I recently tried to read Shriver's previous book, We Have to Talk About Kevin, and while I admired its rigor and quality of writing, it was just too intense for me. I had to abandon it. Here's my review from the Oregonian.

2 men, 1 woman split in 2

Sunday, March 25, 2007

MIRIAM WOLF

I rina, the heroine of Lionel Shriver's new novel, "The Post-Birthday World," is happy with her life. A children's book illustrator, she lives in London with her longtime boyfriend, a think-tank researcher. Their relationship is steady, boring and utterly comfortable. Irina cooks gourmet meals and waits for Lawrence to come home. Each night they eat a big bowl of popcorn while they watch TV: "Preparing their traditional pre-dinner popcorn, Irina was thankful for another routine of perfectly balanced variation within sameness."

And if Lawrence sometimes takes her for granted or subtly belittles her in public, and their sex life is smothering in its sameness and lack of intimacy, that's a small price to pay for contentment, isn't it?

Into this cocoon of domestic bliss walks Ramsey Acton, Britain's aging, flashy king of snooker. The husband of a children's book writer Irina collaborates with, Ramsey has, in the few times the four have gone out to dinner over the years (an accidental tradition, always on Ramsey's birthday), always made Irina feel nervous, giggly -- and sexy.

One year, however, things are different. Ramsey and his wife have divorced, and Lawrence is on a fact-finding mission in Sarajevo. Against her better judgment, Irina allows Ramsey to take her out anyway. In what feels more like a date than a companionable dinner, the two feast on pristine sushi, drink too much and partake in intimate conversation. When she realizes she's about to kiss Ramsey, she knows she stands on the brink of "the most consequential crossroads of her life."

The results of that moment are so shattering that they cause the very narrative of the book to split in two. And for the rest of the 528-plus pages, Irina's story is told in alternating chapters, each of which holds an alternate reality. In one, she has kissed Ramsey Acton and thrown her old life to the winds. In the other, she has not.

In the hands of a lesser writer, this technique would cry out "gimmick," but Shriver, who won Britain's prestigious Orange Prize for her last novel, "We Have to Talk About Kevin," does more than just pull it off. With a gimlet eye for detail, emotion and irony, Shriver turns a trope into a triumph.

With Ramsey, Irina has traded security for passion. As she's dragged around the world on snooker junkets, she has to fight to hold onto a sense of herself as anything more than a "snooker wife." Meanwhile, the Irina who stays behind takes ever-increasing pleasure in her domesticity, even as Lawrence begins spending less and less time in the cozy home she has created for them.

The chapters overlap and intertwine in interesting ways. A Christmas trip to Irina's mother's home in Brighton Beach turns out very differently depending on who is accompanying Irina. Both Irinas decide to write a children's book. The book written by Ramsey's wife is full of passion and color. About a boy who loves snooker, it doesn't sell well, but wins a prestigious children's literature prize. The book Irina writes under Lawrence's influence is a computer-drawn story that makes pots of money. Its moral is "Between betraying and being betrayed, the anguish may be a toss-up."

How often do we get to see "what might have been" in our own lives? With "The Post-Birthday World," Shriver gives us a satisfying window into the trade-offs and trials of two main characters in one.

Shriver reads from "The Post-Birthday World" at 7:30 p.m. Monday at Powell's City of Books, 1005 W. Burnside St.

Miriam Wolf is the managing editor of Bitch: Feminist Response to Pop Culture.

When Will We Get There

2007-05-14T21:29:00.000-07:00

Here's a review of a compellingly dark novel about a community of Eastern European expatriates in a dying mining town in Pennslyvania. It ran in the S.F. Chronicle. Click the title to go to the review at the Chron, or just hang out here and read it below:

Past weighs heavily on boy in a dying mining town

Reviewed by Miriam Wolf

When We Get There

By Shauna Seliy

BLOOMSBURY; 259 PAGES; $23.95

Winter has never seemed more barren, gray and without hope than in Shauna Seliy's new novel, "When We Get There."

It's 1974, and the coal mining town of Banning, Pa., is struggling. The mines are closing one by one, and the close-knit population of Croat, Hungarian, Russian and other Eastern European immigrants is feeling the stresses and uncertainty of change in the winds.

Lucas Lessar is feeling more stressed than most. When the novel opens, it's Christmas Eve, and 13-year-old Lucas is in the bosom of his extended family -- his great-grandfather, the patriarch of the family; Slats, his grandmother, who works at "the Plate Glass"; and his gaggle of rowdy great-uncles and great-aunts. (They drink shots of whiskey and "feed each other moonshine cherries.") It's a poignant evening for Lucas. His father was killed in a mine explosion several years ago, and his mother mysteriously disappeared only a couple of months ago.

The family's celebration is interrupted by the appearance of Zoli. A co-worker of Slats' down at the Plate Glass, Zoli is deeply in love with Lucas' mother. (Of course, everyone is in love with Mirjana, she's the most beautiful and vibrant thing in the fading town -- or she was until her disappearance). Zoli's love for Mirjana runs so deep it has unhinged him. He attacks Lucas, trying to choke him into telling where his mother is. Slats' brothers pry him off, but he comes back later with a can of gas. When he sets fire to Great-Grandfather's beloved pear tree, he sows the seeds of the family's near destruction.

Loss dogs Lucas and his family. His great-grandfather falls ill, and the farm animals wander away. Lucas, a good student, stops going to school and haunts the town, looking for his mother and revisiting both his own history and the family history his relatives have passed down to him. He explores the woods and the abandoned mine buildings, one day finding a batch of carbide tins that miners used to fuel their lanterns. They make a satisfying explosion if you know how to rig them:

"My mother could hear that sound every time, no matter where she was. She would know what it was, and a lot of times she would know it was me, and she'd come running. If I made a lot of noise out of it, I was asking for trouble."

He does make a lot of noise out of it, blowing up can after can, until the town's dogs are all howling and his best friend's father (and another admirer of Mirjana), Marko Markovic, comes to find him: "I already have a headache like someone put a knife in my head, and then you are making so much goddamn noise."

Aside from noise control, Marko has another role to play -- one that shields Lucas from the surprising violence that erupts in this novel and fulfills Slats' prophesy that the Markovics always come to the aid of the Lessars.

"When We Get There" is a novel all about mood. There is a sadness running through the book, uniting all the characters, even when they are having an evening out at the Croatian Club. Seliy is wonderful at creating lingering images, such as her description of Great-Grandfather's pear tree, its fruit growing inside bottles fitted to the blossoms, the otherworldly quality of the pear brandy that fills the bottles. Or her meditation on Slats' post-work ablutions, a metaphor for the woman's strength and the toll her life takes on her body:

"Slats came home from the Plate Glass, stopped up the sink in the bathroom, and soaked her hands. She cursed the whole time. She cleaned her cuts every day so they wouldn't get infected. Most of them were small, invisible from a few feet away, and she painted them over with iodine. The white basin had a pink glow from all the years of her rinsing her hands and spilling the iodine."

Eventually, spring does come to Banning, bringing with it hope, and maybe even a little redemption. The seasons are like that, even for a boy whose family history seems so much stronger and more real than his own future.

Miriam Wolf is the managing editor of Bitch magazine.

George Saunders Watch

2007-03-01T10:16:00.000-08:00

My 7-year-old daughter was doing her homework, which consisted of writing sentences based on simple pictures. Sample: Next to a picture of a ball, she wrote "The ball rolled into the street." Her complaints about having to write these sentences often reach the pitch and tenor of an undergraduate penning a term paper the night before it's due.

But I digress. Next to a picture of a goat, she wrote: "Goats eat everything. No note, no goat."

This is a not-so-veiled reference to George Saunders' brilliant Pastoralia, a book she has not yet read. Although I have read it, and apparently, I am also fond of speaking of goats and notes.

No word yet on what her first grade teacher made of the quote.

Napoleon's Pyramids

2007-03-01T10:13:00.000-08:00

Here's the most recent of my book reviews for The Oregonian. I had never been a fan of historical thrillers, but this one was kind of a fun read.

A thrilling trip to beauty, mystery and fear
Sunday, February 18, 2007
MIRIAM WOLF

I f they had ever met, Philip Marlowe and Ethan Gage, the hero of William Dietrich's newest historical thriller "Napoleon's Pyramids," might have become fast friends. They're both clever and handy with firearms; they're morally complex; they're often caught up in situations they don't fully understand, situations that lead to them getting shot at, being beaten or waking up with snakes in their bedrooms. And they both appreciate a well-executed example of the female form.

The difference is that while Marlowe prowled Los Angeles in novels by Raymond Chandler, Gage accompanies Napoleon Bonaparte in his 1798 military campaign in Egypt. The general is hoping to conquer Egypt on the way to snatching India from British control. Gage is along as one of a team of "savants," scientists that accompany Bonaparte to help unlock the mysteries of the pyramids.

Gage's savant credentials are weak at best. An American, Gage was apprenticed to Benjamin Franklin, who taught him enough about electricity to perform a few parlor tricks. The real reason behind his recruitment is a medallion Gage won in a Paris poker game. Although the golden medallion with vaguely Egyptian markings seems innocuous enough, people seem to want it pretty badly, and dead bodies start piling up in Gage's wake.

Once in Egypt, Gage becomes allied with Astiza, a beautiful servant who is definitely more than she seems -- she speaks several languages, worships the goddess Isis and can kill a snake with aplomb. Meanwhile, Gage also proves himself to Napoleon, not as a savant, but through his battle skill with his preferred weapons -- long rifle and tomahawk.

Dietrich is great at bringing these historic battles to life. His description of the Battle of the Nile, in which England's Admiral Nelson destroyed Bonaparte's ships in the harbor near Alexandria, is particularly poignant, all smoke and chaos and fear. Dietrich also slyly shows some parallels between Napoleon's Middle East misadventure and a more modern one:

"When the Egyptians understand that we're here to liberate, not oppress, they'll join us in the fight against the Mamelukes," notes Bonaparte.

"Victory is sometimes more untidy than battle. An assault can be simplicity itself; administration an entangling nightmare."

Dietrich evokes the beauty and mystery of Egypt. He lets us wonder at the pyramids and other monuments that rose out of the desert, full of secrets and mysteries. And he doesn't neglect the thriller part of the historical thriller genre. We follow Gage as he faces down assassins, frees a band of slaves, sneaks through a sequestered harem at midnight, crawls through secret passageways in pyramids that no one has seen for millennia. And all the while, Gage wins us over with his American charm and gumption.

Dietrich discusses "Napoleon's Pyramids" 7 p.m. Sunday at Borders Bridgeport Village, 7227 S.W. Bridgeport Road, Tigard; and 7 p.m. Monday at Powell's Books at Cedar Hills Crossing, 3415 S.W. Cedar Hills Blvd., Beaverton.

Miriam Wolf recently reviewed "Sacred Games" by Vikram Chandra for The Oregonian.

Sacred Games

2007-02-03T20:20:00.000-08:00

Here's my Sacred Games review from the Oregonian

Story sweeps reader deep into gangland Mumbai
Sunday, January 28, 2007

By MIRIAM WOLF
Once in a while you find a book that sucks you so thoroughly into the world it creates that each time you slip your bookmark between the pages and close the cover, you come up blinking, surprised to find yourself in your own skin again.

Vikram Chandra's intricate "Sacred Games" is just such a novel.

Set in Mumbai, India, the book opens as famous gangland leader Ganesh Gaitonde commits suicide inside an impenetrable bunker. Sikh police inspector Sartaj Singh has been mysteriously summoned to the bunker and bears witness to Gaitonde's last words.

Instead of closing a chapter in Mumbai crime, Gaitonde's suicide sets in motion an increasingly desperate hunt for answers: Why would an extremely successful (not to mention handsome and respected) man take his own life? Who was the woman found dead in the bunker with him? How does Gaitonde's guru fit into the puzzle. In alternating chapters, Singh and Gaitonde tell their stories.

Through them, Chandra weaves a dense tale, filled with intersecting characters. Singh is a moral man who must immerse himself in the bribery and corruption that fuel the police department to get anything done. Like any noir hero worth his salt, he's world weary: "Time had visited him with its depredations, and worn him down, but he liked the feeling of being dilapidated. It was restful."

But unlike Philip Marlowe, Singh's crime-fighting tools include a form of meditation:

"He began to breathe deeply, in a rhythm he had developed in a thousand stakeouts. If he could get it just right, heat and sweat would recede, and time would turn inward on itself until it whirlpooled into stillness, and he was relieved of the world while he was still in it."

Gaitonde, meanwhile, is the very picture of an international criminal, consorting with movie stars and amassing fortunes, even when he's commanding his gang from inside prison. But a powerful spiritual guru comes into his life, asking nothing from Gaitonde but his devotion -- and some light gun-running duties.

With mounting horror, both characters begin to discover the true dimensions of the guru's plans: Singh discovers that the bunker in which Gaitonde ended his life is a bomb shelter, while men who Gaitonde send on a secret smuggling errand for his guru begin to die of radiation poisoning.

"Sacred Games" can be read and enjoyed as an edge-of-your-seat thriller. It has plenty of action, violence and blood -- and if you can't curse fluently in Hindi when you're done with it, then you weren't paying attention. But Chandra's sure-handed writing injects the novel with layers of depth and meaning; he captures history, politics, current events race, class and religion. He clearly loves Mumbai and evokes it in dazzling detail: You can smell the streets, taste the foods and hear the cacophony of the big, chaotic city on every page. And through his evocation of the Hindus, Sikhs, Muslims and Christians who interact with each other in this crowded nation, we see how old wounds and new hurts can spark into sudden violence.

In the 928 pages of "Sacred Games," Chandra has a lot of space to stretch out. He uses it to show how the strands of people bound together through family, loyalty or simple geography weave a web that is as interconnected as it is inescapable.

Chandra reads from "Sacred Games" at 7:30 p.m. Monday at Powell's City of Books, 1005 W. Burnside St.

Miriam Wolf is a Portland writer. She last reviewed "Ines of My Soul" by Isabel Allende for The Oregonian.

Chile Today

2006-11-26T22:11:00.000-08:00

Here's my latest book review from the Oregonian, printed Sunday, November 19.

Conquistadora conquers blood, sweat and Chile
Sunday, November 19, 2006
MIRIAM WOLF
L et the minimalist writers have their barren plots, their juiceless narratives. I'd rather read an Isabel Allende novel. Her books teem with richness, complexity and vivacity.

Her newest book, "Ines of My Soul," is a bold historical novel that is a great marriage of subject and style. For Allende, the novelist whose uncle was the Chilean president until he was overthrown in a violent coup, the story of Ines Suarez, a conquistadora and one of the original Spanish colonizers of Chile, must have seemed like a perfect fit. The women of Allende's novels are strong, sensual and self-reliant -- Ines Suarez is no different. Her passion, strength and absolute disdain for the fear of death have made her a legendary figure.

Ines was born in a small Spanish town. As a young woman she learns to cook, sew and dowse for water -- skills that will serve her well in the New World. She marries young, a passionate ne'er do well who departs for Peru to get his hands on some of the gold that has made its way back to Spain from the colonies. Ines, stifled by a rigid society, decides to follow him. She finds not her husband, who has already been killed because of a venal politician, but an awakening of her senses:

"In this New World the air is warm, propitious to the flowers, with their seductive fragrances, and the fruit, warm and fleshy, provoke lust . . . I questioned the principles that had guided me in Spain. My youth was passing me by, my life was being wasted. Who cared about my virtue?"

She also finds the great Pedro de Valdivia, the Spanish captain who thirsts for the kind of fame that requires founding a whole nation. Passionately in love, Ines and Pedro set south from Peru.

Allende excels at immersing her readers in the sights, sounds, smells and even flavors of an era; she brings to life the hardships of crossing a seemingly endless desert, the terror of confronting the fierce Chilean Indians, and the beauty of that strip of South American land. Allende is a voluptuously visceral novelist, and "Ines of My Soul" is filled with blood, guts, sex and sweat.

And there is plenty of blood, for you can't have conquest without a people to conquer. In "Ines of My Soul," Allende doesn't shy away from the atrocities the Spanish perpetrated in the name of their God and their king:

". . . They descended like demons on defenseless villages, chaining the men, raping and kidnapping the women, killing or leaving the children behind; after they stole all the food and domestic animals, they burned the huts and maize. They made the Indians carry more than was humanly possible. They even strapped newborn foals onto their backs. . . ."

But the Indians do fight back, and Allende chronicles the clashes that accompanied the birth of the city of Santiago, including a legendary battle in which the Spanish only prevailed because Ines ordered the decapitated heads of prisoners to be flung onto the battle to frighten the Chilean Indians.

She fought alongside men, then dressed their wounds. She fed her famous empanadas to the poor of her city every day. Her intuition and network of friends helped her uncover several plots against de Valdivia. She founded hospitals, churches, convents and sanctuaries. Ines Suarez was a woman of great power, and Isabel Allende has honored her with an equally powerful novel.

Miriam Wolf is a Portland journalist who writes about books and food.

Plastic Fantastic

2006-10-30T09:02:00.000-08:00

My book review on Alex Kuczynski's Beauty Junkies ran yesterday in the Oregonian. It's a horrifying (the book, not the review) peek into the world of plastic surgery. Check it out. Or just stay here and read it:

Entering the strange cosmos of cosmetic surgery
Sunday, October 29, 2006
BY MIRIAM WOLF
W e've entered an age when moviegoers are likely to be more entertained by guessing which actor has had cosmetic surgery than by the actual plot of the film they are watching; an age when women in their 20s feel the need to get "prophylactic" shots of Botox to stop facial wrinkles before they ever start; and when a face lift or breast enhancement has gone from a slightly shameful secret to a proudly displayed accessory of a high-end lifestyle.

In "Beauty Junkies: Inside Our $15 Billion Obsession With Cosmetic Surgery," New York Times reporter Alex Kuczynski shines a metaphorical light that is bright enough to reveal the scars of those surgeries on individuals and our culture.

It's juicy reading. Kuczynski doesn't spare the details of procedure junkies like her friend Robert, who maintains relationships with several doctors so he can get shots of Botox (a weakened form of botulism toxin that paralyzes facial muscles) every eight weeks, instead of the six-month break between shots that doctors recommend. As the chapter on Botox closes, Robert's heading into his doctor's office to get shots in his palms, the soles of his feet and his underarms. Kuczynski notes, "His goal is to live a life without wrinkles or sweat."

Then there's the Hollywood housewife who, after liposuction, a tummy tuck, face lifts and breast enhancement, underwent genital cosmetic surgery because, " 'I've spent so much money for the rest of me to look like Dolly Parton,' she says, 'so why should that . . . look like Willie Nelson?' "

But "Beauty Junkies" is more than the sum of its horror-story parts. Kuczynski delves into many facets of plastic surgery, from its history as a way to make the grievously wounded or deformed look more human to the money issues that drive the industry today. She makes surreal hay from a visit to the American Board of Plastic Surgery's trade show, where she fondles silicone implants, attends the "Effective Marketing Techniques for Plastic Surgeons" seminar and checks out her pores on a high-tech diagnostic machine.

She also looks into the sociological reasons for our obsession. Going beyond the easy answers and cheap shots about women of a certain age, Kuczynski looks for deeper cultural markers. She implicates factors as disparate as the mainstreaming of pornographic images in advertising, the peripatetic nature of our society, even managed-care health insurance and, yes, the cult of youth and perfection.

Kuczynski is not just a plastic surgery critic; she's also been a client, and has her own story of addiction, escalation and remorse to tell (". . . was it wrong to pay my mortgage late so I could get some Botox?"). It adds even more layers of depth to this already meticulously researched and highly entertaining book. Give it to those you love before they go "under the knife."

Miriam Wolf is a Portland writer.

We Like Her, We Really Like Her

2006-10-17T12:43:00.000-07:00

"What are you doing on October 31st?" Seth asked while we loitered around the bookstore.
"Giving out candy while you take Sage trick or treating," I answered.
"You might change your plans," he said, noting that Amy Sedaris would be at the downtown Powells that evening.
Since I was just at that moment hungrily leafing through her new book I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence, a lavishly illustrated twist on those 1950s how-to-entertain books. In it, Ms. Sedaris shares her secrets on how to throw unforgettable bashes. With notes on everything from applying the perfect kohl to your eyes for your Greek party to making felt-covered pencil cups with rude or obscene sayings on them, this book can give you a whole lifestyle makeover. And she even providesthe recipe for her famous cupcakes!

Friday the 13th

2006-10-13T16:57:00.000-07:00

While Harry Potter creator J.K. Rowling has been content to birth six behemoth novels starring her little wizard, Lemony Snicket (aka Daniel Evan Handler, whose non-Lemony novel of San Francisco teens -- The Basic Eight was plenty dark and funny) has published more than double that amount -- today, Friday the 13th, sees the publication of The End, the (sniff) last in the series. I will always have a soft spot for Mr. Handler, as he at one time lived in my 'hood -- though we've both since moved. Long live the Richmond District!

After devouring that, young goths with no where else to turn might look into the new edition of Jane Eyre illustrated by the always creepy good and gothic Dame Darcy, whose zine Meatcake was always eagerly devoured when it came into the Factsheet Five office.

Running with Memoirs

2006-10-09T13:19:00.000-07:00

What if your famous son wrote a memoir that painted you as a mom who was as neglectful as you were nutty? That happened to Margaret Robinson, whose son Chris grew up to change his name and write the bestselling memoir ... wait for it ... Running with Scissors.

NPR digs her up and posts a profile on All Things Considered.

There have been few mothers as monstrous as the one in his memoir Running with Scissors. In it, Robison is described as so cold and self-absorbed that she gives away her young son to her psychiatrist.

But it turns out that she is a quiet literary person who sounds much more rueful about about losing the closeness with her son (they used to write together and critique each other's work), than about how she was portrayed in print.

As James Frey's experiences have pointed up, the hotter the memoir, the more grains of salt the reader has to take it with.

Subject and Artist

2006-10-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

The coffee table crushers have started to arrive in advance of the holiday season. First out of the gate, Annie Leibovitz's mammoth tome A Photographer's Life: 1990-2005. While she's best known for her work with celebrities (I think the ultimate Leibovitz photo is not the John and Yoko one, but the Meryl Streep portrait on the cover of a Leibovitz collection from the 1980s.), this book also lets readers into her personal life a bit with portraits of her longtime companion, cultural critic Susan Sontag.

Fast Foodie Nation

2006-10-03T08:40:00.000-07:00

Once food was a status symbol for only a few of the richest people willing to down challenging dishes like foie gras and caviar. Now everyone from yuppies to convicts is insisting on farm-fresh produce, free-range eggs, and authentic South Indian food. What the hell happened? We used to be so happy with our Kraft macaroni and cheese and our Swanson TV dinners. Now all our pasta has to be hand stretched or extruded through brass dies. Where is Sylvia Lovegren, the author of one of my favorite books about food fads Fashionable Food, which traces American food manias from the Jello salads of the 1930s to the duck breast pizzas of the 1980s. It even has recipes, for those brave enough to dip into the past for their next dinner party. Sadly, the book, originally published in the 1990s has no information on the current we-are-all-foodies-now-(but-don't-call-us-that) craze.

Luckily there is a new book that purports to tell us all we need to know. David Kamp's The United States of Arugula has just been published to tons of interest (including reviews last Sunday in the New York Times, SF Chronicle, and The Oregonian. For the most part, the book is concerned with the personalities that drove the movement forward -- Alice Waters, Julia Child, Craig Claiborne, and James Beard. There is lots of gossip. Sadly, no recipes, though, since dining out is a big focus of the book.

Kamp's touring now, so you can check him out. He's at Portland's Powells Books tonight.

The People that You Meet at Starbucks

2006-09-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

I like to think I'm more upper-middlebrow than lower-middle brow -- maybe that's the reason I disdain Mitch Albom. I was forced to read Tuesdays with Morrie for a book club I foolishly joined (I barely have enough opinions to sustain my freelance book reviewing -- I can't go spending them in a book club situation, and besides, the only thing I had in common with the other women in the club, all of whom were really nice and smart, was that we were all nursing newborns). That book had more pap than a visit to the gynecologist.
Maybe I'm just cynical. Ten million people can't be wrong, right? At any rate, Albom is about to be Starbucked, as his new heartwarmer For One More Day becomes the first author in the new Starbucks book program. The book, s slightly creepy novel about what would happen if you had one more day to spend with a loved one who died, treads familiar Albom territory of emotions, death, and healing.

Starbucks has done amazingly well in its music partnerships. The CDs sell like hotcakes. Not so much with its movie deal to promote Akeelah and the Bee. (People may be getting tired of the spelling bee thing, what with documentaries, broadway shows, novels, and other media flooding the market) Still, Albom doesn't really need Starbucks to push him, and the people who feel he's too populist and treacly probably are eschewing venti carmel macchiatos and strawberries and cream frappucinos in favor of espresso shots and mugs of shade grown in their locally owned cafe that features freshly roasted beans and housemade pastries.

Wes Anderson loved pop-up books

2006-09-28T21:28:00.000-07:00

Wes Anderson has obviously been inspired by book on ocean adventure as shown by the significant role that Jaques Cousteau's book Diving for Sunken Treasure played in his filmRushmore. I love that movie so much that many times I've been tempted to pick up a hard back copy of the book. I was reading my copy of the pop-up version of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and came across this illustration and was immediately reminded of the scene in Life Aquatic where we are given a tour of his boat. I'm sure Wes and his brother Eric had this book when they were kids.

Too Much Television

2006-09-28T10:50:00.001-07:00

I love projects in which someone immerses themselves in TV for days on end to prove what a shallow medium it is. In the 1990s, environmental critic Bill McKibben wrote The Age of Missing Information in which he recorded all the television available to him on cable and broadcast in a 24 hour period, then watched all 1700 hours of it. He then went into the woods to go camping for 24 hours. Which experience would teach him more -- a day in the woods or 1700 hours of TV? Hint: Camping.
In the latest issue of the The New Yorker, Bill Buford sets himself a comparatively light schedule of watching a mere 72 hours straight of the Food Network. Woozy with overstimulation, he becomes entranced with the visual pleasure of making a salad. Also, he caps on Rachael Ray.

My, What Big Thoughts You Have ....

2006-09-27T12:45:00.000-07:00

The British Guardian Unlimited has a nice piece on the many and varied interpretations of the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood" to commemorate the opening of the kids' movie Hoodwinked on that side of the pond. Originally penned in 1697, the story has offered rich material for writers, filmmakers, graduate thesis penners, and other thinkers. Does her red cape represent menstruation? Sin? Is the wolf, well, a wolf? Or merely misunderstood? And what to make of the fact that my 1970s-era CB handle when I was a kid was "Red Riding Hood?"

There's lots to think about in this article, but perhaps its raison d'etre is this line, about the 1980s Neil Jordan film The Company of Wolves:

"A movie so Freudian that you keep expecting it to grow a beard and move to Vienna..."

Barnes & Noble stock jump on analysist upgrade

2006-09-27T11:22:00.000-07:00

Barnes & Noble stock jumped when Goldman Sachs upgraded to "neutral" and removed the bookseller from its Americas Sell List. That reminds me of the gag on Arrested Development when their company's stock goes from "triple sell" to "Don't Buy" and everyone cheers.

Nevertheless, this is mostly good news for the book industry as one of the reasons cited for the upgrade is the slew of new blockbuster books planned for release this Fall.

History for Dummies

2006-09-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

The [Blank] for Dummies series is 15 years old now, and the New York Times celebrated this past Sunday with a juicyish insider's piece on the series.
Starting with the DOS for Dummies book in 1991 (which surprisingly has no value today, if the prices on Ebay are any indication), IDG has more than 1000 For Dummies titles. That's a lot of stupidity, from Opera for Dummies to Diabetes for Dummies. Best of all? They call the process of editing the book to their style "dummifying" it.

Ban Noam Chomsky?

2006-09-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

Maybe more people would read Noam chomsky if his books were banned instead of Where's Waldo.

Pictures of Sony's eBook Reader

2006-09-26T16:58:00.000-07:00

There's some cool pictures of Sony's new ebook reader over at Gizmodo. I'm amazed at how thin it is. Combine it with something like the Million Books Project and you have something very interesting.

Gone to New York, by Ian Frazier

2006-09-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

Just finished Ian Fraizier's Gone to New York. Great book. I got the first edition hard back cuz I'm such a book geek but I just love the cover to the paperback version. It is instantly recognizable to any reader of the New Yorker as his bag snatcher story.

I love books with lots of different stuff in it, particularly books that feature stuff from the New Yorker or other magazines. Books from Steve Martin and David Rakoff come to mind. What I love most about this book is how it holds together so well. It builds up short bits (from his Talk of the Town column) and other things into a large narrative about his life growing up in Ohio, moving to New York city, then to Brooklyn, and finally moving to Montclair, New Jersey.

His mind seems to work very much like my own, becoming obsessed with historical details and the unexplored underbelly of all the places he lives. His stories of living in a loft above an Army surplus store on Canal Street is like shooting fish in a barrel, but who would have though that New Jersey could be so interesting.

As someone who was born in Queens and lived many years in lower Manhattan, this book really satisfies a craving I'd had recently. As some might suggest it doesn't make me long to visit any time soon. In many ways it makes me even happier to be living in Portland right now.

While Ian Frazier is able to bring a rare sense of sanity to New York, Portland is the kind of place where it isn't a struggle to find the sanity. It's right there where you live, surrounded by your friends and community. It's when you leave Portland that you discover the insanity, which only makes life here even more satisfying.

Don't Let Me Buy Any More Books (At Least Not This Week)

2006-09-25T09:55:00.001-07:00

What do you do if you're faced with an enormous tableful of (outdated but still pretty cool) children's hardback ex-library books? And what would you do if you had a child who loves books? And they were charging only a quarter for them?

Yes, you'd dive right in. Even though your daughter's shelves are bursting with books and the basement is overflowing with them and there's a stack of not-ex-library books that need to be read and returned so you can check out more.

This Saturday, the Twi-Night Rummage Sale at the Eagles featured just such a table. The woman who runs the sale rescued the books just as the school system was getting ready to throw them in the trash. I chose 16 books -- 14 for my kid and two for resale. They included such gems as About the B'nai Bagels by E.L. From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler Konigsburg and a photo-illustrated book on owning and caring for horses by Jill Krementz, A Very Young Rider, and a Robert McClung books on salmon. When I was a kid, I loved his Luna: The Story of a Moth.

Ban the Bomb

2006-09-22T15:35:00.000-07:00

Here's an idea -- have a banned books party and have everyone come as their favorite character in a banned book! Personally, I'm planning to go as Captain Underpants.

Or maybe I'll choose the perenially-banned Judy Blume book Forever and go as the hot-to-lose-it Katherine. So many choices!

Banned Books Week

2006-09-22T15:04:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow kicks off Banned Books Week, sponsored by the American Library Association. The list of most frequently challenged books of 2005 includes the ususally suspects like Catcher in the Rye and many books that educate people about sexuality. I image this might be a big deal in places like Florida, but such a book-centric city such as Portland mostly takes such an event in stride.

No More Homework

2006-09-22T14:57:00.000-07:00

My daughter brought home some homework this afternoon that was actually pretty cool. She has to interview us about how we chose her name. That's nice because it fosters creativity, family history, and literacy all at once.

On the other hand, I'm kind of opposed to homework for first graders. Slate reviewed three new books that take on the controversy about homework this week and writer/mama Emily Bazelton concludes that, for elementary school students, homework is at best, just something to do instead of turning on the T.V.

Alfie Kohn, in his new book, The Homework Myth , argues that the elementary level, homework is mere drudgery and kills intellectual curiosity. I tend to agree a little -- would you rather help your kid memorize the multiplication table or support his avid interest in learning all he can about yucky bugs? Even more damning, Kohn seems to believe that the only thing homework is good for doing is instilling the unquestioning obediance and tolerance for drudgery to turn our kids into the 60-hour-a-week worker-drones that are the necessary engine for our fading economy.

Sara Bennett and Nancy Kalish's The Case Against Homework makes many of the same points as Kohn, but its authors also offer stragegies for dealing with the homework, and with the school.

The third book, Harris M. Coopers The Battle Over Homework crunches the numbers of a 700-family study to find out shocking facts like the fact that in younger students there is a negative corelation between the amount of homework a student does and his grades.

Everyone seems to agree, however, that the best homework a kid can do is to (voluntarily) curl up with a good book.

Cody's Books bought by Japanese book distributor

2006-09-22T14:36:00.000-07:00

Cody’s Books, which recently suffered the loss of its flagship store in Berkeley, announced that it had been acquired by Yohan, Inc., the largest distributor of foreign books in Japan. This past May, Cody’s closed its flagship Telegraph Avenue store. The Yohan CEO assured that all employees at the San Francisco store in Union Square and the Berkeley store on Fourth Street will be retained and the bookseller will continue its writer’s events and book services for schools, libraries and companies.

Dirty Sugar Cookies by Ayun Halliday

2006-09-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

I still haven't decided if I'm going to Ayun Halliday's reading at Powell's Books. I usually wait for the author reading before picking up a book I'm thinking of reading, but I grabbed a copy early and finished it in a few days. While it's lacking the intimacy of her zine, The East Village Inky, I liked the book very much. It's more about her life growing up and her years attending college than current tales of raising kids in New York City.

While my favorite parts are certainly the few chapters about life in New York, I also enjoyed her tales of college life -- getting her first apartment, cooking for a series of boyfriends, and hanging out in greasy spoon diners.

While I'm not usually a big fan of vegetarian conversion stories, her's was very enjoyable. I particularly liked the honest intimacy of falling off the wagon during her travels and big family meals. I don't recall exactly how long she remained a vegetarian for, but her intimate relationship to food is typical of vegetarians and oozes throughout every chapter.

Chocolate Magazine

2006-09-21T20:36:00.000-07:00

Came across this magazine at the local back date magazine shop.

It seems very much like a British version of Chocolatier Magazine. I don't know how many issues they published. This is the first one, dated April 1999, and might very well be the only one.

It's got all the standard stuff you'd expect the first issue of a chololate magazine to have; chocolate history, how it goes from bean to bar, and an overview of chocolate themed books.

As short lived as it might have been, it's still a fine publication. Really nice production with bright photos on high-quality paper. The chocolate tasting runs four pages and has some nice objective comments from multiple tastings on a wide variety of (mostly European) chocolate bars.

Their domain at http://chocolate-magazine.co.uk has been taken over by squaters but the editor Arthur Martin is still making the rounds.

Turkish Novelist Acquitted

2006-09-21T14:57:00.000-07:00

Elif Shafak, the Turkish novelist who was arrested for "insulting Turkishness" because her novel had a character talking about the turkish slaughter of Armenians in the early part of the last century (uh-oh, now I've insulted Turkishness) has been acquitted in Turkey.

Although the concept of "insulting Turkishness" may sound funny, her trial and its implications was no laughing matter. Several Turkish writers and journalists have been charged under Article 301.

What if the U.S. adopted a law like this? I'd wager we'd have a lot fewer books about the U.S. history of slavery and a radically reduced amount of dissident political views. On the other hand, even though I'm no fan of George W. Bush, the bookstores are getting kind of overloaded with anti-Bush books. Just the other day I picked up The I Hate Bush Cookbook, The Idiot's Guide to Why George Bush Is an Idiot, and Ramona Quimby, Anti-Bush Activist.

Corrections!

2006-09-20T14:06:00.000-07:00

Although I've read most of Jonathan Franzen's new book already, since lots of it previously appeared in the New Yorker, I'm excited to check out The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History because goodness knows, it's hard to find any memoirs out there. Franzen's ability to make readers squirm makes him a great candidate to chronicle his self-loathing adolescence.

And speaking of memoirs, I'm re-reading Judith Moore's haunting Fat Girl. As you can imagine, it's even more poignant since her death a few months ago.

Portland Library book sale coming up on October 6

2006-09-20T14:05:00.000-07:00

The big Portland Library book sale is coming up October 6, 7, 8, 9. Pay $30 at the door to become a member and get in to the preview sale on Friday night.

British phone books go online

2006-09-20T14:04:00.000-07:00

I've been fascinated with old phone books for many years. While I've never actually collected any, I've heard of old NYC phone books where you can look up Edgar Allen Poe's phone number. British Telecom is posting British phone books dating back to 1880, the year directories were introduced. I only wish the U.S. phone company/ies would do that. Look for it at ancestry.co.uk.

Kid's Book Fair

2006-09-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

This looks like fun. A kid's book fair sponsored by the Multnomah County Library. A good event to check out before the Sunnyside Art Stroll.