Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Book 18 - In Defense of Food - Michael Pollan

No preamble.  Time's a wastin'!

Book 18 - In Defense of Food - Michael Pollan

Michael Pollan is obsessed with food.  But it's not about a particular chef, or a particular style of preparation, or a particular ethnic cuisine.  He's not going to exotic locals trying to convince you to eat bugs or organs or something else the natives there eat all the time.  No, Michael Pollan doesn't care so much about what particular kind of food that you eat.  He just wants you to make sure that it is food.

"That's silly," you might say.  "Of course what I'm eating is food.  The very act of consuming it, by definition, makes it so."   Mr. Pollan might take exception to that.  Especially if what you are eating is the highly processed "edible foodlike substances" that comprise the modern Western diet.

"Shenanigans!" you might say.  "Now Keith is so desperate to try to finish the challenge that he has resorted to diet books!"  But Pollan is not trying to compete with likes of Atkins and Tarnower.  His book is An Eater's Manifesto (the book's subtitle).  It is a set of theses that Pollan has nailed to the kitchen door in order to get us to reclaim real food, and shun the "foodlike substances" that have been foisted upon us by the food industry.  His ideas, in theory, are simple.  In fact the entire gist of his manifesto can be summed up in three very short sentences:  "Eat food.  Not too much.  Mostly plants."

Pollan spends a good bit of time explaining the notion of nutritionism, which is the belief that food can be scientifically broken down into its constituent parts (fat, carbohydrates, protein, vitamins, anti-oxidants, etc), and by increasing or limiting the intake of these component parts, we can eat our way to nutritional health.  This way of thinking has dominated nutritional science for years: one minute we are told we should eschew butter for margarine, the next minute we are told that trans-fat is bad.  Pollan explains the drawbacks of this reductionist approach and how incorrect conclusions based on this approach have negatively affected health.  Pollan also shows us how this nutritional roller coaster plays right into the food science industry, who when faced with a particular nutritional science claim are more than happy to engineer fat-free cookies, or low-carb pasta.

Right now, you might be clutching your McRib Sandwich between stubby little fingers, barbecue sauce dripping down your chins, preparing once again to defend the substance you are shoving into your gaping maw as being food.  Pollan has very simple guidelines for determining whether what you are eating is food:  don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food; don't eat anything with unpronounceable ingredients;  don't eat anything that makes health claims on its package, etc;

Pollan is a convincing advocate for the topic.  He stays away from hyperbole, and presents cogent, well-researched arguments.  His message is simple and sensible enough to be intuitive.  Much as The Omnivore's Dilemma made you stop and think about where your meal comes from, this book will stop and make you think about what it is made of.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Book 17 - The Wordy Shipmates - Sarah Vowell


Well I'm winding down from Thanksgiving, and between tryptophan-induced comas I've managed to knock out a couple of books.  In somewhat keeping with the holiday, I decided to read something to do with the early Puritan settlers for whom the holiday is rightly or wrongly associated.

Book 17 - The Wordy Shipmates - Sarah Vowell

The Wordy Shipmates is a witty view of the early Puritan settler's foray into the new world, but it forgoes tales of  the Mayflower voyagers that landed at Plymouth Rock, and instead focuses mainly on those settlers that came across ten years later on the Arbella and founded the Massachusetts Bay Colony on the site where the city of Boston stands today (more or less).  Vowell establishes early on that there is an extremely important difference between the two settlements.  While the Plymouth pilgrims were separatists, wanting nothing to do with the Church of England, those who founded Massachusetts Bay Colony tried to maintain their membership in the Church, thinking that they could reform it from within.  This creates an interesting theological and political tightrope they must walk in order to stay true to their principals and not piss off the King, who you may recall is - thanks to Henry VIII's marital problems - the head of the Church of England.

Managing this balancing act falls greatly on John Winthrop, the founding governor of the colony and the man who inspired the colonists as well as Ronald Reagan's speechwriters with his line: "For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us."  Winthrop has the thankless task of keeping some of the more radical colonists in check, such as the separatist John Endecott, and the always "out there" Roger Williams, whose ideas eventually lead him to be banished.  Winthrop is forced to constantly spin the actions of these and others in order to keep the King at bay.
 
Vowell has a deep love/hate relationship with these Puritans, admiring many of their principles while abhorring many of their deeds.  She admires the free-thinking Roger Williams who puts forward such radical ideas as true freedom of religion (most in the colony felt you were free to worship as they did), separation of church and state, and the notion that the land actually belonged to the Indians.   She also seems to admire the prototypical feminism displayed by Anne Hutchinson, who has the gall to develop her own theological ideas and the unmitigated audacity to preach them to others, which winds up in her banishment.  She seems to admire many of the ideas Winthrop puts forth, but looks down on some of his actions, such as his role in the trial of Hutchinson.  She paints a particularly unflattering picture of The Mystic Massacre, in which John Mason and John Underhill burned the Pequot fort to the ground, resulting in the deaths of 700 men, women and children.

The book is technically a history book, I guess, but it is filled with wit and humor, and is constantly drawing parallels between the actions of the Puritans and more modern historical events and pop culture.  Vowell makes references to The Brady Bunch and a little known show named Thanks, a sitcom based on Puritan life that briefly aired on CBS in 1999.  At one point Vowell tells us that Winthrop is to Williams as Pete Seeger is to Bob Dylan, and compares William's zeal for the pursuit of his religious ideas without care for consequences to Oppenheimer's search for the atomic bomb.  All-in-all, it's an interesting view on what might be viewed as a rather dull subject.

As usual, I probably haven't done justice to the book, so to compensate I dug up some clips in which Vowell previewed some of this material on This American Life.  You can listen here:
Part 1:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LTXUSQraEvE
Part 2:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fA59w8yPzJY

Friday, November 18, 2011

Book 16 - Legends of the Fall - Jim Harrison

After a rather prodigious run, I seem to have slowed down a bit, which does not bode well for completion of the challenge.  Yes, I'm still considering that possibility.  It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings, and she doesn't break out her Viking hat until New Year's Eve.  Any suggestions for brisk reads are welcome.  Please leave them in the comments section or on my FB page.  BTW, I always appreciate any comments on the books or the content of the reviews, so don't be shy about that either.

So...I'm somewhat of a fan of Anthony Bourdain.  I read Kitchen Confidential in last year's challenge (click here for the review).  Although he can be a little annoying sometimes, I love the way that he fearlessly approaches the food and culture of the places he visits.  Also, he's never really thought of himself as a great writer, but he admires people who are.  I recently came across an episode of No Reservations, his TV show that appears on the Travel Channel, in which he visited Montana.  One of the people he talked with while he was up there was Jim Harrison, apparently one of Bourdain's literarary heroes.  I'd never read anything by Mr. Harrison, but Tony mentioned that one of his books was Legends of the Fall.  Having heard that the movie had been rather good (I haven't seen it), and curious to see whether Harrison was worthy of the praise Bourdain was heaping upon him, I decided to check out the book.

Book 16 - Legends of the Fall - Jim Harrison

Legends of the Fall is actually three novellas - a fact that I may need to revisit if I find myself two books shy at the end of the year.  The first, "Revenge," deals with Cochran, a man who befriends a very wealthy businessman named Tibey.  This nickname is short for Tiburon, which is Spanish for shark, and which ought to tell you where this is going.  Although he has some legitimate business concerns, for the most part Tibey earned his money the old fashioned way - drugs and prostitution.  As his name implies, Tibey has a reputation for being ruthless, and when he discovers that Cochran and his wife Miryea are having an affair, he arranges to catch them in the act.  He beats Cochran senseless and leaves him to die in the Mexican dessert, and maims his wife and puts her into service as a prostitute.  Cochran is found by some Mexican villagers and nursed back to health, whereupon he sets out to seek his revenge against Tibey, and reclaim his beloved Miryea.  There's a couple of ways you could imagine this playing out, and you'd be wrong about both of them.

In the second Tale, "The Man Who Gave Up His Name," Nordstrom is a man who marries the woman of his dreams, has a beautiful child, and has an extremely successful business career.  Everything is apparently wonderful for 18 years, until one day his teenage daughter notes that he is a bit of a cold fish.  Swept up by a wave of self-doubt, he starts trying to change his life.  He learns to cook.  He embarks on new experiences.  He realizes that his marriage is over, and he and his wife divorce.  As he becomes increasingly detached from his previous life, he is viewed as increasingly eccentric - even crazy.  However, he finds in this change a new freedom that he never new existed, and in that freedom a new-found courage to live life on his own terms.

In the final story, from which the book takes its name, Harrison tells the tale of a father and his three sons living on a ranch in Montana in the early part of the twentieth century.  Alfred is the ambitious one, who will ultimately run for the U.S. Senate.  Samuel, a bit of an intellectual, is his mother's favorite.  Tristan is the black sheep.  He is mercurial, strong-willed, resistant to authority, and wants to carve out his own path in life.  When the war tragically takes Samuel, Tristan reacts by going on a scalping spree of the enemy, an action that lands him in a mental institution.

He returns home and marries Susannah, a woman that was originally chosen for Alfred, but he is restless and sets out again, this time to sea.  He is gone so long that they are sure he is dead (it doesn't help that he sends word back to this effect), and Alfred winds up marrying Susannah.  He ultimately returns and settles down with a different wife and has some kids.  However, there still exists a tension between he and Susannah that fuels her bipolar disorder, and causes friction between the two brothers.  Tragic events and Prohibition lead him to become a smuggler, which puts him at odds with the Irish mob, and ultimately sends him away from the ranch again.

While none of these storylines are connected, all three of these tales share a common thread:  what happens to a man when you take away those things for which he cares the most?  Harrison tells these tales beautifully, deftly weaving interludes of introspection and brutal violence throughout the plot.  Although all three tales are great, I especially enjoyed the second one, perhaps because it comes the closest to having a happy ending.  I highly recommend this book!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Book 15 - Anatomy of a Disappearance - Hisham Matar


This is Hisham Matar's second novel.  His first, In the Country of Men, won a ton of international literary awards and was short-listed for the prestigious Man Booker Prize, so when I saw this on the shelf at the library, I thought it might be worth checking out.


Book 15 - Anatomy of a Disappearance - Hisham Matar

The story centers around Uri, a boy who lives with his father, a dissident exiled from his home country.  Uri's mother passed a few years earlier, and Uri has never really been able to get over the grief.  Now twelve years old, he meets a beautiful young woman and is immediately smitten with her.  The twenty-something woman, Mona, falls for the boy's father however, and after a short courtship, they are married and Mona moves in.  The boy sees himself as his father's rival for Mona's affection, and Mona loves the boy's attention.  The father, seeing what's going on, ships the boy off to boarding school in England.

Shortly after the boy leaves for school, the father disappears under mysterious circumstances.  Most of those close to him are convinced that he has been captured/killed by the current regime of his old country in order to silence him.  The rest of the book is dedicated to how the people around him deal with the empty space his disappearance leaves.  Mona tries to maintain her enchantment on Uri.  Uri grows up and eventually faces the truth about his father's secret life, and a rather unexpected truth about his mother as well.

The book has a powerful trance-like quality that draws you in.  It is a somewhat timely book too, with the recent events in Libya.  The author's father was a Libyan dissident-in-exile who opposed Gaddafi, and like the father in the book, he was kidnapped and returned to Libya when Matar was just a boy.  NPR recently did an interview with the Hisham Matar, and if you listen to the audio version, the author reads an excerpt from the book.  Here's the link:

http://www.npr.org/2011/09/08/140223701/a-libyan-son-mourns-his-fathers-disappearance

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Book 14 - Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk - David Sedaris

If you've followed this blog at all - maybe there are a couple of you out there - you'll know that I'm a big fan of David Sedaris' work.  I read three of his books in last year's challenge:  Barrel Fever, Naked, and When You are Engulfed in Flames (you can follow the links to my reviews, if you like).  His stuff is not everybody's cup of tea, however.  He is often raunchy and offensive, and is very open about his sexuality (he's gay).  At the same time his work can be quite poignant, and it often speaks to life's little truths.  One thing for sure - he's almost always hysterically funny

Book 14 - Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk - David Sedaris

In his most recent book, Sedaris departs from his usual essays about people and presents a group of animal fables.  Like Aesop, these tales are meant to spotlight the downside of some of the less than desirable behaviors people sometimes exhibit, but rather than hit you over the head with the moral, Sedaris tends to leave things open-ended, and let the reader fill in the lesson to be learned.  There is the gossiping primate hairdresser in "The Cat and the Baboon,"  who in trying to connect with her feline customer, tries topic after topic until she can find something that they both can hate.  In "The Motherless Bear" a bear suffers a great loss, but becomes addicted to the sympathetic attention and milks it to a tragic end.  In "The Grieving Owl", an owl seeks knowledge for knowledge's sake, which earns him the ridicule of the rest of his family, which are happy in their ignorance.

As I said, I'm a fan.  I loved this book, and for the beginner, it actually might be a kinder gentler introduction to Sedaris' work, but that is somewhat relative.  His work, in general, is not for the easily offended.  But if you like that kind of stuff, and I just happen to love that kind of stuff, you'll probably like this book.

Apparently, these stories were not all written recently.  Several of these tales have appeared over the years on This American Life, the public radio program on which Sedaris frequently appears.  There is something about listening to Sedaris read his own work that makes it even funnier.  So for those of you who want to sample a bit before you run out and get the book, or for those just too lazy to read it, I have provided links to the episodes (and the specific acts) in which various stories appear.  I can't speak to whether they are all in the exact form that wound up in the book.  Some of these are from four or five years prior to the publishing of the book, so it's certainly possible that some of them may be from an earlier draft of the story.  I'm sure they will give you the gist of the story, though.  Feel free to give them a listen.

BTW - for some reason I had trouble with some of these in the Chrome browser, but when I switched to Firefox it worked.

The Cow and the Turkey:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/305/the-this-american-life-holiday-spectacular?act=4

The Squirrel and the Chipmunk:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/308/star-crossed-love?act=3

Hello Kitty:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/309/cat-and-mouse?act=2

The Parrot and the Potbellied Pig:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/315/the-parrot-and-the-potbellied-pig?act=3

The Sick Rat and the Healthy Rat:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/415/crybabies?act=4

Monday, November 7, 2011

Book 13 - The Road - Cormac McCarthy

No preamble this time.  I've got too many books to finish and write-up!  Let's go straight to the review.

Book 13 - The Road - Cormac McCarthy

Nobody does desperation quite like Cormac McCarthy.  Whether it's Llewellyn Moss fleeing the relentless Anton Chigurgh in No Country for Old Men, or the father and son wandering through the post-apocalyptic landscape in The Road, McCarthy knows how to paint a portrait of people that have run out of options.  It's almost always a quiet, reserved desperation, though.  One that does not get frantic until it needs to.

Did I mention post-apocalypse?  That's the setting for this book, which I thought a little odd for a book that was written so long after the end of the cold war (2006).  This isn't just a case of single bomb destroying a major city either.  This appears to be full-on nuclear war, and the United States (and presumably the rest of the world), is locked in the grip of a nuclear winter.  The sky is a hazy grey which blocks out the sun.  Ash covers everything, and falls with the rain and the snow.  There is virtually no plant life, I assume because of the lack of sun, but there may another reason (radioactive ash?), because there aren't really any animals either, save the occasional dog.  No plants, no birds, no rabbits, no deer = NO FOOD.  

A father and a son, who remain nameless throughout the book, are traveling south, presumably because they think its going to be warmer there.  They push along a shopping cart that contains everything they have: a few pieces of spare clothing and tarps, some tools, a tattered map, and a meager supply canned goods, all of which they have scrounged along the way.  They are trying to avoid pretty much everybody.  Some of the survivors have solved the food problem by eating other people, and there are gangs of cannibals which travel the roads.  Even if the traveler you encounter has not acquired a taste for human flesh, he's likely to try to steal your stuff, and might even kill or maim you in the process.  They have a gun, but they only have two bullets, and the father is trying to save those for a very special last act of desperation.

The problem with The Road is once you've stripped away the desperation, there's not much plot.  They are traveling south.  They are trying to reach the ocean.  They have no food.  Hey, they found some food!  But that's OK.  This book is more about what a father will do to protect his son, even if he risks losing a bit of his humanity in the process.  He is constantly reminding his son that "We're the good guys, we carry the fire."  But as things get increasingly desperate, the line between good and bad starts to blur somewhat.  

One of the things that bothers me about this book is that it adopts the familiar "Mad Max" view of the post-apocalyptic world:  roving gangs, law of the jungle, etc.  Call me a Pollyanna, but I would think there would be more people banding together for good.  Maybe it's the father's complete distrust of everyone that hides them from us, but one would think that there would be more people trying to "carry the fire."  Then again, maybe they were eaten by the cannibals.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Book 12 - The Dolphin in the Mirror - Diana Reiss

I've always been fascinated by dolphins.  I remember watching the show Flipper as a boy, which was basically Lassie with a dolphin instead of a collie.  Flipper not only could perform amazing tricks, but he was incredibly smart, and could seemingly understand what people were saying to him.  He would click and whistle and nod his head in response to conversational speech, as though he understood every word.  He could tell when danger presented itself and had the wherewithal to not only warn his human companions but also to take action to protect them. For years we thought that this idea of dolphin intelligence was purely the romanticized notion of Hollywood writers.  We thought that dolphins were no more than intelligent than any other animal trained to perform for our amusement.  We thought they simply repeated moves they had been trained to execute in response to hand signals or audible commands.  We thought they had no higher intelligence, no true understanding of language, and no true understanding of self.  It seems however that science is starting to prove that dolphins are much smarter than we thought - perhaps even smarter than we have romanticized them to be - and this is placing our past and current treatment of them in an extremely negative light.
 
Book 12 - The Dolphin in the Mirror - Diana Reiss

In The Dolphin in the Mirror, Diana Reiss explores the mind of the dolphin, and makes a case for putting a stop to the poor treatment to which they have been subjected at the hands of fisherman, water park and aquarium owners, and even other scientists.  She starts out by regaling us with her tales of her role in the rescue of Humphrey, the humpback whale who wandered into the San Francisco Bay not once but twice in the mid-eighties/early nineties.  You may be saying to yourself, "I thought this book was about dolphins?"  Dolphins and whales are closely related however, and in addition to sharing sophisticated social structures, they both employ echolocation so advanced,  that it makes the U.S. Navy envious.  This natural sonar plays a big part in how they got Humphrey to return to the ocean, and how Japanese fisherman drive thousands of dolphins to their death each year.

After telling us how she became interested in studying these magnificent creatures, and giving us a bit of history of how man has interacted with dolphins over the ages, Reiss walks us through three decades of research, mostly her own, which sets out to understand if dolphins have intelligence, an understanding of language, and a sense of self.   She engages in various studies of different dolphins, trying to decipher their speech (a difficult task without a dolphin "Rosetta Stone")), seeing if they can make associations between symbols and objects, and testing to see if they are self-aware.  This last effort, which involves studying dolphin interaction with mirrors, yields some intriguing results.  To this end, Reiss subjects dolphins to the mark test: a mark is placed on the dolphin's body and the animal is provided a mirror for self-examination.  The dolphin clearly shows awareness that it is himself in the mirror, an ability that was previously thought to exist only in humans and higher primates such as chimpanzees.  

Free from the rigors of a scientific paper, Reiss can relate some of the more anecdotal aspects of her research.  She is acutely aware of the scientific danger of anthropomorphism, the act of bestowing human traits onto animals that aren't there, but feels that anthropocentrism, the notion that human intelligence is the only "real" intelligence, is equally seductive, and to be avoided as well.  She argues that we may lack sufficient points of reference to fully understand what goes on in the dolphin mind.

Reiss devotes one of the final sections of the book to her pet project: trying to put an end to the slaughter of dolphins that takes place every year in the Japanese village of Taiji.  Each year the fisherman of Taiji form a barrier with their boats and bang on pipes submerged in the water.  The noise creates a wall of sound which causes the acoustically sensitive animals to flee in the other direction.  The fisherman herd them into a cove, where after selecting a few choice specimens for sale to aquariums, they set about brutally slaughtering the rest, killing tens of thousands of dolphins until the cove runs red with blood.   This horrific event is captured in the 2009 documentary film The Cove.

I probably have not done justice to this fascinating book.  Perhaps I should let the author try to make her case as well.  Diana Reiss appeared on Talk of the Nation: Science Friday this past week (11/4/2011).  There is a link to her segment here: Diana Reiss Interview.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Book 11 - Fool - Christopher Moore

I'm still playing catch-up.  As I mentioned in my last entry, King Lear was just a lead-up so I could enjoy the satire of Christopher Moore's Fool.

Book 11 - Fool - Christopher Moore

In Fool,  Christopher Moore retells Shakespeare's classic King Lear from the perspective of Lear's fool  Sort of.  I mean he sort of retells King Lear.  And it's sort of Lear's Fool.  However, there is a great deal of embellishment on the characters and story line, borrowing heavily from other plays and changing the actions of players, as well as the outcome of those actions.

A case in point is the Fool himself.  Named Pocket, due to his diminutive stature, he moves to the forefront of the story, becoming the narrator and the center of the action.  An orphan who was raised by nuns, he learned his jesting craft as a captive part of a group of travelling performers.  He's a randy fool, shagging all three of the King's daughters as well as various female members of the palace staff.  He's a conniving fool, becoming instrumental in the intrigues that were engineered solely by Regan, Goneril, and Edmund in the original play.  He's a fool to be reckoned with, despite his size, as he is quite accomplished with the throwing knife, and keeps a stash of them in his cowl.  But most importantly, he's the King's fool, a status that protects him from other royals who have been the brunt of his jokes in the past.

Pocket's best friend and apprentice is Drool, a "Natural," fool whose diminished intelligence is made up for by an uncanny ability to mimic voices.  Drool is able to repeat whole conversations verbatim, in the voices of the speakers, despite the fact that he lacks the ability to really understand what is being said.  Drool is also gifted in the manhood department, and Pocket makes effective use of both of these natural talents in his plans.

Pocket is driven to his Machiavellian manipulations by the prophetic poetry of a mysterious female ghost ("there's always a bloody ghost"), and some witches seemingly borrowed from Macbeth.  He is not the sole perpetrator of intrigue, however.  As in the play, Regan, Goneril and Edmund have plots of their own.  However, Pocket is usually able to take their plans and make them work to his advantage.  Like Shakespeare's play, all of this planning and plotting comes to a convergence, resulting in the fatalities of most of the major players, but here Moore diverges drastically from the original play, making adjustments to who dies and how, in order to help wrap up his embellishments on the plot.

This book is quite funny, but also quite bawdy and vulgar.  There aren't too many pages where someone isn't engaging in acts of sexual debauchery, or hurling insults that would make a sailor blush.  However, if this kind of stuff doesn't bother you, and you are a fan of the Bard, you will likely find this book to be hilarious.


Friday, November 4, 2011

Book 10 - King Lear - William Shakespeare

Often, when a book references another book heavily, I feel compelled to read the original book before I can continue.  This was true of Exley, which made numerous references to A Fan's Notes, both of which I read earlier this year.  It should then come as no surprise that when I started looking at Christopher Moore's Fool, a parody of Shakespeare's King Lear, I felt a desire to read the original play.  For some reason, I'd never got around to reading it, nor had I even seen a production of it.  In fact, I'd bet my only exposure to the play was the ubiquitous crossword clue "One of Lear's daughters: Regan."

Book 10 - King Lear - William Shakespeare

Shakespeare's King Lear tells the tragic story of an early king of Britain (Shakespeare plays fast and loose with the history) who is getting on in years and decides to divide his kingdom and the responsibilities thereof between his three daughters, Regan, Goneril, and Cordelia.  Lear is a bit of a dick, so he makes each of the daughter's tell them how much they love him before he formally hands over the land and the power.  Regan and Goneril kiss-ass in royal fashion, telling how they love their father above all else, but Cordelia takes a much more honest approach, telling him that she loves him just like a daughter should love her father - no more, no less.  Lear sees this as a slight and overreacts, splitting Cordelia's portion of the kingdom between the sycophantic daughters and banishing her forever.  Despite her beauty, her potential suitors are disappointed that there is no longer a big fat hunk of Britain as her dowry, so they drop their proposals of marriage.  The King of France however sees her honesty as endearing, and jumps at the chance to marry her, dowry or no.

Lear soon learns that he should have placed honesty above flattery.  His original plan was that he would still be treated like a king, but he would have none of the responsibilities, and his supposedly loving daughters would take care of him in his old age.  Regan and Goneril quickly turn the tables on him, and the indignities Lear suffers at their hands are too much to bear, driving him to madness.

Meanwhile in Castle Gloucester, The Earl is sitting on a tragedy of his own.  His son Edmond, conceived with Gloucester's mistress, is frustrated with his bastard status and wants to deny Edgar, Gloucester's legitimate son, his birthright.  He successfully hatches a plot to make Gloucester believe that Edgar is trying to kill him.

Lear is not without his allies.  There is the loyal Kent, who sticks with Lear despite the fact that the King has banished him too.  Gloucester suffers greatly trying to protect the King.  The King's fool offers brutally honest counsel, seemingly immune to Lear's anger as long as he couches his insults in humor.  Even Cordelia, when she catches wind of what her sisters have done, musters an army to try to rescue Lear.

Of course the various plots eventually converge.  Edgar, assuming the guise of a madman in order to escape his father's men, meets the genuinely mad Lear, who mistakes him for a philosopher.  Edgar also winds up guiding Gloucester after Cornwall and Regan pluck his eyes out.  Edmund gets romantically involved with both Regan and Goneril.  And in the end, in true Shakespearean fashion, almost everyone dies.

Despite the fact that I've only read a handful of the plays, I've always been a big fan of Shakespeare.  I don't buy into this currently fashionable notion that Shakespeare could not have written his plays.  I think it gives short shrift to the power of imagination to say that the only a formally educated, well-traveled person could have penned these works.  However in the end, I really don't think it really matters who wrote them.  They stand the test of time as being some of the greatest works of the English language (although you've never experienced Shakespeare until you've heard it in the original Klingon).  The language can sometimes be a struggle, but there are plenty of annotated versions of the works to help you through that, and the payoff is worth the effort.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Book 09 - Four Fish - Paul Greenberg

Although fish and other things in the water fascinate me, I've never been much of a fisherman. I guess I don't have the patience. In fact the only time I think I've ever really been on a fishing trip was when I was pretty young (10 maybe?). I went out on a boat on the open water off the coast of Florida with my grandfather, his friend (it was the friend's boat), my mom and my brother(s) (I don't remember if my younger brother came along, it seems like he would have been too young).  I remember stopping at the bait store to buy some squid for bait, and setting off for the open water. Despite my inexperience I did manage to catch a fish, as did my older brother, I think. My mom caught a baby shark, which either my grandfather or his friend clubbed to death before throwing it back into the water. When it came time for lunch my grandfather and his buddy reached into the bait cooler, and pulled out some squid, slapped it between two slices of bread and proceeded to chow down on it, offering it to my brother and I to see if we wanted to try it.  Although we didn't try it, I guess you could say that was my first exposure to sushi.

Book 09 - Four Fish - Paul Greenberg

In Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food, Paul Greenberg explores the state of both the wild and farmed populations of four popular fish that grace the world's dinner tables: Salmon, Cod, Bass, and Tuna. He discusses the popularity of the fish, how they have come to be overfished, and whether the wild populations can recover. He educates us on the suitability of each fish to be farmed, how shortcomings of their suitability have been overcome by science, and how other less popular species would be far easier to raise in a domestic environment.

After reminiscing about how he came to love fishing as a child, Greenberg introduces us to the salmon. He talks about how the wild populations were decimated by overfishing and the damming of the rivers, which prevented the wild salmon from reaching their spawning grounds. He explains that their comparatively large eggs made them early candidates for commercial farming operations, and how at first selective breeding, and most recently genetic engineering have created "super-salmon" that are much more efficient than their wild cousins in turning feed into flesh. He outlines the environmental impact of industrial salmon farming, and the dangers of these domestic fish escaping into the general population (which they have).

Next he examines the bass, which is actually a name for a group of somewhat unrelated fish. The particular bass that Greenberg is interested in is the European Sea Bass. This fish had become rare through overfishing by early peoples of the Mediterranean. The value of this rarity gave people the incentive to overcome the many difficulties in raising these fish in captivity: Microscopic eggs, hormonal changes, and an extended spawning cycle. The innovations developed unlocked the secrets of fish reproduction in general, not just specifically for the European Sea Bass, and had applications for human fertility research as well.

Greenberg then looks at cod, a fish so plentiful when he was young that in his household (and many others) it was simply called "fish". That is to say, if you were having "fish" for dinner, you were having cod. Fast forward several billion Gorton's Fish Sticks and McDonald's Filet-o-Fish Sandwiches later, and many of the wild populations of this fish have collapsed. Greenberg discusses efforts to conserve the last of these wild populations, attempts to farm the fish, and efforts to find a possible replacement, which have already placed the wild populations of other species of fish in jeopardy.

Finally Greenberg looks at the tuna. He draws analogies between the hunting of this fish to extinction, and the similar fate that whales experienced before they became the darlings of the conservation world. He quashes the myth that Japan's tuna-as-sushi tradition is too well-entrenched to be reversed - actually prior to 1930's, they usually eschewed the heavy, oily fish for much lighter varieties.  He also talks about the economic and logistical problems of raising these fish domestically, and how tuna "ranching," is actually doing great damage to the wild populations.

To wrap things up, Greenberg looks at some of the fish that actually do well in farm situations.  He points to tilapia, tra, and barramundi as fish that are well suited to being raised domestically.  He also lays guidelines not only for preserving wild fish, but for selecting new species to farm.

The length of my blog entries is usually directly proportional to how much I enjoyed the book, and obviously I enjoyed this book a great deal.  Greenberg makes you feel his passion for fishing and the ocean, and makes rational arguments for sane fishing practices and domestic farming that take into account the economic realities of feeding the planet.  If you are concerned about the health of our oceans and the abundance of food that grows in them, read this book.



Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Book 08 - High Fidelity - Nick Hornby

I'm still playing catch-up.  Here is another book that I read several months ago.  Although I jotted down a few notes, I never really got around to the write-up until now, so I apologize in advance if anything is inaccurate or fuzzy.

Book 08 - High Fidelity - Nick Hornby

High Fidelity is the story of Rob, a rather self-centered 30-something who owns a used record store in England. Rob runs the shop with Dick, a rather mild-mannered chap who is constantly seeking new and more obscure music, and a rather overbearing bloke named Barry, who is constantly badgering his shopmates into naming their top five albums, TV shows, movies, etc. After an introduction in which Rob lists his top five girlfriend breakups, the actual story begins with his live-in girlfriend Laura breaking up with him.  Rob makes a point that she doesn't even make the top five, although his attitude and actions belie that assertion.

It's no wonder Laura left him.  Rob's been going nowhere for quite sometime.  When Laura met him he was a club DJ, but he stopped spinning records years ago.  He owns his own store, but it is not terribly successful.  A hipster in his own mind, he tends to look down on those whose lives don't revolve around music, and views the domestic nature of the lives of those around him - couples with homes, careers, kids - as something to be avoided.  

After Laura's departure, Rob wallows a bit before hooking up briefly with an American singer.  He then starts stalking Laura and her new boyfriend almost to the point of a restraining order, and pays a visit to each of the top five girlfriends before finally realizing that domesticity is maybe not such a bad thing after all.

As I said above, it's been several months since I read this, so my memory may be fading, but I felt like I never got to know any of the characters in the book.  Perhaps, as a reflection of Rob's personality, the book is all about Rob.  The problem is, Rob is so shallow that there's not that much to know about Rob either.  Still, Rob's musings about life and dating are quite funny, and the inane banter between Rob and his employees is entertaining as well.  Also, there are numerous pop culture references, mostly in the form of the top five lists, to keep a culture junkie like me engaged.


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Book 07 – The Name of the Rose – Umberto Eco

I'm baaaaccckkk!  One of the things I told myself when I started on the second year of the challenge was that I was going to try to do a better job of keeping up with the one-book/one-week pace. Obviously it hasn't worked out that way. In fact, it looks like it might be almost impossible to get to 52 books at this point.  However, I'm going to see how many I can get done between now and the end of the year.  I've got several books that I've read but haven't written up (I think I read this one in the spring), so I'll be playing catch-up on the blog entries for the next few days.  I can't guarantee the quality of the write-ups, but I will guarantee that for any book I post, I have actually read the whole book during the challenge period.
  
Book 07 – The Name of the Rose – Umberto Eco

The Name of the Rose is a murder mystery set in an Italian monastery in the first half of the 14th century. It is a time of great turmoil in the Catholic Church. There is a power struggle between the Pope, now residing in Avignon, and the Holy Roman Emperor in Rome. Great schisms have emerged between monastic orders, one of the greatest being the adoption of the idea that Christ had no possessions, which is in stark contrast to the vast materialism of the established church. Adopters of these new ideas run the risk of being accused of heresy.

William of Baskerville has been sent to the monastery to meet with Papal representatives regarding the terms by which Michael of Cesena will agree to obey the Pope’s summons that he appear in Avignon. As a proponent of these new "heretical" ideas, it is likely that Cesena will be imprisoned as soon as he arrives at the Pope's palace, so these talks will prove to be quite delicate, and any trouble could greatly alter the dynamic of the negotiation.  Upon his arrival, William learns of the mysterious death of one of the monks. The death appears initially to be suicide (a sin in the Catholic Church), but it soon becomes clear it is murder. William, a former inquisitor with keen powers of observation and deduction, is asked to investigate. William’s investigation points to the monastery’s library, a vast labyrinth that is off-limits to all but a few.  Despite strict instructions from the Abbot to stay clear of the library, William finds his way inside, and perhaps more important, makes it back out.  

There is a race to solve the mystery before the Papal delegation can arrive, as they will likely attempt to use the crimes as leverage in the talks. Unfortunately, not only is William unsuccessful in solving the crime, but additional bodies turn up.  When the delegation arrives, a rival inquisitor, Bernard Gui, launches his own investigation. Gui is quick to incorrectly attribute the crimes to the work of an heretic, and equally quick to make a spectacle of the accusation.  However, William is unconvinced that they have the right culprit, and he continues to try to learn the truth about who really killed the monks, and to learn the secrets of the library.

Eco's book is told through the eyes of William's young apprentice, Adso. In addition to the mystery at hand, the book deeply explores the competing theologies of various orders within the Church at the time. It also examines the stranglehold the Church had on the dissemination of the written word, and how this hold was gradually slipping away as secular universities began to emerge. The book gets bogged down in arcane theology from time-to-time, but the mystery is a good one, and William's character is quite entertaining. It's worth the read.