<i>Peyton Place</i> by Grace Metalious

This reminded me, very much, of a cleaned up version of The Beans of Egypt Maine. The Beans, though, was written from the perspective of the "shack dwellers," where this was written from that of the townspeople. I also agree with the Introduction to Peyton Place that the Beans are more caricatures of individuals, whereas Metalious's characters are more dimensional and believable.

Metalious writes very well about northern small town New England. The descriptions of the of the people and places ring true and are not forced. I was frustrated, somewhat, by the rather prosaic descriptions of Indian Summer, which occurred at least twice and was functioning almost exclusively as a metaphor (not quite as bad, though, as Wolfe's "island fortress"). Generally, though, she captured the color well and I enjoyed reading.

I was put out of place a bit by the year the book was set. I kept thinking it was set around the time the book was written (mid-1950's) instead of about 15 years before. The war seemed out of place due to that. And the times when the years were identified ("Class of 1939") it stood out to me like a sore thumb. I think Metalious could have gotten away with setting the book in some undefined and undefinable time.

As with most books that ere once banned or considered deviant, now the idea seems quaint. I think I've read modern "teen" books with more sex and "shocking" behavior in them. I suppose, though, the more shocking idea is the extent to which the characters kept up appearances and took the mantra "live and let live" to the extremes. The realization to the reader was that even polite, idyllic small-town society has its secrets and often they are kept by the whole town.

As a former and probably future resident of small-town New England, I found the characters quite believable and the secrets very true. Overall, a good read. Well paced and written.

8/10

<i>Mindless Eating</i> by Brian Wansink

I read about this book somewhere online. Wansink is a food researcher and completes experiments to asses what effects how much and what we eat. The food labs he uses include the standard one-way glass and a full service restaurant on campus.

It is very sobering to see how much influence advertising has on us. I suppose it shouldn't be much of a surprise, since modern advertising has been figuring out these things for a number of years. Wansink gives a number of examples of this: printing the number of servings in large text a package contains causes us to eat less; having an emotion tie to a food influences us like it that much more; etc. He used his lab to prove these and a number of other behaviors that modern humans have with food---a serving is how much we have in front of us (proved, in part, by an experiment with a never-ending soup bowl; that would've been an awesome Course 2 UROP).

Wansik outlines a diet based on this research. The idea is to generally reduce the amount you eat---not drastically, but by only 100 calories a day (i.e. if you normally eat 2100 calories a day, aiming for 2000), otherwise you fell hungry or deprived---to slowly lose weight. Since thought the eating behavior you develop becomes a habit over time, you tend to keep the weight off that is lost in this manner. The goal: mindless weight loss.

The strategies are basic: split big meals; pick two: dessert, drink or appetizer; keep food out of sight and distant from you; use smaller plates; don't eat straight from the bag. I like the advice a lot, as it doesn't tell you: "NO! Don't eat THAT!" You don't have to feel deprived, you just need to adjust your habits slightly to lose weight over th long term.

This book was interesting for three reasons: (1) it offers reasonable advice for a better diet; (2) it explains (at least partly) why we tend to overeat; (3) it includes some great annecdotes about the results of studies completed in Wansink's food labs. An educational, quick read.

8/10

<i>Father and Son</i> by Edmund Gosse

Back almost a year ago when Slate.com had its series of articles about memoirs, this book was mentioned as a first in its genre: the "tell all" memoir . First, this is a tell all by Victorian standards. So, don't go reading it expecting to find tales of lurid sexual affairs or the exposure of wrists or ankles. It is a tell all more in the terms of feelings and relationships---equally as repressed as sex during that time period.

Second, despite being a "significant" book in the history of literature, it is very good.

Gosse recounts his youth. Since much of his youth was spent only with his father---his mother died of cancer when he was six---it is mostly about his relationship with his father and his relationship with religion. His mother and father were strict Plymouth style Puritans. His father often preached the good word, but he would often be found in his study working on his day job as a naturalist.

In one very interesting part of the book Gosse describes the difficulty his father went through when first encountering the ideas of Charles Darwin. Since his father was, at very least, observant about nature (he drew, painted and cataloged it for many books), Gosse describes (and imagines) his father's final decision to promote a creationist style view as very difficult. Once, though, the decision was made, his father never looked back, even going so far as to write a book about God's role in geological formations, despite geology being far outside his ken.

Another dramatic part of the book is Gosse's baptism. Part of the Puritan belief is that one can only be baptized once one is an adult. Gosse's father convinced his congregation that his son was so advanced in spirit that they must baptize him despite him only being around ten years old. Gosse, at this point, was very enthusiastic about his religion---even to the point of smugness---despite not believing in the same idea of god that his father saw. This belief goes back to a much younger time: Gosse tested the idea of a vengeful god by putting another god before him. One afternoon, around the age of five, while his parents were out, Gosse said his usual daily prayer to a chair---replace all the "Oh Lords" with "Oh Chair" (a very comical scene). Since nothing horrible happened, he concluded that the vengeful god of his father's mind was not the correct understanding of god.

This difference of interpretation widens then contracts throughout Gosse's boyhood. By the end, though, Gosse has moved to London to study and finds his father's intense interest in his son's soul stifling. Their relationship breaks a part.

The story of Gosse's young life and relationship with his parents is wonderfully told. He describes his younger days without raging sentimentality. He is sober when describing his mother's illness and death, but still brings out some of the small charms that occur during such life-changing events (Gosse at age six reading his mother poetry). The writing is clear, witty and engaging. Well recommended.

9/10

<i>Welcome to the Monkey House</i> by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

I always find it very hard to write about collections of short stories. And for Vonnegut, I am finding it even harder---it has been more than two weeks since I finished this book that I am writing this down. Many of the stories in this collection were written prior to most of my favorite Vonnegut novels: Mother Night, Slaughterhouse 5 and Galapagos. As such, I can see many of the themes of those works in these stories: the future of the human race, sci-fi more generally, the meaning of life and human relationships.

I have spent some time thinking and can't identify a favorite. Two of them, though, made my skin crawl---always a worthy attribute in a short story. Those are: "All the King's Horses" and "Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow". "All the King's Horses" flashed me back to "Heart of Darkness" and "The Most Dangerous Game", but with a marginally happier ending. (On a side note: it is interesting that these types of human sacrifice stories stand out more as short stories than as novels. Maybe they are better---and creepier---if there is less said about them.) The skin crawling aspect in this one was based on the lack of free will of the individuals and the Captain's forced god-like power over them.

"Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow" has a similar theme of a lack of free will, but feels more possible. This one reminded me of My Petition for More Space, though with less order (bureaucracy?) and the bad side of Sax's quote which I included when writing up Blue Mars. It is a question, though, we will have to contend with as our life spans get longer. While I hope the solution is expand skyward, the cynic in my gut tells me we may be headed to something more like Vonnegut's future. That gives me the heeby-jeebies.

In general, these are all excellent stories. These leave a different feeling on your skin than a Ray Bradbury story, despite the similarities. With Bradbury, the extrapolation point seems too far out. Though Bradbury still captures the Twilight Zone feeling, Vonnegut is more visceral: that extrapolated point is very close, giving a tighter feel to my skin when I finish reading.

9/10

<i>How to Read a Book</i> by Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren

The first thing I noticed when I picked this book up to read it was that Charles Van Doren is one of the authors. He was involved in the game show scandals of the 1950's---what the Redford directed movie Quiz Show was based on. Other than that event, I knew he had a reputation as an "intellectual". As such I would expect him to be well read and able to offer a good opinion on the topic.

I was not disappointed. This book offers a structured and directed approach for reading. The author's split reading into four classifications: elementary, inspectional, analytical and syntopical and offers rules for doing each type. The rules start with four questions: what is the book about; what is being said and how; is the book true in whole or part; and what of it? Ther are detailed instructions for determining these answers, which I will leave as an excercise to the reader. Suffice it to say, I generally agree with what is said.

The authors encourage marking up books. I used to do this often, but had gotten away from it in college---probably because reselling books was much in my mind. I am going to start doing that again, as I do find (testing with this particular book) that the act of holding a pen in my hand ready to underline, makes me a more attentive reader.

The authors say that as a reader, one must read actively, asking the questions above for all books, modifying slightly for fiction and other genres and in intensity based on what is to be accomplished by reading the book. Just this is an interesting discussion, as one must know what and why one is reading something before starting. Will I need my pen to mark up pages? Should I retain this for later reference?

One thing they don't discuss is the social aspects of reading. Plenty of time is spent coaching you to come to your own opinion about books---a very important point: an opinion about anything is no good if you didn't arrive at it following considerable thought on your own---but I do not remember any notes about using these opinions to further discussion.

I suspect that many of the directions for discussing books would be the same as "talking" to authors: don't criticize some one until you can say "I understand", don't be contentious , and recognize and observe the difference between knowledge adn personal opinion. Really, be civil in discussions.

This is a book I will reference often as I read.

9/10

<i>The Blind Assassin</i> by Margaret Atwood

This book was suggested by a friend. Since I have read other Atwood (The Handmaid's Tail about 3 years ago and Cat's Eye in high school) and liked them, I was happy to return to her work, especially with a recommendation.

Atwood adeptly weaves together three stories: a book within the book, the memories of the protagonist and the clippings to support these memories. So, as readers we get an interpreted history through the book within the book, a personal history through the memories and an objective history through the clippings. These three aspects establish a rich story.

An additional layer is the sci-fi stories that were incorporated as part of the book within the book (I was reminded of the sci-fi aspects of Cat's Eye). These stories compounded the interpretation, creating caricatures of the main characters: a girl who couldn't talk and a boy who couldn't see. The caricatures were broad brush strokes, reflecting an inability to stand up for one's self and family and one's ability to navigate deftly through life without seeing anything.

I liked Atwood's writing. I especially enjoyed the voice of Iris as an "older" woman looking back on here life and writing to her estranged grand-daughter. The writing about her family's and her own more elegant past was enjoyable and the feeling of distress as that (and her family) slipped away over the years was palpable.

Overall, a very good read.

8/10

<i>Notes Towards the Definition of Culture</i> by T.S. Eliot

Dave and I spent some time discussing this book---indeed, Dave loaned it to me in the first place so we could do just that. We haven't had a final conversation about it since I finished. I have a few thoughts, though, that have been discussed to some extent about the content of this work.

Eliot contends that culture must have a religious base. I, rather flippantly, disagree with that. But, I cannot give an example of a culture where its people are not involved in a religion (i.e. a faith in the supernatural/divine). Even if, in the case of agnostics or atheists, it is only to speak against the 'common' understanding. For an atheist to say there is no god, there must be some cultural understanding to make that meaningful.

Eliot also claims that those who come to a religion through culture are just as entitled to call themselves of that religion as those who come to a religion through faith. I summarized this to Dave as: becoming Catholic for the art (or, in the Seinfeld tradition, Jewish for the jokes). Eliot's point is that the cultural results of religion will tend to reflect the same values as those held by the religion. As such, if you like the cultural aspects, the faith will fit you as well.

I find this hard to agree with. While I think people can come to faith by a variety of directions, I also think it is fair to be suspicious of the of those who have conversions based on cultural aspects that can be found in many religions or in society at large (see Jason's entry on Take This Bread). While a group of people who are in the local soup kitchen may share your desire to hep the needy, the conversion to a faith should rest on more than a single commonality, as faith, if one is serious about it, is a more encompassing than the single act to serve soup.

I agree with Eliot on his general view of culture: that cultures are intertwined and depend on each other; that you cannot have a middle-class culture without a lower class culture; when people forget the cost ties between cultures, wars breakout; the ideas of a world culture is meaningless without any counterpart to help define it.

Overall, I liked the book, Eliot sets his argument out reasonably. He keeps it short, which enables understanding. I enjoyed thinking about the ideas he presented.

8/10