Catching Up

I have not blogged about my reading a very long time. It’s been eventful around here. I took on extra duties at work, our cat passed away, we adopted kittens in August. Meet Velma and Daphne.

Two tabby and white cats named Velma and Daphne
Velma (left) and Daphne (right)

They are incredibly lovable and sweet. We adore them!

Here is a list of all the books I’ve read since I last wrote a review on my blog with a star-rating attached. I don’t think I’ll get around to reviewing these books. I started to write a catch-up post with reviews in September, and I was overwhelmed. Links go to Bookshop.org if you’re interested in purchasing. I would earn a small commission.

Of these books, my two favorites are Circe and Surrender (big U2 fan here). I was slightly disappointed by The Brontë Myth because it focused almost entirely on Charlotte Brontë. Anne was entirely neglected and Emily nearly so. I get why: we just don’t really know that much about them because they died before they became major literary stars whereas Charlotte survived long enough to see her fame blossom. I still gave the book 4 stars as it was informative. It wasn’t in the same league as Miller’s book about Keats. I thoroughly enjoyed both Madeline Miller books and plan to read more in that vein (seems like a burgeoning industry to retell Greek myths). I felt like The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue owed a little bit to the Doctor Who episode about Ashildr, introduced in the episode “The Woman Who Lived” (one of my all-time favorites episodes and characters).

Two Books You Should Read by Indigenous Authors

by Natalie Díaz, Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz
Published by Beacon Press, Graywolf Press Genres: Nonfiction, Poetry
Format: E-Book, eBook, Paperback

This week, I finished two books, both by indigenous authors. Postcolonial Love Poem is Mojave and an enrolled member of the Gila River Indian Tribe. Activist Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz believes her mother was Native American but assimilated when she married Dunbar-Ortiz’s father. I highly recommend both books, which take on America’s history as a colonizing country—something the U.S. frequently pretends not to be.

My favorite poems in this collection were “American Arithmetic,” “They Don’t Love You Like I Love You,” “The First Water is the Body,” and “exhibits from The American Water Museum.” I liked them all for different reasons. I was familiar with “American Arithmetic” already. I think someone on Twitter pointed me in that poem’s direction a few years ago. It’s a clever use of statistics to make a point. “They Don’t Love You Like I Love You” plays with lyrics from “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I wanted to teach that poem this year, but we had a snow day, and I had to move some things around. I liked the two water poems for the messages about water and life. This collection was an excellent read on the train to and from Boston yesterday.

I read this book in fits in starts. I first started to read it some time back, I forget how long ago, but I had to set it aside for reasons I no longer remember (probably grad school). I picked it up again recently as I was teaching a unit in my Social Justice class on Native history and literature. As advertised, this book examines the history of America through the eyes of indigenous people. I was looking for a bit more about more recent history, including activism on the part of the American Indian Movement and more recent strides such as the Indian Child Welfare Act (which is under threat) and cultural revival efforts. Still, this book was an interesting introduction to the many ways the United States’ genocide and war against indigenous people have impacted today’s events. For instance, I happened to note a politician on TV using the term “Indian Country” to refer to a country/territory hostile to Americans, and it was right after I had read in Dunbar-Ortiz’s book that the military still uses this term. The legacy of the horrible racism and greed perpetrated against indigenous people is still very much a part of our country today.

Review: Possession, A. S. Byatt

Review: Possession, A. S. ByattPossession by A.S. Byatt
Published by Vintage on October 1, 1991
Genres: Historical Fiction
Pages: 555
Format: Audio, Audiobook
Source: Audible
Buy on Amazon
Goodreads
five-stars

Possession is an exhilarating novel of wit and romance, at once an intellectual mystery and triumphant love story. It is the tale of a pair of young scholars researching the lives of two Victorian poets. As they uncover their letters, journals, and poems, and track their movements from London to Yorkshire—from spiritualist séances to the fairy-haunted far west of Brittany—what emerges is an extraordinary counterpoint of passions and ideas.

Man Booker Prize Winner (1990)

I first read this novel about 20 years ago on my husband’s recommendation, and I felt like revisiting it. It’s even better than I remembered. The blurb doesn’t do Byatt’s genius justice. Not only did she invent a fictional love story between two fictional Victorian poets, but she also managed to build a world of literary criticism around the poets, replete with territorial academics and tongue-in-cheek digs at some of the wild theories academics espouse about symbolism and meaning. On top of all that, she wrote poetry and critical excerpts purportedly the work of her characters. All of this serves to make this novel and its characters very real. You might swear, after reading the book, that you also had to read Randolph Henry Ash in school and also couldn’t make any sense of him (just as a few of the characters say).

Ash appears to be based on Robert Browning, and this supposition is strengthened by the fact that Byatt’s mother was a Browning scholar. She likely heard many of the things that later cropped up in her book around the dinner table at home. Christabel LaMotte seems to be a composite of writers like Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, George Eliot, and Charlotte Brontë. The scholars studying their work seem pretty recognizable figures in academia. I think this book might potentially have a narrow appeal. I’m sure English literature nerds, poetry lovers, and anyone interested in Victorian literature would enjoy it, but beyond that, the poetry passages are purposefully dense and difficult, and I’m not sure the general reading public would find the plot thrilling. (I did.) If your interests lie within that narrow window, reading this book will provide great rewards.

Because a good chunk of this novel is set in the 1850s-1860s, I’m counting it as my first book in the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge for 2022. I’m also counting as a book set in the United Kingdom (a small part is set in France) for the European Reading Challenge. See my reading challenges page for more.

five-stars

Canning and Preserving Books

I have been wanting to try canning and preserving for a long time, but I was intimidated and also didn’t have enough time to devote to learning a new thing. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you might remember that I have made soap pretty often in the past and also taught myself how to make bread. I learned both of these home crafts, for lack of a better term, through reading books (my preferred medium for learning). One of my students told me that’s really weird because she, like many other people her age, prefers to learn by watching YouTube videos.

Shrug Gif

I bought myself two canning and preserving books. I figured I’d have time to read them and try out some recipes now that it’s summer (a perfect time to learn to preserve) and I’m all done with grad school. I did a bit of research to find out which books most people were recommending on blogs, and I wound up buying two.

What I loved most about this book is that all the recipes are small-batch, and the book is geared toward novices. One reviewer on Goodreads criticized this book for having a lot of recipes that cannot be processed for long-term storage. That’s a fair critique. One example I noted was their recipe for onion jam; however, the Ball book below has a similar onion jam recipe that can be processed. I thought their instructions were very clear. I have learned to trust America’s Test Kitchen books and recipes online/in magazines after trying so many. They all just work because, well, ATK tests everything (hence, their name). It’s nice to know what pitfalls to avoid. Their ingredient and equipment reviews were really helpful. On their advice, I bought the canning pot, jar lifter, and pectin they recommended.

This book is a comprehensive compendium that includes instructions and recipes for everything from jams and fruit preserves to dehydration and smoking and curing meat. I think many of the recipes and techniques are within reach of beginners, but whether or not beginners would want to invest in them is probably another issue; for example, I’m not sure I have an interest in curing my own bacon. Still, that’s just me. Most of the book is dedicated to canning in many forms, from jams to pickles. There is a chapter on pressure canning. I’m not sure I feel like I want to invest in a separate gadget just to try pressure canning, but some of the recipes in that section do look good. There is an intriguing recipe for mustard in the fermenting section that I want to try, and their dill pickle spears look like they’d be interesting to try as well.

Both of these books are great in terms of instructions, advice, and recipes, but I give the nudge to the Ball book in terms of range. I haven’t tried any of its recipes yet, but I made some of the ATK book’s blueberry jam and preserved some cherries in syrup. I’m hoping to try dill pickles next. I took some pictures to chronicle this journey.

Blueberries on the Bush
Photo credit Steve Huff

My husband and I went to our local pick-your-own farm and got four quarts of blueberries. There was something really satisfying about pulling the fruit off the bush and hearing it plink as it fell into the bucket or cardboard box. I’ve never picked blueberries before, but I have gone to this farm to pick strawberries and apples.

Blueberries

I decided to make the America’s Test Kitchen book’s Blueberry Earl Grey jam because I love Earl Grey tea. Also, it was a small two-jar recipe that would give me a chance to try out processing, a technique for preserving jam for long-term storage—up to a year.

Blueberries Cooking

The blueberries don’t need to cook very long before they start to release their juice. After you add the pectin and sugar, it seems like a really quick process. Even though I was just making two jars

Blueberries Becoming Jam

I tried out my new canning pot, which is the one America’s Test Kitchen recommends in their book both in terms of value and durability. When I was done I had two jars of blueberry jam. I can’t taste the Earl Grey tea at all. A friend told me you need a lot more tea than five teabags to impart flavor, so I’m not sure what the folks at ATK were tasting, but it didn’t come through for me. Lesson learned. I’m not going to bother adding the tea in the future.

Jars of Blueberry Jam

Our local pick-your-own had a few tart cherries in their farm store, but the season is pretty much over, and if they grow sweet cherries, I missed it. I bought some sweet cherries from my grocery store. Making the cherries in syrup was a process because I had to pit all the cherries, and I don’t have a cherry pitter. I’m not sure I should get one because I don’t think I’ll be preserving cherries in syrup a lot. They are extremely delicious, but the cherry season is so short. It seems like something I might do once a year. I did a search online to see how you go about pitting cherries if you don’t have a pitter. I found a video that recommends pushing a metal straw through the top of the cherry so the pit comes out the bottom. This might be a fine idea if you only have to pit a few cherries, but if you have to pit three pounds, it’s a bit tedious. Some of the cherries fought pretty hard to hold onto their pits. My hands were covered in cherry juice, and I made a big mess, but I got it done. I followed some additional advice in the ATK book about cutting a vanilla bean in half, scraping out the seeds and putting them in the syrup, and then cutting the bean in fourths and putting one section in each jar. Now, that did make the cherries have a hint of a vanilla flavor that was really delicious, but I don’t want to tell you what I paid for vanilla beans. It was shy of sacrificing my firstborn. I don’t know if the same effect can be achieved by using vanilla extract or not. In any case, I processed the cherries to practice using the canner again.

Cherries in Syrup

I tried some on vanilla ice cream, and they were delicious. They were not overly sweet—just the right amount of sweetness and that yummy hint of vanilla. Fruit in syrup can be cloying, but these were excellent. Perfect for vanilla ice cream.

Cherries on Ice Cream

I really enjoyed starting my canning adventures, and these two books are both highly recommended for anyone looking to try it.

Reading Roundup: May-June 2021

I haven’t written any reviews in a couple of months as I prepared to defend my dissertation and had little time to do much of anything but that, but the good news is that I am now Dr. Huff! Here is a picture of me and my dissertation committee right after my dissertation chair referred to me as Dr. Huff for the very first time.

Dana Huff Dissertation Defense

I can’t remember if I have written about it here or not, but I joined Noom and lost nearly 40 pounds since November 2020. One of the things I did to get active and lose weight was take up walking. I walk at least 10,000 steps each day, usually more. As I walk, I listen to audiobooks, which has pretty much been the only way I’ve been able to read as much as I have over this year. Here are some quick reviews of the books I read in May and June (so far).

I read and enjoyed Christopher Moore’s The Serpent of Venice, which is actually this book’s sequel, so after my husband and I listened to King Lear on audio, we decided to try this. If you like Python-esque humor, you’ll appreciate Christopher Moore.

This is a stellar book, and I’m glad I listened to it as I was able to rely on the narrator’s fluency with Vietnamese. I can see why the Goodreads review mentioned the books by Lee, Gyasi, and Ratner (all of which I’ve also read). If you liked any of those books, you will like this one for sure. I read this book as my selection for the Book Voyage Challenge’s book set in South Asia.

I learned so much from this book. I haven’t read very much about immigration and racism outside of the United States, and this book opened my eyes to a great deal of history I didn’t know. I really enjoy multigenerational family sagas. I read this book as my selection for the Book Voyage Challenge’s book set in North Asia. I read these last two books out of order, as I mistakenly thought the book set in South Asia was for April, but it was actually the book set in North Asia.

This book was given to me in a wonderful book swap I participated in via Twitter. I probably never would have picked it for myself, even though I love reading food histories. I learned a lot in this book, not the least America’s adoption of Chinese-American cuisine. I knew some of the fraught history with immigration, but there was still much to learn on that front as well.

I also re-read King Lear and A Thousand Acres.

Review: Cooked, Michael Pollan

Review: Cooked, Michael PollanCooked: A Natural History of Transformation by Michael Pollan
Published by Penguin Audio on April 23, 2013
Genres: Cooking, Nonfiction
Pages: 14
Format: Audio, Audiobook
Source: Audible
Buy on Amazon
Goodreads
four-half-stars

In Cooked, Michael Pollan explores the previously uncharted territory of his own kitchen. Here, he discovers the enduring power of the four classical elements—fire, water, air, and earth—to transform the stuff of nature into delicious things to eat and drink. Apprenticing himself to a succession of culinary masters, Pollan learns how to grill with fire, cook with liquid, bake bread, and ferment everything from cheese to beer. In the course of his journey, he discovers that the cook occupies a special place in the world, standing squarely between nature and culture. Both realms are transformed by cooking, and so, in the process, is the cook.

Each section of Cooked tracks Pollan's effort to master a single classic recipe using one of the four elements. A North Carolina barbecue pit master tutors him in the primal magic of fire; a Chez Panisse-trained cook schools him in the art of braising; a celebrated baker teaches him how air transforms grain and water into a fragrant loaf of bread; and finally, several mad-genius "fermentos" (a tribe that includes brewers, cheese makers, and all kinds of picklers) reveal how fungi and bacteria can perform the most amazing alchemies of all. The listener learns alongside Pollan, but the lessons move beyond the practical to become an investigation of how cooking involves us in a web of social and ecological relationships: with plants and animals, the soil, farmers, our history and culture, and, of course, the people our cooking nourishes and delights. Cooking, above all, connects us.

The effects of not cooking are similarly far-reaching. Relying upon corporations to process our food means we consume huge quantities of fat, sugar, and salt; disrupt an essential link to the natural world; and weaken our relationships with family and friends. In fact, Cooked argues, taking back control of cooking may be the single most important step anyone can take to help make the American food system healthier and more sustainable. Reclaiming cooking as an act of enjoyment and self-reliance, learning to perform the magic of these everyday transformations, opens the door to a more nourishing life.

Cooked is the first of Michael Pollan’s books that I’ve read, though I know he has written a few other books about food. I’m not sure I would have found Cooked nearly as interesting about ten years ago as I did this year. I liked the organization of the book into the four ancient elements. The section on barbecue (fire) was fascinating, though to be fair, I devour pretty much anything about African-American and Southern foodways. I am also a bread-baker, so the section about bread (air) was probably my favorite, and it convinced me to go back into Chad Robertson’s Tartine Bread, which I’ve had on my Kindle for some time and started reading a while back and never finished. Stay tuned for a review on that book because I’m nearly done with it (yes, I read cookbooks cover-to-cover on occasion).

I wasn’t as fascinated by the fermentation or braising sections. I’m not sure why because everything about sourdough starter fascinates me. I think it’s just that a lot of the food in the fermentation section isn’t really the kind of thing I like, so I wasn’t as interested to hear how to do it, and braising is a technique I just don’t really use in my own cooking. However, the organization of the book was interesting, and Pollan’s reading is engaging and entertaining.

I agree with Pollan’s conclusions that it’s a shame so few people really cook anymore. I really enjoy cooking, but it does take time. However, what we eat for dinner has drastically improved in quality since I started cooking more seriously. Honestly, I credit a meal subscription plan called Home Chef with teaching me a lot, and Samin Nosrat’s book Salt Fat Acid Heat was also really helpful. The main reason we stopped subscribing to Home Chef is that we received spoiled vegetables a few too many times, and I decided that I needed to be able to select ingredients myself from the store. The actual recipes provided were pretty great, and I still use them all the time to cook meals.

Pollan argues that we’ll eat less processed food and connect more with family (eating together is communion—that’s my argument, not Pollan’s). My husband usually sits in the kitchen while I cook, and we listen to audiobooks and podcasts together. He’s not really a cook, though I think he’s interested. In any case, I think we enjoy these evening respites. I know that regularly cooking dinner has meant we better and saved money, not to mention the time to connect. (We are currently listening to Anna Karenina.)

I definitely recommend this book to anyone interested in how cooking works—you’ll get a dose of science and history along with some fascinating cultural education.

four-half-stars

Review: A Better Man, Michael Ian Black

I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

Review: A Better Man, Michael Ian BlackA Better Man: A (Mostly Serious) Letter to My Son by Michael Ian Black
Published by Algonquin Books on September 15, 2020
Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction
Pages: 304
Format: Hardcover
Buy on Amazon
Goodreads
five-stars

“Raw, intimate, and true . . . A Better Man cracked me wide open, and it’s a template for the conversation we need to be having with our boys.” —Peggy Orenstein, bestselling author of Boys & Sex

A poignant look at boyhood, in the form of a heartfelt letter from comedian Michael Ian Black to his teenage son before he leaves for college, and a radical plea for rethinking masculinity and teaching young men to give and receive love.

In a world in which the word masculinity now often goes hand in hand with toxic, comedian, actor, and father Michael Ian Black offers up a way forward for boys, men, and anyone who loves them. Part memoir, part advice book, and written as a heartfelt letter to his college-bound son, A Better Man reveals Black’s own complicated relationship with his father, explores the damage and rising violence caused by the expectations placed on boys to “man up,” and searches for the best way to help young men be part of the solution, not the problem. “If we cannot allow ourselves vulnerability,” he writes, “how are we supposed to experience wonder, fear, tenderness?”

Honest, funny, and hopeful, Black skillfully navigates the complex gender issues of our time and delivers a poignant answer to an urgent question: How can we be, and raise, better men? 

This is an important book for our current moment. I found it helpful to understand the messages men receive about how to be “correctly” masculine, and I think we can lay many of our current societal problems at the feet of these dangerous messages. Readers looking for Black’s characteristic humor will find the subtitle accurate: the book is mostly serious, and I really appreciated the vulnerability and honesty of its seriousness. The book serves as a contemplative memoir, a poignant letter of love and advice, and a meditation on our world. I walked away from it feeling that Michael Ian Black is a good husband, father, and most of all, a good man.

I recommend this book most highly to men, but I learned a great deal from it, too. Most importantly, it gave me an understanding. I don’t believe all men are alike, and I don’t believe they are all horrible, but I freely admit I was reaching a point of despair over the ability of men—White men—to recognize their privilege and work on unlearning some of the most damaging messages they have received. If I had to pick a moment when this feeling started to take shape, it was when Justice Kavanaugh was confirmed. I recognized that man. I am pretty sure I went to high school and college with a lot of guys like him. And I was pretty sure Christine Blasey Ford was telling the truth. I was also pretty sure that Kavanaugh thought he was telling the truth, too. That might seem like a strange thing to say, but I think he felt entitled to do as he pleased, and I think he felt pressured to prove his masculinity through sexual conquest, and I think a lot of the boys in his friend group were doing the same things, which normalized and maybe even celebrated treating women as less than people, only useful as sexual objects. Because I remember what it was like to be a girl in the era in which Kavanaugh allegedly raped Blasey Ford. Black devotes a whole chapter to consent, and he explains the messages both girls and boys receive about consent and how they warp our ability to communicate sexual desire.

I admit things seem hopeless right now. We have a racist, misogynist person in the White House. He operates out of the most toxic and dangerous aspects of masculinity. Our civil rights champion, Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died yesterday. We are in the midst of a global pandemic that has completely upended our lives and taken the lives of a number most of us can’t fathom. The ending isn’t in sight. We are in the darkest part of the tunnel, or maybe the belly of the whale, and it is hard not to be resigned to despair. This book gave me a little bit of hope. It’s going to take some backbreaking work, but I’m comforted to know people like Michael Ian Black are doing their part for us.

five-stars

August Reading Update

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

I haven’t had much time to blog lately, but I am finding more time to read (finally). I successfully defended my dissertation proposal in late July, and since then, I have been working on a piece of writing for my action step—I’m writing a dissertation in practice, which means I have to actually DO something and write about how it worked out. In any case, I thought I’d share a list of the books I have read since my last book review along with short reviews of each. I have been trying to read more library books and not buy a lot of books. I am lucky that my local library has Overdrive, so I can read a lot of library books using my Kindle app. It got me through this quarantine, I can tell you.

  1. Flour, Water, Salt, Yeast, Ken Forkish: This is a great book about baking bread, and I learned a few things I didn’t know. I appreciate Forkish giving recipes in grams. I think it’s strange that Forkish’s recipes are almost always for 2 loaves, however. It seems like an odd choice. I also think he’s wrong about a few things (I know he’s more experienced than I am, but I haven’t found keeping instant yeast in the freezer kills it—it actually makes it last longer, in my experience). Still, I think it’s a great addition to my bread-baking library, and the one recipe I have tried so far turned out great. I initially checked this out from the library but then bought it. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★½.
  2. Notes from a Young Black Chef, Kwame Onwuachi: I listened to this on audio, and Onwuachi reads it. I thought this was an excellent memoir. Onwuachi has a really interesting story. I heard recently that he is now leaving Kith and Kin, so it will be interesting to see where he goes next. Owned, audio. Rating: ★★★★★
  3. Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, Ibram X. Kendi: This book is an excellent introduction to several key historical figures and how they represent ideas about racism or antiracism in their times: Cotton Mather, Thomas Jefferson, William Lloyd Garrison, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Angela Davis. I learned many things from this book. If I have one quibble, it’s that Kendi cites some secondary sources, and I think going back to the primary sources whenever he can would strengthen his arguments (not that I disagree with him, just that I think people who do will find his use of secondary sources a reason to poke holes in his arguments). Owned. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★★
  4. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Taylor Jenkins Reid: I really enjoyed this book about old Hollywood. I know Reid was partly thinking of Elizabeth Taylor, but Evelyn Hugo seems owes a small debt to Marilyn Monroe, too. The author hints early on that there will be a twist at the end, and yep, it’s a pretty good one. I really need to thank Taylor Jenkins Reid for getting me out of my reading rut. Checked out from the library. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★★
  5. Passable in Pink, Mike Sacks: This book is a spoof on John Hughes movies of the 1980s. You will recognize Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and maybe a few more films in the plot. The joke wears thin after a bit. I think the beginning is kind of funny, but then it starts to drag. Definitely listen to the audiobook with its great cast if you decide to read it. Owned, audio. Rating: ★★★☆☆
  6. The Leavers, Lisa Ko: OMG, this book is still in my head. I loved this book. It’s one of the best ones I read this year. It will have you thinking deeply about how the US treats undocumented immigrants and what happens to children adopted outside of their race as well. There are so many issues to think about. Well-meaning White liberals would do well to read this book. It’s incredible. You will think about the characters for a long time. Owned. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★★
  7. Dear Martin, Nic Stone: I think teens will really enjoy this book. It tells the story of a teenage boy who goes to prep school but has to contend with the racism of police officers. It will inevitably be compared to The Hate U Give and may be found wanting in that comparison (which probably isn’t fair), but it tells a different story and is worth a read. Checked out from the library. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★☆
  8. The Marrow Thieves, Cherie Dimaline: This book is set about 25-30 years in a dystopian future in which climate change has wreaked havoc on the world. People stop dreaming, and it makes them go insane and die. Somehow, they discover aboriginal people can still dream, and if their bone marrow is consumed, it can save the lives of non-Native people. The main character in this book is Métis, First Nations, and the book is set in Canada. It’s an interesting read, but I didn’t think it was as amazing as my teacher friends seemed to think. Checked out from the library. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★☆
  9. Heart Berries, Therese Marie Mailhot: Tommy Orange said this book was good, and parts of it are really poetic. I understand Mailhot is writing from the perspective of a person with bipolar disorder, but I had a hard time with her. She is married to the man she was dating in this memoir, and he seems like an asshole, so I guess to each her own, but he came off like a fuckboi in this book. This is a book I can appreciate on the one hand, but that I didn’t much like on the other. I can’t figure out how Roxane Gay gave this book 5 stars and only gave There There four. Checked out from the library. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★☆☆
  10. Consider the Fork, Bee Wilson: This a great little book about all the common kitchen implements and cooking tools we use. The fork is only one. Wilson talks about everything from plates to refrigerators. I learned a lot from this book, and the audiobook is charmingly narrated. Owned, audio. Rating: ★★★★½
  11. When the Beat Was Born: DJ Kool Herc and the Creation of Hip Hop, Laban Carrick Hill: This crossed my radar the other day, and I have to admit I learned from it. I felt like the author could have been more thorough in covering what happened to DJ Kool Herc later on. I know it’s a kids’ book, but leaving it out felt like a cop-out (spoiler: he had problems with drug addiction and sort of receded into the background of hip hop). Owned. Paperback. Rating: ★★★★☆
  12. Grading for Equity, Joe Feldman: I read this as part of some research I was doing. Feldman and I cited many of the same studies in our research. This is a great book, and I’d highly recommend all teachers read it. Owned. Paperback. Rating: ★★★★★
  13. The Only Good Indians, Stephen Graham Jones: I picked this up because Tommy Orange blurbed it. It is an interesting book, and I admit I’m not a huge fan of horror, but this book was pretty good, and I was able to handle the horror parts. I am still kind of wondering what happened. I have a theory, but I am not sure I’m right. Anyway, there is something under the surface about being a good steward of the land and empathy for all creatures that I’m still trying to unpack. I liked the writing, and I would read more by this author. Checked out from the library. Read on Kindle. Rating: ★★★★☆

Books I re-read:

  1. Daisy Jones & the Six, Taylor Jenkins Reid (I read this book twice this year!)
  2. 1919, Eve L.Ewing
  3. Counting Descent, Clint Smith (I guess I have never reviewed this, but it’s amazing)
  4. Revolution, Jennifer Donnelly
  5. There There, Tommy Orange (I also read this one twice this year, too.)

Review: Daisy Jones & The Six, Taylor Jenkins Reid

Review: Daisy Jones & The Six, Taylor Jenkins ReidDaisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Published by Ballantine Books on February 4, 2020
Genres: Historical Fiction
Pages: 384
Format: Paperback
Buy on Amazon
Goodreads
five-stars

Everyone knows Daisy Jones & The Six: The band's album Aurora came to define the rock 'n' roll era of the late seventies, and an entire generation of girls wanted to grow up to be Daisy. But no one knows the reason behind the group's split on the night of their final concert at Chicago Stadium on July 12, 1979 . . . until now.

Daisy is a girl coming of age in L.A. in the late sixties, sneaking into clubs on the Sunset Strip, sleeping with rock stars, and dreaming of singing at the Whisky a Go Go. The sex and drugs are thrilling, but it’s the rock 'n' roll she loves most. By the time she’s twenty, her voice is getting noticed, and she has the kind of heedless beauty that makes people do crazy things.

Also getting noticed is The Six, a band led by the brooding Billy Dunne. On the eve of their first tour, his girlfriend Camila finds out she’s pregnant, and with the pressure of impending fatherhood and fame, Billy goes a little wild on the road.

Daisy and Billy cross paths when a producer realizes that the key to supercharged success is to put the two together. What happens next will become the stuff of legend.

The making of that legend is chronicled in this riveting and unforgettable novel, written as an oral history of one of the biggest bands of the seventies. Taylor Jenkins Reid is a talented writer who takes her work to a new level with Daisy Jones & The Six, brilliantly capturing a place and time in an utterly distinctive voice.

I have been having a lot of trouble reading, and as it turns out, that’s completely normal during a global pandemic. I had started a few books, but I didn’t get too far into them (although I’m doing better with audiobooks as I find them less taxing). It finally dawned on me that the topics I was picking were too heavy and not escapist enough. What I really needed to do was immerse myself in a different world and time with something “light” (not necessarily in terms of subject matter, but definitely in terms of complexity). Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid came to my rescue.

The main reason I responded to this book is that I spent a good chunk of my high-school and college years immersed in 1960s and 1970s music—especially 1970s music. On my heavy rotation at that time were Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones (particularly Mick Taylor-era Stones, which is the BEST Stones), the Beatles, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, the Pretenders (more 1980s, but their late 1970s-very early 1980s stuff is my favorite), the Who, Elton John, Rod Stewart (actually, just Every Picture Tells a Story), and the Allman Brothers Band. I grew up listening to Fleetwood Mac, too, because my parents were fans. When Stevie Nicks released her album Bella Donna, I remember picking up my parents’ copy and staring at the vinyl sleeve, thinking that Stevie Nicks was possibly the coolest woman I had ever seen.

Bella Donna

I thought the way she dressed was magic. Her heels were impossibly high, and everything she wore simply billowed and floated. I definitely tried to dress up like her in my room with the door closed and dance in front of the mirror. The first full album I got on vinyl was Fleetwood Mac’s album Mirage. It wasn’t the first album I bought on my own, but it was the first full album I received as a gift, and I had asked for it for Christmas. I was in fifth grade. I had no clue about all the romantic intrigue and substance abuse Fleetwood Mac (or perhaps, more particularly, Stevie Nicks) were involved in when I was that young. All I knew is I liked them, and I always have. I named my oldest daughter after their song “Sara,” though I added the “h.”

It’s clear, and Reid doesn’t deny it, that Fleetwood Mac was a major inspiration for Daisy Jones & The Six; however, the novel captures more than a veiled retelling of the story of the making of Rumours. It’s really the story of the whole Laurel Canyon sound, the Southern California music produced by the likes of the Eagles, CSN, Joni Mitchell, and so many others. I have read and watched so many rock documentaries that reading this book was almost like an Easter egg hunt: which artist’s story inspired THIS incident? A good example is Daisy Jones and Billy Dunne communicating through their performance. If you watch this version of the Fleetwood Mac song “Silver Springs,” especially if you know that Lindsey Buckingham not only contributed some great guitar parts to the song (Spotify link), a post-mortem of Stevie Nicks’s and Lindsey Buckingham’s breakup, but he also fought to have it removed from Rumours. It was released as a B-side to “Go Your Own Way,” Buckingham’s own response to their breakup. “Silver Springs” didn’t really receive its due until this recording for The Dance in 1997. You tell me Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham aren’t working through some stuff during the climax of this song:

There are moments when Reid describes Daisy and Billy’s chemistry in the same way. Don’t you wonder why Buckingham put so much work into that guitar part only to insist the song be practically buried for nearly 20 years? What about the fact that Nicks had to sing backup on “Go Your Own Way,” knowing it was about her and feeling what he claimed in the lyrics was untrue: “Packing up / Shacking up is all you want to do”? Honestly? They’re STILL feuding. Buckingham claims that Nicks had him fired from Fleetwood Mac in 2018. I personally believe that he’s one of the greatest and most underrated guitarists—no one tends to think of him when compiling their listicles. Rolling Stone ranked him 100 out of their 100 Greatest Guitarists. I have many problems with their ranking; this is only one of them.

Some of the sniping, particularly on the part of Eddie, recollects the relationships among members of the Eagles (they did call their reunion concert “Hell Freezes Over”) and, to a certain extent, Styx (if you have seen that episode of Behind the Music—wow—Dennis DeYoung and Tommy Shaw hate each other). Even more modern groups like the Civil Wars and perhaps the Black Crowes inspired Reid. I haven’t seen Reid mention Chris and Rich Robinson in interviews, but they do remind me of Billy and Graham Dunne. Daisy Jones may owe a little bit to Janis Joplin and Bette Midler’s character in The Rose, too.

Knowing these stories was part of the fun of reading it for me, but I think folks who don’t have knowledge of the Southern California music scene in the 1970s could still enjoy this book. The book captures the scene so well that no previous knowledge is needed. I particularly enjoyed the passages describing photography for the band’s album cover and the final concert and drama in the hotel. I also think Reid’s documentary format worked well. I have heard the audiobook is great. I am looking forward to the miniseries that is set to air through Amazon’s streaming service. I have seen some reviews that didn’t like that format, and others who quibble with the notion that the band is fictional, which requires more imagination when they are discussing their music, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked that aspect of the book.

The publisher made a playlist on Spotify which is really good, though the last song doesn’t work for me. There is a mix of more modern music that seems to fit the mood of the book. I’m thinking about making my own playlist with strictly 1970s tunes, but here is what Random House came up with:

five-stars

These Fevered Days: Ten Pivotal Moments in the Making of Emily Dickinson, Martha Ackmann

These Fevered Days: Ten Pivotal Moments in the Making of Emily Dickinson, Martha AckmannThese Fevered Days: Ten Pivotal Moments in the Making of Emily Dickinson by Martha Ackmann
Published by W. W. Norton Company on February 25, 2020
Genres: Poetry, Nonfiction
Pages: 304
Format: Hardcover
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five-stars

An engaging, intimate portrait of Emily Dickinson, one of America’s greatest and most-mythologized poets, that sheds new light on her groundbreaking poetry.

On August 3, 1845, young Emily Dickinson declared, “All things are ready”—and with this resolute statement, her life as a poet began. Despite spending her days almost entirely “at home” (the occupation listed on her death certificate), Dickinson’s interior world was extraordinary. She loved passionately, was ambivalent toward publication, embraced seclusion, and created 1,789 poems that she tucked into a dresser drawer.

In These Fevered Days, Martha Ackmann unravels the mysteries of Dickinson’s life through ten decisive episodes that distill her evolution as a poet. Ackmann follows Dickinson through her religious crisis while a student at Mount Holyoke, her startling decision to ask a famous editor for advice, her anguished letters to an unidentified “Master,” her exhilarating frenzy of composition, and her terror in confronting possible blindness. Together, these ten days provide new insights into Dickinson’s wildly original poetry and render a concise and vivid portrait of American literature’s most enigmatic figure.

I have been waiting to read Martha Ackmann’s biography of Emily Dickinson, These Fevered Days, for a few years. Ackmann was one of my instructors at a weeklong workshop on Emily Dickinson’s life and work sponsored by National Endowment for the Humanities. In fact, she read the second chapter of this book to us during one session. At that time, she was contemplating calling the book Vesuvius at Home.

The conceit of this book, that ten days changed Emily Dickinson so that she was “different, say, at ten o’clock at night from how she was at ten o’clock that morning” (xviii), is novel and works well, especially considering Dickinson’s life has been the subject of much biographical writing (in spite of her more interior existence). While Ackmann engages in a bit of speculation about what her book’s subjects were thinking or doing, it rings true, and I know for certain that Ackmann’s conjecture is based on solid research. For example, she obtained permission from the Director of the Emily Dickinson Museum to go into the attic of the Dickinson home so that she could ascertain the “certain slant of light” in the room and read Shakespeare aloud, as Dickinson did, in order to determine what that experience was like so that she could render it properly. Dickinson proclaimed that “the rafters wept” at her own reading. Ackmann has also taught a course at Mount Holyoke on Emily Dickinson for years—even bringing her students into the Dickinson home to study her work. Having been a student of Ackmann’s for only week, I’m still not afraid to say she has lived and breathed the poet’s life and work for years, and that knowledge shines forth in this book. The final chapter on Dickinson’s final day of life is rendered especially poignant. Rather than witnessing the passing of a great poet, Ackmann made me feel like I had witnessed the passing of an old and great friend.

Even if you’ve read biographies of Dickinson before, you’ll want to read this book for its intimate portrait of the moments that changed Dickinson’s life. As Ackmann acknowledges, other Dickinson scholars might choose different days, but Ackmann focuses on the following:

  1. The day Dickinson decided to write.
  2. Dickinson’s decision not to commit herself to Christ at the behest of Mary Lyon, principal of Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, where Dickinson was attending school.
  3. Emily Dickinson’s first publication (despite popular belief, she did publish a few works anonymously in her lifetime).
  4. Dickinson’s decision to bind her poems together in fascicles and preserve them (Christanne Miller’s book Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them is a wonderful resource for more on this).
  5. Dickinson’s work on F124 “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” with her sister-in-law Susan Gilbert Dickinson’s advice.
  6. Dickinson’s remarkable decision to write to Thomas Wentworth Higginson (who was living in my home city of Worcester, MA at the time) after reading his article “Letter to a Young Contributor” in The Atlantic Monthly and begin a lifelong correspondence and friendship.
  7. Dickinson’s brush with blindness.
  8. The first meeting of Emily Dickinson and Thomas Wentworth Higginson.
  9. The publication of Dickinson’s poem F112 “Success is Counted Sweetest” in the No Name series after much cajoling by her friend Helen Hunt Jackson.
  10. The day Emily Dickinson died.

Reading this book was extra special for me because I had the opportunity to visit Dickinson’s home on several occasions, and I was even permitted to take photographs. I was able to visualize the moments Ackmann describes with greater clarity—I felt like I was there, and not only because of my memories of the Dickinson homestead but also because of Ackmann’s precise description.  Check out Ackmann’s article at The Paris Review for some exquisite photos of Emily Dickinson’s dress. Even though the dress on display at the museum is a copy, I’ll never forget the first time I saw it. I was visiting Amherst for my birthday, and we were touring the Dickinson home. Our guide led us upstairs, and the dress was there on the landing. The light streamed in through the window and illuminated it. It truly took my breath away. One might almost have thought Emily Dickinson herself was standing there. After that thought, my second thought was, “She was so tiny!”

Emily Dickinson means a lot to me. Her poetry brought me comfort after a very difficult loss. Martha Ackmann’s book is well worth your time if you’d like to indulge in a delightfully intimate portrait of the poet in some of her most momentous events.

Emily Dickinson's Bedroom
Emily Dickinson’s Bedroom © Dana Huff
Emily Dickinson's Grave
Emily Dickinson’s Grave © Dana Huff

Note: Please do not reproduce these images. I am permitted to share them as long as I do not seek to profit from them, but I am not able to control what happens to them once they are stolen, and I have pursued websites with DMCA takedown notices for taking these images without permission or credit.

five-stars