The Long-Beaked Echidna. Check this thing out! Ah!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Letters to Guernsey
Latest Book Review :)
I consider myself a relatively observant person. As such, I have noticed that historical fiction is not everyone’s favorite genre. Nevermind that as a history major and avid reader, I have a hard time understanding said people; I’ll cut them some slack and make allowances for differences in taste.
However, for those of you who were embittered against history by a boring class or uninspiring teacher, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows might go a long way to changing your outlook. Set directly after World War II in London and Guernsey Island, the novel is told through a series of charming, though sometimes tragic letters. As a result of a coincidence, the main character, Juliet Ashton, begins a correspondence with several Guernsey Islanders who make up the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (you’ll have to read the book to learn more about the society). The letters relate the story of the Island’s occupation during World War II and show the way in which the main characters’ lives are changed through close friendships and a shared sense of honor.
I’ll admit that I didn’t know anything about Guernsey Island prior to reading this book. A stretch of land about 25 square miles that has bounced back and forth over the centuries between England and France, the Island was primarily used in trade. From 1940-1945, Guernsey Island was occupied by Nazi forces hoping to use the Island’s close proximity to England as a military advantage. During the occupation, the Germans cut off all communication with the outside world. Radio, newspapers, and letters were outlawed. Although their treatment of the Islanders was initially lenient, starvation and cruelty occurred toward the end of the occupation.
Though at times sober and heartbreaking, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society was on the whole, uproariously funny. I recommend this novel to everyone in need of a good book and an uplifting story. With the stresses of everyday life and knowledge of worldwide suffering, it’s sometimes nice to remember that sometimes, human beings can rise to the occasion and improve the lives of others.
Go ahead, read Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. You’ll like it.
I consider myself a relatively observant person. As such, I have noticed that historical fiction is not everyone’s favorite genre. Nevermind that as a history major and avid reader, I have a hard time understanding said people; I’ll cut them some slack and make allowances for differences in taste.
However, for those of you who were embittered against history by a boring class or uninspiring teacher, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows might go a long way to changing your outlook. Set directly after World War II in London and Guernsey Island, the novel is told through a series of charming, though sometimes tragic letters. As a result of a coincidence, the main character, Juliet Ashton, begins a correspondence with several Guernsey Islanders who make up the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (you’ll have to read the book to learn more about the society). The letters relate the story of the Island’s occupation during World War II and show the way in which the main characters’ lives are changed through close friendships and a shared sense of honor.
I’ll admit that I didn’t know anything about Guernsey Island prior to reading this book. A stretch of land about 25 square miles that has bounced back and forth over the centuries between England and France, the Island was primarily used in trade. From 1940-1945, Guernsey Island was occupied by Nazi forces hoping to use the Island’s close proximity to England as a military advantage. During the occupation, the Germans cut off all communication with the outside world. Radio, newspapers, and letters were outlawed. Although their treatment of the Islanders was initially lenient, starvation and cruelty occurred toward the end of the occupation.
Though at times sober and heartbreaking, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society was on the whole, uproariously funny. I recommend this novel to everyone in need of a good book and an uplifting story. With the stresses of everyday life and knowledge of worldwide suffering, it’s sometimes nice to remember that sometimes, human beings can rise to the occasion and improve the lives of others.
Go ahead, read Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. You’ll like it.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Book Review For Monica
Here's my latest...
It may seem strange, but since my graduation from U of A last year, books have become an addiction of mine. I always enjoyed reading–you don’t become an English major unless you like the written word; however, through my high school and college years (2000-2008), I was required to read books related to course material, not my own interests. With the demands of school, this left me little time to expand my mind. Eight years of drought! Fortunately, as a result of my status as a full-time worker bee, that has recently changed. I am now at liberty to enjoy any book I choose. Needless to say, I am giddy with intellectual freedom.
For those of you who remember the books you were forced to read in high school, J.D. Salinger’s most famous work, The Catcher in the Rye may stand out as an atypically pleasurable read. Written in the mid-twentieth century, the novel became an adolescent call to arms and general favorite. Salinger’s other work is less known, at least for those my age, likely because they weren’t requirements for junior English.
I have recently had the good fortune to discover Salinger’s Franny (1955) and Zooey (1957) on the recommendation of a friend. Both short stories were originally published in The New Yorker, but later distributed as one volume. In Franny, Salinger explores the way in which an American college student portrays a false identity in order to be liked. Although obviously brilliant, Franny is a pretender. She is unhappy, but unsure of the cause, searches for meaning in literature and religion. The reader witnesses her emotional descent and struggle to find herself through Salinger’s skillful dialogue.
Zooey is Franny’s disillusioned actor brother. He has not dealt with the death of his eldest brother and is unhappy in the state of his career and interactions with others. Zooey longs for something about which he can be passionate. Zooey’s desire to demonstrate excellence in his chosen field causes him anxiety to the point of paradoxically lowering his standards.
Both siblings are lost in different stages of young adulthood, in ways in which I have sometimes felt lost myself.
Young people sometimes mistakenly believe that once they graduate from college with a degree, they will automatically know what they’ll want to do with their lives. Salinger’s work makes different claims. I identified with the dilemmas of both Franny and Zooey because I, and many of my friends, had moments of identical confusion during college, and this past year. Like Franny, I searched for meaning in literary texts. Similarly to Zooey, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but knew I wanted to be passionate about my career. These themes hold true for almost everyone moving into a post-collegiate existence.
Although Franny and Zooey were written in the 1950s, Salinger’s cultural references somehow remain relevant. Both short reads, they are the perfect complimentary introductions to the stress of growing up without a clue as to your direction. Salinger approaches the issues of young adulthood with humor and philosophical insight. I see myself in the characters he portrays because they are so universal. I would recommend this work to anyone at a crossroad, but especially college graduates.
It may seem strange, but since my graduation from U of A last year, books have become an addiction of mine. I always enjoyed reading–you don’t become an English major unless you like the written word; however, through my high school and college years (2000-2008), I was required to read books related to course material, not my own interests. With the demands of school, this left me little time to expand my mind. Eight years of drought! Fortunately, as a result of my status as a full-time worker bee, that has recently changed. I am now at liberty to enjoy any book I choose. Needless to say, I am giddy with intellectual freedom.
For those of you who remember the books you were forced to read in high school, J.D. Salinger’s most famous work, The Catcher in the Rye may stand out as an atypically pleasurable read. Written in the mid-twentieth century, the novel became an adolescent call to arms and general favorite. Salinger’s other work is less known, at least for those my age, likely because they weren’t requirements for junior English.
I have recently had the good fortune to discover Salinger’s Franny (1955) and Zooey (1957) on the recommendation of a friend. Both short stories were originally published in The New Yorker, but later distributed as one volume. In Franny, Salinger explores the way in which an American college student portrays a false identity in order to be liked. Although obviously brilliant, Franny is a pretender. She is unhappy, but unsure of the cause, searches for meaning in literature and religion. The reader witnesses her emotional descent and struggle to find herself through Salinger’s skillful dialogue.
Zooey is Franny’s disillusioned actor brother. He has not dealt with the death of his eldest brother and is unhappy in the state of his career and interactions with others. Zooey longs for something about which he can be passionate. Zooey’s desire to demonstrate excellence in his chosen field causes him anxiety to the point of paradoxically lowering his standards.
Both siblings are lost in different stages of young adulthood, in ways in which I have sometimes felt lost myself.
Young people sometimes mistakenly believe that once they graduate from college with a degree, they will automatically know what they’ll want to do with their lives. Salinger’s work makes different claims. I identified with the dilemmas of both Franny and Zooey because I, and many of my friends, had moments of identical confusion during college, and this past year. Like Franny, I searched for meaning in literary texts. Similarly to Zooey, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but knew I wanted to be passionate about my career. These themes hold true for almost everyone moving into a post-collegiate existence.
Although Franny and Zooey were written in the 1950s, Salinger’s cultural references somehow remain relevant. Both short reads, they are the perfect complimentary introductions to the stress of growing up without a clue as to your direction. Salinger approaches the issues of young adulthood with humor and philosophical insight. I see myself in the characters he portrays because they are so universal. I would recommend this work to anyone at a crossroad, but especially college graduates.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The Red Balloon
I just finished reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. Within the work, Kundera writes about such things as loss, flawed humanity, infidelity, sex, love, death, the Communist regime, and feces. Overall, the book was thought-provoking and imaginative. It made me think differently about what I had considered life's certainties. The philosophical melding of plot and theory was very interesting. However, the chapter that most resonated with me, that actually made me sob, was Kundera's description of a dog's cancerous death. The dog was faithful, intelligent, and loved the main characters in a way that cannot be duplicated through one-on-one human interactions. Tomas and Tereza were forced to end her sufferings themselves and held her in their arms as she died.
I think I was so moved because the love of a favorite animal is an unselfish love. They rely on you completely. In the end, they die before us. We are forced to witness our dogs' pain. To suffer their loss. I don't know why I identify more with the pain or death of domesticated animals more than with the human equivalent. Maybe I feel this way because I believe animals are not the creatures Decartes described.
The idea that animals don't have souls is preposterous.
I think I was so moved because the love of a favorite animal is an unselfish love. They rely on you completely. In the end, they die before us. We are forced to witness our dogs' pain. To suffer their loss. I don't know why I identify more with the pain or death of domesticated animals more than with the human equivalent. Maybe I feel this way because I believe animals are not the creatures Decartes described.
The idea that animals don't have souls is preposterous.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
So Creepy It's Spectacular
Dissection at the Yale School of Medicine around 1910.
I don't know why I felt the compulsion to post this--maybe because it depicts a time before gloves or because it's just so deliciously disgusting. Anyway, enjoy.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Tattoo, Tattoo, Tattoo
This is again looking more and more like something I should consider tattooing on myself.
Into My Own
by: Robert Frost
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew--
Only more sure of all I thought was true.
Into My Own
by: Robert Frost
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew--
Only more sure of all I thought was true.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Bonking
I'm sure this version will be edited, but I really enjoyed writing about this lady. "Bonk" was great. I loved reading it. Bonk: A Learning Experience
The author of Stiff, a history of the scientific life of cadavers, is at it again. The title of Mary Roach’s latest book is enough to catch anyone’s interest. It’s edgy, offbeat, and very fitting. Although Bonk is a slightly silly title, it is a very appropriate name for a New York Times bestseller that combines hard, researched fact with Roach’s oftentimes hilarious personal experiences on her quest to discover the modern scientific community’s take on the verb “to bonk.”
As a concept, Bonk is singularly interesting. Roach studies the history of scientific inquires into human sexuality and physiology over the last century. She condenses the studies and gives a general explanation of the researched findings to readers unfamiliar with the intricacies of human sexuality. Moreover, the puns, witty footnotes, and oddities described are truly inspired. I laughed out loud on more than one occasion, and it wasn’t even due to my discomfort and uneasiness with some of the material.
Despite the subject’s obvious capability for raunchiness, Bonk is never vulgar. Roach approaches a historically taboo subject with pragmatic frankness and praises the efforts of the sexual research “pioneers.” Roach describes the difficulties involved for researchers who are unaffiliated with pharmaceutical sexual research with several examples. More often than not, they cannot be funded because they are viewed suspiciously by the public and grant reviewers alike as possible “perverts.”
With little known scientific facts and unapologetic and unembarrassed honesty, I would go so far as to suggest that this book be given to teenagers to debunk common misconceptions. Bonk may have made my journey through young adulthood a less confusing endeavor. In my opinion, there’s only so much an educational class or parents’ hedging can accomplish with jaded teens. More knowledge equals more self-confidence and better decisions. Plus, the upside is that the read is actually pretty funny.
Despite my praise of Mary Roach’s Bonk, I will ask you to take notice: Bonk is not for the faint of heart.
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