Katie Stew

“The Giver” by Lois Lowry is a beautiful book. It has been a favorite of mine since I was a child. I have read it many times, and it is just as wonderful each time I read it. I suppose the book is for children or young adults, but I think it is a book for everyone.

I suppose the book should be classified under the science fiction genre, but it is more than that. It is a coming of age story. A story about understanding the importance of being an individual. A book about the dangers of conformity.

It is a story about a boy named Jonas who lives in a community where everything is under control. There is no fear, war or pain, but there is also no color, music, or love. It is a community of safety and sameness. Decisions are made for everyone in the community. Everyone wears the same things, rides the same bikes. People submit applications to be given a spouse and applications to acquire children for the family unit. It is a place where no one is rude and no one has to make choices for themselves, because choices are dangerous. It is safer to just make everyone’s choices for them.

Jonas is about to turn 12. At the age of 12, everyone is assigned their jobs. The jobs they will do for the rest of their lives. Jonas is given a job that gives him knowlege unlike anyone else in the community. He learns about what life was like before sameness. He learns about love and color and loss and pain. He learns what the world can be like without sameness. He learns how wild and painful and beautiful it could be.

It is a story about a boy who learns that nothing is actually as it seems. That is a painful realization for any child, but the scope of the revelation for Jonas is immense. He comes to realize that life without love and danger and beauty is no life at all.

It is also a story about a futurist society that is as disturbing as “1984” or “Brave New World”. Just because it is written for young people doesn’t mean that it isn’t truly thought provoking and important. This book belongs in the halls of great sci-fi and great books in general.

I could read this book over and over again. I suggest you do the same.

Last night my bookclub met to discuss “Skinny Legs and All” by Tom Robbins. We had chosen to read another book by Tom Robbins after we had all loved “Jitterbug Perfume” so much last year.  Unfortunately, the consensus on this book was not good.

I’ve been done with this book for weeks and wanted to write about it, but I like to wait on the bookclub books until after we’ve met so that I can get other opinions. However, I didn’t really care for the book going into the meeting last night and I left with the same opinion heading out.

Now, this is not a terrible book. Don’t get me wrong here. But it is a book that I’m just really apathetic about. It was fine. There were moments that were really entertaining or interesting, but all in all it was just kinda, “meh”. It was anticlimactic and seemed to have a hard time deciding what the point was.

For example, there was a lot of interesting discussion of religion. My favorite part of the book was when he was describing the institutionalization of religion. He says that when religion started, we were like fish in pools of murky water. Searching and leaping around for inspiration. It was mystical, full of magic and mystery and our souls were hot and gritty and part of the earth. Then the idea of religion as institution came in. The fish were taken out of the pools and placed in farms and aquariums. We stay below the surface and are fed predetermined bits of processed fish foods and ideas. Those that jump above the surface looking for more are considered zealots and mystics and are soon put down by the farmers and caretakers, the politicians and priests. Those rebel fish are considered dangerous. He also noted that religion today doesn’t talk about the Soul as much, which is an earthy, vital idea, but talks instead about the Spirit. Air instead of Fire and Earth. He said that institutionalized mysticism is no mysticism at all. I thought his argument was really interesting and well written.

Also, a lot of the story was about art. The question was what makes an artist, what qualifies as art? One of the main characters believes she is an artist and strains to create things that are new and interesting. Her husband is a welder who decided to make something interesting one day and becomes an art sensation. She has a hard time coming to terms with what should count as art and what truly makes an artist. Is it success or something deep within the personality?

There is also a lot about the middle east and about the creation of the new temple and the problems of war, religion, and politics in that area of the world.

And did I mention that in addition to the main, human characters there is also the story of four inanimate objects trying to reach the holy land from the Midwest?

There was a lot going on.

The characters were fun in this story. The talking, moving inanimate objects were fun. There were some interesting points on art and religion. But the problem was that none of them formed a cohesive framework for the story. The “climax” of the story was too leaden with all of these ideas that had been tossed around. It was full of exposition and thought when it should have been fiery and fun.

Maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe it is hard to read something mediocre after finishing something fabulous. Either way, this is not a book that I need to read again. I didn’t hate it, but I wouldn’t recommend.

Where has the month of May gone?

It has “gone with the wind which had swept through Georgia”.

Say what?

Well, for me a big chunk of it was spent home sick. I had an on again, off again cold for about 2 weeks. It was brutal. So, I didn’t cook a single interesting thing. (We lived on pasta and soup. I didn’t know until a few days after I made my chicken noodle soup how terrible and bland it was. It is hard to season when your can’t taste anything.) I did a little bit of painting, which I’m eager to put up in a separate post. But mostly I watched a lot of tv, (I discovered the show Bones on my Netflix Instant Watch and fell in love with it) and I read. In fact, I made it all the way through “Gone with the Wind”. It was epic.

I’ve read “Gone with the Wind” once before. It was when I was in junior high school. I didn’t really remember much about the experience other than that I liked the book and thought it was pretty much the same as the movie, but with some extras. I have a deeper appreciation of the novel this time.

First of all, it is one of the most epic things that I’ve ever read. In terms of depth and girth this novel is immense. Around 1,000 pages, the novel spans a time frame of about 12 years. It contains in it the Civil War and the early years of Reconstruction. It looks at these momentous times through the eyes of the heroine, Scarlett O’Hara. Scarlett witnesses  the fall of the South, an end to the life she knew, the burning of Atlanta, death and pain in wartime hospitals void of  medicine, the struggles of reconstruction, and still had time to marry three men and have a child by each of them. This book is epic on a social level, a deeply personal level, and it holds one of the most brilliant love stories ever told.

So, other than being in awe of the book’s size and scope, the characters that Margaret Mitchell created are memorable, stunning, and so full of life that you feel like you truly know them and would not be suprised to see one of them walk right into your room.

Scarlett O’Hara. One of the most well-known literary characters of all time. How does one begin to sum her up? I’m going to go with strong. Scarlett begins the novel as a young, spoiled girl on a wealthy plantation surrounded by adoring suitors. She is selfish, silly, and generally unconcerned with anything in the world other than men and clothing. However, her fortunes change wildly in a very short span of time. The Civil War begins. She is married to a man she doesn’t care about and widowed shortly after, left at 17 as a mother. As the times around her become harsher, so does she. The novel often talks about how during the war a hardness starts to form around her heart. She is forced to grow up. After the burning of Atlanta, she becomes responsible for a large number of friends, servants, and family members. They are forced to do hard physical labor for the first time in their lives to feed themselves. It is at this time that the iconic quote, “‘As God is my witness, and God is my witness, the Yankees aren’t going to lick me. I’m going to live through this, and when it’s over, I’m never going to be hungry again. No, nor any of my folks. If I have to steal or kill – as God is my witness, I’m never going to be hungry again.'” is spoken. Scarlett is forced to become hard. Forced to carry a heavy burden. It is survival of the fittest and Scarlett doesn’t let anything get in her way. She is a selfish, conniving, cutthroat character. She gets more and more ruthless. She steals, kills, and ruins the lives of others. However, despite her hardness, she is brave. She takes care of those she is responsible for, at least in some ways. She is a pioneer for women. She owned a business at a time that it was scandalous. “A startling thought this, that a woman could handle business matters as well or better than a man, a revolutionary thought to Scarlett who had been reared in the tradition that men were omniscient and women none too bright.” She threw off social conventions. She was a rebel that only looked out for number one.

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I just finished “The Pat Conroy Cookbook: Recipes and Stories of My Life”.

It was wonderful.

If I was ever to write a book, I feel like this is the kind of book I would want to write. It is a cookbook in the sense that it is full of recipes, but it is really more like the most enchanting autobiography you’ve ever read. It is full of wonderful, enchanting stories and is sprinkled with a generous helping of recipes that make my mouth water.

Now, I had never heard of Pat Conroy. So when my mother, or I suppose “Santa”, gave me this book for Christmas this year, I was pleased, in that I always love books of any kind and especially cookbooks, but I wasn’t super excited. I should have been. Pat Conroy is the author of such well known books as “The Great Santini”, “The Prince of Tides” and “Beach Music”. He is a lover of the deep South and hails from Beaufort, South Carolina.

I can’t believe that my entry to the world of Pat Conroy is through his cookbook. However, I am now inspired to read everything he has ever written because this book is just so splendid. Who has ever heard of a cookbook making you laugh and making you teary-eyed? The stories are as rich as the recipe for “Dunbar Macaroni” and as charming as the recipe for “Sandra’s mama’s pound cake”. Which is to say, very rich and charming.

This is a book and a cookbook that make you wish you were a southerner, or if you are one, make you wish you were more of a Southerner. Or, in my case as a Southerner far from home, makes me wish I was down south. It makes me think I am overdue for a trip to New Orleans and that it is about time that I go see Georgia.

I love this excerpt from his book:

“When I refer to myself as Southern, I am talking about the part of myself that is most deeply human and deeply feeling. It is the part of me that connects most intimately and cordially with the family of humankind. There are qualities of grace and friendship and courtesy that will always seem essentially Southern to me, no matter where I encounter them on the road. Then I told my daughter that I never appreciated the South until I left it for the first time. And that the reason you travel is to find out who you really are and what you really believe.”

I think his language is just beautiful, the imagery stunning, and so descriptive that you can taste every morsel that he describes. When he is finished with a food story, you know exactly how light and fluffy the meringue was. You know how salty and subtle the taste of oysters are when they are dug and served on the same day. You know the joys of barbecue and casseroles. You know that you want to be Southern. Most of all, you know the joy that Pat Conroy takes in food, language and life.

He is now on my list of people to invite to my dream dinner party.

Go and get this book. You’ll be glad you did.

Last week I read “Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession” by Julie Powell.

I really disliked it.

The fact that I disliked it so much makes me really sad. I met Julie Powell, figuratively speaking, through her first book, “Julie and Julia”. “Julie and Julia” is a charming, smart, and sassy book. A book about a woman trying to find her way in life and trying to do so through a massive cooking project. In one year’s time, she cooks all of the recipes in Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. “Julie and Julia” brought Julia Child to my attention. She opened up this wonderful, interesting woman’s work for a new generation. After finishing Powell’s book, I immediately bought a copy of “Mastering”. (Have I cooked anything out of it? Not really, but my intentions are good.) I also read Julia Child’s biography, “My Live in France”, which is a wonderful read. It is also about a woman who finds herself through cooking. It is an inspirational and lovely book that I would highly recommend. I even loved the movie of the book! I personally think they should have made it into 2 movies instead of juxtaposing the two books against each other, but that’s just my opinion. Poor Amy Adams just couldn’t compete with Meryl Streep in the film. They shouldn’t have been set up against each other like that.  

I’m getting off topic.

Basically, I loved all things about “Julie and Julia” and was very excited to get into her follow up novel, “Cleaving”. I finished it very quickly. Unfortunately, it is because I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I came to learn that I don’t like Julie Powell at all. Maybe it is safer to say that I don’t understand her. That I’m disappointed in her.

“Cleaving” takes up not long after “Julie and Julia” took off big. It seems that in the wake of her success, Julie doesn’t know what to do with herself. She has found success. She has the support of her sweet husband that stood by her with all her craziness with the Julia Project. And yet, she feels lost. Unsatisfied. Unsure what to do now. So what does she do? Starts an affair with a man she knew from college. She becomes completely obsessed with him. She torments her doting husband with all of her deceit and sneaking around. And, she writes about it!

Reading the book made me so uncomfortable. Imagining her husband reading the book, full of stories about the encounters with her lover, stories of how she would sneak to the bathroom to send raunchy text messages, how she bought presents for him while on vacation with her husband, was just painful. How hard it must have been for him to sit down and learn the gory details. It was hard for me, and I am just a bystander.

So, while Julie is all “lost” and obsessed with her affair and unsure about her husband, she decides to learn butchery…. Ok. Kinda random, but not unheard of. However, the only place she can find to teach her is about 2 hours from her home. Fleisher’s butcher shop became her safe haven. It was her retreat where she learned a craft and could focus on it for a few hours each day and not worry about the turmoil of her life. We as the reader learn all about different cuts of meat, where they come from, and how they are taken apart. That section of the book is actually kind of interesting.

Maybe the worst part of the book is how she knew that she was making terrible choices. She acknowledged that the affair was a bad idea. She knew it wasn’t going anywhere, but she just couldn’t shake wanting to be with him. She knew she was hurting her husband, the only one who really understood her, and she kept doing it anyways. It was hard for me to imagine. Impossible to relate to. And impossible for me to feel pity for Julie. All the nights she described in the book where she would get drunk and cry herself to sleep over the mess she was in, over missing her lover and hurting her husband, were meant to make us pity her and I just found myself angry and frustrated. The selfishness. Disregard for those who care for her.

Sigh.

I don’t know. Maybe I am being too harsh on Julie Powell. I had an image of her built up in my head. The image of a very relatable woman. A woman who needed direction and found it. Someone to admire. But it turns out she is just a human, and a really messed up one at that. I’m just so disappointed in her. But how can you be disappointed in someone you don’t actually know? Maybe reading this book was an experience like how she felt at the end of “Julie and Julia” when she learned that Julia Child was dismissive about her project and didn’t like her. She ended up realizing that it didn’t matter that the real life Julia Child wasn’t a fan of hers. What mattered was the version of Julie Child that had accompanied her in her mind through all her adventures. The version that was supportive and helped her find herself.

I’m going to try and forget that I read “Cleaving”. I think it was a mistake of her to write the book. I’m going to stick with the image of Julie Powell in my head that I had before. I would suggest that if anyone else has that image, they avoid “Cleaving” entirely.