To Kindle or Not to Kindle?

I'm getting ready to travel tomorrow.  It will take me the entire day to get from UT to upper NY.  Eleven hours, a shuttle and two airports, gone for a week. 

This is the first extended trip I've taken since receiving my Kindle as a gift from my husband.  Had I not already become enamored with it, I would have today as I packed.  One device - with a dozen novels to choose from and interesting non-fiction to explore.  Neatly tucked in my purse.  No tote bag full of books, just in case. No hoping they have a decent bookstore in the next airport.  Such convenience, such luxury!

To think I resisted the very idea of an e-reader.  I was sure the reading experience would be diminished without the feel, the smell of a 'real' book.  What about the pleasures of a bookstore, it's visual feast of color and print, sharing recommendations with a stranger, perusing purchases over a Starbuck's latte?

I still read 'real' books.  Mostly non-fiction, but the occasional fiction I know I'll want for my personal library shelves.  And I still go to our local Barnes and Noble to check out new arrivals, to share recommendations with strangers, to peruse (ok, on my Kindle) a recent purchase.  Because, for me at least, it's not either/or.  It's both/and.

 

 



 

 



 

 





The Destiny of the Republic

If it were not the September selection of our book club, I would have missed a wonderful book about an intriguing period in our history and a largely unforgotten and unappreciated man, the assassinated President James A. Garfield.  Like many people, I suspect, I don't read much history.

Candice Millard didn't set out to write about Garfield.  After her popular and highly acclaimed River of Doubt, the tale of Theodore Roosevelt's journey up the Amazon, she didn't want to write about another president. Her intention was to write about Alexander Graham Bell.  In her research, and she does extensive research, she discovered that Bell had worked to the point of exhaustion and near despair on an invention that he hoped might save Garfield's life. And The Destiny of a Republic was born.

Bell's toil remains an interesting sub-plot, one of several, in Millard's narrative; for as the subtitle describes, this is "a Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President."
In the long run, Bell's effort could not overcome the havoc and destruction generated by the very physicians, led by one Dr. Doctor Bliss (no kidding!), with Garfield's recovery. Doctors who probed and poked the wounded president with dirty hands and dirty instruments, who kept him in the then rotting and rat infested White House, bringing on the massive internal infections that ultimately caused his death.  That caused him to "rot" from within, unnecessarily as it turned out.

Although Joseph Lister's antiseptic techniques were accepted and successfully practiced in Europe, they were largely demeaned and dismissed by traditional and arrogant American physicians. The dangerously delusional, grandiose assassin, Charles Giteau, recognized the horrible culpability of Garfield's doctors, when at his trial he stated, "I shot the President; the doctors killed him."  An indictment that an autopsy would confirm, although Bliss was never held accountable.

Millard's rich narrative style, built upon her skills as a researcher, analyst and editor, deliver history and its characters with a panache that would/should make any history professor green with envy.  Garfield, Bliss, Giteau and a cast of several supporting characters are as well developed as any in a good novel.  And what a movie this could make!

But, while I always appreciate strong character development, it is the larger historical, political, and medical context that Millard creates that I found most riveting and educational. I frequently heard myself saying, "I didn't know that."  Then, "Why didn't I know that?"  As I wandered through the multi-layered tableau of the beleaguered American post-Civil War landscape, the corrupt political environment, the barbaric medical practices, I also wandered through a surprising array of emotions.  Anger and dismay, respect and incredulity, cynicism and hope, and ultimately tearful sorrow at the needless, excruciating death of what appeared to be a remarkable human being. 

The remarkable man that emerges through his letters, and diaries, through the loyalties of other remarkable individuals - an educated, thoughtful, strong and compassionate man -would Garfield have made a remarkable president?  Would he have been allowed to?  I can hope the answer to both questions would/could be yes.  I do know with certainty, however, that in The Destiny of the Republic Candice Millard has created this convert to historical narrative.  And I will wait patiently for her next book.  In the meantime, I'll go back and finish The River of Doubt.



Organizing for the Creative Person

"Many wonderfully talented people have been able to create anything and everything - except order.....they have a hard time attending to details, keeping things where they belong, finding what they need, getting to places on time, following through on projects, and so on.....a tendency toward brain dominance or preference makes it difficult for some of them to get organized in the conventional ways."

These lines, taken from the third paragraph of the introduction to Organizing for the Creative Person by Dorothy Lehmkuhl and Dolores Cotter Lamping, C.S.W., were enough to convince me to buy this book 15 years ago. Written by an organization consultant and a psychotherapist, it is more than another how-to manual extolling methods that work for those already inclined to be tidy, methodical and punctual.  It offers dozens of practical, down-to-earth strategies and techniques designed to help us right-brain dominant folks find an organizing style and system that can work for us.

And they work.  I can attest to this, as I am now, finally, organized. In my way. It has taken awhile, having some fun in the process, experimenting with different ideas. With recommendations of these authors. But items now have a specified place and, most often, can be found there. I use baskets and totes instead of file cabinets - have finally accepted that it's better to accept "out of sight, out of mind " than to deny it.  I am an expert with a label gun.  Carry a small notebook with me wherever I go - love my notebooks! Our closets, cupboards and drawers are orderly - and, the greatest testimony I can give, my husband is ready to follow my lead in the garage!

If this isn't enough to recommend this book, let me add that, first published in l993, it is still in print and still pertinent.  A most valuable resource.



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I Remember....

It remains a mystery to me how a long forgotten memory will suddenly surface, seemingly out of the ethers.  This morning, on waking and thinking 'book club today', a sudden image caught me a bit offguard.  A little girl, a 1st grader, tearing down the school hallway, primer in hand, a toothy grin on her face, "I can read!  I can read!"

This memory - 35 years old now, the situation - my first principalship in a primary school of 350 youngsters, K-3rd grade.  From families of what today we refer to as the working poor.  A school staffed by teachers who, for the most part, loved teaching and loved their students. Teachers who informed me at my first staff meeting that they hoped, no, expected that I would support what they saw as the primary mission of the school.  Not only to teach these youngsters to read, but to love to read.

I did.  And they, for the most part, succeeded in their mission. I did my best to support them.  I would drop in to observe reading lessons, to listen to youngsters read or to read to them.  Do whatever I could to send the message that their principal as well as their teacher thought reading was important.

Eventually, it became a regular practice for youngsters to be sent to me to share their progress.  But this particular morning, this particular girl - not merely progress but a major breakthrough!  She had come to the school that September, a first grader who could not read a single word.  Who seemed overwhelmed by the very possibility, often frustrated to the point of tears by the challenge of connecting symbol to sound.  What the key was that opened the door to the wonders of reading for her I can't recall.  But I remember who turned it - one dedicated, perseverant, patient, caring teacher. I remember that little girl's unbounded joy as she flew into my arms and started to read her little book.  I tear up today as I type this.  I remember it like it was yesterday.

SOS!!!

I recently took some time to list the books I've read this year.  Partly because I like the sense of accomplishment from seeing all the titles and partly because, given the diversity of style and genre I've been reading, I was curious to see the range on paper.

I'm not sure I captured them all, but I managed to outline the bigger picture.  Could see shapes and color, and a few interesting details.  Books and authors I'd most likely never have read were it not for the quality of the two book clubs I discovered. Others recommended by my brother.  A couple books that are now among my all-time favorites.

Overall, though, pretty heavy-hitters.  Award winners, history, interesting (if not always pleasant) character studies.  Several rather dark and broody, excellently written, but definitely dark and broody.

Hence, my SOS!  I'm seeking something lighter.  Not exactly cotton candy, say, a good sundae.  Think Janet Evanovich or Alexander McCall Smith.  Any recommendations out there??



The Sense of an Ending

Let me start by stating this is not a review of this novella by the acclaimed British author, Julian Barnes.  There are excellent reviews available on-line by critics whose experience and skill are far superior to mine. This is a flat out recommendation, an endorsement. 

I'm an aging bibliophile who could be accused of having indiscriminate tastes - I do admittedly love a good mystery and will read People magazine at the dentist's office.  But I also know the difference between the ordinary and the sublime when it comes to good writing and am always deeply appreciative when I come across the latter.  And Julian Barnes is a wondrous writer, one of the few who inspires me to read everything he's written. (To date, I've read a few essays, an autobiographical work and this amazing novella, but have already downloaded two of his other novels on my Kindle.)  A writer whose clarity and insights repeatedly make me pause and reread a sentence or paragraph, relishing every moment and green with envy.

I've read The Sense of an Ending, the 20ll Booker Award winner, twice now. The first time on my brother's recommendation, the second for my book club (on my recommendation).  It is not a novel for readers who seek a good "yarn" or who have to like the characters.  Or as a fellow club member clarified for me, who want characters they enjoy spending time with. And I'm not sure readers under the age of 40 will identify with the themes of this novel - one being how we can reinvent our history to think better of ourselves - but if you value eloquence and dry humor, if you appreciate writing that makes you think long after you have finished reading, that assumes you are intelligent, if you are in a reflective frame of mind, read this book. 



The Right Time, The Right Place

With all the books I want to read, and those I am committed to read, I've unexpectedly picked up The Sound of Paper, by Julia Cameron, a book I started and failed to complete in the past. Picked it up recently, and this time, can't put it down for very long. I'm not just reading it, but diligently, daily in fact, working with the written exercises that accompany each of her essays. I guess it's just the right time, the right place this go round.

I've had this experience before - books that I start and put down, unable to sustain interest or effort, or to find value in. Some I've given away. Others shelved or boxed, sometimes even moved across country. To be opened again, sometimes years later, enjoyed, even cherished. Meeting a new need or satisfying a new interest.

I've also had the experience of a book, usually in a bookstore, beckoning me the way chocolate truffles call out whenever I pass Mrs. See's. A clever title, a fascinating cover, any book designated a Booker Award winner - I can spot them across a crowded room.

So, lured by the title as well as its gentle cover, I was prepared to become absorbed in The Sound of Paper.  I also had enjoyed Cameron's more popular The Artist's Way and was looking forward to stretching my creative wings. But Paper has several short essays, thus, many more exercises, and I soon felt bogged down, unwilling or unable to maintain momentum, too busy with other demands to give it the attention it deserved. Whatever -packed it away and forgot about it. For over five years.

Today, I'm retired, learning to draw, exploring different writing venues, intrigued by the creative process - no wonder it is the right time and the right place. Thank heaven I didn't give it away.



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