Nancy Pearl really built up my expectations for Whales on Stilts. It was cute, but it didn’t meet my expectations. The characters were supposed to have that 1950s-style two-dimensionality, or maybe even one-dimensionality, but they weren’t quite clever enough to sustain it for a whole book. I think Whales on Stilts would have made a great short story. I’m actually considering returning it, which is extremely unusual for me.

The Golem’s Eye is book two in the Bartimaeus trilogy, following the Amulet of Samarkand. It’s a good second book in the trilogy, not quite as much fun as the first book, but continuing to develop the characters and the larger themes of the first book. I love the wry wit of the Djinni, Bartimaeus, and the long-term political discourse of the series. It’s a nice pro-democracy, anti-facist children’s book and it isn’t too preachy on those themes. Plus the way that magic is handled in the book’s world seems entirely plausible — people who can harness it have most of the power and exploit it for themselves. This is in sharp contrast to the world of Harry Potter, where magicians and magical society just want to be left alone, hidden from the rest of the muggle world.  I wish I had enough self-control to stop myself from buying it in hardcover, but I don’t regret buying it in general.

The best book of the bunch is Waifs and Strays, by Charles de Lint. It’s a collection of stories with teenage main characters, set in a number of de Lint’s locales, including my personal favorite, Newford.

The best story in the book is the one new story for this collection, "Sisters." It features Apples and Cassie, the main characters from "There’s No Such Thing," an earlier story in which older sister Appoline (Apples) rescues Cassie from being sexually assaulted by a teenage male babysitter, and because Apples is actually a vampire, she feeds on the perp and then kills him. Cassie doesn’t know that Apples is a vampire, but in Sister’s she figures out that something is strange and wrong with Apples…and eventually, she learns the truth. I don’t want to give anything away, but these characters are a must read for Buffy fans, and the story includes some lighthearted references to the series.

 

This is a wonderful book, facinating, uncomfortable, and full of subtle humor.

The Human Stain is set around the fictional "Athena College" in western Masschusetts — a pretty thinly veiled Smith College. The main character was a Classics professor and a Dean for 40 years, until a comment he makes about 2 students who haven’t show up for class in the first 5 weeks of school, "Are they spooks?" is taken as racist. Ultimately, he resigns in fury and disgrace.

The main theme of The Human Stain is secrets. Every character has a secret that they would rather suffer extreme humiliation than reveal, even — perhaps especially — to those closest to them. And many of them DO suffer extreme humiliation, sometimes in their own minds, other times in the eyes of their community, but not necessarily in their own minds.

This book was made into a movie not long ago, which I haven’t seen. I can’t imagine the subtlety of the book successfully making the transition to the big screen. But I’ve heard that it was a good adaptation, so I may look for it. I liked being surprised by the plot twists and unfolding of the secrets in the book, so I would recommend the book first.

 

This was a fantastic book, and a great way of setting the context of living in Atlanta. In fact, in January, I spent a lot of time looking for a good recent history of Atlanta, and everything I found then stopped at roughly the election of President Carter. Shame on the bookstores where I was looking, for not having this book in that section.

Where Peachtree Meets Sweet Auburn is the history of Atlanta, told through the family stories of two families of Atlanta leaders, one white and one black.

The white family, the Ivan Allens (Senior through IV), is an elite business family whose civic and political work shaped Atlanta’s experience through successfully making Atlanta’s desgregation experience far more peaceful than that of many other American cities, especially in the South. But the context of those decisions is a familial context, and the leadership and pressure of four generations of leaders named Ivan Allen takes a toll. This book is honest and analytical, both about the successes and the difficulties.

The black family is the Dobbses, who produced Maynard Jackson, Jr, the first black mayor of Atlanta. This was also both remarkable, impressive, tense, and difficult, and the book is equally honest and analyitical in recording their familial history.

Like the work of J. Anthony Lukas, whose book Common Ground, won the Pulitzer Prize, this is an incredibly readable, compelling story, with the various pieces weaving together in both predictable and unpredictable ways. At the same time, it gives a good "flavor" for the politics and civic communities of Atlanta.

May 232005
 

I had an idea this evening, that I’m extremely excited about.

I think I should write a book, or probably, a series of books, about computer safety for kids.

There are some good kids internet safety books written for parents. But parents and teachers need to teach kids about how to be safe online.

I think the audience that really needs these books is little kids, early readers, like ages 4-9.

The first draft has come out really instructional and not that fun.

I might need to re-write it like a story.

I’m not going to post any of the drafts up here, but if you want to read it, or if you know the perfect illustrator, email me or comment below and I’ll send you a draft.

 

I really liked this book. It was imaginative, icky, heartwarming, funny, and very difficult to review without giving too much away. There are battles and friendships with underground humans, rats, spiders, and cockroaches, which Gregor must handle while protecting his two year old sister and looking for his long-lost father.

Gregor the Overlander is a great portrayal of a compassionate, struggling, frustrated, scared kid, who has had to deal with real hardship in his life. But when things suddenly get weirdly worse, Gregor rises to the occasion.

 

I remember the first time I read a book of Molly Ivins essays.

It was Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She?, and I bought it in hardcover, even though I was a broke graduate student.

The first thing that made me fall in love was the introduction. She talked about reading this essay by a woman anthropologist from the University of Wisconsin, who studied a species of monkey that lived in Brazil. Part of what she studied was their diet, and how she studied it was she and her graduate students tracked these monkeys, recording what they ate, and then trying to catch their shit for lab analysis.

Fortunately, mostly what these monkeys at was the leaves of cinnamon trees, so this wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as it sounds.

Ivins thought this was a perfect analogy for the life of a political writer.

Not only did I love the analogy, but at the time, I was working as an office assistant 15 hours per week for the University of Wisconsin’s Anthropology department. I think I’d made 500 copies of that article, and Karen Strier had a very readable, fun writing style that I’d enjoyed as much as Ivins. And fortunately, Strier was also a nice, encouraging person. There were a few faculty members that it would have annoyed me to see Ivins praising their work.

I don’t have the same kind of personal connection to this book that I did to the earlier one, but I still loved it. It may even be better than her earlier work. Ivins is at her best describing and analyzing the peculiarities of American political personalities.

This book is apparently a "retrospective" of Ivins work, a fact that seems to unnerve her a little bit, and one that seems sad to me. But she has had serious illnesses in the last few years, and her most recent books have been cowritten with Lou Dubose of the Texas Observer. But the good thing about collections like that is that we DO get the opportunity to see what Ivins considers her career best work.

It also includes my new favorite political quotation, from Huey Long, the eccentric populist governor of Louisiana from 1928-32:

If totalitarianism comes to this country, it will surely do so in the guise of 100 percent Americanism.

I can’t add anything to that, other than my hope that this truth becomes more widely recognized, especially in the context of the "nuclear option" debate about whether or not to eliminate the tradition of the filibuster in the US Senate right now.

Huh. Google just informed me that Long, when he was a US Senator, filibustered an attempt to end Senate confirmation for senior employees of the National Recovery Administration, and perhaps other bills he thought favored the rich. Knew I liked him.

 

 

I counted yesterday, and Jill is going to be here in 24 more days!!!

I am SO excited.

Even better, we will be seeing a lot of each other between now and then. First, we’re meeting in Charleston, SC, on Saturday, for my cousin Andrew’s wedding.

Then, I go to DC on Tuesday for a 2 day work related event. Since I was already scheduled to go back to DC on Friday, I’m going to work remotely on Thursday and Friday. I’ve also taken the following Tuesday off, since it’s Final Scene Night for Jill’s Shakespeare class. So I will actually be in DC for a full week, including Memorial Day weekend.

(Have I mentioned how annoyed I am that final scene night is the Tuesday after Memorial Day weekend? I would really like to have gotten out of the city, either city.)

Anyway, I return to Atlanta on Wednesday, and Jill comes that weekend. And she STAYS!!! And WE live in Atlanta. Together!!!

So while it is technically 24 days before she arrives, we’ll only be apart for a third of that time.

Yes, that’s me bouncing off those walls.

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