Tag Archives: non-fiction

Three optimistic reads for a cold spring

Hi y’all. It’s time for an overdue report on what I’ve been reading these days. Being a bookworm, and having the kind of job with long spells of nothing to do, I have the luxury of reading in a very quiet office for at least a couple hours per day. Not to mention my reading time on the bus and train headed home in the evenings. And don’t let us forget reading time at home at night or on the weekends, with a tasty treat nearby and a warm pile of pillows and blankets all about. Okay, no more warm pile of blankets moving into the summer, but you get the idea.

My last book review was over two months ago (shivering in horror), and I’m happy to say that my friend Jenny noticed the thundering silence on the literature front and gently kicked my butt. Thanks Jenny for reminding me that writing about food is not my only calling in life and that I need to keep the ‘everything’ in the ‘Everything Blog.’

Anyway, if you’re one of those people (like me) who panics when there’s no book lying around, nab these from your library and enjoy! All three of these books are optimistic, positive, and altogether perfect for keeping your spirits high during this cold and grey spring. Can I mention that it snowed here in Chicago just last week? Yep.

Cheaper by the Dozen (by Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth)

What a fun frolick through the memoir of an entirely unique family! Written by two of the dozen children of the family, this book recounts the adventures and daily life of a family with twelve kids. Frank and Lillian (the parents) are both pioneers in the field of motion study and efficiency. With twelve kids, they use their scientific background to turn a potentially chaotic household into a well-oiled family machine (I mean that in the best of senses). Their enterprising father is determined to teach his kids all he can; he instructs them in morse code by painting the walls of their summer cottage with patterns and writing them secret messages every morning, makes them play language records in the bathroom to teach them French and German as they bathe, and paints the constellations on the ceiling so that the kids learn to recognize star formations. The results: twelve industrious, smart, independent, interesting kids whose capers provide endless entertainment to the reader. I read this book when I was young, and thoroughly enjoyed it for the second time as an adult. That said, this would also be fantastic bedtime reading for kids–the chapters are short enough that you could easily do one per night. The point of view is honest but humorous.

Please note–this book has absolutely nothing to do with the movie starring Steve Martin. Nothing at all except for the fact that there are 12 children involved. I’m appalled that the movie producers were allowed to use that title when the subject matter is entirely different. What is this world coming to??

Anyway, I’m hopping off my high horse to add that the sequel, ‘Belles on Their Toes’, is equally awesome, recounting how the kids adapt and manage when their father dies suddenly of a heart attack and their mother has to go back to work. The kids form a Budget Committee, haggle for discounts to make ends meet, buy food in bulk, and truly come into their own as they live out their father’s independent, fighting spirit, always with an eye on the humorous side of life.

A Girl Named Zippy (by Haven Kimmel)

I finished this little treasure a few months ago, and I’m already itching to re-read it. It’s a memoir by a Hoosier. Along with ‘Cheaper by the Dozen,’ that fully puts me in the realm of non-fiction! Yesss!! Are you proud?

It is told in the most delightful way–though recounted from the perspective of the author as a little girl, the writing is clearly meant for adults, just like Angela’s Ashes. However, there is much less tragedy than you will find in Angela’s Ashes, in case that comparison put you off. Yes, this memoir could easily have been spun as a morose tale of difficulty and sadness with a good dose of ‘woe is me’ tossed in for good measure, but the author takes a completely different direction, and through her series of childhood vignettes manages to infuse her story with optimism and a happy kind of energy.

There are shadows of dark things around–a neighbor boy who is cruel to his pets, a creepy old woman across the way, an abusive teacher–but the memoir itself is full of light and humor and joie de vivre.

I laughed out loud many times, and I was moved to tears by it as well. Maybe because I was born in Indiana, the Call of the Midwest really hit home. I’ve met these people she talks about, I’ve seen their living rooms and I’ve had beer in their yards. I recommend this book wholeheartedly.

Up The Down Staircase (by Bel Kaufman)

Please read this. Really. It’s that funny. It’s a fictional account of a teacher’s first year teaching school. Sylvia Barrett is fresh out of college, full of idealism, and ready to take on her first batch of kids at Calvin Coolidge and inspire them with a love for literature. What she encounters is a classroom full of unexpected challenges: battles with the administration, a window that won’t open, insufficient copies of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ to go around, and a passionate fight for the success of kids who have given up on themselves.

This novel tells its story very uniquely, combining memos from the Principal, notes from kids that were tossed in the trash, notes from the suggestion box that Sylvia starts, and Sylvia’s personal letters to a college friend. At first I was worried that the story wouldn’t come together and would seem patchy and random, however Kaufman weaves all these ‘materials’ together beautifully into a story that is extremely funny, extremely insightful, and extremely touching all at once. Give it a few chapters, and you will be absolutely hooked to this masterpiece.

What have all y’all been reading lately? I’m always looking for something new to pop into my library request list!

The Last American Man

I thoroughly enjoyed this biography of Eustace Conway, written by Elizabeth Gilbert, and finished it buried under and afghan on my very first snow day last week. My friend Vessie recommended this book, and as soon as my local library was kind enough to get the volume to my branch, I devoured it. I haven’t ready Gilbert’s more famous novel ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, since nobody I’ve come across has enthusiastically recommended it. But this book is another story. I enthusiastically recommend it. And Vessie enthusiastically recommends it.

Wow. My fingers are exhausted from typing out “enthusiastically.” Seriously–type it out three times in a row and your finger muscles will start feeling strangely weak.

Ah, the hard life of an office worker and blogger.

Anyway! Gilbert writes from an enticing perspective, as a personal friend of the Conway family. She interviewed not only Eustace, but his family, friends, acquaintances, and students in order to get a full-bodied view of who he is. I think she did a fabulous job at being objective but also adding that intimate note that only a personal friend could achieve. Her praise of him is exuberant, but not unfettered. I think she presents a wonderful, multifaceted portrait of a man who may seem very simple on the outside, but who has massive complexities hiding right underneath his wildman’s skin.

This is a man who got straight A’s in college, and lived in a teepee during his entire undergraduate career. He roamed the campus in bucksin, and gutted and skinned an animal on the first day of his Anthropology class, to the wonderment of his classmates. He dumpster dives, and picks up roadkill for dinner. He sews his own clothes, and gives himself stitches if he suffers an injury. He hiked the entire Applachian Trail, surviving on whatever he could hunt or gather along the way. He even rode a horse across America from coast to coast. About his cross-continental horseback ride, he said “Right now I’m as free as anyone in America. It’s so satisfying to be here, away from responsibilities, I wish more people had the simple life.”

Eustace sees himself as a Man of Destiny, a kind of missionary to the American people, encouraging them to reconnect with nature, make a change, and ultimately move back into the wilderness. Gilbert ties the story of Eustace’s life into the story of the American frontier, in which (unlike the European story of manhood with involves citifying the peasant boy) men leave the city and strike out into the wilderness. Likening his combination of wily business sense, initiative, and love of nature to men such as Davy Crockett or Daniel Boone, she places him in a truly fascinating historical context.

The story was a little heartbreaking for me. Eustace’s father (also named Eustace) was very hard on him, and you can see that trait reflected in Eustace himself, especially as it plays out in his romantic relationships. He is so driven that there almost seems to be no room for tenderness, or for compassion. Interestingly enough, Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone were also the sons of violent and irate fathers, and they fled to the frontier to get away from their childhood homes, much as Eustace did when he was 17.

Gilbert closes out the book with a very personal question, wondering if Eustace will be able to achieve his dream of finding love, and marrying a woman who will be 100% behind his mission. She surmises that it comes down to a question of control: can he let go enough to allow the disorder of love into the meticulous and well-structured universe he’s built around himself?

This book gave me a lot of personal food for thought, especially since I was simultaneously reading Philip Yancey’s excellent book “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” It struck me that sometimes the most brilliant and driven people of this world, the geniuses so to speak, have the most trouble offering grace to others. And not just the geniuses, but each of us in our area of greatest strength. For example, it’s hard to be tolerant of slow learners when you understand things immediately. I remember having this very struggle when I was in high school Math, and floundering students would ask me to study with them and prep them for the exam. I hope I came across as a kind and willing helper, but inside I frequently had a slew of ungracious thoughts: What’s their problem? I got it as soon as the teacher explained it! They’re probably just not trying. From there, it’s only a skip and a hop to a state of contempt–or perhaps it already is.

While reading about this man of brilliance, I was reminded that as much as we can and should work to perfect our God-given talents and personal strengths, they all begin as gifts. Gifts! Some people are smarter. Some people run faster. Some people are whizzes with languages, while others can’t seem to hack up enough phlegm to really nail that French ‘R.’ Some people are excellent spacial visualizers, however some are directionally impaired (cough cough . . . um, me). And I find that we are tempted to be ungracious with others particularly in our areas of strength. We desperately need humility, because pride drives out love. I need to tell myself (and tell myself often) that it doesn’t matter if I’m right, and it doesn’t matter if my way is best if I am lacking love. Contempt and pride can get the job done, sometimes in a very practical and extremely efficient way, but they will stagnate love at its very roots. Grace and humility, on the other hand, are the channels through which love can freely flow.

Anyway, read ‘The Last American Man’–I guarantee it will provoke you to thought in many areas, and entertain you to boot. Which is everything that a good book should deliver.