Category: Nonfiction

February & March Book Roundup 2020

On By onehappybookwormIn Fiction, Lists, Miscellaneous, NonfictionLeave a comment

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I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced two months quite like February and March of this year. The world has changed so quickly, and now it feels like my normal life has come to a stop. Finding my new normal has been a challenge, but I’m grateful because if managing a new routine is my worst problem then I’m a very lucky person. In the spirit of staying positive, one of the best things that has come of this for me is that I have much more time to spend reading, so here’s a breakdown of everything I’ve read since January.

The Red Daughter by John Burnham Schwartz

This is a fictionalized account of Svetlana Alliluyeva’s life. Stalin’s youngest child and only daughter, she defected to the US in 1967. This narrative covers her experiences as she tries to find her way in a new country while also trying to maintain a connection with her past and the children she left behind in the Soviet Union. Spanning decades, the novel follows her relationship with the lawyer who helped to navigate her initial escape. I enjoyed this novel but I didn’t love it; at times it felt like it dragged on. I also didn’t like the way Svetlana’s character was portrayed which made it hard to love.

From Russia With Blood by Heidi Blake

Another Russia focused book! This one was a riveting nonfiction read. It covered a series of state-ordered attacks on Russian enemies in foreign countries, focusing mainly on Great Britain. These murders were committed via stealthy poisons that made deaths look accidental or health related. Despite mounting evidence that showed Russia (and the Kremlin) was behind the attacks, the UK and US governments refused to acknowledge the deaths as murder which eventually led to their own civilians being potentially harmed. This was an eye-opening book on recent history and foreign politics; it was both thrilling and terrifying to read.

Patsy by Nicole Dennis-Benn

Patsy is a single mother in Jamaica who dreams of living in the United Sates. Led on and encouraged by her best childhood friend, she leaves behind her daughter to move to New York in hopes of a better life. Once there, she faces the cruel reality of life as an undocumented immigrant and the realization that her friendship isn’t what she imagined it would be. The novel follows both Patsy and her daughter as they grapple with her decision and the impact it has on both of their lives. I enjoyed this novel, but I did feel that there were some side plots that weren’t fully explored. These plots took time away from the main story, and I would have preferred to explore the main story in more depth.

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

I’ve had this book on hold from the library since its publication date in November and I was happy to finally get a chance to read it. Many of my bookish friends were disappointed with this one, so I went into it expecting it to be subpar. I’m not sure if we just have different tastes or if having low expectations allowed me to enjoy it more, but I liked this book. There were many different storylines and characters to keep track of, which sometimes was hard to do, but I liked the mystery of piecing everything together. It was a fantasy novel set in a world of books, what could be better?

The Moment of Lift by Melinda Gates

“Our call is to lift women up – and when we come together in this cause, we are the lift.” In this book, Melinda Gates shares the lessons and stories she’s learned from people around the world whom she’s met as part of her work with the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. In an effort to find solutions for the world’s most vulnerable populations, Melinda (and the foundation) began to see that empowering women is the key to improving societies and has the power to change the world. She shares data and statistics alongside inspiring and heartbreaking stories, and even includes details from her personal experiences as a woman, wife, and mother. While some of the stories were devastating to read, the overall message of empowerment carried through. This book opened my eyes in some ways and broadened my understanding in other areas. It was both an uplifting take on how far we’ve come but also a stark reality on how far we still have to go.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

Sometime during the past few years I’ve realized that I haven’t read much classic literature. AP English could only cover so much, and I was a business major in university so there’s a lot of recommended reading that I’ve missed out on. In an effort to correct that I’ve tried to include a few classics in my yearly book lists, and The Count of Monte Cristo was the most recent. In my last post I shared more details about how much I loved this novel, so here I’ll just say it was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time.

 

Next up…

I’m so excited about the books I have coming up in my to-read pile! Travel might be impossible due to current events but books will be taking me to Spain, Chile, Costa Rica, Russia, and different regions in the US. I can’t wait to share more details!

 

January 2020 Book Roundup

On By onehappybookwormIn Fiction, Historical Fiction, Lists, Memoirs, Nonfiction, RomanceLeave a comment

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The beginning of the year is always a time to reflect on the previous year and set intentions for the new year, but as usual I’m a little late to that party. I do know how many books I read in 2019 (38) and that only a fraction of them were nonfiction (25%), and both of those numbers mean that I missed my targets (40 and 50% respectively). But the fun thing about reading is that it’s a hobby so it doesn’t matter at all what those numbers are! The only downside to reading fewer books is that my to-read list has grown exponentially faster than the number of books I’m capable of finishing; my list spreadsheet is currently sitting at 351. Oops.

On the upside, I started off strong in January and finished 5 books! This is thanks in part to being sick over a weekend and spending a solid chunk of time on airplanes last month, but I’ll take the win. On top of that, three of them were nonfiction, so if I keep up this trend then I will surpass my goals from last year. I guess we’ll see how long this momentum lasts…

Anyway, my first book of 2020 was In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson. Larson has a special place in my bookworm heart because his The Devil in the White City was the first nonfiction book that I absolutely loved. Thanks to him I had the courage to step out of the familiar literature section of the bookstore, and it’s been an amazing journey ever since. Unfortunately, I didn’t love Beasts as much as White City, but I found it an interesting albeit dark read. It follows a year of events in Berlin starting in 1933, with the focus centered on the US ambassador to Germany and his adult daughter. From a history perspective, it provided more details on specific events and attitudes of various people in the beginning of Hitler’s rise to power. It was eerie to read some of the accounts when I knew what hell and horror awaited the world over the next ten years, but that dark edge is what I enjoyed most in the book. What I didn’t like was that a lot of the source material was based on journals, letters, and unfinished manuscripts, so I felt like I had to read everything with a critical eye and that there might be more to the story that I was missing. Maybe that’s just a byproduct of living in the fake news era, or maybe that just means I’ve grown to be a more critical reader. Also, I didn’t care for the ambassador’s daughter. Had I been alive in 1933 I’m pretty sure we would not have been friends.

Moving on to (fictional) people that I would want to be friends with, my second book of the year was The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes. I really enjoyed this book, which was surprising to me because I was expecting it to be a bit of a dud after all the press it received ahead of publication. It follows a small group of women who run a mobile library in the backwoods of Kentucky, despite facing personal hardships and ire from many of the people in their community. The plotline was a bit much (it covered everything from marital problems and illegitimate children to natural disasters and racy courtroom trials) but the characters at its heart made it worthwhile. I think each of the women, but especially Alice and Margery, were very well flushed-out and felt like they could be real people. I felt connected to their challenges and was totally invested in wanting to know how their stories ended.

Third on my list was Call Them by Their True Names by Rebecca Solnit. This collection of essays fell a little flat for me, but I think that was based more on my attitude and interest rather than the quality of writing. I had been so looking forward to reading this in December, but by the time I started it in January I wasn’t as into it. I enjoyed how Solnit presented her views; she discusses the linguistics of the Trump era and challenges incorrect uses of language to highlight problems in our current society. However, I found myself skimming some of the essays rather than really reading them. I just didn’t feel drawn to what I was reading in the way I thought I would. I think I’ll pick this collection up again at some point in the future, I want to give it a fair shot when I’m more in the mood for this type of content.

Next up on my reading list was How to Stop Time by Matt Haig, which was a little out of left field for me. This is one of those rare books that magically appeared in my life without ever landing on my epic to-read list. I found it in the laundry room in my apartment building. There’s an area where people sometimes leave unwanted items (pots, fans, old Christmas decorations, etc.) and one day I saw a book on the pile. I grabbed it without really looking at it, and it’s been sitting on my shelf for months. When I was sick for a few days I wanted to read something light and fluffy, so I picked it up again. It’s about a man who ages incredibly slowly- he was born in the 1500’s but looks to be about 40 in the 21st century. He’s part of a society of people like him, and their purpose seems to be to live, keep their lives secret, and limit interactions with regular humans. The novel covers his growing disillusionment with the society, his inner conflict about a potential love, and his desperate attempt to find his daughter from his first marriage in the late 16th century. It was a fun sci-fi/romance/history hybrid and was the perfect light read for a sick day.

The last book I read in January was anything but light, but it was easily the best that I read last month and might be my best book of 2020 (yeah, I’m calling it early). The book was Know My Name by Chanel Miller, and damn did I feel things. Chanel was the woman who was sexually assaulted while unconscious by Brock Turner- you know, the piece-of-shit former Stanford student who was found guilty and convicted of sexual assault yet was only sentenced to 6 months in prison because apparently his skin color, wealth status, swimming accomplishments, and male gender made him more important than minimum recommended sentences for sexual assault felons. Chanel, known at the time only as Emily Doe, wrote a profound victim impact statement that was published on Buzzfeed and instantly went viral. I can remember reading it in my office at my old job and feeling like I was punched in the gut. She held nothing back. In many ways her book is an expansion on that original statement. My physical reactions were just as intense; I couldn’t read more than a chapter at a time because I had to get up and move around, try to let out the rage and despair that she had to experience this, that she’s not alone, that 1 of 6 American women are victims of rape or attempted rape, that there are millions of people right now at this very moment grappling with the same reality, and that again and again and again our society says that if you are a white male your life and future opportunities and value as a human being are worth infinitely more than a woman’s. It is impossible for me to accurately describe the undercurrent of fury buzzing through my veins, but Chanel does an amazing job of capturing her emotions and walking us step-by-step through her experience. I could probably go on forever about this book and how much it made me feel and how important her message is, but instead I’ll just end my rant and say that this should be required reading. It’s a fierce criticism of our society and the systems and processes that are designed to protect us but often fail, yet it’s also a personal and eye-opening account of triumph and hope.

Looking forward to February, there are a few Russia-related books on my radar, a novel about immigration and motherhood, a book on feminism and equality, and possibly a classic adventure novel if I’m able to maintain my current momentum. Cheers to 2020, it’s been off to a great start!

 

Favorite Books in 2019 (so far!)

On By onehappybookwormIn Fiction, Lists, Memoirs, Miscellaneous, Nonfiction, Our Shared Shelf, TravelLeave a comment

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Somehow it’s autumn, and I don’t know where 2019 went. Or rather, I know where it went, I just don’t want to believe it’s almost over. This year has passed by in a montage of airplane windows, mountain views, sunset walks, 6am meetings, indulgent dinners, countless beers, and yes- a number of books enjoyed from my couch, a park bench, and hotel rooms all over the world. But now it’s fall- my favorite season full of all the best things in life: cozy sweaters, apple cider, pumpkin beer, ankle boots, colorful leaves, and red wine. Keeping in the spirit of all my favorite things, I’m sharing the top ten books that I’ve read so far in 2019 (and a few honorable mentions because I’m incapable of limiting myself).

  1. A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

This book was on my radar for a long time, and I finally read it in July. Months later, I still feel haunted by this novel. The story and characters have stayed with me, I can’t shake them from my head. Much of this book took place in the confines of one hotel in Moscow, but the themes and emotions it inspired go far beyond building walls and the pages that contained them.

  1. Silver Linings Playbook by Matthew Quick

On a rainy Friday night in March I treated myself to a Bradley Cooper movie marathon, and Silver Linings Playbook was part of the lineup. Watching the movie again reminded me of how much I enjoyed the book, and so I decided to reread it. It’s a beautiful story that explores relationships and mental illness; it’s equal parts endearing, heart-wrenching, and at times comical. Pat, the main character, is so engaging that you can’t help but root for him to succeed, even if you know what he’s doing is ill-fated. (And, of course, it doesn’t hurt to have a certain attractive, blue-eyed actor as the mental image of the main character.)

  1. Red Notice by Bill Browder

Another book that haunted me, but this one is a true story. It’s a combination of high-stakes business, international law, Russian politics, and ultimately the global fight for justice for a man wrongfully imprisoned and killed. The events in this memoir read like a James Bond novel, and it was sobering to remember that it was all real. This was also one of the first nonfiction books that I’ve read that has mainly taken place during my lifetime, and it was disturbing to picture where I was and what I was doing at the time of some of the more horrific events in the book.

  1. Beware of Pity by Stefan Zweig

This book started out slow for me, but once I was hooked I couldn’t put it down. After an embarrassing first encounter with a crippled girl, a young lieutenant takes pity on her and begins a friendship. She misinterprets his interest as romance, and he plays along to keep her happy and in good health. His actions are kindhearted in intent but cruel in practice, and they get worse as he finds himself more and more entangled with her family. This was a brilliant exploration of compassion and human nature set against the backdrop of pre-World War I Austria-Hungary.

  1. Butterfly by Yusra Mardini

This was a moving memoir, beautiful in its simple and direct style but heartbreaking in the events described. Yusra tells the story of her childhood in Syria, and her dreams of becoming an Olympic swimmer. As she enters her teens she describes the gradual yet devastating way that war took over her normal life, and how her family made the unimaginable decision to flee to Germany. Their journey was difficult, terrifying, exhausting, and very nearly fatal. As Yusra goes on to eventually compete in the 2016 Olympics on the refugee team, she reflects on what it means to be a refugee and have that word thrust upon you by a world that seems determined to use it against you.

  1. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Rereading To Kill a Mockingbird always feels a little bit like going home. I love Scout as a character, she reminds me a little of myself when I was younger. The story is so familiar to me yet it never seems to bore me. Scout’s innocent perspective of a very mature and traumatizing situation not only makes Tom Robinson’s trial more “palatable” to read but it brings out the true injustice and unfairness of the case.

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Blomkvist’s apartment overlooking Gamla Stan in Stockholm
  1. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

I’ve loved this book since I first read it in 2012, and this year I had the wonderful experience of rereading it while in Stockholm, staying in an Airbnb just a few streets away from Blomkvist’s address! Never having been to Stockholm before I didn’t realize how much of the city makes it into the books, but within a few hours of walking around Södermalm all I wanted to do was read this book and find the real-life locations mentioned throughout. Thanks to my local library and the Libby library app I was able to satisfy this craving and virtually borrow the book from nearly 5000 miles away- technology is great!

  1. In the Heart of the Sea by Nathaniel Philbrick

This is the better, real-life version of Moby Dick. It’s more exciting, less wordy, and based on the disaster of the whale ship Essex that inspired the novel. It’s an amazing tale of survival, and an interesting piece on early American history. I expected it to be dry and boring, but I was captivated. It had my book club talking for months!

  1. Educated by Tara Westover

This was an eye-opening memoir that made me feel truly grateful for my own family, upbringing, and opportunities for education. Growing up off the grid in rural Idaho, Tara Westover didn’t set foot in a classroom until she was seventeen. It was amazing to read of how she came to grips with her family and the unconventional way that she grew up while also accepting that she has every right to the education and accomplishments she has earned thus far in her life.

  1. Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer

This is unofficial required reading for anyone interested in mountaineering and travel. This is Krakauer’s account of the 1996 disaster on Mt. Everest that claimed eight lives, and until 2014 was the deadliest year on the mountain. I think it’s brilliant how he captured the essence and personalities of his fellow climbers while also showcasing the physical, mental, and emotional toll that summiting Everest entails. It was clear that he was still reeling from the disaster as he wrote the book, and I appreciated his honesty in admitting his mistakes and regrets.

Honorable mentions…

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim

This is Angie Kim’s debut novel, and I was very impressed with it. She really brought the characters to life and made them real people with believable thoughts and actions. I can’t say I’m happy with how the novel ended, but I loved the way the story was told.

Black Flags: The Rise of ISIS by Joby Warrick

This was another eye-opener for me. Despite all the CNN that my mom watched when I was a teen, I’m disappointed to admit that I didn’t know a lot of what was discussed in this book. Warrick researches the people and events that led to the founding of ISIS. He highlights decisions and mistakes that were made for the sake of politics- in both the US and Middle East. It’s sad to look at the state of things today and wonder if the situation could be any better if only a few different choices were made.

 

Alone Time by Stephanie Rosenbloom

On By onehappybookwormIn Memoirs, Nonfiction, Travel1 Comment

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It’s been a year and a half since my last post, and a lot has changed in that time.  2017 was a rough year for me, mentally and emotionally.  I was unhappy with many aspects of my life- work, relationships, myself; and these feelings spiraled out of control on a few occasions.  In the fall of last year I think I hit my breaking point, and I made a few decisions that have since changed everything.  While the end of last year was spent preparing for these changes, 2018 has been about making them happen.  This year, I quit my job, I traveled solo through Chile and Peru, I moved across the country, I started a new job where I’m mentally stimulated daily, I’ve made amazing new friends, I’ve immersed myself in new experiences.  It’s been an exhilarating journey, and I’m now in a place where I’m extremely happy and simply loving life.

I’ve been wanting to restart this blog for the past few months, but if felt insignificant amid all the other changes in my life.  Though I’ve been reading more books than ever before (I’ve finished 38 so far this year) it seemed silly for me to write a post about a new release, a bestseller, a book club choice.  I wanted my return to this blog to mean something more.  And then I read Alone Time by Stephanie Rosenbloom.

In the book, the author discusses the benefits and enjoyment that can be found in solitude- whether that time alone is spent traveling or in the place you call home.  Told over four seasons in four cities (spring in Paris, summer in Istanbul, fall in Florence, winter in New York) she talks about being present, enjoying the moment, dining alone, embracing curiosity, feeling safe, and much more.  Interspersed among her own thoughts and experiences are references to other sources- both artists who reveled in alone time and psychologists who studied the benefits of it.  I was captivated by this book; as someone who had spent over a month traveling solo and then exploring a new city, it resonated with me on a personal level.  I felt like this book was written just for me, it couldn’t have found me at a more appropriate time in my life.

When I added this book to my Goodreads account I noticed a few negative and mediocre reviews, and at first I was worried that it would be a disappointing read.  However, after finishing the book I feel like those readers maybe didn’t understand the point of the book prior to reading it.  Alone Time isn’t meant to be a travel guide or narrative memoir (as some of the comments alluded to).  It’s meant to focus on how enlightening spending time by yourself can be.  It’s about the little details you notice when your attention isn’t divided between your surroundings and a companion.  It’s about savoring moments that are uninterrupted by aimless conversation.  It’s about learning to be comfortable by yourself- something many adults admit they struggle with.  It’s about embracing mindfulness and being present wherever you are, and finding peace in disconnecting from your smart phone for even just a few minutes.  It’s about embracing curiosity and the spirit of exploration, whether you’re wandering the streets of a foreign city or rediscovering a place at home that you haven’t visited in a while.

I especially enjoyed the last section, when she talks about New York in the winter.  New York is the place she calls home, and she talks about how over the years she had lost a sense of wonder and excitement about the city.  However, as part of her journey in this book and as a follow-up to her solo ventures abroad she makes an effort to explore New York with fresh eyes.  She began what she called tourist Tuesdays: days in which she went out of her way to go somewhere she hasn’t been or explore an attraction on her own.  If something piqued her interest she explored it, she started walking rather than taking the subway, she went to museums by herself.  This section gave me a different mindset on city living, and as I’m adjusting to my new home I’m taking this to heart.

I’m going out of my way to explore neighborhoods I haven’t been to yet, I’m making a point to visit some of the museums and tourist attractions in the area, and I’m taking time to just sit at an outdoor table and savor a drink while enjoying my surroundings without checking my phone constantly.  It sounds simple, but already those are things that have slipped past me in the months since I moved.  Reading Alone Time was a reminder for me to enjoy these moments and to not lose my sense of curiosity, and I’m looking forward to fully appreciating every bit of solitude that comes my way.  This book couldn’t have come at a more perfect time in my life, and I’m using it as the starting point for my next chapter.

Wild by Nature by Sarah Marquis

On By onehappybookwormIn Memoirs, Nonfiction, TravelLeave a comment

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I remember reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed a few years ago, and how I felt so in awe of her experience on the Pacific Crest Trail as well as her personal transformation over the course of her journey. I was inspired on so many different levels, and I remember researching the Pacific Crest Trail and the Appalachian Trail at the time. I remember that I thought I wanted to attempt one of them, at least until I realized I was already working full-time at that point and probably wouldn’t be able to support myself for so long without income. I like to think that because I’m a hiker and avid about the outdoors my inspiration was on a deeper level than the women portrayed on the Gilmore Girls revival A Year in the Life, but who knows. I’ve accepted the fact now that I probably won’t be doing any thru-hikes in my lifetime, and I’m okay with that. But the feeling of awe never really went away, and since then I’ve been drawn to books and memoirs by and about other PCT hikers, and Appalachian Trail hikers too (see my On Trails post here). When I stumbled upon Wild by Nature in the bookstore this past December, though, I think I was in shock.

It was one thing to spend a few months or a summer hiking a trail in one’s native country. It is a completely other (and in my opinion more monumental) thing to spend three years walking through some of the world’s most desolate landscapes in a journey that encompasses two continents! Not to mention the dangers that inhabit each of the countries Sarah Marquis wandered through, and the fact that this was all a completely solo expedition! She takes her love of the outdoors, and Earth overall, to a level that I had never encountered before. I couldn’t wait to dive into this book.

I started reading Wild by Nature on a plane on my way to Texas for a work trip. I was traveling with a male coworker who is in his sixties, and he noticed the book and asked to look at it. I handed it over, and he looked at the cover and glanced through some of the photos before giving it back. “Wow,” was his only comment. If you knew this man personally, you would understand that this is actually one of the highest compliments he can possibly bestow on anyone.

Marquis’ journey is incredible. She faced so many hardships throughout the expedition, but despite everything she remained positive and happy and so grateful about the experience. She walked through sub-zero temperatures and scorching heat, she faced down thieves on horseback and drug dealers, she battled dengue fever and tropic ringworm and a severe tooth abscess, and yet she continued her trek with an amazingly positive attitude. The distance and length of the expedition is awe-inspiring enough without the rough spots; she crossed over 10,000 miles on foot over the course of three years!

While reading the book, I think I was most inspired by her positive attitude, and I can’t say that enough. Many of the sections ended with Marquis offering up a grateful “Thank you, thank you…”. It provided me with a much better perspective on things in my own life. If she was able to continue the expedition and stay positive after dealing with some of the obstacles she faced, then I think it’s time I adopt a similar attitude for situations (not as intense) in my personal life.

I think when I started this book I was expecting more of an adventure story. While it does chronicle Marquis’ solo trek through the wilderness (which is indeed adventurous), I think I was more drawn to the spiritual and philosophical aspects of her journey. Marquis stressed the importance of a simple life tied to nature, and I think this book was a gentle reminder that I need a little more balance in my own life. Things have been crazy lately; I feel like I’m constantly jumping from one thing to another and it’s definitely been taking a toll. At one point in the book, Marquis talked about how your body knows what it needs and gives you signs to signal those needs; all you have to do is listen. I can’t help but draw parallels to my own life right now. I’ve been running, and admittedly stressing, almost nonstop since the holiday season. I kept saying that I needed to start slowing down and taking care of myself, but for January and most of this month I continued to ignore my own advice. So what did my body do? It threw a sinus infection and tendonitis at me, quite literally forcing me to take it easy and rest. And as odd as this may sound given my current condition, I actually do feel better!

As I’m reflecting on it now, I’m grateful that I read this book. It wasn’t quite what I expected but it was what I needed at this point in my life. Sarah Marquis is without a doubt an amazing individual, and I am truly inspired by her story. I’m looking forward to following her story on any future expeditions she challenges herself to.

 

 

All the Single Ladies by Rebecca Traister

On By onehappybookwormIn NonfictionLeave a comment

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I must admit, I’m starting my 2017 reading list much better than 2016. I started this one on New Year’s Day and finished the other night. My reading challenge goal on my Goodreads Account last year was 50, and I only read 39 books. This year I adjusted to 45, and if I keep up this pace then hopefully I’ll meet my goal!

Anyway, I really enjoyed this book! Reading it put me in a very “Girl Power” kind of mood, and I felt so much more comfortable with myself being a twenty-six-year-old single woman. On a very basic level, one of the things that struck me about “All the Single Ladies” was that most (if not all) of the women interviewed are so successful, and they are all relatively young! I was so impressed with the accomplishments of these women, and just reading about them has given me motivation that I’ve been lacking recently. I’m not going to lie, since I started this book I’ve begun putting together a new five-year career plan, something which I’ve never bothered with before. I feel like I have always been a “go with the flow” kind of person, and since I’m reasonably smart and hard-working I’ve just always assumed that things would work out in good ways. But reading about the amazing women in this book who are starting companies and nonprofits, and they’re socially and politically active, it just really hit me: I could be doing so much more. Instead of just reading about amazing women I could actually be one myself.

“All the Single Ladies” also provided a view of women’s rights that I’ve never really considered before. It never occurred to me that by default, the system is pretty much designed to make it much harder for single women to live a happy, independent life (compared to married couples and men). And I’m a single lady myself! You would think that I would’ve thought about this, but I haven’t. And now that I am thinking about it, I’ve realized that I’ve had conversations with co-workers and colleagues circling these ideas, though framed in different contexts. One of the things I really appreciated was the appendix of this book, where Traister listed policies and attitudes that she believes must change as single women move forward in the world. It’s a good resource for talking points, as well as what to look out for in politics.

When it comes to feminism and what that means socially and politically, sometimes I feel like I’m just not as knowledgeable as I would like to be. Though I’ve always identified as a feminist, it wasn’t until I joined Our Shared Shelf (Emma Watson’s feminist book club on Goodreads) last year that I really started learning more about what that actually means for different people. Feminism is all about equal rights for men and women, and there are so many different perspectives you can examine. That book club has really opened up my eyes to women’s experiences that are vastly different from my own, and it’s been a great learning experience. This book, however, looks at it from the perspective of single women in the United States, who face their own set of troubles and limitations, which is something I relate to very much.

In its most general sense, “All the Single Ladies” is an investigation of the current trend of delaying (or opting out of completely) marriage. In this book, Traister has put together a comprehensive study of all aspects of single women: history, politics, relationships (both friendships and sexual), poverty, independence, city life, and more. Some of the chapters I felt really hit home, and I was able to identify with them very well. Other chapters, not so much, but I was still invested in the discussion.

In the introduction, Traister quotes Simone de Beauvoir’s observation about real life women: we “are married, or have been, or plan to be, or suffer from not being.” For most of history (and often still today) women are expected to marry and raise children, and if they don’t they are viewed as incomplete or damaged or selfish or any combination of these. This topic came up at work yesterday, and was directed at me. One of my (female) co-workers said that she was “looking out for a man for me.” Trying to speak lightly about it, I responded by saying that I wasn’t really looking anyway, and her answer was that that’s why she was doing it for me. And that conversation isn’t the only time my singlehood has been discussed at work; it happens on a fairly regular basis, which becomes very annoying and sometimes hurtful. But seriously, I’m happy that I’m not married or trying to get married anytime soon. I’ve come to the realization lately that I am generally more unhappy when I’m in a relationship, compared to when I’m not. And for the first time in my life, I’m really focusing on myself and what I want, and it’s freeing! I feel like I’ve been much more excited about things lately, and this book added to that feeling. It was probably one of the best ways to start off a new year, and I’m looking forward to seeing what I accomplish, as well as all the other single ladies across the country.

Love With a Chance of Drowning

On By onehappybookwormIn Memoirs, Nonfiction, TravelLeave a comment

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To be perfectly honest (and petty), I’m immensely jealous of Torre DeRoche after reading her memoir. Actually, if I’m going to be really honest I’ll say that I was immensely jealous about twenty pages in, and my envy only grew throughout the remainder of the book. I mean, she walks into a bar, approaches an attractive guy that just so happens to be a sexy Argentinean man, and not only does their drunken hook-up turn into a real, meaningful relationship but she ends up sailing halfway around the world with him! For me, personally, I would be completely and totally happy with about one of the above, let alone all of them! Torre DeRoche is one lucky woman, and I would do anything for her to show me her ways!

Okay, but all silliness and pettiness aside, I was very inspired by her story. And not just in the I-would-love-to-quit-my-job-and-travel-the-world way. Much of “Love With a Chance of Drowning” was about overcoming fears, or at the very least learning to live with them. And it was a very good examination of relationships, and how sometimes it’s not easy to reconcile the long term goals and dreams of two different people. Also, I think it was a good lesson on how to determine when you’re ready- for a move, for a job change, for whatever.

So in this book, Torre DeRoche tells the story of how she ended up sailing across the Pacific Ocean with her boyfriend, Ivan. Not only is this incredible by itself, but it’s made more incredible by the fact that Torre was very afraid of deep water. That’s right- a woman who was afraid of water spent two years sailing on the ocean! If that’s not the definition of overcoming fears, I don’t know what is. For Torre, the one thing holding her back was herself and her own trepidations. She talked a lot about how her experience was something she would tell her grandchildren about. Basically, she was presented with an opportunity of a lifetime, and she could either take advantage of it or turn it down because she was afraid. Obviously, she chose to embrace the adventure. But her fears didn’t end with her decision to go; her anxiety and stress were present throughout the book. Sailing across the Pacific Ocean sounds glamorous, but in reality it can be very dangerous. Over and over again Torre found ways to face down her fear and enjoy their adventure together, despite the risks. I think that was one of my favorite takeaways: you don’t have to be fearless to go on an adventure, you just have to be brave one day at a time.

Tied into Torre’s fears about the trip were her feelings for Ivan, her boyfriend. The relationship seemed to move at lightning speed: they met, then they were dating, within months they were living together, and almost within a year they were sailing the open seas together. I’ve had some experience being in a relationship that moves at hyper-speed, and in my case it didn’t work out. I had jumped in with both feet before I was ready to accept that his dreams were vastly different from mine. In my situation, he broke up with me because he was afraid that I wouldn’t be happy in the long run. It was brutal at the time, but looking back on the experience I think it was the right thing. I think I would have become miserable a few years in, and would have caused a lot more pain for everyone if it had continued. In a sense, Torre’s experience started out the same way. She committed to the trip knowing that Ivan had dreams of spending his life on the ocean. By comparison, she was a city girl with ties to civilization and people, and had plans to live out her life in Australia, her homeland. This dichotomy between the two of them was apparent throughout the book, and in some ways contributed to Torre’s stress and anxiety. It was proof that relationships aren’t easy, and that they often require sacrifice from both parties. This true story of a couple’s experience was evidence that love isn’t the fairytale that fiction pretends it is.

Aside from lessons on fear and relationships, I was most impressed with how and when Torre and Ivan knew it was time to let go and begin their journey. They had spent months living in the sailboat as it was docked in Los Angeles, and doing everything possible to prepare for their trip. For Torre, that meant learning how to sail as well as helping Ivan improve the boat so it was in its best condition. They received some frightening “advice” from some of the people they encountered. Sometimes they were told they would die at sea. Other times people said they were crazy and inexperienced, and it was too dangerous. But one woman told them that if they kept trying to prepare for the journey, then they would never leave. She said that it was impossible to ever be ready for such a trip, and it was just a matter of waking up and deciding to go. This stuck with me. It reminded me of a John Green quote from Paper Towns, which I’ll try to loosely quote here: “Leaving is the hardest thing to do, until you go. Then it’s the easiest damn thing in the world.” This quote, and Torre and Ivan’s experience, shows that we’re never really ready for what’s coming. There is no way to ever be completely prepared for what’s ahead. It’s just a matter of making a decision and sticking to it, and figuring it out along the way.

I wasn’t really expecting all of these important life lessons when I started reading this book. I was expecting it to be a light and comical read, without the philosophy lessons. However, I’m happy that these messages were there along with the humor. In a way, this was just what I needed to read at this point in my life, and I’m pleased that I had the notion to pick it up one day.

On Trails by Robert Moor

On By onehappybookwormIn Nonfiction1 Comment

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As a hiker, I was intrigued by the concept of On Trails. Written by Robert Moor, the book’s origins started out as musings during Moor’s thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail in 2009.  He began wondering where trails came from, why people follow them, and what makes people set off on their own.  On Trails is the result of his journey over the next seven years to attempt to find answers to these questions.

One of the things I enjoyed about this book is that it’s hard to categorize into one genre. It’s part autobiographical, covering not only his quest for answers but also pieces from his past.  But it also includes elements from science, history, and even philosophy, all interweaved with a tone and voice that felt poetic to me.  A lot of information was packed into 336 pages, yet I was captivated by it without feeling overwhelmed.

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Trail to Wolf Rocks, PA

I found myself reflecting on this book more than any other that I’ve read recently. It made me anxious to get into the woods and go hiking, to see trails with new and enlightened eyes.  My mind started churning on my way to work in the morning, wondering how the highway I drive every day became a major road and if maybe it had once started out as a deer path or Native American trail.  I especially focused on the philosophical parts of the book.  I’m at a point in my life where I’m questioning where I am and where I want the course of my life to go.  It was rewarding to read about those metaphorical paths in relation to the physical trails I encounter every day.

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Bridge in Bear Run Nature Reserve, PA

One of the interesting facts that stuck with me was the revelation that “on average people who are lost, without external navigational cues, will typically not travel farther than one hundred meters from their starting point, regardless of how long they walk.” I’ve had some experience being mildly lost, and in my case I feel this is true.  This past February, I took advantage of a sixty-degree day and went on a solo hike.  Somehow, near the end of the hike, I found myself off the trail with no map and a dead cell phone, and dusk fast approaching.  I was close enough to the road that I could hear cars passing so I knew which direction I needed to walk.  But I couldn’t find a clear path and my way was obstructed by a creek too wide to jump across.  Even though I was so close to the road I can’t deny the panic that was starting to build; it’s not a good thing for a young female to be alone in the woods on a winter night with no food or shelter.  Instead of following the creek to where I most likely would’ve met up with the trail at the point it crossed over the water, I kept retracing my steps backward and trying a new direction.  I was so sure that there was a sign I missed.  In the end, I found a private footbridge that went to somebody’s house, and I crossed through their backyard to the road with my hands in the air, paranoid that they would think I was trespassing or trying to rob them.  The lesson from that (now slightly comical) experience was to carry more emergency items in my daypack (and be more careful), but I couldn’t help but think of that day while I was reading On Trails.  With the exception of finding the private footbridge, I think I mostly stayed within one hundred meters, so I fell into the average.

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About 2 hours before I lost the trail in Laurel Hill State Park, PA.

Throughout the book, Moor provided a history of the land the United States emerged from. The way it’s presented here is unlike any class I’ve had in school; it focuses on the land and how it’s affected by the people that live here, and also on how the land changes the people.  Nature, and the land itself, was a way of life for the Native Americans that lived here for centuries.  Then as settlers from Europe arrived, the wilderness was viewed as something to be tamed and farmed.  During the industrial revolution, the farms turned into factories as natural resources were harvested to earn money.  And now, in the technological age, there is a rediscovered respect for nature.  As Moor put it, “With the advent of industrial technology we began to see wilderness less as a landscape devoid of agriculture and more as a landscape free from technology – and thus the wild went from being a wasteland to a refuge.”  That passage hits home for me; in times of stress or unhappiness I always seek the outdoors to find peace and contentment.  I know I’m not alone in this sentiment; there are countless articles and blogs that tell of the benefits for personal health and well-being that come from going outdoors and experiencing nature.

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Fall at Frick Park, PA.

I’ve been seeking refuge in the wild a lot lately, and not just because it’s autumn and a beautiful time to be outdoors. In many ways I feel like I’m in limbo, and being in the woods provides a sense of grounding for me.  I’m trying to find answers to some big questions I have for myself about where I want to go and what I want to do over the next few years.  My way forward is a bit hazy, and it’s hard to make out the details and see what’s ahead, but I trust myself enough to know that I’ll figure it out along the way.  In On Trails, Moor says, “In the end, we are all existential pathfinders: We select among the paths life affords, and then, when those paths no longer work for us, we edit them and innovate as necessary.  The tricky part is that while we are editing our trails, our trails are editing us.”  For me, this observation is a new way of looking at things, and it’s a satisfying conclusion to everything that On Trails offers.  It gives me a lot to think about the next time I find a trail and explore the wilderness.

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Nature at its best- Parker Ridge, Banff National Park, Canada.

 

 

Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl by Carrie Brownstein

On By onehappybookwormIn Memoirs, Nonfiction, Our Shared ShelfLeave a comment

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To be honest, I couldn’t really get into this book. Partly it was because of the subject material, but I think my biggest issue is that I’ve had so much other stuff going on, and my interest just wasn’t there.  As I mentioned in my previous post, my vacation is coming up.  In fact- I leave for New York this afternoon and we fly to London tomorrow!  So needless to say, I’ve been rushing around and doing some last-minute shopping and attempting to pack and prepare for everything.  The trip has been the main thing on my mind, but I’ve also been busy with the young professional networking group I’m a part of, and I’m also trying to line up everything at work while I’m gone.  There were so many points over the past two weeks where I wanted to just stop reading this book and devote my energy to something else, but I promised myself I would finish it before I left.  So I pushed through.

I had never heard of Carrie Brownstein or Sleater-Kinney before, so I really had no idea what I would be reading about when Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl was announced as the July/August book for Our Shared Shelf. Looking back at my progression through music, I think I was too young for the Riot grrrl movement and the whole indie-punk scene in general.  I was around seven years old when I got my first CD, which was the first Backstreet Boys album.  I spent the next few years in the mainstream pop music world, listening to not just Backstreet Boys but NSYNC, Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera too (such a diversity).  My older brother might have listened to some punk bands, but his music never made it outside his bedroom or headphones or anywhere that I would be exposed to it.  In my early teens I started gravitating toward more “emo” bands, and the trend stayed throughout high school.  New Found Glory, Dashboard Confessional, Bowling for Soup, and Fall Out Boy were some of my favorites (enough so that I still listen to them today when I’m feeling nostalgic).  College was mostly about Top 40 and whatever was playing at bars and parties, and then after graduation I discovered Spotify.  Nowadays, I would say 50% of my music library is made up of singer-songwriter acoustic type artists, then split evenly between classic rock, country, electronic pop, and Top 40.  So, reading about a feminist punk rock band from the nineties was unlike anything I was familiar with.

The beginning part of the book, when Carrie talks about her childhood, I could relate to. She talked about putting on plays and performances for her family, and I kept smiling because I used to do that too.  My best friend and I always had a performance ready for our parents after sleepovers.  I think our best one was about two girls who lived by the beach.  The worst was when we created a band called Blue Ice, and our opening song was “We’re Blue Ice, we’re so nice, we’re Blue Ice and we’re so nice.”  The most entertaining one was the video we created of my Beanie Babies competing in a game show, complete with me using different voices for each contestant (this video still exists somewhere).  But then she started to grow older and had to deal with serious issues.  Carrie’s mother began suffering from an eating disorder, and as a reader you could see how that affected her.  Her life took a darker turn, and it was more difficult for me to relate to.

As Carrie described how music began to become more and more important in her life, I began to lose interest. She referenced bands I had never heard of, and feelings I had never experienced.  When she wrote about seeing bands live and discovering new music at record stores, I began to wonder if it was an age thing.  Would I be able to relate more if I had to hunt for good music, if it wasn’t as simple as opening an app on my phone?  And as for Sleater-Kinney’s experience touring and recording, I just couldn’t garner any appeal for it.  Sleeping on borrowed and possibly dirty mattresses, practicing in confined places that smelt bad, struggling to get by; it all repulsed me.  Maybe I’m too mainstream or protected or snobby (I seriously hope not) but I just couldn’t connect with it.

Despite all that, there were two important aspects of Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl that I really enjoyed and appreciated. The first is Carrie’s complete openness about her struggles with depression and mental health.  It takes a certain kind of bravery to be that open and honest with the world, and I have so much respect for her.  I wish others (myself included) could be more open about our personal vulnerabilities.  In the world today, I think people are so exposed; there’s no break in attention.  It requires us to be “on” all the time, and it takes effort to maintain the image that’s out there, the image we want people to view us as.  So for someone to basically strip that image away and open up about such personal details, it’s amazing.

The second aspect that I appreciated were her thoughts on being a female musician, and why the word “female” shouldn’t really make a difference. A musician is a musician, regardless of gender, yet Carrie (and the other band members of Sleater-Kinney) faced countless questions about what it’s like to be a female musician, and they had to deal with so many gender stereotypes throughout the band’s career.  It’s frustrating.  As Carrie wrote in Chapter 15, “Anything that isn’t traditional for women apparently requires that we remind people what an anomaly it is, even when it becomes less and less of an anomaly.”  I mostly feel the same way about my job.  Being a woman in business is still something I have to explain; it’s like I have to constantly justify myself.  In reality, my job would be the same if I were a man, but it’s the perceptions and attitudes of others that make it different.

Despite my struggles connecting to Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl, I’m glad I read it. So far, the books discussed in Our Shared Shelf have pushed me and expanded my knowledge about a number of different subjects.  This is definitely a book that I would never have considered reading if it weren’t for this book club, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to get outside my comfort zone and try something new.  And I’m happy to have learned about Carrie Brownstein and Sleater-Kinney.  I’m definitely planning on checking out the band on Spotify, and I’ll probably try to catch a few episodes of Portlandia as well.

 

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

On By onehappybookwormIn Memoirs, NonfictionLeave a comment
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Reading outside by the river!

The Argonauts was the May book choice for Our Shared Shelf. I was very excited to read it because it was so different from my normal reading material. If I had to describe what kind of book The Argonauts is, I would say that it’s a memoir blended in with essays on love, gender studies, and family (among many other topics!). It’s Maggie Nelson’s very personal account of her relationship with her fluidly gendered partner, and the experience of going through a pregnancy.

I struggled a lot with reading this book. I think it was a combination of the format and some of the subject material. The book is not divided into chapters, or any sections really. To me it reads like a stream of consciousness, with Nelson’s thoughts and insights and memories blending with references to theorists and scholars. Because there was no break throughout the book, I found myself becoming completely absorbed in her writing because it was very intense and powerful. But after 10 pages or so I would have to stop because it was so much information to take in, and I just needed a break. Also, I had to look up many of the references that she made, which made it a little more difficult and ultimately slowed my process. Overall, I think the book is very intellectually written, and I’m just not as familiar with some of the topics and references, and needed to get myself up to speed.

I think the thing that completely amazed me was how frank and honest Nelson was about such personal details of her and her family’s life. She held nothing back in writing this, she was herself openly and completely, regardless of opinions that others might have. I thought it was a beautiful piece of writing in that regard. That level of honesty is so rare, I felt very connected to what she was saying, and the experience kind of blew me away.

The Argonauts also expanded my awareness and understanding of gender fluidity. I haven’t had any experience with gender fluidity in my life, meaning that I don’t personally know anyone that would identify in that way. To be completely honest, I found it incredibly difficult to wrap my head around. I think the concept of “male” and “female” is so ingrained in my mind that I felt like I had to unlearn something, though I’m not exactly sure what it is that I unlearned. I just found myself questioning things a lot. For example, I was confused on what pronoun to use to describe Harry (Nelson’s partner), and eventually I reached a point where I was asking myself why I had to choose, and why couldn’t I just accept Harry as Harry and leave it be? This probably isn’t a good analogy because it’s so basic, but I remember telling people in high school that “I don’t believe in labels.” At the time I was referring to the loose classifications of preps, jocks, geeks, etc. I would tell people that I didn’t believe in labels because I felt like I belonged to more than one group. Is it such a stretch to apply the same logic to gender, even though the logic is so incredibly basic? I don’t know the answers to these questions, or even if there are answers. I’m just enjoying being challenged by the reading material. This is the first book in Our Shared Shelf that I felt motivated to participate in a discussion board, so it’s clear that the book is making me think. And however confusing or challenging that is, I like it.

Maggie Nelson also spent a significant portion of the book discussing motherhood, and how being a mother relates to and impacts being a woman. I thought these parts of the book were very interesting and eye-opening because it made me think about motherhood in a new light. I’m not a mom, and I have no plans to become one anytime soon, so a lot of the theories that Nelson discussed were basically unknown to me because motherhood just isn’t on my radar right now. It made me think a lot about my own mom, and some of my friends that have recently had children, and I wonder what they would think if they read this book. In that regard, I think they would have gotten more out of the reading experience than I did. I already want to re-read The Argonauts at some point, just because it is so much to digest, but I want to make a mental note to myself to pull this out if and when I ever have children. I wonder what I would think about it then.

Reading The Argonauts was definitely an experience. It was a struggle- both in the structure of the book and the subject material. Even though it’s only about 140 pages long, I was challenged enough that it took me over a week to read. But I’m not complaining about it. It was such an eye-opening book; it was just a really good learning experience. In a weird way, I’m kind of proud of myself for completing it. If it weren’t for Our Shared Shelf, I would’ve never felt compelled to read The Argonauts. It’s something I would’ve passed over in a bookstore without a second glance. So the fact that I went outside my reading “comfort zone” and that I finished it despite the struggle… it’s just a good feeling. It serves as a reminder to me that you can always learn by reading.