Why I love ALL my books

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People always comment on the many books I have collected in this tiny house. They inevitably ask, “have you read all these books?” And my response is “no, not yet…but I will”. A younger visitor once said, “all these books around, that would just make my head hurt”! I often get comments on the space-saving-benefit of digital books. I just give these poor souls my tolerant Book Barmy smile, and we carry on with other, less troubling, topics.

Now I’ll tell you a short tale of how I just recently experienced a re-appreciation of having all my books here and physically available to me night or day.

I subscribe to the NY Times Book Review — just the book review section, not the entire paper. It’s fairly cheap and I’ve been subscribing for years. But they do tend to pile up. So the other evening, with a big cup of tea, I went through the stack. I like to read them in chronological order so that the letters to the editor relate back to the previous book review section (yes, I am actually that geeky).

There was a wonderful essay by Min Jin Lee, called Shelf Lives, in which she wrote about her experiences as a young reader who read voraciously. She recalled getting her first library card and which books she selected when she could read from the adult section.

The following week’s section had several letters reacting to this essay. One letter writer recalled picking up W. Somerset Maugham’s short story collection at the age of 12, and reading the first story entitled Rain. When finished, he’d experienced reading not only a very adult story, but also a first exposure to the art of ellipsis. Here’s what he wrote:

Great storytellers make readers co-authors, letting them complete with their imagination what has been left unsaid on the printed page. For the first time in my young life, I felt like an adult.

Hmm I thought, I’ve got to read this. I wandered over to my grandfather’s book collection of classics, and there it was — The Complete Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham

I sat right down, opened up the first volume and read Rain right then and there. I had to see what this letter writer was talking about. The letter writer was right — here was a short tale of the tropics, torrential rain, and a critique of missionaries, not to mention religion. And, yes the ending lets the reader fill in the plot. I’m now slowly working my way through this two volume set – one story at a time. I’ve never read Maugham before and discovered a wonderful writer – all due to a letter to the editor of the NY Times Book Review.

So that, dear readers is why I cherish having (and hereby justifying) all my books – especially those I’ve never read.

What’s on your shelves just waiting to be discovered?

What I Did During the Pandemic

In mid-June, the Bay Area came off our COVID restrictions. We were the first to have lock down orders, so it’s been a long duration of pandemic gloom and doom. I’m not complaining, Husband and I were very fortunate and got off easy compared to the millions (and millions) who contracted the virus — including some family and friends.

But there it was, almost a year and half to read, write in this blog, go for long walks, tackle those house chores, and did I say read? A year and half to be productive, to be creative. You may have already figured this out by the lack of Book Barmy activity — but I have to fess up – I was neither productive or creative.

What did I do during the Pandemic ? Practically nothing.

At first, we nervously stayed tuned to CNN. Then we started distracting ourselves with Netflix and Amazon channels and binge watching some great shows (Shitt’s Creek – Line of Duty – Bosch just to name a few).

We limited our binge watching to evenings. We did shake it off with some walks and planting several successive vegetable gardens…but even so, we both took laziness to whole new level.

I avoided total boredom with my involvement with two (count ’em two) city government hearings, which turned out to be a great distraction but also caused much stress. You see, I had to read each and every government or legal document three times. First, to figure out what I didn’t understand (which was always alot). Then research what I didn’t understand. Read the document again to see if it was any clearer, and then a analysis to figure out arguments.

So at the end of those days, I didn’t want to think at all. When it came to a contest between my bookshelves and television — I’m ashamed to say, the television won out.

I did do some erratic, inconsistent reading, picking up and putting down books — my stack of partially read books mocks me as evidence

However, last week I woke up feeling like a cloud had been lifted and it hit me (OK I’m a bit slow) that we were leaving our days of pandemic gloom and boredom behind us.

Husband and I have been going for long walks, exploring different neighborhoods. We’ve planned some local trips. We cleaned out the freezer and somewhat organized our garden/work room. We had friends over for an impromptu dinner and went to have drinks with others in their garden. We have other social events coming up, but we’re going slowly – small steps on the social front.

But most relevant for Book Barmy readers, on one of my walks, I randomly picked a book from a little free library and read it in two sittings. Also, I made great strides on a publisher’s proof on my Kindle, and have finally worked my way through my backlog of NY Time’s Book Reviews. The stack of books above is still mocking me, but again small steps.

It’s a cliche, but I feel it’s a new day and I will tentatively state that I’m back (not back to normal, but close) and in the upcoming weeks, there will be much for you to enjoy here at Book Barmy. So please don’t leave – stay tuned.

p.s. sorry for all the GIF’s – I went a bit crazy.

Look for Masterpiece Theater Sunday Night

Us by David Nicholls was a surprise favorite read a few years ago. You can read my full review HERE.

Douglas and Connie, a British couple have planned a vacation through Europe, but it’s nearly called off when Connie wakes up and says “I think I want to leave you.” 

Douglas forges ahead and cajoles his wife to enjoy one last hurrah with their teenage son, who is soon off to college.   And thus begins a bittersweet and awkward journey through Europe. 

These are real and familiar characters; especially the befuddled Douglas, certain he can fix something unfixable if only he applied enough logic, pragmatism, and unfailing optimism. Everything that can go wrong on a trip – does. I found Us, the novel, both funny and touching.

This Sunday, PBS Masterpiece is starting a series based on the novel and the preview looks promising. I have it marked to watch. The scenery alone will be worth it for me, as I’m starved for Europe. Maybe you’ll want to watch as well. Masterpiece Theater, Sunday night 9PM (USA).

Kelly Corrigan

I’ve not yet told you about one of my favorite authors — Kelly Corrigan.  

The Huffington Post said it best  ~~ “Kelly Corrigan is the Poet Laureate of the Ordinary.”

I’ve read (nay, fallen in love with) her essays and memoirs.  Her writing is brilliantly insightful about parenting, human nature, and the importance of human connection.  Ms. Corrigan can find the good and the funny in almost everything – including her own bout with cancer.  She writes about love in all its forms, the messy-ness of life, tragedy of loss, her failed self-improvement plans, and reflects often on the power of the words you speak — the idea that the things we say matter, and that our words have both the power to crush a soul but also can comfort, empower and inspire.

Here’s one of my favorite Corrigan quotes:

That’s how it works: someone important believes in us, loudly and with conviction and against all substantiation, and over time, we begin to believe, too—not in our shot at perfection, mind you, but in the good enough version of us that they have reflected.

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You may have heard of Ms. Corrigan from her relatively new PBS show “Tell me More”.

There are new episodes of Tell me More coming in October but until then you can watch the older ones HERE. She’s a relatable, natural interviewer and you can feel her subjects relaxing into a nice long safe chat with her.

However, the reason for this post, other than to encourage you to find her books, is to recommend watching her recent commencement speech which a good friend shared with me. If, after watching this, you’re not choked up, you’re made of tougher stuff than I.

HERE is the commencement speech.

And because I’m sure you’ll need more of her HERE is a compilation of her speaking events.

So, if you’re like me, there are times you just need someone normal, natural, real and very, very funny – please turn to Ms. Corrigan.

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

I was delighted by A Man Called Ove, both the book and the film. Since then, I’ve tried some of Mr. Backman’s other books but none were nearly as good. So I opened Anxious People with a bit of dread — please be good, please be good I muttered to myself. (Don’t you talk to your books? I do, as few else listen.)

Now, you should know it has taken me forever to write up my thoughts of this widely popular and best-selling novel.

You see, I had trouble with Anxious People, yet enjoyed much of it. The plot is crazy, but the characters are wonderfully flawed and complex. It leaps all over the place in time, and yet comes together in the end — so I have no clear opinion on this book. I’ll do my best to give you an overview and let you decide whether to try this wacky tale.

From the book’s publicity:

Looking at real estate isn’t usually a life-or-death situation, but an apartment open house becomes just that when a failed bank robber bursts in and takes a group of strangers hostage. The captives include a recently retired couple who relentlessly hunt down fixer-uppers to avoid the painful truth that they can’t fix their own marriage. There’s a wealthy bank director who has been too busy to care about anyone else and a young couple who are about to have their first child but can’t seem to agree on anything, from where they want to live to how they met in the first place. Add to the mix an eighty-seven-year-old woman who has lived long enough not to be afraid of someone waving a gun in her face, a flustered but still-ready-to-make-a-deal real estate agent, and a mystery man who has locked himself in the apartment’s only bathroom, and you’ve got the worst group of hostages in the world.

The police aren’t having a good day either. Father and son officers, Jim the old hand and Jack preferring modern methods, make up most of the small police force in their small town. They’re not used to bank robbers or handling hostage situations.

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Anxious People immediately plunges the reader into this preposterous event told from multiple points of view. This makes for a complex start, and at first, everyone and everything was disjointed. There are many characters — each with their own stories.

During the first 100 pages, I wondered where this story was going — and if I would continue reading — but soon it started to come together. The somewhat stereotypical characters soon emerge as much more. These characters, although wonderfully developed, are for the most part idiots — but amusing idiots.

And here’s what Mr. Backman says about idiots — this definition applies to pretty much all of us —

“This story is about a lot of things, but mostly about idiots. So it needs saying from the outset that it’s always very easy to declare that other people are idiots, but only if you forget how idiotically difficult being human is.”

Anxious People jumps around in the timeline and swerves off on a lot of tangents, but it all makes sense in the end and all those little tangents soon become important. It was at times funny, at times sad, but for me, the best part was how it handled difficult topics in a way that was deservedly serious and yet lighthearted.

I found it was worth working through some of the convolution just for the some of the wisdom alone. I’ll give you a few samples of Mr. Backman’s insights:

“Because the terrible thing about becoming an adult is being forced to realize that absolutely nobody cares about us, we have to deal with everything ourselves now, find out how the whole world works. Work and pay bills, use dental floss and get to meetings on time, stand in line and fill out forms, come to grips with cables and put furniture together, change tires on the car and charge the phone and switch the coffee machine off and not forget to sign the kids up for swimming lessons. We open our eyes in the morning and life is just waiting to tip a fresh avalanche of “Don’t Forget!”s and “Remember!”s over us. We don’t have time to think or breathe, we just wake up and start digging through the heap, because there will be another one dumped on us tomorrow. We look around occasionally, at our place of work or at parents’ meetings or out in the street, and realize with horror that everyone else seems to know exactly what they’re doing. We’re the only ones who have to pretend. Everyone else can afford stuff and has a handle on other stuff and enough energy to deal with even more stuff. And everyone else’s children can swim.”

And then there is this one which spoke to me:

“The truth, of course, is that if people really were as happy as they look on the Internet, they wouldn’t spend so much damn time on the Internet, because no one who’s having a really good day spends half of it taking pictures of themselves. Anyone can nurture a myth about their life if they have enough manure, so if the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, that’s probably because it’s full of shit. Not that that really makes much difference, because now we’ve learned that every day needs to be special. Every day.”

And here the author speaks to anxiety – this quote deserves reading more than once.

“One of the most human things about anxiety is that we try to cure chaos with chaos. Someone who has got themselves into a catastrophic situation rarely retreats from it, we’re far more inclined to carry on even faster. We’ve created lives where we can watch other people crash into the wall but still hope that somehow we’re going to pass straight through it. The closer we get, the more confidently we believe that some unlikely solution is miraculously going to save us, while everyone watching us is just waiting for the crash.”

So perhaps this is a story about a hostage situation, filled with anxious people. Or perhaps this is a tale of idiots stuck in an apartment. Or maybe it’s about a bungled police investigation. And then there’s the bridge…

But I have come to the long awaited conclusion that Anxious People is all about human relationships, of which Mr. Backman is a master. I laughed, I sighed, and I often savored the writing – re-reading many passages. There is wisdom sprinkled throughout the narrative.

Anxious People is not an easy read – it takes some letting yourself just “go with the flow” of this screwball novel and its anxious, idiotic — yet fascinating characters.

I’ll leave you with one last conversation:

So Zara asked, without any sarcasm, “Have you learned any theories about why people behave like that, then?”

“Hundreds,” The psychologist smiled.

“Which one do you believe?”

“I believe the one that says that if you do it for long enough, it can become impossible to tell the difference between flying and falling.”

Trigger warning: This novel deals with suicide and attempted suicide.

 

A digital review copy was kindly provided by Atria Books via NetGalley

 

Vaccination Vacation #2

Hi folks, we got away again. Back to one of our favorite spots up the coast ~~ right by a lighthouse.

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Yes, it’s the same little cabins we went to a couple of years ago. We love it up there. It’s only a 1/2 day drive and we needed another ‘get away’.

Like last time we did some wonderful walks/hikes…both along the cliffs

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And through some open areas and cow fields.

We wandered around a working dock area – giggled at the Covid humor and Husband examined some crab traps.

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Also visited a wildlife preserve up in the hills where they are actively raising and breeding endangered African animal species. A small venture run with lots of love and care.

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The giraffe ate lettuce from our hands, and the young zebra was fascinated by us being fascinated in her.

Then we took a rail bike ride into the redwoods…

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They ride on the rail tracks of the tourist train that only runs a few days a week. Bikes use the tracks on the off days. Husband had the brake and we both had the pedal power. Great fun, especially with the power assist that you can kick in when going up hills.

Afterwards, Husband had to try some Fort Brag brews and I discovered a new non-alcoholic treat — Rose Lemonade. Which was just lovely.

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It was a great trip, we got lots of fresh air and exercise. Finished our last night at a social distanced restaurant overlooking Noyo Harbor in Fort Bragg — which is where they filmed Overboard with Goldie Hawn.

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We did enjoy some lazy time and I read books which I’ll share in a few days.

Until then, I hope you can enjoy your own vaccination vacation soon.

Don’t forget to bring a book.

As Always, Jack by Emma Sweeney

Whenever we travel to a different location, I like to visit a bookstore and search for local authors or books set in the area.

When we were in Coronado, California – (yikes, over two years ago now) – I bought this little book written by a woman raised on the island. I only just read As Always, Jack, having re-discovered it when shopping my home shelves during Covid.

Ms. Sweeney never knew her father, Jack, who shared a whirlwind romance with her mother via letters while stationed in the Pacific just after WWII. This slim volume, contains the actual collection of letters from her navy pilot father to her mother during the last months of WWII.

They met in Coronado and knew each other a mere two weeks before he got shipped off. Through their letters they got to know each other, and fell in love. A ten year marriage and five children were the result. To avoid any confusion, I’ll tell you that the author’s mother was pregnant with her when her father’s plane went down during a routine Navy flight.

By the time the Ms. Sweeney was old enough to start wondering about the father she’d never known, her mother had remarried. And with a reluctance to revisit the past, details about her father and their romance were scarce. Following her mother’s passing, Emma discovered a ribbon-tied packet of fragile letters and a photo — through which she finally met her father.

These letters depict far more than the typical navy pilot meets and falls in love with a beautiful California girl. Jack’s sense of humor and wit shines through. His personality is bold and cocky – as he woos, cajoles, and romances this beautiful girl from Coronado. Yet as the same time, he shows his insecurity that she doesn’t love him as much, and grows despondent when her letters don’t arrive.

Well, HALLELUJAH! FOUR letters – ranging from April 28th to May 27th – came home today and the world looks much different. One was sealed with a kiss, one was sealed with a Big kiss, one was sealed with a peck (?), and one was just sealed, which means I got spit on.

Jack tells of the foreign culture (Shanghai, Japan) boredom, lousy food, routine and when he writes about his actual flights, — he glosses over the obvious danger.

I feel pretty good, even though the immediate future isn’t so bright. Not enough of you in it.

Throughout the letters are Jack’s comical illustrations, 1940’s slang and references – from the films he sees on base to the virtues of the Fibber MacGee and Molly radio program – over which they disagree. Jack teases his girlfriend by mixing up her name, adding ten years to her age, and speculating on the number of children they will someday have.

After his release orders come through, and Jack is waiting for transport back to the States, his letters become a bit more subdued as he worries that after five months apart, that she won’t feel the same about him. But he tries to hide his jitters behind his ever resilient humor.

The only disappointment for this reader was that, through no fault of the author, As Always, Jack is one sided – only his letters survived. How wonderful it would have been to have the full correspondence. I’m sure Ms. Sweeney feels the same way.

As Always, Jack is an intensely personal gift from the author — not only by the sharing of her father’s letters, but also with the introduction and afterword she wrote to give a fuller picture of her parents endearing romance.