What I’ve Read: Far From the Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity by Andrew Solomon

This is a substantial book in every possible way. The total number of pages are 962, but some of that includes the bibliography and index. The actual book portion clocks in at a dense 702 pages. The subject matter is impeccably researched (Solomon spent years interviewing hundreds of subjects). The chapters are labeled by spartan titles: Deaf, Dwarves, Autism. Solomon can write provocatively—the book is certainly not fully objective—but his tone is so measured and his points so succinct that I feel it would have been a lesser book without those observations.

It’s not an easy book to read and, frankly, it shouldn’t be. Discussing children and parenting is a minefield on the most innocuous of topics (breastfeeding, anyone?), but when you step into the world of autism or Down Syndrome or children born of a rape, there are layers of complexities and internal politics that most of us cannot begin to comprehend. Save for this book, of course.

This book challenged everything I felt I knew about parenting. My struggles seem trivial, stupid and privileged when compared to some of the heartwrenching and selfless chronicles of parents within the book. Keep in mind, though, that Solomon developed close enough relationships with his interview subjects that they spoke very candidly to him. Their accounts are not always heart-breaking because they are groomed for an Oprah-type, hope-filled interview. They are heart-breaking because they are honest. They are always tired, often bewildered and, in most cases, caught between a place of hopelessness and a place filled with unconditional love. As I read, I often caught myself thinking, “I don’t think I could do that.” How many of the interviewees in this book would have thought the same once upon a time? For the many parents interviewed in the book who have sacrificed everything for their children: their honesty and their determination is admirable beyond comparison.

On the other hand, there are some accounts of absolutely despicable abuse. It’s a theme that runs through nearly every chapter of the book: abuse, abuse, abuse. Abuse of the parent. Abuse of the child. Abuse of the wife or girlfriend or stranger. The chapter on rape was extraordinarily hard to read.

Blogging or reading other blogs or seeing bloggers on Instagram feeds a particularly unique and privileged view of a modern family lifestyle. It’s an insulated bubble of perfection—scarcely marred by divorce, let alone the topics covered within this book. I’ve read blog posts defending accusations of “perfection” by arguing that they want to only show what is positive and what is beautiful because that is uplifting. That’s fine. That is your prerogative. But do not forget that it is also a privilege. As I read over and over again in this book, there is the possibility of a fault line that could change everything in each of our lives.

So, please read this book. It may challenge or affirm everything you know about parenting. It will teach you something. Every page was an eye-opening, thought-provoking one for me. The words “identity” and “acceptance” and “love” took on new meaning. It should be required reading for anyone contemplating children or already expecting one. It’s a remarkable, substantial book. You won’t regret reading it.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

What I’ve Read:

I am so far behind with these. I hate combining multiple book reviews into one post, but if I don’t, I’ll never catch up. Here we go.

Lay the Favorite by Beth Raymer - I know next to nothing about gambling and especially little about sports gambling. Luckily, despite this book being all about gambling, my lack of knowledge didn’t matter much. After moving to Vegas and waiting tables, Raymer gets a job assisting a professional sports gambler and gets increasingly drawn into a shady, crazy, money-filled world that she pretends she’s still outside of. The best part of this book is not Raymer, though she’s the one telling it and most everything is happening to her. The supporting characters (especially Dinky, the first pro gambler she works for) are the reason I kept reading. I guess it’s recently been made into a pretty crappy movie (which I haven’t seen, obviously), but I can see why someone would have thought “movie!” upon reading this. It’s insane. I finished it and felt like I’d been on an all-night bender. In a good way. Great vacation book or beach read. 

One Nation Under Stress: The Trouble with Stress as an Idea by Dana Becker - This book is utterly fascinating, but a warning: it’s dense. It can be witty and Becker clearly has opinions, but they can get lost in the muck of myriad studies and works cited. This hasn’t been turned into “nonfiction lite” for a casual reading audience. That’s not to say it’s not a valuable book to read. It is. Fact-driven and beyond thorough, it really challenged the way I think about “stress” and my use of the phrase, “I’m stressed.” It’s also made me take a closer look at what I consider “stress relief.” Becker challenges a lot of conventional thinking and years of commercialization of what’s basically an idea. The sections about how stress is viewed differently depending on someone’s economic or social conditions are particularly good. 

The Scientists by Marco Roth - Marco Roth, co-founder and editor of n+1 magazine, begins this memoir discussing his father’s slow decline from AIDS. It’s not a long book, but it is sharp and poignant. There is something really irresistible to me about memoirs that discuss how relationships and feelings toward parents change and grow. Describing the moments when a child realizes that parents are not impermeable, perfect beings can make for a really wonderful book—if done properly. This is a good one. 

Have you read any of these books? Any recommendations for me?

What I’ve Read: Vow: A Memoir of Marriage (and Other Affairs) by Wendy Plump

Personal memoirs are at their best when they are unflinchingly honest. Plump’s decision to write openly about her ex’s affair—the one that ended their marriage—and their respective numerous affairs that came before makes for an uncomfortable, revealing look at the slow unraveling of a relationship.

Are we meant to be monogamous? Plump asks this question over and over. Throughout the several affairs she had before she discovered that her husband had been seeing the same woman for years and had a 9-month-old child with her, Plump makes clear the blunt facts about how and why she did it. What she questions later in the book is why some people don’t. Her conclusion? “I think you either cheat or you don’t. It’s either hardwired in you or it isn’t. Infidelity may rest latent in you, but if you have that inclination, it will be difficult to resist. Or there will always be the question of it hanging, exhaustingly, in front of you.”

Plump’s unusual situation—having been both the cheater and the one cheated on—makes her uniquely qualified to discuss the consequences of infidelity from all sides. To speak to the honest tone she’s taken throughout the book, she doesn’t leave out the parts she enjoyed either. “The arms that wrapped around me at night or the face that hovered above me during sex or the man who waited in my driveway for a homecoming after South Carolina…”

I’ve no doubt that a person could read this book and dismiss it as an exotic tale—something so far outside the realm of their own life that they could never imagine themselves in Plump’s shoes, as either the one cheating or the one cheated upon. This book is not a warning shot across the bow so much as it is a reminder. A reminder to anyone in a long-term relationship or a marriage that betrayal does not always happen to someone else. It may not strike your relationship personally, but at some point in your life, you will feel the shockwaves. You’ll feel them as you comfort a friend or listen to a teary confession from a family member or learn a dark secret about a parent that you never expected to hear. We’re human, after all. We’re inclined to want more. “The grass is always greener” is maybe the truest description of human nature. So, do you cheat? Or don’t you?

Plump references often her boredom with the safety of her marriage as a reason for her infidelity. Later, after her husband has moved out, she contemplates safety in a new way.

“At those times [in the middle of the night] safe didn’t feel boring. Safe felt like a rescue. Safe felt like the most romantic, knight-on-a-horse, warrior-brandishing-a-sword existence possible. Not because I was insulated from trouble when in a couple, but because I was facing it with someone. […] This is not hindsight. It’s serious, keening, howl-at-the-moon regret over not recognizing the luck that surrounded both Bill and me. The sound of my husband sleeping. The cut and cottony smell of his T-shirts in the laundry. […] These are the details of married life. You could slay a dragon with them. What a pity that we missed the most salient point of union, that we fell prey to the most obvious stupidity—not knowing how good it all was.”

Plump’s affairs, which took place before her husband moved out, were complicated for her: fun, exciting, dangerous, scary, sad. But, she never felt the pull to, as she put it, “make the journey from Other Woman to Woman.” Why? “In my view, crushing, worrisome regret lies in wait for the single woman or the single man who has an affair with a married spouse, pulls the spouse away, and then marries him or her. As the new spouse, you would have to help justify the sacrifice of the first marriage on a too-often basis. If you or he or both don’t cheat again, you will end your days worrying that it’s about to happen. When you are betraying a spouse, one of the things you demonstrate most emphatically is how untrustworthy you are. Not much of a basis on which to hang a new marriage.”

I can’t say this book was an enjoyable read per se. It felt personal, gouging. It is emotionally raw and intensely well-written. It’s a book I won’t soon forget.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

I just started reading the most remarkable book last night (Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh). I knew within the first few pages that it will always be a favorite. It was originally published in 1955, but Lindbergh’s reflections on motherhood, friendships, marriage and life in general still feel modern and thought-provoking.

Here is a portion taken from the forward:

“Many women are content with their lives as they are. They manage amazingly well, far better than I, it seemed to me, looking at their lives from the outside. With envy and admiration, I observed the porcelain perfection of their smoothly ticking days. Perhaps they had no problems, or had found the answers long ago. […] But as I went on writing and simultaneously talking with other women, young and old, with different lives and experiences—those who supported themselves, those who wished careers, those who were hard-working housewives and mothers, and those with more ease—I found that my point of view was not unique. In varying settings and under different forms, I discovered that many women, and men, too, were grappling with essentially the same questions as I, and were hungry to discuss and argue and hammer out possible answers. Even those whose lives had appeared to be ticking imperturbably under their smiling clock-faces were often trying, like me, to evolve another rhythm with more creative pauses in it, more adjustment to their individual needs, and new and more alive relationships to themselves as well as others.”

I was reading Before I Forget in The Atlantic yesterday and then read the above passage last night and I think there are so many important parallels. The Internet has provided so many wonderful things to me as a new parent. It has given me invaluable advice, amazing friends and a supportive community of people in circumstances similar to my own that I can turn to when I don’t know who else to ask or vent to. On the other hand, the Internet can be pernicious, guilt-inducing labyrinth for a parent and especially for a new mother. The mommy wars wage on in blogs, in comments on news articles, on Facebook and in more subtle ways too. I see various bloggers who appear to be paragons of motherhood and then everything they do or don’t do or seem to do more deftly feels magnified just as strongly as if someone pointed out the chasm between us directly to my face.

There is great dignity in rising to meet the new responsibility and challenge of parenting but the parenting itself is not always dignified and I’ve noticed that the moments where I feel successful rarely arrive from any intention on my part. It’s not always beautiful or easy and it’s hardly ever both at the same time. A filter on a photo cannot gloss over the image of sitting in the corner of the room crying because you can’t understand why someone else won’t stop.

Even my own words might make it seem that I have forgotten the difficulties of those early days. That I have somehow reached a place where I know and well, that’s not true. I know nothing and have forgotten nothing. Although I look back at Isobel as a baby with bittersweet, nostalgic feelings, I would not rewind the clock if given the chance. To be frank, I’m not sure I have the strength to do it again. I can still feel the fog of my past depression episodes lingering just beyond the patch of sunlight that follows me of late, but would it remain there if I went back? Could I push through again? As for now, I know one day in and one day out and that’s still as far as my mind can extend, whether applied to parenting, my job, my home, my partner, my schedule. Anything beyond 24 hours from this moment does not exist. Parenting is about being present, yes, and I’ve read so many things that instruct parents to be intentionally present, but the truth is that there is no other option. I am present because each moment could be a new challenge and each decision could have longer lasting consequences than I anticipate. I can live with the mistakes born from intentional decisions. But that’s why I have to be present—because I am so afraid that if I’m not, I’ll make an unintentional mistake.

Every parent makes mistakes and every parent fears something. There is someone out there feeling the same thing you are, right now. They probably won’t say it. There is far too much punishment for speaking the truth about parenting truths so we—I—stay quiet most of the time. But it helps to know that you aren’t alone.

What I’ve Read: Jujitsu Rabbi and the Godless Blonde by Rebecca Dana

This memoir of an occasionally hard-partying, fashion-obsessed Manhattan woman who relocates to the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn after a break-up to become the platonic roommate of a jujtisu-studying Hasidic Russian rabbi named Cosmo seems like a good premise, right? What’s not to like?

For some reason, I had the hardest time getting through this book. I have a new policy about putting books aside if I’m not feeling them—something I didn’t do for a very, very long time. Despite that policy, I stuck this one out. I kept telling myself that I must be missing something. It was named an Amazon best book of the month in January, it’s been reviewed by several dozen major publications, I’ve seen it on several “must read” lists and yet…I really didn’t care for it.

As a story of self-discovery and a narrative about the intersection of the secular and the very religious in modern society, it is mildly successful. All the parts that make for a good book are there. Dana is a seasoned writer. She was living an interesting life. Where did this book go wrong? Why did every page feel interminable and why did I wake up each morning with no recollection of anything I read the night before? It’s an utterly forgettable book.

It’s clear that Dana was constructing a hybrid of many recently popular types of books. There is an Eat, Pray, Love-ish sense of narcissism, a Wild bit of introspection, and of course, a healthy dose of Sex and the City stereotypes just to round everything out. It’s ironic that without Cosmo’s presence she’d have little to no material at all (let alone a catchy title), but he doesn’t appear often in the book. When he does, he feels one-dimensional. His jujitsu-studying is mentioned off-hand. He’s as flat as a pancake, but then again, so is Dana. I didn’t care much about any of them and I read the last page not caring that it was ending. It’s not a bad book. It’s not a great book. It’s not even a good book or an okay book or a so-so book. I’m totally indifferent and I think that’s probably worse than hating it.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

What I’ve Read: Caveat Emptor: The Secret Life of an American Art Forger by Ken Perenyi 

Early in this book, Perenyi paints a collage for his friends inspired by their recent acid trip. That sets the tone for the rest of this unbelievable-if-it-weren’t-actually-true story in which Perenyi forges popular 18th and 19th century American painters and successfully sells them to dealers and prestigious auction houses, including Sotheby’s and Christie’s. After moving temporarily to Bath in England, he begins to sell sporting portraits in London as well (jockeys, horses, dogs, etc.) Since the statute of limitations has expired—most of Ken’s sales took place from the 70’s to the early 90’s—he speaks freely about a life full of forged masterpieces, shady mob connections and auction house near-misses. He divulges a few tricks of his trade, but steers clear of any in-depth discussion of actual painting technique. For example, he discusses how he used used the bottoms of drawers from antique dressers to duplicate the wood paneling often used for paintings. He also describes in painstaking detail how he perfected a process for aging the paintings so the varnish would display properly under UV light. 

Although the book is incredibly entertaining, it’s obviously ghost-written. It is sometimes cold or detached and after finishing the book, I realized that I really didn’t know much about Perenyi himself. Aside from a few mentions of his family living in Florida, Perenyi’s personal life (and even his personality, to some extent) remains an enigma. 

While he keeps his personal life close to the chest, Perenyi doesn’t hold back describing the details of each painting’s creation or how it was sold. If you expect to see any measure of contrition from him, you’ll be sorely disappointed. There’s an element of pride there—why else would he have written this book? He enjoyed the thrill and he enjoyed being recognized for his talent. Escaping a cursory FBI investigation unscathed didn’t scare him into silence or prompt any introspection into the people whose money he took under false pretenses. He mentions several times that he thinks the painters that he copied would have been flattered or happy that he appreciated their work. I’m not sure about that, but what I do know is that this was an entertaining book and a quick weekend read. 

Have you read this book? What did you think?

What I’ve Read: Into the Darkest Corner by Elizabeth Haynes

Need a good book to read this weekend? This one is only $1.99 on Kindle right now and it’s pretty terrifying. (I mean that in the best way possible.)

If you were a fan of Gone Girl or Room, you’ll recognize that same feeling of dread and terror and the suspense of not being able to stop reading (just one more chapter!). The biggest difference between this book and those is that unlike in Gone Girl (horrible ending) and Room (loss of momentum near the end), Into the Darkest Corner steadily builds suspense until the last few climactic chapters. The ending is satisfactory and I read the last page with disappointment that I now have to find a new book that will hold my attention just as well.

A warning though—no spoilers, just general plot information—that Into the Darkest Corner is a book based entirely around some very psychologically disturbing domestic violence. It’s not as graphic as Still Missing, but just be aware going in that it does have some disturbing, violent portions.

Into the Darkest Corner is about Catherine Bailey and is told both from a present-day point of view and will alternate with flashbacks to her relationship with Lee, her increasingly creepy and violent then-boyfriend. The alternating took some getting used to for the first few chapters, but checking the date (especially the year) at the top of each chapter gives you a quick clue about what time period you’ll be reading about. (The chapters don’t strictly alternate. Occasionally there are several in a row of flashbacks or of present-day events.) In the present day, Catherine is struggling with severe OCD and panic attacks and slowly, chapter by chapter, a bit more of her story is revealed.

It was a completely unnerving and riveting book and if you’re in the mood for a psychological thriller, well—you can’t do better than this. (The fact that’s $1.99 on Kindle helps too.)

Have you read this book? What did you think?

I was going to post this with the book review this morning but didn’t have my book nearby. Enjoy! 

What I’ve Read: The Honest Life: Living Naturally and True to You by Jessica Alba

I’ve blogged prolifically (annoyingly?) about our use of Honest products. When I pre-ordered this book, I expected it to be a long advertisement for Honest products with a few eco-friendly tips thrown in here and there. I was pleasantly surprised to find out it’s actually a good book in its own right and I found it useful and applicable to my life. There are a few throwaway sections, but it’s an engaging, thorough book and one of the more approachable ones I’ve found about making eco-friendly changes at home.

Much of the book is geared toward parents, but there are other chapters—sections on food, style, cleaning, home decor and beauty—that would be interesting to anyone. But, if you are a parent, this book is a goldmine of information on how to make small, healthy changes that could have a big impact. Alba’s Honest business partner, Christopher Gavigan, wrote the original (and best) book on creating an eco-friendly, healthy home—Healthy Child Healthy World. But where that book is dry (no photos!) and full of research tidbits, The Honest Life feels like reading a magazine. There are huge glossy photos of Alba’s gorgeous family and home and each page has a colorful, eye-catching layout—it’s Healthy Child Healthy World for short attention spans, basically.

I think the best thing about this book is that Alba acknowledges on the very first page that she’s trying to make healthy living accessible and affordable, which is admirable seeing as she really didn’t have to. She admits she eats meat, doesn’t have time to wash cloth diapers and won’t grow their own food because she has a “total black thumb.” With that disclaimer up front, the rest of the book presents ideas softly—no scare tactics, no guilt trips.

The food section was one of the best. Each page lists seasonal produce with a few easy ways to prepare it. For example, “Asparagus - Roast it! Just drizzle trimmed asparagus with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and roast at 450 F for 10 to 15 minutes.” Shopping seasonally can be overwhelming if you’ve never done it and these quick and easy preparation suggestions for fruits and vegetables that can be intimidating—like radishes—is really great. (Other foods, like whole grains and meats, are also covered.) There’s a short section on baby food, but I wish it had been expanded a little. Another part talks about eating for weight loss, with Jessica’s weight loss green drink recipe included.

Obviously, the mentions of Honest get more frequent in other chapters (especially the Kids and Clean chapters), but the mentions are off-hand and it doesn’t feel like reading a brochure. Thank god. There’s also a bit of refreshing realism: Jessica admits that she tries to use natural products on her face, but can’t escape her addiction to Retinol products.

The Style and Home Decor chapters are less useful, and the latter especially so if you’ve already read Healthy Child Healthy World. Gavigan discusses healthy home products and resources at length in that book and Alba’s round-up seems skimpy in comparison. The Style tips are good, but the chapter is short and the message doesn’t seem to click compared with the other parts of the book. Did her editors request that she include something about fashion because people might expect it? I don’t know. Either way, it’s the shortest chapter in the book and given the tone of the whole thing, I expected something about organic cotton or natural clothing brands. She does mention how many companies are perusing more sustainable production methods, but then recommends J.Crew, Topshop and H&M on the next page. (There is a sidebar later about children’s clothing and she says that she tries to buy only organic or natural-fiber clothing for her daughters.)

One more thing: the Baby chapter includes a section about diapers that is, of course, pretty much a throwaway. She dismisses cloth diapers with, “I can’t begin to work out the logistics.” If you’re looking for a more reasonable discussion of the pros and cons of cloth diapers or nontoxic disposables, Healthy Child Healthy World devotes significant time to comparing the two. (Gavigan wrote it before Honest existed, so his writing and/or recommendations aren’t tainted with any affiliation to the company.)

I’m glad I bought this book and I’ve already used it several times as a reference—once for food, another time to check the ingredients glossary in the appendix. It’s worth buying the real book instead of the Kindle version (it will be easier for reference purposes, plus it’s full of photos). If this type of book interests you at all, I’d highly recommend it…along with Healthy Child Healthy World. I think they’re a good pairing and worth reading side-by-side. If you’d rather an eco-friendly tips book that’s less baby-oriented, try Beth Greer’s Super Natural Home (another great book).

Have you read this book? What did you think?