ewee (02/26): The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell

Thanks to a bit of a cold, I had time to layabout and finish this book. Another quick read, but a bit disappointing. I have to give it some leeway, since it's been over 7 years since its original publication, so undoubtedly, some of the ideas in the book are bound to be dated or even already part of popular culture enough to have filtered through other media.

Hm, first, it was neither the truly scientific nor journalistic book that I was hoping it would be (Luckyduck aptly described it as "hand-waving"). What footnotes he included were interesting (tho at least one had a mathmetical/typographical error, but yes, that is a bit nitpicky). The book had some truly interesting ideas and references. But so often he resorted to generalizations and oversimplifications.

For instance, he framed the Goetz incident so firmly that it's no longer journalism, but clearly editorialism (but perhaps I'm foolish to expect journalism here?):

[After listing the previous convictions/crimes of Alley, Ramseur, Cabey and Canty, the four young men Goetz shot on the subway. Emphasis mine.]

"It's hard to be surprised when people like this wind up in the middle of a violent incident.

Then there's Goetz. He did something that is completely anomalous. White professionals do not, as a rule, shoot young black men on the subway."

Gladwell then goes on to explain Goetz's upbringing and difficulty with authority, run ins with other young men (and of course, Gladwell mentions each time that the young men are black), and his application and denial for a gun permit (but no explanation of the reason why he was turned down, or how he managed to obtain a gun). Gladwell then mentions that Goetz mentioned in a community meeting that "The only way we're going to clean up this street is to get rid of the spics and niggers." Maybe I'm just being sensitive, but there does seem an element of racism and the possiblity of hate crime in all this.

Then he sums up this section with a bit of sympathetic editorial on Giuliani and Bratton, and makes the point that "you don't have to solve the big problems to solve crime. You can prevent crimes just by scrubbing off graffiti and arresting fare-beaters: crime epidemics have Tipping Points every bit as simple and straightforward as syphilis is Baltimore or a fashion trend like Hush Puppies."

Which is all very neat and simple, but seems to miss a very important point. What about the economic, class, and racial disparities that exist in our society that are at the base of so many of society's problems? Cleaning up the streets will not prevent people from going hungry at night. Crime wouldn't have such a hold on our society (no matter what Gladwell says), if people did not have to turn to alternative economies to survive.

Ok, ok, I'm being negative. Perhaps it's this head cold and sore throat that are making me grumpy (prolly not). Here's what I did like, and why I think this book is worth a read. Some of the studies are downright fascinating. It's science light, and not so well written, but there's stuff in there (the Stanford prison experiment, Sesame Street and Blues Clues, viral and direct marketing) that provide some interesting mental fodder. In addition to that, I get a sense that his ideas (7 years ago) were truly revolutionary from a business standpoint, and I probably take some of what he has to offer for granted.

So, yes, the paperback is worth a read. But borrow it from the public library and save the cash.

ewee (01/26): Black Swan Green by David Mitchell

Erm. So I'm beginning this year's challenge with a suggestion from last year. (Getting exposed to books I might never otherwise come across = BRILLIANT. Thanks y'all!)

Ok. So the book. Overall, a good read. As usual, there's much much better reviews out there (nyt, the new yorker, and the times [uk]). It's a lovely and tragic snippet of one young man's life and coming of age. Throw into that mix: snatches of the 80's (music references that I get!) and the sheer grinding weight of being 13 years old.

But there was one astonishing tidbit that sent me over the edge (in a good way). When the stammering pobrecita encounters Eva van Crommelynck, it seems to be a surreal bit of randomness. How does an eccentric old woman fit into this novel? For me, it *was* the novel. Not sure what it was, but it was good enough to be transcendent. I'd go so far as to say, skip the rest of the book, if you have to, but get that bit in. (Forgive any mis-wordings below, I'm deciphering the notes on my bookmark.)

"The poem is a raid on the inarticulate" -T.S. Elliot

"...the Master knows his words are just the vehicle in which Beauty sits... Your potter has made the vase, yes, but has not made the beauty. Only an object where beauty resides." [i.e. Beauty is not the words/art themselves]

"But if the right words existed, the music wouldn't need to."

"If art is true, if art is free of falseness, it is, a priori, beautiful."

And, reading all the bits out there, I was thrilled to hear that another book by the same author, Cloud Atlas, contains references to Eva van Crommelynck. So when I'm willing to test my luck (could she possibly be as inspiring again? it would be like lightning striking twice...) perhaps I'll add it to my request list at the library.

Kayan : 1/26 : Blue Like Jazz - Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality

"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way. I used to not like God because God didn't resolve. But that was before any of this happened."

I have been a "Christian" for 5 years. As with any faith belief system, if you take it seriously, you're going to have to figure out how your faith goes from being the religion slice of your life pie to the key ingredient that permeates the whole pie. The cinnamon in the pumpkin. Or the caramel in the apple.

With the Christian church, aside from the obvious hate-mongering right wing, I've been feeling more and more frustrated lately - often angry - that the Christian church does a lot of things for itself: to keep itself running, to love within itself, and if you don't fit a certain mold, well we don't really have time for you. Also, the idea of "outreach" is often tied with the idea of getting people to join the church. I was seeing very little pouring of unconditional love towards others - which is really what Jesus was all about. What is UP??!

I needed to reconcile my membership with this church with what I was doing with my faith. But I wasn't sure how, because I couldn't really put my finger on the problem.

This book - subtitled "Nonreligious Throughts About Christian Spirituality" - helped clear up some things for me. Donald Miller used episodes from his journey as a writer, a friend, a student at Reed College, a single guy who's trying to figure out love and a career and relationships of all sorts, to illustrate some of the misconceptions that Christians might have about God. In short, he takes "churchiness" out of the Christian faith; the picture quickly becomes surprisingly clear.

The biggest takeaway, perhaps even a paradigm shift, for me was this: it's not about me. I store up so much knowledge about God and revel in it; but what am I doing for others? If I believe in Jesus, I must see that he came to serve, to heal, to give, to hang out with the lonely. Everybody - especially women and the outcasts - mattered to him. Christians always say "follow Jesus." It is clear to me, more than ever, that it doesn't mean that I think about him in my head; it means I do as he did! (Duh.)

If anyone picks up this book, Christian or not, you're going to have to put down your current understanding of God. Miller brings up so many aspects of faith that made me question how I was living my life to genuinely care for others. At the same time, this book is very easy to read. Miller is hilarious, really. But while I LOL'ed, I was also having my life changed. In the end, God is really quite simple. And beautiful.

I ordered a box of this book. I have a copy for anyone who wants one.

7 x 7

For the second (we're instituting it) annual 26 books. 52 weeks. reading contest, we've corporately read 49 books.

A large majority were read by the ferocious Ewee, who read 29 books and reviewed them with utmost honesty, humor, and enthusiasm. Bravo, chica!

Other stats:

Number of authors read: 33

The breakdown:
Novels 24
Graphic Novels 5
Memoir 6
Non-fiction 5
Sci-Fi 9

Books read by more than one challenger:
Autobiography of Malcolm X (Ewee, Kayan)
Fledgling (Ewee, Yong)
Cannery Row (Rich, Yong)

Let the reading begin again!
- Kayan

ewee (29/26): Xenocide by Orson Scott Card

Under the wire (actually, I finished it last week, just been too busy to post, so I'm counting it in last year's count...).

This book resonated with me -- both good and bad. First the good.

When I was a child, I remember being captured by the idea in this book connecting OCD behavior and being godspoken (the folks who hear the voices of the gods). It's an interesting parallel, but I read it so long ago (and my memory is so faulty) that I completely gave up on ever locating the reference.

So, imagine my surprise, when early in this book, it became apparent that this was the source of that story. It was a neat bit of tucking in loose ends. (Since then, I've read Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down--an excellent and true story that explores the intersections of epilepsy and culture.)

The bad, well, the book was going along fine. And then it seems like Card hit a wall, and had to tie up all his loose ends. So he created a place (a nonplace?) where all the rules were suspended, and he could make anything he wanted happen. (Deus ex machina, anyone?) Kinda lame ending. And been reading a bit about Card, and not all of it is so nice. But quite outside of his homophobic (A variation of "don't ask, don't tell") and supposedly Democratic opinions (Real Democrats vote Republican! And are pro-war...huh?), there's some good and not-so-good (but valuable) analysis out there. Some snippets below.

From Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman (20 years later) by Elaine Radford (some is a bit inflamatory, but the author has a point):

...Anyway, if I wanted to nutshell it, I'd say that my objection to Ender's Game is that our society already focuses too much on telling the powerless to forgive and forget. We've got entire religions devoted to it."

From Creating the Innocent Killer: Ender's Game, Intention, and Morality by John Kessel (an extremely well written and well thoughtout essay):

It offers revenge without guilt. If you ever as a child felt unloved, if you ever feared that at some level you might deserve any abuse you suffered, Ender's story tells you that you do not. In your soul, you are good. You are specially gifted, and better than anyone else. Your mistreatment is the evidence of your gifts. You are morally superior. Your turn will come, and then you may severely punish others, yet remain blameless. You are the hero. ...

The problem is that the morality of that abused seventh grader is stunted. It's a good thing I didn't have access to a nuclear device. It's a good thing I didn't grow up to elaborate my fantasies of personal revenge into an all-encompassing system of ethics. The bullying I suffered, which seemed overwhelming to me then, was undeniably real, and wrong. But it did not make me the center of the universe. My sense of righteousness, one that might have justified any violence, was exaggerated beyond any reality, and no true morality could grow in me until I put it aside. I had to let go of my sense of myself as victim of a cosmic morality play, not in order to justify the abuse--I didn't deserve to be hurt--but in order to avoid acting it out. I had to learn not to suppress it and strike back.

We see the effects of displaced, righteous rage everywhere around us, written in violence and justified as moral action, even compassion. Ender gets to strike out at his enemies and still remain morally clean. Nothing is his fault. Stilson already lies defeated on the ground, yet Ender can kick him in the face until he dies, and still remain the good guy. Ender can drive bone fragments into Bonzo's brain and then kick his dying body in the crotch, yet the entire focus is on Ender's suffering. For an adolescent ridden with rage and self-pity, who feels himself abused (and what adolescent doesn't?), what's not to like about this scenario? So we all want to be Ender. As Elaine Radford has said, "We would all like to believe that our suffering has made us special--especially if it gives us a righteous reason to destroy our enemies."

But that's a lie. No one is that special; no one is that innocent. If I felt that Card's fiction truly understood this, then I would not have written this essay.

ewee (28/26): Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card

Well, it seems like Card gets better as the series goes on. Speaker for the Dead is more substantial storytelling, with more interesting characterization and plot development. Admittedly, it's still fluff, but one with such good anesthetic properties that it absorbed me with ease. It also helped that I was taken with the idea of having someone speak for the dead. That is, the idea of marking the life and death of someone by researching and understanding the whole person -- both good and bad, as well as their connections to family, friends, work, community. It's also fairly sensitive in its exploration of "other," even going so far as to set up a hierarchy of alienness. And it manages to weave together the stories of Novinha's family and their various hurts into a very readable whole.

Overall, a good equation: more good fluff = less television.

On My Road

Over an impromptu dinner party last Thursday, some friends had mentioned the New York Times. By the end of church service on Sunday, I was craving a Sunday New York Times with my cup of coffee in the sun. I suffered through Golden Gate Park's Summer of Love concert traffic to get to Peet's coffee on Geary and 16th, only to find that they don't sell any newspapers.

Slumped in defeat, I drove home, redeemed only by a spacious parking spot right outside my apartment building. Once upstairs, it dawned on me: I live a block from Green Apple Books! They MUST have it! Only this time, I would call first.

They have it! What's your name we'll save a copy for ya! Happily, I change into my favorite shirt and jeans, and trodded over in my flip flops, in the sun.

I thought of you guys when I read On My Road* by Holland Cotter in the Arts/Leisure section. It starts well, and ends well; everything in the middle is great too. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'll share my thoughts in the comments. You do too, ya hear?

Happy Reading,
- Kayan

* It's much better on paper, held in the flesh making crinkly sounds as a newspaper should, accompanied by a cup of joe. Try to make the best of it on a computer screen.... =p