ColumnRead a book, sustain your mind.

“Once upon a time…” It raises a question, doesn’t it? Once upon when?

As much as the people who populate a piece of fiction, the context of when a story takes place can be a powerful character in the books we read. When drives plot, creates action, and provides drama that makes us think and feel. When also, of course, helps set the scene, orientating us with a framework for making assumptions and even providing us with a vocabulary to use as we go. Yes, the simple and inviting “once upon a time” is indeed a loaded phrase.

Books that lean into the “back when” aspect of a story are collectively known as historical fiction, a loosely defined genre that includes novels whose action takes place (some say) 50 or more years before they were penned. From there, the category is really anybody’s game. Some authors use an era solely as a backdrop for wholly fictional characters, simply submerging make believe in a recognizable timeframe. Others painstakingly research and (re)create historically accurate, “real” characters and events, offering as little fiction as possible and avoiding the nonfiction category only by virtue of contrived dialogue and minor speculation. Most such tales exist somewhere between those two approaches, though all take us to another time and place.

Much like place plays a role in a story, requiring its own form of character development to ring true and get the reader where the author wants him or her to go, historical timeframes beg for their own meticulous construction. It’s not easy for a writer to give a moment of time its full due, presenting the sights, sounds, smells and nuances of a time gone by in a way that comes across as authentic. Done right, however, the result can well serve any category of fiction—mystery, romance, adventure, horror, comedy, you name it—elevating stories to present rich matrices of ideas.

Gore Vidal’s great Creation is an excellent illustration of genre (and a favorite of mine since I was young). The story takes place in the 5th century BC and has a fairly simple premise: An unlikely and largely unaligned Persian diplomat (a fictional decedent of Zoroaster who is handpicked to be the “real” Persian prince Xerxes’ childhood companion) ends up in the role of a traveling diplomat on behalf of the great empire. Here’s the cool part: During this period in history, Socrates, the Buddha, Confucius, Lao Tzu and other heavyweights are alive—and our hero, Cyrus, as he assumes his task of roaming and representing, gets a meet and greet with each of these visionaries.

The book is an arresting read: We get Vidal’s unique storytelling abilities (it’s a page-turner), tons of political and geographic history (note the Persian outlook here, as opposed to our usual view from Greece and the West of this critical time in history), and the opportunity to explore the lives and philosophies of some of the greatest innovators and spiritual giants the world has ever known. Pick your angle and you’re in. Obviously it’s all from Gore’s particular social and political angle, but what’s not to like about that? It’s his fiction, right? (Vidal haters and conservatives, please pile your letters here to my right.)

More on Later

While epics like Creation reach back to a time that (by definition) requires massive amounts of speculation, other successful historical novels tend to their expository, artistic and philosophical work using the more recent—and well-documented—past.  While this might seem to be limiting in terms of having to follow the strict rules of “what we know actually happened” and “who did what,” this is not always the case.

E.L. Doctorow’s masterpiece Ragtime, for example, covers a period of time in the early 1900s when our nation was struggling to cope with unprecedented social, political and technological change. Presented through the interwoven lives of three families—one African American, one high-class WASP and the other Jewish immigrants—the novel powerfully examines the many (think melting pot) issues and challenges its post-Civil War/pre-WWI characters experience. Though it uses a backdrop of people and events that are true to history (J.P. Morgan, Harry Houdini, Carl Jung, just to name-drop a few), Doctorow’s story at times has an almost ethereal, magical—even mythological—feel that gives us an emotional sense of the pivotal time that no direct read of nonfictional events possibly could.

Regarding even more recent events in 20th century America (if you’ll allow me to push the 50-year rule; do the 1960s and 70s now qualify as historical fiction?), consider Philip Roth’s (perhaps best) American Pastoral—a monumental look at the effects of the cultural milieu of the pre and actual Vietnam War era on the lives of a New Jersey family. While events remain true to the time, it is the very personal story of a fictional family’s interpersonal trials that illustrate the era rather than the events themselves. The overwhelming feeling one gets from this novel is that we at once comprise and are at the mercy of a great sweeping march of events that are beyond our control. Epic stuff.

As for specific events, it’s true that in many ways, historical fiction can offer as much or more insight into an era or issue than any nonfiction can—and have a cultural impact to go with it. Perhaps the best example of this in our modern landscape is how many Americans (non-African Americans, in particular) have only recently begun to get their arms around the truths of slavery and racism. The cultural influence of novels like Alex Haley’s Roots, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple and Toni Morrison’s Beloved, is immeasurable when it comes to our society’s relationship with this horrifying aspect of our nation’s distant and recent past, as well as, sadly, our current world. These stories have entered the mainstream lives of millions of all types Americans, influencing national consciousness and altering the way countless people view race and gender, as well as political, social, economic and cultural aspects of the country.

Finally, to give you one quick take on the breadth of the role of historical fiction on the literary landscape, consider this: In the last 10 InPRINT columns—none of which were focused on that genre, per se—at least 11 novels discussed would fit into the the category. All are wonderful reads: The Clan of the Cave Bear, Death Comes from the Archbishop, Disaster Was My God, Water Music, The Book Thief, The Last Nude, The Cider House Rules, The Paris Wife, Cain (for those of you who might count the Bible as history), The Buddha in the Attic and True Grit—along with American Pastoral. My take aside, these books are on the must-read lists of many people. Clearly, history is among the most versatile and popular literary tools, capable of doing so much more than just exploring itself through the art form. Historical fiction offers insight into our current selves and how we think and function as humans, regardless of what time it was, or is or will be—be it once upon a time or many years from now.

____________

History, mystery, horror, sex, war—a quick scan of the last 500 years brings to mind the following seven wonderful novels, each guaranteed to enhance your understanding of now by looking back at then…

Wolf Hall, Hillary Mantel (England, 1500-35)

Love a straight-up great story done right? You can believe the hype about Hillary Mantel’s 2009 Man Booker award-winning portrayal of Thomas Cromwell’s life and relationship with Henry VIII. Wolf Hall‘s gripping and rich approach to the classic tale reframes the usually unredeemable Cromwell into a more sympathetic character, while the righteous Thomas More suffers particularly ill treatment. (The book’s sequel, Bring Up the Bodies, was published just this year.)

My Name is Red, Orhan Pamuk (Turkey, 1591)

Nobel Prize winner Orhan Pamuk’s celebrated 1998 story of “miniaturist” artists in the Ottoman Empire manages to hold you with its unique storyline while at the same time playing with modern (and clever) literary techniques, adding a layer of freshness to this view of a very old world. Shifting voices and stories only enhance My Name is Red’s intrigues and mysteries, which are all worthy of Sultan’s court. (Also check out Pamuk’s intense The White Castle, another great historical fiction set in Istanbul a number of years later in 17th century.)

Girl With a Pearl Earring, Tracy Chevalier (Holland, 1660s)

A behind-the-scene story of the great Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer, his masterwork and his model, Girl With a Pearl Earring brings 17th century Delft to life as the backdrop for romance and jealousy in the context of family and class systems. Tracy Chevalier’s 1999 novel brings us in direct contact with the artist, era, and place in a way that even the successful movie could not. Anyone who has ever stared into the eyes of a great portrait and dreamily wondered, “Who is this person? What was he or she like? Why did the artists choose to paint him/her?” will understand the power of this celebrated novel.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind (France, mid-1700s)

A twisted and glorious fairytale set in prerevolutionary France, Patrick Süskind’s 1985 story tells us of of ill-born Grenouille, a wretched character with no scent of his own, but with an uncanny, savant-like ability to identify and create every aroma know to man. With a protagonist whose character and deeds rivals the greatest gothic anti-heroes, Perfume will bring you up close to and ultimately inside the mind of the madman—and all the beautiful and vile smells of a sad time and place.

True History of the Kelly Gang, Peter Carey (Australia, 1850-80)

Two-time Booker Prize winner (including one for this novel), Australian Peter Carey is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to fiction who seems to effortlessly transition his work back and forth between historical and modern life and culture. His 2000 novel, True History of the Kelley Gang is a fictionalized autobiographical account of the outlaw Ned Kelly, his gang and their struggles against the oppressive British Empire. Presented as a found manuscript and true to the vocabulary and vernacular of the time, this riveting and poignant “Australian Western” will have you deeply engaged in a people’s struggle.

Cézanne’s Quarry,  Barbara Corrado Pope (France, 1880s)

How about a murder mystery in which the great artist Paul Cézanne is a suspect? With paintings functioning as clues, Barbara Corrado Pope’s 2008 novel reads like a noir thriller with plot twists and surprises worthy of Dashiell Hammett. Cézanne’s Quarry is a prime example of how placing a simple mystery in the context of a time of tremendous artistic and scientific transition can elevate a story beyond the traditional whodunit.

History of a Pleasure Seeker, Richard Mason (Holland, France, South Africa, late 1800s-early 1900s)

Exploring the grandness and fragility of the Belle Époque in Europe, History of a Pleasure Seeker is the new (2012) and marvelously crafted story of (fictional) Piet Barol’s rise from poverty to potential greatness. Clever and upward-reaching as he is charming and sensual, Richard Mason’s unforgettable lead character’s attention to the details of life light up this golden era (the creation of New York City’s iconic The Plaza Hotel even plays a role). Mason’s particularly adept with his unflinching depictions of Piet’s many sexual encounters, not always an easy task for a writer.

Enchantments, Kathryn Harrison (Russia, 1917)

As if the life of Gregori Rasputin and last days of the Romanovs aren’t mysterious enough by way of historical fact, Kathryn Harrison’s latest novel (2012) brings us deep inside the world of the last “first family” at the conclusion of Tsarist Russia. The story is told from the perspective of the Mad Monk’s eldest daughter, Masha, who was brought into the inner circle of the royal family after her father’s murder only to share the beginning of the storied monarchy’s end. With its rich and poetic language, Enchantments is both chilling and romantic (the book’s centerpiece is Masha’s unique relationship with youngest Romanov and heir to the throne, Alexei Nikolaevich), and teases out the humanity from the violence and upheaval of the revolutionary era.

The Stalin Epigram, Robert Little (Soviet Union, 1940s)

A bit of a sleeper, but a powerful and memorable read, The Stalin Epigram is a fictionalized account of the Russian poet Osip Mandeslstam’s defiance of Joseph Stalin. The story takes place during the height of dictator and murderer’s purges, deadly “collectivization” and silencing of voices across the Soviet Union. Robert Littell’s 2009 novel is narrated by the poet himself, as well by his wife and friends who together deliver the poetry, courage and intellectual expression that was so violently oppressed during such dark days.

The Art Student’s War, Brad Leithauser (Detroit, 1940s)

Set in wartime Detroit as the city made its ascent toward becoming a cultural and industrial giant of the 20th century—and before its epic fall in the last quarter of that same century—Brad Leithauser’s story is of a young woman and artist, whose pursuit of independence and the development of her own aesthetic collides with the realities of war and its cultural influences at home. The Art Student’s War has a calm urgency to it, giving us the feeling that we’re sitting on the precipice of new and more complicated era—indeed the one we inhabit today.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly column, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

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InPrint: John Irving is Angry – Again.

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InPrint: Gatsby, Paradise and the 1% – F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pre-Occupation

Top image:  George M. Groutas, Prague Orloj (Prague Astrinical Clock), installed 1410

Photo: codepinkhq, Alice Walker, Washington DC, International Women’s Day demonstration, 2003

The post InPRINT: Once Upon a Time: Great Historical Fiction – 1 Genre, 10 Novels, 5 Centuries appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnRead a book, sustain your mind.

John Irving is usually pissed off about something and more often than not this is a good thing. After all, there is much to be pissed off about.

I’ve seen the author speak quite a few times, the first of which was in the early 1980s, when he was experiencing what amounted to pre-traumatic stress disorder about the nascent Reagan Administration. Predicting the advent of a new and undiluted form of greed and the muscle-bound bullying of the most fragile among us, Irving was angry in such a way that I would have been scared to stand next to him lest I suffer an errant blow. (He was and still is a stout and strong man—a wrestler’s wrestler). Not to be too dramatic (I was young and a bit star-struck at the time), but I recall an almost John Brown-like, call-to-arms fervor. Think “author does bully pulpit.”

The last time I saw Irving was about 30 years later. He was on his book tour to support 2009’s Last Night in Twisted River, and I was treated to one of his infamous diatribes about how nothing truly “great” has been written since Hardy, how Hemingway was and remains some sort of disgrace to the art form, and how all that matters in fiction is plot and that Queequeg’s coffin was nothing but “a flotation device.” (“Don’t you understand?! That’s its only reason for it being there!”) He seemed perturbed by the notion that anyone would disagree with him on these issues.

His rant came off as pompous and overbearing, and turned a lot of us off that evening. (A friend and Irving fan left vowing never to read “that pretentious ass” again.) But his arrogant tone was somehow bigger than our upset (he’s a powerful speaker, with a somewhat domineering air) and no one dared speak up to perhaps ask some obvious questions: “Should we assume, Sir, that you’re excluding yourself from the ‘nothing great has been written in the last century’ analysis?” (He was probably just trying to get a rise out of us in the first place; Irving counts 20th Century greats Günter Grass and Kurt Vonnegut to be among the “fathers” of his work.) Or maybe this: “When did you last read For Whom the Bell Tolls and what did you find ‘simple’ and ‘ad copy-like’ about that book?” Or something along the lines of: “Mr. Irving, about that coffin in Moby-Dick, can we surmise then that a bear is just a bear? A wrestler just a wrestler?” (Two recurring, highly symbolic presences in a number of his novels.)

I know. Looking back, I feel a little cowardly. (Still star-stuck, perhaps?) In any case, I left the talk as certain as ever of this: Agree or disagree, John Irving always has an opinion, most often a strong one, and he is wholly unafraid to share it with the world. But that’s what we pay him for, right? This is certain too: John Irving’s aggressive thinking serves us—through his fiction—very well, indeed. His latest book, In One Person, an examination of (among other things) what it means to have “crushes on the wrong people,” is no exception.

The Right Side

His public appearances (wisely cast) aside, Irving’s intensity is channeled into and through his consistently brilliant work. Often subtle, sometimes intense, always absorbing, his books have a way of suddenly, out of nowhere, causing a massive and lingering lump to form in your throat; disappointment, sadness, anger, joy, all are brought to bear in pure and powerful forms through his extremely purposeful and well-honed storytelling.

Many call Irving contemporary America’s Charles Dickens. He’s clearly sharpened his pencil at the feet of the great master—and, like Dickens, Irving the yarn-spinner is angry for all the right reasons. For going on half a century, he has created epic tales of the vulnerable yet strong—and the heroism that can be found in the combination of those two qualities. Often misfits in one sense or another, Irving’s characters are champion outcasts offering up and celebrating the diversity inside and between us—a diversity that is so often exploited and turned to hate by intolerance. Yes, there’s a lot to be angry about.

From his memorable early novels (which he maddeningly diminished when he spoke of them that night in 2009), through the mammoth success of The World According to Garp, The Cider House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany (I’ve heard each one of these referred to as the Great Modern American Novel), to his more complex, subtle and penetrating recent fiction, we’ve seen a progression of his talent and a fine-tuning of his messages. Despite the fact that his books are as diverse as his characters, a consistent thread emerges: John Irving has created and given loud and clear voices to some of fiction’s greatest cast-asides—real and figurative orphans of our culture.

When you experience Irving’s writing, you find yourself with the distinct feeling that you’re looking in the mirror. For the uninitiated, here’s how it seems to work: As we read these stories, we deeply identify with his central characters—no matter how off-center they seem to be. Their voices resonate too well and sound too much like you talking to yourself to seem in any way “other.” You—yes, we—are the misfits. And so it begins to dawn on us: The world— particularly our American home-team culture—is comprised of uniqueness; it is not the exception to the rule.

I remember reading the strange, sad and delightful The Hotel New Hampshire when I was a kid. I couldn’t get the photographs of the late genius Diane Arbus out of my head. Somehow, as in her disturbing work, the odd had become uncomfortably—and then comfortably—familiar. In the story, Irving serves up a sweaty lesbian in a bear suit, a brother and sister in lust, a suicidal dwarf writer—the bizarre roster goes on. As I read their stories, however, I began to think that this strangeness resembles who I am; I’m not a clean- and cookie-cut fascist who’s marching in lockstep into sameness. In Irving’s world, those bullies are out there, armed with injustice and guns and they aim to marginalize and even kill. But still, said this novel, we can fight back—and we can beat them. There is a potential for heroism in all of us. We just have to get pissed.

Irving’s anger at oppression (sexual, familial, societal, political, you name it) fuels all of his novels. It’s not always laid bare and red-faced, but it’s always poignantly present. And his indignation always seems to be on our behalf—reading him makes you feel somehow alright inside, like every foible and idiosyncrasy, every personal fetish, is okay and should be celebrated rather than buried. More than that, it is from these recesses that we can find and draw upon our inner strength. In One Person, for example, is the “memoir” of a bisexual man born in the 1950s that follows his story through to the present day (by way of the horrifying 1980s). It functions like a rifle shot aimed at sexual denial and its human consequences. As it’s put about the main character’s desire to become a writer (another of Irving’s recurring symbols), “it’s not a career choice.” You just are. Similarly, our lusts “just are” and to the extent that they harm no one else, they’re nothing to be ashamed of—in fact, they require our accepting embrace. Sexual oppression from without or within has dire results—protecting our very humanity is at stake. (Reagan didn’t even speak of AIDS until the last year of his presidency, by which time 20,849 people had died from the disease.)

Tolerating Intolerance

In the work of John Irving—whether it be the broad-bush, epic life sweeps of Garp or the more focused examination of identity issues of In One Person—the overarching themes are the same: what it means to be an underdog, the importance and meaning of overcoming adversity, and how we would be well-advised to accept each other in all our diverse forms. An exchange in the new book says a lot about the author’s most recent efforts. Of the narrator’s writing it is said: “The same old themes, but better done—the pleas for tolerance never grow tiresome.”

But wait, a quick epilogue: The quote continues: “Of course, everyone is intolerant of something or someone.” As for Irving on Hemingway and Hardy and all his wind about what fiction is and isn’t and should or shouldn’t be, I’ll leave him to his intolerances and continue to enjoy his practice of the craft. (By the way, my friend who swore him off has recently asked to borrow my copy of the new novel.) That’s just the great author being himself. To quote his latest one last time: “We are already who we are, aren’t we?” It’s best just to leave it at that.

John Irving has written 17 books and the Academy Award-winning screenplay for 1999’s movie version of The Cider House Rules. It’s tough to winnow them down to a short list—readers each have their favorites for so many personal reasons. Here are three of mine:

The Hotel New Hampshire (1981)

Coming off the success of The World According to Garp, which rocketed Irving to rock-star status among modern American writers, The Hotel New Hampshire was gobbled up by readers the instant it hit the streets (he subsequently found himself on the cover of Time magazine). The book lived up to its insanely tall order, delivering a story that entrances and absorbs with ingenious plot, and unique and powerful characters. Many of novel’s personae, such as John and Franny Berry, Susie the bear, Iowa Bob, Junior Jones, Chipper Dove and, yes, Sorrow the dog (“Sorrow floats”), have become archetypes of American fiction, representing the best and the worst of us, the weakest and strongest, the wicked and the wise.

Picking up on content from his previous novels, the book cemented some of Irving’s motifs in the national consciousness—soon after its publication, I first heard and understood the term “Irvingesque.” The story is of the Berry family, proprietors of a hotel in New England and then another in Vienna, where situations and characters parade before us with a “strange but true” essence that educates, entertains and alters the trajectories of the lives of the family members. Hilarious, gut wrenching and shocking (sometimes all at the same time), The Hotel New Hampshire chronicles survival (or not) in the face of the absurd and the horrible.

The Cider House Rules (1985)

One of Irving’s most high-profile novels (due largely to the great success of the wonderful movie starring Michael Caine and Tobey Maguire; Irving received an Academy Award for the screenplay), The Cider House Rules tells the story of a “special” orphan named Homer Wells. Set primarily in the 1940s, the book traces Homer’s life beginning with him growing up in an orphanage in Maine. There he is the receiver and witness of the work of the near-saintly Dr. Wilber Larch, who has dedicated his life to providing care for unwanted and unclaimed children, as well as safe abortions during a time when the procedure was still illegal. (I once heard Irving recall that upon reviewing his Larch character in a draft, he found the man to be “too good” to ring true. His solution: “I decided to give him an ether addiction.”)

Indebted to the great work of the good doctor, Homer nevertheless leaves “home” and embarks on a journey of self-discovery that leads him on a circuitous route through life as he navigates his emotional ties and personal desires. Irving’s exploration of marginalization and self-acceptance takes strong form here, and his delineation of hypocrisy, and what amounts to cultural crime (against women and children, in particular) has burned this story into the minds of many. (When a dear friend, a feminist activist and legislator, told me she considered this to be the modern “Great American Novel,” I understood exactly what she meant.)

A Widow for One Year (1998)

A three-part novel tracing the life of Ruth Cole, A Widow for One Year has a calmer darkness to it than Irving’s previous novels, even as it explores some of the same themes using some of the same devices (sudden death, rape, prostitution, the protagonist as a writer). We follow the life of Ruth in three sections, beginning with a challenged childhood in the 1950s where she suffers the loss of family members and the emotional absence of her parents. The second and third sections deal with Ruth’s life as an adult, trying to cope with the footprint of her youth and its impact on her relationships and lens through which she views her family and friends, the world at large and her career as a writer.

The novel has quiet power that’s different from the outrageousness of Garp and New Hampshire, where events unfold with a shock volume that can ring in your ears. Here—though similarly sprinkled and plot-driven by sudden and sometimes bizarre twists, incredulous characters that ring real despite their off-kilter behavior, and mini subplots that lead you out of the story, but around and back in again—the read elicits more reflection than reaction. In many ways, this is my favorite Irving novel—while I surrender some of the bombast and surface tics that I have grown to love in his work, the underlying messages and emotional explorations take up the space, leaving me smiling as much as laughing, sighing as much as crying, thinking as much dreaming.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly column, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

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Top image: Jane Sobel Klonsky

The post InPRINT: John Irving Is Angry—Again appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnRead a book. Sustain your mind.

From a book lover’s perspective, Paris is a gift that keeps on giving. The city has played host to countless writers and their stories, from the Lost Generation of the 1920s, to post-War Existentialists, all the way through to the present day, as new work set on this classic stage emerges as a matter of annual routine. Indeed, the City of Lights does more than provide a backdrop for many of these efforts, great and otherwise; when treated properly, Paris functions as a character in itself, interacting with plot and people to drive storylines and affect outcomes. In literary terms, both historically and aesthetically, Paris lives.

Last year, like any other, saw its own batch of new titles set in the great city. Of note are Paula McClain’s The Paris Wife (historical fiction answering Ernest Hemingway’s great Paris homage, A Movable Feast) and Lynn Sheene’s The Last Time I Saw Paris, both of which saw critical success. Two other recent novels – Ellis Avery’s The Last Nude and Alexander Maksik’s You Deserve Nothing – provide excellent examples of how the city’s presence can inform and bring power to a story’s moral, philosophical and political framework, as well as how the Paris “character” presents itself in two very different eras.

The Last Nude, by Ellis Avery

Arriving in Paris toward the end of the 1920s, 17-year-old Rafaela Fano is wide-eyed and willing to sacrifice her innocence to engage and survive a new life abroad. An escapee from her family’s plans, she has penchant for fashion and genius for getting by any way she can. Her practical efforts soon find her modeling for the great Art Deco painter Tamara de Lempika. They quickly become lovers and their relationship takes its place in local bohemian society, a world fast becoming jaded as its characters begin to achieve notoriety on a European stage nestled and antsy between two cataclysmic wars. From their union emerges some of the artist’s most influential work – a series of nudes that rockets de Lempika to prominence and fortune.

The Last Nude (Riverhead Books, 2012) brings us inside a forge of art and relationships, exploring the trajectories of creativity toward commoditization, and love and lust toward betrayal. The arc of survival and hope, born of the savage events of the earlier part of the century and moving in the inevitable direction of yet another grand pulse of despair, is perfectly set in the waning years of this golden age in Paris. At-once strong and fanciful, Rafaela is caught in an emotional crossfire, trying to negotiate a whirlpool of human instincts and traps as the story foreshadows a cynicism emerging alongside the brutal century. These themes aside, the story progresses firmly throughout – yes, The Last Nude is a page-turner.

You Deserve Nothing, by Alexander Maksik

Alexander Maksik’s 21st century Paris is a flurry of multiculturalism, parties and protest. Politically reactive and morally ambiguous, certitude about anything – from relationships to cultural classes – is at best difficult to grasp. It is in this world that American William Silver teaches his small cadre of sheltered, private-high-school students. Cynical children of diplomats and international jet-setters, they are enamored by every word professed by the Great Man. Struggling with his own difficult past, Silver finds refuge in the classroom, offering his young tribe everything from Romanticism to Existentialism, from Keats to Camus, as a foundation for becoming brave and effectual in a challenging modern landscape.

You Deserve Nothing (Europa Editions/Tonga Books, 2011) looks at the struggle between courage and human failings, between dreams and life’s reality on the ground. As a teacher, Silver effortlessly and arrestingly presents ideal forms and noble questions – notably the great (and some say only) choice of “to be or not be.” As a damaged person, can Silver himself face that question and emerge to lead the struggling youth around him to honor and greatness, or are his own imperfections too deep to stand up to life’s desires and ambiguities (so well-embodied by his adopted city and its moral and political flux)? In You Deserve Nothing, Maksik presents a true and deep sense of dilemma in a way that will have you looking inward, posing fundamental questions of yourself and your value systems.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson‘s biweekly feature, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examine issues in publishing.

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Main image: MoonSoleil

The post InPRINT: Les Histoires de Paris & Two Novel Additions appeared first on EcoSalon.

Homemade food tastes better. It’s cheaper and uses less packaging. Still, while we may want to pickle those cute, little Persian cucumbers straight off the farm at the market, it turns out we might not know how. As such, Vanessa Barrington’s new cookbook, D.I.Y. Delicious comes to us in a timely manner. Vanessa’s cookbook explores recipes for many basic food staples you may have only recently considered making yourself. No time like the present!

For example, I never thought I’d find myself so excited to make porridge (boring), yogurt (too hard), or kimchi (really?)! However, after picking up D.I.Y. Delicious, my mind is spinning with all sorts of new staples I could make from scratch.

The first page of the cookbook starts with a dedication- -¦to every eater and cook who has ever asked the question, “˜Why can’t I make this myself?’” Now you can. The cookbook includes recipes of varying complexity from simple salad dressings and salsas to more involved projects such as making tortillas and crackers to fermenting and brewing sodas and tonics. Let the kitchen adventures begin! Plus, as a veteran chef in the Bay Area, Vanessa adds her own twist to basic recipes – fig jam becomes Fig-Rosemary Jam, sourdough bread becomes Sourdough Cornmeal-Pumpkin Seed Bread and aioli becomes Meyer Lemon and Parsley Aioli.

If you are in any way a D.I.Y kitchen type or have been aspiring to outfit your from-scratch pantry, this cookbook is definitely one you’ll want to have on your shelf for inspiration and reference. I know that I’m jumping on the crème fraiche bandwagon. And fresh tortillas? I’m in! And yes, I even can’t wait to make porridge.

The book sells as a hardcover with wonderful photographs by Sara Remington, designed by Suzanne LaGasa with a modern day homespun feel, and retails at Chronicle Books for $24.95.

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The name of this litter – World’s Best Cat Litter – implies that they are, well, the best. Let’s take a look and see if it comes out on top and lives up to its name.

The litter is made with whole-kernel corn and other natural ingredients, which means it isn’t mined, drilled, or artificially produced. It’s a clumping formula, though the product doesn’t use synthetic chemicals, clays, or perfumes. And, according to the manufacturer, the World’s Best Cat Litter is biodegradable, flushable, and septic-safe.

As for the cons, they claim that because the kernel’s naturally microporous structure traps odors, the World’s Best Cat Litter starts to smell faster than other clumping litters. Most likely, you’ll need to change this litter more frequently.

However, what you trade in odor control, you make up for in health benefits. Unlike other cat litters, this is free from silica dust, which is harmful for your or your cat to breathe.

The bottom line? This litter is safe, non-toxic, and planet-friendly. While you may have to change it more frequently, the pros definitely outweigh the cons.

Image: wolfsavard

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Marketing 101: When it comes to auto racing, telling jokes, and launching a new product, there is one truism: Timing is everything.

Ladies and gentlemen, Lexus presents the HS250h.

The HS250h rolled into showrooms in fall 2009 and car buyers who love the Earth and luxury accoutrements like heated/cooled seats in equal measure, finally had a dedicated hybrid to call their very own.

Marketing 102: If an auto company becomes a national punchline because its cars won’t slow DOOOOWWWWNNNN, then it’s probably not the right time for delivering a new vehicle aimed at the same drivers currently stuck in recall hell at their local Toyota dealership.

The last five months were a glorious time to be luxuriously green, but all good things must come to an end. (For example, a sedan with sketchy brakes headed toward a brick wall.) Yes, sales of the HS250h are on hold until the kinks can be worked out, but it’s no biggie. There’s nothing to see here, keep moving. As Toyota president Aiko Toyoda said of the recall, “Quality is our lifeline for Toyota.”

Marketing 103: Never use the word lifeline when speaking of cars with the troubling habit of not reducing speed on Dead Man’s Curve.

I kid Toyota because they demand consumers make hard choices: “I’d rather not perish in a fiery crash, but I would save a ton on gas expenses while reducing our dependency on foreign oil”¦” But the truth is, I kind of liked the HS250h, and think it could play an important role in the yet-to-be-determined world of everyday hybrid driving.

As a part-time car reviewer, I’ve been behind the wheels of a number of hybrids and have generally felt better about the reasons to drive them than the actual driving experience itself.

Take the Prius, for example. Setting aside the holy-shit-this-hybrid-has-become-the-bus-in-Speed issue, it has bigger problems. They’re hideous. And in these here United States, they’re movement cars, huge in Santa Monica and Marin County and not so much everywhere else. Behavioral marketing expert Dr. Clotaire Rapaille goes so far as to say it’s sex that sells the Prius, not loyalty to Mother Earth. In a 2004 interview he told me,  “Right now the Prius will get you laid, just like when VW Beetles invaded college campuses in the ’60s.”

Only 1.6 million Priuses have been sold worldwide since 1997. (To put that in perspective, Ford sold 414,000 F-Series trucks in the recessionary year of 2009 alone.) It will always be a tiny fraction of car buyers who purchase what’s healthy over what tastes good, which is why the HS250h has a (rapidly diminishing) chance of making an explosion in the marketplace. Poor word choice, my bad.

The exterior of the HS250h isn’t dazzling – it’s more Camry than Lexus – but it’s no crime to be bland, at least not in comparison to the Prius’s metallic slug shell. At 24/35 mpg, the HS250h gas mileage is good for its class and the solid 4-cylinder 187hp engine has four drive-modes: Normal, Power, Eco and EV that helps increase efficiency and lower emissions. In five days of driving, the HS250h never had any of the hiccups or acceleration problems I’ve experienced in other hybrids like the Ford Escape. It has a kick to it and had no problem holding steady at 75 mph on the New Jersey Turnpike.

For the record, the brakes were a bit stiff, but not ineffective and I never noticed a sticky go-go pedal. Then again, I’m far from petite, so the G-forces of my driving boots may have overwhelmed the software issues.

Marketing 104: There’s no such thing as bad publicity…unless it includes the phrase “individual lawsuits claiming deaths or injuries caused by unwanted acceleration of vehicles.”

Where the HS250h shines is in all the creature comforts that could attract drivers who want to brag about going green over backyard Chardonnay without sacrificing a tool that lets drivers know of the location and length of upcoming traffic jams.

Starting at $34,000, the HS250h features the sex toy-sounding “Remote Touch,” which is basically a combo mouse/joystick that operates all the technology. It takes a minute to adjust to manipulating the cursor around the navigation screen, but it’s so intuitive to our techy lives that I quickly found it a vast improvement over the old button-centric dashboard. There are other fun design notes, like the gauge that keeps tabs on green driving, adjustable leather seats, key fob settings that automatically adjust to a driver’s preferred A/C setting, and an ability to upload GPS destinations from a home computer.

Personal maps, bioplastic material in the interior upholstery and satellite radio? It would be an honor to have the brakes go out. Besides, the HS250h has a collision system that automatically dials 911. It’s Mother Earth’s Indy car!

It’s hard to imagine that the HS250h will overcome this and be a player in the eco-conscious auto world, which is too bad because its luxury features could entice more mainstream suburban drivers and help get hybrids out of the “good-for-you” garage. It’s a fun ride and could have crashed the hybrid party. Whoops. Sorry.

Marketing 105: On second thought, timing isn’t everything. Braking is.

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Wild Rose 24 Hour Moisturizer for Normal to Dry Skin with SPF 6

I couldn’t love this moisturizer more and I’m very sad to say I’m nearly halfway through it. Oh well, at least I still have half left! It’s fresh and rosy, with a cool, watery texture that sinks into your skin fast but leaves behind an amazing, greaseless sheen. I do wish this had a higher SPF than 6, but the scent, feel and performance are great. Really – and this is coming from the woman who has tried it all, from Clinique to Estee Lauder to La Mer – eww, mineral oil – to Origins to Burt’s Bees. That’s a long-winded way of saying I’ll be buying this for a long time to come. Because of the low SPF, if you’re fair like me you will still need something with more protection if you’re going to be gardening, hiking or hanging out with your clinician friend, Carrie.

Silicon-Free Face Primer

This. Is. Awesome. I was glad to finally get rid of my old Smashbox makeup primer, which I almost never used (partly because I don’t wear face makeup and partly because Smashbox’s primer is not good for your skin or the planet). Most days I don’t wear much on my skin, but this is perfect under powder or concealer if you don’t wear foundation. A little goes a very long way – just the tiniest nib of a dab of a dot will do ya. The tube is generously sized and a pea-sized amount would slick on for miles, so I fully expect to wake up a decade from now with this still in my makeup drawer. I should probably check out the expiration date with the Korres folks.

Pro-Vitamin B5 and Rice Bran Lash-Strengthening Mascara

I was excited to try out an organic mascara; this one disappoints. I’m lucky to have naturally thick lashes, but this formula is so thin and the color is such a dull brown, I felt like I actually looked worse after application. To be fair, I’m very picky about my mascara, and I like a rich, thick formula because I refuse to apply more than one coat. The really bad thing about this product is the strong smell. I don’t know if it’s the rice bran, but it was very medicinal – like crushed aspirin. Sorry, Korres!

Lip Butter Lip and Cheek Tint

Back to the yummy stuff. I love the lip butter. It’s silky, light, tastes and smells delicious, and somehow manages not to be thick or sticky while also staying on my lips for several hours. And it makes a great eye and cheek tint, too! It feels the way I think a lip gloss should feel – creamy and healing, without being goopy or shiny. It doesn’t have the congealed texture of something like chapstick or Carmex and it’s also not drying like a lot of so-called lip treatments are (you know the ones, where you have to reapply every five minutes or run the risk of chapped lips).

And there you have it; 3 out of 4 ain’t bad. In addition to the luscious textures and pleasant scents, the packaging is great – matte, minimal and substantial.

Now, just for you: Korres is providing readers of EcoSalon a discount of 30% all products purchased online at korresusa.com until September 30th, 2009! Just use promo code ECOSALON when ordering and you’ll get this amazing discount. Enjoy!

Editor’s note: If you want more beauty product reviews and recommendations, be sure to check out articles from our resident beauty expert, Katherine Butler.

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“Sara! Want new SmartCar? Txt yes or no quick!”

Such a text message from your mother might be odd in some families, but not in mine (Mom sells cars faster than bootleg Louis Vuittons and also wields a mean text thumb). I didn’t hesitate. “Yes! Pics!”

I didn’t need a test drive. I’d been tooling around in an old, albeit fun, Jeep for several years. Well, fun when I lived in Pacific Palisades, California and a big day was driving to the beach four blocks away. My first winter in San Francisco with a canvas-topped Jeep – make that my first summer in San Francisco – was an exercise in austerity. I guess I was going for that weathered ski bunny look or at least that’s what I’ll claim in my memoirs. After some nine months of driving in all manner of weather with the plastic windows rolled up a boyfriend helpfully pointed out that they come down. Aha! That’s what those big, dangling zipper pulls were for! Who knew?

Weirdly, the Tesla roadster is not yet in my budget, so I’d resigned myself to driving my Jeep until the wheels fell off and simply parking a generous mile or three away from any green event I attended when the lucky text came.

Lest you have any worries about the safety of the SmartCar, let me assure you, it’s super sturdy. I know this because my mother managed to get into a wreck before I even took possession of my new car. Wasn’t that nice of her to test it out? To be fair, the collision wasn’t her fault. The guy in the SUV was just confused. Didn’t she know the golf course was two turns back?

This being a SmartCar, they don’t really have replacement bumpers just lying around, so I had to wait nearly a month for the damaged caboose to be repaired. (Mom emerged unscathed, caboose intact.)

Accident now out of the way, I made the trek to the homestead in Washington to pick up my little bean and bring it back to the Bay. And I have to tell you, the people you meet at gas stations and rest stops sure are caring folks. I’ve never before felt the likes of such popularity or perhaps I should say, worry.

Parked flush with our publisher’s hybrid Honda

More than once: “Are you safe in that thing?”

Chewing lower lip with concern: “Is that allowed on the freeway?” (We’ll find out!)

The polite: “How much did you pay for…that?”

And the distinctly thoughtful: “What is that?”

That, I’ll have you know, buzzed down the five at 75 mph all the way home with no trouble at all save for a few belches from semi-trucks.

Now, the Smart is what I would call an “active driving experience” – think a stubborn 3 Series. If you like being the boss of your hunk of steel as opposed to rolling over pavement like a stale marshmallow you’ll enjoy the way the Smart handles. What you may or may not enjoy are the looks. And chuckles. And pointing. And being flagged down from three blocks away by really cute men. Which finger you display all depends upon your personality and relationship status.

Smarty has some surprises up its cage. I call it the “Alice in Wonderland effect”. While resembling a glorified jujubee on the outside, the thing is damn near cavernous inside. I wouldn’t say it’s palatial on a scale of the Hummer, but the interior is so roomy you soon forget you’re in half a car. Of course, if you need a reminder just look in the backseat. Kidding! There isn’t one.

The Alice effect is so pronounced you’ll want to be extra alert – I have to remind myself every time I drive that just because I can dart in and out of traffic like a Tonka Toy on Red Bull doesn’t mean I should. This is a car for defensive drivers only. That said, it’s very solid for its size at 1800 pounds, earned a 5-star safety rating, and of course it’s loaded to the crannies with airbags. In other words, this is a blowfish waiting to happen.

Other features include a non-retractable “panorama” sun roof that is virtually the entire top of the vehicle (think Jurassic Park but without the dinosaur part) and lots of clever storage spots and witty accents for design geeks to love. True, the spare tire may be ridiculous, but the engine’s in the trunk – how cool is that? You won’t have much use for such convenient placement, however, as even after two road trips the machine didn’t sip so much as a drop from its two-quart oil well. (Oh, the satisfying sentence this writer has to forgo because they couldn’t make it pint-sized. Wholeness eludes my post – and let’s be honest here, my soul – once again.)

My model, the Passion, is the less pricey version but still comes pretty well-equipped with leather, daytime running lights, AC and tiptronic shift control. And being a web marketing gal, I appreciate the cool social network, Destination Smart, that doesn’t suck a digital egg, unlike Chevy’s Voltage. (I always loved MINI cooper’s marketing but never did fork over the cash.)

For a 1.0 liter, 70 horse, 3-cylinder car, there’s a pleasing amount of get-up-and-go. It’s not my turbo Volvo T5 of yesteryear, but one could call it zippy with a straight face. The only thing that took some getting used to for this stick-shift girl was the oddball gear transitioning: it’s an automated manual transmission. After two months of ownership, though, I only really notice the shift lag when my espresso bean is puffing up to the crest of Franklin. My friend, Nancy, likes to pat Smarty’s dash and say, “Come on, you can do it!” If you want more power, you can go with the BRABUS model (BRABUS as in Mercedes, the maker of SmartCar; there’s also the starter model, Pure, as well as the new cabriolet).

Already in need of a bath…

Anyone who has had to fork over $30 for parking in San Francisco can appreciate the Smart. While I have yet to perform a perpendicular parking job, the bean has been invaluable for errands and evenings out in the city. San Francisco, by design, has an abundance of short curbs between townhouse driveways that are often empty as only motorcycles and sub-compacts have a prayer of fitting in. But these almost-spaces are perfect for Smarty!

And oh, the gas mileage. I go weeks without filling up and look back fondly on my trips to Napa and, yes, the South Bay. Thanks to a respectable sound system and supportive seats with butt warmers even jaunts to San Jose are dreamy. I do get pulled over by cops quite a bit more now (what, you don’t?), but then I also get out of the tickets so it kind of works out!

Moving along. Road trip numero uno under my belt for the grand total of $35 in gas (Smarty’s tiny tank takes premium only, baby), I thought, where to next?

Westside girl and EcoSalon writer, Kim, had her birthday at the beginning of July, so it was off to LA for me. Despite all the heels and dresses and handbags five days in Los Angeles requires, the Smart has surprisingly ample storage. So at the last minute I thought, what the hell, I’m bringing the cat. I’m sure she’ll be as thrilled as I to see the old stomping grounds, right? Besides, cats love long car rides almost as much as they like being deposited for slumber parties with dogs at your buddy’s SoCal house. It’s one, big happy family!

My cat, Roo, on the road…

Roo upon learning she’ll be staying with dogs.

There’s no rating standard for this at Consumer Reports, but I’ve never seen a cat or rather my cat behave so well on a road trip. I mean, I’m not in the cats-on-road-trips business or anything, but surely this counts in Smart’s favor. Roo, a queenly Maine Coon, curled up in her carrier the entire way sans sedative, only occasionally popping her large, fluffy head out to remind me that I was in the presence of greatness.

Unfortunately, once in LA I took a curve on Sunset a tad too sharply, causing her to tumble out – of the carrier, relax! – and having figured out that she was not actually confined to her travel case, all subsequent driving was less than festive. The psychological jig was up. Ever tried putting a cat back into anything? Pandora had it easier. Once again, kudos to the SmartCar’s handling.

Two big road trips for a mere Benjamin later, I love my Smart even more. The only problem is that now I want to drive everywhere. Meet me for mojitos at the Parker in Palm Springs? I do have a birthday coming up!

Images: Claire Gordon, Sara Ost

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One of a pair of food documentaries making the rounds this summer, Fresh, The Movie, in contrast to Food Inc. (reviewed here last week) presents a vision of the possible by profiling heroes all over the country who are changing the way we eat. If Food Inc. was your wake up call, Fresh, The Movie is your call to action.

Fresh’s strength is that it shows the incredible creativity of individuals who are devoting their lives to producing food differently. The success of these individuals shows how organic, ecological farming methods can be viable, in contrast to what the naysayers in conventional food say.

Another strength of the movie is that it profiles people all over the country, not just on the coasts. For those who think that the good food movement is all about Berkeley and Alice Waters, this movie proves that’s just not true.

The movie features a small chain of family-owned grocery stores in Kansas and Missouri. The owner, David Ball, partners with local farmers to sell food produced nearby. At first glance, the grocery stores look like regular grocery stores (not glossy specialty food markets) but alongside the usual national brands are lots of choices of locally-produced produce, honey, jam, and fresh meat, available to everyday people in the community who might not shop at specialty markets. Ball’s stores are successful and they contribute to the health of the local economy by supporting nearby farmers instead of cheaper international producers. Ball’s business, community and customers are all better off for it.

Joel Salatin, hero of Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Food, Inc., is also profiled. His operation is so efficient that he says he makes $3,000 an acre, in contrast to his conventional farming neighbor’s $50 an acre. His customers are not all wealthy foodies. They range from people in his local community (and hours away) to fast food chain Chipotle.

Will Allen, who we talked about here on EcoSalon recently, (and who was profiled in the New York Times just last week) is also lauded in the film for his work in urban farming in Milwaukee.

There’s a farmer in Missouri who once raised confinement pigs until he was gored and nearly died from the antibiotic resistant bacteria he contracted in the injury. When he got out of the hospital, he realized how dangerous it is to dose animals with antibiotics to keep them healthy. He slaughtered his entire herd, started from scratch raising pastured pigs and has never looked back.

The movie includes a conventional farmer growing corn and soy in Iowa to illustrate the struggles family farmers are up against in this country. George Naylor has fought Monsanto and other biotech companies against the negative impacts of genetically modified crops.

If you haven’t heard of Fresh, The Movie, that’s probably because it’s being distributed grassroots style in private and small public screenings. I attended a public screening that featured a panel of local food activists, the filmmaker ana Sofia joanes and George Naylor – who traveled from Iowa to California to be there – answering questions after the film.

What a brilliant form of distribution to get people talking and working together for a better food system. Anyone can host a screening. In contrast to walking out of the movie theater and wondering how to get involved, you’ll already be among your own community and you can start to make things happen right then and there. Think of the difference you can make by just hosting a screening in your home, workplace, or community center. You can reach 20 people for just $20. Or up to 50 for only $50. Click here to find out how.

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As someone who lives and breathes food politics, agricultural sustainability and food justice on a daily basis, even I was surprised by some of the things I saw in this film. Food Inc. explosively details exactly how the food system serves the profit motives of just a few mega corporations, while failing to serve eaters, our health, the environment and the animals and workers trapped in the system.

In interviews, the filmmaker has said that he didn’t set out to make such a one-sided film but that the industries he profiled – Tyson, Monsanto, Smithfield, et al – wouldn’t agree to be interviewed or shown in the film. I don’t blame them. The information gathered from hidden cameras and interviews with brave individuals who don’t have a whole lot left to lose presents facts so damning and so incredible, it’s impossible to dispute them.

Anyone who agreed to talk on camera for this movie risked being sued. The mother who lost her young son to E. coli cannot say what she herself eats due to the risk of being sued for libel under the “veggie libel laws.”

Of all the food documentaries I’ve seen and food system exposés I’ve read, this film did a wonderful job of showing the human side of the injustices in our food system. Not just the environmental degradation or the lack of food safety, but the grinding human (and animal) oppression inherent in the system.

I was quite literally sick at the rampant and systemic injustices unleashed on farmers, farmworkers, animals, the environment and eaters as just a routine part of business-as-usual in the food industry.

If enough people see this film it could have the same impact that Upton Sinclair’s book The Jungle had on the meat packing industry in the early part of the 20th century. I think there should be a campaign encouraging everyone who cares about food to take at least one person who doesn’t care about food to see this film: co-workers, mothers, fathers, friends and lovers”¦because if everyone sees it, nobody will stand for business-as-usual any longer.

In addition to the mother who lost her son due to tainted ground beef, the film profiles a variety of people, like ordinary working class citizens who would like to eat better than fast food, but cannot afford to; poultry house workers who toil under horrifying conditions and are utterly powerless (the industry recruits and buses workers from within Mexico); and farmers under contract to large corporations who have no say in how they run their businesses or treat their animals and who don’t even make a living wage.

A Tyson chicken farmer agreed to go on camera. She had her contract pulled because she refused to upgrade her chicken houses according to company specifications that would have prevented any light or air from getting into her already crowded, fetid and utterly nightmarish chicken houses. Chicken farmers make an average of only $18,000 a year as contract farmers for Tyson Corporation. If the chickens and the farmers are treated so poorly, can you imagine what the mostly undocumented immigrant processors are subjected to?

Then there’s the man who runs a seed cleaning business (which used to be common practice back when farmers saved seeds). Monsanto sued him. His crime? By cleaning seeds, he’s “encouraging farmers to violate Monsanto patents”.

Nevermind that these farmers are the last holdouts not using Monsanto’s seeds, and should have every right to clean and save the seeds they use. Scaring the hell out of any last resisters is this company’s way of ensuring complete and total ownership of the seed market. When the seed cleaner was sued, he lost most of his customers because they became fearful of being sued themselves. The man had only three acres of land to his name. He finally settled with Monsanto, rather than fight and risk losing what little he had.

There are many more stories like this, as well as enough examples of a different way of doing things, that you will leave the theater thinking more carefully about what you are actually buying when you buy food and inspired to support some of the mavericks out there who are doing it right.

At the end of the film, one farmer says that if the people start demanding better food, the farmers will step up and provide it. In fact, farmers would love to do so. Without the consumer’s support, the risk to farmers for switching to a healthier paradigm is too great. If farmers know they can make a living doing the right thing, they will. This is the one essentially hopeful fact about this film. We do have the power to change the system. It’s as simple as refusing to buy what the system is selling. Don’t know how? The film offers several easy ways to start as the credits roll. They’re also linked here.

Image: Senor Codo

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