The Adventures of Sally

I'm back! Well, back to Virginia at least. I'm not back to full energy or even back to myself for that matter, but I'm definitely feeling better. Basically, life with two little ones was kicking my butt, so I went to my parents house to rest and recharge. It was a wonderful visit.

It was eye-opening, too. I had lots of help with my two little girls and was relieved of all cooking, cleaning, and household responsibilities and I was still wiped out at the end of each day. If I felt tired on vacation, no wonder I was exhausted at home!

During the relentless nursing, I finished reading this. (I'm hoping to start posting more of the reviews I'm behind on. But they will be short, starting with this one.)

The Adventures of Sally, by P.G. Wodehouse
I got an iPod Touch, which is just about the greatest thing ever. Since I'm nursing so much, it's fantastic to be able to hold something small, bright, and entertaining for all of the long days and tired nights when I am nursing a baby.

I downloaded the Kindle app for the iPhone, and I like to visit the Kindle store weekly to see what free books are the top downloads. That's how I found this gem.

It's a classic P.G. Wodehouse story, but not so over-the-top as a Bertie and Jeeves story. Beautiful young Sally inherits money and goes back and forth abroad and to the New York theater scene. It's more along the lines of a romantic comedy or a screwball comedy from the 1930's. It's light, it's fun, it's free. Love it.

Here's an excerpt for your reading pleasure, from a dinner at the boarding house where theater folk are giving a Sally a going away party.

"I have been asked," proceeded Mr. Faucitt, "though I am aware that there are others here far worthier of such a task -- Brutuses compared with whom I, like Marc Antony, am no orator--I have been asked to propose the health..."
"Who asked you?" It was the smaller of the Marvellous Murphys who spoke. He was an unpleasant youth, snubnosed and spotty. Still, he could balance himself with one hand on an inverted ginger-ale bottle while revolving a barrel on the soles of his feet. There is good in all of us.

Wild Fermentation

Wild Fermentation, by Sandor Katz

I'm starting to get way out there about my food... are you worried for me yet? The more I read, the more I am convinced that basically every culture has healthier food than Americans. The further back in history, the more nutritious the food. For example, if you go back several generations, women canned their own produce from their gardens. Better than supermarket food, right? Well, if you go back even further, before canning was invented, people used a process called "lacto-fermentation" to preserve food.

Lacto-fermentation used good bacteria to kill bad bacteria and in the process it actually adds nutrition to the raw ingredients. Here's an excellent article citing a USDA official who says it's actually safer than eating the raw produce from the fields (found via Food Renegade). My husband is totally repulsed by this method, but it's the same process that gives us yogurt, cheese, wine, beer, chocolate, black tea... you know, the good stuff!

I've made a few things using this method before, but reading this inspired me to start doing it again. Here's what's in my fridge right now:

From left to right, pickles, saurkraut, pickles, ginger carrots, pineapple chutney, and more saurkraut. The pickles ended up kind of yucky, maybe because I used the wrong kind of salt. They taste a little bitter and are carbonated, wierdly enough. As they say around here, that aint right. The saurkraut is a terrific condiment for red meats, although it discolors a bit after opening. The carrots are good with chicken and Asian dishes, and I haven't tried the chutney yet--it's on next week's menu.

I think most people who object to this book fall into two camps: either they are grossed out by the concept of using bacteria to preserve food, or they are offended by the author. Here is some philosophical musing on the two subjects.

I proudly call myself a follower of Jesus ("Christian" has lots of baggage, but I call myself that too). We are called to improve the world, just like Jesus redeemed us and made us a new creation. Eden wasn't a pristine wilderness--it was a cultivated garden. (Actually, part of the Curse was being rejected from Eden and forced to live in the wild, which is the best argument this bookworm has against recreational camping.) In the same vein, heaven is not clouds in the sky, but a dazzling city. God took us out of all of the crap that accompanies our humanity and instead applied the purity of the only perfect human, his own son Jesus. We are supposed to use God's law to transform our lives into what He intended for us in the first place. Ultimately, human being's mission on earth, and my job here right now, is to improve our immediate environment, redeem culture, and eventually transform the world. In practical terms, this means I'm not a raw foodist--I try to improve upon what God has given us, and that includes even small little details like making traditional saurkraut so that a lowly cabbage has extra flavor and nutrients. Theology always has consequences.

Which leads me to the author, who is also living out the practical implications of his worldview. He is gay, and lives in a self-described queer community in rural Tennessee. They live off the power grid and are self-sufficient. That community also wants to remake society, but in a way totally opposed to the Bible. I admire him for living out the implications of his idealogy. Frankly, I'd rather read books by people who are thinking and doing, rather than something like Julie and Julia, where the author just does random stuff to fulfill her angst. (But that's another book review.) I was surprised to read how offended people were on the Amazon reviews. There's nothing in here remotely obscene and gives about the same story you could find in a New York Times article.

I'm mostly using the recipes from Nourishing Traditions, but I like the scope of recipes and the ease of use. The author has a "try it and see" approach which is fun and relaxed. I recommend this book if you're interested in better food and better health.

Good Calories, Bad Calories

Good Calories, Bad Calories by Gary Taubes

The more I learn, the more I am convinced that if a scientific idea is popular, it is most likely untrue. Examples?
The four humors determine one's personality.
The sun revolves around the earth.
Leeches can cure a fever.
If a woman floats, she's a witch.
I'm sure you're nodding your head and rolling your eyes about those ancient, ignorant people. But what about our enlightened modern times? You might also believe, for example, that Americans are responsible for global warming. Did that one hit a little closer to home? No? Okay, how about this: maybe you think, like I used to, that saturated fat causes heart disease, eating fat is bad for weight loss, and lots of dietary fiber prevents colon cancer. Nutritionally speaking, this book rocked my socks.

Good Calories, Bad Calories was written by a distinguished science writer, not some dietary crusader. He seems to be writing for others in the scientific community and not the average Joe, so this book is quite technical, and frankly, a little too thorough for my sleep-deprived mommy brain. It's easy to get lost in the myriad of studies, interviews, hearings, and medical journals; I wish I would have taken notes as I read it. It would have helped me better summarize it for you, dear reader, and better argue with my husband about the best route to weight loss. I bogged down in chapter 9, when trying to keep track of the five different lipoproteins carried in triglycerides. I need to finish it later when I don't have a baby and a toddler competing for my attention. (I might watch this 1 1/2 hour webcast sometime when I don't want to read the entire book. What I did read, however, was thoroughly convincing and I'm already trying to eat differently based on what I learned.

He starts off with a brief bio of William Banting, who I had never heard of before. He describes how America, and then the rest of the world, came to believe ideas that are just plain wrong. For instance, did you know that high cholesterol is associated with longer life, especially in women? Indigenous people groups who eat no fiber have the healthiest digestion? And what we think of as common health problems (cavities, cancer, appendicitis, or really, almost every chronic disease) are almost totally absent in native, traditional diets. To make a sweeping generalization, not all calories are the same. Refined carbohydrates such as sugar, white flour, and white rice wreak havoc on our bodies. Here's an excerpt from the Prologue (page xvii):

The reason for this book is straightforward: despite the depth and certainty of our faith that saturated fat is the nutritional bane of our lives and that obesity is caused by overeating and sedentary behavior, there has always been copious evidence to suggest that those assumptions are incorrect, and that evidence is continuing to mount. "There is always an easy solution to every problem," H. L. Menken once said--"neat, plausible, and wrong." It is quite possible, despite all our faith to the contrary, that these concepts are such neat, plausible, and wrong solutions. Moreover, it's also quite possible that the low-fat, high-carbohydrate diets we've been told to eat for the past shirty years are not only making us heavier but contributing to other chronic diseases as well.

This book is just as much an indictment of modern science as it is an expose of nutrition. It's amazing to read how researchers and policy-makers became even more committed to certain hypotheses with overwhelming evidence to the contrary. To paraphrase that old saying about law, bad science makes bad food.

Marley and Me

Marley and Me, by John Grogan

I had no desire to read this book originally. It seemed to be romanticizing a crazy dog with irresponsible owners, and I had a strong hunch that the dog died in the end. I hate it when dogs die. Why would I want to read about that? Plus, this book was an easy reading top-seller, and I enjoy being contrary and ignoring popular trends. That's just me.

However, the universe conspired to change my mind. My mom recommended it, and she's not a sentimental person. The movie got good reviews. I had a free ebook copy. I was having a really bad day and needed cheering up. And now after reading it, I can see why so many other people enjoyed it too.

This one hit pretty close to home, actually. A young idealistic couple gets a really cute dog that ends up being a handful... check. Begin to outgrow their beloved home in a sketchy neighborhood... check. Start a family and focus on the all-consuming kids while the dog loves them unresevedly anyway... check. I'm at a different stage of life than where this couple ended up at the end of the book, and it was reassuring to hear from someone who made it through on the other side. Plus, it made me feel better about my own hyper dog!

This was a funny and authentic book about loving family, dogs, and life. Save it for when you're having a bad day, and I promise you'll feel better.

In progress

Has anyone else read A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving?

If so, has anyone else found it fantastically boring?

I kept coming across it in lists of great literature, and when I saw a free ebook version of it, I downloaded it right away. I'm still slogging through the novel (right now I'm on page 216) but I checked reviews on Amazon.com to see what others thought. At last count there are 816 five-star reviews. Just typing that made me sigh again. It's supposed to be an amazing, funny, brilliant novel about faith, which inspired the movie Simon Birch. I found that movie okay, although a bit emotionally manipulative. I've forgotten how it ended but some of the reviews on Amazon gave away enough plot points that if I stop reading A Prayer for Owen Meany I won't wonder what happened to the characters. I also learned that it contains 512 pages of narrative, which begin in the 1950s and keeps trudging on through all the way to Vietnam and Iran Contra. To top it all off, the book is also considered an excellent critique of the faults of American foreign policy. Haven't we been here before? Can we move on to something else now, please?

This reminds me of the preface of Fanny Herself, by Edna Ferber. Click here to read it. I might give up on this one. Life is too short to read boring books.

The Princess Bride

The Princess Bride: S. Morgensterns Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure, by William Goldman

I grew up watching the movie so I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Princess Bride. But two things about the book surprised me: (1) its author and (2) its audience.

The real author is William Goldman, a successful screenwriter who wrote Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, All the President's Men, and many others. He uses a literary convention of discussing a fictional book to tell a story about a fictionalized version of himself. As such, it's really a book for adults, not kids. There are a few things that kids won't appreciate (like the humor) and a few things that they hopefully won't get (like some mild racial slurs and the author briefly considering an affair in the preface) but mostly its a story about a grown man in a cold marriage and a grinding job, who still longs for the ideals of a childrens' story: true love and high adventure. But fictional book and the real one both reveal that however wonderful romance and adventure are, life isn't fair.

The author tells the story of being a lonely boy obsessed with sports who has no interest in books until his father reads to him the Princess Bride by "S. Morgenstern". The young boy is so enthralled with the story that he becomes a writer as an adult.

Years later when his own son could care less, the author reads it for himself only to discover his father skipped the boring and sad parts so his son would enjoy it more. To hopefully make his own son love it as much as he did, the author decides to abridge it and get his editor to publish it. We the readers end up with a story with running commentary on the story. The gimmick works: the Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern could stand on its own, but the Princess Bride by William Goldman will stay with me.

Here's some dialogue, which might be familiar to you if you saw the movie.

'She does not get eaten by the sharks at this time,' my father said.
I looked up at him. 'What?'
'You looked like you were getting too involved and bothered so I thought I would let you relax.'
'Oh for Pete's sake,' I said, 'you'd think I was a baby or something. What kind of stuff was that?' I really sounded put out, but I'll tell you the truth: I was getting a little too involved and I was glad he told me. I mean, when you're a kid, you don't think , Well, since the book's called The Princess Bride and since we're barely into it, obviously, the authors not going to make shark kibble of his leading lady. You get hooked on these things when you're a youngster; so to any youngsters reading, I'll simply repeat my father's works since they worked to soothe me: 'She does not get eaten by the sharks at this time.'

100 Cupboards

100 Cupboards, by N.D. Wilson

I've been reading N.D. Wilson's short stories and articles in the theology magazine Credenda Agenda for over a decade. He's matured from writing weird stories with off-the-wall observations to kooky stories with insight. I believe that writing, like any craft, takes much practice, and I'm glad it paid off so handsomely for him in this great story, 100 Cupboards.

The plot is this: twelve year old Henry goes to live with his relatives in small town Kansas after his parents disappear. He discovers secret cupboards in his attic bedroom, which turn out to be portals to different worlds. His understated uncle is more than originally assumed, his deceased grandfather's bedroom door is impenetrable, posted letters from other worlds deliver ominous warnings, and Henry finally plays baseball with other boys. Even though it is technically a children's story, it had me hooked from the beginning. I was completely spooked for the last half. (It probably didn't help that I was reading it in the dark, while nursing in the wee small hours of the morning.) My only quibble is there's no resolution to the story: this is only the setup for the next installment of the series, or what my husband calls the Tim LaHaye school of writing.

Here's an example of the engaging perspective Wilson brings to his story--constellations above watch Henry and marvel at his lack of imagination.

Above him, the stars twinkled with laughter. Galaxies looked. Nudged each other. Chuckled. He didn't even know about secret cities," Orion said. "His mother never told him."
The Great Bear smiled. "Did his dad tell him about forgotten doors?"
"Never."
"Journals?"
"Only having to do with science projects or bicycle trips."
"Maps?"
"Mostly topographic, or the kind that shad countries in different colors based on gross national product or primary exports."
"Nothing with 'Here be dragons' on the edges?"
"Never. He found a hidden cupboard with compass locks, and do you know what he thought was in it?"
"A unicorn's horn?"
"Socks."
"Socks?"

PS: While browsing through other bloggers' reviews of this book, I noticed that we all seem to have the same reactions: (1) Wilson's writing is so good that we can't help but quote excerpts and (2) it's spooky!