Regardless of my feelings about the weather this fall, it certainly has surpassed itself in terms of color. I can't remember a fall as vivid as this one in recent years. This particularly struck me on the one sunny day we've had in the last week or so. As the sun came out the trees underwent a miraculous transformation--they were golden, and burning red, and various shades of orange; the world lit up in the light of these colors.
I couldn't help thinking to myself, seeing the world going up in a flame of color, that trees really know how to die. They have perfected the art of dying in a blaze of glory, and if I have to die, that's how I would prefer to go.
But when humanity dies, we spend ourselves in a sea of pastels--silvers and grays, sometimes blue, muted colors that will not overwhelm or alarm our senses, that won't shock us into a premature departure. Since this thought about the art of dying entered my head I have been thinking about my grandma--she was 98 when she died, and she was a picture of the silvery state of old age: white hair, translucent skin, faded blue eyes, soft, soft hands, and a voice growing rusty after so many years of use. She is forever in my memory that way, stuck as "always-old." I wonder what it would be like to remember her in her younger days, when she had long auburn hair and bright blue eyes--features I can only imagine as her photos are all black and white.
We die in so many ways...the old dying slowly and softly, fading into shadows of themselves, while the trees set themselves ablaze, daring us not to notice their descent into winter.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
these are a few of my favorite things
I became an English major primarily because I have a sick obsession with books. The book that started it for me? Anne of Green Gables, in 3rd grade. It turns out there is an entire series of those books, so that kept me going for a while.
This sick obsession manifests itself in several ways. As my husband can attest, I am never NOT reading something. Although lately I only read for school assignments, I already have a list of things I want to read when this quarter ends. Whenever I move, the first thing packed and unpacked is my collection of books. Organizing my bookshelves is more exciting than unpacking the entire rest of the house. As they come out of their boxes I view each book as an old friend, waiting to be placed in its new home on the shelf.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step.
So I decided that I would make a list of my top 5 favorite books. This proved impossible, and I upped the count to 10. Not enough. So here are my top 15 favorite books--and yes, they are in order of favor.
15. Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt. I don't remember when I first read this book, but I instantly loved it, and if you're thinking you know this story because you saw the movie...I must insist that books are ALWAYS better than movies. I have yet to find an exception.
14. Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. I actually met Shauna at the Willow Creek Arts Conference 2 years ago, and she signed my book. With an orange pen that matched the cover. It was tremendously exciting. This is a beautiful book of self-reflection from someone who has grown up in the Christian world (she is Bill Hybels' daughter). Highly recommend this to all women.
13. The Neverending Story by Michael Ende. Again, if you think you know enough about this story because of the terrible 1980s movie(s) loosely based on Michael Ende's masterpiece, think again. This story is so engrossing that you will find yourself, like Bastian, becoming part of the book. I would love to see the movie remade to reflect his story.
12. Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller. When I read Blue Like Jazz, I did not see what all the hype was about. So I kind of wrote Donald Miller off...until someone gave me a copy of this book, a travel journal like none I have encountered before or since.
11. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. If you like writing, or just like reading really good writing, this is a funny and charming book. There are so many quotables that can be pulled from it, and Anne Lamott makes you feel like if you met her you would instantly be friends. (This is also how I felt about Shauna Niequist.) She has an irreverent sense of humor that makes you just love her.
10. Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov. I read this in an undergrad class on Russian literature, and it is striking for 2 reasons. The first part of the book is a poem--a beautiful, haunting poem about death and loss and learning to live. But should this list inspire you to investigate any of these titles, be aware that the commentary in the second half of this book is a farce. And a masterpiece of parody it is. Nabokov wins the genius award for this one.
9. Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich. I had a hard time choosing my favorite of her books. She is a Native American author with a voice that sings out of each page--her books are beautiful. There is no other way to describe them. This one is probably the most epic, but if you decide you want to read her, I have yet to find a book I don't like.
8. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. I would be remiss if I did not include this on my list, for I have loved this series since childhood. I remember finding books 6 and 7 in my grandparents' basement one year, and doing the equivalent of inhaling them. This one may always be my favorite because of the imagery it holds. You can't explain the Gospel more simply.
7. Gravity and Grace by Simone Weil. Another book that I read in undergrad that has stayed with me. My copy is underlined, highlighted, and tabbed to tears. Simone Weil is one of the great female philosophers, and this book is a collection of her thoughts and essays.
6. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a Harry Potter nut, and that I bear a special affinity for Hermione's character. If I could only read one of the Harry Potter books over and over again, it would be this one. It is THAT good.
5. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. If you have not read anything by Joan Didion, do it now. She is amazing. She began writing essays in the political movements of the 60s and 70s, and she captures the fervor of those decades effortlessly. This book is about the year immediately following the death of her husband, and it is poignant and moving.
4. Dracula by Bram Stoker. You may think that you know vampire stories because you have watched Buffy or read the Twilight series (yes, I have done both). But the original is much more thrilling, and more satisfying. Stephanie Meyer can't hold a candle to Stoker's original vampire mastermind.
3. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. Another author among whose works I have yet to find something I don't like. But this is her tour de force. It takes the lives of 4 Chinese mothers and traces their history as they come to America, have families, and leave their Chinese families behind. The 4 daughters must struggle to assimilate their Chinese heritage with their American culture. Amy Tan is one of those writers whose every word verges on poetry. This is a redemption story unlike any other I have read.
2. The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. I'm pretty sure that I could write my dissertation on this book and still miss some of the minute details that lie in every paragraph. This is truly a masterpiece. Originally banned in Russia at the time of publication, it takes a stance on religion and politics that is funny and powerful at the same time. The Devil comes to Moscow and all hell breaks loose. But this is a Devil like you've never seen him before. And this Devil brings peace to the restless. Bulgakov is a master of his words, his allusions, his history, his story.
1. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I don't know that I can convey just how much I love this book. Again, Barbara Kingsolver is an author I adore in general, but THIS book...this book is one of those books that sticks in your brain, and every time I read it I remember why I love it so much. (And I probably read it at least once a year.) Following a Baptist preacher and his wife and 4 daughters into the Congo, this story is one of remorse and forgiveness, life and death, love and pain, and how the human spirit goes on or gives up. Whenever I recommend this book, I tell people to make sure they get through the first part, since to someone less effusive it might be tedious. But this is a book you will not regret reading.
So there is my list. These are my friends. I cannot really express the way these books have embedded themselves in my mind, and they are all repeat-reads. I could probably make a top 50 list, given enough time, but who wants to read that?
This sick obsession manifests itself in several ways. As my husband can attest, I am never NOT reading something. Although lately I only read for school assignments, I already have a list of things I want to read when this quarter ends. Whenever I move, the first thing packed and unpacked is my collection of books. Organizing my bookshelves is more exciting than unpacking the entire rest of the house. As they come out of their boxes I view each book as an old friend, waiting to be placed in its new home on the shelf.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step.
So I decided that I would make a list of my top 5 favorite books. This proved impossible, and I upped the count to 10. Not enough. So here are my top 15 favorite books--and yes, they are in order of favor.
15. Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt. I don't remember when I first read this book, but I instantly loved it, and if you're thinking you know this story because you saw the movie...I must insist that books are ALWAYS better than movies. I have yet to find an exception.
14. Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. I actually met Shauna at the Willow Creek Arts Conference 2 years ago, and she signed my book. With an orange pen that matched the cover. It was tremendously exciting. This is a beautiful book of self-reflection from someone who has grown up in the Christian world (she is Bill Hybels' daughter). Highly recommend this to all women.
13. The Neverending Story by Michael Ende. Again, if you think you know enough about this story because of the terrible 1980s movie(s) loosely based on Michael Ende's masterpiece, think again. This story is so engrossing that you will find yourself, like Bastian, becoming part of the book. I would love to see the movie remade to reflect his story.
12. Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller. When I read Blue Like Jazz, I did not see what all the hype was about. So I kind of wrote Donald Miller off...until someone gave me a copy of this book, a travel journal like none I have encountered before or since.
11. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. If you like writing, or just like reading really good writing, this is a funny and charming book. There are so many quotables that can be pulled from it, and Anne Lamott makes you feel like if you met her you would instantly be friends. (This is also how I felt about Shauna Niequist.) She has an irreverent sense of humor that makes you just love her.
10. Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov. I read this in an undergrad class on Russian literature, and it is striking for 2 reasons. The first part of the book is a poem--a beautiful, haunting poem about death and loss and learning to live. But should this list inspire you to investigate any of these titles, be aware that the commentary in the second half of this book is a farce. And a masterpiece of parody it is. Nabokov wins the genius award for this one.
9. Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich. I had a hard time choosing my favorite of her books. She is a Native American author with a voice that sings out of each page--her books are beautiful. There is no other way to describe them. This one is probably the most epic, but if you decide you want to read her, I have yet to find a book I don't like.
8. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. I would be remiss if I did not include this on my list, for I have loved this series since childhood. I remember finding books 6 and 7 in my grandparents' basement one year, and doing the equivalent of inhaling them. This one may always be my favorite because of the imagery it holds. You can't explain the Gospel more simply.
7. Gravity and Grace by Simone Weil. Another book that I read in undergrad that has stayed with me. My copy is underlined, highlighted, and tabbed to tears. Simone Weil is one of the great female philosophers, and this book is a collection of her thoughts and essays.
6. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a Harry Potter nut, and that I bear a special affinity for Hermione's character. If I could only read one of the Harry Potter books over and over again, it would be this one. It is THAT good.
5. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. If you have not read anything by Joan Didion, do it now. She is amazing. She began writing essays in the political movements of the 60s and 70s, and she captures the fervor of those decades effortlessly. This book is about the year immediately following the death of her husband, and it is poignant and moving.
4. Dracula by Bram Stoker. You may think that you know vampire stories because you have watched Buffy or read the Twilight series (yes, I have done both). But the original is much more thrilling, and more satisfying. Stephanie Meyer can't hold a candle to Stoker's original vampire mastermind.
3. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. Another author among whose works I have yet to find something I don't like. But this is her tour de force. It takes the lives of 4 Chinese mothers and traces their history as they come to America, have families, and leave their Chinese families behind. The 4 daughters must struggle to assimilate their Chinese heritage with their American culture. Amy Tan is one of those writers whose every word verges on poetry. This is a redemption story unlike any other I have read.
2. The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. I'm pretty sure that I could write my dissertation on this book and still miss some of the minute details that lie in every paragraph. This is truly a masterpiece. Originally banned in Russia at the time of publication, it takes a stance on religion and politics that is funny and powerful at the same time. The Devil comes to Moscow and all hell breaks loose. But this is a Devil like you've never seen him before. And this Devil brings peace to the restless. Bulgakov is a master of his words, his allusions, his history, his story.
1. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I don't know that I can convey just how much I love this book. Again, Barbara Kingsolver is an author I adore in general, but THIS book...this book is one of those books that sticks in your brain, and every time I read it I remember why I love it so much. (And I probably read it at least once a year.) Following a Baptist preacher and his wife and 4 daughters into the Congo, this story is one of remorse and forgiveness, life and death, love and pain, and how the human spirit goes on or gives up. Whenever I recommend this book, I tell people to make sure they get through the first part, since to someone less effusive it might be tedious. But this is a book you will not regret reading.
So there is my list. These are my friends. I cannot really express the way these books have embedded themselves in my mind, and they are all repeat-reads. I could probably make a top 50 list, given enough time, but who wants to read that?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
on my mind
It has lately become a habit of mine that while driving home from class (in Chicago, 3 nights a week...) I think about topics to potentially blog about. So I do have some fun ones in store, people. Let me know you're reading; it makes me feel bad when I don't post.
Topic One: A few weeks ago I was at the mall, and outside a store which I have never entered (mainly out of fear of being attacked by overbearing salespeople) was a small congregation of people--a couple of nice-looking (and by nice-looking, I don't mean that they looked "nice") girls, and a pretty attractive (and pretty cut) guy...without a shirt on.
I was taken aback by this. Mystified. Slightly appalled.
I walked by in a hurry, trying not to look in that direction, but not really being able to help it...kind of like a train wreck.
It threw me for such a loop that I haven't been able to really process what was happening there. Obviously some kind of intense advertising ploy. And although I'm not really one for boycotts, I don't think I will be frequenting aforementioned store.
I think I am beginning to understand why it bothered me so much. It's the sad fact that sex sells. That the word sexy does not mean what it really means anymore--it has evolved into a common adjective that often really doesn't even pertain to sex. It pertains to an illusion, to some elusive standard that has overtaken our culture, the essence of desire, sleekness, seduction, attraction.
We are really living in a sex-saturated culture, and it scares me to think of what it will be like by the time my kids are in their teens. What it will mean for my currently-non-existent daughter to grow up in a culture that feeds off sex and sexual imagery.
I wrote a paper last spring for a medieval class I was taking about the "sex factor" in medieval times and the effect it had on the development of gender roles. In the 12th-14th centuries, sex was a taboo topic. You couldn't, in good conscience, even have sex for any reason other than procreation, and that only on less than one-third of the days out of a given year, due to religious holidays, saints' days, etc. So how did we get from there to here? Somewhere along the way, people realized that it didn't have to be a sinful thing. And I can get on that bandwagon. Sex in the context of marriage--not a sinful thing. Not even when you're not procreating. But THEN, culture continued to perpetuate this notion that sex isn't a big deal. And that's when we run into trouble.
Now that sex isn't a big deal, it shows up everywhere--movies, TV shows, books, ads, commercials, even IN THE MALL. Does this end somewhere? Does it reach a limit and then recede? Or does it continue in the same pattern, leading to looser boundaries and reduced limits?
I recently led a small group of high school girls, watching some of them graduate last spring that had come into my group as freshman. How do you convince teenage girls to hold onto their dignity and their purity in a culture that is telling them to be sexy at all costs? I resorted to telling them to hike up their shirts and wear skirts/shorts that actually covered more than three inches of their legs...but it might not be enough to combat the rising flood of sexiness.
I have to laugh at the irony of me writing this post...as I sit on the couch with my hair up, glasses on, decked out in sweats. The complete opposite of sexy, if you will.
I think I may start carrying around an excess of clothes. Apparently that guy in the mall was in need of a shirt, and I didn't have one to give him. What a sad story.
Topic One: A few weeks ago I was at the mall, and outside a store which I have never entered (mainly out of fear of being attacked by overbearing salespeople) was a small congregation of people--a couple of nice-looking (and by nice-looking, I don't mean that they looked "nice") girls, and a pretty attractive (and pretty cut) guy...without a shirt on.
I was taken aback by this. Mystified. Slightly appalled.
I walked by in a hurry, trying not to look in that direction, but not really being able to help it...kind of like a train wreck.
It threw me for such a loop that I haven't been able to really process what was happening there. Obviously some kind of intense advertising ploy. And although I'm not really one for boycotts, I don't think I will be frequenting aforementioned store.
I think I am beginning to understand why it bothered me so much. It's the sad fact that sex sells. That the word sexy does not mean what it really means anymore--it has evolved into a common adjective that often really doesn't even pertain to sex. It pertains to an illusion, to some elusive standard that has overtaken our culture, the essence of desire, sleekness, seduction, attraction.
We are really living in a sex-saturated culture, and it scares me to think of what it will be like by the time my kids are in their teens. What it will mean for my currently-non-existent daughter to grow up in a culture that feeds off sex and sexual imagery.
I wrote a paper last spring for a medieval class I was taking about the "sex factor" in medieval times and the effect it had on the development of gender roles. In the 12th-14th centuries, sex was a taboo topic. You couldn't, in good conscience, even have sex for any reason other than procreation, and that only on less than one-third of the days out of a given year, due to religious holidays, saints' days, etc. So how did we get from there to here? Somewhere along the way, people realized that it didn't have to be a sinful thing. And I can get on that bandwagon. Sex in the context of marriage--not a sinful thing. Not even when you're not procreating. But THEN, culture continued to perpetuate this notion that sex isn't a big deal. And that's when we run into trouble.
Now that sex isn't a big deal, it shows up everywhere--movies, TV shows, books, ads, commercials, even IN THE MALL. Does this end somewhere? Does it reach a limit and then recede? Or does it continue in the same pattern, leading to looser boundaries and reduced limits?
I recently led a small group of high school girls, watching some of them graduate last spring that had come into my group as freshman. How do you convince teenage girls to hold onto their dignity and their purity in a culture that is telling them to be sexy at all costs? I resorted to telling them to hike up their shirts and wear skirts/shorts that actually covered more than three inches of their legs...but it might not be enough to combat the rising flood of sexiness.
I have to laugh at the irony of me writing this post...as I sit on the couch with my hair up, glasses on, decked out in sweats. The complete opposite of sexy, if you will.
I think I may start carrying around an excess of clothes. Apparently that guy in the mall was in need of a shirt, and I didn't have one to give him. What a sad story.
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