Welcome To My Country by Lauren Slater

I am drawn to memoirs, especially associated with mental illness. To be inside the head of someone suffering from a disorder allows for a level of understanding that is unmatched by textbook facts on symptoms and treatments.

"Welcome to my country" is 80% wonderful. Lauren is a first-year counselor in a group home for schizophrenic men. Her fears-to-concerns-to-comfort spectrum show the emotions we've been warned first-year counselors go through "is this good enoug" "can i really help" "why are there no results".....

The problem with a memoir is that there's a part of a person that you really don't care about-- you still get it in writing, and have to schlep through it to get to the parts you like. Flashbacks to her adolescent, eating disorder years and her own desire for control just as her patients strive for it as well worried me-- not that everyone magically becomes perfect when they've gotten an MA or PhD, but that if these issues are resolved, tehy should not play so actively into the counseling relationship.

The family history her patients present makes you worry and think all at once. Some mental disorders are so engranded in envornment, others spring up randomly. Makes you never want to have kids, really.

Bottom line: I have total respect for those who do, but no desire to work with scizophrenics. Or in a group home. A dorky delicacy, but not for typical consumption..

Into the Wild: the Conclusion

So today is the march for life, so a lot of students are out. Because of this I am allowing my students to have a reading day. I think reading is important, and if we don’t model it for them, they see no reason to do it, so there I am, in my chair, front of the room, reading with them. I just finished Into the Wild for the second time, and I’m nearly crying. There are few surprises in the book, especially after having already read it, but there is still something that speaks to the reader, particularly if the reader feels for Chris McCandless.

As the cover states, in April of 1992, Chris McCandless walked into the Alaskan Wilderness after tramping around the country for two years. His body was found four months later. The mystery that builds is not a question of what happened to McCandless as much as why did it happen, and why did he do it. The story of McCandless has resonated with my students, but a large number of them cannot fathom why a man would do these things; the first answer is almost always “mental illness”. What could inspire a man to leave his family, give up his money and most of his belongings, for some grand dream of … something? Krakauer looks to the story of Chris, the people he met along his “quest”, the journal he wrote throughout, as well as the accounts of other men who’ve gone on similar journeys to try to get an answer; he goes so far as to tell his own story of hubris in trying to climb The Devil’s Thumb.

I have to say I admire what McCandless did. I could not leave my wife, or abandon my family the way he does; I also, however, see this as one of the downsides of relationship in general. I am big on freedom and choosing ones own path, but with that comes the realization, at least for me, that I must give up some of my freedoms for other things. McCandless simply does not do this, and the reason most would disagree with him is because it is easier for them to identify with the victims of this choice: the family and friends that are left behind. By becoming angry with McCandless for being selfish in his decision only supports the selfish views of the people that say he is selfish. “How could he do that do his family” could easily be argued with “how could his family prevent him from doing what he needed to do.”

I don’t think I would ever go off into the wild to live by myself, on my own, or even could. I would however love to find out how to live a bit more independently, and I don’t think my wife would completely disagree. We like having access to people, but don’t like having them around all the time, and McCandless, at his roots, believed the same thing (as witnessed in his constant relationships and repeated returns to society).

I would love being able to live independently; without a need for a job, or so many of the requirements that we really seem to put upon ourselves. And I, like the man, Rosellini, from the book, believe that humans may have gone too far (at least Americans) in that we can no longer live solely off the land. We have become a powerful tribe that needs the people around them to survive. I don’t like needing; I’ve always preferred wanting.

Who is Cacciato?

I'm really confused... I know, I know... Book #5 was supposed to be lighter and all, but it is definitely not. Exhibit A is the fact that its been almost a week since I finished my last book, because it has really taken some effort to get into Going After Cacciato, which I'm really only about 20% of the way into right now. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that it has taken some effort to get Going After Cacciato. I thought it would be a nice contrast to The Eden Express, since they both happen at essentially the same time, they're both pretty male-centric, and most of the story happens in the woods. I didn't realize that they both also have pretty heavy themes of distinguishing reality from perception. It is definitely not a book to only read just before bed. Partly because I need more brain power than I typically have by that time of night, and also partly because its not at all good for having pleasant dreams. I really like Tim O'brien and his descriptions of the humanity of the Vietnam War, which makes it significantly easier to get into, and I trust that it'll start to come together as we go along here... But at the moment, I'm confused.

The Non-Designer’s Design Book

I think that we all know good design when we see it, but what are the basic visual principles that are common to good design? And how can I become more creative with my own work?

The Non-Designer's Design Book, by Robin Williams, is one of the most practical, useful books I have read in my entire life. I refer to it just about every other week, and it never fails to inspire and inform me to new heights of visual creativity. Whether you create documents for business or pleasure, you would do well to read this accessible and charming guide to the basics of typography and document design. The book is filled with easy-to-understand illustrations of the principles she teaches, and the author even provides you with quizzes to test your understanding.

The first part of the book is organized according to the four principles of design: Proximity, Alignment, Repetition, and Contrast. In the second part, she addresses the basics of type setting, such as how to achieve “contrast” instead of “conflict.” After reading this book, I use font size more boldly and occasionally accent my handouts with scripts. The author’s promise, made on the back of the book, has actually come true for me: I feel that my documents look more professional, organized, unified, and interesting. And I myself feel more empowered!

Philosophers and pseudo-intellectuals out there will also find the book refreshing. Is art truly in the eye of the beholder? What does font choice say about a person, a time period, a culture? To what extent can layout be used to make an argument, and how does it affect the way we read text?

I used to think that personal preference played a much larger role in determining the appeal of an image or design, but the author provides insights that seem universal. In the examples she provides, it’s hard to disagree with her rationale for choosing one layout over another, and yet you still leave the book feeling that there are infinite possibilities for creativity. (After all, if it really were that cut and dry, there would only be a few good designs out there, right?)

This book has lead me to the broader realization that many plans and projects fail not by effort or ability, but by design. And this is why you cannot afford to miss out on advice like the kind provided in this book.

- Charlie

Introducing... Charlie!

I have accepted the invitation of Matt and Kate to join this project, because I admire their intentions and because I had already planned on reading a few books myself this year. You might think of me as their sidekick – they will take on 25 books each, and myself more like 10. Although I begin without anywhere near the same level of commitment, I hope that my posts will be worth the time it takes to read them.

I should note briefly why this is such an unusual project for me. I tend to read like a scavenger – bits and pieces, a chapter here, ten pages there – from about ten or fifteen books at a time. Finishing an entire book, for me, is quite rare.

Anyways, on to the readings!

Ulysses: Episodes 4 & 5

Episode 4 introduces us to Mr. Leopold Bloom who likes fried kidneys because the slight taste of urine that they have. Leopold is making Molly, his wife, breakfast while she remains in bed, and he craves kidney (they are out). I know this feeling. Often time I’ve been making breakfast (I am the breakfast maker, Kate prefers making the other meals usually) and I’ll crave sausage, also because of its unique taste. Sometimes I will even run out to the store for that specific purpose, which is exactly what Bloom does. The stroll to Buckley’s shop (this is the second book I’ve read with a “Buckley” in it) is well described and the reader gets a hint that Bloom is specifically trying not to think of something in regards to his wife. When he returns, he fries up the kidney, serves his wife breakfast, and proceeds to… relieve himself… no… do #2… no too crude as well. You get the point. While reading on the toilet he also speaks about the death of a friend, whose funeral is the focal point of the sixth episode, “Hades”.

Episode 5 sees Leopold taking a circuitous route through Dublin on his way to the post office where he gets a mystery letter from a wannabe lover of his. Again, Bloom tries to control his thinking; whenever negative thoughts of Molly pop into his head, he quickly seems to notice any and everything around him. He ends up at the Turkish baths where he buys some soap and makes his way home.

Describing this book makes it sound ridiculous, and I know I am doing it a great disservice. At the moment, these foul and sparse notes are really the best I can do, which is kind of sad. It is so much fun reading this book because of the amount of work and concentration it takes. It, like The Dead Father, is more about the act of reading, then the story itself. The way that Joyce juxtaposes the Odyssey with Bloom’s day should make everyone feel that their days are vastly meaningful; unfortunately, if you can’t make that leap, I can definitely see where a person would not enjoy this book.

“I can’t go on, I’ll go on”

Matt meant to send this email to Charlie

From: Kate Buckley [mailto:kshank@gwu.edu]
Sent: Tuesday, January 16, 2007 5:49 PM
To: 'Matt Buckley'
Subject: Ulysses

Ulysses is really good book. Its about a guy who does stuff. Its long as shit. That’s what I think about Ulysses.


What are you talking about?

From: Matthew Buckley [mailto:mattbuckley80@comcast.net]
Sent: Tuesday, January 16, 2007 5:34 PM
To: 'Kate Buckley'
Subject: Ulysses

Send me essay on Ulysses

Buckley

"It is better to travel hopefully than arrive"

The Eden Express, writte by Mark, son of Kurt, Vonnegut makes me think that I too am starting to lose my mind. The book is Mark's memoir, a hippie who graduated from college in 1969 (the same year Slaughterhouse Five was published), and then fled from his suburban life and famous father on the East Coast to middle of nowhere British Columbia to start a small farm/commune with a pile of his hippie friends and his dog, Zeke. And, the story of his schizophrenic breakdown. Likely due in part to his hippie thinkings, he tended to blame most of his early symptoms on the breakdown of civilization... "A sane response to an insane society."
At the start of the book, Mark is easy to relate to (especially for me right now, because I'm so tired of the city and the traffic and the people and the traffic and a farm sounds like total heaven). The first half of the book is about him finding people and land to establish the farm. After doing much more wandering than I would probably have the nerve to do, they find 80 acres only accessible by boat and move in.
Thanks in no small part to the influence of plenty of drugs, Mark starts to lose grip on reality.... He believes that he was responsible for an earthquake in California, and his father's suicide (which he imagined... Kurt is still alive and kicking), and, at some points, that his own suicide will resolve these problems. But I think that the oddest thing about the whole tale is that, Mark believes that the reason he is hearing the voices in his head is that he is finally able to tune in to them, and that this is a good thing. The voices are the result of ESP or mysticism or some other unknown realm, and his hallucinations are visions rather than biochemical reactions. And, in context, these seem like completely rational thoughts... That's what's scary about it.
The descriptions of his breakdowns seem so lucid that its easy to forget that he was losing his mind. But he seems to accurately describe the torture of the whole episode... losing 40 pounds, not sleeping for weeks at a time, convulsing... As he says "If there is such a thing as hell, and its anything like some of the things I went through when I was nuts, and you can acoid it by doing things as pretty as not coveting your neighbor's ass, by all means, DO NOT COVET YOUR NEIGHBOR'S ASS."
I'm totally into books right now that provide perspectives on things... walking a mile in a schizo hippie's shoes definitely provides new perspective. And as much as I enjoy when it when my brain is going 1000 miles a minute, the book makes me appreciate the quiet moments a little more.
Maybe book #5 will be a little lighter?

Ulysses: Episodes 1-3

So you know how Ulysses is credited as both the best book and one of the most difficult books ever written; they were kind of right. I've finished the first three episodes of the book (Telemachus, Nestor, Proteus) and am currently intrigued though little has happened. It seems to be the Seinfeld of the literary world. It seems to be about nothing.

Episode 1 introduces us to Buck Mulligan, who lives in a tower with Stephen Dedalus and a man named Haines. Buck is a bit of a prick but is totally aware of it, as opposed to Haines who is seems clueless to his own behavior. I found the episode relatively easy to read, although a quick gander at spark notes has since made me feel like i may have missed the last part of the chapter.

Episode 2 shows Stephen teaching at Mr. Deasy's school and there is an interesting conversation between Stephen and his student, Sargent. Sargent is not very good in school, and wrote his numbers (?) as a punishment. Stephen asks if he is able to do so without copying from the board and the boy says no. In the ineptitude of the boy, Stephen sees a shade of himself; he also compares how the boy's mother must love him to the relationship Stephen had with his now dead mother. This is a continual reference; Stephen did not pray with his mother and has not yet fully reconciled how he feels about her death in regards to this (Buck's aunt has also blamed the death on Stephen because he would not pray).

Episode 3 was tough and I think I wasn't quite prepared for it. It is non-narrative and takes place largely inside Stephen's head. I am unsure what is more unsettling: reading an entire chapter and not always being sure of what was going on, or reading a chapter of a character's thoughts and being able to follow it perfectly, if only at times.

This is the end of the episodes that focus on Dedalus, and from here the action apparently shifts to Leopold Bloom. I fear that this blog will sound pathetic as I am obviously missing quite a bit in regards to the book. I'm happy to be reading it, as I love Joyce, but I am continually reminded of how i did not get Portrait of the Artist on first reading, and, once again, am already looking to reread a book on this list.

Next book is going to be an easy one.

The Dead Father is Dead; Long Live the Dead Father

That was certainly an adventure.

Barthelme's The Dead Father was an enjoyable, albeit perplexing read. Since my last update the group read aloud the Manual for Sons which discusses various aspects of fatherhood and what types of fathers you should look out for (the falling father being one of the most dangerous). It was in this section of the book that I found the quote that inspired me to get the book itself:

"He is mad about being small when you were big, but no that's not it, he is mad about being helpless when you were powerful, but no not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it, he is insane because when he loved you, you didn't notice."

This largely sums up the purpose of the book-within-a-book as the fathers are often there to bother their sons. The startling conclusion, however, is that it is also the son's job to become the father, but to try to water down the role.

The chapters directly after quickly conclude the book. A horsemen who has been following the group is revealed, and quickly, as her name/position would imply, is sent away. Julie and Thomas have the most sterile and mechanical sex scene I have ever read, and the ways that people can make life so routine is revealed in the same way that humans can most affectionately express themselves. The book ends as one might expect, though it still is a bit unsettling.

Though a quick read, it deserves some time, and it would be a good idea to have a notebook or journal handy while you're reading. There are things that fascinated me that i know i am not recalling simply because there were so many additional things that ended up stealing my attention. This is the book that makes me wish i was in a "20-Century American Novel" class as I am sure it deserves more company.