Tuesday, July 1, 2025

Black Feeling Black Talk, and Black Judgment by Nikki Giovanni

Source of book: I own this

 

Both of these collections came out in 1968 - they were Giovanni’s first poetry collections. Because neither was that long, I decided to read both of them. 

 

Nikki Giovanni was one of the luminaries in the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s. She was an activist and educator, in addition to writing poetry and prose. 


 

While I have read fairly extensively from the Harlem Renaissance, I hadn’t spent as much time with the next great flourishing of African American artistry until recently. James Baldwin is probably the one I started with. More recently, I have read poetry by Gwendolyn Brooks and Audre Lorde and plays by Adrienne Kennedy

 

The Black Arts Movement may be in the same tradition as the Harlem Renaissance, but the forms and aesthetic are quite different. The earlier movement mostly adopted traditional European forms - rhymed poetry, linear novels, persuasive essays - while the later one was far more experimental. And more overtly political. 

 

This is certainly the case for Giovanni. These two collections contain many political poems, and even the ones that seem less so contain pointed references to the political situation. 

 

Giovanni was a lesbian, who was eventually able to marry her long-term partner Virginia Fowler after gay marriage was legalized. She also had a child as a single parent by choice in her 20s. 

 

She taught for many years at Virginia Tech, and had the mass shooter in her class. She demanded he be removed, and threatened to quit, because he was such a nasty hateful person. She succeeded in having him removed from the class, and was totally unsurprised when he shot up the campus two years later. 

 

She taught well into her late 70s, and only retired a couple years before her death. 

 

These poems are by the young Nikki Giovanni, and reflect her activism in the Civil Rights Movement as well as the big emotions and idealism of youth. They feel very fresh and relevant today, and also sound great read aloud. 

 

Here are the ones that I chose to feature. 

 

I’m Not Lonely

 

i’m not lonely

sleeping all alone

 

you think i’m scared

but i’m a big girl

i don’t cry

or anything

 

i have a great big bed

to roll around

in and lots of space

and i don’t dream

bad dreams

like i used

to have that you

were leaving me

anymore 

 

now that you’re gone

i don’t dream

and no matter

what you think

i’m not lonely

sleeping

all alone

 

I love the irony in this one, the way the meaning and the words are so opposed. 

 

The Funeral of Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

His headstone said

FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST

But death is a slave’s freedom

We seek the freedom of free men

And the construction of a world

Where Martin Luther King could have lived

and preached non-violence. 

 

The freedom of free men indeed. 

 

For Saundra

 

i wanted to write

a poem

that rhymes

but revolution doesn’t lend

itself to be-bopping

 

then my neighbor

who thinks i hate

asked - do you ever write

tree poems - i like trees

so i thought

i’ll write a beautiful green tree poem

peeked from my window

to check the image

noticed the school yard was covered

with asphalt

no green - no trees grow

in manhattan

 

then, well, i thought the sky

i’ll do a big blue sky poem

but all the clouds have winged

low since no-Dick was elected

 

so i thought again

and it occurred to me

maybe i shouldn’t write

at all

but clean my gun 

and check my kerosene supply

 

perhaps these are not poetic

times 

at all

 

I love the dig at Richard “I am not a crook” Nixon. Honestly, the root reason Trump is not in prison where he belongs dates back to the pardon of Nixon. He too should have died in prison. And man, this poem seems of our own time too. 

 

I’ll finish with this personal one. 

 

For Teresa

 

and when I was all alone

facing my adolescence

looking forward

to cleaning house

and reading books

and maybe learning bridge

so that i could fit

into acceptable society

acceptably

you came along

and loved me

for being black and bitchy

hateful and scared

and you came along

and cared that i got

all the things necessary

to adulthood

and even made sure

i wouldn’t hate

my mother

or father

and you even understood

that i should love

peppe

but not too much

and give to gary

but not all of me

and keep on moving

‘til i found me

and now you’re sick

and have been hurt

for some time

and i’ve felt guilty

and impotent

for not being able

to give yourself

to you

as you gave

yourself 

to me

 

There are more, but given the short length of the collection, I didn’t want to just reproduce the whole thing. I would definitely recommend adding these poems to your own collection. 

 

Monday, June 30, 2025

Lent by Jo Walton

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

 

This book was this month’s selection for the book club I am in, The Literary Lush. This isn’t a book that was on my list, which is often the case - the club encourages me to read outside my usual genres.

 

Jo Walton apparently writes mostly in the science fiction and fantasy genres. A quick web search will reveal her wearing a decidedly pointy hat, and she does look the part of a roundish, benign witch character in one of the classic stories. 

 

Currently a resident of Canada, she was born in Wales, and speaks fairly fluid Welsh. 


Lent is essentially two books in one. The first third or so is a pretty straight forward historical fantasy. It tells the story of Girolamo Savonarola, the famous (or infamous if you prefer) Dominican monk of the 15th Century, who attempted to reform the church and local politics, before running afoul of the secular government and the corrupt Catholic church. He was executed as a traitor and a heretic. 

 

One of the quirks of my fundamentalist homeschool curriculum from my childhood is that, while it was a pretty egregious whitewashing (and protestant-washing) of history, it did introduce me to some eras of history that few students even study these days. 

 

One of those eras was the Renaissance, and I learned about a lot more than just Dante and the great artists. 

 

Savonarola was one character I learned about as part of the curriculum. It has been a long time, so I didn’t remember everything - I definitely did a bit of brushing up as read this book - but I do recall that the curriculum (which editorialized about literally everything), had mixed feelings about Savonarola. 

 

On the one hand, he was everything a Fundie could love: opposed to secular culture and sexuality, tried to establish a theocracy of sorts, was big on moral reform. On the other, he was very, very Catholic, which was Bad™. And also, he didn’t just focus on supposed moral contaminants - he fought against church corruption, and advocated for civic care of the poor, which is, as has become ever more apparent, a big bogeyman for American right wing religion. 

 

He also had a bit of a gift for prophecy, which led to his rise. 

 

So, the first part of the book is all about the historical Savonarola, from his own perspective. But, with things like his ability to see and banish demons, and foretell the future very real. Thus, historical fantasy. 

 

But then, things take a different turn. We discover, when Savonarola finds himself in hell, that he is actually a demon, condemned to repeat a human life over and over again, like Groundhog Day.

 

This is, in fact, the central pun of the title. Yes, the season of Lent comes into the story a lot. But it is also about Girolamo being “lent” to the human world, then “returned” to hell, where he belongs. 

 

In that first iteration, he is given a magic stone, which he doesn’t know how to use. But when he returns, things go slightly differently, and he regains his memory of his past lives. 

 

Armed with this knowledge, he decides to change the future in two ways.

 

First, he attempts to avoid the mistakes of his prior lives, which led to his death. In addition to this, he hopes to make his reforms even more permanent. 

 

The second thing, however, is that he, along with fellow monks, theorize that maybe, just maybe, they can undo the damnation of the demons. Maybe they too can be saved, as mortals are. 

 

I won’t give away the rest of the book - a good bit of the fun is finding out all the alternative histories that the author dreams up. And also, whether any of the attempts to break the spell of damnation succeed. 

 

I found it an interesting read for a number of reasons, not least of which is the fact that the author clearly put in the work to get the historical - and theological - details right. This is historical fiction done right, not sloppily like so many modern genre novels do it. (One reason I don’t read that much genre fiction - there is a lot of dreck out there, and finding the gems isn’t always easy.)

 

The book is filled with actual historical figures, events, and controversies. There is a certain amount of artistic license taken in the sense that Walton puts thoughts into the characters’ heads, and invents conversations. But the backbone of the story - at least the first part - is thoroughly plausible. 

 

Also fascinating to me is that the various characters remain the same throughout each iteration. Yes, they do different things, they say different things, and they are worked upon by totally different events. But their essential characters remain true regardless of situation. 

 

So, the good, empathetic, thoughtful sorts remain that way in very different circumstances. The bad, cruel, and vicious ones likewise. Ditto for the greedy, the power-hungry, the immature, and so on. 

 

What changes most, perhaps, are the options open to the characters as each alternate timeline unfolds differently. 

 

The book also functions as a social commentary on history and our own times. Many of the issues still plague us today. The lust for political power. The hypocrisy of religious leaders. The sexual double standard. The questions of “moral” versus economic reform. 

 

And, more than anything, the seduction of pride and its seeming ubiquity even in otherwise good actions. 

 

There are a number of pithy lines that I thought were worth sharing. 

 

First is this early line from Savonarola, after he has banished a demon that had possessed a nun. The other nuns worry she could have been killed. He explains that God doesn’t give demons actual power to do true harm by themselves - they don’t kill or injure humans. But their true power lies elsewhere. 

 

“But their power to harm seems limited, unless they have human help. Then they can be truly dangerous…Strange as it is to think, some will risk eternity for Earthly power.”

 

Hmm, relevant to today, perhaps, with those currently in power? 

 

But Savonarola also notes that with the exception of those who lust for power to use to harm others, humans tend to have complex motives. 

 

William of Ockham wrote that going to church to display yourself and your piety was a sin, while going to church out of love of God was a moral act, but the two are indistinguishable to any Earthly witness. Old Giovanni Rucellai wants to give to God, and to save his usurious soul from Hell, and to make people think well of his family, all at the same time. Only God can judge the complex motives of a human soul. 

 

This is primarily true in the context of doing good, which can be done for any number of motives. The US probably ended Jim Crow primarily because it was losing the Cold War abroad because white supremacy undermined the argument in favor of capitalist democracy. 

 

I think it is less true of true vicious evil. Nobody commits genocide out of “good” motives, because there are none. Nobody rapes out of “good” motives either. You can see the difference. You can know people by their fruit, but good fruit isn’t always as good as it seems. That said, good deeds from impure motives are still good, and should be encouraged regardless.

 

One recurring scene is the death of Lorenzo D’Medici. As often happens, the relatives of the rich hover like vultures. 

 

No matter how big or lavish the room, it reminds Girolamo of many other rooms where families have gathered and squabbled waiting for death. 

 

There is also an interesting commentary on an issue that has plagued the Catholic Church for centuries. Walton addresses it from the perspective of its time, but also cuts to the bigger issue. Angelo, the poet, is attracted to men, and confesses on his deathbed. But his actions have always been with men, not boys, which eases Savonarola’s mind a little. 

 

He hates to see the young boys from poor families sell their bodies down under the Old Bridge. The sodomites seduce them into unchastity, turning their heads with flattery and paying them a little for their favours. If they get caught, it is the boys who suffer, who cannot afford to pay the fines. There are young boys there every day. Girolamo wishes he could rescue them, but what could he do with them? There are so many of them and they are hungry. 

 

Another recurring issue in the various lives is what to do with Isabella. She is a young woman that the Count has taken as his mistress. He now feels called to the church, but wants to do right by Isabella. 

 

He cannot marry her - she is below his social station. She cannot join one of the main orders as he can, because she is a “fallen woman.” The best he can do is either find someone who will marry here despite the stigma, or at least set her up with some money to start a business. 

 

There is also the option of one of the “Magdalen” orders - ones that fallen women could join. Isabella does not wish for this, as she does not accept lifetime humiliation for doing exactly what the Count has done. Except she at least had the excuse of being poor and lacking better options. As she puts it, “I have done nothing the count hasn’t done.”

 

She is one of two strong women in the book. The other is Lorenzo’s daughter, who really should have been his heir. Instead, she is relegated to popping out a never-ending stream of babies while watching the men fuck everything up. 

 

Another line that really struck me is one regarding the Count’s death (by poison in the first part.) I have seen in real life where people who weren’t particularly close to a decedent go around bragging about the relationship. Sometimes this was to try to get money. But often just for prestige. 

 

Now the Count is dead, Benivieni will spend the rest of his life going around telling people how close they were, how he was his best friend. Girolamo sees it so clearly he isn’t sure whether it’s prophecy or just an observation of human nature. 

 

In another passage, Girolamo contemplates the inefficiency of government. 

 

It seems crazy, and it certainly isn’t efficient. But efficiency is not the only merit in government. It is a bulwark against tyranny, and as one Italian city-state after another has succumbed to a powerful tyrant, their odd way seems better and better to the Florentines.

 

Take note of this with calls to make government “efficient.” That’s usually a code word for making government a weapon against its people. 

 

One set of recurring minor characters are Camilla and Ridolfo. They are parties to an arranged marriage, which she is unhappy in. The couple decide to dissolve their marriage, and take vows. However, his heart isn’t in it. As Girolamo tells Camilla, “God wasn’t calling him, it was just you and me.”

 

I suspect this is the case all too often. Let’s just say that I was not called to be a part of Gothard’s cult - God had nothing to do with it. But my parents “called” me - that is, ordered me - to join. 

 

I’ll end with a bit of theology. There is a passage in I Peter which refers to a belief of the early church, that between Christ’s death and his resurrection, he went down to hell and released the captives. This is referred to as the Harrowing of Hell. There are many perspectives on the meaning of this, and have been over time. 

 

The Evangelical one is pretty much the shittiest, of course, because a core Evangelical belief is that God will torture most of the humans he creates forever. 

 

An alternate which dates back to the early church, however, is the universalist one, that Christ saves all. 

 

This book adheres to that idea. Indeed, when Girolamo returns to hell each time and realizes he is a demon, he notes the utter and complete absence of human souls. They are all either in paradise or in purgatory. 

 

Hence, the hope that perhaps hell can be harrowed once again, and the demons given the chance to repent and be saved. 

 

This is the deeper meaning of the book. What does damnation and salvation mean? And how is the way we live our lives connected to that? I won’t give away any spoilers, but the conclusion is at least interesting in its hint about that. 




Friday, June 27, 2025

Sandwich by Catherine Newman

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

This was another random selection - I wanted an audiobook, and it happened to come up as available and recommended for me based on other books I have borrowed. 

 

It is probably the second-most “chick-lit” book I have read this year - the title for most goes to the gay farce I Might Be In Trouble. But that is to misrepresent the book a bit. This isn’t breezy chick-lit at all, but rather a thoughtful female-centered story that I think qualifies as literary. 

 

I think the reason my initial reaction was to classify it as chick-lit was that it does check some of the usual boxes, including what initially felt like a gender stereotyping of women as the emotional sex. But as the book unfolds, it becomes clear that there is a lot more going on than the opening pages would suggest. By the end of the book, the characters have all become more complicated and nuanced, and the emotions far from simple or black and white. 

 

The other reason, perhaps, and one I am aware doesn’t reflect well on my cultural conditioning, is that the book is all about emotions, relationships, and [gasp!] menopause - this is a book written specifically for a female audience, and definitely not with the intent of catering to men. 

 

I have thought over and over about how to write this post without spoilers, and I just don’t think I can do it. Thus, after setting the stage, I will give a warning, and the reader can decide whether to proceed. 

 

The title itself is a double entendre. Not a naughty one, but one which gives a clue as to one of the main themes of the book. 

 

On the surface, dang the characters eat a lot of sandwiches. But really, this refers to the fact that the protagonist, Rachel (aka Rocky), is at the “Sandwich Generation” stage of life: still getting a kid through college while also looking after aging parents. 

 

She is also going through menopause. And also still feeling guilt from a 20 year old secret - something she has told literally no one, not even her husband or her therapist. 

 

And her secret isn’t even the only one. Each generation has its own. 

 

The setting is a vacation cottage at Cape Cod - the family has spent a week there every year for decades. For this one, Rocky and her husband Nick are joined by her parents, and also by their adult children, Willa and Jamie. And also Jamie’s girlfriend Maya. 

 

Between the menopause, the secrets, and the difficulties of this time of life - children growing up and going their own ways, parents growing frail and ill - there is a lot of drama during this week. 

 

And yet, to refer to it as drama is perhaps too much. 

 

The thing is, while imperfect and human, the family is shockingly functional. They actually can talk about their emotions, listen to each other, and act kindly. And they all truly love each other. 

 

So when I say “drama,” what I really mean is that there are emotions, there are illnesses, there are some mild arguments, but everything comes from a place of love, respect, and mutual good will. 

 

And, coming from my own family background, WHAT THE FUCK???

 

You mean families can actually work like this? They can actually talk about things, listen, and show love and compassion, without a need to control? That’s crazy!

 

This book also really resonated with the time of life I am in right now. 

 

Our kids are starting to fly the nest, make their own lives, and separate from us as they should. Our parents are aging and experiencing health issues. Although I am not the one who will be going through menopause, a lot of the stuff in the book about that feels familiar. Rocky finds that everything irritates her, for example, whether it should or not, and even though she knows it, her emotions still exist. 

 

The family also is both familiar and aspirational. My wife and I are liberals compared to our parents (and I am the most liberal in my own family.) We too have had a kid come out to us, and chose to handle that in an affirming way, rather than in the condemning way my parents have. We are trying, in general, to raise our children in a less toxic and controlling environment than we grew up in, and to allow our children to become who they are, not political and cultural clones of ourselves. 

 

Definitely, the idea of navigating college, career, and partners with one’s children is where we are at. 

 

I really want to be like Rocky and Nick, mostly. (And, if I am honest, I really am more like Rocky…) 

 

At this point, spoilers, so….

 

As the week unfolds, so do the secrets. 

 

Maya is pregnant, and is unsure if she wants to keep the pregnancy. But worse, she hasn’t told Jamie, but instead tells Rocky (who has already guessed.) Unsurprisingly, this upsets Jamie. This bit of drama, though, results not in a big blowup, but in the characters talking it out, expressing their emotions, and moving forward in a positive way. Part of this is that Rocky acknowledges that Jamie’s feelings are valid, even if it wasn’t Rocky’s fault Maya told her. She also gives full support, regardless of what decision Maya makes. 

 

Likewise, rather than attack his mother, Jamie is able to express his hurt without accusing her of wrongdoing. 

 

So, that is one level of secret. And some decisions that will need to be made. 

 

But the older generation has some secrets too. Rocky’s mom is having heart issues, something she hasn’t told her daughter (and only child.) So this has to be talked through, particularly after a fainting episode at the beach followed by an emergency room visit. 

 

That isn’t the only secret either. Rocky’s dad has never told her that his parents died in the Holocaust - something that comes out when Willa starts asking questions. 

 

So yeah, big time generational trauma. It is amazing that this family is as functional as it is. But that seems in significant part because each generation has chosen to respond with love, even if imperfect, rather than control. 

 

And then, there is the big one for Rocky. 

 

Twenty years prior, in the throes of having two small children, and probably postpartum depression (before that was regularly diagnosed and treated), she found herself pregnant. She got an abortion, but never told anyone. 

 

Despite being (and remaining) pro-choice, she was blindsided by her feelings, which went from ambivalence to a deep desire to get pregnant again. This was followed by miscarriage and then an inability to conceive. So, a big festering ball of guilt, grief, and loneliness, because she never talked about it. 

 

Menopause brings up all these suppressed emotions. The end of Rocky’s fertility, her feeling that her body is betraying her, and her struggle to deal with hormonal emotions. 

 

I hope this doesn’t sound like a downer of a book. It isn’t. At times it is laugh out loud hilarious. Rocky is a superb protagonist and narrator, likeable even when frustrating. And so very human. She is obviously the glue that holds the family together, so her tendency toward anxiety is understandable, even though she knows it isn’t always healthy. 

 

The other characters are believable, individual, and human as well. As are the family dynamics. The petty frustrations, the personality clashes, the predictable and longstanding tensions. But also the way that people who genuinely love, respect, and like each other work through the inevitable clashes. 

 

My own experience has been and is like this in part. My wife and I definitely fit this pattern - we have been together more than a quarter century, and we really do make the effort to fight fair, to work through disagreements, and to find common solutions. Likewise, my brother and I have always been close, so that side of the family relationship fits. 

 

I wish the other relationships in my family could have gone this direction. Unfortunately, mental illness, personality disorders, and toxic authoritarian parenting beliefs ultimately severed those relationships. In the book, there is a nod in this direction - Nick’s mother is a bigoted addict, and thus, really doesn’t have a relationship with Nick’s kids. Thus it goes, and for my parents as well. 

 

Sandwich isn’t the sort of book I would normally seek out, but it was a good read. I should say as well that I approve of the trend toward middle aged female protagonists - we have had so many middle aged guys already, but women have tended to be invisible. That is a shame, because, in my experience, middle aged women are actually pretty awesome to have as friends. 

 

The audiobook was narrated by Nan McNamara, who I am not familiar with, but who did an excellent job. I think she captured Rocky’s voice well. 

 

Thursday, June 26, 2025

The Toynbee Convector by Ray Bradbury

Source of book: I own this

 

I have two main qualifications for books I bring with me when backpacking. First, it must be small and light - I’m not carrying a five pound hardback with me. Second, it must be cheap and disposable, so if something happens to it (such as getting wet in a rainstorm), it is no big loss. 

 

What this means is that typically I carry a small trade paperback that I can replace easily. 

 

I took two backpacking trips this month, one with my brother and a bunch of kids; the second with some friends. Over the course of the two trips, I read this book. 

 

The Toynbee Convector is a collection of short stories, published as a collection in 1988. Several of the stories are unique to this book, while others were first published in magazines. The title story, for example, was first published in Playboy. (Proof, I guess, that maybe you should read it for the articles?)

 

There isn’t really any theme tying the stories together. They are in a wide range of genres, from science fiction to horror to realist. If anything, I would say that the passage of time and aging are threads that run through most of the stories. Since this collection dates rather later in life, this would be expected. 

 

Bradbury wrote a LOT of short stories - something over 400 in his lifetime. My own first experience of Bradbury was through a double collection, Twice 22, which combined The Golden Apples of the Sun and A Medicine for Melancholy. (The former includes “A Sound of Thunder,” perhaps the most memorable use of the Butterfly Effect ever.) 

 

This collection contains 23 stories. I won’t go through all of them, but just mention the ones that stood out to me, for better and occasionally worse. 

 

I have mentioned before that Bradbury struggled to write female characters, and his casual sexism can get annoying. The good news about this collection is that he handles female characters better in some of the stories, even letting them be protagonists. That said, there is one story (“A Touch of Petulance”) that is pretty much the “I hate my wife” joke but with time travel. 

 

Because of the nature of short stories, I can’t really mention specifics without some spoilers. So be warned. If you want all the surprises, read the book first, then come back. 

 

The title story is an interesting science fiction thought experiment. The central character, 100 years before the present, claimed to have visited the future. He showed videos and photos of incredible progress. Amazing technology that benefited everyone. Progress against disease and poverty. World peace. 

 

Fast forward the 100 years, and guess what? All that happened. But the reclusive man who saw it grants a last interview in which he admits it was all a hoax. He used miniatures to create his fantasy world. 

 

What he did do, though, is inspire the progress that he hoped would happen. I have been struck by this in our own time. It is easy to imagine hellscapes - and indeed to make them come true. But human progress has always come as the result of imagination. Those who have the ability to foresee a better possible future and inspire others to help make it happen. 

 

I believe these people exist today among us - many of them are women, contrary to Bradbury’s story - and in fact they often have been women in the past. We can imagine a better future, and bring it to life. 

 

“Trapdoor” is a straight up horror story. Bradbury is actually one of my favorite horror writers, and this little gem is delicious. 

 

“On the Orient, North” may be my very favorite of the collection. I ended up reading it to my hiking companions on our first trip. (My brother brings short stories to read in the evenings, which is a favorite tradition for our trips.) 

 

That story is a ghost story. An ancient man travels on the famed railroad, and is recognized by a retired nurse as a ghost. He is trying to relocate to England - some superstitious backwater where he will be appreciated. But traveling through western Europe, with all its atheism and rationality, is literally “killing” him. Yes, he’s already dead, but he would cease to exist without belief. She maintains his life by reading him literature with ghosts: Hamlet, A Christmas Carol, and so on. 

 

It’s a sweet story, and quite imaginative. 

 

There are several realistic stories involving love affairs of various sorts. “The Laurel and Hardy Love Affair” is about a sweet but doomed romance - a disagreement about their mutual future separates them. “Promises, Promises” is an ethical dilemma that arises after a man’s daughter has a near-fatal accident, and in a bargain with God, he promises to give up his mistress. The story is about the final meeting between the two. 

 

There are also several stories about age and memory. In “Layfayette, Farewell,” an old veteran comes to terms with his memories and his guilt about killing. “Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned” is about an old priest who hears a confession - his own - to a childhood betrayal, and is able to finally forgive himself. “Junior” is a rather dirty story about an old man’s last erection. 

 

There are two others I want to mention, that I thought were particularly interesting. 

 

“Come, and Bring Constance” is truly bizarre and even a bit inexplicable. The husband in the story receives an invitation from his psychologist to an event, with the post-script “Come, and bring Constance.” 

 

The problem? Nobody knows who Constance is. The wife thinks she must be a mistress, and is jealous. But the husband has never known anyone by that name. When he calls his psychologist, things get even weirder. Constance shows up at the house, bold, big, and brassy, and complains that the husband can’t even appreciate her, because he is always talking about his wife. In the end, it isn’t entirely clear who this woman is, and the psychologist denies everything. It’s wonderfully daffy. 

 

Finally, the other contender for my favorite story in the book, “One for his Lordship, and One for the Road.” The old Irish lord has died, and left behind a huge and expensive wine collection, and no close heirs. 

 

Being an asshole, he directs in his will that he take his wine with him to the grave. His attorney starts pouring the wine into the grave, to the horror of the villagers. However, the local tavern keeper has a flash of brilliance, and the constable enforces the law. Since the will does not direct how the wine is to get into the grave, it is fine for the villagers to drink the wine, and, um, return it to the grave at a later time. 

 

I definitely enjoyed this collection, and it worked well for those quiet times on a trip after hiking but before sleep. 

 

***

 

Other posts about Ray Bradbury:

 

 Fahrenheit 451

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Zero Hour (Radio drama)

 

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Oceans of Grain: How American Wheat Remade the World by Scott Reynolds Nelson

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

This is kind of a random book that looked interesting to me. I needed an audiobook, and it happened to be available. 

 

Historian Scott Reynolds Nelson offers as his thesis in this book that the shift from Ukrainian wheat to American wheat to feed the cities of Europe was a central cause of the breakups of empires and eventually the first world war. 

 

But there sure is a lot more in this book than that. It is a history of the wheat trade from prehistoric times through the beginning of the 20th Century, and spans the entire globe. 

 

From the so-called “black paths” that connected the grainfields of the Steppes to ports such as Oddessa, to the conflict (and sometimes symbiosis) between slave-harvested cotton and free-soil wheat. The Black Death features prominently in this book in several different ways, and Potato Blight finds its chapter as well. 

 

While I think at times Nelson may stretch a bit to make everything about wheat, he is correct that everything is connected, and food is the most central issue when it comes to civilizations, empires, and trade. 

 

Since this was an audiobook, and I listen to those while driving, I didn’t get the chance to write down a bunch of quotes or otherwise take notes. I will be relying in this post on my own memory quite a bit - I hope I get the details correct. I will pretty much just mention things at random as recall them. 

 

To start with, I want to talk about Yersinia Pestis, aka the Black Death. This bacterium has its reservoir in the marmots of the steppes. We have marmots here too - I see them regularly hiking at high altitudes - but they don’t seem to have the same close connection to other rodents - and humans - that the Asian ones do. 

 

From time to time, the infected fleas would jump from the marmots to rats, and spread the disease among humans. Because, of course, rats follow the grain, fleas follow the rats, and humans are tasty. 

 

The fun thing about this is that Yersinia can be detected in the bones of people who died thousands of years ago. And the genome can be sequenced and traced to show where outbreaks occurred and how they spread geographically. 

 

Since most humans traveled only a few miles from their homes during the early days of agriculture, the tracks of Yersinia can show the routes of traders back then, and the far distances the plague spread at various times. 

 

These outbreaks were bad enough, but the ones in the Middle Ages seem to have been the worst. Probably due to growing urbanization combined with lack of knowledge about how it spread, it more than decimated Europe. 

 

One of the results of this was that grain production temporarily became more local, which led to (among other political results) the fall of the Byzantine Empire, which depended on revenue from grain going through Constantinople. 

 

Later, a different disruption - the increasingly low cost of ocean transport combined with cheap American wheat - would lead to the fall of a later empire - the Ottoman - and the Russian Revolution. 

 

Potato blight would likewise disrupt economies. Europe’s rural poor had switched to eating potatoes, with wheat largely going to urban elites. When the potato crop failed, the subsequent political failure led to mass famine. In the long term, this rearranged populations (millions emigrated to the United States), disrupted supply chains, and shifted the food balance further towards wheat. 

 

Central to this book are the writings and ideas of Israel Lazarevich Gelfand, better known by his pen name Parvus. Ever heard of him? 

 

He was the forgotten Marxist - we all know about Lenin and Trotsky, but Parvus was arguably every bit as important. His ideas on economics focused more on grain and less on capital, with the idea of imperialism taking the place of capitalism as the central enemy of the working poor. 

 

There are a few reasons he is less known today. In the Soviet Union, his contributions to the Revolution were erased after Lenin came to power - no sense in having competition. There were other complications, of course. Parvus was aligned with Maxim Gorky, who fell out of favor with Lenin. And Parvus was a German agent - although that is more complicated, since the Communist goal was not merely a Russian revolution, but one that would, they hoped, arise in Germany. But with World War One, this became awkward to say the least. 

 

Oh, and there is also the problem that Parvus was Jewish, which, despite Hitler’s conflation of Communists with Jews, led to Parvus experiencing plenty of antisemitism. Certainly Stalin’s later suppression of Parvus’ writings carried strong antisemitic overtones. 

 

The West, too, ignored Parvus. The usual obvious reasons apply to Nazi Germany: antisemitism and anticommunism. For other Western countries, his theories seemed to have all the objectionability of Marxism generally, but with more esoteric theoretical content. 

 

This is too bad, because I found the stuff mentioned in this book to be pretty fascinating, and indeed, perhaps Parvus was the more thoughtful and reality-based Marxist of his time. 

 

The author is a total nerd about this stuff, so the final chapter traces Parvus’ descendants. His son Yevgeny became a Soviet diplomat, was eventually arrested and sent to the gulags by Stalin, but somehow managed to survive to an old age and write about his experience. 

 

His other son, Lev, defected, changed his name to Leon Moore, and had a fascinating career as an adviser to the CIA. 

 

Yevgeny’s daughter Tatiana became a science fiction author, but apparently little was translated into English. The book refers to a particular work of hers which sounds fascinating - robot overlords are disarmed by feeding them poetry, which they can’t understand, and malfunction. One wonders if this will work with AI. Alas, my attempts to find this book were unsuccessful. It probably is long out of print. 

 

As I mentioned, this book is really detailed yet broad. Want to know how different forms of transport affected the grain market? You are covered. Want to hear about banking and finance? You bet you will. 

 

Did you know that both our current use of negotiable instruments (such as checks) and the use of the futures market to create predictable costs and limit risk first arose in the international grain markets? Those are both covered in this book. 

 

How was World War One strategy centered around grain transport? Or, for that matter, how did the different approaches to provisioning armies determine world history? Yes, that too is discussed. 

 

Overall, despite the detail, the book never really drags or gets bogged down. The writing is clear and effective, if not quite as fun as the very best non-fiction writers such as Simon Winchester. The level of detail makes the book thoroughly worth it. 

 

My one complaint is with the audiobook, which has a fairly flat reading. It’s fine, but not one of the better ones. It felt like the reader was just punching the clock, rather than actually interested in the topic. Fortunately, I found the book quite interesting. 

 

 

 


 




Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

Source of book: I own this

 

It has been quite a long time since I have read any Jane Austen. I kept intending to go back and read more, but time slipped away. 

 

Back in the day (before the blog), I read Pride and Prejudice and Emma. My birth family was very much into the delightful A&E series of P&P, with Colin Firth, Jennifer Ehle, and the rest, and spent the last of my years living at home breaking out quotes at opportune times. My wife likewise loves the series, so we have continued that tradition. 

 

I feel like I read Sense and Sensibility back then too, and I know I watched the Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman film. 

 

In any case, I decided to go with one of the other Austen books, outside of the big three. 


 

Northanger Abbey was, along with Persuasion, published after Austen’s death. However, it is believed to be the first novel she completed. 

 

This makes sense, as the book has a bit of a juvenile feel to it. While there are glimpses of the wit to come, and the book definitely has some great moments, it is uneven. The dialogue feels forced at times, the plot seems a bit thin, the central tension and misunderstanding a bit unconvincing. This is not to say it is a bad book. It isn’t. But it isn’t the masterpiece of Austen’s later writing. 

 

The idea behind the book is good, and is explored with humor. Young Catherine Morland, all of age seventeen, has spent her youth reading lurid gothic novels - particularly those by Ann Radcliffe - The Mysteries of Udolpho is mentioned multiple times. 

 

With these sensational and shocking plots in her head, Catherine is all too quick to imagine horrible things about the people she knows. Did he kill is wife? Is there a body or a lunatic in the attic? Has he seduced and abandoned a girl in the past? 

 

This collides, naturally, with real life, in hilarious and mortifying fashion. 

 

The book starts off with Catherine vacationing in Bath with her wealthy neighbors, the Allens. Although bored at first, before meeting two people. Isabella Thorpe becomes her friend - and interested in Catherine’s older brother John. She also meets Henry Tilney, a dashing young gentleman, who seems to return her interest. 

 

Will Catherine get Henry? Or will a combination of her low income, wild imagination, and naivety ruin her happiness? 

 

As I mentioned, there are early signs of the brilliant Austen wit in this book. I jotted down a bunch of quotes. Here are my favorites, starting with this exchange between Henry and Catherine at their first meeting.

 

“I have hitherto been very remiss, madam, in the proper attentions of a partner here; I have not asked you how long you have been in Bath, whether you were ever here before, whether you have been at the Upper Rooms, the theatre, and the concert, and how you like the place altogether. I have been very negligent; but are you now at leisure to satisfy me in this particulars? If you are, I will begin directly.”

“You need not give yourself that trouble, sir.”

“No trouble, I assure you, madam.” Then, forming his features into a set smile, and affectly softening his voice, he added, with a simpering air. “Have you been long in Bath, madam?”

“About a week, sir,” replied Catherine, trying not to laugh. 

 

The rapier-sharp observation is on display as well. 

 

Allen immediately recognized the features of a former schoolfellow and intimate, who she had seen only once since their respective marriages, and that many years ago. Their joy on this meeting was very great, as well as it might be, since they had been contented to know nothing of each other for the last fifteen years.

 

That’s definitely a classic Austen line. Here is another that I loved. A truly pithy observation, and one that has aged very well indeed. 

 

It would be mortifying to the feelings of many ladies could they be made to understand how little the heart of man is affected by what is costly or new in their attire; how little it is biased by the texture of their muslin, and how unsusceptible of peculiar tenderness towards the spotted, the sprigged, the mull, or the jackonet. Woman is fine for her own satisfaction alone. No man will admire here the more, no woman will like her the better for it. 

 

Another comment on gender relations in culture comes in a conversation about both marriage and dancing. 

 

“You will allow that in both man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal; that in both it is an engagement between man and woman, formed for the advantage of each; and that when once entered into, they belong exclusively to each other till the moment of its dissolution; that it is their duty each to endeavour to give no cause for wishing that he or she had bestowed themselves elsewhere, and their best interest to keep their own imaginations from wandering towards the perfections of their neighbors, or fancying that they should have been better off with anyone else.” 

 

Later there is another pithy observation. 

 

“No man is offended by another man’s admiration of the woman he loves; it is the woman only who can make it a torment.”

 

Isabella Thorpe’s brother is interested in Catherine, but he is such a boor that she finds him beyond tedious. In the world of Austen, the highest form of revenge is a cutting comment.

 

“Thank ye,” cried Thorpe; “but I did not come to Bath to drive my sisters about and look like a fool. No, if you do not go, d--- me if I do. I only go for the sake of driving you.”

“That is a compliment which gives me no pleasure.” 

 

On another occasion, when Isabella confides that Thorpe is interested in Catherine, she responds with this:

 

“I would not speak disrespectfully of a brother of yours, Isabella, I am sure, but you know very well that if I could think of one man more than another, he is not the person.” 

 

On the other hand, the repartee between Catherine and Henry Tilney is all about a different kind of barb. In this example, the subject of lurid novels comes up. 

 

“I am very glad to hear it; indeed; and now I shall never be ashamed of liking Udolpho myself. But I really thought before, young men despised novels amazingly.”

“It is amazingly; it may well suggest amazement if they do, for they read nearly as many as women.” 

 

And later in the conversation:

 

“That is, I can read poetry and plays, and things of that sort, and do not dislike travels. But history, real solemn history, I cannot be interested in. Can you?”

“Yes, I am fond of history.”

“I wish I were too. I read it a little as a duty; but it tells me nothing that does not either vex or weary me. The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars and pestilences in every page; the men are all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all, it is very tiresome; and yet I often think it odd that it should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention. The speeches that are put into the heroes’ mouths, their thoughts and designs; the chief of all this must be invention, and invention is what delights me in other books.”

 

That’s gold right there. 

 

It isn’t that often that I have to actually look up a word. I did in this one, however. “Se’nnight” is a new one for me. It isn’t as common as “fortnight” - aka fourteen nights, aka two weeks. Se’nnight is seven nights, or a week. 

 

The book takes an interesting turn about halfway through, when the scene changes for the parties and dances of Bath to the gloomy and atmospheric mansion of the Tilney family: Northanger Abbey. There, Catherine’s love for novels turns against her. Henry teases her, perhaps not knowing how close to the bone he is. 

 

“Will not your mind misgive you, when you find yourself in this gloomy chamber, too lofty and extensive for you, with only the feeble rays of a single lamp to take in its size, its walls hung with tapestry exhibiting figures as large as life, and the bed of dark green stuff or purple velvet, presenting even a funereal appearance. Will not your heart sink within you?”

 

He goes on a bit, until finally she protests. 

 

“Oh! Mr. Tilney, how frightful! This is just like a book! But it cannot really happen to me.” 

 

But of course it does. Catherine imagines a whole backstory wherein Henry’s father killed his mother and is haunted by it ever after. Finally, Henry realizes what her imagination has wrought, and she is mortified. 

 

“If I understand your rightly, you had formed a surmise of such horror as I have hardly words to - Dear Miss Moreland, consider the dreadful nature of the suspicious you have entertained.”

 

He reminds her that the reality of 19th Century England is hardly that of novels, with lurid secrets lurking in every attic. Poor Catherine, her fantasies die hard. 

 

Charming as were all Mrs. Radcliffe’s works, and charming even as were the works of all her imitators, it was not in them perhaps that human nature, at least in the midland counties of England was to be looked for. Of the Alps and Pyrenees, with their pine forests and their vices, they might give a faithful delineation; and Italy, Switzerland, and the South of France, might be as fruitful in horrors as they were there represented. Catherine dared not doubt beyond her own country, and even of that, if hard pressed, would have yielded the northern and western extremities. 

 

The book does have one of the finest ending lines of any book. 

 

To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself, moreover, convinced that the General’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny or reward filial disobedience.

 

Northanger Abbey was a pleasure to read. It may not be up there with Austen’s best, but it has some good moments for sure. 

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Cataract House by Kamala Boeck and Ayrian Gridiron (Empty Space 2025)

Last night, my wife and I had the opportunity to sit in on the first “tech week” rehearsal for the upcoming weekend performances of Cataract House at The Empty Space. This happened in large part because I will be out of town for the entire weekend run, and really did not want to miss this. Fortunately, I know some people, and Jesus Fidel (Costumes) and Perrin Swanson (Assistant Director, Light Design) invited us to watch a rehearsal. 

 

As a performing musician, I know how rehearsals go - there are always things to work on: it’s like making sausage. Except that actually, it was really fun to see. Most of the scenes went well, and the few hiccups should be ironed out over the remaining rehearsals. It’s going to be a great show. 

 

Cataract House is an all-local production. The book and lyrics were written by Kamala Boeck, who is part of the theater faculty at CSUB. She already has several plays to her credit, as well as experience in pretty much every facet of theater. 

 

The music was primarily written by Ayrian Gridiron, with contributions from Criston Moore and Gregory Carr. In contrast to TES’ usual practice of using pre-recorded music, this one was a combination of pre-recorded and sequenced backing tracks, and live on-stage contributions by Timothy Moore (percussion) and George Molden (keys). That was definitely a nice touch, and made for great musical transitions between scenes. 

 

The story of Cataract House comes from a real place in Niagara Falls, the Cataract House hotel. Renowned as a fine upscale establishment, it drew visitors from around the United States - including wealthy enslavers from the South. 

 

What was less known…until later, was that the African American staff of Cataract House were a part of the Underground Railroad, helping the enslaved escape to freedom in Canada. Led by head waiter John Morrison, the staff was instrumental in the self-liberation of many enslaved persons in the decades before emancipation. 

 

The musical is a fictionalized account of the Cataract House story. While characters are drawn from their real life counterparts, and many of the incidents occurred in real life, the specifics of the plot and the details of the characters are fictional, inspired by the true stories. 

 

The story of Cataract House - both the real life events and the musical - is definitely not a “white savior” story. While there are admirable white characters, the real drama, the focus of the story, is in the heroic actions of the African American characters, freeing themselves and helping others do so. 

 

The two central stories involve two different pairs in search of freedom. We first meet “Samuel Bonds,” a young man, and nephew to Morrison, who has just made it north on the Railroad. He is put to work as a waiter at Cataract House with his new name and forged freedom papers. 

 

Samuel struggles with ambivalence at his new life. After all, he is still waiting on white people who call him “boy” - is this true freedom? 

 

He meets a young woman, Nancy, who is enslaved by a wealthy Southern woman who has just married a leather tycoon. Nancy, beset by unwanted sexual advances from Mr. Cox, and blamed for them by Mrs. Cox, decides to attempt an escape to freedom. Along the way, Nancy and Samuel fall in love. 

 

The other pair is the cook, Albert, who has been waiting for a long time for his enslaved wife, Martha, to finally make it north to join him. Martha is pursued by her enslaver (and general creep) Mr. Blackwell. 

 

A side drama in the musical is the conflict between Mr. Cox and the progressive Ruth Howland, a feminist (and probably an abolitionist as well) artist, who finds the arrogance and racism of Cox and Blackwell to be disgusting. 

 

Presiding over all of this is the owner of the hotel, Solon Whitney, who in real life probably did look the other way as his staff emancipated the enslaved. He, like his staff, has to “play both sides” - to play the part in public to make the wealthy white people feel pampered. 

 

This is a musical, and that means songs. The style is soul and gospel, the music is catchy, and the lyrics are excellent. 

 

The cast is an interesting mix of stage veterans and first time performers. This was, I have no doubt, a bit of a challenge to put together. Acting, particularly in small local theaters, involves a lot more than just getting up on stage and doing your thing. Everyone has to be responsible for costumes, props, scene changes, and so on. 

 

That said, I was impressed by how prepared all the parts were, and how few issues arose - this was literally the first time through with all the lights and other tech stuff. 

 

For those who are local theater regulars, I’ll note the familiar names: Karin Harmon (Ruth), Mendy McMasters (Mary), Steve Evans (Solon), Don Kruszka (Blackwell), and Rikk Cheshire (Cox) - all of them familiar names. 

 

Also great to see on the Empty Space stage (I think I’ve only seen them at other local theaters) in lead roles are Liz B. Williams (Martha) and Avery Gibson (Nancy). 

 

I should give a special mention to Avery Gibson for directing as well as playing a lead. And note her past performances in Memphis at Stars, and Antigone at CSUB. She was a stone cold badass as Antigone, one of my favorite plays, and I am happy to see her on stage in any role. 

 

Opposite her was a newcomer to Bakersfield, Mathew Caleb Brown as Samuel. He looked and sounded great throughout. I hope to see more of him in the future. 

 

I’ll also make particular mention of Tyler Vernon as John Morrison. I believe I last saw him at Ovation in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, which is way too long of a gap. He has great stage charisma and expressiveness.

 

There are too many others to mention individually, but overall, a good ensemble. 

 

Two particular moments stood out to me as powerful. First is the song “Play Both Sides,” which is a fascinating portrayal of code switching. While I think all of us have to do this in some aspect of our lives, whether getting along at work, or dealing with difficult family, this is a constant reality that any minority group faces. Particularly African Americans in our racist society.

 

The second was the scene where Mary tries to claim that she has always loved Nancy. And Nancy replies, “You never loved me. You owned me.” This is a direct rebuke to the delusional white people who look back with nostalgia on past eras thinking that race relations were better back then. (Looking at you, Doug Wilson, and you, Phil Robertson…and so many others.) No, things weren’t better. It was just more dangerous for the enslaved and marginalized to stand up for themselves.

 

Finally, I want to commend our local theaters for taking on some more risky plays and musicals over the last several years. While the old warhorses fill the seats and keep the lights on, stretching audiences a bit is a good thing. These other stories need to be told. New voices need to be heard. In Cataract House, the Empty Space is telling an important story, and bringing new talent to the stage. 

 

Cataract House is a good story, and well told on the small stage at Empty Space. It runs Thursday through Sunday this weekend only - perfect for a celebration of Juneteenth. I highly encourage local theater lovers to come out in force and enjoy this inspiring story of love, hope, and solidarity. 

 

To learn more about the musical, explore the website. Tickets are available online and, if it doesn’t sell out, at the door. 

 

(Sorry I don't have cast pictures - those haven't come out yet. For now, enjoy this picture of the foyer exhibit of travel brochures for the real Cataract House, and other fascinating materials.)