30 Day Book Challenge: Day 26

Day 26: Favorite Non-Fiction Book



Technically, non-fiction



I hate "non-fiction" as a category.  Are we really to assume that The Oxford English Dictionary and Penis Pokey belong in the same category?  And for that matter, isn't The Feminine Mystique non-fiction too? It's stupid.  (I hope Gianna didn't pick Penis Pokey.  I haven't looked at her choice yet.  I'm safe, right?....I should be safe, but she does love to be inappropriate.  Do you all understand how difficult it is to put together this little blog?)

Gianna:

This should come as no surprise but I am going to sort of cheat. Some of these questions if answered truthfully...well, you would repeat books and what fun is that? So in an effort not to repeat books, and also in order to talk about books that maybe don’t get talked about enough in my opinion, I am going to pick a really controversial book as my favorite non fiction book. [Crap.  It's Penis Pokey, isn't it?  And not Gianna is going to give me hell.] Let me say however this book is absolutely one of my favorite books.

The Kiss by Kathryn Harrison. Oh, how this book surprised me. I was working as a receiver at a bookstore when this book came in and I read the jacket copy, and you know, I am not made of stone…adult daughter has affair with father? Sold. I am going to read that book. Congratulations, you found your audience. But nothing could really have prepared me for that book. It is completely heartbreaking and it drains you. It is one of those books you don’t forget, and not because of the subject. Harrison is such a beautiful writer (if you haven’t read anything by her please pick this up, or Seal Wife or Exposure); this book very easily could have been a disaster. It is not. It is beautiful and terrible and hopeful.

I am surprised more people have not read this memoir. Random House just published a new addition so I hope to see it in more bookstores. Gail Caldwell wrote a really great review of The Kiss, and here is a small piece from it:

Harrison had the good sense to write The Kiss with the most bare-bones approach imaginable, letting the awful force of her story dictate its lean style. Devoid of prurient detail, it is a spare, painful book that saves its most dramatic words for the day she capitulates to her father's need, when ``God's heart bursts, it breaks. For me it does.'' How do you ever come back from a moment like that?

One more thing about Kathryn Harrison…balls o' steel. She was vilified in many places for writing this book, which as you can imagine pisses me off.

Liz:

Penis Pokey.

Just kidding.

I listed a bunch of my favorite history books on the day we talked about books that turn us on, but in an effort to avoid repeats I'm going to pick another work of narrative history that's on par with those other favorites.  I don't know if this book officially is my favorite non-fiction title; I don't know that I have a favorite.  However, The River of Doubt by Candice Millard is pretty darn wonderful.

Millard tells the story of Theodore Roosevelt, former President who had lost his bid to return to the White House, and decides to engage his mid-to-late life crisis by traveling to the Amazon.  Teddy Roosevelt, jungle explorer.  TR puts together an expedition including his son Kermit and Brazil's most famous explorer of the time and they set off into the middle of the rain forest to chart the course of a previously unmapped river.  Roosevelt's hubris almost kills him, and the doomed expedition encounters piranhas, rapids, indigenous peoples, and any number of perils.  The River of Doubt rivals Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air as one of the greatest adventure books ever written, but what makes Millard's book special is that she creates such intensity and life for her story without the benefit of first hand experience.  She's a terrific storyteller and she brings to life a mostly forgotten period for one of this nation's favorite subjects.

30 Day Book Challenge: Day 4

Grab your hankies, it's time for...

Day 4: A Book That Makes You Cry

Gianna weeps at the drop of a hat.  I, on the other hand, subscribe to the Hank Hill method of emotional bottling--swallow it down until there's an ache in your stomach.  This makes me a better person; I'm sure of it.

Gianna

Let's Take the Long Way Home (Gail Caldwell)

I think even if I hadn't had a close friend who was dying when this book came to me, it still would have meant the world to me. I don't know, maybe not. What is important, I guess, is that we found each other and it's a bible of sorts. It is a comfort now that my friend is gone. Anyway - I think of the book often and am grateful for it.

Liz

Push by Sapphire

There are two books that I can think of that made me cry, and this is one of them.  Maybe I just had gas that day.  Anyway, this novel upon which the movie Precious is based is a harrowing read, one in which you wonder what more can happen to a girl who's been disappointed and hurt at every turn in her life...only to be smacked with something else.  Nonetheless, the story of Precious is still one that offers glimpses of hope and courage in the face of the harshest adversity, and it's one that champions the power of literature and writing to make bearable the horrors of life.  It's a book that's hard to recommend as a pleasurable reading experience, but at the same time remains a necessary and valued part of the literary landscape.

Gianna's Top Ten of Oh-Ten

I love lists, I do. I love them….reading them. I hate writing lists. I think making a best of lists is the hardest thing that Liz makes me do, she is the cruelest person I know. Anyway here it is: My Top 10 Random House Books of 2010 (just to be clear, this list is derived from the books I have sold this year, so no you won’t see Aimee Bender).  [The top picks from my side, including Aimee Bender, will appear in the near future--liz.]


The awesome and sassy Gail Caldwell



Let’s Take the Long Way Home by Gail Caldwell. This goes on top because it truly has meant the most to me and I already know that it will forever be a book that I recommend. The writing is flawless, just absolutely stunning. A beautiful memoir about Caldwell’s friendship with fellow writer Caroline Knapp (Drinking: A Love Story)--you won’t be able to read the first line of this memoir and walk away. “It’s an old old story: I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that too.” I know, right? I asked Gail about that first line while we were walking to the signing tent at the Texas Book Festival. She stopped in her tracks and smiled – she said that she actually wrote that sentence years ago and put it away. I expect that maybe the book came to her in that way – in pieces as she was meditating on her loss. Grief can be that way, piece by piece. You should know that the page ends with the sentence, “Grief is what tells you who you are alone.” Sentence after sentence takes your breath away, it is that good. This book of course is many things to many people, but for me it is pure love story.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. This book makes the list because … well because this single book has changed the world a bit. How? The head of the Office of Human Research at NIH asked for an early copy of HeLa in order to reevaluate NIH policies on human research. Also the U.S. Department of Defense has changed their requirements for funding research on cell cultures to protect the identity of cell donors. After the release of the book three of the four tissue rights cases Rebecca writes about in the afterword were settled; all in favor of the patient. These cases had been pending for years. Finally, the Henrietta Lacks Foundation set up by Rebecca just awarded its first scholarships to descendants of Henrietta Lacks. Rebecca Skloot spent over a decade researching, writing and gaining the trust and support of the Lacks family (no small task and understandably so), a decade of believing that Henrietta Lacks deserved acknowledgement for her amazing gift to science. What would you spend an entire decade of your life doing? I want to end this by saying very clearly that I am not a science person, never have been. In fact when I was in my 8th grade science lab I accidentally dropped a thermometer on the floor (I am old so we are talking glass and mercury). And my teacher who had a pretty good grasp on my science ability screamed from across the room, “Don’t eat it!” Now, let me say I had no intention of eating it because you know, its glass AND mercury. Anyway needless to say I am a bit surprised at the passion I have for this book and this story and of course my respect for Rebecca Skloot is just immense.

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell. There are novels that are good, and you finish and life is great and all that. Then there are novels, sweeping novels that transplant you to another time and place. It’s rare because it’s a task for a true master. Enter David Mitchell. I hate calling this historical fiction but that is exactly what it is, but of the highest caliber. Mitchell in his most assessable work brings you to a small Dutch outpost in a mostly isolated Japan at the turn of the century. Mitchell is spot on all through this novel…wait, I almost called it a romantic novel…but you know what ….if it’s David Mitchell its okay to say that…and it’s true.

Welcome To Utopia by Karen Valby. Every single time I talk about this book I get a bit emotional. I just have such affection for the people of Utopia who Karen writes about with such care and skill. It is hard to talk about just one family in this book but Kathy Wiekamp is, for me, the hero. Kathy watched 3 of her 4 boys join the military and ship off to war. One son is killed and when his body returns home, every soul of Utopia lined the street to welcome home their boy. Kathy mourns her son and it is palpable. She creates a shrine of sorts in her home and of course continues to grieve but she has other boys in the military and one at home; she too must soldier on. When I think about the war now, when I think about the human cost, or of bravery, or even of the history of the Texan woman, my thoughts go back to Kathy Wiekamp who has forever changed me.

This Time Together by Carol Burnett. If you don’t like Carol Burnett you and I have nothing to talk about. And not to sound like an old person but…they just don’t make them like her anymore. These are little snippets from her life, some pretty poignant, most just hilarious. My favorites are stories about her grandmother, a total nut.

The Things That Keep Us Here by Carla Buckley. This novel gets my vote for just plain fun. But not weeeeeeeeeeeeeee fun…sort of creepy fun. But not creepy creepy fun….you know pandemic fun. Which would be totally fun if Buckley didn’t sort of convince you that it was actually going to happen….soon…which you know…not fun at all. Isn’t the bird flu back in the news? See?



Isabel Wilkerson at Tx Book Fest...
not expecting a picture, obviously.

 The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson. This is the full history of the decades-long migration of African Americans from southern states to northern and western cities in search of a better life. The migration totaled over six million people but Wilkerson manages to write about this exodus in prose that is incredibly intimate – focusing on a few families with an excellent eye for detail.

The Irresistible Henry House by Lisa Grunwald. Henry House is born into a world as a 1940s practice baby – a real baby that a college uses for its home economic courses. Crazy right? What if I told you that some schools actually did use real babies until they were adopted after their first birthday? Even crazier, I know, but true. Henry learns very quickly to please several different women at once…which of course makes him unable to commit to just one woman as he grows up….He doesn’t really do it on purpose; he hates it in fact. Grunwald has written a truly original sweeping novel (it spans several decades) of a man on a quest to love just one woman and to reconcile his relationships with the woman who raised him.

Blind Descent by James M. Tabor. I love a good non-fiction adventure story. Problem is they are far and few between. I am a huge fan of Into Thin Air and I can definitively say that this book is for those fans – but instead of going up…Tabor takes the reader in the other direction…way way in the other direction. It is tempting to see caving as a mere hobby but the fact is these men and women who risk life and limb to descend into the unknown are explorers and more often than not, scientists. How dangerous is caving? Well I counted over 50 ways to die in a cave(like a zillion ways to fall to your death in a cave by the way), let me just highlight a few of my “favorites:” Acetylene explosion (or camp stove explosion would stink too), tunnel collapse, unplanned detachment from rebelay (uh…you fall), strangulation in vertical gear (horrible), animals eat the rope (sucks!), asphyxiation by methane or carbon dioxide, stuck in crevice (no thanks James Franco), panicked buddy (also known as an ex-friend), drowning, electrocution, poisonous snakes and insects ( no thanks!) and of course just plain old panic (this is what would get me..actually someone [Liz] would just throw my panicking ass over the edge). Anyway….hobbie? No, don’t think so.

If I Loved You I Would Tell You This by Robin Black. This is the best collection of stories that I read this year. Not a light read--the stories are about death, betrayal, dying, or illness. My favorite story is called “The Guide;” a blind daughter prepares to leave her parents and go to college, your heart breaks a little bit for her father who has made his life’s purpose to be his daughter’s eyes. The title story is about neighbors in the midst of what seems to be a trivial argument over a fence and the property line – but the reality of it is quite different. I highly recommend this for Munro, Gaitskill, and even Strout fans.

The Long Way Home

From Gianna:

It is a question booksellers and book lovers ask each other often, “What book has changed your life?” The answer, of course, changes with age, with what we’ve read, and with life experience. Occasionally, or maybe not even that often, there is a book that you want to push from your mind and can’t seem to move from your nightstand at the same time. For me that book has been Gail Caldwell’s Let’s Take the Long Way Home. It is subtitled “A Memoir of Friendship” which is pretty innocuous at first glance. A memoir of friendship to be sure, but the level of this friendship is spiritual and as committed as the best of marriages. It is the gorgeous story of Gail’s friendship with fellow writer Caroline Knapp (author of the two classics: Drinking A Love Story and Pack of Two ). The book begins with these lines: “It’s an old , old story: I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that , too.” As women we are bombarded with false reports and bullshit polls that women don’t get along, and of course the media loves to portray us with our “claws” out – after each others' men or jobs...or are we simply jealous of each others' boobs? It is such a lie, such a crappy lie, but worrisome that some of us are buying into it. Women do have lifelong, meaningful, important friendships; we always have. Gail and Carol’s story is just one of many, as is mine.

I’ve lived with this book for the better part of two years now; I can not shake it, but it has weighed most heavily on my mind this past month.

I have a very close friend; she in fact was my first girlfriend. I was 18 years old when I met her; she told me I wasn’t funny and of course…I was smitten. About four years ago she was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. And as that diagnosis does – it takes your breath away – but we live in a time where this is often called a manageable disease. And it is.  It’s not fun, but it is a constant battle. And then like metastasized breast cancer does…that little fucker spreads. Sometimes to the liver, lungs, bones, or the brain among a zillion other nooks and crannies, and for us we got bones. My friend took it in stride, fought on, chemo and radiation ,and just carried on. Recently tumors were found in her brain. So then came radiation on her entire brain, and more chemo of course. Things looked good, the doctors were still talking managed care, so we started planning a road trip from her home in Florida to Las Vegas, stopping here in Austin for a few days to rest. My friend has a small gambling issue – she won’t admit it – but, you know, it’s all she loves to do anymore.  She’s no good at it and I’ve never actually known her to win…but that’s another story. Anyway, we began planning. Then, just a few weeks ago, her Johnny-on-the-spot doctor didn’t like the way she was walking, ordered a CAT scan, and there you have it …more tumors.

I flew out again as soon as I could – our mutual best friend had to leave for a work trip so I would be in charge of caring for her. My friend is a lot to be in charge of without cancer by the way – she is a bit of trouble; add cancer to the mix and I had my hands full. We had scheduled an MRI and I have never been as nervous sitting in that doctor's office with her and our mutual friend (who had come back from her business trip) waiting for the results. We were positive, however; we thought from the CAT scan that we were dealing with one very treatable tumor. Turns out, CAT scans are so inferior to MRI’s that it shocked us when the sheer number of actual brain tumors was revealed. Numerous very small tumors all over her brain, and a few larger (but still small) tumors were also in the mix and these would be our focus. So we march on.

Today my friend is headed in for her fourth day in a row of Gamma Knife radiation – it's what it sounds like, extremely precise – you have a mask made of your face and are pinned down while you get zapped. I was with her when her mask was made and I at that moment thought How does she doe this – day in – day out? How? Anyway, so day four is today and she is in Florida and I am back in Texas and all I can think about every moment is how to get back to Florida – to get back to being useful. I miss making her meals (I am a terrible cook but she’s kind about it), bitching at her to drink more water, reminding her to take her pills (okay so once I forgot to remind her and claimed I did tell her but her chemo brain made her forget – not proud but it’s the truth), and it turns out….she thinks I am pretty funny.  So I miss not only making her laugh, because I can do that on the phone, but making her laugh in person because sometimes she comes really close to peeing her pants and that stuff is best in person.

So this is friendship, the entire thing. It’s about how we spend our time, and I am sorry for being corny but it is about taking the long way home.