The Travel Bug

Even though I've been there, Elif Shafak's The Bastard of Istanbul is making me want to pack my bags...

And then you read something...

Happy 2010, everyone. Apologies for the long lag since my last post. I was in a bit of a predicament: I wanted to post, but I was in a reading rut.

First, I went through a series of books that were mind-blowingly inane.

Then, I started 2666, which was fantastic, but I just couldn't finish it. It's a massive tome, and with all of the life changes, I couldn't devote enough time to the novel to truly do it justice.

And then, just when I was giving up hope, a friend lent me Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Have you ever read something that's so incredibly beautiful that it feels like every line is piercing your heart? That you're going to explode from the sheer beauty of the prose? It's been years since I've read something that's moved me so deeply... but it's nearly impossible to excerpt here. There's no one line, no one passage, that jumps out at me: nearly every page had me laughing and thinking. So, with that caveat, here is a sample of how absurdly talented Jonathan Safran Foer is. (By way of explanation, the novel is narrated from the perspective of a nine year old boy.)

"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet."

And that's just the first page.

Of course, now I find myself in a new predicament: how am I going to read anything in 2010 that tops this novel?

Stream of Life

Stream of Life

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day

runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth

in numberless blades of grass

and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth

and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.

And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

What I'm Thankful For This Year

On Friendship

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

On Joy and Sorrow

On Joy and Sorrow

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Happiness is Tolerance?

I've been thinking about tolerance lately. I attended a thought-provoking lecture by Dr. Ken Jackson this weekend, in which he discussed the virtues of New York City. Jackson posited that New York was unique amongst international cities because it has such a multi-cultural, tolerant population.

I disagreed with a number of Dr. Jackson's arguments, but the lecture got me thinking about "Geography of Bliss" by Eric Weiner. In short: it's an NPR journalist's exploration of the research done by Dr. Ruut Veenhoven, who researches the happiest places in the world.

Weiner travels from country to country, trying to figure out why people are happy. The first chapter is about the Netherlands, which ranks as one of the happiest countries in the world. Here is Weiner's take on why the Dutch are so happy:

"Tolerance! This is the original "don't tread on me" nation... The Dutch will tolerate anything, even intolerance. In the past few decades they have welcomed, with open arms, immigrants from around the world, including those from nations that don't tolerate things like religious freedom and women who work or drive or show their faces. Dutch tolerance comes at a cost, as the murder of the filmmaker Theo van Gogh by a Muslim extremist highlighted. But Veenhoven's research shoes that tolerant people tend to be happy."

The Reader

Much love goes to Alka, for letting me borrow her copy of "The Reader." While I had ambivalent feelings about the book, a few passages have really struck me. In the interest of not accidentally spoiling the novel, I'm grey-ing out the text below.

"In these years I had read everything I could lay my hands on to do with illiteracy. I knew about the helplessness in everyday activities, finding one's way or finding an address or choosing a meal in a restaurant, about how illiterates anxiously stick to prescribed patterns and familiar routines, about how much energy it takes to conceal one's inability to read and write, energy lost to actual living. Illiteracy is dependence. By finding the courage to learn to read and write, Hanna had advanced from dependence to independence, a step towards liberation."

Addendum: For those interested, here's a great Q&A with Susan A. McLean, the executive director of Literacy Partners.