2023 Reading List

The year begins in Panama, which influences the reading selections. Also I have set a goal for myself: I want to read at least one book each week in 2023. #goals 

Anderson, C. L. G. "The Darien Colony: Chapter XXIV." Old Panama and Castillo Del Oro. The Sudworth Company, 1911. 

• I found this old book in the public library in Boquete, Panama. The hard cover was in disrepair but as a source for early Panamanian history, it has a lot to offer. Although I flipped through a few chapters, the only one I read in its entirety was about Scotland's attempt at colonizing Panama in the 17th century. The Scots failed spectacularly but today there are traces of their presence in place names such as Caledonia Bay. 

Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. Simon & Schuster, 2013 reprint.

• The last two books I've read (Orlean and Perry, below) have both referenced Bradbury's classic 1950's novel about book burning in an undetermined American future. And since I couldn't remember if I had read this before in college (turns out, I hadn't) this seemed like an opportunity to align the stars. It's a short novel, full of cynicism and dark imaginings. For that, I hated reading it. But the fact that several U.S. states have recently placed it on a list of banned books (coupled with a personal lifetime character trait that enjoys defying authority) means this book is a 2023 must-read. So here it is. In the final moments of the story, one of the characters warns us: "Some day the load we're carrying with us may help someone. But even when we had the books on hand, a long time ago, we didn't use what we got out of them. We went right on insulting the dead. We went right on spitting in graves of all the poor ones who died before us" (156 - 57). Reading Bradbury is an act of remembering, an act of honoring the dead, readers and writers alike.

Foer, Joshua. Moonwalking with Einstein: The Art and Science of Remembering Everything. Penguin Press, 2011.

• Apparently there is a subculture of geeks who work very hard to remember everything. Foer does a nice job introducing the reader to this subculture, only to find himself immersed in it. I have been interested in the idea of memory for a long time, so much so that I've written blog posts about it. So when Foer rhetorically asks "Socrates thought the unexamined life was not worth living. How much more so the unremembered life?" I knew this was the book for me! It reads fast, and the intersectionality of book culture, medieval philosophies, mental athletes and memorizing techniques makes this one fun and entertaining. 

Gappah, Petina. Out of Darkness, Shining Light: A Novel. Scribner, 2019.

• This is a fast and engaging read. Gappah has taken the true story of David Livingstone's death in Africa and fictionalized some of the events surrounding the removal of his body to England by the men and women who accompanied him in the search for the source of the Nile River. It is a unique perspective, inviting the reader to gaze upon the white body of the missionary-explorer from the viewpoint of one man, Jacob Wainwright, and one woman, Halima; both Africans. Towards the end of the novel, Halima reminisces on the impact of the journey in a pensive passage: "I understand now what it means when the urge to travel bites you like a mosquito that gives you a fever that means your feet are never still and your mind is always wandering." As a reader and a lover of travel myself, I completely concur. And now I have set my sights on traveling to the David Livingstone Museum in Zambia. Watch this space!

Gopnik, Adam. Paris to the Moon. Random House, 2000.

• This is a sweet memoir about Gopnik's stint living in Paris in the late 1990s. It's funny, whimsical and introspective. Gopnik offers the reader glimpses of French culture with humor, yet one can't help but feel the depth of his experience from passages like this: "The hardest thing to convey is how lovely it all is and how that loveliness seems all you need. The ghosts that haunted you in New or Pittsburgh will haunt you anywhere you go, because they're your ghosts and the house they haunt is you." In which case, why not be haunted by Paris?

Gregory, Philippa. A Respectable Trade. Atria Books, 2007. 

• If the reviews are to be believed, other people have enjoyed this book immensely. But I found the characters implausible and the narrative arc totally predictable. Bought from a used bookstore in Boquete, Panama, I was thirsty to read something in English. When I finished it while on layover at the airport in Miami, I left it under the seat in the terminal. Someone else will probably relish it more than I.

Harris, Jessica B. High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America. Bloomsbury, 2011. 

• 
  Whatever you do, don't read this book when you're hungry. Harris does a great job identifying the cultural pathways of Black Americans and infamous culinary delights such as collard greens, sweet potato pie and pigs' feet. Along the way, she provides historical context to food in relation to the slave trade, recipes from Africa, Brazil and the US, as well as some of her own personal experiences on the journey to researching the text. This is a great resource, and one best read after a meal. 

Ishiguro, Kazuo. When We Were Orphans: A Novel. Vintage Books, 2000.

• This one's a sleeper! Ishiguro creates an illusion in this slowly unfolding mystery. It begins in the grandeur of British drawing rooms filled with dazzling jewels and substantial meals. The reader is lulled into comfort. But slowly, in increments portioned out by the protagonist's memories, the story shifts to war torn Shanghai in the 1930s. There is no comfort or grandeur to be found, only a sense of loss as the reader realizes (along with the protagonist) the truth of the mystery. The denouement is as surprising as the narrative arc is unique. In short, Ishiguro is a masterful storyteller. 

Levy, David W. Mark Twain: The Divided Mind of America's Best-Loved Writer. Pearson, 2011.

• Although I'm not certain he was America's "best-loved" writer, Mark Twain certainly held the American readers' attention for several decades in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He is a story teller, to be sure. But the events of his life are somewhat epic in themselves, and likely informed some of his later flair for drama. If you are looking for an interesting biography, this is a good place to start.

Matthiessen, Peter. The Snow Leopard. Penguin Books, 1978.

• Several years ago I read a book by Peter Matthiessen which was so engaging that I ended up writing a review about it. Little did I know then that he is an amazing author with an interesting life story. In this one, Matthiessen writes of his journey (both spiritual and physical) in the Himalayas. At first the reader does not realize that the detours into Buddhist and Hindu theology are relevant to the story. But slowly, as though plodding along high mountain trails in search of a near mythical creature, the narrative arc reveals that not only is this a spiritual journey, but that the physical trials and tribulations Matthiessen encounters on the path are mere symbols of his progress toward Enlightenment. I enjoyed this book. Oh, and he never saw the snow leopard, which I took to be analogous to Enlightenment, but he did manage to see its tracks once or twice. Maybe that's what the spiritual path is all about: seeing the evidence of the divine but only after it has passed by.

McCullough, David. The Path Between the Seas: The Creation of the Panama Canal, 1870-1914. Touchstone Book, 1977.

• After hearing about this book while on a boat tour of Lake Gatun, I searched in a couple bookstores in Panama City for a copy in English without luck. But then, upon arriving in Boquete, lo and behold! There is was on the shelf in our Airbnb. It's a good read. The edition I worked my way through is a limited edition printing signed by the author, and appears to have been distributed to passengers on a cruise commemorating the completion of the Panama Canal. Good book, but there may be a newer edition out there. Also, as a final note: it is likely that between 4,000 - 25,000 Black men from Jamaica, Barbados and Martinique died while working to complete the railroad and canal in Panama. They are anonymous to us now, but someone once knew and loved them. 

Orlean, Susan. The Library Book. Simon & Schuster, 2018.

• This is a good book. It's a true story of the Los Angeles Public Library, which tragically burned in 1986, destroying or damaging nearly one million books and other library holdings. The events are well researched and Orlean balances history with a few personal anecdotes and experiences to lighten the heaviness of the topic. Overall, she is a good storyteller. One of the strands of storytelling Orlean develops is the idea of the book (as well as the importance of the library building which holds the book) in society. What a book is, both to the reader and to the writer: "Writing a book, just like building a library, is an act of sheer defiance. It is a declaration that you believe in the persistence of memory" (93). This notion that books hold memory is enduringly interesting, and worthy of much consideration. That Orlean approaches it here makes this book a solid and enjoyable read.

Perry, Imani. South to America: A Journey Below the Mason-Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation. HarperCollins, 2022.

• Perry uses the travel narrative format to investigate some of the cities of the South in the 21st century. This book is part personal exploration, part historical interrogation. It gathers itself to contend with racism, white supremacy, Black resilience and the place of the South in U.S. history. Perry is a terrific travel companion; she contextualizes people, places and events in an easy manner, while elevating Black voices with dignity. One of the things I really like about this book is the way Perry bounces the ideas from other texts and other writers with her own experiences, extending the discussions previously laid out as though all of us (Perry, the other writers, and the reader) are sitting at a coffee shop having a conversation. For example, Perry asserts that "[c]ritical theorist Walter Benjamin once distinguished between two types of storytellers: one is a keeper of the traditions; another is the one who has journeyed afar and tells stories of other places. But there is a third" claims Perry, "and that is the exile. The exile, with a gaze that is obscured by distance and time, may not always be precise in terms of information. Details get outdates. But if the exile can tell a story that gets to a fundamental truth and also tell you something about two core human feelings, loneliness and homesickness, ... then they have acquired an essential wisdom, earning them the title of storyteller" (133). It is this kind of insight - one could say, wisdom - that makes the reader willing to be exiled if that's what is required to obtain it. Don't miss this one!

Rushdie, Salman. Shalimar the Clown. Random House, 2005.

• Rushdie is a masterful writer. Overwhelmingly, as I was reading this novel, I felt like I was taken care of by a skilled and careful writer. One can hear the characters in the dialogue and patient development of inner monologues. One gets the sense of a narrative arc, yet the end is surprising, nonetheless. Sprawling and engaging, this is a page turner. 

Shreve, Anita. The Last Time They Met: A Novel. Little, Brown and Company, 2001.

• This is a really well written piece of rubbish. Normally I don't read romance novels (probably for the same reason Cervantes despised them), but I was desperate to read something in English. This book just happened to be on the shelf in the Airbnb in Boquete where I was staying. So, I read it. If you are ever as desperate as I was, then I suppose you could read it too. 

Smith, Clint. How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America. Hachette Book Group, 2021.

• 
  Excellent books stay with the reader for a long time. Clint Smith's journey through the legacies of slavery is as much poetry as it is memoir. Compelling. Honest. Well-documented. Smith brings it to the reader even as he travels from Texas to Florida to Senegal and beyond on his own personal voyage, concluding with this passage: "My grandparents' stories are my inheritance; each one is an heirloom I carry. Each one is a monument to an era that still courses through my grandfather's veins. Each story is a memorial that still sits in my grandmother's bones. My grandparents' voices are a museum I am still learning how to visit, each conversation with them a new exhibit worthy of my time" (Smith 288). Don't miss this one.

Smith, Harriet Elinor, ed. Autobiography of Mark Twain. Volume 1. University of California Press, 2010.

• A word of caution: when setting yourself with a goal of reading one book each week it is not advisable to attempt a 700 page autobiography of wordy-man Mark Twain. What was I thinking? All said, though, this is an interesting collection of Twain's work. One of the more compelling aspects of it is that Twain prohibited his autobiography to be published in its entirety until 100 years passed after his death. He was concerned about offending people with his honesty. It's a good book and I learned a lot about the man that I did not know. For example, he struggled with money, yet appears to have had access to enormous sums throughout his life. If reading such a tome as this needs incentive, then try out this sentence as a taste of the exquisite kind of writing you'll encounter: "In London poor old ragged men and women go up and down the middle of the empty streets, Sunday afternoons, singing the most heart-breakingly desolate hymns and sorrowful ditties in weak and raspy and wheezy voices -- voices that are hardly strong enough to carry across the street -- and the villagers listen and are grateful, and fling pennies out of the windows, and in the deep stillness of the Sabbath afternoon you can hear the money strike upon the stones a block away" (115).

Tokarczuk, Olga. Flights. Trans. Jennifer Croft. Riverhead Books, 2018.

• This is a book about leaving. Sometimes it's written in the first person, whereby Tokarczuk shares travel stories with the reader, personal episodes in the life of a traveler. In other instances, the action is of a woman leaving her husband; or a husband leaving his wife by dying. The reader gets the sense that these events intersect with Tokarczuk's life, but there is no certainty. Indeed, that is the overarching theme here: of the impermanence of living, whether from a suitcase or in relationships. It's whimsical, sometimes funny, occasionally melancholy. 

2022 Reading List

This year began with renewed plans for travel, first to Scotland with my daughter and then to Panama with my husband. Many of the titles here represent preparations for or readings completed during these visits.  

Drayson, Elizabeth. The Moor's Last Stand: How Seven Centuries of Muslim Rule in Spain Came to an End. Profile Books, 2018.

• I picked this book from my daughter's bookshelf to read on the plane as I flew home from Scotland. Really it was intended to be diversion but ended up being a well written history of the reign of Boabdil, the last sultan of Granada whose life coincided with the rise of the Catholic Monarchs, Isabelle and Ferdinand. It's a sympathetic rendering of the tough choices and their consequences leading to Boabdil's ignoble end. 

Eco, Umberto. The Name of the Rose. William Weaver, trans. Harvest Books, 1994.

• Any title by Umberto Eco is worth the time and energy to read. This book is set in a monastery in the 14th century. It's part murder mystery, part theological treatise delving deeply into sectarian disputes within the Catholic Church. Eco is a profound writer, capturing character, narrative arc and foreshadowing tools to tell the story of a wayward monk's apprentice who attempts to solve a series of murders in the abbey. Looking for an absorbing novel? Here's one for you. 

Ewing, Jack. Monkeys are Made of Chocolate: Exotic and Unseen Costa Rica. PixyJack Press, 2005.

• This is a silly book written by an American guy who left the States to live in Costa Rica. He writes about monkeys and crocodiles, tourists and chocolate. It's fun and easy, and I recommend it for anyone thinking of travel to Costa Rica.

Gudmonson, Lowell and Justin Wolfe, eds. Blacks and Blackness in Central America: Between Race and Place. Duke University Press, 2010.

• This is one of the background books I used to research before heading to Panama. As an anthology it works nicely to introduce some of the topics related to people of African ancestry in Central America. It is an academic text, however, and a few of the selections assumed a level of knowledge from the reader. 

Hannah-Jones, Nikole, et al. The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story. 1st ed., One World, 2021. 

• Black history is American history. That's the premise of this seminal text featuring photographs, poetry and rich history that documents the relationships between Black, white and Indigenous Americans from 1619 to 2021. The intersectionality of topics and dynamic writing make this a must-read book for everyone.

Joyce, Rachel. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry: A Novel. Random House, 2012.

• I actually don't remember when or why I purchased this book. It may have been something recommended by Alistair Moffat, whose walking memoir appears in this list and which I read while in Scotland. At any rate, Rachel Joyce has written a sweet novel about relationships and the power of life events to shape one's personality. It is simultaneously inspiring and intriguing. Joyce develops the characters carefully, and then surprises the reader with an unexpected conclusion. It worked well for me as easy airplane reading. 

Künne, Martin, Lucrecia Pérez de Batres, and Philippe Costa. “Recent Rock Art Studies in Eastern MesoAmerica and Lower Central America, 2005–2009.” Rock Art Studies (2012): 288–309. Web. https://www.academia.edu/en/40816747/Recent_Rock_Art_Studies_in_Eastern_Mesoamerica_and_Lower_Central_America_2005_2009

• This is an insightful overview of several rock art sites in Central America. In particular, this article identifies some of the features of the Caldera site south of Boquete, Panama which I plan to visit in a few days.

Menzies, Gavin. 1421: The Year China Discovered America. HarperCollins, 2003.

• Although the title doesn't reflect it, this book is about the history of maps. Menzies writes of Chinese exploration around the world in the early 15th century, and the ways in which subsequent explorers such as Columbus, Vasco de Gama, Coronado and many other used the maps created by the Chinese to find their way. It's a controversial book. At one point Menzies claims Christopher Columbus and his brother Bartholomew "forged a chart [they] knew was bogus" and engaged in other activities "under false pretenses" to convince the Catholic Monarchs to fund Columbus' 1492 exploration (434). Despite these kinds of controversial statements, I found the text interesting and imaginative. It is the perfect book to finish 2022! 

Moffat, Alistair. The Hidden Ways: Scotland's Forgotten Roads. Canongate Books, 2017.

• Let me start by saying that I love this book! It is delightfully written with a nice balance of travelogue and history about some very old roads in Scotland. Along the way, I was inspired to visit some of the locations Moffat writes about. His humor, grace and personal reflection shine through on every page. This is a good companion for walking Scotia.

Ngai, Mae. The Chinese Question: The Gold Rushes and Global Politics. W.W. Norton & Co., 2021.

• There is a new kind of history emerging, not just in the US but in universities all across the world. It's known as Global History, focusing on the intersectionality of a topic across time and space. Mae Ngai's recent history about the role of racism, nativism and immigration among Chinese gold miners is one example. In it, Ngai focuses on the Gold Rushes of California, Australia and South Africa as a way of showing the intersectionality of these global events on individual people. It's a good book, an interesting approach to history and for it Ngai won the prestigious Bancroft Prize in 2022.

Olien, Michael D. “Black and Part-Black Populations in Colonial Costa Rica: Ethnohistorical Resources and Problems.” Ethnohistory, vol. 27, no. 1, Duke University Press, 1980, pp. 13–29, https://doi.org/10.2307/481625.

• In pursuit of learning about the history of Black folk in Costa Rica I came across this article from 1980. It's dated but contains some intriguing information about 17th century shipwrecks and pirates on the Atlantic coastal region of Central America. And who doesn't love a good pirate story? This article also contains a nice overview of archival repositories in San Jose, Costa Rica.

Petras, Elizabeth McLean. Jamaican Labor Migration: White Capitol and Black Labor, 1850 - 1930. Westview Press, 1988. Online.

• My daughter told me about a research project she's working on at university. The topic was so interesting that I cruised around the database called Internet Archive, where I located this book. In it, Petras outlines some of the key issues facing Jamaicans after the collapse of the sugar cane industry and the abolition of slavery in the mid-19th century. Essentially, Jamaican men became the predominant migrant labor source for construction projects on the Panama Canal, as well as in Cuba, Costa Rica and the United States. Reading this book makes me want to visit Jamaica. 

Pineda, Baron L. “Nicaragua’s Two Coasts.” Shipwrecked Identities: Navigating Race on Nicaragua’s Mosquito Coast. Rutgers University Press: 2006. 21– 66. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt5hj296.4.

• This chapter follows up on my pursuit of pirates and shipwrecks along the east coast of Central America. The premise of the chapter is that the Black presence in Nicaragua and Costa Rica may date to one particular slave ship which was wrecked in the waters off Nicaragua's eastern coastline around the year 1640. Survivors intermarried with some of the Indigenous groups in the region. I'm on the hunt to learn more. 

Procter, Alice. The Whole Picture: The Colonial Story of the Art in Our Museums and Why We Need to Talk About It. Octopus Publishing, 2021. 

• I picked up this book at the David Livingstone Birthplace Museum outside Glasgow, Scotland. It has been a fun and interesting read while traveling between Glasgow, Bridge of Allan and Edinburgh. Procter points out uncomfortable truths about some of the objects found in museums such as human remains or ritual artefacts stolen by Europeans from societies under European colonial rule. Art and museum collections care management will become increasingly relevant as we head into the middle of the 21st century.

Sanghera, Sathnam. Empireland: How Imperialism Has Shaped Modern Britain. Viking, 2021. 

• In September, I visited the Wardlaw Museum in St. Andrews, Scotland. This title was on the shelf in the museum bookshop and on a whim I bought it. Sanghera does a good job presenting the idea of empire and its impact on peoples and cultures around the world. My conclusion: I am a product of empire, as the British colonial experience shaped my ancestors in the 17th century ... both in England and in North America. If you are looking for solid reading about the long arm of empire, this is the book for you. 

Troncoso, Andres & Armstrong, Felipe & Basile, Mara. (2017). "Rock Art in Central and South America: Social Settings and Regional Diversity." 10.1093/oxfordhb/9780190607357.013.53.

• This article articulates some of the key elements of rock art in Central and South America. As an overview to the topic, it identifies three types of rock art: geoglyphs, pigment arts and petroglyphs. Troncoso et al also provide examples of each type from pre-contact and post-contact societies. I read this article in preparation for a site visit to the petroglyphs called Piedras Pintadas en Caldera south of Boquete, Panama.

2021 Books in Review

My reading selection this year has been diffuse and random. I started 2021 wanting to read more Indigenous voices but then found it challenging to stay focused. The emphasis shifted to just reading whatever fiction floated my way. I think the randomness of this reading list is a metaphor for the instability of living through a pandemic. 

Blanding, Michael. North by Shakespeare: A Rogue Scholar's Quest for the Truth Behind the Bard's Work. Hatchett Books, 2021.

• To know me is to know that I love Shakespeare. I love reading his plays and sonnets, and I love reading about him in biographies and critical analysis. Blanding's book challenges me, however, as it works to present a new (and some would say heretical) narrative about the source texts for most of Shakespeare's plays as coming from a man named Thomas North, an aristocrat who served Queen Elizabeth I in various capacities in the late 16th century. Blanding acts as the critical voice who presents Dennis McCarthy and his research into North. This explains the title, but there is much, much more. According to McCarthy, most of the plays we believe are Shakespeare's are actually autobiographical moments in North's life. It's a good book if you are into Shakespeare and his body of work in new and uncomfortable ways. 

Ford, Jamie. Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet: A Novel. Random House, 2009.

• This is a well told, if not formulaic, novel about race and racism in mid-20th century Seattle. Ford knows how to weave characters and plot a narrative arc that are at once interesting and engaging. If you are looking for a heartwarming story with a hint of social justice but that's also a page turner, then this is the book for you!

Garcia, Gabriela. Of Women and Salt: A Novel. Flatiron Books, 2021. 

• This book came to me from a list of recommended new authors. Garcia writes an engaging story about several generations of women, mostly from the same family, whose lives span the shores of Cuba and Florida. Although there are moments when the reader can recognize this is the narrative of a new writer, there is also the hint that Garcia's best work is still to come. 

Grandin, Greg. Empire's Workshop: Latin America, the United States, and the Making of an Imperial Republic. Updated and Expanded. Picador, 2021. 

• 
  Grandin is a great historian who brings passion and storytelling to often grim historic events. This is the third book by Grandin that I've read, and I find it to be the most compelling of them all. The premise of this text is that the US uses Latin America as a workshop to practice and refine its empire building project. Along the way, the US causes massive destabilization, violence and misery among the people of Latin America. It is US foreign policy that forces people to migrate. It is US domestic policy that demonizes those who immigrate. And the wheel turns on and on. This is a good book with lots of receipts, but be advised: it will make you angry at the money spent and the blood shed with our tax dollars. The only way we change this dynamic is for the American people to insist that the Biden Administration break the cycle. Are you in?

Hämäläinen, Pekka. Lakota America: A New History of Indigenous Power. Yale University Press, 2019.

Lakota Winter Count,
circa 19th century
Houston Museum of Natural Science

• History is the act of keeping records. One thing that's largely missing in traditional histories of Indigenous people is the story of their existence from their perspective. Hämäläinen seeks to overturn that practice of centering Indigenous history around Anglo-American documents and Westernized perspectives by presenting the history of the Lakota people through their Winter Count records. The Winter Counts were recorded on buffalo hides, chronicling events that the Lakota people experienced in any given year. Hämäläinen also seeks to write a history of the Lakota that subverts common mythologizing about the Sioux when he asserts that "the great paradox of Lakota history is that by helping prevent the realization of other Wests -- French, British, Spanish -- Lakotas inadvertently paved the way for the American West and, eventually, their own downfall. The italics are Hämäläinen's. This is a sprawling and provocative history. If you're interested in seeing Indigenous history in a brand new way, this is a good book for you!

Hamer, Marc. Seed to Dust: Life, Nature, and a Country Garden. Graystone Books, 2021. 

• Hamer writes a quiet memoir about life, gardens and the people he loves. Woven into the pattern of four seasons, this book chronicles the subtleties and internal workings of plants, animals and humans. It is one part botany, three parts philosophy ... neither of which the reader realizes until nearly the last page. It's a healing story, something I've found helpful to get me through the instability of living through a pandemic. 

Ishiguro, Kazuo. Klara and the Sun: A Novel. Alfred A. Knopf, 2021. 

• It's an unexpected story about robots and redemption. Ishiguro is a fine writer who knows how to build characters, develop narrative arc and create vivid imagery. What I wasn't expecting is the emotional investment I got from reading about AFs (Artificial Friends) and the people who used them. 

Levitt, Peggy. Artifacts and Allegiances: How Museums Put the Nation and the World on Display. University of California Press, 2015.

• Museums are changing. This book seeks to present some of the ways in which museums have historically exhibited their holdings, but it also explores the difference between museums with a nationalistic focus and museums with an international focus. It's a provocative way of understanding objects on display in a museum, as well as the intended and unintended messages those displays provide to the public. 

Neiman, Susan. Learning from the Germans: Race and the Memory of Evil. Picador, 2019.

• I read this book in the closing days of the Trump Administration, ironically or not, during the failed insurrection to overturn the results of the 2020 election. The book combines an exploration of racial attitudes in post-World War II Germany with historical analysis and first person reporting of racism in the United States. Neiman is Jewish and grew up in Georgia. Later she moved to Germany, where she experienced Germany's attempts to reconcile their anti-Semitic past. The book moves back and forth between the two countries, both in time and place, offering insightful analysis of the ways in which racism is used to strengthen authoritarian regimes. 

Obama, Barack. A Promised Land. Crown, 2020. 

• Obama is a good writer. If he hadn't gotten into politics, it's likely he would have become a successful writer. As it is, he's written three books, all of which I've read, with mastery and eloquence. There are equal doses of philosophy, humor and political intrigue in this one, including a suspenseful telling of the capture of Osama bin Laden. One aspect of Obama's narrative that keeps me coming back for more: his optimism about democracy. Even in the face of historic levels of obstruction from the GOP, Obama is still upbeat about democracy's potential. This, along with some really good story telling, makes this 700 page book worth the effort. 

Rakove, Jack N. James Madison and the Creation of the American Republic. Pearson, 2007.

• Rakove is a first rate historian. He is well versed in the nuances of the Revolutionary Period in US history, which comes across quite clearly in this text. But truly, sometimes he gets into the weeds with the minutiae of history. Yet the last couple chapters of this book are quite remarkable in their insight and explanation of Madison's legacy. I've read this book twice now and learned new ideas both times. It's a strong addition to any library on the Founding Fathers.

Silverman, David J. This Land Is Their Land: The Wampanoag Indians, Plymouth Colony and the Troubled History of Thanksgiving. Bloomsbury, 2020.

• This book goes far beyond what the title suggests. Although it definitely treats the subject of Thanksgiving, it also explains relationships and challenges that New England Indigenous groups experienced in the 17th century. For those who want a detailed view of Indigenous-colonial relations in New England, this is a good one.

Sylvester, Natalia. Everyone Knows You Go Home: A Novel. Little a: 2018.

• Sylvester is a new-ish author who tells a good story by weaving characters in both time and space. There is an element of magical realism here, complete with ghosts and dreams about the dead. One also gets the sense that Sylvester is working through the process of writing in English when Spanish is her first language. It's an interesting process for the reader, and Sylvester should be commended first for attempting it and second for doing it well. This is a good story that explores what it means to go home when living in the US as an immigrant.

Thiers, Barbara M. Herbarium: The Quest to Preserve & Classify the World's Plants. Timber Press, 2020.

• 
  
  My husband gave me this book for Christmas. It is a sweet text full of images, maps and drawings of plants in a one-of-a-kind collection. If you are interested in herbariums, this is a delightful blend of art and history as it intersects with botany and field studies of plants around the world.

Tyson, Cicely and Michelle Burford. Just As I Am: A Memoir. Harper, 2021.

• Just days before she passed, Cicely Tyson posted on social media that her memoir had been published and was available for purchase. I ordered a copy, only to learn that she died the same day. Along with being an amazing actress of the 20th century, Tyson was a good human being. There were events in her life that I had no idea she experienced, but learning them in this autobiography only made her story more endearing. This is a feel good book with a special message for Black women at the very end.

Yu, Charles. Interior Chinatown: A Novel. Vintage Books, 2020. 

• 
  This is probably one of the funniest books I have ever read. It's also brutally honest about racism and stereotypes about Asians. Others seem to agree with that assessment since it was recently named the National Book Award winner for 2020. As a novel, Yu spins the story around actors trying to break into the Hollywood film scene. There's Generic Asian Man, Young Oriental Flower, Wizened Chinaman and Old Asian Woman. Oh, and don't forget the Kung Fu Dad, too! None of these characters get hired beyond the flat stereotypes depicted in their names. By presenting characters the way he does, Yu heads straight into the world of Asian stereotypes, illuminating their absurdities with humor and dignity when he writes, "There's just something about Asians that makes reality a little too real, overcomplicates the clarity, the duality, the clean elegance of BLACK and WHITE, the proven template and so the decision is made not in some overarching conspiracy to exclude Asians but because it's just easier to keep it how we have it ... You wonder: Can you change it? Can you be the one who actually breaks through?" (39). Later Yu answers this question when he writes, "Ever since you were a boy, you've dreamt of being Kung Fu Guy. You're not Kung Fu Guy. But maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be the day" (45). It's a hopeful, bittersweet story of real people who are flattened into stifling stereotypes by white people who hold all the power. If you want to laugh, and then maybe cry at how sadly funny, infuriating and absurd racism can be, then you should read this book too. 

What I've Read in 2020

The pandemic, #BlackLivesMatter actions and the election have taken a toll on my reading habits. Generally I try to get through two or three books each month. Clearly that hasn't happened in 2020. 

If there is any theme to these titles it might be found in the idea of empires and their decline, or rulers losing power. It's humbling to remind ourselves that nothing -- not kings or countries -- lasts forever.

Benner, Erica. Be Like the Fox: Machiavelli's Lifelong Quest for Freedom. W.W. Norton & Co, 2017.

• Part biography, part history of the city of Florence between 1494 and 1527, this book contextualized Machiavelli's most famous works including Discourses (1517) and The Prince (1513). Along the way it also reminds the reader that republics are precious and worth fighting for, even if it means great personal risk. Reading this book is a clarion call reminder to preserve our own republic in the face of increasing corruption and authoritarianism.

Cantor, Norman F. The Civilization of the Middle Ages. HarperPerennial, 1993.

• This book sweeps through historic events with a very broad brush. Cantor is seminal in historic studies of the Middle Ages, but the well of knowledge he brings to the topic often assumes a baseline for the reader which may not, in fact, exist. One of my favorite sections of this text appears in Chapter Eleven entitled "The Gregorian World Revolution." In it, Cantor describes the colossal power struggle between Pope Gregory VII and German King Henry IV in 1076. If ever there was an event from which we of the 21st century could draw wisdom, it would be this battle between church and state. Cantor is a good read, but be prepared for the big picture.

Christenson, Allen J. Popol Vuh: The Sacred Book of the Maya. University of Oklahoma Press, 2003.

• Often funny, profound and ever entertaining, the sacred text of the Quiche Maya of Guatemala is a must read for understanding their culture and spiritual ideology. Christenson's translation is excellent, and includes a moving introduction.

Diamond, Jared. Upheaval: Turning Points for Nations in Crisis. Little, Brown and Company, 2019.

• Jared Diamond is one of those authors who reliably publishes compelling non-fiction every five years or so. Anything you read by him will be provocative and rewarding. In this case, Upheaval identifies the characteristics a nation needs in order to heal from the trauma of crisis. Some of these characteristics include honest appraisal about how the country arrived in crisis, as well as the need for consensus about how to get out of the crisis. Diamond uses case studies from Finland, Japan, Chile and Germany to illustrate the ways societies might respond to their moment of national upheaval. This is a good book for putting U.S. circumstances into perspective. If you are looking for ideas about how to think about the crisis in the U.S. right now, then this is the book for you.

Forker, Charles R., ed. The Arden Shakespeare: King Richard II. Bloomsbury, 2009.

• I love Shakespeare. He is my inspiration and my muse. I love reading about him, as well as reading works by him. So you can imagine my delight at finding this brand new copy of Shakespeare's King Richard II companioned with Forker's critical commentary at my local thrift shop. I swooped it up in a hot second, only to leave it sitting on my book shelf for many months, unread. But now, in the midst of an increasingly autocratic presidency, I have returned to it and find comfort in Shakespeare's portrayal of a king who sells his name and his kingdom only to lose everything. That which he craves most slips through his grasp -- money, affection, power and fame. That which he fears most is at hand -- poverty, disgust, impotency and ignominy. Certainly, the past informs the present. 

Hawley, Jack. The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners. New World Library, 2001.

• Classic. Epic. Enlightening. Hawley's translation of this ancient Hindu text is easy to read and invigorating. The spiritual truths Krishna shares with Arjuna are enduring and relate-able, making Arjuna a kind of Everyman for the soul. 

Jones-Rogers, Stephanie E. They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in the American South. Yale University Press, 2019.

• This is a hard book to read. Mostly because Jones-Rogers uses primary sourced letters and testimonies of white violence on Black bodies in graphic detail. It seems to be a myth that white women were kinder than men with the slaves they purported to own in the Antebellum Period. Jones-Rogers is here to disabuse all of us of that stereotype. Along the way, she presents strong evidence to show that white women used as much physical, emotional and psychological violence on slaves as did white men. Needless to say, reading this book is a grim reminder of the traumatic legacy slavery inflicted on Black folk.

Kimmerer, Robin Wall. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. Milkweed Editions, 2013.

• Kimmerer writes a book of healing by weaving together Indigenous stories with the science of the non-Indian world. I like this book. It is poetic and empowering, wide-eyed honest about the natural world and elegant about human spiritual needs. 

Landers, Jane G. and Barry M. Robinson, eds. Slaves, Subjects, and Subversives: Blacks in Colonial Latin America. University of New Mexico Press, 2006.

• This book is a spin-off line of inquiry after reading Susan Buck-Morss' Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History last December. The topic of that text was Black agency in Haiti in the early 19th century, and the ways in which Hegel implicitly wrote about slavery and freedom in relation to his philosophical exploration of universal history. In this text, edited by Landers and Robinson, that idea of Black agency and empowerment takes a central position. Using primary sources from archives in various slave holding regions of Latin America such as Cuba, Mexico, Argentina and Brazil, various authors articulate the gradations of Black subversion to white power structures between the 16th through the 19th centuries. It's a good book, and especially useful if you are looking for one or two chapters on the topic of slavery and Black responses to it. 

McGinty, Brian. Archy Lee's Struggle for Freedom: The True Story of California Gold, the Nation's Tragic March Toward Civil War, and a Young Black Man's Fight for Liberty. Lyons Press, 2020.

• While doing some research in newspaper archives from San Francisco in the 1870s, I ran across a brief reference to Archy Lee, a young Black man who was fighting to remain free in early California. His story piqued my interest and, to my delight, I found McGinty's just published book released only a couple weeks earlier. It's a good read, full of early California history and the laws associated with slavery. McGinty does a great job using legal documents and newspaper archives to construct the story of Archy Lee as he travels from Mississippi to California to British Columbia, Canada in his quest for freedom.

Orange, Tommy. There, There. Vintage Books, 2018.

• As the Native American renaissance which began in the 1960s continues to weave its way into non-Indian consciousness, emerging writers give voice to the lives and issues of contemporary Indians in interesting ways. Tommy Orange is one such writer. In this gritty novel, Orange presents a group of Indians living in Oakland, California amidst the fractured and fractaled shards of their life journeys. Splintered by racism and poverty, each character attempts to connect with themselves and the spiritual forces around them in ways that are sometimes perverse, often sad and yet always dignified. This is a classic metamodern novel in that the stories are loosely disconnected at the beginning, but oscillate toward a cohesive whole at the end. The trauma non-Indians feel when reading it is but a fraction of the trauma Indians have experienced living this reality.

Parker, T. Jefferson. Iron River: A Charlie Hood Novel. New American Library, 2010. 

• This is a book about guns. I must have heard a book review about it somewhere, some time before the pandemic broke out; that's the only explanation I can give for why I ordered it in the first place. Like a bad date, it is not my type. Basically the story revolves around a two-bit detective by name of Charlie Hood. He tracks some gun dealers into Mexico and almost gets shot, but then he makes it out okay and the reader is left dangling with the very blatant suggestion that unanswered questions about his love life will be resolved in the sequel. Finishing this felt like cheap sex. Serious.

Powers, Richard. The Overstory: A Novel. W. W. Norton & Co., 2018.

• Reading this book in the middle of a pandemic has been both saddening and encouraging. The story is one of trees -- their life cycle from seed to rotting stumps --, and of a handful of activists who try to protect them. More than once I am reminded of Edward Abbey's Monkeywrench Gang, that funny and radical story of a ragtag band's desperate attempts to save wild lands. But Powers' book is also a soulful exploration of the natural world, and our human impacts upon it. And in the midst of a global crisis such as the one we face in 2020, these questions of survival are not just rhetorical. Perhaps like the trees, individuals will not make it but the seeds of the next generation may just. 

Roy, Arudhati. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness: A Novel. Vintage Books, 2017.

• Even before I had reached the end of it, I already knew this was a book I would need to read again. Akin to a prism, it reflects people, ideas, history and experiences across South Asia. Dense with references to India, Pakistan and Kashmir, this novel sprawls across time and through the lives of people in ways that Roy handles deftly, like the master writer that she is. In it, she tells us the story of the Hijra, transgendered people of the slums of Delhi. But this novel is more than that, too, as it places the reader into the Hindu-Muslim conflict in Kashmir, asking us to consider facets of our knowledge and experience before deciding who is right and what is wrong. 

Shakespeare, William. Hamlet: CliffsComplete. Cliffs Notes, 2000.

• Shakespeare's masterpiece continues to enthrall me, even after reading it several times every year for the past quarter century. Is Hamlet an actor? Will Hamlet ever act? These perennial questions still bare much fruit in our quest to understand the fateful events of a troubled young prince. You should read it, if you haven't already. And you should read it again, if you already have.

Trump, Mary L. Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World's Most Dangerous Man. Simon and Schuster, 2020.

• An eye-opening read about the early childhood of Donald Trump. If nothing else, this book helped me realize that the abuse, neglect and dysfunction he experienced as a child is now being perpetrated upon the entire country. 

2019 Books in Review

This year's collection of books is eclectic and varied. I didn't really have a theme for 2019, aside from trying to understand the historical moment this country finds itself in.

Most of the texts around the issues of race and slavery came earlier in the year. In the fall  I took off on a Venice jag (probably foreshadowing an eminent visit) but now I've wound my way back to history, race and slavery with the recently begun Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History by Susan Buck-Morss.

Atwood, Margaret. The Handmaid's Tale. Fawcett Crest, 1985.

• I read this book over 30 years ago, when it first came out. It's grim forecast for society in the U.S. repelled me, despite Atwood's amazingly spare writing. In just a few words, she is able to build vivid images, leading the reader into the despairing world of Gilead. Now, in the age of trumpism, I've returned to read it again. This time around, what was a grim forecast is now suggestive of our cruel present.

Auslander, Mark. The Accidental Slaveowner: Revisiting a Myth of Race and Finding an American Family. University of Georgia Press, 2011.

• This is a poignant true story about an enslaved woman in Georgia. Along the way toward researching and writing this book, Auslander uncovered myths and history. If you are interested in genealogy, African American families, US history and the formation of myths in society then this is the book for you.

Blackmon, Douglas A. Slavery by Another Name: The Re-Enslavement of Black Americans from the Civil War to World War II. Anchor Books, 2008.

• A grim but well-sourced accounting of neo-slavery in the South. This text traces individuals and their families in an intimate and respectful journey, which leads the reader to a thoughtful understanding of the implications of forced labor in African American families.

Brodsky, Joseph. Watermark: An Essay on Venice. Penguin Books, 1992.

• This may be one of the best books I have ever read. The writing is amazing; sentences with alliteration, paragraphs of meaning. It's a love story Brodsky writes, not for a person but for a city. And all with reason. "For this" Brodsky claims, "is the city of the eye; your other faculties play a faint second fiddle" (27). There are history lessons here, and the faint contours of romantic tragedy, but mostly it's just an ode to a city which "beautifies the future"(134). 

Buck-Morss, Susan. Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History. University of Pittsburgh Press, 2009.

• This is a sprawling book that wanders across several disciplines including history, philosophy, linguistics and race studies. It explores the origins of zombies, the social context for Hegelian dialectics and the role of the 1791 Haitian Revolution in world history. I loved this book for its profound ideas, but I really wish that Buck-Morss had been a bit more organized in it. The chapters wander almost as much as the topics, often returning to repeat information in unnecessary ways. It's a good book with important implications for us today, but it does require a dedicated reader to get through it.

Christenson, Allen J. Popol Vuh: The Sacred Book of the Maya. University of Oklahoma Press, 2003.

• Often funny, profound and ever entertaining, the sacred text of the Quiche Maya of Guatemala is a must read for understanding their culture and spiritual ideology. Christenson's translation is excellent, and includes a moving introduction.

Diehl, Gregory V. Travel as Transformation: Conquer the Limits of Culture to Discover Your Own Identity. Identity Publications, 2016.

• A simple yet occasionally profound primer on the virtues of travel for understanding the self.

Goodell, Jeff. The Water Will Come: Rising Seas, Sinking Cities, and the Remaking of the Civilized World. Back Bay Books, 2017.

• Grim and well researched, Goodell takes the reader from Venice to Miami and points in between to chronicle the impact of climate change and rising sea levels on communities around the world. If you weren't prepared to think about eight feet of sea level rise by the end of the century, Goodell's work may do it for you. Read it and weep. Then get busy raising awareness. We still have a small window to stop the floods. Who will join the effort?

Grande, Reyna. The Distance Between Us: A Memoir. Washington Square Press, 2012.

• Immigration traumatizes individuals and families. That's one of the underlying ideas woven into the fabric of this touching true story about the Grande-Rodriguez family in their search to escape the poverty of Mexico. This book will make you laugh, and it will make you cry. It also shows the motivations and ambitions of people who were simply born on the wrong side of a political boundary, and the traumas they experience to change their fates.

Grandin, Greg. The End of the Myth: From the Frontier to the Border Wall in the Mind of America. Metropolitan Books, 2019.

• Grandin writes an eloquent and savage criticism of U.S. border psychology. Both compelling and insightful, this text articulates American escapism through frontier fantasy. You should read it.

Hawley, Jack. The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners. New World Library, 2001.

• Classic. Epic. Enlightening. Hawley's translation of this ancient Hindu text is easy to read and invigorating. The spiritual truths Krishna shares with Arjuna are enduring and relate-able, making Arjuna a kind of Everyman for the soul. 

Holmes, Seth. Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies: Migrant Farmworkers in the United States. University of California Press, 2013.

• Holmes integrates medical training with anthropology to produce an insightful and poignant look at migrant farm workers and the toll their labor takes on their bodies. It's part academic research and part personal narrative of lived experiences that Holmes delivers. By the time you read the last page, this book will also cause you to question the origin of the food you eat. It may be fresh fruit, but it rides on the backs of broken bodies.

Jacoby, Karl. The Strange Career of William Ellis: The Texas Slave Who Became a Mexican Millionaire. W.W. Norton and Co., 2016.

• This is a well-researched and well-written biography about William Ellis, which also analyzes racism and the phenomena of passing in late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Justice, Daniel Heath. Why Indigenous Literatures Matter. Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2018.

• Part lit review, part Indigenous history, part family genealogy: this slim volume packs a lot of spirituality and wisdom into just a few pages. Among other things, Justice provides us with a call to remember "Our relations to each other, our prayers whispered across generations to our relatives" in acts of storytelling that weave the past, present and future together. 

Lewis, Michael. The Fifth Risk. W.W. Norton and Co., 2018.

• When discussing the consequences of Donald Trump's presidency, the last sentence and the title explain it all: "It's what you fail to imagine that kills you."

Mackrell, Judith. The Unfinished Palazzo: Life, Love and Art in Venice. Thames & Hudson, 2017.

• The biography of one house and three different women who lived in it. Mackrell captures the loves and losses of a series of women and one Venetian palace. Along the way, the reader is swept up in the winds of 20th century history, including the vicissitudes of war and the rise of fascism. A compelling, if melancholic, read.

Netz, Reviel and William Noel. The Archimedes Codex: How a Medieval Prayer Book is Revealing the True Genius of Antiquity's Greatest Scientist. Da Capo Press, 2007.

• This book is a love letter to history. It's also an astonishing tour de force using the tools of mathematics and science to provide a 21st century understanding of a 3rd century BC natural philosopher.

Olson, Steve. Mapping Human History: Genes, Race, and Our Common Origins. First Mariner Books, 2003.

• I first read this book about ten years ago and really liked it. It has bits of science, linguistics, history and social commentary all wrapped up in an easy to read and interesting format. One of my favorite take away facts from reading it this time: that about 81 billion (with a B) people have lived on earth since humans became modern around 150,000 years ago. And, remarkably, we are all cousins. 

Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing. G. P. Putnam's Sons, 2018.

• One of my writing teachers once said "Writers are people who write." It's a simple slogan with a lot of truth to it. But it's worth acknowledging that writers are also people who read. If you are looking for a book from which to learn the craft of writing, this is it. This book is arguably one of the best novels I have ever read that both entertains and instructs. It contains richly developed characters and a wonderful narrative arc. The ending is a surprise, and once it's over you will want to start again. 

Shakespeare, William. Hamlet: CliffsComplete. Cliffs Notes, 2000.

• Shakespeare's masterpiece contains to enthrall me, even after reading it several times every year for the past quarter century. Is Hamlet an actor? Will Hamlet ever act? These perennial questions still bare much fruit in our quest to understand the fateful events of a troubled young prince. You should read it, if you haven't already. And you should read it again, if you already have.

Stevenson, Bryan. Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. Speigel & Grau, 2014.

• A moving story about the creation of the Equal Justice Initiative and the peoples' lives who are impacted by unjust trial conditions and sentencing. Stevenson is a great storyteller, and an amazing lawyer. This book will make you cry, and then it will make you want to become a lawyer.

Last Night in London

Tomorrow* we leave London. Our last efforts at enjoying the city include a ride yesterday on the London Eye and a bit of a shopping spree in Covent Garden. The crowds were huge and the weather was hot. Indeed, while riding the Underground I spotted a newspaper headline which claimed 19 April 2018 was the hottest ever recorded in London since 1841.

Needless to say, we are feeling a bit of weather whiplash, what with the record cold winter in the Low Countries and now the record hot spring in England.

Weather challenges aside, this morning we headed out on foot toward the Charles Dickens Museum. Unfortunately before we arrived at 48 Doughty Street, we were witness to an elderly pedestrian who was struck by a car on Grays Inn Road. Happily the man was able to walk afterwards, which is about the best one can hope for under the circumstances.

After that sad adventure we finally made it to the museum. It was delightful.

According to a volunteer guide with whom we spoke, Dickens lived in this rented house on Doughty Street from 1837 - 1840. He also lived in two other London houses, both of which have since been torn down. Luckily this one was preserved by the neighbors in the 1920s when there was talk of demolishing all the houses on this street.

Some of the highlights of Dickens' life in this house include the birth of two of his sons, and he wrote three of his early works in this house.

The museum has done a nice job of collecting objects which were owned by Dickens, including a mahogany side board in the dining room and his writing desk in the study, along with letters and lithographs, and the author's dress suit from his meeting with the royal family.

Gad's Hill Scroll
Charles Dickens Museum, London

In the entrance hall of the museum, a framed image known as the Gad's Hill Scroll rests obsequiously against the wall. Apparently Dickens had it specially made and hung with pride in his home at Gad's Hill. There is a back story to the scroll which includes a reference both to Shakespeare and to Chaucer. In a nutshell, Dickens' home at Gad's Hill was the location of a scene from Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part I, one of the bard's more elaborate history plays.

In Henry IV, Falstaff is at Gad's Hill when he robs some of the pilgrims heading for Chaucer's Canterbury. This reference by Shakespeare about Dickens' home was a source of pride for Dickens. Indeed, he counted Shakespeare as one of the greatest sources of inspiration in his own storytelling, hence the scroll.

Of course, if you have been reading any of my recent posts, you will know that Chaucer has made some recurring appearances in my own journey, hence this interest in the scroll.

Today, Dickens' home at Gad's Hill is a school. A plaque graces one of its walls, commemorating the famous author who overcame life circumstances to live there. I think next time I'm in England, I'll have to make a visit.

* I began this blog post while still in London but only just now finished it in Dublin, Ireland. 

Books and Canals

Of late, I have been walking.

Word on the Water
Regent's Canal, London

To the British Museum. To Hyde Park. To Covent Garden. Today my walk included a visit to Word on the Water, a book barge on Regent's Canal.

Basically it's a book shop in a 100 year old Dutch boat. On sunny afternoons like today, the owners invite local musicians to play live music on the roof.


Moved by the moment, I picked up a copy of George Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London. After being on the road for nearly four months now, I really identified with the down and out part of Orwell's title. It's a nice little book, partly fiction but mostly memoir, capturing key ideas about his experiences with self-imposed poverty in the 1920s.

And the book commenced with a line from Chaucer -- relevant enough given a previous blog post -- so I splurged nine quid before heading on my way.

"O scathful harm, condicion of poverte!" Chaucer said. Time, and a few pages of reading, will tell whether my condition of poverty -- of the mind or the pocketbook -- has been increased or diminished by this purchase.

London Canal Museum from Regent's Canal

Next stop was the London Canal Museum, a three-story brick building which was a former ice warehouse adjacent to the canal.

The museum chronicles the history of barges and the canals they plied, ice and the horses who pulled it.

The ice was shipped from the south coast of Norway and then stored in warehouses along the canals in London. The horses, massive and dignified under their laboring burdens, pulled the ice-filled canal boats across the English countryside.

Tiverton Canal
photo courtesy of Eclipse Breaks

The earliest canals date to the mid 16th century; by the mid 20th century the practice of hauling ice had been eclipsed by refrigerators and motor vehicles.

Great Crested Newt
photo courtesy of Danni Thompson

Now a new generation of hipsters have begun using the barges for housing, work studios and, as is the case with Word on the Water, floating book shops.

There are also community groups interested in the preservation of the canals, hosting events as varied as Great Crested Newt surveys, art shows featuring canal-themed exhibitions, and towpath task forces to keep the canal banks free of pollution and debris.

The area around Regent's Canal is changing rapidly. My little walk about caught just a small taste of it.

Remembrance: Mortality and The Self

Even as a young girl and still today, I have been interested in the relationship between memory, mortality and The Self. Somewhat akin to Keats' musings about the song of the nightingale, this rhetorical pondering has fueled a lifetime of inquiry: What does it mean to live if one dies unremembered?

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Child
c 1972

Perhaps this is an existential calling -- the soul yearning to be known in a world of nearly eight billion. Or maybe it is the artist's pledge, to produce a work in such a way that its creator will be remembered by others, for the betterment of all. To leave this world a better place after one is gone: that is the memento mori of existence.

It is not personal but spiritual, a universal quest to rise above anonymity, to have strode upon the earth and be remembered.

After all, we know Geoffrey Chaucer for the tales he wrote, not for his work as Clerk of the King or as the Customs House Controller. Those latter were Chaucer's means to a living but the Canterbury Tales is a story for all time.

It is a bawdy 14th century story of pilgrims in search of a free meal, or a spiritual blessing. Those two could be synonymous but we won't know for sure until after dinner.

Chaucer as a pilgrim
Ellesmere Manuscript, c 1450
Huntington Library, San Marino, California

I have had a digital copy of Canterbury Tales open on my computer for several weeks now, the hard copy on a shelf in Canada, too ponderous to lug in my already over-stuffed suitcase. Like the pilgrims Chaucer writes about, this electronic copy of the Tales has been traveling far and wide on this, my 2018 adventure. Like Chaucer's narrator, I am a writer and a pilgrim in search of a story to tell. Now, I'm no Chaucer but surely I can aspire to spin a yarn like him.

"Here bygynneth the Book of the Tales of Caunterbury" ... or the adventures of Monday in London, whichever suits the reader better.

Thus my morning's walk commenced with reminders. The first: that the wars which tore Europe apart during the 20th century -- wars which caused the deaths of more than 100 million humans -- are never very far away from memory. These reminders of war are everywhere in The Netherlands and Belgium: in parks, on the sides of buildings, at church. Thus it is not surprising that their ubiquity surround the mindful here in London too, a city which endured the German onslaught twice in the last one hundred years.

This idea -- of remembering and mortality-- was brought home to me as I walked past the Holy Cross Church on Cromer Street in the heart of King's Cross this morning.

Holy Cross Church
Cromer Street
World War I memorial
photo courtesy of London Remembers

There, upon a high wall, appears the crucifixion surrounded by two columns containing thirty seven names each. They are the names of sons and husbands, fathers and brothers, those who died between 1914 and 1918 in that great and terrible war everyone thought would end all others.

The men, with good English names like Walter Barnes, John Ford, Percy King, Arthur Weekes, all died for England, for the world. To remember their sacrifice is to honor their lives. The world is the way it is -- better -- partly because of these men.

This is what I mean about memory and The Self. What would it mean for Percy King to have lived if he were to have died, indeed served and died, unremembered?

And so, in true genealogical fashion, I researched him.

Percy King was born in Marlyebone, a neighborhood in London just steps away from the memorial that honors him. He joined the 13th Battalion of the Gloucestershire Regiment, probably in 1914. This regiment was known as the Pioneers because their service involved building and repairing trenches in the forward areas of Flanders. It was a new kind of warfare which required pioneering strategies on the battlefield. The men dug tramways, constructed huts, cleaned battlefields and went on wiring expeditions. Percy King's battalion was one of the workhorses of the war.

Gloucestershire Field Report
Battles of the Somme
March 1918

In March 1918 -- just over one hundred years ago today -- the Gloucestershire regiment was crushed when the Germans mounted a massive offensive near Templeux-le-Fosse, a small village in the Somme department of northern France where the men were preparing fortifications. 

Percy King died on 27 March 1918, along with 300 other Pioneers during the infamous Battles of the Somme. The field report for that day notes the men were "heavily attacked"and "practically surrounded." In the military database, Percy King's casualty is simply listed as "died" in Flanders.

The Germans might have won that battle but they definitely lost the war. Hence the memorial and our collective remembering.

Like a soldier, I pushed on through the London rain. Chaucer had it right when he wrote "When in April the sweet showers fall." I have been in London a week and it has rained every day but one. 

But the British Library -- that amazing repository of knowledge which includes 12th century illuminated manuscripts, 8th century Chinese star charts and documents chronicling the 19th century suffragette activism of Sophia Duleep Singh -- is worth it.

Hulking across from St. Pancras train station, the BL's brutalist architecture appears daunting. Yet it holds the reminders to remember. It possesses the memento mori, documents of human life that remind us that though we will die, yet we do live.

marginalia likeness of Chaucer
in Thomas Hoccleve's
Regement of Princes
c 1411
British Library

There, in the gloomy light of the Sir John Ritblat Gallery, is Chaucer pointing the way. His appearance graces a page of Thomas Hoccleve's manuscript entitled Regement of Princes, a text chronicling the House of Lancaster in the early 15th century.

Hoccleve may have known Chaucer -- there is some speculation about that among scholars. Regardless, Hoccleve inserted Chaucer's likeness into this text next to lines which, translated out of the Middle English from which they were written, read "to put other men into remembrance of his persona." Hoccleve uses Chaucer to point the way toward remembering.

A recorded reading of Hoccleve's Middle English reveals the rhythmic quality even as it shows six hundred years of linguistic evolution.

Thus concludes a day of remembering -- of a scholar and a poet, a soldier and a girl who used to ride but now who writes.

Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.