favorite books

Probably because I am (was?) an English major, people often ask me about my favorite books--a question I don't find it easy to answer.

Wayne Booth says that books are like friends: each one offers a different experience. When you sit down with a book, you sit down with a particular type of experience. Rather than having favorite books, then, I have books that I return to again and again for particular types of experience. I have books for comfort (Little Women or An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott), books for nostalgia (Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery), books for hard thinking (anything by Kenneth Burke), books for not thinking (Ella Enchanted), books for fun (Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling), books for inspiration (Gifts from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindburgh or A Two-Part Invention by Madeleine L'Engle), and books for pure, unadulterated pleasure (Emma or Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen). All of these books provide me with the particular experience I need when I need it--they're all favorites in that sense, but I can't really call any of them my favorite book.

There are a few books, however, that I do at various times apply the title of favorite to when I have to answer the question. And they are these:

thinking: when i grow up

So, I've been wondering . . . when do you know you've become a grown-up?

Is it when you finish college? Is it when you get married? Have kids? Start a career? If it's those items, then my score is win, fail, fail, and . . . half a win?

This past week, as a part of my new job, I signed up for my own personal health insurance. At twenty-six years old, I finally have a full-time job with benefits. Yes, big moment. But, as visiting faculty, I am not at the beginning end of a long career. My contract will be up in a year. I still need to think about what's next and my life definitely still feels (somewhat) wide open.

I remember when I was about thirteen or fourteen, we had a substitute, Bro. L., teach our Sunday School class. Bro. L. was a lawyer, and he wanted to get to know us a little by asking us what we wanted to be when we grew up. My classmates mumbled things like, "Um, I'm not sure," and "I think I want to be a nurse," or "I'm going to be a dentist." We were in middle school, and no one was very confident with their answers. When it was my turn, I said, "I want to be a mom."

Bro. L. wasn't satisfied by this and said, "Well, what else do you want to be?"

"A teacher, I guess," I replied. But I was a little offended. Was being a mom not good enough? I mean, really, if you can't say you just want to be a mom when you're sitting in a Mormon church, where can you say it?

I'm not offended by this anymore, however. I realize now, more than ten years after this incident, that not everyone graduates from college pregnant with a second child like my mom did, and so Bro. L. was perhaps right to ask what else I wanted to be.

I'm glad I became a teacher.

But, oddly, I still feel like I don't have an answer to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" (Okay, I do have an answer, and it's still, "I want to be a mom." But, again, I hear Bro. L's voice, "Well, what else?) I figure, maybe it's okay that I'm still not completely certain because in a shaky economy, I'll probably get to move around a bit job-wise, even if I won't change careers seven times in my life.

Over the past few days, I've been mulling over the options.

1. I could head off to graduate school next fall, pursue a PhD in rhetoric and composition, and become a professor. This is a path that makes sense, and likely a path I'll end up following.

But here are my other recent ideas:

2. I could be a librarian! I would love to work at a school, or, even better,  at a city library where I could read books to kids who sit in rapt attention in a circle around me on a soft, plush carpet. (Yes, I know this isn't what librarians do all day . . . or maybe at all.) Simmons College even has an awesome program where you can pursue an MLS and a MA in children's literature at the same time. Google, however, told me that the prospects for librarians aren't much better than the prospects for academics. So, . . . on to my next career idea.

3. I could be a farmer!

Yes, I'm serious.

(When I told my sister the other day that I wanted to be a farmer, she laughed at me.)

But, I mean, really, wouldn't it be awesome to be a farmer? When I was nine and obsessed with horses like almost every other nine-year-old girl on the planet, I wanted to be a farmer badly. I sort of really wanted to marry a farmer too. (And, yes, the Little House series were my favorite books growing up--see previous post.)

I could be part of the young-hipster-sustainable-organic farming movement, and I could make delicious food from my farm, maybe open a cafe, learn how to can food, set up a booth at the farmer's market every year, sell my food as part of a co-op. I could have chickens as pets! What could be better?

Okay, maybe I'm romanticizing it a little, but, really, I kind of actually want to do this.

4. The only other option I came up with was: I could be a writer for children or young adults (again, re: I want to be Laura Ingalls Wilder). I've wanted to do this since I was young. But 1) it's hard to get published and 2) I'm too scared to let anyone else read my writing and 3) I'm not a very good writer. So I'd have to overcome a few obstacles, but hey, it's an option, right? I mean I was educated in the same English program as Stephenie Meyer, so I've got that going for me. (Ha.)

If only I weren't an idealistic English major, I might be able to come up with something that has the potential to actually provide for me financially and keep me in the population of Americans that has health benefits. Hmmm.

I could be an . . . an . . . accountant? (All I can hear is that line from Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, "An accountant. According to the word, it must be a cross between a counter and a mutant.") That'll make me money.

And, then, when I start my encore career, I can be a farmer who writes kids books. Right?

the home-maker

Earlier this summer, I read Dorothy Canfield Fisher's The Home-Maker, originally published in 1924. Despite its title and publication date, it's quite a forward-thinking novel (not that that stopped me from feeling embarrassed when people saw me reading a book that was ostensibly about home-making).

The Home-Maker is the story of an efficient, energetic housewife, Eva, who is utterly depressed with her life and utterly unfit for motherhood. Despite this, she devotes herself to her housekeeping and family life in order to fulfill traditional societal expectations for her. Although Eva is viewed by her neighbors throughout the novel as an unimpeachable and perfect mother, her children are completely stifled, stressed, and anxious around her, to the point that they literally become sick. Her husband, Lester, is also unhappy. He is a very insufficient breadwinner who cannot seem to make his way in the career world.

One day, Lester is fired from his job. Feeling he has failed his family in every possible way and that the most he can now do for them is die and let them collect life insurance money, Lester decides to commit suicide and make it look like an accident. But, the perpetually unsuccessful Lester is not successful at suicide either. Instead of dying, he becomes paralyzed and can no longer work.

Eva, always the perfect wife and mother, makes the sacrifice of entering the workforce to support her paralytic husband and her three children. As expected, she finds she's very good in the workplace and her husband in turn finds he's very good at home with the children. After working for a little while, Eva's personality changes. She becomes more relaxed, her relationships with her husband and children improve, and the family begins to genuinely enjoy their time together. Conversely, Lester benefits from being home and from watching his children grow and develop. He becomes a more attentive father and contributes to the family in ways he couldn't before.

Although the book is occasionally didactic and somewhat predictable (there is, however, a bit of surprise toward the end), I thought Fisher still managed to create a fairly compelling novel that is well worth a read.

In particular, I enjoyed how Fisher examines what it means to be a parent. This book is not really about liberation for women, although that's a theme. Really, it's more a book about liberation for families and individuals. Fisher argues that each member of a family inherently has specific talents and abilities, and that a person's role within the family should be dictated by what they have to give, rather than by what they are traditionally expected to do. Fisher makes it clear that she feels good parenting is a difficult and complicated process that requires respecting children as individuals with wills and personalities of their own, and not seeing them as creatures to be "managed." She recognizes the skill and intelligence it takes to parent well and to truly make a home, and is therefore just as passionate about celebrating the role of home-maker as she is about pushing for tolerance for working mothers. I find it interesting that Fisher seems against the idea of passing the parental role on to someone outside of the family circle. For Fisher, each family needs to figure out for themselves a lifestyle that respects and nourishes each member of that family, including the children.

P. S. Although The Home-Maker is, I think, still under copyright, you can access Fisher's Understood Betsy at Project Gutenberg. I actually read this book first, and stumbled onto The Home-Maker in an attempt to read more of this overlooked author. Understood Betsy is a children's novel about an overly-coddled little girl who learns how to take care of herself and develops some self-esteem. It's even more didactic than The Home-maker, but worth a read for the hilarious opening chapter alone.

around the web

Technology and Isolation
Waiting for Dave, as Told by His Lamp

The post above is commentary on this commercial by Ericsson, a Swedish telecommunications company. It's a creepy look at how technology can snuff out real relationships, and Krulwich makes some valid points about what's wrong with this picture of the future. But, hey, wouldn't it be fun if your carpet could tell you how long it's been since it was vacuumed or if your appliances used status updates and winky faces to communicate amongst themselves? It's like Beauty and the Beast for the 21st Century. I sort of love that.



Facebook and Google+
Zuckerberg Finds Fans on Google+

Zuckerberg apparently joined to check out his competition and is now the most popular person on Google+. Maybe he'll get hooked . . .

Personally, I'm all ready to drop Facebook for Google+. I'm tired of receiving updates on "friends" that I haven't spoken to in years and never really knew well to begin with. It seems that most of my news feed consists of updates from people on the periphery of my social circle. I also could do without notifications that someone has answered a question about someone else or that my distant acquaintances have adopted pigs or begun to herd sheep, or whatever it is people do in Farmville. You can't control your news feed sufficiently in Facebook for my tastes.

Google+'s Circles is the best idea to hit social networking in a long time. Granted, Facebook has a similar option available with lists, but Google+ makes it simpler to share what you want with who you want, ultimately allowing for the option of greater privacy and more meaningful sharing online. As I see it, Google+ is a cleaner, more grown-up version of Facebook. Although I imagine it might take a while for certain crowds to migrate, I think eventually many will realize that Facebook isn't really what they need or want out of a social network. Google+ allows you to interact with people online the same way you do in real life: on a person-to-person or group-to-group level. So, from here on out, if I'm ever suddenly overwhelmed by the need to let 400+ "friends" know what I had for breakfast, I'll use Twitter. Otherwise, Google+ should meet my needs for interacting with family, friends, and other groups online quite well.

On the other hand, I can't see myself deleting my Facebook until more people move to Google+, so here's hoping.

The Royal Couple
Royal Couple Are Adored from a Distance on Brief Visit to California

Fans paid $400 for a chance to watch Prince William play polo — $4,000 to join the couple for lunch.

Erica Stanislawski, 16, who said her father was a longtime member of the Santa Barbara Polo and Racquet Club, said that her interest was strictly about polo. “Polo is a great game,” she began.

Her friend Lauren Lantry, 16, interrupted. “I’m excited to see famous people!” she said. “The prince is really cute. And she’s the real deal and super-pretty.”

Thank Goodness!
Rebecca Black to Release "Friday" Follow-Up

Rebecca Black will release a new single next week. I know, I know. Try to contain your excitement.

winnie-the-pooh & the house at pooh corner

Recently, I re-read Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne. Although I first read these books as a teenager, not as a child, I was well-prepared to love them thanks to Disney and some shortened storybooks about Pooh that I was very attached to as a child. (I may have watched Disney's cartoon about Pooh being stuck in Rabbit's hole about a million times as a child.) When I finally discovered the books themselves, I was delighted not just to find my favorite stories, but to see that A. A. Milne was a wise, witty, ironic author. It is clear that he loved telling and writing these stories as much as his son must have loved hearing them. I liked the way he included his conversations with his son in the book. You feel like you're listening in on their bedtime ritual. I'd love to read these books out loud to a child.

Obviously, one of the best things about these books are the characters. Although the Bear of Little Brain himself is always endearing, you really can't top Eeyore in my book. How can it get better than a gloomy, bitter, attention-starved stuffed donkey? It doesn't hurt that he also gets most of the best lines. One of my favorite Eeyore moments occurs when Eeyore suddenly realizes in the middle of his thank-you speech that a party he thought was for himself is actually for Pooh bear:

"I might have known," said Eeyore, "After all, one can't complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said 'Bother!' The Social Round. Always something going on."

I love it. Poor old Eeyore.

Another wonderful thing about these books are the original illustrations by E. H. Shepherd. (I don't think they were in color originally, but the copy I read had color illustrations.)

And now, for your reading pleasure, here are a few of the final lines from Winnie-the-Pooh. Enjoy! (And then go read the books yourself!)

Pooh and Piglet walked home thoughtfully together in the golden evening, and for a long time they were silent."When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?" "What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?" "I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet. Pooh nodded thoughtfully. "It's the same thing," he said.