On The Road by Jack Kerouac

I found this little treasure again on the community bookshelf at the university. I am typically drawn to read the classics and especially love learning about history through fictional stories. On The Road by Jack Kerouac depicts the misadventures of Sal Paradise at the height of the American beat movement in the late 1940s. Sal is a fairly young man who restlessly traverses the nation from New York to San Francisco and back in search of good times. Kerouac consistently uses words like "dig", "jazz", and "kicks" to fully immerse the reader in the sentiment of the time. Ultimately Sal sticks close to his friend, Dean Moriarty, who embodies the frenzy and trance-like state of mind these cats are always hoping to achieve. The height of their adventures leads on a road trip to Mexico City where Dean hopes to get a quick divorce from his second wife in order to marry a third. Spoiler alert~ Sal and Dean live large spending all their money on beer, weed, and prostitutes while digging some loud Mambo music. Then Sal gets dysentery and decides to go back to New York once he's better and settle down.

For me, I love the idea of this book, but in truth it was a huge disappointment. Sal has returned from fighting in Europe (WWII) and doesn't seem to have any direction. With all his energy and time, he lives to experience life. The problem is that he never really invests in others or settles any where long enough to have a meaningful experience. If anything, I get the feeling he's a mooch or burden to anyone with whom he comes in contact. His poor aunt sends him money anytime he finds himself in a bind. At times it frustrated me to see how irresponsible and self-involved all the main characters are. How disingenuous to portray transcendentalism and authentic vitality through men who have no roots, bail in a jam, steal, get high, sleep around, and seek to be satisfied through external sensations. All in all, I found it terribly boorish.

I will say that Kerouac has some lovely writing skills, but really there are only glimmers in this tale. He can string a couple of good sentences together, but it can't hold a paragraph with sorry content afloat. For instance, in one of Dean's rants, he says, "...Time stops. He's filling empty space with the substance of our lives, confessions of his bellybottom strain, remembrance of ideas, rehashes of old blowing. He has to blow across bridges and come back and do it with such infinite feeling soul-exploratory for the tune of the moment that everybody knows it's not the tune that counts but IT." And no, that's not IT~ information technology, but a certain intangible "it". To me, this gives any potential readers and insight into what the beat generation was all about. It's complex, skims real human emotion, and is particularly nonsensical. In a moment of real clarity, Sal admits, "I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion." This could summarize the whole book. As you may guess, I'd only recommend it to someone who really feels the need to read all American "classics". Otherwise, just watch a stoner movie and imagine that it's taking place in 1947. It will save you time.

Phantastes by George Macdonald

Phantastes was given to me by my younger sister. It is the fourth book by George Macdonald that I have read, and it lived up to my expectations. Macdonald wastes no time from taking you from the mundane to the extraordinary. The main character is a young man named Anados. He embarks on a mysterious and glorious expedition through Faerie Land. In his wanderings he encounters dangers, beauties, wisdom, love, and music in marvelous settings. He meets enchanted trees, spirited children, lowly ogres, sub-terrestrial goblins, lovely maidens, dancing statues, stately knights, and greedy trolls. It is quite an adventure.

Macdonald distinguishes himself from other fantasy writers by incorporating both prose and poetry into his works.  His rich language provides a vivid experience for the reader; poems and songs enhance his storytelling. Macdonald even takes time to include short stories into his text. For instance, Anodos wanders into a castle's library and spends countless days reading the books he finds. As the narrator, he recounts a poem and a story which were meaningful to him.  Rather than detracting from the main plot, these asides elevate his version of traditional-style fairy tales. My favorite attribute of Macdonald’s writing style is how his stories are subtly infused with Christian faith. I will not give away the ending, but he gives a wonderful interpretation on death and afterlife. It is simply beautiful and makes me ever so hopeful for a life after death like the one he has imagined.

This perhaps should not be one’s first exposure to George Macdonald. It was for my sister, and it did not quite appeal to her the way it would to a seasoned Macdonald reader.  I recommend At the Back of the North Wind or The Princess and the Goblins (if fairy tales intrigue you).  Both are great reads for those who love imaginative fiction. Save Phantastes for your second or third Macdonald read.

Villette by Charlotte Bronte

Lucy Snowe is a young woman who lives with her godmother, Mrs. Bretton, and her son, Graham Bretton. For a period of time she happily observes, though rarely participates, in the family's excitement. The introduction of a pixie-like child named Polly who temporarily stays with the family adds a new dynamic to this oddly pieced together family. Alas, as time goes by, Lucy sets out to provide for herself first becoming a caretaker for an elderly woman. This short episode ends with the woman's death causing Lucy to pursue a new occupation. Quite unpredictably, she leaves England for the Continent. Her destination is Villette, the capital city of Labassecour (a fictional francophone country). There she is hired to be an English teacher by Mme Beck, a directress of a women's boarding school. While in Villette, Lucy makes new friends, has old friendships restored, and even encounters the ghost that haunts the old school. Rather than Lucy's interactions taking center stage in this novel, it's Lucy herself who becomes the primary subject for the reader. She shares the depths of her heart, the ardor of her Protestant faith, and thoughtful reflections on her interactions with those in Villette.

This is a challenging book review for me. Have you ever loved a book so much that you compared others to it? Such was the case with Jane Eyre. This being the second novel I've read penned by Charlotte Bronte, I yielded to comparison more than I wish. Why? Because this book is written in a different style with a distinctly different purpose. It's easy at first to draw parallels between Jane Eyre & Lucy Snowe; both claim to be no beauties and seem to have no immediate family who cares for them. Bronte distinguishes Jane by giving her a fantastic tale, romance, and a seemingly flawless personality. Bronte's intentions with Lucy were quite different; Lucy wasn't meant to be a spectacular protagonist in the same way as Jane (most easily illustrated by Bronte's choice to title the book Villette~ not Lucy Snowe). The reader seems constantly impressed that Lucy is an observer while those around her are living the traditional story. Yet what matters are Lucy's own thoughts. We learn of her modesty, sensibility, and keen awareness of whom she is (including her strengths and deficiencies). She loves like any woman, but her reason prevents her from ever hoping or expecting a mutual affection in romance (she personifies her Reason frequently when it is particularly ungracious with her heart). She prizes friendship and honest living; at one point she turns down a comfortable occupation serving her aristocratic friend in the hopes that one day she may save enough money as a teacher to open her own school. It's odd, though, because I wouldn't say she is fiercely independent or highly ambitious. I had yet to mention Lucy's friend M. Paul Emanuel, a professor of French literature. The introduction of his personage creates an opportunity for Lucy to be better known to the reader; he is quite her foil and compliment at different times. He sees her quite differently than anyone else, and at times, I believe inaccurately. Though uncomfortable at times, he always is the source of tests and trials which lead to Lucy's confusion, frustration, amusement, and sometimes a habit to avoid him. I have a tendency to go on, so to conclude, one said that Bronte's novel is celebrated not for its plot but for her ability to acutely trace Lucy's psychology.

On one personal preference, I'd like to comment on Bronte's usage of the French language. She used French dialogue and plenty of French words which have been incorporated into the English language to convey with some authenticity that Lucy lived in a francophone country. I would submit, though, that the amount of French dialogue would make anyone without the ability to read it quite fatigued by frequently depending on the footnotes for translation. As for me, I was perturbed more by switching to French dialogue and then abruptly returning to English because Bronte wanted to communicate the content of a French conversation more quickly with the reader. I would have preferred the French conversations to be wholly French; though I don't know what kind of book that would have made, and I doubt it could have been popular. Either way, I'd say Bronte used too much or too little French.

As for recommendations~ if you are in the market to read a Bronte book, please try Jane Eyre first. It is miraculous & wonderful. If you are the kind of person who would read anything a Bronte ever wrote, you should try Villette. I'd also recommend this to ladies who have an affinity for European francophone culture.

Au Revoir to All That Food, Wine, and the End of France by Michael Steinberger

I spotted this book in a bookstore at a London train station. At the time, the price in pounds was a bit steep for me to make an impulsive purchase so I waited to return to the states to snag a copy from amazon.com. The tag line of the book is "Food, Wine, and the End of France"~ quite an ominous assertion. Michael Steinberger, a longtime wine columnist and American Francophile, spends the better part of the 2000s investigating the decline of France's culinary domination and world renown. His expertise on the preparation of haute cuisine is complimented extremely well by the research he conducted and interviews he administered to chefs, journalists, farmers, food critics, and entrepreneurs in the food industry. Steinberger educates the reader on the history of French cuisine beginning with the inaugural French cookbook, Le Cuisinier Francois, published in 1651 and continuing up the height of the nouvelle cuisine movement in the late 1960s. In his own words, he states that, "food became a source of gratification, a noble calling, a subject of impassioned debate, a means to political power, and a point of national pride." However, in recent years the market for the finest quality restaurants has decayed, and there are a number of contributing factors. Most notably he cites the economic crisis France entered in the 1980s under the socialist president Francois Mitterrand and sustained through the administration of his successor, the soft-left statist Jacques Chirac. The country has struggled with sluggish growth and high unemployment complicated further by ethnic unrest, the failure of the French university system, and overall disinterest in preserving culture. Specific challenges threatened France's top chefs; the introduction and questionable standards of the Michelin Guide, discrepancies between the value-added tax (VAT) applied to fast food restaurants vs. traditional restaurants (5.5% for McDonald's & 19.6% for l'Auberge du Pont de Collonges), government regulation in production of cheeses and wines, and the rise of inventive and talented chefs abroad (especially Spain and Japan). The book ends on a hopeful note highlighting the work of chefs who aren't after the highly coveted 3 stars as well as restaurateurs who employ Maghreb youths, a community that is ostracized by the French and constantly have unemployment rates up to 50%.  This seems to be the obvious solution for restaurants scrambling to keep full staffs. Overall all it is a thoughtful explanation of French gourmandism underscored by Steinberger's quest to reveal what has threatened to destroy France's gastronomic tradition.

I happened to be interested more in the political aspect of this book when I picked it up, but I was happily surprised by all I learned. Truly my knowledge of haute cuisine was limited to a class field trip to l'Auberge du Pont de Collonges (Paul Bocuse's flagship restaurant in Lyon) and the Pixar film Ratatouille (which depicts the roles of chefs and food preparation stations in the kitchen with surprising accuracy). If I have partaken of an AOC wines, it's quite by accident since I wouldn't have been aware that it was different from a vin de table or a vin de pays. I was grateful that Steinberger didn't take on the anti-globalism perspective especially dealing with McDonald's (read Jihad vs. McWorld if that's what you are into). Going into reading this book, I knew (and witnessed firsthand) that France had become the second largest market for the enormous fast food chain (following America, of course). He justly held France as the responsible party for what appears to be (and much to the chagrin of many a chef) a self-inflicted decline.

As to the writing style, I found it easy, enjoyable, and quick to read. He didn't dwell on describing food to the point that I was drooling, but did so with enough accuracy that I understood what he was describing. If anything, I think his use of the word "eponymous" was a bit exhausting, but that's just nitpicking. I'd say my favorite parts of this book were when he was quoting chefs~ some calling France as communist as Cuba, some citing Rousseau (who wouldn't indulge in rich food) as their inspiration to become a chef, and some complaining about government standards then defending the importance of keeping bad rules in place. My favorite quote was from Jacques Puisais, an oenologist and writer. When discussing how the French have traded their croissants for cornflakes, he said that cornflakes were "a miserable product, consumed in solitude, lending a depressing inhumanity to the morning meal." Ha! So dramatic...

I would recommend this book to Francophiles, foodies, folks who enjoy a non-stressful read on politics, and anyone planning to travel to France. For food lovers, he refers to dozens of cookbooks and books about food by experts which may spark a follow up read.

The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger

The Devil Wears Prada is a classic example of a popular book turned summer movie hit. For me, I dodge books with these cutsie covers and titles that draw in fad readers, but I made an exception with this one. Why? I found it to read for free a week before a beach vacation. If you've seen the movie, than the plot of the book isn't terribly different. Andrea Sachs recently graduated from Brown and dreams of one day writing for the New Yorker. After the oh-so-predictable backpacking through Europe summer and then a dash to Thailand and India with her college boyfriend, Andrea sends her resume to dozens of NY publishing companies. By sheer luck she lands an interview at Runway magazine where the chief editor Miranda Priestly is seeking a new personal assistant. Though Andrea knows nothing about fashion, she takes the job hoping that it will lead to a brighter future as a writer and believing that she'd be stupid not to take it. Unlike the film, Miranda is more ruthless and downright mean even stooping to lying just to make those around her feel inferior. Short of a small biography explaining that Miranda came from a poor, devout Jewish family in London, there are no other endearing or personable moments or qualities revealed. Also in stark contrast to the film, Andrea never achieves anything successfully thus never receiving any praise from any co-workers. Alex, Andrea's boyfriend, is a very wholesome guy who teaches at an inner-city school where he hopes to make a difference in the lives of his elementary students. Andrea's best friend Lily is working on her doctorate at Columbia, but she typically appears in the story binge drinking and hooking up with charming fellows who don't warrant first names but rather titles like Freudian Guy. Lily's cameos are all quite shocking and range from DUIs, public nudity, and bringing strange men home with her. Throughout Andrea's time at Runway, she inadvertently distances herself from her boyfriend and neglects her friend who's in the midst of serious alcoholism. Furthermore, she walks the fine line of pursuing her dream at this temporary job and falling into the temptation to indulge in the extravagant life of the fashion world.

I had a fun time reading this novel because it's kind of mindless and reads quickly. I expected to like Andrea more, but was constantly struggling with several areas. Most importantly she didn't try to learn anything about business or nature of running a large publication or even talk to the writers on staff. It was clear that Andrea did not have much free time, but she didn't do anything remotely close to promoting her career. Though it was realistic, she had a terribly bad attitude at her job and demonstrated just as much to those around her by constantly rolling her eyes and sighing deeply and making endless sarcastic comments. Her language was littered with plenty of obscenities, and even drops the F-bomb on her boss while quitting her job at a runway show in Paris. Andrea never seemed to take the high road. She even makes a few digs on Southerners while Miranda throws a party at the Met for her husband's family. She personified an entitled and elitist Ivy League alumna by saying she didn't study such and such or write this and that to be fetching coffee or picking up dry cleaning. I found her really tacky and immature when she would use dirty plates to serve Miranda food, wipe off her hands on Miranda's outgoing dry cleaner clothes, spend the companies money irresponsibly, and take a long time on errands to talk to Alex and Lily on the phone. Sure she had a crummy job, but I think she made it more difficult on herself by being so rebellious. Sadly her bad behavior gets her rewarded in the end. She earns her new job by writing short cynical stories relating to what she had experience at Runway. Unlike the film, the excellent boyfriend dumps her, and that was my only solace at the end of a long book with a cranky and bitter girl.

On a more objective note, I expected there to be more information on both magazine publication and fashion. As a personal assistant, Andrea did not have much contact with magazine contributors- I hoped to have learned a bit more about how the chief editor did her job. Short of a few catalogue-style descriptions of clothes or lists of designer names, I didn't learn anything new about the fashion world. It seemed like the author didn't really know much about the two industries on which her story focused.

Since it was free to read and I'm on vacation, it was alright for entertainment. I would recommend you see the movie since Andrea wins a couple of small battles, quits her job with a bit more dignity, and all ends happily ever after.