At first I didn’t think there was anything special about Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson, but then our threesome book group discussed it. The main theme, that teenagers must make adult decisions about their lives well before they are ready, isn’t particularly original. The repercussions of a particular decision on the teens involved, their child, and their parents are well told from each character’s point of view.
But this is so emphatically a black family. In the third sentence we are told they are black and their race is emphasized throughout the book. “Black fingers pulling violin bows…dark lips around horns, a small brown girl…” Does this emphasis on the race of the family add to or subtract from a universal story? What is the point of this emphasis? One possibility is that Woodson wants to counteract the current onslaught of books about blacks as poverty stricken, blacks as victims, blacks as slaves. Instead, we have a successful loving middle-class family dealing with not so unusual problems.
One of my sister readers felt strongly that the portrayal of the family as black was not overdone. The characters were just being described, as characters are, and it is we the white readers who were hypersensitive to the black details. The other felt that a large percentage of readers would not be surprised to meet a successful intact black family and that the emphasis on their race was unnecessary.
Looking for something fun and casual, I rediscovered an old friend, Peter Mayle of Provence fame. I didn’t realize he has written another series, the caper series, where Sam, his rakish, genial detective, is hot on the trail of the criminal, but also not above doing something, how shall we say, a bit illegal himself.
No violence he emphatically states, and there isn’t any. What there is of course, is plenty of superb French food, first class wine, and the incomparable superiority of all things French. The Vintage Caper, where three million dollars of stolen premier cru wine must be found, is very appealing to us wine country folks, but so is The Marseille Caper which takes off with the same delightful characters.
Not so into fine living are the stories in the intrepid Miss Kopp series by Amy Stewart. Aptly named, Miss Kopp is a female detective living in modest circumstances in New Jersey in the early 1900’s.
The NJ town names appealed to me as that is where I grew up, but I soon realized that Hackensack of the 1910’s had little in common with Hackensack of the 1950’s when I knew it.
The novel I read, Miss Kopp Just Won’t Quit, was relaxing yet informative. As expected, Miss Kopp, very much ahead of her time, had to put up with the derision and lack of respect by many of the politicians who controlled her department. But I was startled by the cases she dealt with. I hadn’t realized the extent of the powerlessness of women and what the implications were. Stewart, an obvious feminist, calmly tells her story and brings these situations to life. This series is historical fiction based on a family of three sisters.
When you get tired of easy reading, here is a challenge for you. Optic Nerve by Argentinian Maria Gainza, translated from the Spanish by Thomas Bunstead, is a book with no plot, no character development, no linear time line. It is described as autofiction; that is, it is written as an autobiography, but isn’t true.
We have an observer, a young (?) woman, who riffs on artwork that comes her way. There is a painting that appeals to her; she comments on it; then there are some acute observations about the artist; then there is what the art piece makes her think about. That particular chapter comes to an end. She encounters another art piece and the stream of consciousness inspired by it starts again. This structure actually works.
This entertaining and instructive book will appeal to someone interested in the visual arts. It can be read “as is” – just learn from the information given and enjoy the perceptive vignettes. Or – spend time looking up the painters mentioned, especially the obscure unheard of ones, and discover something. I especially liked the fact that she included the evoked thoughts and emotions of the observer as part of the “seeing” process.
As a reader, I was pleased that she quoted from literature to describe the personal attraction a person might feel towards a certain artwork: A.S. Byatt calls it “the kick galvanic;” Stendhal, the “fierce palpitation of the heart;” and Gainza doesn’t do badly herself. “It grabbed me nonetheless. More than that: it unsettled me.”
I recently enjoyed a visit to the Honolulu Art Museum which is open by appointment. A painting that unsettled me was this juxtaposition of Emily Dickinson and the modern rapper Rakim Allah. I recognized her right away – but him?? And together??
The artist, Douglas Bourgeois, says, “I paired them together because of their individual voices as poets. Their oppositeness – being from different centuries, different sexes, different races, with different styles of expression – is eased by their both being true to the rhythm of verse.” Hmmm…poetry? I think of rap as misogynistic and nasty. I might open my mind on this subject if I could understand the words.
An art form that is encouraged and prevalent in Hawaii is the humble mural done on ceramic blocks in shopping centers, restaurants, parks, apartment buildings. We sought this one out when we read about its subject matter.
The featured white tern is a bird whose nesting habits we monitor while we are visiting. It is a seabird that is fond of Waikiki and nests in trees right along the most tourist traveled avenues.
Optic sounds found!
Good work, Diane! Once again you have invited me to share in the reading you have done recently. Your writing style is just delicious!