Other Women's Stories: What I'm reading this week (4/16/18)

Last week I finished

The reviews I agonize most over are for books I loved and books that everyone has read. Hillbilly Elegy is both. For some reason, this book has become a political read, and it's been billed as "the book that explains why people voted for President Trump." Those are the precise reasons I wasn't interested in reading it when it came out. I know why folks voted for President Trump, if you don't, just ask me. Add to that what has been shared of the plot on various blogs in reference to the domestic violence, so even though it was one of my favorite genres, I decided it wasn't for me. But then as often happens with extremely popular books, I decided I had to know why so much was being said about it. I bought it on a great Kindle sale, and I was sucked in on the very first page. I loved reading it. But where do I even start in reviewing it? A short synopsis: J. D. Vance is the child and grandchild of Kentucky "hillbilly" transplants in the Rust Belt (Ohio). In this memoir/social science book, he details the events of his life in the white working class environment, including domestic violence, low income, chaotic family life, and a drug-dependent parent. Vance effortlessly blends memoir with sociology, using his life and family experiences to show the problems of the white working class as a whole. I've never read a book that so expertly uses personal stories to demonstrate societal issues. This is a book I've been living for the15 years I've been deeply involved with a family of nearly identical circumstances. I nodded knowingly dozens of times when Vance explained his childhood and his mother's poor life management. For much of the book I could not figure out why this book shocked so many people; then I realized the obvious: not everyone has seen this kind of lifestyle in action. I've had a front-row seat for a long time. I wasn't shocked; seeing what I've seen, there's not much that can shock me anymore. I was just so relieved to have that part of my life explained to the world for me, because I knew I'd never have the courage (or energy) to do it myself. The way Vance told his story was the perfect balance of personal angst and anthropological distance. The violence so many bloggers alluded to was presented more anecdotally than immersively. Because the real story was not what happened to Vance growing up (the chaos, the violence, the constant change, the parade of father figures); the real story was that his childhood experience was not unique. He takes us beyond such books as The Glass Castle or Angela's Ashes and asks us how this happened and how we can fix it. This book asks for engagement. He shows where and how the government has failed its citizens with entitlement programs and where society has failed its children by not valuing work. Vance exposes some hard truths that should change the way people vote. He's saying that throwing money and even sympathy at the social problems of the white working class is not changing things for the better, but for the worse. Unfortunately, Vance is able to offer no answers. But it's not his place to. He was one of the lucky ones who survived that kind of life and became a successful man. We as Americans love these underdog stories. We love the kid who was raised by a drug-addicted mom and a gun-toting mamaw who grew up to go to Yale Law School. We also love to put people into boxes according to type and create new terminology and laws and government programs to help them. We love to blame people, but we equally love not to let anyone know we are blaming, so we hide behind our programs and know that we're good, caring people. Well, I've seen firsthand how this attitude plays out. So has Vance. I've been looking for the answers for years, as my heart breaks for those close to me who can't seem to find their way out of the cycle of chaos. I've seen how government programs make things worse, how drugs become a religion, how being in want and blaming everyone but oneself for the cause of it creates a haze of denial that doesn't dissipate for generations. I've bought a kid shoes because he had none, a coat because he had none, and watched his parents buy three cell phones because they no longer had to worry about buying shoes or coats. I've bought a laptop when someone finally completed a GED and enrolled herself in tech school, only to find out she'd pawned it a couple of weeks later. I've bailed the father out of jail for domestic abuse and faced the child who wanted to ask, why did you do that? because right then he hated his father and hated me, too. I've left church thinking I should give everything I have to solve the materials problems in this family, and I've also left it knowing that "the poor will always be with you." The only thing I've learned for sure is that blame doesn't help and neither does sympathy. So, no answers from Vance or from me, but the book did what all great books do: it started a national dialogue. It bought to light those living in society's shadows, those who are sure they are powerless because they feel hopeless. I guess frank talk is where we start. Just so long as it's not where we stop. My rating: 5 stars.

At the same time I was being blown away by Hillbilly Elegy, I was reading and being blown away by Little Fires Everywhere. This book was at the top of every list at the end of 2017, and now I know why. The book is so masterful. The plotting is so precise that it builds and builds and builds almost until the last page. It reminded me very much of the way Beartown was written, the third-person omniscient narration that gives you a taste of everyone's thoughts, makes for a complex and engaging story. It's hard to describe what this book is about, and for at least three-quarters of it, you're not even sure what it's about. Not to say the plot is being held from you, but it's still building. Overall, I guess you could say it's the story of families. There is the upper-middle-class Richardson family, Mom, Dad, Lexi, Trip, Moody, and Izzy, each with their own levels of personal awareness. There is single mom and artist Mia and her daughter Pearl who have just moved into the neighborhood and befriends each of the Richardson kids. And there is a custody battle over a little Chinese girl. This is a book where there are no absolutes. What one person takes for granted as truth or right, another whole rejects without a second glance. In other words, it's just like life. What makes a family? What's the proper way to live and provide for your children? Who has the power? What role does personal responsibility have in a family life? Ng makes us see there is so much there below the surface, and even though we're navigating this stuff every day, we don't necessarily realize we are. Don't let the plot as I've described it turn you off. It's not a book about kids, though most of the main characters are kids. It's not a book about race, though that is part of it, too. The wonder of this book is more in how the story is told and how the reader interacts with it than what's being told. I loved this book, and I'm sure to go back to read her previous novel, Everything I Never Told You. I can't imagine this one not being on my top ten list at the end of the year. My rating: 5 stars.

Awhile ago, I ran across America's First Daughter, an historical fiction novel that imagines the life of Martha (Patsy) Jefferson Randolph, daughter of President Thomas Jefferson. The ratings for this one are stellar on Amazon. You know I have a love-hate relationship with historical fiction that reimagines the life of a historic figure. On the one hand, I'm drawn to it like a moth to candlelight, on the other, I'm deeply uneasy about anyone recreating the life of someone famous (or even someone common) because you could never be completely accurate. An author's biases, then, are what I'm scouting for the entire time I'm trying to enjoy a book like this one. A side note (that's relevant, I promise): I detest when books like this put the author's notes on procedure in the back of the book. I spend the whole book wondering now how did she know that? where did this information come from? did this even happen? It drives me to distraction. Put it all up front, people! Put the skeptic's mind at ease--or allow them to bail--up front, don't make them wait for almost 600 pages to know how the research was conducted! So, that accurate history limbo is where I was stuck for 19 CDs until I was told that the information for the book came from the copious amount of letters amongst members of the Jefferson family. I knew the book was based on Thomas Jefferson's letters, but I doubted the very personal stories of Martha's life would have come from his letters. And frankly, I doubted they'd come from hers. People neither then nor now talk so openly about such private matters as what goes on in a long marriage or behind bedroom doors. Also, I was uncomfortable with how politically correct the authors were with issues of slavery and race. They seemed determined to make Jefferson out to be a hypocritical bigot and made all the "good guys" anti-slavery. Jefferson's views on slavery were never fully explored, and that was a glaring oversight for me. He proclaimed he was anti-slavery, but he kept slaves, this is what everyone knows. What we don't know is how he held those opposing viewpoints. The truth is likely more complex than "he was a hypocritical bigot." That's unfair and sloppy. The whole thing was a bit heavy-handed for me, and the pro-slavery side was not presented because it was just so obviously wrong. But this was Virginia, early 1800s, if you're going to tell the story, tell all of the story! This felt intellectually dishonest, and I didn't trust the book because of it. My other big problem with this book is how dramatic it was. There was SO. MUCH. DRAMA. I was very ready for the book to be over about halfway through. It wasn't a bad book, and if you don't have a problem with present-day authors taking liberty with those who could not or did not speak for themselves when they had the chance, it's a good story. It just wasn't my cup of tea. A note on the audio: if you have trouble with syrupy southern belle accents, you might want to stick to the paper version here. I never did get into it. My rating: 3 stars.

This week I'll finish

This book is kind of a wild ride. I'll review it next week.

And then I'll begin

I'm very excited to read this one. I feel like I could really use some good life advice right now.

Last week I began reading

Speaking of good life advice, I began Max Lucado's Anxious for Nothing last week, and I'm really enjoying it so far. I'm also just barely into Mary Oliver's Upstream, nature essays.

This week I'll continue with