Memoirous

This weekend I began reading The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen.  It is literally the story of a sympathetic narrator. In this day and age of what sometimes feels like a civil war to read a novel from the point of view of a character living in a partitioned country and can yet understand life on both sides is truly refreshing. He puts himself into the head of a cast of characters—even the ones he has to compromise and kill in order to advance ideology. It’s complicated. Viet Thanh Nguyen recently wrote an article: "Trump Is a Great Storyteller. We Need to Be Better." 11 December 2016. This is an articulate essay written by an immigrant about the importance of words. When we allow leaders to subvert language and use rhetoric to alienate and hurt their own populations, then we have to stand up—call a lie a lie. It’s interesting that since his election, several great authors have spoken up about their fears. Aleksandar Hemon has written several pieces around...

I’ve been trying not to think about Boston. I’ve run a few marathons. I remember when the Chicago Marathon felt like a country race. Imagine—friends and family actually finding you at the finish line! Now with over 45,000 running it—well, good luck meeting up. But of course back then there weren’t the chips or ways to track using cell phones. So I’ve been diverting my attention to other news. Like this piece about late authors homes—now Starbucks! http://flavorwire.com/385163/ the-questionable-fates-of- famous-authors-birthplaces/ Or this article about Flannery O’Connor—as if we needed another reason to love her. http://flavorwire.com/319487/ one-more-reason-to-love- flannery-oconnor Oddly enough I was just thinking about her story, "A Good Man Is Hard to Find", this morning while scrambling eggs. Actually I think I finally got the story. It is the story of convicts on the loose hiding out in the backwoods of Georgia and how a family who had stumble...

Here is a re-print of an earlier blog about books as milemarkers for our lives because I was impressed so much by Daniel Kraus's article.     As I lay there in bed I tried to think back as far as I could, exercising my memory as if it were a flabby muscle. Pictures spindled across the photo album of my brain. I leaned forward and squinted my closed eyes trying to decipher them. Book jackets. Freddy the Pig, Barnyard Detective . Charlotte’s Web . Little House on the Prairie with the Garth Williams’ illustrations. Little Women —I actually saw the chapter illustration where Jo peers into Beth’s trunk and is overcome by grief. Piles and piles of Nancy Drew mysteries, and sitting on the back porch two-seat rocker with my legs dangling over the armrest and a glass of sweetened ice tea sweating on a small stand near by. Stories were intertwined with my life story. Books served as the chronological markers of my personal history.      The Newb...