Beloved

I've been thinking about Toni Morrison's Beloved for days now, but have had trouble getting my thoughts together enough to write a review. Words like "haunting" or "powerful" or "masterpiece" feel cliche, despite their pointed accuracy. To say it is about slavery and its aftermath is a nearly criminal over-simplification.

As the novel opens a few years after the Civil War, Sethe is living alone with her teenage daughter Denver in a house that is haunted by the violent spirit of her older daughter. Even after heroically escaping from slavery with her three children (Denver being born along the way), Sethe has been unable to keep her family together. Her two sons left home because of the poltergeist, and Denver is angry and withdrawn. Sethe is proud and alone, shunned by the townspeople. All of this is observed by Paul D, another slave from the ironically named Sweet Home plantation, who arrives unexpectedly and joins their household. Shortly after he chases the ghost away, a mysterious young woman shows up, calling herself Beloved which is the name Sethe had given to the daughter she murdered.

In the present and in her "rememories," Sethe's act of murder somehow goes from being unthinkable to being somehow inevitable. Sethe had lived in freedom for about a month, and she would rather all her children be dead than be forced to return to captivity at Sweet Home. As Sethe relives this horrible chapter in her life, so does Beloved. While the former tries to explain her desperation, Beloved wants to make her pay for what she did. Paul D and Denver become near-casualties of this war between mother and daughter.

Morrison doesn't tell us of the horror of slavery, or explain to us why it was wrong. Though those truths have been accepted for over a century, there was a time when the ownership of other human beings was not cause for moral outrage. Her characters live during that time, and they have been shaped by something big and ugly. Morrison allows their actions and feelings to tell us what that was, and to give context for their ensuing actions. Sethe is an atypical heroine, strong and terrible, somehow sympathetic, and very memorable.

Beloved is amazingly well written, enjoyable to read even when it depicts scenes that are horrifying. It is a book that everyone should read.

Next up: 1984 by George Orwell for the commute; The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to read at home

Bahamas and St. Martin

Mima and Boppie just went on their very first cruise, where they stopped at San Juan, St. Martin and the Bahamas. While it would amuse me endlessly if I could report their dominance on the shuffleboard court, they really did get to see some pretty places, and they had a very relaxing time.

At St. Martin (also known as St. Maarten), they ditched the souvenir shops targeted at cruisers and spent time on a lovely beach.


I'm pretty sure their Bahamas adventure did not involve any birdwatching, but this postcard is right up the Bug's alley. We've spent the day naming and re-naming each of these lovely species, and she's quite convinced we'll see them all next time we go to the zoo.

The Gopher State

Aunt Jessie sent this to the Bug, as a little "hello" and a reminder that she'll be visiting in a few weeks. The info on the front made me wonder what else I don't know about Minnesota. In case you're curious, their state muffin is the blueberry and their state mushroom is the morel.

Why I'm anti-radio

I don't listen to the radio much, except for NPR. Once upon a time I did, but pop music left me behind when it turned into hip hop. For some reason, though, I do listen to the radio instead of CDs during the occasional drive. And my drive on Wednesday evening reminded me of The Top Five Reasons Why Radio Sucks:

5. Country music apparently makes me go all emo. Be honest - no one needs that.

4. Commercials are all louder than the songs. And inexplicably, all stations play them at the same time, leaving the listener no escape.

3. I only ever hear about the last three seconds of any decent song. It either ends as I find the station, or I drive out of range.

2. The shitty options leave me pondering things like which is likely to be the cheesiest: something by Journey, a song from Peter Cetera's unremarkable solo career or any random pop duet. Seriously, is there a single duet in the history of pop music that isn't 100% terrible? And why must my neurons spend precious processing on this conundrum?

1. "Mony Mony." That song is only liked by 12-year-old kids who think that shouting the dirty line out at school dances is hilarious. And it's like six and a half minutes long, and only has eleven words. Two of which are "mony". Which is not even a word, let alone two words.

The Reivers

The Reivers is by far the most lighthearted - and most accessible - novel I've read by William Faulkner. Apparently many Faulkner scholars regard it as one of his lesser works, but this Pulitzer-winning satire is hilarious. It does take a few pages to adjust to Faulkner's rhythm and style - long sentences, people described more by what they are not than by what they are, characters who all seem to be related and/or have similar names... but once you do so, it's a quick read. Plus, it would be a great introduction to Faulkner precisely because it is less complicated than his other works.

The Reivers is set in Faulkner's fictional Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi, during the first decade of the 1900s. Eleven-year-old Lucius Priest is convinced by his family's shady retainer Boon Hogganbeck to take his grandfather's car (the first one in the County) to Memphis. While on the road they find that Ned McCaslin, Lucius' grandfather's black coachman, has stowed away. Boon and Lucius head straight for Miss Reba's bordello where Boon tries to woo Miss Corrie; Ned heads to the black part of town where he trades the automobile for a stolen racehorse. Our three unlikely heroes scheme to win back the car, enlisting the help of Miss Reba and the girls.

The four-day ordeal is Lucius' introduction to the underbelly of society: whores, gambling, horse smuggling and general non-virtue. He returns home somehow changed, grown up in a way. Boon and Miss Corrie find moral redemption of a sort. And Ned manages to get the best of everyone involved on a variety of levels. I'd recommend this highly to both Faulkner fans and the uninitiated.

Next up: Beloved by Toni Morrison

Two steps forward, one step back

So I get that life is a journey and everything, but sometimes being at Point B is preferable to being at Point A. That's why you're trying to get there in the first place, right?! Unfortunately, kids have their own sweet pacing, which all too often includes backwards detours.

After a few consecutive nights of only one feeding during the wee hours, the Bunny woke up three times last night. I got about six hours of sleep, but in four separate chunks. I did not feel awesome this morning. I'm sure she'll be right on track soon, but I'm going back to work in a couple of weeks and having the baby sleep through the night is critical! And three months after being miraculously potty trained, the Bug has reverted back to diapers (for Number One only, knock on wood). While that's apparently common for kids with new siblings, it doesn't really sweeten the two-in-diapers deal for the 'rents. Rough week.

Real-life heroes

Most debates, discussions, arguments or wars have two valid sides. Sure, I tend to think one side is more valid than the other, though the opposite viewpoint could theoretically be defended. But there have been a few historical eras where one side was absolutely in the wrong. And the people who stood up to that side were really and truly heroes in every sense of the word.

I'm speaking, of course, of the Nazis. My grandfathers were two remarkable heroes, as I am reminded whenever Veteran's Day rolls around, or WWII Vets are remembered in the paper for some reason or another, or it's my Grandpa's birthday, or veterans/Third Reichs/old people/grandfathers/etc. come up in conversation. I'm indescribably proud of both of them.

Another real hero was Miep Gies, who passed away this week. She was the last surviving member of the group that hid Anne Frank and her family in the now-famous annex above Otto Frank's business. Mrs. Gies was the woman who discovered and saved the pages of Anne's diary, the woman who also hid an anti-Nazi university student in her home, and the woman who tried to bargain with the Gestapo for the Franks' lives.

I have been to the Anne Frank House museum in Amsterdam. Near the end of the tour I stood away from the group and cried. It was so powerful, so illustrative of the absolute right that was the Allies' stand against Hitler's Germany. The generation of men and women who took that stand, who defended right against wrong - the Greatest Generation - is aging. Every day we lose another real hero. Have we sufficiently documented their stories? How can instill reverence, and true understanding of the sacrifices they made, in our children? Will there ever be another group so deserving en masse of respect?