Here Comes the Sun, and I say it's alright!

“In the spring at the end of the day you should smell like dirt”, said one of my favorite writers of all time. Although my garden patch has been neglected (or should I say, returned to the wild) I did manage to smell like dirt, mainly by composting. Forays into gardening have not been going well. Plants (like kids) demand so much love and attention, that I am sad to report I haven't been able to provide. So, amen to the woman who said that we can't have it all. I never seem to be able to manage a good garden. That doesn't mean I didn't welcome spring.

My daughter and I have been participating in Cornell’s Feederwatch since last winter and it has been fascinating to see the change in visitors to our backyard.So far we've been mainly spotting Mourning  Doves, a solitary Red Winged Blackbird, a few Finches, the White Crowned Sparrows, the California Towhees and the occasional Cooper's Hawk. But Mar 21st was special. A Spotted Towhee and a Say’s Phoebe (who I think is nesting at our home) appeared on cue the first day of spring. A baby bunny has also taken over our backyard nibbling on whatever patches of grass it can still find (In Southern California, I don’t plan to have a watered lawn in my backyard, thank you very much!).

Our backyard birding was fully rewarded when a dozen or so cedar waxwings came out of nowhere and alighted on the tree right behind our home! They were probably leaving So Cal having wintered here this season and decided to stop on their way back. Suddenly our daughter found a solitary hooded oriole. All this was in the span of an hour since we woke up on spring day. What a fantastic start!

One of my wise friends who got me started on birding once remarked that the moment you start truly seeing birds, the world will never look the same again. How true! Here we were looking at the waxwings and oriole with wide-eyed wonderment, and a bunch of early morning joggers were going by at the exact same time under the very tree unaware that they were in the midst of such beauty just above them. In a day and age when an experience that is not captured digitally and instagrammed right away is considered not an experience at all, we remained rooted to our spot and didn’t try to grab a phone/camera lest we disturb the birds.

The past three years we have always celebrated the arrival of spring at the San Elijo Lagoon, so off we went egg hunting at the lagoon in true pagan style basking in the glory of Venus and Ishtar. The lagoon captures everything that is amazing about So.Cal in one spot. At the distance you see the Pacific, the railroad, the beach goers and the surfers, and of course our cars. The sun is out and the sky is a picture perfect blue almost cloudless, and you have the lagoon with its coastal sage scrub and its flock of shore birds and visitors both the winged and the legged kind. I knew the spring was off to a great start as we once again caught a glimpse of the elusive Clapper, a Bufflehead and a bunch of Willets and Godwits. A big shout out to all the docents and volunteers who had such amazing exhibits and taught both the kids and adults a thing or two about the biological forms that call the lagoon their home, their summer retreat, or their spring nursery.

The exhibit that showed the different kinds of nests was my favorite. Sure does put all our homes to shame. While we need a thermostat named Nest to keep us comfortable, they make do with few bits and bobs of lichens, spider webs, mud, and straw providing maximum comfort to their little ones.

So that's how we welcomed spring, walking in nature as the poet and prophet Muir informed us receiving far more than we sought. Now the mountains are calling and I must go!

The charm of history + fiction

Historical fiction has always held a special place in my heart and my book shelf. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that both my parents were History majors, although neither pursued a career in History. Growing up in India, we were never taught to love history in school. It was one of those dreary subjects that you had to get through by committing to memory dates of battles one never cared to remember. It never really served a purpose I thought. At home though, there were countless books on American History and Literature (one of my dad's interest) that it came in very handy during my Naturalization exam. After all not many immigrants had a 3 volume Carl Sandburg biography of Lincoln or an Atlas of the US Presidents or a collection of Walt Whitman poems for childhood reading material!

Fiction on the other hand was something I have always enjoyed and reading “The Three Musketeers” was probably one of my earliest forays into the genre of Historical fiction. This category has taught me more history than the combined 12 years of schooling did, not because they portrayed history accurately (far from it), but they told the story in a way that made me want to learn more and sure enough when one’s interest is piqued one ends up learning more. Ponniyin Selvan is another classic example. It was probably the first novel in Tamil literature that I read out of my own free will, and reading it made me go out and get Neelakanta Sastry’s History of South India. 

So this month when I read “Wolf Hall” by Hilary Mantel I should say I have learned so much more about the Tudors than I care to admit. I knew very little about the Tudors when I visited Hampton Court Palace 20 years back other than the famous phrase “Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Survived” that reminded us of the fate of Henry VIII’s 6 wives.  Oh, the things people do for a male heir! For a person who doesn’t care for palaces, Hampton Court was the only one I really wanted to see (actually I really only wanted to see the maze in which I gloriously got lost), thanks to another book – “Three Men in a Boat” by Jerome.K.Jerome. 

Back to Mantel’s book, I simply loved every word that was written. Having Cromwell as the protagonist and narrating the story from his point of view was plain brilliant! Very often history is told from the winner's point of view. Historical fiction on the other hand has the advantage of being able to retell history (within limits) from another point of view. 

A well written historical fiction is not very different from a Hitchcock movie. You know who the murderer is going in, but you still sit through the whole movie as the story is told from a different viewpoint. In Wolf Hall you know going in Anne Boleyn is going to be Queen, and no she won't be able to produce a male heir, and she is going to be beheaded eventually but you are still engrossed  as the viewpoint is that of Cromwell's. I can’t wait to read the sequel “Bring up the Bodies” and the third part of the trilogy when it comes out. I am also eagerly awaiting the series on PBS this April.

History itself has now become a favorite category of mine. “People’s History” by Howard Zinn ranks as one of my favorite books of all time. Recently Ramachandra Guha’s works on India have also brought a new perspective of Indian history to me.

This month I read two other historical books. “In the Heart of the Sea” by Nathaniel Philbrick which tells the story of the Whaleship Essex was a fascinating read. The story of this ship inspired another famous historical fiction “Moby Dick”. “Heart of the Sea” recounts the fate of the crew men of the Essex after their boat was attacked by a sperm whale. The book does more than tell the story of survival on the open ocean.It does a wonderful job capturing the frenzy associated with whaling, the effect of the industry on Nantucket and has some amazing insights on leadership. As a whale lover  I found it very hard to stomach the industry and its practices and found myself cheering for the sperm whale, that I had to constantly remind myself that this was the 1820s. As much as I love Japan and the Japanese people, it is very difficult for me to accept their whaling practices and I hope John Oliver will do a bit on “How is whaling still a thing?”. I will await Ron Howard’s version of the book on the big screen end of the year.

“Path between the seas” by David McCullough was my pick for OBOC-Panama.It is the account of the building of the Panama Canal, and all the intrigue associated with it. The story of the French failure and Ferdinand De Lesseps' fall from grace constituted the first half the book. Those who lived by a canal (Suez) died by a canal (Panama). The second half of the book was about the American role in the

canal. Although a very long book, i absolutely enjoyed it. At the end of the day the story was about human beings and their inflated egos, and their colossal achievements and failures. Inability to accept defeat, to see beyond party/country lines, to be open to new ideas - these are all human traits that can have serious consequences especially when undertaking a project of the size of the canal. The story of trying to control and eradicate yellow fever/malaria in Panama is by itself worth reading. The whole theory that mosquitoes were behind the illnesses was laughed at, that it took many many years, and claimed many thousand lives before it got accepted.

History repeats itself they say. That ought to make history a valuable lesson for us. Unfortunately its importance is not communicated well and/or is completely lost on us. Maybe historical fiction is one way to kindle some of the interest back into our lives. Now all we need is more re-telling of history from her point of view!

Books of January

It has been ages since I sat down and wrote anything other than grocery lists. Today I mustered enough superhuman force within to overcome an inertia that has been crushing me. I don’t know where Zuckerberg is with his books, but I am glad to say I’ve been chugging along quite well thank you. Let me start at the beginning of January with the Irish.

The Irish can almost never let me down. Colm Toibin’s “Blackwater Lightship” was one of the best books I’ve read in recent times. Three generations of women come together to set aside their differences to care for the much adored male member of the family who is dying from HIV. What amazed me was how well Colm Toibin can write in the voice of women, that too three generations of them! The humanity in the book, makes you overlook the bleak theme and eggs you to keep reading one page after the other. Made me want to read more of Toibin’s works. 

 On the other hand his countryman John Banville nearly bored me to death with “The Sea”. Oh yeah the language was beautiful and poetic and all that, but the pace was just too slow. As I mostly read before bed time I found it so hard to stay awake with this book in hand. Reminded me of a beach in Kerala called Kovalam where the waves are really slow, that it can put you in a lull – very beautiful in a beach, too soporific in a novel.

1Q84 by Murakami, a 1000+ page Odyssey of sorts hands down ranks as one of the weirdest books I’ve read. I know that criticizing Murakami is akin to committing sacrilege to some folks, but c’mmon this book should’ve been half its size! The third part especially when we all know fully well that the hero and the heroine will meet was drawn out like a daytime soap or one of those Indian Megaserials, that my mom watches that never seem to end. I think Murakami got the message, as Colorless Tsukuru had to be one of the shortest books from him and he toned down on the weirdness. In an ode to Proust, one of the characters remarks that “In search of lost time” is the perfect book to read if you are confined to solitary prison, or under house arrest or marooned on a desert island. You can now add 1Q84 to that list as a backup to Proust.

Then came “Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter” by the Noble prize winning Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa. Based on the author’s love affair and marriage as an eighteen year old to his 32 year old divorced Aunt (by marriage) Julia, the book chronicles young Mario’s life as an aspiring writer and radio news editor along with the life of a serial scriptwriter Pedro Camacho. Pedro Camacho is hired to churn out radio serials which he does very successfully and at breathtaking speed at first. The serials are presented to us in an alternate chapters of the book, and as the book progresses we see the serials getting weirder as Pedro suffers a breakdown and spirals downwards to end up in a lunatic asylum. The book is packed with comic capers that can make a sitcom envious. Llosa also takes a dig at classifying art into high and low art – Proust Vs Camacho, artistic movies Vs radio soaps. Overall a great read for OBOC – Peru!

I haven't piled up the books for February yet and haven't picked out my OBOC choice, but I do have "In the heart of the sea" and "Wolf Hall" that I want to do this month. Both are coming to the visual medium soon, and I want to read them before I watch them.

In other book news was thrilled to hear Harper Lee's sequel to "To Kill a Mockingbird" will be published in July. Needless to say I have pre-ordered my copy of "Go Set a Watchman" and will eagerly await the book.

Prospects for 2015

I spent the first day of 2015 in an international flight over the Pacific in the company of my family and my books (you could say with my two biggest loves). If you read my last post you might have noticed I took an end of year resolution to read Ulysses. I am happy to report this quest is well underway and it has been an absolute JOY! No, I am not done … yet, but I have crossed the turnaround point for most people and have tunneled my way through the prose and have been well rewarded so far. Will have more to say once I am done with this quest.

 

One book which I read as a precursor to Ulysses on my way to India proved to be extremely useful, illuminating and was such a great read, that I have to recommend it to others who have always wanted to get into Joyce’s masterpiece but have held back. Kevin Birmingham’s The Most Dangerous Book: The Battle for James Joyce’s Ulysses. How can a book about a book be so full of intrigue and adventure, and such fun to read? Kevin Birmingham is qualified to write a heist thriller for the screen – that’s how well he has portrayed the cast of characters, told the back story, and described the battles for the book fought both on and off courts across continents. While Joyce and Ulysses might be the central characters of the book, the supporting cast of Ezra Pound, Sylvia Beach, Harrier Weaver, Margaret Anderson, Jane Heap, T.S.Eliot, Hemingway (in a minor role) and the villains (Comstock specifically) are names that are not to be taken lightly. I loved the book as it clearly established two things in my mind 1) Importance of Ulysses in breaking barriers for all art and artists in the 20^th century 2) Without courageous women Ulysses would not exist. Hands down, the best non-fiction I read in 2014!

2015 began with an amazing book – Richard Flanagan’s Booker winner “The Narrow Road to the Deep North”. Many many years ago when I was in middle school, my dad dragged my brother and I to a movie which he thought was a must-watch for us. It was the William Holden, Alec Guiness starer “Bridge on the River Kwai”. As I read “Narrow Road”, I couldn’t avoid flashes of the movie entering my brain. Set during WWII the subject matter of both involve building the Burmese Railway by POWs under unimaginable circumstances and extreme duress. But “Narrow Road” moves beyond WWII and follows the life of the protagonist Doctor Dorrigo “Big Fella” Evans as he survives the camp and becomes a national hero in his home country Australia. In many ways Dorrigo’s life after the war seems a lot more painful than during the war (“It’s the everyday living that does us in”). What does it mean to be a good person, a hero to the outside world when inside you feel that all of it is just a charade and lies? Dorrigo and his counterpart Nakamura find their post war lives completely dominated by their experiences on “The Line” and they live with such internal conflict for the rest of their long lives. “Do you still believe in God? Dunno Colonel. It’s human beings I’m starting to wonder about” – haven’t we all felt like this at some point (today especially after hearing about the shootings in Paris). A poignant book that will remain with you, and am glad it kept Richard Flanagan from going to  work in the Tasmanian mines and focus on his writing, as we really need to hear from him more.

With that powerful start, I am hoping 2015 will remain a good year for me and my reading adventures. It was also good to hear about Mark Zuckerberg’s resolve to read a book every other week in 2015! If 2015 is anything like 2014 I should be able to achieve that. Am working on two in parallel this week – The Sea and Blackwater Lightship, in addition to Ulysses. Certainly looks like an Irish month!

End of the year resolution

I wrapped up this year’s OBOC with Suad Amiry’s “Sharon and My Mother-In-Law: Ramallah Diaries” as the book from Palestine. I had originally thought I would read one of Raja Shehadeh’s works for Palestine, but was thrilled to find this book which also helped me towards my goal of reading more woman writers this year. Also marked my 93^rd book for OBOC – had hoped to hit 100 this year, but oh well a couple of 700 pagers and writings from my other favorite writers came out to distract me this year, so I fell short of the 100. 

 Back to this book. No matter where you fall in the matter of Israel and Palestine, what your opinions on who is doing what to whom, this book is well worth your time. Yes, it distinctly represents the Palestinian voice, but that is a voice we don’t hear in the media/ public often.  

How does one carry on living amidst curfews, shortages and ridiculous bueraucracies? How does it feel to live your life knowing your fate is being determined not by you, but in distant places like Oslo, Washington by people who don’t have to stand in line for 3 hours to get a loaf of bread, or get an Israeli id for your dog so the dog can get vaccinated, or deal with having a wall suddenly come up on land you were growing olives on or having to prop up a 90 year old woman over a fence to get her out of a curfew zone? Suad’s recipe is a bit of insanity, mixed with unwavering stubborness and a generous helping of humor.

Of late I have found myself in some ridiculous situations (sometimes at work, on the road, dealing with contractors etc) when I caught myself laughing instead of getting bogged down. Although light years from living in Ramallah, I felt Suad’s style of writing and her view on life and that of average Palestinians has a lesson for me.

Switching gears I picked up “The Dubliners” by Joyce again, and found myself enjoying it more this time around. I have a general fascination for Ireland don’t know why (maybe it was mind boggling for an Indian to associate fair-skinned folks with victims of colonialism). I devour Irish movies or movies set in Ireland, love their folk music, and their writers. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, release of Mandela, I think the Good Friday Agreement ranks as one of the important events fueling optimism around the world for people of my generation. 

Anyway I’ve told myself I would visit Dublin only after I read and understand Ulysses so that might be many many years from now. Maybe my daughter would read it before I do! But “The Dubliners” on the other hand is a fascinating read coming from someone who is not a fan of short stories. I have seen Dublin in my mind’s eye thanks to Joyce’s evocative descriptions, and this re-reading has prompted me to ditch all my other efforts and attack Ulysses one more time like Mahmud of Ghazini who plundered India 17 times (only in my case, much more timidly and so far unsuccessfully over 17 years almost!). This time I am well armed with guides that claim to help me go through Ulysses with a cheat sheet and a compass. 

That’s my end of the year resolution!