Talking to Strangers by Malcolm (sigh) Gladwell

Malcolm Gladwell’s latest is as much an engrossing page-turner as any. It goes off on many tangents but all are related to the theme of how we “get things wrong,” particularly when judging and trying to interpret strangers. His goal is to try to examine in detail what happened in one particular case of a traffic stop come to a tragic end. Sandra Bland was pulled over for failing to signal; she was rude to the cop; things escalated, and she was jailed. She killed herself in her jail cell.

Gladwell brackets the book with the story of Sandra Bland. Ultimately, he comes to the explanation that the police department in question was applying an aggressive kind of “stop and frisk” as applied to cars that had no place in a low-crime area such as the rural Texas road where Bland was pulled over. Police departments across the country have misinterpreted an approach to preventive crime fighting that was proven effective in extremely targeted high-crime areas, and are applying it globally.

So, the results of a study are misinterpreted. This puts two strangers in a confrontational situation they should not be in. And they get it tragically wrong.

Thus, a book about the bigger picture of “Talking to Strangers”. There is a chapter about the Penn State child abuse case; and one about college drinking, blacking out, and date rape; and one about the murder case that happened in Italy involving American students. I particularly liked one about how the suicide rate in England plummeted as the nation switched from what they called “town gas,” which will kill you if you stick your head in the oven, to a new formula of natural gas which was not lethal. Turns out (“turns out” – there’s a cliché that that phrase is what all Gladwell books boil down to)… people don’t so much want to kill themselves in general, as to kill themselves in a particular way. Take away that method and… they very well might not. People’s desires are situational. Thus, efforts to put life-saving nets off the Golden Gate Bridge; and, of course, handgun control. Impediments like these, which take away or effectively hinder the possibility of ending one’s life in a particular way, can save lives.

So, um, where were we – that’s right, “Talking to Strangers”! It’s really hard in retrospect for me to remember how all these things tied into that overarching theme. It’s a bit of a stretch, but they do all seem to contribute to the narrative of “things going wrong” in the Sandra Bland case. I didn’t mind the stretch. I love Gladwell’s books and I can’t resist being happily carried along into any tangent he cares to take me to. ( )

Dopesick by Beth Macy

This was a really hard book to get through. There was no narrative arc – even a work of nonfiction should have narrative; but this was just one bad thing after another. I chalked up seeming non-sequiturs to my lack of ability to focus; but by the end I was spotting them for sure. For example, on page 264 there’s a paragraph about how “Female user-dealers are incentivized to lie in their quest for what the government calls substantial assistance,” which comes out of nowhere and goes nowhere. The chapter isn’t about females, it’s about Ronnie Jones.

There are no happy endings here. I get that that’s reality. There’s no cure for addiction, just struggling every day to avoid the likely relapse. The closest we get to any hopeful notes in the book are the nods to medically assisted treatment, or MAT, as the best evidence-based route available to clean and sober living. So OK – couldn’t we read a story about someone holding down a job and family with the help of MAT? Just one little success story, one thread of hope, could make the difference in a reader coming away inspired to act to be supportive of addicts and MAT in their communities, vs. finishing the book horrified and hopeless. ( )

Postscript: Last night my book club met and covered this.  It was the most emotional book club meeting I’ve ever experienced in 20-odd years as a member.  One of our members recently lost her son to opioid addiction.  During the meeting she told his harrowing story.

I’m the club coordinator, and as such I’m the one who digs up possible titles and suggests them to the group.  I had been second-guessing myself for even putting this one out there, in light of the bit I had known about this woman’s experience.  But she had been the first one to vote we do it.  She said it was certainly a painful read for her, and it obviously wasn’t easy to tell the story she did; but her goal in having us discuss it was to help remove the stigma surrounding addiction, to hopefully change people’s way of thinking.

Mission accomplished.  I don’t think I’ll ever look at addiction the same way again.  This is a disease.  It alters the brain.  It needs to be medicated.  Unfortunately it’s an extremely long-term, sometimes lifelong disease.  A little bit of 12-stepping isn’t a cure.

Kathleen Hale Is a Crazy Stalker by Kathleen Hale

Folks, This Ain’t Normal by Joel Salatin

I love Joel Salatin. He is a crazy libertarian organic farmer in Virginia. I have his EVERYTHING I WANT TO DO IS ILLEGAL; and I’ve read his YOU CAN FARM. The latter is his attempt to inspire and instruct young people considering embarking on a life of farming. I loved it, even though there is no way I am ever going to become a farmer.

Here, Salatin rants about how far we have gotten away from “normal” (hence the title) with our industrial food system. He ends each chapter with positive suggestions, some more realistic than others, for taking individual action to end the insanity and start doing something normal again – growing a tomato plant, keeping chickens as pets, etc.

This totally resonated with me. The crazy thing I’ve always thought about books along the lines of “My Year of Growing All My Own Food” and such, is that they treat what used to be normal as a miracle – indeed, case in point, the title of Barbara Kingsolver’s ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE. What we think is fodder for an entire book used to just be LIFE. Of course your grew your own food. People of 200 years ago would be might puzzled that anyone would want to read or write a book about it.

It’s NORMAL. Salatin uses the word “birthright” in this book; it was actually in reference to hunting, but I like to think of it in relation to the whole shebang of agriculture and enjoying nature. It’s our BIRTHRIGHT.

The book is repetitive and ranty, not exactly a masterpiece of literature, but it has been so inspiring to me, I go with 5 stars. I’m inspired to actually double down on my local food intake. I’m researching local grain and upgrading my dairy; I’m using more butter in place of vegetable oils (big sacrifice there, not); just putting a lot more thought into it. And I wasn’t exactly unconscious to begin with.

Salatin even ends the book by confiding in us an experience where he actually broke down in tears as he was about to leave his homestead for a month or two, a very long stretch of traveling for him. He had to stop the car and cry before he had even left the lane leading to his house. I’m touched, I really am.

And although I no longer identify as libertarian – and was not interested in the rants against the government which at times lurked just below surface, and at other times reared their ugly heads – I have to say simply that there’s something refreshing in reading arguments for organic, back-to-the-land living coming from a place other than basic hippie liberal. It’s just different and enlightening and proves that these things don’t have to be “polarized.” Everyone benefits from better food. It’s ridiculous that this should be a politically one-sided issue – like climate change. ( )

Corvus: A Life with Birds

I couldn’t get past the dense, distant writing style. Esther Woolfson begins her “Life with Birds” when she comes by some doves… I think they came with the property when she moved in. From there, she gains a parrot or two, then begins collecting a stray, abandoned baby bird here and there, until ultimately she earns some recognition as a kind of Bird Lady who will take in any distressed baby bird in need of a home.
The book discusses the rats, doves, and parrots who pass through her life, but ultimately spends the most time on the corvids – particularly a rook, whom she calls “Chicken”, who lived closely with her for many years; and a magpie christened “Spike.”

Somehow, despite her voluminously worded attempts, she just never managed to explain to me the appeal of these pets. I get that she sensed an intelligence on a level comparable if not exactly equal to her own when she looked into those corvid eyes. I get the interest. I just never feel the attachment. I think that sums it up best.

And frankly, her many, many off-the-cuff “oh just Chicken being Chicken” descriptions of the corvid habit of “cacheing” – i.e. hiding things – including such delectable things as bits of ground meat, pieces of seafood – and her finding these lovely gifts in the fold of her pants leg or under the rug untold amounts of time later – yeah, that didn’t really hit home the appeal of birds to me, either.

The only aspect of the book that really kept me reading was totally unrelated to anything avian – Woolfson dwells in Aberdeen, Scotland, and her descriptions of place were very enjoyable to me. ( )

Still Life by Louise Penny

(Book Club selection)

Like science fiction, murder mysteries are a genre I rarely if ever read; so when I do, the novelty is very pleasant and I find myself thinking, “Why, this is so clever!” But the important thing for me is that the “genre-ness” not interfere with it being a well-written story. STILL LIFE is only occasionally cheesy; the gay characters were a little over-exaggerated, for example. I really wanted to get back to it every night, though; and no, I never did guess “whodunit.” ( )

Rose Wilder Lane: Her Story by Roger Lea MacBride

This is a “perfectly genuine fictional autobiography.” It was written not by Rose Wilder Lane, but by her protégée Roger Lea MacBride. It covers the period of Rose’s life beginning with her leaving Mansfield, Missouri for the west coast; through her stint as a telegraph operator; and her marriage to and divorce from Gillette Lane. Altogether it covers at least three years. It is factual that Rose did work as a telegraph operator in California, and that she married and divorced Lane. I am not sure anything else in the plot is true.

In particular, the figure of Paul Masters looms large – Paul is the boy who traveled south with his family in a wagon from Dakota to Missouri, along with the Wilders, when Rose and Paul were wee children. I am not sure that he grew up to be a genuine love interest of Rose at all; here they are informally engaged, indulging in passionate lovemaking several times. Paul appears constantly in her life out in California – I am not sure it is at all true, either, that he ever went West.

But what can I say – it’s a gripping yarn! I hardly wanted to put it down. MacBride writes a great little story… perhaps there is enough of Rose’s actual material here too, shining through enough to enamor me.

Oh, the cover has got to go, though – its illustration shows a behatted Rose and is obviously based on a famous photo of her, but in the background is a Conestoga wagon traversing an empty prairie. The Wilders were traveling in this style some 10 years or more before the book ever takes place. There are no prairies or covered wagons in the story. This isn’t LITTLE HOUSE, Garth Williams – or Garth Williams wanna-be, can’t tell. ( )

In Praise of Difficult Women by Karen Karbo

I love juicy biographies, and this was 29 delicious bit-size pieces! They run the gamut; Karbo tries to show them all as being “difficult” in one way or another. Difficult, whatever – they were all interesting and awesome. And I learned things.

Josephine Baker – how did I know next to nothing about this woman? What an amazing life!

Rachel Maddow – OK I shouldn’t admit that I didn’t know Rachel Maddow was gay, but I need to express the weird disappointment I felt at learning that. I always admired how she rocked short hair and glasses. I thought she was a really cool straight woman who rocked short hair and glasses. But she’s lesbian. So the look kind of goes with the territory. I’m sure this should be embarrassing for me not only because of my ignorance but because it surely comes off as not very homo-friendly of me, but I don’t mean anything bad by it!

Eva Peron – I didn’t know much about her either. It was worth having an earworm in my head all of the next day to read about her.

Vita Sackville-West – another learning experience.

Janis Joplin – OK, nothing new for me to learn in that department! Just always fun to read anything about her.

I could go on. Couldn’t wait to get back to this book every night. ( )

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Nail Gaiman

A crazy slouch towards Armageddon. I’d say it was more Pratchett than Gaiman. The jokes just never stop.

It was long and rambly, with a cast of characters to match. There were some I loved every time they appeared (Crowley, Aziraphale, Anathema – her name alone has to make you love her). At the other end were some that I really found repulsive, and disliked whenever they got airtime (Shadwell). I wasn’t crazy about Newt. As for the kids, they were good kid characters, but being American with little exposure to Britain, I just couldn’t reconcile those heavy accents (and ideas) coming out of children’s mouths. E.g., “I don’t see what’s so triffic about creating people as people, and then gettin’ upset ‘cos they act like people…” This is the 11-year-old Antichrist speaking. To me it just sounds like Andy Capp or one of those dimwitted Python characters.

Yes, the Antichrist; so anyway – the purported plot of the book is that the Antichrist comes to earth but gets switched at birth, and grows up without the proper diabolical “training.” So he just turns out to be a boy with a few superpowers, and isn’t really evil at all.

Meanwhile what happened to the baby who got the training? I’m not sure. If he turned up again at all, it was extremely rarely. So I thought this was going to be a big “switched at birth”, “nature vs. nurture” kind of subplot, but it wasn’t so much.

Then there were the Four [Motorcycle] Riders of the apocalypse. I read in the afterward that this was Gaiman’s main contribution. Those portions are a little less jokey, but I don’t know, things just didn’t really come together. Everything was just kind of wacky.

If you like Terry Pratchett, I think you’ll love it. if you’re looking for more Gaiman, I don’t really see it. (A crazy slouch towards Armageddon. I’d say it was more Pratchett than Gaiman. The jokes just never stop.

It was long and rambly, with a cast of characters to match. There were some I loved every time they appeared (Crowley, Aziraphale, Anathema – her name alone has to make you love her). At the other end were some that I really found repulsive, and disliked whenever they got airtime (Shadwell). I wasn’t crazy about Newt. As for the kids, they were good kid characters, but being American with little exposure to Britain, I just couldn’t reconcile those heavy accents (and ideas) coming out of children’s mouths. E.g., “I don’t see what’s so triffic about creating people as people, and then gettin’ upset ‘cos they act like people…” This is the 11-year-old Antichrist speaking. To me it just sounds like Andy Capp or one of those dimwitted Python characters.

Yes, the Antichrist; so anyway – the purported plot of the book is that the Antichrist comes to earth but gets switched at birth, and grows up without the proper diabolical “training.” So he just turns out to be a boy with a few superpowers, and isn’t really evil at all.

Meanwhile what happened to the baby who got the training? I’m not sure. If he turned up again at all, it was extremely rarely. So I thought this was going to be a big “switched at birth”, “nature vs. nurture” kind of subplot, but it wasn’t so much.

Then there were the Four [Motorcycle] Riders of the apocalypse. I read in the afterward that this was Gaiman’s main contribution. Those portions are a little less jokey, but I don’t know, things just didn’t really come together. Everything was just kind of wacky.

If you like Terry Pratchett, I think you’ll love it. if you’re looking for more Gaiman, I don’t really see it. (  1/2 )

This Fight Is Our Fight by Elizabeth Warren

I don’t agree with Warren on all things. She doesn’t have a single good thing to say about business, ever; the Washington Post put it well in an editorial I just saw today about her latest proposed bill about regulating financial equity: that, typically, she was “overreaching” and “overwrought.”

For example, in the book she cites a commencement speech given by Michael Bloomberg where he criticizes the right for being too quick to demonize minorities, and the left for being too quick to demonize big business.

Her reaction is, well, overwrought. How dare he “equate” poor minorities with powerful big business? How come everyone else is not up in arms!

Because he didn’t “equate” them; not surprisingly, Warren fails to see she is a perfect example of what he’s talking about.

The book was big on elementary history lessons and rants. I wished there were more autobiography, and more of the informal case studies she starts off with. I really do like Senator Warren, respect her, and at the core of her message, agree with her – I would love to fix the system so that it works for the majority of Americans; that’s what the system is “for.” So, without overreaching or overreacting, let’s get to it! ( )