LEISURELY THOUGHTS
from Howard
See Also -- Howard's blogsite: http://hrdfax.blogspot.com
31 December 2007. It seems like 2006 ended just a few minutes ago, and here we are already at the end of the next one. I'm no fan of New Year's Eve, but it seems like the time to think back on the year, so here goes.
Minneapolis made international headlines a couple times this year, neither occasion a source of pride for us here. There was the I-35 bridge collapse that killed 13 people and then an airport men's room stall that played a part in destroying a U.S. Senator's political career. The Twin Cities will make headlines again in 2008 when the Republicans hold their national convention here in September (Another gloomy thought).
The U.S. dollar had a bad year, the Euro had a good year, so we had another year of not going to Europe -- unfortunately. We did some good vacations where currency rates are not an issue, though. We spent a few days in the Bahamas in January. Then in early May we spent a week or so along the Georgia coast near Savannah. The big trip this year, in November, was Hawaii, where Jerry spent a month and I joined him for the last two weeks of that vacation. We rented a great cottage at the foot of Diamond Head in Honolulu -- very quiet and private. I hadn't ever been to Hawaii, and Jerry had spent very little time there before this, and we had a great time. It will become one of our "homes away from home".
It was a difficult year in some ways too. Jerry lost both of his parents. The bad economy has affected both of our businesses. But we are doing well, our families are mostly doing great, life is good. See you in 2008!
13 December 2007. The end of the year is near, when I start asking friends what their favorite book was during the year -- the friends who read books, that is (In other words, the most interesting friends). And long winter evenings are here, so maybe it is time to revitalize my leisurely thoughts. People still check in on me now and then, you know.
Let me know what you liked reading in 2007. I'll report back shortly.
10 September 2007. Earlier this year, I read Gore Vidal's two books of memoirs, Salimpsest and Point to Point Navigation. Up to that point I had only read two of his novels, Myra Breckinridge and Myron, way back in the 70s, even though I've always had an admiration for Vidal. I liked the memoirs so much that they made me want to read almost everything that Gore Vidal had ever written. My friend Elke had the same experience. Since reading the memoirs, she and I have each read about five of Vidal's novels -- and counting. It's like knowing so much about him and his life -- a very interesting life and outlook on life! -- made his novels more compelling for us. Then sometime after that, I read the memoirs of the late playwright Tennessee Williams, and that book made me want to see every play that Tennessee Williams ever wrote, even though the book didn't talk about the plays themselves much at all.
Late this summer, I read the recent autobiography of German novelist Günther Grass, Peeling the Onion, which upon its release in Germany caused a great deal of controversy because the book reveals that Grass was a member of Hitler's elite Waffen-SS at the end of World War II. Any knowledge that I even have about Günther Grass comes directly from the writings and opinions of John Irving, who believes Grass to be the world's greatest living novelist. Because of that -- here I sit, after all, with this Irving-influenced website -- I've read three of Grass' books before this -- The Tin Drum (his claim to fame), Cat and Mouse, and Crabwalk. I was expecting a lot from Peeling the Onion, which covers the period of his early life through the writing of The Tin Drum in the late 1950s -- an exciting period in German history and, I would think, in the life of an up-and-coming great writer. There is no certainly question that Günther Grass has had an interesting life. What was surprising for me was how dull the book about it could be. It feels like he was writing this book against his will, or because it was expected of him, sort of begrudgingly. That's fine. What I found most remarkable, after the experience of the Gore Vidal and Tennessee Williams memoirs and how they made me want more, is that this book left me with no desire to read any more of his books. That's enough of Günther Grass for now.
There was one positive side effect of Peeling the Onion for me, though. It made me want to go back to Germany. I miss it. Jerry and I haven't been there in a couple years now, or to anywhere in Europe, and I'm thinking we need to go back next summer. And all of that thinking about re-visiting Germany (and my friend Elke up there on the North Sea) somehow motivated me to finally learn enough basic German to get by the next time I'm there. So, I've enrolled in a "practical" German class at the German-American Institute in St. Paul and have begun classes. It's fun being back in a classroom -- and learning something that I want to know. Danke, Günther!
By the way, if you're really desperate for something to do, I've started a little blogsite: http://hrdfax.blogspot.com. It's pretty inconsequential, but what isn't?
03 August 2007. More bad news from Minneapolis.
Bodies are still being pulled from the Mississippi, and rescue workers in the river are at great risk. News media from around the world have descended on the Twin Cities (Last night I was interviewed by a Fox News Radio woman, who seemed to be irritated when I used hand motions describing the awful scene I had witnessed the night before -- I wanted to say, "Hey, lady, it's not my fault you couldn't make it to television.") The patterns of our neighborhood have been changed by re-routed commuters and by the gawkers. This is nothing, of course, compared to what it must be like for the friends and families of people who are still missing.
To add to the disruption, george w. bush arrives tomorrow for his photo opportunity. His Stepford wife is visiting the scene today. The last thing the area needs right now would be a presidential motorcade and Secret Service people. bush will provide little comfort in Minneapolis, a city that ardently dislikes him. This is for his three-minute appearance on the evening news, because somewhere in this big country are people who can still stand the little dweeb.
And if on this trip he tells somebody they are doing a "heckuva job", it had better not be one of his cronies. It should be the people of the Twin Cities. This is only my adopted home, but I've been proud of how this tragedy has been handled by the locals with such class, especially the "first-responders" and the ordinary people who were on the scene and whose instinct was to help.
Tomorrow, we fly back east (to my original home) for a sort of unofficial family reunion. At least, I hope we fly out of here tomorrow. If all the bridges hold together and if Air Force One doesn't also disrupt air travel. Oh -- and one more thing to worry about --- We're flying Northwest Airlines!
02 August 2007. The news from Minneapolis.
Last night, early evening, Joan called me on the phone, wondering if I had the TV on, if I knew what had happened. I very rarely have the TV on and have been finding it increasingly difficult to watch the news (see 25 May 2007), so I didn't know what was going on. I heard the sirens, but here in the middle of the city it seems like there are always sirens. She told me that the 35W bridge over the Mississippi had collapsed, all the news channels were covering the story live. It took me a minute to realize what bridge she was talking about -- Then I knew that it's the freeway bridge that we use all the time, about eight blocks from our house. We hadn't been using it much this summer because there has been road construction and lanes are closed off (and I hate sitting in traffic).
So I jumped on my bike and drove over to the site. By now, you have probably seen the photos of the wreckage of that bridge, since this has become a world-wide news story. There is nothing I can say to further describe the scene in words. The pictures tell the story of this tragedy. To see it in person is to feel the reality of it.
At this point, the next morning, the whole area is roped off, the search is still on for survivors or bodies, helicopters are still flying overhead, rescue vehicles are abundant. Traffic is disrupted, which will probably be the case for a couple years with that bridge gone. Relatives and friends are calling us from all over the country to make sure we are all right. It's a good time to appreciate each other and know we're all safe. Things change fast.
12 July 2007. In between family visits and trips to the shore last week in New Jersey, I finished re-reading A Prayer for Owen Meany, first time in 18 years. It was good to read the full book in about a one-week period, instead of stretching it over a month or more, which is probably what I did the first time I read it. There are so many rich pieces of the precise characterizations that one would miss if the whole book weren't fresh in his or her mind. And there is the overriding subject of "faith". In our daily emails, I mentioned to Elke, my German guardian angel, that the book has even more of a religious theme than I had remembered. Her response: "Almost EVERY novel of John Irving has a religious background. That's what I'm telling you now for five years! Whatever mockery he has for this subject is cunningly hidden, never really visible for a truly believing soul, and so it often remains undisclosed to someone unaware of Irving's insidiousness. Only the agnostic,and then only those who are familiar with bible texts, will notice it. It's not really blasphemy (he wouldn't dare that in a country like the US), but often just a hint to sexual abysses behind certain biblical constellations. Like the picture [in Until I Find You] of the four women near the tomb of Jesus Jack Burns sees in a church plus the picture of the four girls around the not-yet sexually awoken Jack Burns, abusing him. There is so much biblical symbolism you COULD detect if you wanted to, and Irving's subtlety leaves it to his readers' ability or willingness to dig it up or maybe just consign it as an imprint in the subconscious. You know that what I most admire is the SUBTLETY of this author, not this awful he-man wrestling camouflage which (sure) promoted him at school and later on as writer."
'Not sure if I agree with all that, but I do know it would be a treat to see Elke interview John Irving sometime.
So I am enthusiastic about Owen Meany once again, still feeling its power. Ever since I started the "Irving Reader Poll" on this site in 2001, Owen Meany has consistently been the choice of about a third of the Irving readers to the question, "What is your favorite John Irving book?" out of the ten novels listed. It has joined the list of the John Irving books that I've read twice, joining A Widow for One Year, The Hotel New Hampshire, and The 158-Pound Marriage. As I write this, I'm wondering why I haven't read my favorite, Garp, twice.
28 June 2007. My sister Joan and I were having dinner together a couple nights ago, and she told me that she has already put in her request at work to have the first week of September next year, 2008, off. Joan lives in downtown St. Paul, where, as it happens, the Republican National Convention will be held at that time. As horrifying as it might sound to have thousands of Republicans invading the Twin Cities next year, our consolation is that there will also be thousands of protesters coming to town, as well as the all the homegrown protesters here in these relatively progressive Cities. Joan will be joining them, as will Jerry and myself, of course.
On the other hand, as hard as it will be for all these people to find places to stay while they're here, Jerry and I were thinking that maybe we should rent out a couple rooms to Republican delegates for, say, $1,000 a night, meals included and shuttle trips to the convention arena. Can you picture that? bush-cheney accomplices under our roof? But -- hey! -- this is capitalism, anything goes!
......
I bought a new home computer, was attempting to install it last night. I'm really bad at reading instructions, so it was a challenge. I was just getting used to Windows XP, and here I am now on Windows Vista, a whole 'nother world. But -- anyway -- the weird part of the experience was having the TV on across the room, where Larry King was interviewing Paris Hilton for an hour and then for another hour Anderson Cooper was analyzing the Larry King-Paris Hilton interview. And I'm thinking, as I'm plugging and unplugging computer cables, who the heck watches this crap?? Then it occurred to me -- I'm watching it! The remote control was sitting there for two hours untouched!
27 June 2007. Midsummer reading lists...
Do you pay any attention to my reading list, or Elke's, or Joan's? Well, I do. Sometimes we are all heading in totally different directions in our book choices, which is fun, but I've noticed that lately we're doing some nice overlapping and recommending to each other. Elke and I have been reading Gore Vidal memoirs, Point to Point Navigation and Palimpsest, books that we both liked a lot, and Joan and I just finished reading Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell, a surprisingly funny and informative and relevant book about Presidential assassinations. Now Elke and I are taking a temporary turn back into John Irving-Land, which is where we started. Elke and her husband Peter are off on their annual midsummer sailing trip into the North Sea and up north of Germany, to Norway and Sweden and wherever else they end up. Elke takes a boatload of books along, including the aforementioned Gore Vidal, but has also decided to, as she sails the seas, re-tackle Irving's A Son of the Circus, which she didn't care for much on her first reading but thinks might warrant another try ( I, on the other hand, loved A Son of the Circus but didn't particularly like Until I Find You, which Elke has read twice and raves about).
Meanwhile, I've started re-reading A Prayer for Owen Meany (finally!), inspired partly by Elke's return to Irving and by my co-worker Eric currently reading Owen Meany for the first time and by an email I received from a guy who will be teaching a short course on Owen Meany, which will focus on how literature and religion interact.
I'm leaving this weekend for some family stuff in New Jersey, then on to Illinois for the estate sale for Jerry's parents household belongings, gone for a total of about eight days, plenty of time to read (I hope).
So what are you reading this summer?
07 June 2007. My co-worker Eric is back to reading Owen Meany, in German (Eric, unlike most Americans, is bi-lingual -- is very fluent in German). He gives me an update every now and then, tells me what is happening in the chapter he just read, and I'm amazed at how much I've forgotten about Owen Meany over the last twenty years. It's time for a re-read of that great book sometime soon (in English). I keep saying that.
My reading over the last several months has been mostly non-fiction, some historical stuff, some political stuff. I especially enjoyed Gore Vidal's new memoir, Point to Point Navigation, as did Elke over there in Germany, and we're both planning on reading his first memoir, Palimpsest. Then, I've been reading a couple Augusten Burroughs books (what a weird childhood he had!), odds and ends like that, am drifting a bit. I did enjoy a volume of Sam Shepard short stories, Great Dream of Heaven. Sam is known mostly for being a playwright (I've read most of his plays), occasionally an actor, the other half of actress Jessica Lange. I met Jessica at a Wellstone event a couple years ago, asked about Sam. Very cool lady with a very cool lover.
... drifting...
It's the early summer season, we're so far neglecting or avoiding the early-summer movie blockbusters that all seem this year to be sequels to sequels -- Spiderman 3, Shrek 3, Pirates of the Caribbean 3, the third Oceans (13 this time). But we did see some smaller movies that I would definitely recommend. First there's Paris, Je T'Aime, which is sort of a celebration of Paris in 18 different segments, each with different directors and different themes. Then there is Waitress, a funny movie which will make you hungry for pie. Of the movies we've seen lately, the one Jerry has liked the most is Journey From The Fall, the story of a Vietnamese family from 1975-1982 or so -- the boat people, the reeducation centers, a riveting story.
We have no big summer vacations planned yet. I'll go back to New Jersey once or twice, which is always fun for me but probably doesn't sound too exotic. Jerry will go back to Illinois at least once for the sad task of selling and otherwise disposing of his late parents' belongings.
My son Jon is in Portugal for a two-week vacation. That's the way to start a summer. I wonder if we'll get back to Europe this year.
25 May 2007. I've been noticing recently how difficult is has become to watch the evening news. I mean, the news is depressing, but the news has been depressing for a long time -- forever, I guess. What makes it harder now, for me at least, is the commercials: almost all of them are for prescription drugs. First of all, the commercials themselves are terrible, showing pill-popping active people (actors, of course), deliriously happy because they have their cholesterol or erectile dysfunction -- or whatever! -- under control, while they list all the bad side effects (which often sound worse than the diseases) and the sober advice to "Ask your doctor if ______________ is right for you!" So, my question as I ponder the effectiveness and profitability when I'm watching these ads: Are the news-watchers, the hypochondriacs especially, sitting there in front of their televisions jotting down drug names to call their doctor about the next day? Doctors these days seem to be happy to prescribe unnecessary overpriced medications, so maybe they'll just automatically write out the prescriptions. Or, preferably, they might be responding, "I'm so sick of these pain-in-the-butt 'Is this medication right for me?' phone calls!"
The pharmaceutical companies, as apparently the primary sponsors of U.S. television-news media and also major advertisers in the print-media, can do whatever they like as they make obscene profits and drive vulnerable people further into poverty or desperation. The news media will be unlikely to investigate their own sponsors too closely. And the prescription-drug companies own enough of our national and state politicians to be safe from their serious scrutiny.
So -- watching the news in between the drug commercials, we see several primary types of TV news items these days. First, even though the next Presidential election is still more than 500 days away, we are being bombarded with stories about the dozen or two suits running for the Democratic or Republican nominations for next year's election. Is Rudy Guiliani really pro-choice or anti-choice on abortion? It's too early for this crap! Second, nonsensical celebrity stories: Is Paris Hilton really going to jail? Third, quality-of-life stories, because someone has decided that the viewers really want to be the news to be about ourselves.
Meanwhile, there are real world-news stories that are totally unreported or under-reported by the U.S. news people. The war inflicted on Iraq by the U.S., a war that was allowed to happen mostly because of our citizens' ignorance of the world, is still only being reported as filtered by U.S. politicians and the corporate world. Catastrophic suicide-bomber attacks that are sometimes killing hundreds of people at once are falling further and further down the list of top news stories. Mass murders only matter if they happen in the United States, you know. Another world-wide issue, global warming, is only being reported as a short-term political news story instead of as a reality to be urgently dealt with. No mention of the prescription-drug crisis, of course.
As more people switch to the internet for unending versions of alternative news, maybe the evening news is destined to become more and more irrelevant. Or maybe someone needs to come up with some better drugs to advertise.
16 May 2007. One of the problems with going two months without a "leisurely thought" in my head is how hard is to get started again. It's kind of like if you stop going to the gym, how hard it is that first day when you go back.
I did have some good excuses for being distracted from my web site. January to April, you remember, are the months when I do nothing but work. This year, especially toward the end of it, I may have worked harder than ever. I know I was exhausted. I know I'm getting too old for that kind of pace.
But then April came, and more personal and emotionally difficult issues arose. On the first of April, Jerry's mother died. She had been in failing health and in a nursing home for a couple of years, but her death was, naturally, still very hard on Jerry and his family. We, along with my son Tom, headed to southern Illinois (about an 11-hour drive) for the funeral. Then, three weeks later, on the 23rd, Jerry's dad died suddenly. He had been in relatively good health. So we went back to southern Illinois for the second funeral, which was held three weeks to the minute after the first funeral.
Jerry's parents, Fred and Mildred, were both born in March of 1917 and both died in April of 2007. They were married for 60-some years. They lived in the same house for 57 years. Fred's death, even though he was 90 years old, was unexpected, and people are thinking that he died of a broken heart, that it is the natural ending for such a long romance, that from somewhere Mildred was saying, "Come on, Daddy, I need you."
.......
By the end of April, we were so tired we were zombies. We knew we needed to leave Illinois and we weren't ready to come back to Minneapolis yet, so we decided to go somewhere else for a week, just to recuperate or at least partly recuperate. Our criteria: somewhere where we could use frequent-flyer miles to get to and somewhere where the weather forecast for the week was "warm and sunny". After an internet search and a flip of a coin, we flew to Savannah, Georgia, and stayed in a condo on a beach on nearby Tybee Island. It turned out to be just right. I had never been to Savannah (you readers, think: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil), and the ocean was literally at our doorstep. I have probably never slept as much as I did those first couple days. Then we sort of came back to life, gradually started exploring the Georgia coast and went up into South Carolina, to Hilton Head Island and to Charleston. I read three or four books that week. We got re-acquainted.
.......
And while my Leisurely Thoughts was suffering from benign neglect, I was thinking some non-leisurely thoughts that, if my computer would have been nearby, I would have punched onto the site. The bush/Cheney war continuing, while they blame the troops as being the reason we can't leave Iraq. The early start to the 2008 Presidential election, which I have trouble getting excited about, since any of the announced candidates would be better than the idiot that they are looking to follow. And I almost fired up my web site to grieve for the death of Kurt Vonnegut in April. He was a great man and writer and, starting with Slaughterhouse-Five, re-directed my reading habits for life. I'll have much more to say about many things.
15 March 2007. As an evolving soon-to-be old codger, I can be satisfied with little pleasures that toss me back into youthful diversions. How cool it was to see that the Ronettes have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and, even though most people reading this would say, "Who the heck are the Ronettes?" and many more would say, "Who the heck cares who's in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?", I can feel somehow vindicated in some of my musical tastes circa 1963, 1964, whenever it was. The Ronettes were part of the Phil Spector Wall of Sound era, which consisted of over-produced three-minute teen "operas". Ronnie, the lead singer of the Ronettes, eventually married the eccentic Phil Spector, an emotionally abusive marriage that lasted about six years. Phil Spector, who became even more eccentric as the decades went on, is currently accused of murdering a starlet about four years ago: his murder trial is scheduled to start next week. In a couple of my bubble-gum celebrity-biography moments, I've read books about these people: Ronnie Spector's autobiography, Be My Baby: How I Survived Mascara, Miniskirts, and Madness, or My Life as a Fabulous Ronette; and a biography of Phil Spector, He's A Rebel: Phil Spector, Rock & Roll's Legendary Producer, by Mark Ribowsky. If you give a damn about any of this, you might want to try these books. I liked them, but I was a fan, and I guess I still am.
Howard's Top 5 Ronettes songs: Be My Baby, Do I Love You?, Walking in the Rain, Baby I Love You, and (The Best Part of) Breakin' Up.
a Ronettes moment from YouTube (turn on your sound): click here
24 February 2007. I'm finding that not many people are interested in tomorrow's Academy Awards, I think because none of the nominated films have been seen by very many people (and I probably know all the wrong people). I wasn't excited about seeing any of these films either, but Jerry and Joan and I have a tradition of trying to see at least the five films nominated for Best Picture. Being the procrastinator that I am, that meant seeing four movies in the past week, including two of them in the same evening. I'm movied-out for a while!
But -- at least now I have opinions and can sit there enjoying the Oscars, knowing that I'm making critical and sarcastic remarks not in total ignorance. This is the order that I liked the Best-Picture nominees: The Departed, Little Miss Sunshine, Babel, The Queen, and Letters from Iwo Jima. Jerry and Joan both liked Babel best. All of them are okay, but I'm not sure any of them is good enough to be a Best Picture winner. If Dreamgirls had been nominated for Best Picture, I might have picked it. The Departed is a bloody mobster movie, which I'm usually way too squeamish to tolerate, but this film impressed me with its good story, perfect pace, and tight direction -- and great performances by Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, and Mark Wahlberg. This is a mobster movie that never could have been before the invention of cell phones -- If you've seen it, you know what I mean.
My other choices. Best actor: Hmm, I didn't see any of these movies, but it sounds like Forest Whitaker will win for The Last King of Scotland. I would have nominated Leonardo DiCaprio for The Departed, but he was nominated instead for Blood Diamond, which I didn't see. Best Actress: Helen Mirren for The Queen. Best Supporting Actor: Mark Wahlberg for The Departed. Best Supporting Actress: Adriana Barraza for Babel. (Eddie Murphy and Jennifer Hudson, both in Dreamgirls, will probably win the Supporting Oscars). Best Director: Martin Scorsese for The Departed. It's time that Scorsese finally won! What I'm looking forward to the most: seeing Ellen DeGeneres hosting the show.
And I'm hoping for better films in 2007!
21 February 2007. I woke up, and it was the 21st of February already -- past MLK Day, Valentine's Day, President's Day, Mardi Gras -- and where was I all that time? Working my butt off, of course, and you're not too surprised after all these years that my Leisurely Thoughts (decidedly un-Leisurely at times) tend to suffer in January and February from benign neglect. Oh well, here I am to at least try and mask the gap between 09 January and 21 February.
Jerry and I took a trip to the Bahamas in mid-January (This was prior to the late Anna Nicole Smith's recent inexplicably newsworthy spotlight on the Bahamas). For us, this was a last minute trip. We just knew we had to get out of Minnesota and to somewhere warm, and everything else remotely affordable was booked. I had never even given the Bahamas a second thought, but, what the heck, it was available, and we went with really low expectations. But, wow! what a great vacation it was. We stayed on the island of Grand Bahama, in a house on the beach, and had one of the most relaxing and refreshing vacations we've ever taken together. There were things to do if we wanted to -- a casino, restaurants, whatever -- but otherwise we sat around reading and walking on the beach and enjoying the warm sun. I came back ready to work my butt off until April.
I had nothing to say about MLK Day, Valentine's Day, President's Day, or Mardi Gras anyway, now that I think of it. President's Day -- HA! -- as everyone is debating whether our current "president" is the worst President ever -- or merely the worst President of the United States ever. Oh, there is one event coming up that will merit comment from me: the Academy Awards are this Sunday night. Now this was perhaps the worst movie year ever -- I mean, Jerry and I actually found ourselves liking Borat and Jackass Number Two because everything else sounded so dreary. BUT that won't stop me from having opinions on the nominees. We have one more Best Picture-nominated movie to see -- Then I'll be back.
I've been reading some non-fiction and some more old Graham Greene novels, but I'm still in somewhat of a reading slump. The other day, I looked at the New York Times fiction best-seller list, and, out of 35 best-sellers, there wasn't one book that I wanted to read, and I wasn't ambitious enough to look beyond the Top 35. So I'll probably stay in non-fiction for a while, or maybe re-read one of the John Irving novels, or finally try one of those classics I say I'll read before I'm dead. Anybody have any ideas?
That's enough break time for now. As I work my fingers to the bone, Jerry and my son Tom are at the Timberwolves game tonight. Go, Wolves!
09 January 2007. So many books, so little time.
Starting one year always brings some reflection on the year that went before, and one of my ways of doing that is by asking various friends "What was the best book you read this past year?" Here are the responses for 2006:
-- Paige, in New Jersey: Everyman by Philip Roth.
-- Steve, in Seattle: Dry: A Memoir by Augusten Burroughs.
-- Grietje, Elke's next-door neighbor in Germany: A History of Love by Nicole Krauss
-- Eric, my co-worker: The Weather Makers by Tim Flannery.
-- Dylan, novelist and poet: Joy in the Morning by Betty Smith. (Dylan loves Betty Smith. Last year he picked A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.)
-- Michael (the Poet): Six Memos for the New Millennium by Italo Cabino.
-- Tony, friend and Vikings fan: Living a Life That Matters by Harold Kushner.
Some of my book group friends:
-- Barb (who should be a blogger): White Teeth by Zadie Smith.
-- Tonja: White Teeth by Zadie Smith.
-- Peter: Saturday by Ian McEwan.
-- Barry: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.
Elke, Joan, and I, the reading habits of whom are chronicled on this website, have all picked as our favorites books of non-fiction this year. Elke, who read more books than any of us, has chosen Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond. My sister Joan, a student of history since she was about five years old, has named Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln's Killer by James L. Swanson, a book about John Wilkes Booth.
I read less this past year than I usually do, for some unknown reason, but I did manage to finish 27 books, and it was a decent variety. There is no question in mind which book I enjoyed the most -- found hard to put down, learned from, have thought about the most since, and that's The Autobiography of Malcolm X, the mid-1960s bestseller written by Malcolm X and Alex Haley. The best novel I read was White Teeth by Zadie Smith, with honorable mentions going to two Philip Roth novels, Sabbath's Theater and his newest book, Everyman.
Beyond the Elke, Joan, and Howard Awards for 2006:
National Book Awards: Fiction -- The Echo Maker, Richard Power; Non-fiction -- The Worst Hard Time, Timothy Egan.
Pulitzer Prize for Fiction: March by Geraldine Brooks.
Man Booker Prize for Fiction: The Inheritance of Loss, Kiran Desai.
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