Year in Read, 2012

2012: Well, the world didn’t explode, though parts of it did go under. The high of 2012 was the Big Sur Marathon; the low was crying in a parking lot in Broomfield. The best meals were the Kosher Fried Chicken, the Vert practice dinner party and the Momofuku Pork Butt. The worst meals were the many times I had two Eggo Waffles and an avocado for dinner. In the past 12 months, I voted in a swing state, hiked two 14-ers, swam in a creek, pond, and an ocean, wrote some, and read more. After the jump, the books I read over the past year.

The Art of Fielding, Chad Harbach

I like the Midwest, I like Moby-Dick, and I like gay people, but I didn’t like this book. Which is too bad, because everyone else seemed to really enjoy it, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than a good book.

Like Life, Lorrie Moore

The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

Big Sur, Jack Kerouac

It’s hard to take Jack Kerouac seriously as an adult.

The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson

This is a book about black migration during Jim Crow era. The bookmark in my copy is a ticket to a Denver Nuggets game.

The After-Life, Donald Antrim

Related recommendation: “I Bought A Bed" 

Less Than Zero, Bret Easton Ellis

I guess I find nihilism aesthetically pleasing, because I really enjoyed this book. I thought it had something real to say about the 80s entitled teenage experience. Related: If Only There Were a Book Club For Every Literary Experience I Have, Less Than Zero Edition.

Scenes in America Deserta, Reyner Banham

The American desert fascinates me, but I couldn’t imagine living somewhere so inherently inhospitable to life.

Dykes to Watch Out For, Alison Bechdel

The Gaggle, Jessica Massa (with Rebecca Wiegand)

My friends wrote a dating self-help book!

After Henry, Joan Didion

The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, Deepak Chopra

Desperate Characters, Paula Fox

Wild, Cheryl Strayed

A woman finds herself while hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Obviously, you want to hate it, but there’s no way to. It’s a great book.

Coming Into the Country, John McPhee

Red Letter Secondhand Books and Alfalfa’s are my favorite retail establishments in Boulder. They’re the first two stores I visited east of the continental divide in Colorado, and though they are now places I frequent regularly, they still remind me of my road trip buddy. Whenever I go to Red Letter, I usually buy a book he would like. He’s the one who introduced me to John McPhee, and I bought this book here. If you’re curious about the Last Frontier and people who would literally rather pull their tooth out themselves than be apart of society, this is the book for you.

Love Is Not Constantly Wondering If You Are Making the Biggest Mistake of Your Life, Anonymous

Great title, obviously. That’s the best part of it

Prep, Curtis Sittenfeld (reread)

I Don’t Care About Your Band, Julie Klausner*

Columbine, Dave Cullen

Once A Runner, John L. Parker, Jr.

Runners believe this book is great in the same way that cyclists believe Lance Armstrong was clean.

The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway

I didn’t like this book in 1999 and I didn’t like it in 2012.

Rock Springs, Richard Ford

Previously. If you have any interest in the short form, the American West and loneliness, you should read this book.

Nothing to Envy, Barbara Demick

Usually the people of a repressed state know they’re starving, their leaders are dictators and life is lacking. The citizens of North Korea have no idea. There’s a lot that’s less than ideal in America, but at least we can talk about the problems. Plus, there’s tons of food. No book has made me feel luckier to be an American.

On Writing, Stephen King*

This Is How You Lose Her, Junot Diaz

The best book about failed love I’ve ever read.

The Sportswriter, Richard Ford

Look at Me, Jennifer Egan*

Midnight in Sicily, Peter Robb*

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

Oh man. Do you want to have that feeling of not being able to put a book down? Then read this one

Goodbye, Columbus, Philip Roth (reread)

I first read this novella when I was 20 and in love for the first time. Reading it now, when my understanding of emotional intimacy has evolved to include a willingness to do tedious things with another person, was a completely different experience. I wasn’t rooting for Neil and Brenda anymore; I could see how a life for them would be pretty miserable. Even so, I had to put the book down when Neil was visiting Boston. Related.

In Strange Gardens, Peter Hamm

The Secret Race, Tyler Hamilton

If you’re curious about subcultures and athletics, this book is a good read.

The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway (reread)

This book feels like a secret between Ernest Hemingway and me, and every time I reread it, it becomes funnier and sadder.

* = Didn’t finish.

Previously read: 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007, 2006

Weekly Endorsement: Bringing Down the Horse, Side A

Though occasionally given as a gesture or as a way to transport stolen music, CDs are mostly obsolete now. But CD players are still common in cars, which makes any automotive collection a bit weird. 

Most of my car CDs come from my friend Jordan’s music buying youth. We stopped at her childhood home on the way west. Since she doesn’t have a car or a CD player, she offered her collection,  once developed in $14.99 increments, to me . Though my old CDs are lame, hers are lame in a way I didn’t grow up with. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get into the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. So last time I was home, I brought some of my old CDs back to my car in Denver. 

One such CD was Bringing Down the Horse, the breakout album of the Wallflowers, a 90s band headed by Jakob Dylan. Forgetting about the existential crisis of being pretty decent at something your father remains much better at, and also those eyes, I stand behind Side A of Bringing Down the Horse. This album was produced at a time when people bought a band’s music wholesale. With that in mind, the Wallflowers wisely put their best stuff up front. The album starts with their second hit, “One Headlight,” and continues to their first, “Sixth-Avenue Heartache.”  All of their other singles are within the first five tracks. 

Listening to Side A of Bringing Down the Horse feels like opening a time capsule of mid to late-90s pop. I’m sure someone as handsome and related to fame as Jakob Dylan could be popular now. And I wouldn’t even say the Wallflowers best songs changed anything about pop music. I’m just saying, it’s not a bad few tracks, and listening to the album feels like opening a yearbook.  

Be Thankful, 2012: New Friends

I moved to Colorado without knowing anyone, which was romantic, but also stupid. The practical implications of my rugged individualism turned out to be watching old episodes of 90210 while eating Caesar salad alone. Of course I wanted to meet new people, but I didn’t have much experience actively making friends. My friends were people I had met in school or at work, at times when I wasn’t desperate for or even aware of new companionship. Friends were just people who popped into my life and stayed. 

What I learned moving out to Colorado is that making new friends is a numbers game. You have to meet a lot of jerks to find someone who is cool. For instance, out of three alumni meet-ups I’ve been to, I’ve made one friend. Those odds aren’t bad, but at the first two events, I was pretty depressed to be hanging out with people whose life highlight seemed to be getting into a good college. 

But one advantage of needing to make new friends is being aware of the moment when the person stops being a number in your phone becomes real. The other night, a new friend called me to gossip about the previous night’s party. And even though there’s nothing like an old school friend, one who borrows a book from your mom while you’re out of town, there is something nice about being part of a nascent friendship. 

Weekly Endorsement: Garner’s Usage Tip Email

Do you like learning? Do you like new email? If so, the Garner’s Usage Tip maybe for you. 

The best email I received all week was from them, on the etymology of sour grapes: 

This is one of the most commonly misused idiomatic metaphors. It is not a mere synonym of “envy” or “jealousy.” Rather, as in Aesop’s fable about the fox who wanted the grapes he could not reach, “sour grapes” denotes the human tendency to disparage as undesirable what one really wants but can’t get (or hasn’t gotten). For example, a high-school boy who asks a girl for a date and is turned down might then insult her in all sorts of puerile ways. That’s a case of sour grapes.

I believe Larry David was involved in a movie whose title was a misuse of this expression. I also like the idea of a separate category of bitterness for something wanted and not received. 

Other good things about this email: it comes only Monday to Friday, arrives at a good time in the day (around 10 am MST, right when you could use a new email) and it speaks to the inscrutability of the English language. Like with cooking or running, or really any hobby other than solving basic algebra questions, language is something we can never do perfectly; we can only work at getting better at it. And getting better at things is something I endorse every week. 

I won’t ever cry for you/and you won’t ever shed tears for me … It’s not that I don’t care at all/ we lost touch so long ago/it may be our anniversary, but I, I wouldn’t really know 

Some dates, like the birthdays of people you went to elementary school with, just stick in your head. I wonder if by the time we’re close to death, if every day will start with a memory clouding it. 

Weekly Endorsement: Junot Diaz's Facebook Feed

If you read Junot Diaz, you’re familiar with his omnivorous approach to language. He takes phrases from everything—Spanish, New Jersey, comic books—for the perfect words to tell his story. In The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Lola track friends were ciguapas; in “The Cheater’s Guide to Love,” Elvis sits shiva with Yunior as he tries to get over his ex-girlfriend. With such specificity, it’s not surprising that Diaz publishes rarely. But between books, he’s a prolific poster of news to Facebook. And he posts about everything, from happenings in Hispaniola to immigration in Korea. It’s impossible to know how any writer writes, but seeing what this writer consumes is a close second.

Bonus endorsement: The Annotated Oscar Wao 

In Good Health.

One of my toenails, which I lost in March, has grown in. My left ankle, which I sprained in 2008, feels fine. There’s no swelling under my left kneecap as there was two years ago. My hip, which tends to ache if I stand in the wrong shoes for too long, has been fine. I had some pain along the left side of my rib cage last month, but that’s gone now.  The burn on my arm is healing nicely. I go through a few tissues every morning, but I don’t have the flu. Nothing medically major has happened to me in more than five years. Like family money and unconditional love, good health can feel like an entitlement. It’s something that goes unappreciated, almost unnoticed. But there’s nothing better than being healthy, and if you are, take a moment to appreciate whatever’s not hurting. 

Weekly Endorsement: The 7 Up! Series

A friend I had met as a 15 year-old in summer camp and then again at an internship at 20 was visiting Denver this week for work. Even though he and I have never been completely out of touch and do not reunite every seven years exactly, our friendship reminded me of the great documentary series 7 Up! I recently rewatched 49 Up! in anticipation of his visit. I suggest you do the same, or if you know nothing of this program, start at 7. 

The series is based on the Jesuit maxim, “Give me a child until he is seven, and I will give you the man.” What started as an examination of the British class system in 1964, has continued for 42 years as an exploration of 12 people’s lives in seven year increments. Of all the cultural experiences I’ve had, I can’t think of one that’s affected me more. Even though I don’t know these people in a real way, I’ve also known them for 42 years. There’s a value in just the length of that relationship, and in some ways, the films made me understand and appreciate family in a way I hadn’t before. 

If you’re curious about people and time, this is a good movie. Plus, 56 Up! will be released in America early next year, so you won’t have to wait seven more years to see how later middle age has treated these people. 

Reading A Short Story Collection by a Swiss Author and Remembering

this dinner I had in Lugano, in southern Switzerland, which is basically Italy. It had just become summer,  and we were eating outside. Across from us was a large group of teenagers who had all the beauty and none of the awkwardness of youth. The girls and boys were all moving around their long table, and flirting madly with one another. It seemed to be a night they wouldn’t remember, because that summer would have many nights like that, all out together, the sun not setting until late, the evenings often ending with a darkened swim in a lake. This was more than ten years ago; I was a teenager then, too. I wonder where they all ended up, if any of their pairings or friendships stuck, if they had to grow up and quit smoking cigarettes. 

Weekly Endorsement: Duck Fat

My two favorite ingredients for any recipe are time and money. I’m not one for precision, and measuring cups are almost irrelevant when slow cooking expensive meat. So for my potluck Thanksgiving, I offered to make the turkey. 

I used a recipe for duck fat rubbed turkey from New York Magazine. I can’t endorse this recipe because like most New York Magazine recipes—and many New York Magazine articles—there’s some flash to its concept, but little follow through. The instructions are basically rub duck fat on a turkey and two days later, roast that turkey. I’m still not sure if I did the right thing with the head of garlic, which was listed in the ingredients and never mentioned again. Despite the recipe’s failings, the turkey came out amazing because having a turkey sit in duck fat for two days makes for a rich and delicious bird. 

Which brings me to my endorsement: duck fat. As fats go, this one should be used more. It tastes good, is easily acquired at specialty food shops, and is not as expensive as you’d think. Plus, any recipe involving fat from a duck sounds special, even if you’re only using it to replace the butter in a pot of rice. 

Origin Stories

Thanksgiving is part of every Americans’ origin story, but mine in particular because my parents fell in love over Thanksgiving weekend in 1971. My mom still remembers the check pants my dad wore on Thanksgiving Saturday, their last date before she went back to college in Boston and my dad returned to New York. For that reason, this weekend always holds a certain romance to me. Also, it’s about eating. And I’m into that romance, too.  

Only 3.5 percent of Americans between the ages of 18 and 59 do the minimum amount of physical activity recommended by the Department of Health and Human Services: 150 minutes a week of moderate activity.

If living in New York made me think that everyone reads, living in Colorado has given me a false impression on how active most Americans are.

Weekly Endorsement: Goodbye, Columbus

imageSince Philip Roth announced his retirement last month, there’s been an appreciation of him that would otherwise accompany his obituary, and I endorse this trend.

Philip Roth has been such a fixture of American Literature, that it’s easy to take him for granted. More than take him for granted, to resent him for his misogyny and anti-Semitism. But when Philip Roth started, the New Yorker wouldn’t print a story that had plot points based around a diaphragm. But since then and now, Philip Roth has been a standby, making gloves interesting, flirting with Terry Gross, writing an entire novel about the decay of the body.

I specifically endorse reading, or rereading, Goodbye, Columbus. It seems like the only way to tell a love story, to get into the mechanics of what works, is to tell its break-up and show what didn’t. Brenda and Neil: they’re attracted to each other, but kind of hate the other, and themselves, too. Their self-disregard matches up nicely with the other’s disdain. And while the first part of the novella feels like a love story, there’s foreboding in the title.

There’s an earnestness to Goodbye, Columbus that’s missing from Roth’s later work. The Plot Against America, for example, is an intellectual exercise—what if America became violently anti-Semitic? In fact, a lot of Roth’s later works are a question: What happened to the Swede? What if you were mistook for a racist? Goodbye, Columbus is the story of a girl from Short Hills breaking a boy from Newark’s heart, not the question of what it would be like if that happened.

As for the charges of misogyny and self-hatred go, as anyone who has ever been through a break-up knows, or as The Lumineers put it, the opposite of love is indifference. I’m not saying that Philip Roth’s characters are sweet on women or are abstaining from pork. But their complicated relationships with women and their faith show the significance of both in their lives. 

And just as an aside, my friend whose last name is Roth briefly lived in the same building as Philip Roth. Once Friend Roth said to him, “You’re my favorite writer,” to which the Writer Roth replied, “In the building?” “No,” Friend Roth said. “In the whole world.” Then some time passed, and dry cleaning got delivered to Friend Roth’s apartment, which he accepted, thinking the pants were his stepfather’s, though they are really Writer Roth’s. After the pants were returned to the rightful Roth, Writer Roth acted as if the dry cleaning mix-up were some Larry David-esque attempt on Friend Roth’s part to build a relationship. 

West for the Afternoon

I have a Belgian Aunt-in-Law who lives in L.A. What brought her there was watching an old Hollywood movie on a rainy day in Europe. When a Gene Kelly type reached out his kitchen window and picked an orange off of a tree, she thought, “That is the life for me,” and eventually, she made it her life.  

My Western origin story began in Palm Desert in December, 2008. I was with my then-boyfriend and his friend from L.A., who was driving us to the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway. Among much clutter, she had The 50 Best L.A. Hikes in her car. I didn’t move for another two and a half years, but living someplace where keeping a hiking book in your car made sense, that was the life for me. 

There’s outdoors to do in New York. I’ve even taken public transportation to go kayaking. But a trip to Mohonk or Breakneck Ridge is the whole day. What I wanted was to do an errand in the morning, not be sure what to do with my afternoon, look over to my passenger seat, see a guide book and go from there. 

Of course I don’t keep Run The Rockies: Classic Trail Runs in Colorado’s Front Range in my car. (I’m way too neurotic about time, wicking gear, and clutter.) But I could, and every time I go trail running as just one part of my day, I feel very happy to live in Colorado. 

Weekly Endorsement: Undergrowth With Two Figures

I have been listening to the Slate Culture Gabfest a lot lately. Well, a lot being every week, since that’s how often the podcast comes out. I wouldn’t say the Culture Gabfest is my favorite podcast, but it is the easiest to listen to. Each episode is like a smart person’s dinner party where no one talks about their children or their dogs. And like a dinner party, if you miss any conversation to the sound of washing dishes, it’s not a big deal. 

At the end of each episode, each host endorses something, usually cultural, occasionally esoteric, they have enjoyed in the past week. I think it’s a good practice to recognize one good experience weekly, and I’m going to start. 

My endorsement this week, along with the Slate Culture Gabfest, is “Undergrowth With Two Figures,” a 1890 Van Gogh painting that is now on display at the Denver Art Museum. I had never seen that painting before I went to a lecture on the exhibit. Even though purple on the bark of trees is rare, I know what Van Gogh means. Trees in twilight feel purple. I also like how the two figures sort of seem like trees, how they have the same verticality. Plus, and maybe most importantly, the walk those two figures are going on seems like something they’ll remember, like it’s the moment they fell in love or fell out of it.  

To see this painting, you have to live in Cincinnati, where it is normally shown, or visit the Becoming Van Gogh show at the Denver Art Museum. And for that, I endorse making reservations online and going early.  

#Sandy

I started this evening making asparagus and watching Page One, the documentary about the New York Times. Early on in the movie, someone says, “News will still exist, but the quality will change.” That guy was right on, because I spent the rest of the night on Twitter reading about the Hurricane. During a weather crisis, no well-produced, rumor-free article can be as fast or as easily digestible as 1,000 people spouting information in 140 character increments. But the accuracy isn’t great. Every time I went back to Twitter after doing something analog, I’d read that some story I hadn’t heard about–like ConEd workers being trapped in a power plant–was a rumor. Fifteen tweets down, I’d see the story posted as true.

I still think it’s a little weird that tonight I was getting my news from the same place I get my retweeted GIFs. While 90% of my twitter feed was about Sandy, occasionally, there was news from a bar or a picture of the sunset in L.A. During a national crisis, can we all agree not to send foursquare updates in?