Monday, April 2nd

I thought I’d pop in with a quick update on The PIBC. The plan has always been to discuss the book club pick on the last day of the month, but since the 31st falls on a Saturday, I decided to move the discussion date for The Book Thief to Monday, April 2nd. This gives everyone the weekend to finish (or start) the book and it gives me a little time to try and think of something intelligent to say. Odds are I’ll clam up when it comes time to write the post and then find inspiration by reading your comments. Y’all are a smart bunch, and I’d be lying if I said writing any sort of review (even tongue in cheek ones on Mad Men) wasn’t intimidating. That said, I’m looking forward to talking on Monday. These posts where we have long discussions about the minutia we’ve found tucked within the pages of a book are fast becoming my favorites.

The Phenomenally Indecisive Book Club | April | An Everlasting Meal

Our first month we read general fiction. Then, young adult. Next month, I want to dip a toe into nonfiction. An Everlasting Meal by Tamar Adler is not a food memoir. It’s a collection of essays and instructions on instinctive cooking: cooking without recipes, making do with the odds and ends in the cupboards, and eating well. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.

So far, everything I’ve heard is great, despite this book being a modern revival of the culinary favorite, How to Cook a Wolf by M. F. K. Fisher, a book published in 1942 to help home cooks make due with wartime food shortages. It’s a bold and risky move to base your book on a classic, and it says something that so far it has been well received.

I took this blurb from the dust jacket:

Through the insightful essays in An Everlasting Meal, Tamar Adler issues a rallying cry to home cooks.

In chapters about boiling water, cooking eggs and beans, and summoning respectable meals from empty cupboards, Tamar weaves philosophy and instruction into approachable lessons on instinctive cooking. Tamar shows how to make the most of everything you buy, demonstrating what the world’s great chefs know: that great meals rely on the bones and peels and ends of meals before them.

She explains how to smarten up simple food and gives advice for fixing dishes gone awry. She recommends turning to neglected onions, celery, and potatoes for inexpensive meals that taste full of fresh vegetables, and cooking meat and fish resourcefully.

By wresting cooking from doctrine and doldrums, Tamar encourages readers to begin from wherever they are, with whatever they have. An Everlasting Meal is elegant testimony to the value of cooking and an empowering, indispensable tool for eaters today.

I’m a good home cook, a fair utilizer of resources, and a poor planner. My hope is that An Everlasting Meal inspires and teaches me to cook with economy and grace. It’s in the title, so I don’t think it’s an unreasonable expectation.

I bought my copy of the book on Sunday, but I also contacted the publicist at Scribner/Simon Schuster and asked for copies to share with those who are unable to purchase a hardcover new release at this time. I haven’t heard anything, yet. Fingers crossed they take interest! If you know someone who works there and can put in a good word for our book club, I’d be forever grateful. Of course, it goes without saying that you should try your library. I couldn’t find it at mine, but maybe yours is better stocked with new releases.

Tamar Adler, the author, is young, hip, has a gorgeous website, and uses modern media to her advantage. She’s produced several videos to summarize a few of the chapters in An Everlasting Meal. These videos are for Chapter 3, How to Stride Ahead. I hope you like them, and I hope you join me in reading the book.

A Memoir for April

That’s what I’m thinking, but I’m open to suggestions. I would love to steer clear from, I don’t know, cancer, death, war, insanity, child abuse, genocide, and things that blow. That would be my only request. I’ll read about someone with a difficult mother, but only if at the end everyone is in a relative state of happiness. I hunted around Goodreads to see what memoirs everyone is enjoying, and it looks like food ones are always good. Homesteading and chickens seem a popular choice, too.

I’m thinking maybe a food one or a homesteading one. My goal is to close the book and say something as important as, “That recipe for aspic sure looks swell!” or “I don’t know about you, but Australorps are my favorite egg laying hen, hands down.”

p.s. Yesterday was awesome. Thanks for having such an interesting conversation with me regarding mythology, violence, whether to monitor our kids reading, and how books can be both addictive and disturbing.

Undecided

I started The Hunger Games Trilogy on Friday and finished it Monday night. I’m not sure what to think. I gave them average marks on Goodreads (3, 2, and 2) but that might change because hours later I am still thinking about the series. Books that compel thought deserve marks for that alone, which is one of the reasons why I think the Goodreads ranking system, wonderful though it may be, is flawed.

I gave Bet Me by Jenny Crusie and The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco 4 stars. They are not the same.

So when I say I “liked” The Hunger Games and thought Catching Fire and Mockingjay were “okay,” I mean that in a way that says nothing. Because right now, I’m confused.

The pacing of the first book exceeded expectations. Collins impressed me with her ability to maintain tension for well over 60 pages. I stayed up until 2:39am (I checked) to finish the first book. The second book didn’t grab me until a similar climatic event occurred in the second half. Once again, Collins had me on the edge of my seat, and her history of working in television came as no surprise. The third book failed to do the same. There were parts I loved, especially with Peeta. (No spoilers.) But, for the most part, the series ended for me with the gentle slide of a sad trombone.

I’m finding difficultly expressing my dismay–if I can call it that–with the series without giving away major plot points for those who are still reading. I admit that part of it may come from reading over 1,000 pages in four days. You can have too much of a good thing, and that may be the case here. But, what disheartens me most–and what I can talk about since it doesn’t involve plot–is that this is a book for children age 12 and up.

I don’t see it.

I understand the argument that these are book best understood in layers, and that only the older, more mature readers will grasp the larger construct of the novels. Forgive me if I argue that a 12 year old (a child 4 years and 3 months older than Mikey) can pick up elsewhere lessons on friendship, adventure, and love of family. The themes in the third book were so mature, so complex and, ultimately, so depressing, I can’t imagine a 12 year old understanding 25% of the takeaway. Children may very well love these books  because they are too young to understand what they are reading. I understood most of it and finished the series utterly dejected.

I picked up most of the references to the debauchery of the Roman Empire. I felt the way the tributes were treated upon their return harkened back to the treatment of veterans after the Vietnam War, and could easily see commentary on our culture’s obsession with reality TV, 24 hour news, and glamorized, impersonal war. But it’s only in reading about the books elsewhere that I discovered major references to Greek mythology (the myth of minotaurs and Theseus my two major oversights). I consider myself fairly educated, but I feel like I could drag these books with a fine-toothed comb and pull out half a dozen theses on topics ranging from poverty to feminism.

I don’t know. I need to think about this series some more before I make a final decision. I may reread them over the summer. Certainly, I’m in the minority if I conclude this series isn’t all that. On Goodreads one 1-star reviewer (that means “didn’t like it”) received over 700 comments, many questioning her ability to read or think. People, please.

In other news, I need to start reviewing books for the April book club selection. After reading this series and starting The Book Thief next, I’m looking for something funny or at the very least not so damn existential. Any suggestions?

 

Rules of Civility: Discussion!

The day is here to discuss Rules of Civility! What did you think of the novel? I waited until four days ago to start the book, and while I finished it with time to spare (yesterday, just after lunch) I won’t do that again. I felt rushed, and didn’t take the time to enjoy the dialogue, which was really quite good. I’m going to start reading next month’s book straight away.

I don’t want to taint the conversation with my opinions before it even gets started, so let’s meet in the comment section and see if you gave it the same rating I did.