April books
History
For Her Own Good: Two Centuries of Experts' Advice to Women by Barbara Ehenreich and Deirdre English. Ehrenreich and English look at what kind of advice we've been given for the last two hundred years. Although they provide a good deal of social, political, economic, and general background to the development and evolution of experts, the part I found most fascinating was on the creation of what we consider medical doctors. I hadn't realized how culturally specific, oft-changing, and purposefully created our modern conception of medicine is.
For instance, the cultural ancestors of modern doctors were just dudes who had enough money and class status to go to university and learn classical languages. They never learned anatomy or how to treat illnesses in any evidence-based manner. In fact, to maintain their status as "gentlemen," they didn't touch their patients (instead leaving the dispensing of medicines, bone-setting, childbirth, etc to others) or receive payment for their services (they were instead given "gifts"). But given that their medical knowledge was entirely based in classical literature, they were not particularly helpful. Instead, most people used what we now term folk-medicine (practiced by a healer in their area), which *was* mostly evidence-based and very much in line with modern conceptions of medicine (understandings of anatomy, palpating the lymph nodes, knowing what the patient ate, what their stools looked like, etc). But "regular" doctors had the rich on their side, so when science and the scientific method began to gain credence, they were able to lay claim to science first, while simultaneously suing to have all doctors who didn't go to their specific universities be considered criminals if they practiced medicine. It worked! Oh classism. And thus, for the next hundred years or so, the UK and US were left with doctors who had a very narrow understanding of what to look for to judge health. Mental state, nutrition, environment...all of this fell by the way-side.
Ehrenreich and English also talk a bit about how various credentials came to be and the double-binds created by psychologists for women. And don't think women were martyred saints, either--white, middle and upper class women were instrumental in all sorts of bs movements to "improve" the poor and minority groups. Overall, a good read, with nuggets of biting sarcasm to match the facts and anecdotes.
Wake Up Little Susie: Single Pregnancy and Race Before Roe v Wade by Rickie Solinger. What it meant to be pregnant and unwed in the US from 1945 to 1965. Basically, it sucked. But, it sucked for white women and black rather differently. Both were expected to be ashamed, but white women were usually forced into maternity homes, where they could be pregnant in secret, and then give their infant up for a secret adoption (nevertheless, according to a 1957 survey, some ~30% of white women kept their babies). But because there was a demand from prospective adopters for white babies, but not black babies, black women were not offered places in maternity homes, and were expected to raise their babies. Amazingly, white women who petitioned to be allowed to raise their babies were judged unfit by reason of mental instability (after all, what sane woman would ever want to be an unwed mother!), while black women who tried to give their babies up for adoption had a hard time of it--some where even charged with child abandonment! And as for abortions--just by petitioning to have one, a woman proved herself to be so lacking in morality that she deserved the punishment of bearing and raising a child.
So many white unmarried women had the pain of a forced adoption, whereas many black unmarried women had the pain of forced child-rearing. And then, for extra fun, the black women who were forced to keep their children were thought to prove that black people were just naturally so animalistic that they couldn't think straight enough to not have sex and bear lots of babies. And ooh, also, they were the cause of all social programs and poverty in America! Which is particularly funny, cuz most social programs not only paid barely enough to keep people alive, but also, excluded people of color!
This was a stunning book, and I pretty much wanted to cry and rage half the time I was reading it. I found it such hard going, in fact, that I ran out of library time and have to return it, having only skimmed the last few chapters. I'm sure there's some important stuff in here that I've missed.
A few quotes I found particularly worthwhile:
"Race, in the end, was the most accurate predictor of an unwed mother's parents' response to her pregnancy; of society's reaction to her plight; of where and how she would spend the months of her pregnancy; and most important, the most accurate predictor of what she would do with the 'fatherless' child she bore, and of how being mother to such a child would affect the rest of her life...race-specific public and private responses to single pregnancy, between 1945 and 1965, have profoundly influenced the race-rent politics of female fertility in our time."
"An unmarried black pregnant girl looking for help in the early decades of the twentieth century could probably have found assistance only within her own family and community. Most maternity homes excluded blacks; most of the few government assistance programs that existed excluded unmarried mothers."
"White illegitimacy was generally not perceived as a 'cultural' or racial defect, or as a public expense, so the stigma suffered by the white unwed mother was individual and familial. Black women, illegitimately pregnant, were not shamed but simply blamed, blamed for the population explosion, for escalating welfare costs, for the existence of unwanted babies, and blamed for the tenacious grip of poverty on blacks in America. There was no redemption possible for these women, only the retribution of sterilization, harassment by welfare officials, and public policies that threatened to starve them and their babies."
Misc.
The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell. Funny little essays, mostly about US history and politics. I really liked Vowell in her Daily Show interview, but these fell flat for me. She's obviously funny and thoughtful and well-informed--but not any more than most of my friends. I never giggled out loud, or realized something new, or learned a neat tidbit about history. I learned a bit about Sarah Vowell, and she seems cool--but that's not enough to power an entire collection.
The Stanbroke Girls by Fiona Hill. Witty Elizabeth and her younger, melodramatic sister Isabella Stanbroke have finally Come Out into regency England Society. Meanwhile, the Earl of Marchmont is being forced by his sensible spinster sister Emilia to find a wife and sire an heir before the year is out. His experiences in the army, and the mockery of his first love, make him wary, but Elizabeth's clever comebacks intrigue him. But the course of true love ne'er did run smooth. The Earl's current heir, the duplicitous rake Jeffery de Guere, decides to make trouble by seducing Isabella. And meanwhile, the Stanbroke girls' best friend is deeply in love with their older brother, and makes herself miserable about it.
And yet somehow, all of these romances add up to very little. The author flits from one couple to the next, never spending long enough with any one character. By the end of the book, I knew exactly as much about each character as I did within the first couple pages of their introduction. I didn't care at all about what happened to these cardboard cut-outs.
I'm tired of regencies that are just Austen novels mashed together, but without any of the scathing critiques of society or relatable characters that make Austen's novels so great. Blegh.
Deception by Amanda Quick. Immensely wealthy viscount falls in love with scholarly, absent-minded lady, poses as the tutor of her 3 unruly nephews, and has sex with her, all in the first fifty pages. The rest of the book is a slap-dash whirl of euphemistic sex scenes, non-sensical schemes, and laughable dialog and characterization. The one point in this book's favor is that it has not one, but two lesbian couples, both of whom live perfectly nice lives and are perfectly ordinary, nice people. But don't be drawn in by the promise of a Sapphic regency, as I was! This book is a paint-by-the-numbers job, and not worth opening the front cover.
The Winds of Marble Arch by Connie Willis. I love Connie Willis, but her rapid-fire dialog and interweaving plots start to feel a little tiring after the fifth or sixth short story in a row. This is definitely not a book to read all in one week. That said, every one of these stories is fantastic.
Dead in the Water by Carola Dunn.
Sixth in the Daisy Dalrymple mystery series. After insulting every member of his rowing team, a young titled man dies during a boat race. Daisy and her boyfriend, an inspector with Scotland Yard, sift through the clues.
I think my main problem with this book is really just my problem with the sub-genre itself--I'm tired of slightly quirky characters who stumble upon mysteries in quaint English surroundings. The main character doesn't change or learn anything, and her relationships with other characters don't alter to any real degree. Usually these books are at least good for a few moments of humor, the brain puzzle of guessing whodunnit, and a little window into a historical period. But by book 6 of this series, it's all starting to wear thin. I really hope that something big happens in the next book to shake up Daisy and the comfortable groove this series has found.
Geektastic ed by Holly Black. Like most collections, this has its good stories and its bad.
It begins with the punchy "Once You're a Jedi, You're a Jedi All the Way," a really enjoyable piece by Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci. I loved it because it was both about geekery (Klingons vs Jedi, the ideas of the purpose behind anger and gender in Star Wars vs Star Trek) and about being a young adult geek. It felt fresh and imaginative, and not only did I like the main characters, but I got a good feel for them, too.
The cartoons by Bryan Lee O'Malley, Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci are funny and cute, and are a great divider between each story.
Sadly, the next few aren't so good.
In Tracy Lynn's "One of Us," a cheerleader pays a group of geeks to teach her how to appreciate her boyfriend's geeky pursuits. Completely reliant upon stereotypes, with a very cliched "teen movie" sort of plot.
Surprisingly, Scott Westerfeld's "Definitional Chaos" is probably the weakest of the bunch. 20 pages of breaking down the very basic differences between alignments. The characters are completely unbelievable--I couldn't figure out what age they were supposed to be, let alone anything else about them.
Cassandra Clare's "I Never," about two girls who go to a meetup for their internet rping group, is pretty banal. I didn't like the characters, but the basic story is good.
"The King of Pelinesse" by M.T. Anderson is really well written, but not to my taste. A teenager in the 1940s/50s(?) finds out that his favorite author has been having an affair with his mom. An interesting insight into pulp fantasy novels and a long-gone historical period.
I liked "The Wrath of Dawn," by the Leitich Smiths. I got a real feel for the characters and their problems.
I also really liked "Quiz Bowl Antichrist" by David Levithan, about the inner works of a quiz bowl team. I found this to be the most important story of the collection, the one I wish more geeks would read and understand. The difference between snark and humor, the anger underpinning sarcasm, the relative importance of trivia, and owning up to one's own identity as a geek.
Garth Nix's "The Quiet Knight" is a short, sweet little tale about using lessons from role-playing in "real life". As someone who learned most of my social skills and confidence from LARPing, I really liked this.
"Everyone But You" by Lisa Yee is about a poor pep squad girl from Ohio who moves to Hawai'i, where she finds that everything that made her cool now makes her mockable.
"Secret Identity" by Kelly Link is terrible and inexplicable and seems to go on forever.
"Freak the Geek" by John Green, contains some really great moments that read very true to me. To whit: "No one would think of me as pretty at Hoover. Being pretty here involves so much more than just being pretty, and frankly I don't have time for it." and the fights between the geeks about whose fault it is that they're being targeted.
"The Truth About Dino Girl" by Barry Lyga is terrible terrible terrible. And here is why. Because I really liked the first thirty pages, about a girl whose love of dinosaurs is matched only by her crush on a popular boy. I liked the girl, I liked her inner monologue and her smarts and her lack of social graces. But then, she decides to get even. And she does it by pasting pictures of her nemesis everywhere, with "DO YOU LIKE SEX? SHE DOES!!! TRUST ME--SHE LOVES IT!!! I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE--COUNTLESS TIMES!!!" written underneath. And the girl's life is ruined, because everyone thinks she's a slut. hahah! Such a fabulous revenge, right? I mean, there's pretty much nothing better than slut-shaming! And now the geek girl has her revenge and social confidence! Yay! And by "yay" I mean I want to vomit with rage.
There is no reason to read "This is My Audition Monologue" by Sara Zarr.
"The Stars at the Finish Line" by Wendy Mass is a really sweet story about two kids who have been rivals for years, because they each want to be an astronaut, and to be an astronaut you have to be the best.
Libba Bray's "It's Just a Jump to the Left," is about Rocky Horror fans and that uncomfortable period between playing with dolls and understanding sex jokes.
For Her Own Good: Two Centuries of Experts' Advice to Women by Barbara Ehenreich and Deirdre English. Ehrenreich and English look at what kind of advice we've been given for the last two hundred years. Although they provide a good deal of social, political, economic, and general background to the development and evolution of experts, the part I found most fascinating was on the creation of what we consider medical doctors. I hadn't realized how culturally specific, oft-changing, and purposefully created our modern conception of medicine is.
For instance, the cultural ancestors of modern doctors were just dudes who had enough money and class status to go to university and learn classical languages. They never learned anatomy or how to treat illnesses in any evidence-based manner. In fact, to maintain their status as "gentlemen," they didn't touch their patients (instead leaving the dispensing of medicines, bone-setting, childbirth, etc to others) or receive payment for their services (they were instead given "gifts"). But given that their medical knowledge was entirely based in classical literature, they were not particularly helpful. Instead, most people used what we now term folk-medicine (practiced by a healer in their area), which *was* mostly evidence-based and very much in line with modern conceptions of medicine (understandings of anatomy, palpating the lymph nodes, knowing what the patient ate, what their stools looked like, etc). But "regular" doctors had the rich on their side, so when science and the scientific method began to gain credence, they were able to lay claim to science first, while simultaneously suing to have all doctors who didn't go to their specific universities be considered criminals if they practiced medicine. It worked! Oh classism. And thus, for the next hundred years or so, the UK and US were left with doctors who had a very narrow understanding of what to look for to judge health. Mental state, nutrition, environment...all of this fell by the way-side.
Ehrenreich and English also talk a bit about how various credentials came to be and the double-binds created by psychologists for women. And don't think women were martyred saints, either--white, middle and upper class women were instrumental in all sorts of bs movements to "improve" the poor and minority groups. Overall, a good read, with nuggets of biting sarcasm to match the facts and anecdotes.
Wake Up Little Susie: Single Pregnancy and Race Before Roe v Wade by Rickie Solinger. What it meant to be pregnant and unwed in the US from 1945 to 1965. Basically, it sucked. But, it sucked for white women and black rather differently. Both were expected to be ashamed, but white women were usually forced into maternity homes, where they could be pregnant in secret, and then give their infant up for a secret adoption (nevertheless, according to a 1957 survey, some ~30% of white women kept their babies). But because there was a demand from prospective adopters for white babies, but not black babies, black women were not offered places in maternity homes, and were expected to raise their babies. Amazingly, white women who petitioned to be allowed to raise their babies were judged unfit by reason of mental instability (after all, what sane woman would ever want to be an unwed mother!), while black women who tried to give their babies up for adoption had a hard time of it--some where even charged with child abandonment! And as for abortions--just by petitioning to have one, a woman proved herself to be so lacking in morality that she deserved the punishment of bearing and raising a child.
So many white unmarried women had the pain of a forced adoption, whereas many black unmarried women had the pain of forced child-rearing. And then, for extra fun, the black women who were forced to keep their children were thought to prove that black people were just naturally so animalistic that they couldn't think straight enough to not have sex and bear lots of babies. And ooh, also, they were the cause of all social programs and poverty in America! Which is particularly funny, cuz most social programs not only paid barely enough to keep people alive, but also, excluded people of color!
This was a stunning book, and I pretty much wanted to cry and rage half the time I was reading it. I found it such hard going, in fact, that I ran out of library time and have to return it, having only skimmed the last few chapters. I'm sure there's some important stuff in here that I've missed.
A few quotes I found particularly worthwhile:
"Race, in the end, was the most accurate predictor of an unwed mother's parents' response to her pregnancy; of society's reaction to her plight; of where and how she would spend the months of her pregnancy; and most important, the most accurate predictor of what she would do with the 'fatherless' child she bore, and of how being mother to such a child would affect the rest of her life...race-specific public and private responses to single pregnancy, between 1945 and 1965, have profoundly influenced the race-rent politics of female fertility in our time."
"An unmarried black pregnant girl looking for help in the early decades of the twentieth century could probably have found assistance only within her own family and community. Most maternity homes excluded blacks; most of the few government assistance programs that existed excluded unmarried mothers."
"White illegitimacy was generally not perceived as a 'cultural' or racial defect, or as a public expense, so the stigma suffered by the white unwed mother was individual and familial. Black women, illegitimately pregnant, were not shamed but simply blamed, blamed for the population explosion, for escalating welfare costs, for the existence of unwanted babies, and blamed for the tenacious grip of poverty on blacks in America. There was no redemption possible for these women, only the retribution of sterilization, harassment by welfare officials, and public policies that threatened to starve them and their babies."
Misc.
The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell. Funny little essays, mostly about US history and politics. I really liked Vowell in her Daily Show interview, but these fell flat for me. She's obviously funny and thoughtful and well-informed--but not any more than most of my friends. I never giggled out loud, or realized something new, or learned a neat tidbit about history. I learned a bit about Sarah Vowell, and she seems cool--but that's not enough to power an entire collection.
The Stanbroke Girls by Fiona Hill. Witty Elizabeth and her younger, melodramatic sister Isabella Stanbroke have finally Come Out into regency England Society. Meanwhile, the Earl of Marchmont is being forced by his sensible spinster sister Emilia to find a wife and sire an heir before the year is out. His experiences in the army, and the mockery of his first love, make him wary, but Elizabeth's clever comebacks intrigue him. But the course of true love ne'er did run smooth. The Earl's current heir, the duplicitous rake Jeffery de Guere, decides to make trouble by seducing Isabella. And meanwhile, the Stanbroke girls' best friend is deeply in love with their older brother, and makes herself miserable about it.
And yet somehow, all of these romances add up to very little. The author flits from one couple to the next, never spending long enough with any one character. By the end of the book, I knew exactly as much about each character as I did within the first couple pages of their introduction. I didn't care at all about what happened to these cardboard cut-outs.
I'm tired of regencies that are just Austen novels mashed together, but without any of the scathing critiques of society or relatable characters that make Austen's novels so great. Blegh.
Deception by Amanda Quick. Immensely wealthy viscount falls in love with scholarly, absent-minded lady, poses as the tutor of her 3 unruly nephews, and has sex with her, all in the first fifty pages. The rest of the book is a slap-dash whirl of euphemistic sex scenes, non-sensical schemes, and laughable dialog and characterization. The one point in this book's favor is that it has not one, but two lesbian couples, both of whom live perfectly nice lives and are perfectly ordinary, nice people. But don't be drawn in by the promise of a Sapphic regency, as I was! This book is a paint-by-the-numbers job, and not worth opening the front cover.
The Winds of Marble Arch by Connie Willis. I love Connie Willis, but her rapid-fire dialog and interweaving plots start to feel a little tiring after the fifth or sixth short story in a row. This is definitely not a book to read all in one week. That said, every one of these stories is fantastic.
Dead in the Water by Carola Dunn.
Sixth in the Daisy Dalrymple mystery series. After insulting every member of his rowing team, a young titled man dies during a boat race. Daisy and her boyfriend, an inspector with Scotland Yard, sift through the clues.
I think my main problem with this book is really just my problem with the sub-genre itself--I'm tired of slightly quirky characters who stumble upon mysteries in quaint English surroundings. The main character doesn't change or learn anything, and her relationships with other characters don't alter to any real degree. Usually these books are at least good for a few moments of humor, the brain puzzle of guessing whodunnit, and a little window into a historical period. But by book 6 of this series, it's all starting to wear thin. I really hope that something big happens in the next book to shake up Daisy and the comfortable groove this series has found.
Geektastic ed by Holly Black. Like most collections, this has its good stories and its bad.
It begins with the punchy "Once You're a Jedi, You're a Jedi All the Way," a really enjoyable piece by Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci. I loved it because it was both about geekery (Klingons vs Jedi, the ideas of the purpose behind anger and gender in Star Wars vs Star Trek) and about being a young adult geek. It felt fresh and imaginative, and not only did I like the main characters, but I got a good feel for them, too.
The cartoons by Bryan Lee O'Malley, Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci are funny and cute, and are a great divider between each story.
Sadly, the next few aren't so good.
In Tracy Lynn's "One of Us," a cheerleader pays a group of geeks to teach her how to appreciate her boyfriend's geeky pursuits. Completely reliant upon stereotypes, with a very cliched "teen movie" sort of plot.
Surprisingly, Scott Westerfeld's "Definitional Chaos" is probably the weakest of the bunch. 20 pages of breaking down the very basic differences between alignments. The characters are completely unbelievable--I couldn't figure out what age they were supposed to be, let alone anything else about them.
Cassandra Clare's "I Never," about two girls who go to a meetup for their internet rping group, is pretty banal. I didn't like the characters, but the basic story is good.
"The King of Pelinesse" by M.T. Anderson is really well written, but not to my taste. A teenager in the 1940s/50s(?) finds out that his favorite author has been having an affair with his mom. An interesting insight into pulp fantasy novels and a long-gone historical period.
I liked "The Wrath of Dawn," by the Leitich Smiths. I got a real feel for the characters and their problems.
I also really liked "Quiz Bowl Antichrist" by David Levithan, about the inner works of a quiz bowl team. I found this to be the most important story of the collection, the one I wish more geeks would read and understand. The difference between snark and humor, the anger underpinning sarcasm, the relative importance of trivia, and owning up to one's own identity as a geek.
Garth Nix's "The Quiet Knight" is a short, sweet little tale about using lessons from role-playing in "real life". As someone who learned most of my social skills and confidence from LARPing, I really liked this.
"Everyone But You" by Lisa Yee is about a poor pep squad girl from Ohio who moves to Hawai'i, where she finds that everything that made her cool now makes her mockable.
"Secret Identity" by Kelly Link is terrible and inexplicable and seems to go on forever.
"Freak the Geek" by John Green, contains some really great moments that read very true to me. To whit: "No one would think of me as pretty at Hoover. Being pretty here involves so much more than just being pretty, and frankly I don't have time for it." and the fights between the geeks about whose fault it is that they're being targeted.
"The Truth About Dino Girl" by Barry Lyga is terrible terrible terrible. And here is why. Because I really liked the first thirty pages, about a girl whose love of dinosaurs is matched only by her crush on a popular boy. I liked the girl, I liked her inner monologue and her smarts and her lack of social graces. But then, she decides to get even. And she does it by pasting pictures of her nemesis everywhere, with "DO YOU LIKE SEX? SHE DOES!!! TRUST ME--SHE LOVES IT!!! I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE--COUNTLESS TIMES!!!" written underneath. And the girl's life is ruined, because everyone thinks she's a slut. hahah! Such a fabulous revenge, right? I mean, there's pretty much nothing better than slut-shaming! And now the geek girl has her revenge and social confidence! Yay! And by "yay" I mean I want to vomit with rage.
There is no reason to read "This is My Audition Monologue" by Sara Zarr.
"The Stars at the Finish Line" by Wendy Mass is a really sweet story about two kids who have been rivals for years, because they each want to be an astronaut, and to be an astronaut you have to be the best.
Libba Bray's "It's Just a Jump to the Left," is about Rocky Horror fans and that uncomfortable period between playing with dolls and understanding sex jokes.