2024 #25: Looking for Spinoza (Damasio)

 

Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain by António Damásio
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I love genre-less books...or at least ones that don't fit neatly into one category. This book is chockfull of accessible neuroscience with helpful diagrams, but it is also a memoir of searching, of curiosity, of embracing the past to understand the present. Damasio makes a strong case that Spinoza was ahead of the game in terms of understanding feeling and emotion in terms of a body-mind connection, but this is no dry scientific work of Spinozan-apologetics. Damasio embraces humanistic inquiry, contextualizing Spinoza's work in a well-researched (and sometimes suprisingly enjoyably sentimental) study of his life. Anathematized from the Sephardic community in Amsterdam, Spinoza's identity during his life was well-known, but his ideas were sub rosa. The inverse was to be his legacy (257). With this study, Damasio contends that Spinoza was a "forerunner of modern biological thinking" (259) in a very important and specific way. He does not resort to hero-worship--Damasio is clear regarding where he think Spinoza misses the mark. But in this book, the result of his "quiet simmering of hints and reflections" (263-4)--one of the best descriptions of the historian's craft I've encountered--Damasio concludes the big takeaway from Spinoza is that "Science can be combined with the best of a humanist tradition to permit a new approach to human affairs and lead to human flourishing." (283). But he is more expansive yet, making the case that our brain, with all its mappings and homeostatic processes and endeavor for self-preservation, is crucial in carrying out Spinoza's "virtuous life in civitas" (274), and that ultimately, even in the face of all we see in the news, "there simply is no alternative to believing we can make a difference." (288)

View all my reviews

2024 #24 A Prayer for the Damned -- Sister Fidelma #17 (Tremayne)

 

A Prayer for the Damned by Peter Tremayne
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

People have gathered far and wide for a wedding in Cashel.
The story is fairly political at the outset--we learn about a group of Saxon brothers (Noavan, Berrihert, and Pecanum) seeking asylum and refugee status and Eadulf is asked to vouch for them. The main antagonist is Bishop Ultan, a misogynistic zealot who is very much against conhospitae and any other more progressive interpretations of Christianity. Most interesting is that we learn more about Fidelma's own views of her faith and choice to be a Sister. There are more elements of character development and intrigue than in some of the earlier installments of the series.

Tremayne also fills in details of medieval Celtic law that he has introduced in earlier volumes, such as the troscud, the ritual fast "to ensure the defendant accepts judgement." We are given details about the nuanced process--if the defendant agrees to settle and the plaintiff is notified and continues to fast, that forfeits the claim! These little legal details actual come to play an important part in the story. Funeral rites are also explained in detail as are cultural details tied to the Fenechus, the Brehon law system.

As Fidelma herself notes, it is an interesting case because there are so many suspects with a motive, at least for the first murder. That said, the actual culprit seemed a bit far-fetched for me and it relied upon a lot of information not revealed in the book. Still, definitely a good read and rewarding for those who are reading the entire series.

View all my reviews

2024 #23 The Servant's Tale - Dame Frevisse #2 (Frazer)

 

The Servant's Tale by Margaret Frazer
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

A good second installment in the Sister Frevisse series, probably more of a 3.5 or 3.75 for me. The servant, Meg, works for the nuns at St. Frideswide as a scullery maid. Her husband, the drunken Barnaby, is allegedly killed in an accident when his cart collides with a troupe of actors. Soon to follow are two more deaths, and the acting troupe is in the frame. Frazer highlights the social and class biases at play against the troupe and we get more character development of Sister Frevisse and the head of the convent, Domina Edith, as well as Dame Claire, the apothecary/medical person for the convent. I found the development slow, as many pages are given over to sitting around dead bodies, although this does prove important to the story. It is probably best read in just a few sittings to keep track of some of the smaller details, not all of which necessarily lean toward the "whodunnit" aspect, but provide a lovely and clever sense of connectivity. Motives seem weak for all possible suspects, and that is a bit frustrating as we don't learn the actual motive until the very end, which always seems a bit of a cop-out to me. There are not a lot of clues in this one--but plenty of deception.

View all my reviews

2024 #22 Eight Flavors: The Untold Story of American Cuisine (Lohman)

 

Cross-posted at Lady of Shallots 

Eight Flavors: The Untold Story of American Cuisine by Sarah Lohman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The best food histories are just histories. Sarah Lohman captures a whole lot of history in narratives about eight flavors that she feels best define American cuisine: black pepper, vanilla, chili powder, curry powder, soy sauce, garlic, monosodium glutamate (MSG), and sriracha. I could feel my resistance when I read MSG, but it is worth quoting the book here:

Today there’s a double standard when it comes to the perception of MSG. If it’s in Chinese takeout, it’s called MSG, and it’s like poison. But when MSG is utilized by high-end American chefs and brands, it referred to as “Umami" and it’s celebrated as revolutionary. Although [Kikunae] Ikeda named this taste umami in 1907, the designation wasn’t accepted officially by the scientific community until 2000, when taste receptors on the tongue were specifically identified for glutamate. Umami became the fifth official taste, alongside sweet, salty, bitter, and sour.(193)

That was a bit of a mic drop moment for me because I had honestly never really made the connection. Although I've not lived in fear of MSG, I certainly grew up hearing about its various pros and cons (mostly cons). But I'm beginning to appreciate more and more how we fear "chemicals" by virtue of that nomenclature alone, never really considering that nature and chemistry are bedfellows a good portion of the time.

But the book is also a story of people--like the Chili Queens of San Antonio and William Gebhardt who used their chili con carne as the inspiration for his chili powder. Or the mysterious Ranji Smile and his role in popularizing curries in the U.S. Or how anti-Italian sentiments in the late 1930s made garlic vile in spaghetti, but a charm in Provençal/French cuisine. The story of David Tran, inventor of sriracha (inspired by a Thai sauce called Sriraja Panich, invented in 1949 by a woman named Ms. Thanom Chakkapak), was one of the most riveting, as Lohman narrates Tran's journey from Vietnam aboard a Panamanian freighter to Hong Kong, then to Boston (briefly), finally to California, birthplace and home of that blend of chili mash, garlic, sugar, and xantham gum that has become beloved sriracha.

Lohman writes conversationally and weaves together anecdotes and research in the best of ways. This is a great read for anyone who likes to cook or likes to eat (or at least care about what they eat). Lohman illuminates the narratives in our food, and carefully extracts specific flavors that deserve recognition instead of being smothered with the falsehood of the American "melting pot."



View all my reviews

2024 #21 Master of Souls - Sister Fidelma #16 (Tremayne)

 

Master of Souls by Peter Tremayne
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I do recommend NOT studying the list of principal characters too closely before reading the book, although I don't know that it really spoiled much for me. This volume picks up after the events in The Leper's Bell, and the series as a whole seems to have more continuity now. Unfortunately, my own read of The Leper's Bell was a good long time ago, so I probably should have reread it...it isn't totally necessary, but I would have had a stronger connection to some of the characters, such as Gannica. I'll leave off too much plot description because it could very easily lead to spoilers, but the political strife between the Uí Fidgente and Cashel continues, despite the fragile peace under Donennach.

On the whole, the character development continues to mature. Tremayne uses Fidelma and Eadulf to show varying perspectives on Christianity--Fidelma is tolerant of the old ways, making space for "finding God in his own way" (203) in deference to the proud Pagan Gáeth. Eadulf, on the other hand, has the fervor of a young convert, and tends to be judgmental and one-dimensional in his thinking (occasionally).

I was particularly interested in some continuity of what seemed to be minutiae. Tremayne revisits a chant "Regem regnum rogamus in nostris sermonibus" which is sung in two languages to a "Gallic" chant melody, and this same song also appears in The Monk who Vanished, supposedly composed by one Colmán moccu Clusaif/mac Uí Clusaim who helped his people during the threat of the Yellow Plague. I was unable to find an actual historical person by this name, but my guess is that there is a model here for Tremayne. These little details, however, keep me coming back for more. I've started a list of concordances that I may turn into a wiki at some point.

The copyediting and editing is still not great, however (some library patron took to the copy I read with a pencil, thankfully). We also get unnecessary repetition, such as when we are told "Eadulf, who knew something of the healing arts..." (193) when that has already been on display earlier in the book. There does seem to be a little less repetition of Fidelma's status as a dalaigh, qualified to the level of anruth, and when she can sit in the presence of a king, etc. etc within a single volume now, so that is an improvement.

The development was slow in this one, but things get moving rather quickly once Fidelma, Conrí, and Eadulf set sail for an island. The details regarding the scriptorium and copying are interesting, and there are some more colorful characters including Slébéne, chief of the Corco Duibhne. I'm very glad that Conrí, who we first meet in Badger's Moon, I believe, seems to have a returning presence in the series. He is one of the more complex characters in the narrative of the Uí Fidgente.

Overall a really good installment and I'll looking forward to learning more as the political intrigue is bound to return.


View all my reviews

2024 #20: The Land of Milk and Honey (Zhang)

 

Land of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What a very beautiful and disturbing book. It is not dystopic in a clichéd sort of way and the writing is poetry. It is memoir (fictional, yes, but memoir all the same). It is speculative fiction. Eunice Wong's reading is perfection, with just the right amount of gravitas with an equanimity that helps us understand (hear her talk about it here). What is sensuous in food and in life becomes ethically blurry when most of the world is overtaken by a smog of debatable origin and the protagonist, a former cook, goes to work for a mysterious employer on a mountain in Italy, above the smog (and above the rules of living below, it would seem). Privilege is redefined and reframed, disguised as innovation.

The imagery and descriptive writing is phenomenal. Zhang is deliberate in linking language across the story: the "calculus of loss" becomes the "connoisseurship of loss"--a subtle juxtaposition spaced several chapters apart, easy to miss. Metaphors abound: "...as I would not serve bitter greens without the consolation of oil, I began to keep back my less palatable feelings..." The insights, too, are plentiful: "Across the years it is hard to make out this version of myself, so blinkered by ambition that she sprinted through thirty years without asking, why?"

It was a slower "read" for me than I anticipated, but there is, forgive me, much to chew upon.

View all my reviews

2024 #19 The Witch Elm (French)

 

The Witch Elm by Tana French
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I think I came to this with unfair bias. My only previous experience with French's work was The Searcher, which I read in 2022, and I enjoyed. That is more of a traditional mystery, whereas this is more of a character study/novel (it does in fact say "a novel" on the front cover)? I also think I might have been better served by the print version as I found Paul Nugent's performance in the audiobook rather overwrought.

All that said, it doesn't help that the protagonist (and the vast majority of the characters) is just not that likeable. Toby is "always lucky" we are told, and he and his buddies, Sean and Declan, are hyper-masculine clichés, steeped in bro culture that is magnified in a seemingly endless scene at a pub between the three of them. Likewise, Toby's two closest cousins, Leon and Susannah, also don't have much going for them as characters. As read by Nugent, Leon is a whiny prat with a huge chip on his shoulder. In the case of this character, there is much in his backstory that makes him more sympathetic, but we don't get to any of that until much later in the book. The only two characters who seem to have any redeeming qualities are Uncle Hugo and Melissa (although I found Nugent's voicing of her to be absolutely cloying in places--California valley girl meets Irish damsel in distress).

As far as pacing goes, I feel that I must take responsibility for the fact that I was hoping for a more traditional mystery, and I was distracted in the first hour or so of listening because I kept trying to figure out a) why no one had died yet and b) who it was going to be. Well, someone does die, but it is actually a minor plot point by the time we start to understand that this book is an attempt to investigate the darkness of the human soul. There are a LOT of very lengthy trips down memory lane -- between the guys, between the cousins--not all of them necessary, lingering on boyish pranks and other foolish behavior. And LOTS of time sitting around getting drunk and wasted. I did end up appreciating what first seems to be Toby's luck coming to an end, as it was a well-crafted diversion (but not quite a diversion).

If you are looking for a more traditional whodunnit, this is not that. French's writing is descriptive and charged, enough for me to stick with it when I started to tire of everyone whining. Uncle Hugo's freelance work is interesting, and occasionally French peppers in some interesting historical tidbits and the like. A small point, but I was a bit surprised to hear Uncle Hugo quote Virgil as an example of the ancient *Greeks* believing that the witch elm stood at the gates of Hell. Splitting hairs, perhaps, but it was implied that Virgil was Greek.

I tried to evaluate it on its own merits rather than expectations I should not have had of the book. If you are a fan of French's mysteries, just understand that this is a very different creature. If you enjoy slow plots, psychological study, and an occasional plot twist, this might very well be a great book for you!

View all my reviews