2026 #8 Raising Hare (Dalton)

 

Raising Hare: A Memoir by Chloe Dalton
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

We can start with the fact that I've never really given a lot of thought to rabbits and hares being distinct animals, although it registered somewhere in the back-burner of my brain. I think I'm probably not alone. Dalton's memoir sets out to change that, at least in passing. When she encounters an abandoned leveret (baby hare), her life is forever changed (and that isn't hyperbole). Yes, it is a story of one woman and and at least at first, one hare. But it is also a very thoughtful meditation on the fragile ecosystem and how humans must struggle to maintain some sort of precarious equilibrium, as the balance was long ago upset. Dalton is transparent about her struggles and her questions (of herself, of the relatively isolated world of hare-related knowledge, of her little furry friend(?)). It is this questioning that keeps things from falling into the trap of an overly saccharine and anthropomorphized tale. She reels us in with her narrative in such a way that we find ourselves holding our breath as she writes of circling hawks and various other garden predators, any of whom would like a lunch of leveret. She introduces us to previous chronicles offered by hunters, poachers, and poets alike, who offer musings and (mis)characterizations of these enigmatic animals. Dalton seems conscious of adding her voice to the small trove of information so that sometime in the future, another leveret-encounterer might turn to her memoir for assistance.

The hare is never named and this is ultimately an act of respect, but, also, one suspects, an act of self-preservation. While Dalton works hard not to domesticate the animal, there is something else -- some undefined opportunity to commune (sort of) with another species. I picked this up in the airport because I had heard about it and I wanted something short enough to finish over the course of two shorter flights. I might not have gotten around to it otherwise, so I'll thank not only the airport bookstore, but also Denise Nestor's gorgeous illustration on the front cover (and those that are included inside the book as well). It is truly a delightful and tender read.

View all my reviews

2025 #55 Elsewhere (Russo)

 

Elsewhere: A Memoir by Richard Russo
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I picked this up randomly as someone had offloaded a bunch of Russo's works in a Little Free Library, and I read and enjoyed Empire Falls. While I'm not usually into memoirs, this is really a beautifully written remembrance of his mother. What makes it beautiful is its honesty. Russo steps back enough in the narrative that it almost reads like fiction--we watch love mixed with guilt and manipulation, with a complexity that I think most people will recognize. Russo also addresses ideas of "home" and how easily they can shift and change, but also how love-hate relationships form with places. It is also an unflinching look at the realities of mental illness in a relatable way, revealing how easy it is to enable and excuse with the best of intentions.

View all my reviews

2025 #2: Bird by Bird (Lamott)

 

Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've read many books about writing. I honestly cannot remember how or why this audiobook wound up on my list, but I'm so glad it did. While much of Lamott's advice is geared toward writers of fiction, the book is invaluable for anyone who writes (or frankly, reads). And if you want to get caught up in the eccentricities of broccoli as metaphor, that's fine, but...please, allow yourself to enjoy the comedy. Some of it is fairly irreverent and may not land 100% in 2025 social mores, but most of it is a lot less offensive than a lot of what comes flying out of the mouths of stand-up comedians. If you've understood life's absurdity through grieving someone close, you'll get it. Lamott's reading is perfect--think Lily Tomlin's character "Frankie" without the woo-woo stuff. And in between the quips and the sometimes a-bit-too-long tongue-in-cheek tirades, lo and behold--there are some sound lessons about "...being militantly on your own side," and how you don't want to "look at your feet to see if you're doing it right--just dance!". Lamott learned through trial and much error perhaps the biggest lesson of all: "being enough was going to have to be an inside job." Mic drop.

Proponents of mindfulness will value Lamott's observations such as: "You get your intuition back when you make space for it and stop the chatter of the rational mind." That seems key to a lot of art and creativity, not just writing. Truly, one of my favorite read-by-the-author audiobooks (sharing company with Anthony Bourdain reading Kitchen Confidential and Stanley Tucci's reading of Taste), and Lamott keeps you laughing while you nod your head in affirmation of the book's wisdom. If you find yourself in a slump (of any kind), give it a listen. Lamott's tell-it-like-it-is isn't doom-and-gloom, but instead very life-affirming. I've got a post-it note on my monitor now that reminds me: "bird by bird!"

View all my reviews

Follow The Leader Challenge 2025 1A ---> Discarded Image by C.S. Lewis

2023 #35: These Precious Days (Patchett)

 

These Precious Days: Essays by Ann Patchett
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

"People want you to want what they want. If you want the same things they want, their want is validated. If you don't want the same things, your lack of wanting can, to certain people, come across as judgement." (143).

This is just one of many tremendous insights (this one from "There Are No Children Here") tucked into this marvelous series of essays. Patchett writes with honesty that is neither brutal nor saccharine in its emotion. From "Three Fathers", where Patchett narrates navigating paternal relationships with her mother's three husbands, to "Flight Plan", where she articulates so beautifully the relationship between fear, love, and anger, these essays are as intimate as they are universal in the way they express multifaceted humanity. Patchett makes us want to look more deeply at our own lives, whether it is the mundane stuff we decided to keep or toss ("My Year of No Shopping", "The Nightstand"), or the relationships that just happen, redirecting our lives in ways we don't anticipate. It is this last area where Patchett's writing shines the most. The title essay, "These Precious Days" is the longest essay and tells the story of Patchett's friend Sooki, whom she first met as Tom Hanks's assistant. Much as she often does in her fiction, it is the conversations and the small moments that draw us in, rather than the rhetorical denouements and anticipated endings so common in narratives. The essays are best read in order, capturing what at first glance seems a whimsical curation of musings and soon reveals itself to be a carefully crafted meditation on exactly these (or this) precious days. Fans of Patchett's fiction will find several of these essays particularly enriching, both in providing some back story (particularly about The Dutch House) and illuminating the author's process, devotion to her craft, and relationship with life itself.

View all my reviews

2023 #32: How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures (Imbler)

 

How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures by Sabrina Imbler
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is a remarkable book that manages to combine "memoir with marine biology" as the podcast Science Friday put it (which was the impetus for me to put the book on my reading list). What keeps it from a full five stars for me is the whiplash between the two, but I'll address that in a bit.

The words after the colon in the title are important here: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures. Imbler is a very gifted writer who sets upon the task of creating substantial and meaningful metaphor through ten creatures: the goldfish, the octopus, the sturgeon, the sperm whale, the yeti crab, the sand striker, the butterflyfish, the salp, the cuttlefish, and the immortal jellyfish. Imbler hones in on the characteristics and circumstances of each of these creatures and connects to those as a queer and mixed-race person. Ira Flatow's interview didn't quite prepare me for the level of intimacy that Imbler brings to this book, but I am better for it. The metaphors are not forced, but seem to blossom forth: "They are one of the best-studied jellyfish in the world, and yet no one noticed the moon jelly's power of regeneration until someone gave it time and trust that it might grow into itself." Often, it is the passages focused on the sea creatures where Imbler offers their most potent observations. There are passages that brought me to tears: "But life always finds a place to begin anew, and communities in need will always find one another and invent new ways to glitter, together, in the dark"--some of them hopeful, some of them recognizing the darkness in the depths of identity.

And this is very much a book about identity and taxonomy--biological and social. There are moments where just as you are caught up in either the science or the memoir, however, the prose switches abruptly. This seems like a stylistic choice on Imbler's part, but it didn't work for me, as I felt yanked out of things just as I was connecting to the intimacy of their narratives. I worry that the title and marketing (the Science Friday interview downplays the memoir side) might mean potential readers may miss out if deep sea creatures aren't a ready-made point of interest. Imbler's personal experiences no doubt mirror that of many queer youths, swimming in the murky waters of identity. I hope they know this book is for them, because Imbler's words reach up from the bottom like a kelp forest toward the light, and everyone is better for it. Perhaps if we could all embrace a little bit more of ourselves in the creatures we know and don't yet know, existence might be a bit less fraught.

View all my reviews

2023 #22: Deep South (Theroux)

Deep South: Four Seasons on Back Roads by Paul Theroux
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Part travelogue, part memoir, part commentary on poverty, Paul Theroux's Deep South: Four Seasons on Back Roads attempts to follow in the footsteps of James Agee and Walker Evans (see Let Us Now Praise Famous Men), but the lack of a cohesion makes this a bit more stream-of-consciousness (my real rating is 3.5 stars). Theroux seems to tease out important elements in fits and starts and then gets a bit lost in the landscape or musings about its people--all of which are important, but get a bit flattened by the lack of overarching game plan. Gun shows seem to be a major epicenter, and indeed some of those vignettes are some of the most revealing. Where the book is differentiated is in its ability to (for the most part) keep a voice that is in an in-between space, flanked by disinterest on one side and passion on the other...some might call it a style. But his allegiances are enigmatic, and that can be frustrating, particularly when there is so much at stake. He has been criticized for racializing poverty, and the lack of obvious through-line does not help (the line is there, but there's little about the presentation to highlight it). Sometimes Theroux allows ample space for various voices of the Deep South, but then seems to stand in front of the camera without warning, and very often the impact is one of condescension. Where I most appreciated Theroux's interjections was when he wrote about Southern writers: Faulkner, Portis, O'Connor, etc. (see his "Interlude: The Fantastications of Southern Fiction). Here Theroux seemed to be on more solid ground in terms of firsthand experience with literature.
When Theroux does move out of the way, or fosters a real dialogue (as with the farmers in Arkansas), the book has riches to offer. Dignity does seem to be something which Theroux wishes to amplify and in this, Deep South is successful.

But perhaps it is reading with post-2020 eyes that makes his ambivalence seem inadequate for a travel memoir of this area. There are moments where his opinion is clear -- Clinton's seeming abandonment of poor people in Arkansas, for example--but the meandering (and as one critic said, languid) book dilutes the moments of potential power. Yet, in its 441 pages are voices that are important and have stories and lives to share--some of which are heartbreaking, and some of which are angering. The earnest bigotry of some of those voices is frightening, but not in a sensationalized way. Instead, readers should understand that the "us vs. them" mindset is of limited value because "those" minds are just as set as "ours." The back roads of the Deep South contain multitudes, and what seems like occasional disinterest on the part of Theroux, might be a reminder that those back roads should be more front-and-center.



View all my reviews

2023 #12: Kitchen Confidential (Bourdain)

 

Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by Anthony Bourdain
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

cw: suicide

I wasn't prepared for the emotional journey I would take in listening to Anthony Bourdain read this book, originally published in 2000. Published at a time that didn't know Covid. Published at a time when sensibilities were altogether different. Published at a time, of course, when Anthony Bourdain was alive.

Of course what was raw and real and shocking in 2000 is still so today--perhaps more so. But it takes on new meaning to hear Bourdain's bravado in joking about suicide, his unabashed love for the rough and tumble culinary world, and his blasé attitude toward airborne illnesses, the like of which he never lived to see.

While certainly one could criticize Bourdain's own seeming acceptance of the sexism and toxicity that he says is innate to the "culinary underbelly", the fact remains there is a reality to this narrative. Listening to Bourdain read it we get less of a sense of the shock jock, and more of a "listen, here's how I lived it and how I know it and how I want to tell it". If we say we honor storytelling, I think we need to make room for a voice like this.

The guy is acerbic, occasionally charming, and at times, hilarious. He will make you rethink the days you order fish at a restaurant. He made a lot of enemies, no doubt. But one has to think there were many folks in the industry that felt very, very seen -- for better or for worse. One thing stays the same throughout, however--running underneath the heroin use, the outlandish sexcapades, the vocabulary that makes every sensible deceased grandma turn in their graves on endless repeat--there is a deep and abiding passion for food, and the "life." Bourdain was "all-in" and to what ultimate cost we won't ever really know as those stories died with him in 2018. It is worthwhile to listen to him tell you the story in his voice. Take a deep breath, lay your judgments aside--at least for the moment--and listen to the tale of a life...lived. 2018 Anthony Bourdain was probably not 2000 Anthony Bourdain, but that's the case for most of us. Kitchen Confidential is an amazing snapshot of a life that is tragically gone...one that went to "parts unknown" with "no reservations" without apology.

View all my reviews

CROSS-POSTED at Lady of Shallots

2022 #3: Taste: My Life Through Food (Tucci)

 Cross-posted at the Lady of Shallots

Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Tucci
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I didn't know a thing about Stanley Tucci beyond "he's an actor" when my best friend recommended this book to me. Since I had a few free Audible credits, I decided to make this my first audiobook experience as well. I'm not sure it was the best choice on that front, as having recipes "read" to me is not that fulfilling (and if I'm listening to an audiobook I'm not going to be in a position to write them down). On the other hand, hearing Stanley Tucci recount his own memoir was wonderful and entrenched me in a deep nostalgia for my own Italian-American roots. Having spent considerable time in Italy, Tucci's pronunciation is more European than the particular East Coast American Italian er...dialect...that I learned from my father, but he nods to it on more than one occasion. Given his wry humor, hearing him say "fagioli" correctly (as opposed to "fazool") seemed a bit incongruous. The only truly annoying aspect of the audiobook, however, was the dialogue, which Tucci reads like a script, announcing the speaker ("Mom", "Me", "Felicity") before every single utterance. I did not feel this was necessary and Tucci is a good enough actor to have made a distinction between the "characters" (without resorting to farcical vocal characterizations as we also sometimes hear in audiobooks). But enough about My First Audiobook. I will be buying the print version for the recipes.

Again, knowing nothing about Tucci or his life, I wasn't quite prepared for the last segment of the memoir. As the publisher's blurb says nothing of it, I won't provide a spoiler here, but suffice it to say, the "journey through good times and bad" is legit, particularly on the "bad" front. Let's just say that under normal circumstances hearing a VERY LONG litany of foods he can eat, which he provides near the end of the book, would be taxing, but I found tears welling up in my eyes. It really is a beautiful celebration of food, family, and life. I am also grateful (I think) for the fact that he helped me recall a food that had been sitting in the deep abyss of my most buried memories: timpano. My mother and father, who divorced when I was eleven, did make one Christmas, a timpano. I had forgotten all about it, but the memories came rushing back, and while my mother did not likely curse about it -- even behind closed doors--I firmly believe she probably wanted to do so. I remember thinking it wasn't possible to put so much food at once into a single dish and then into my digestive system. Tucci says it is like cilantro--you either love it or hate it. I love cilantro. I cannot say the same for my memories of timpano.

The book is full of little treasures of food trivia (that martinis were often made with scotch in lieu of more expensive vermouth was a revelation), but it really is a rather moving and humorous account of life and food. I enjoyed listening to it while I cooked, and it helped renew my energy for what I know to be an act of love, but sometimes has felt more like a chore. With Tucci's words and voice, the simple and sweet truth of food's power to both center and be at the center of our lives is beautifully resonant.

View all my reviews

2021 #13: 10% Happier (Harris)

 

10% Happier: How I Tamed the Voice in My Head, Reduced Stress Without Losing My Edge, and Found Self-Help That Actually Works by Dan Harris
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Truly this is more of a memoir than a self-help book and I was glad of that. Harris is witty, and although his adverse reactions to the "touchy-feely" stuff have become a bit of a schtick for him, his practical application of his own come to... Buddha?...moments, is inspiring for its realness. The book is structured really well as it follows Campbell's Hero's journey more or less, although notably cycling back through departure here and there.

I came to the book AFTER learning about the app, which I have used daily for over a year, on the recommendation of my best friend. I've just recently started engaging with the podcast. Normally I'd be cautious of the enterprise of it all, but I do think Harris has keyed into something really important here. Enlightenment is not the goal, but finding the benefits of--as chapter 10 so elegantly notes-- "not being a dick" is more healthy than you might think. Harris walks us through many of the "typical" meditation experiences: reading/meeting Eckhart Tolle, reading/meeting Deepak Chopra...and chapter 7 takes us along for his first multi-day meditation retreat. For folks who squirm at the mere thought of a meditation retreat--this chapter is for you--and no, not because it might sell you on the idea of going to a retreat (it probably won't).

Harris's casual style and humble honesty about his own struggles is very effective in helping craft something that isn't a typical self-help book, but instead one of those stories to which almost everyone can find a way to connect. Some of the best nuggets are not about meditation, but about life--whether it is getting glued back to his iPhone directly after the retreat ("The habits of a lifetime reassert themselves with astonishing speed...." (150)), or noting the 90% challenges ("The ego, that slippery son of a bitch, would use fatigue as an opportunity to sneak past my weakened defenses." (204)). Harris's own self-consciousness is the real delight and lesson here---the memoir is an exercise in mindfulness, albeit not of the present moment. But if we can learn to seek out clarity of what is happening in the present moment, it bodes well for the future that will inevitably see these presents as pasts.

2019 #9: Born A Crime (Trevor Noah)

Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

My husband read this book earlier this summer and I thought it was going to sadly languish on my TBR pile until in a lovely coincidence, my workplace chose it for a community read. Noah uses humor to create a kind of distance from the sorts of everyday horrors of racism. As a memoir, it is a tribute to his mother and is full of stories that reveal how he had to navigate life growing up in a "post-Apartheid" South Africa, that really wasn't much of post-anything--at least not in terms of the socio-economic ramifications.

He intersperses moments of clarity and severity--you don't forget that your laughter enables you to turn the page. The narrative arc is more of a narrative wave, with the denouement more of an explosion at the end. It is a book about code-switching. It is a book about history and culture. And ultimately, I think it is a book about love. And hate.

50BC2011 #10:Mission Street Food

Mission Street Food: Recipes and Ideas from an Improbable Restaurant by Karen Leibowitz

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


“Cookbook” doesn’t begin to touch this amazingly honest, engaging, inspiring, and creative narrative about two people, their friends, their perseverance, their sheer luck, and the joy to be had in both dreams and realities.

From flatbreads on a food truck to a full-fledged restaurant, Mission Street Food is a tale told in the words of its two heroes, chef Anthony Myint and his wife, Karen Leibowitz. It is the story of a “start-up” like no other, set on the streets (mainly one street) of San Francisco, transforming a “mom-and-pop” Guatemalan snack cart into a thriving and charitable food experience. The authors aren’t shy about sharing the many bumps in the road, but both Myint and Leibowitz write with an enviable sense of humor in the face of each challenge. Leibowitz recalls opening night on the food truck, as a line of people formed down the block:

“It had never occurred to us that we might have more than a few customers at a time, so we had no system for organizing orders. On the fly, I decided to give each person a letter, which was a big mistake. A lot of letters sound the same, so I spent the night yelling things like “Order D! D as in Depeche Mode!” It was like taking a free-association test in front of a hundred people. I had no cash register, of course, so I kept ones and fives in my front pockets, tens and twenties in my back pockets—a regular carnie.”(p.31).

When Myint and Leibowitz found more permanent facilities for MSF at a “decrepit Chinese joint,” they continued to surmount obstacle after obstacle, all the while creating unique and inspired cuisine, at no profit. One gets a sense the venture was one part grassroots endeavor to two parts spontaneity that would rival 1960s “Happenings.” In amidst the entertaining tales of small victories and near-mishaps, Leibowitz tucks in what ultimately makes this book so very appealing:

“When we got home, I felt exhausted to the point of despondency, but I also felt a little bit sentimental. Anthony had become a chef. I had become a restaurant manager/dishwasher. Our friends were pulling for us. We were incompetent. We were successful. Nothing made any sense. I felt really lucky.” (p. 54).

And truly that’s what this book is about. You need not be a “foodie” or even remotely interested in starting a restaurant in order to enjoy this remarkable project. Myint and Leibowitz are testaments to the value of spirit, energy, friendship, and love. Their story is one of turning dreams into living one’s life to the fullest, rather than waiting for “something to happen.” It is hard not to be inspired by Mission Street Food, and you’ll find yourself smiling and laughing along with the authors. Along the way, you’ll also learn how portion your own steaks from a rib roast, how a CO2 charger might provide 30 seconds of pure joy for your dinner guests, and that jalapeños and snickerdoodles can make excellent bedfellows.

Read this book for the fantastic photographs. Read this book for the excellent writing and the entertaining story. Read this book for the comic strip on pages 37-44. Read this book for recipes that will challenge and inspire you. But most of all, read this book because chances are, at some point, you’ll need a reminder of your own aspirations and possibilities.

(Reposted at http://rebiscooking.blogspot.com)

#17: The Tulip and the Pope

50 BOOK CHALLENGE 2008 #17: The Tulip and the Pope: A Nun's Story
AUTHOR: Deborah Larsen
YEAR: (2005, Knopf, hardcover)
GENRE: memoir
PAGES: 256


The Tulip and the Pope: A Nun's Story by Deborah Larsen

rating: 3 of 5 stars
This book had a lot of unexplored potential. To be fair, I think writing a memoir about one's time as a nun (after the fact) must be a very difficult task. Karen Armstrong expresses this in her preface to The Spiral Staircase, her account of leaving her convent and a sequel to her memoir of her experiences as a nun (Through the Narrow Gate). Armstrong says:



Writing Through the Narrow Gate, some twelve years later, was a salutary experience. It made me confront the past, and I learned a great dal. Most important, I realized how precious and formative this period of my life had been, and that despite my problems, I would not have missed it for the world. Then I attempted a sequel: Beginning the World was published in 1983. It is the worst book I have ever written and I am thankful to say that it has long been out of print. (xvii)


Deborah Larsen's account of entering the convent of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary in 1960 is a conflicted memoir--not in her feelings about her time as a nun, but in her choice of narrative voice. She has tried to accomplish in one memoir what Armstrong struggled to do in three. She explains in her author's note: " My remembrance of 1960-1965 never felt like a conventional narrative, thought it had progressions. My sense was more of a string of paper lanterns...lit spottily against the dark along a dock, where some days, even now, waves dash." This explains, but does not ameliorate the odd sense of detachment for the reader.


A lot of value in memoir is hindsight. Larsen's reluctance to allow herself deeper reflection upon the events of the 60s left this reader disappointed. It isn't until Larsen considers leaving the convent that the narrative becomes potentially more interesting. Not only has she been released to re-engage with the world in the memoir, but it seems that Larsen-as-author releases her cloistered style as well and the reader begins to understand the point of the first two-thirds of the book:


If you are capable of pushing, then a you is assumed; you must exist if you can push.

Maybe that was it.

There must be an identity or at least an entity; there must be a you.

Or was it the act of pushing, your choosing, your summoning up courage, created the you? (205)

I'm not sure Larsen's switch in style was conscious, but it makes for a disparate reading experience with the first part of the book.

What Larsen does accomplish however, is a beautiful set of vignettes from both inside and outside the community. She appreciates the nuns' aesthetic sense: "Black became us almost thrillingly, I thought. Clerical, but classy." Moments like this make the reader smile as she recognizes the nineteen year old in the nun.


For some, this memoir will feel remarkably undramatic--Larsen moves from a state of naive obedience to disciplined questioning. However, it is this lack of drama that gives the book a good part of its value. Larsen has demystified the choice to enter a convent, and reveals obedience, chastity, and poverty to be simply another set of options in the lives we choose to lead.

50BC08 #10: Becoming a Musician

Becoming A Musician by George Norwood Humphrey

rating: 3 of 5 stars





I find it hard to criticize posthumously published memoirs for two reasons: 1) the original author has no say over the final manuscript and 2) those who endeavor to publish it might risk misrepresenting the original author's intent (intentionally or not).

If one reads this memoir (as with any memoir) with a grain of salt, you can appreciate Humphrey's anecdotes about some of the most famous figures in orchestral conducting. Having graduated from New England Conservatory in 1929, Humphrey, after much perseverance, obtained a viola position with the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1934 under the baton of Serge Koussevitsky. The book is largely a memoir of his long career with the BSO, which ended in 1977.

Humphrey cannot truly decide, however, how he feels about Koussevitsky, and this is partially what makes the book frustrating, but also one of the more interesting aspects. The reader can tell that he's grappling with his own psychology. Late in the book he acknowledges his own ambivalence, in contrasting Erich Leinsdorf to Koussevitsky:

The very thing I had always wished for now became anathema to me, for with this x-ray treatment [by Leinsdorf], all inspirational possibilities had gone. We found ourselves playing woodenly. (149)

Koussevitsky is not the only victim of Humphrey's ambivalence. He seems to have a love-hate relationship with conductors in general:

[Under Munch] we had to be prepared to do anything that he might demand for this concert, but not wish for the next. This sort of thing can make one almost as nervous as the other well-prepared version under an autocrat. (105)

While I agree, it seems to me that this discredits his implied assertion that a conductor is simply there to keep the beat. I think it would make one especially nervous if one felt that the conductor was no more than a mere metronome. As an ensemble musician myself, while I don't prefer bizarre maneuvers out of left field during a concert, I do appreciate if the work is "new" EVERY time it is played. I believe there is a way to do this without putting orchestral cohesion at risk.

To Humphrey's credit, while his portrayal of Koussevitsky vascillates between "grumpy old man" and the Devil incarnate, he doesn't unreasonably idolize Munch, or any of the other successors. He acknowledges that the affability of Munch, for example, came at the expense of a certain lack of discipline. Moments like this smooth out his bipolar portrayal of Koussevitsky.

Humphrey includes plenty of humor (sometimes unintentionally, as he betrays his own snobberies and assumptions) and clearly communicates what was undoubtedly a love affair with music. Making no assumptions about his married life, I will say that I found the rare mention of his wife Mildred (or children) to be rather unfortunate. While I realize that the focus of the book is his musical career, one does wonder about the reaction of his spouse to his various relocations, touring, and general financial unsteadiness.

While an enjoyable and quick read, this book suffers from terrible editing. The repetitiveness is very bothersome, in that it is so obvious. Entire paragraphs reappear in later chapters, almost word for word. Direct quotes show up twice, losing any kind of impact the second time around (see, for example, Koussevitsky's "Now I feel like a guest conductor" on p. 91 AND p. 106).

Poor editing aside, Humphrey's tale of struggling musician turned successful professional violist is inspiring. In reading the book, one does have the vivid impression of the man sitting down to sincerely recount the major musical highlights of his life. His dedication and hard work would be both informative and motivational for an aspiring musician. He provides an interesting snapshot as well of the role of the orchestra as representational force in American politics.

50BC06 #8: The Piano Shop on the Left Bank

50 Book Challenge #8
The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: Discovering a Forgotten Passion in A Paris Atelier
by Thad Carhart
268 pp

Although classified as a non-fiction memoir, Carhart’s brilliant work reads like a novel in its vivid character descriptions and joyous reverence for music. The author pulls us into his Parisian existence, in the center of which lies Desforges Pianos, a small, but magical atelier which houses passions for history and music. We follow Carhart on a hero’s journey, all the while learning immense amounts about the making and history of pianos.

The key figures in the book are characters but not caricatures. Carhart views his life in Paris as an adventure, and the reader is held in joyful anticipation of the next discovery in chapter after chapter. Rather than the Louvre, the Champs Elysées, and Le Tour Eiffel, Carhart’s Paris is a human community brought together by a love of music.

Full of technical details and historical interludes, Carhart’s memoir is informed, but not burdened by its own knowledge. The author’s writing style is fluid and whimsical, touched with a dry humor that keeps his lofty homage to music at a very urbane level. Even those who have never been to Paris or have no connection with music whatsoever will enjoy this book as it is really a story about the childhood passions we so easily forget at adults.

Posted here 9/12/08, originally posted 4/9/06.

Truth & Beauty (Patchett)

 

Truth & Beauty by Ann Patchett
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This NY Times Bestselling memoir recounts a friendship by detailing its joys, wonders and limits. The author Ann Patchett recalls her friendship with Lucy Grealy who authored the touching memoir Autobiography of a Face, the story of her life struggle against a childhood cancer which led to the loss of part of her jaw, chemo, radiation, and many reconstructive surgeries.

It is, at times, a painful read, but is truly a memoir of truth and beauty which will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

View all my reviews