Archive | February 2005

Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya

Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And hope without an object cannot live.
–Coleridge

I read this book last week and thought it gave a beautiful, but very sad, picture of life in India for many people. It’s the story of a poor family, a fourth daughter who, because she has no dowry, cannot marry well but must settle for marriage to a landless tenant farmer who brings her home to a mud hut he built himself. Fortunately for the girl, Rukmani, her husband Nathan is “poor in everything but in love and care for me, his wife, whom he took at the age of twelve.”
Rukmani narrates the story in first person, telling of the birth of her daughter, the long wait during which the couple think they will have no more children, and then the birth of her five sons. The village where the family lives is on the edge of poverty and starvation; a bad year with too much rain or too little rain will push Rukmani’s family over the edge. Change and new economic oportunities come to the village; however, these new ideas and possibilities are full of danger too, for peasants who have nothing in reserve and are unable or unwilling to move with the times.
I wrote about a month ago about some of my favorite fantasy worlds. These fantasy worlds were first encountered on the pages of books. Then, there are historical and sociological worlds that I visit mostly in books, too. Finally, there is the actual world. I’ve never been to India or China or South America, but I have a picture of what life in those lands is (or was) like–again, from books. I think that Nectar in a Sieve, first published in 1954, will become a large part of my picture of India, along with missionary stories, the young man I met a few years ago at Baptist World Alliance Youth Conference, and other sources, such as the women I see at the grocery store here in Clear Lake dressed in saris.
Warning: The book has a bittersweet ending, but it’s realistic without being hopeless and depressing. Excellent.
These are some of my favorite books that have given me a picture of the world. Most of them are fiction.
Around the world in books:
South Africa: Cry, the Beloved Country and Too Late the Phalarope both by Alan Paton
India: Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan
China: Imperial Woman by Pearl S.Buck, The Importance of Living by Lin Yutang
Antarctica: Troubling a Star by Madeleine L’Engle
The Netherlands: The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom
England (Yorkshire): All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot
Lebanon: Alice by ? Doerr
Russia: The Endless Steppe by Esther Hautzig (And, of course, Tolstoy and Dostoyevski, although they’re more historical)
Israel: Exodus by Leon Uris
Hawaii: Hawaii by James Michener

For some of these places, all my ideas about the culture come from the book I listed. For others, I am certainly indebted to the book for most of my information. Can you suggest any books that capture the culture and living conditions of a country in either fiction or biography? I do prefer and learn more from stories.

February 28th Birthdays

“I am myself the subject of my blog; it is not reasonable to expect you to waste your leisure on a matter so frivolous and empty.”

Michel de Montaigne, French essayist, b. 1533. Actually, if you substitute the word “book” for “blog,” Montaigne wrote the sentiment quoted above in his Essais. Yet according to the encyclopedia, Montaigne’s essays were quoted by Shakespeare and imitated by Francis Bacon. So reasonable or not, I suppose someone was reading.
It may not be reasonable for you to waste your leisure reading the thoughts of a 47 year old homemaker, but here you are. I pray that I talk about more than just “I, myself.”

More advice for bloggers from Montaigne:
Don’t discuss yourself, for you are bound to lose; if you belittle yourself, you are believed; if you praise yourself, you are disbelieved.
When I am attacked by gloomy thoughts, nothing helps me so much as running to my books. They quickly absorb me and banish the clouds from my mind.
It is good to rub and polish our brain against that of others.
He who has not a good memory should never take upon himself the trade of lying.

February 27th Birthdays

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, American poet, b. 1807. He wrote The Song of Hiawatha, Paul Revere’s Ride, The Wreck of the Hesperus, and Evangeline. I still remember reading Evangeline in the ninth grade. I thought it was terribly romantic.
John Steinbeck, American author of depressing novels, b. 1902. I also remember reading Cannery Row sometime when I was in high school. It is not a pleasant memory. I prefer Longfellow to Steinbeck any day, and if that preference makes me a Philistine sobeit.

February 26th Birthdays

Victor Hugo, French author, b. 1802. I posted last year on Victor Hugo, one of the finest authors ever. How he could live a life full of illicit sexual affairs and confused politics (he kept changing sides, not difficult to do in France in the 1800’s) and still produce a book like Les Miserables, I do not know. God uses flawed vessels to produce great and true art.
It is my considered opinion that everyone should read Les Miserables at least once. If such a project is not possible, at least watch the musical version, Les Miz.
William Frederic Cody, American frontiersman and showman, b. 1846. Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show was a huge spectacle and a success in the U.S. and in Europe.

February 25th Birthdays

Pierre Auguste Renoir, Impressionist painter, b. 1841.

Cynthia Voigt, Newbery Award winning children’s author, b.1942. Author of Homecoming, Dicey’s Song, The Runner, and Seventeen Against the Dealer (among others). Voigt’s characters are so vivid and enjoyable to get to know. Dicey is an independent young lady, a little bit prickly, but fiercely committed to her two younger brothers and her younger sister. James, one of the brothers, is a genius, has great ideas, but he’s not always tuned in to what’s going on in the real world. Maybeth is just the opposite; she has a lot of difficulty learning, but she’s quite artistic and emotionally intelligent. Sammy, the youngest Tillerman, is all boy, somewhat belligerent, but good at heart. These four children come to live with their grandmother, an eccentric character in her own right. And they make friends with other people who have their own quirks and attitudes. These are great books.

February 24th Birthdays

Wilhelm Carl Grimm, b. 1786. While he and his brother Jacob were in law school, they began to collect folk tales. They collected, after many years, over 200 folk tales, including such famous ones as Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel, The Bremen Town Musicians, and Rumpelstiltskin. Both Wilhelm and Jacob were librarians.

True story: I once worked in the reference section of a library in West Texas. We often answered reference questions over the phone. One day a caller asked me, “How do you spell Hansel?” “H-A-N-S-E-L,” I replied. The patron thanked me and hung up. About an hour later, I heard one of the other reference librarians spelling into the phone, “G-R-E-T-E-L.”)

Samuel Lover, Irish humorist, songwriter, and author, b. 1797. I remember this song of his from elementary school choir:

I’m lonesome since I crossed the hill,
And o’er the moor and valley,
Such heavy thoughts my heart do fill,
Since parting with my Sally.
I’ll seek no more the fine and gay,
For each but does remind me,
How swift the hours did pass away,
With the Girl I left behind me.

Steven Jobs, cofounder of Apple Computer Company, b. 1955. For Computer Guru Son.

February 23rd Birthdays: Samuel Pepys

Samuel Pepys, public servant and diarist, b. 1633. Had he been born in the twentieth century, Pepys might have been a blogger. Then again, maybe not. He kept his famous diary from January 1, 1660 until May 1669 when he was forced to give up his journal because of fears that he was losing his eyesight. He wrote in a code or shorthand, so the very public nature of blogging might not have interested him. Pepys witnessed the coronation of Charles II (1661), the Plague of 1665, and The Great Fire of London (1666). He also mentioned famous people of the time such as Sir Isaac Newton, Sir Christopher Wren, and John Dryden, the playwright and poet.

If you would like to read Pepys Diary, one entry per day, on the internet, it has been made into a blog:

This site is a presentation of the diaries of Samuel Pepys, the renowned 17th century diarist who lived in London, England. A new entry written by Pepys will be published each day; 1 January 1660 was published on 1 January 2003. This site is run by Phil Gyford (who is far from an expert on Pepys) and questions and comments are more than welcome at phil-pepys@gyford.com.

What is Life Support?

I just heard on the radio that Terri Schiavo has been granted a “stay of execution” until tomorrow at 5:00 P.M. Unfortunately, the newscaster also said, “Terri’s parents have fought a long legal battle to keep their daughter on life support.”

Life support is a term for a set of therapies to preserve a patient’s life when essential bodily systems are not working well enough to be relied upon. Life support therapies utilize some combination of several techniques: enteric feeding, intravenous drips, total parenteral nutrition, mechanical respiration, heart/lung bypass, defibrillation, urinary catheterization and dialysis. The same techniques are also used for intensive care, though life support is concerned with stabilizing a patient rather than healing them.

Technically, Terri’s feeding tube is life support, but the term conjures pictures of a patient in a coma with a breathing machine being fed and hydrated intravenously. Terri Schiavo is not on life support by my definition; she simply requires a feeding tube to be fed several times a day. Does the MSM call dialysis “life support”? How about catheterization? No, then why does a reporter call what is being done for Terri “life support”?
And why do some people, including her own husband, want to starve her to death?

Careless

It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy–they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

I’ve finished re-reading The Great Gatsby for my American Literature discussion group, and my first thought is that some people lead very sad and empty lives. Hunter S. Thompson, inventor of “gonzo journalism,” shot himself on Sunday. Somehow, even though I don’t know too much about Thompson, this apparent suicide seems to fit in with Gatsby and Tom and Nick and Daisy and the lives of, not quiet, but rather loud desperation they all led.
Unfortunately, I see a lot of carelessness in our society. People carelessly have abortions or get divorces or hop from relationship to relationship leaving mayhem and confusion behind them. They carelessly retreat into drugs or alcohol or they commit suicide, leaving others to mop up their mess.
Of course, some people, like Gatsby, care tremendously. But they care about the wrong things. Gatsby thought he could find meaning in Daisy, but the green light at the end of her dock that became an object of worship for him was really a mirage. Daisy herself was a siren, not a goddess, and she had nothing to give except disilusionment and death.
The kicker is that we’re all desperate: we’re either desperately lost in sin and idolatry and ultimately despair, or we’re desperately dependent upon the Only One who can save us and mop up our messes and redeem our carelessness. And where our desperation finds an end matters not only to each of us but also to those whom our lives touch.

February 22nd: Leetla Giorgio Washeenton

My mom used to read/quote this poem to us every February 22nd. I know it’s tomorrow, but I thought some of you might want to read it today on President’s Day. You have to do your best Eyetalian accent for the full effect.

Leetla Giorgio Washeenton
By Thomas Augustine Daly

You know w’at for ees school keep out
Dees holiday, my son?
Wal, den, I gona tal you ’bout
Dees Giorgio Washeenton.

Wal, Giorgio was leetla keed
Ees leeve long time ago,
An’ he gon’ school for learn to read
An’ write hees nam’, you know.
He moocha like for gona school
An’ learna hard all day,
Baycause he no gat time for fool
Weeth bada keeds an’ play.
Wal, wan cold day w’en Giorgio
Ees steell so vera small,
He start from home, but he ees no
Show up een school at all!
Oh, my! hees Pop ees gatta mad
An’ so he tal hees wife:
“Som’ leetla boy ees gon’ feel bad
Today, you bat my life!”
An’ den he grab a bigga steeck
An’ gon’ out een da snow
An’ lookin’ all aroun’ for seek
Da leetla Giorgio.
Ha! w’at you theenk? Firs’ theeng he see
Where leetla boy he stan’,
All tangla up een cherry tree,
Weeth hatchet een hees han’.
“Ha! w’at you do?” hees Pop he say,
“W’at for you busta rule
An’ stay away like dees for play
Eenstead for gon’ to school?”
Da boy ees say: “I no can lie,
An’ so I speaka true.
I stay away from school for try
An’ gat som’ wood for you.
I theenka deesa cherry tree
Ees goodda size for chop,
An’ so I cut heem down, you see,
For justa help my Pop.”
Hees Pop he no can gatta mad,
But looka please’ an’ say:
“My leetla boy, I am so glad
You taka holiday.”

Ees good for leetla boy, you see,
For be so bright an’ try
For help hees Pop; so den he be.
A granda man bimeby.
So now you gotta holiday
An’ eet ees good, you know,
For you gon’ do da sama way
Like leetla Giorgio.
Don’t play so mooch, but justa stop,
Eef you want be som’ good,
An’ try for help your poor old Pop
By carry home som’ wood;
An’ mebbe so like Giorgio
You grow for be so great
You gona be da Presidant
Of dese Unita State’!