A while back, in preparation for Mary Karr’s visit to Lemuria, I began to think hard about why so many people are drawn to the memoir. I think we all know why, but I wanted to put it into words. I reflected on a long-past course in women’s memoir, flipped through some of the course reading and was assured by this quote from Kennedy Fraser:

“I felt very lonely then, self-absorbed, shut off. I needed all this murmured chorus, this continuum of true-life stories, to pull me through. They were like mothers and sisters to me, these literary women, many of them already dead; more than my own family, they seemed to stretch out a hand.” (Read more of this blog, The Power of the Narrative, here)

You might have heard that memoirist Jeannette Walls will be at Lemuria on Wednesday. I cannot wait to meet her. I am also selfishly pleased that I have another opportunity to think about Jeannette’s memoirs and all the other ones I love as well. To further indulge in the memoir, Lemuria is also fortunate to be visited by Rodney Crowell (read about his visit and memoir Chinaberry Sidewalks here), Jeannette on Wednesday, Mark Richard’s House of Prayer No. 2 in February (it comes with these instructions: read even if you do not know who Mark Richard is) and Andre Dubus III in March for his new memoir, Townie (already receiving great reviews prior to its February 1st release date).

I finally remembered my coworkers and their favorites:

Nell and Kaycie love the bright and young Sloane Crosley.

Nell says: “It had me doubled over laughing when I read I Was Told There’d Be Cake. Her writing reminded me of Dave Sedaris if Dave Sedaris was a straight female with a penchant for creating awkward situations and then living in them to the fullest. Crosley writes for Playboy sometimes and that witty and sexy humor permeates the entire book.” (Read Kaycie’s blog here.) I suppose you might not consider Sloane a traditional memoirist, but perhaps she writes the mini-memoir in an essay.

Norma, on a deeper note, could not stop talking about Let’s Take the Long Way Home by Pulitzer Prize winning author Gail Caldwell. She writes: “This book begins with Knapp’s death but Caldwell chronologically unfolds the back story of their relationship; telling how Knapp was the perfect friend but even funnier and more interesting than one could have imagined.” (Find the rest of Norma’s write-up here.)

How about it for Dave Eggers and David Sedaris? And we all loved meeting Mary Karr last July. I could mention more, but what is your favorite memoir?

The signing with Jeannette Walls starts at 5:00 on Wednesday with a reading to follow at 5:30. Bring a friend!

There’s a particular criticism of devoted readers that I hear occasionally — a challenge to just stop reading about things and to go out and actually do them instead. I’ve often wondered if those who make this challenge have ever read a really, really good book. I wonder this because my experience has been that very few things spark my interest in a particular subject as much as a great book. The reader isn’t sidestepping actually experiencing real life — he or she is being introduced to parts of life that are normally inaccessible. It’s the beginning of the experience, not the totality of it. Surely I am not the only one who recalls, as a child, finding that one great book that sparked one’s interest, and then the continued search for more books and more information and more access to the subject.

There’s a reason this is on my mind — I am reading Frank Brady’s new book, Endgame, about Bobby Fischer. I loved playing chess as a child — I remember learning the game sometime in the 3rd or 4th grade, and playing frequently at school and with friends. I remember reading a few “Chess for Beginners”-type books. I was never a particularly strong player (my chess zenith was beating a teacher who had once won a match against the Junior Champion of Britain whilst said champion was watching TV and eating a sandwich), but I enjoyed it. And then, I stopped playing. Not intentionally. Other parts of my life just crowded it out.

Endgame has forced me to question why I dropped chess. It’s really the story of a troubled genius, not a book about chess, but it brought chess back into my mind, and made me remember why I enjoyed it. I’ve caught myself thinking through old chess questions or problems I had, Googling for more information, and looking for chess apps for my phone. Not because I plan to make chess a central part of my life — but because a book made it interesting to me again.

I said that Endgame is not really about chess, and I think that’s true — chess is the background, not the story itself. As I’ve read it, I’ve been struck by the parallels to The Fall of the House of Zeus. I don’t know that Dickie Scruggs counts as a “genius” in quite the same way that Bobby Fischer did, but there’s no question that he saw angles nobody else did and accomplished things nobody else could. And both Bobby and Dickie, heady with their own success, ignored the cautionary voices around them and indulged their own fantasies of invincibility. And both fell hard, in their respective arenas.

I know I’ve rambled a bit here, but sometimes I feel like that’s the appropriate response to a book — to ramble from thought to thought, to ruminate and consider. Some books throw everything into sharp contrast, and demand an immediate response, but other books are quieter. They may not change your life, but they can still add something to it.

All of the above can be found in Joanne Harris’s novel Five Quarters of the Orange. You may not recognize the name Joanne Harris, but you know her work.  She wrote the novel that the sweet little movie Chocolat (starring Juliette Binoche and Johnny Depp) is based on. I don’t know about you, but I adore that movie (especially the Johnny Depp moments), so when Ellen recommended Five Quarters of the Orange to me, it was just extra incentive to read something by Joanne Harris.

Five Quarters of the Orange is set in German-occupied France, specifically in a small village called Les Laveuses near the city of Angers in the Loire valley. Harris’s narrator and main character Framboise narrates the story of both her present life (she’s now 50 and just moving back to Les Laveuses) and the tragic event that occurred in her village during WWII when she was only 9 years old.  I don’t want to give away the story, but I will say that part of what makes this novel so wonderful is Harris’s ability to blend this tragic tale of war, German occupation, and a mother’s mental illness with beautiful (and kind of sensual) descriptions of the French countryside, farm life, and mouthwatering French recipes.

Here’s an example of a particularly wonderful recipe for cherry liqueur.  It’s given near the beginning of the novel, and it stuck with me all the way through.  I also started craving some cherry liqueur…

The secret is to leave the stones in. Layer cherries and sugar one on the other in a widemouthed glass jar, covering each layer gradually with clear spirit (kirsch is best, but you can use vodka or even Armagnac) up to half the jar’s capacity. Top up with spirit and wait. Every month, turn the jar carefully to release any accumulated sugar. In three years’ time the spirit has bled the cherries white, itself stained deep red now, penetrating even to the stone and the tiny almond inside it, becoming pungent, evocative, a scent of autumn past. Serve in tiny liqueur glasses, with a spoon to scoop out the cherry, and leave it in the mouth until the macerated fruit dissolves under the tongue. Pierce the stone with the point of a tooth to release the liqueur trapped inside and leave it for a long time in the mouth, playing it with the tip of the tongue, rolling it under, over, like a single prayer bead. Try to the remember the time of its ripening, that summer, that hot autumn, the time the well ran dry, the time we had the wasps’ nests, time past, lost, found again in the hard place at the heart of the fruit…

(pg. 9)

See what I mean when I say that the writing is a bit sensual? The recipes, for the most part, come from the diary that Framboise’s mother kept as she was going mad.  Seemingly meaningless notes are scribbled between lines of recipes which Framboise works to decode.

As for the dark secret bit, you’re just going to have to read the book to find out about that…because I’m not telling.

P.S. For those of you who read my last blog about my New Year’s resolution to read fifty books this year, I’m actually ahead of myself.  It’s only January 22, and I’ve already read six books.  So far, so good!  -Kaycie

StrengthsFinder 2.0 by Tom Rath (Gallup, 2007)

A few years ago for his birthday, my dad decided that, instead of giving him presents, he wanted us all to read the book Now, Discover Your Strengths and take the accompanying online assessment. He had just finished the book and was obviously excited. Marcus Buckingham and Donald Clifton explain the ideas behind the “strength revolution.”

Instead of this book, I ended up reading Tom Rath’s StrengthsFinder 2.0, a shorter continued text explaining the different strengths identified when the reader takes the online assessment. Rath explains the necessity to rethink how we view ourselves:

“At its fundamentally flawed core, the aim of almost any learning program is to help us become who we are not.”

For example, even if students don’t excel in certain areas of study, they are still required to pursue it with the same vigor as for their strengths. While learning from mistakes is a valuable process, too much time focused here can be stifling.

Rath continues, “In every culture we have studied, the overwhelming majority of parents think that a student’s lowest grades deserve the most time and attention. Parents and teachers reward excellence with apathy instead of investing more time in the areas where a child has the most potential for greatness.”

I took the quiz and read the whole book the day I got it. With the assessment, you get your top five strengths, each coming with plans of action. It’s a useful tool in helping you identify a few major skills to pursue instead of halfway chasing things that aren’t bolstered by your strengths.

I found out that my weird habits don’t have to be a detriment. For example, one of my “strengths” is Input.

“You are inquisitive. You collect things […] Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting […] If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you really don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away […] Its interesting. It keeps your mind fresh.”

What a more dynamic way to look at a group of habits than to simply conclude them a disadvantage (like, “You have too much stuff!”)

Readers of this book will find new ways to consider their personalities and daily habits. By identifying and pursuing areas of strength, a person can ultimately lead a more fulfilled lifestyle. -Peyton

Due to the fact that I am in charge of the craft section I have acquired a very respectable craft book collection. I wrote a blog not long ago about the craft book that has started this very welcome epidemic in my life. Well the new book of my obsession is called Knitting Mochimochi by Anna Hrachovec. This book teaches you how to knit amigurumi. And if you don’t know what that is, let me provide you with a definition:

Amigurumi (編みぐるみ, lit. knitted stuffed toy) is the Japanese art of knitting or crocheting small stuffed animals and anthropomorphic creatures. The word is derived from a combination of the Japanese words ami, meaning crocheted or knitted, and nuigurumi, meaning stuffed doll. Amigurumi are typically animals, but can include artistic renderings or inanimate objects endowed with anthropomorphic features.

So seriously these little knitted animals are the cutest things ever. I just finished my first toy the other night and I was over the moon about how cute the little guy was. In the book he is called a “Bite-free Bedbug”, and yes he has a little sleeping cap with embroidered stars on it.

For years I have been a knitter of just straight scarves, but upon seeing this book I knew I was ready to up the ante and teach myself how to knit on three needles. So one night I sat down on my couch surrounded by my dogs, who were very eager to take off with my ball of yarn, and taught myself how to knit in the round. It took about two hours to get it right, but watching how-to videos on knittinghelp.com really helped me. So now I feel like a total knitting all-star.

These little creatures would be amazing gifts for anyone who likes to come dangerously close to overdosing on cuteness. Nothing is more special than something that you make with your own hands with someone particular in mind. -Ellen