Read It

Title: The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2005
Editor: Dave Eggers
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Company
Publication Year: 2005
Rating: A-

A book edited by McSweeney’s editor and author Dave Eggers, with an introduction by Beck, almost guarantees a good time. The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2005 is an anthology of short stories and nonfiction ranging from hilarious to serious to, quite frankly, mundane topics. It is well compiled and covers an excellent range, from discussions of the Iraq war to discussions on the “ladystache.”

Some of the most notable selections are as follows:

A Lynching in Stereoscope from African-American Review
By Stephanie Dickenson

Disturbing and powerful, Stephanie Dickenson tells parallel stories – one of a lynching in years past and the other of a woman hired to take care of two elderly siblings in contemporary America. Both stories include characters wrongly accused, though consequences are different for both. Descriptions used by Dickenson when telling the story of a young man burned and hanged for allegedly molesting a young girl, along with the heartbreak of the boy’s mother as she bears witness to the atrocities, stay with the reader hours, days even, after the story is finished. But the true beauty of this story is how Dickenson’s stories converge in the end, telling an even broader story about our culture then and now.

Heavy Metal Mercenary from Rolling Stone
By Tish Durkin

A story about “corporate soldiers” in Iraq, this eye-opening article is an essential part of the overall Best American anthology. Tish Durkin travels with a group of private military contractors through Baghdad and beyond, learning about their daily lives. Throughout the article, Durkin explains the dangers the “soldiers” face. She explains who they are and why they’re there. The most distressing aspect of the article, and one of many involved in the Iraq occupation, is that these paramilitary purchase their arms on the black market. According to Heavy Metal Mercenary, because it is illegal for non-military to own certain armaments, like rocket launchers, many times they purchase these from the black market, “providing cash to the same arms dealers who supply the Iraqi insurgents who are killing American soldiers…” The irony is that our military sometimes must hire private security because coalition soldiers are inexperienced at protecting convoys. Behind the scenes, our military is helping to fund the same people who are killing them.

Catalogue Sales from New England Review
By Molly McNett

This hilarious short story tells of two sisters who must not only struggle with their parents’ divorce, but also the Filipino mail-order bride their father recently “purchased.” McNett does an incredible job of tapping into the insecurities of young women and the tensions between sisters. There are layers to this story, making it relatable and complex.

These are only a few favorites. The anthology is full of many more great reads, touching on cultural differences and personal idiosyncrasies alike. A must-read for 2006.

I’m Glad You Conquered Your Phobia but I Don’t Need to Hear about It

Title: The God of Driving: How I Overcame Fear and Put Myself in the Driver’s Seat with the Help of a Good and Mysterious Man
Author: Amy Fine Collins
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication Year: 2004
Rating: C-

After 24 years of never learning to drive, I finally overcame my fear of driving (although outwardly I denied that’s what it was) a few years ago. I had a patient and wonderful teacher and am now on the verge of purchasing my first car. It was my own experience with the fear of driving that piqued my interest in Amy Fine Collins’ The God of Driving. I’ve always enjoyed her articles in Vanity Fair, so I thought I’d give her memoir a shot. Turned out to not be such a good idea after all, outside of the fact that I finally get to write a review about a book I don’t like. Switch things up a bit.

The God of Driving is the story of how Collins overcame her fear of driving through the assistance of a Turkish driving instructor. Over the course of her driving lessons, a friendship and infatuation developed between the two. Collins became fascinated with this man, Attila, and his dramatic history. He has lived everywhere and experienced everything. He speaks several different languages, is well-traveled, and has worked a variety of jobs at varying levels of success. For some unexplainable reason, Attila is able to help his driving students overcome their fears – not only of driving but in other aspects of their lives as well. He has a 98 percent success rate when it comes to his students passing their driving tests.

This is all fine and dandy, and granted there might be a story here somewhere, but after finishing this book I got the feeling that there is no way any Joe Schmoe off the street could present this story to an editor and have them bite. The only reason this story was published was because Collins wrote it. It is presented so poorly that I found myself frustrated the entire way through. Attila comes across as arrogant and self righteous rather than this gentle, intriguing creature that Collins intended. Collins herself appeared to be the puppy dog lapping up anything Attila said or did, constantly flopping against his heels.

Collins’ normally sharp wit and attention to detail fell short as well. It’s essential to include details of fashion and appearance in a book to set the stage for the reader. But it became beyond annoying when the only two designers this fashion/society writer mentioned in the entire novel were Geoffrey Beene and Manolo Blahnik. Give me a fucking break! I know Beene’s your close friend, but you have been writing about fashion for years. He couldn’t have designed your entire wardrobe. And you must have more shoes in your collection than Blahnik’s, honey.

But this is a relatively small point compared to the larger one: This book is one big “gush” with some facts sprinkled in about ridiculously expensive cars. I should have known what to expect by just reading the subhead. How I Overcame Fear and Put Myself in the Driver’s Seat with the Help of a Good and Mysterious Man. Again, give me a fucking break. I do believe Collins could have told an incredible story here. Attila does have an intriguing history and a way with people. But due to Collins’ exaggerations of his attributes she completely misses the mark.

An African Childhood

Title: Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight
Author: Alexandra Fuller
Publisher: Random House
Publication Year: 2001
Rating: A

Alexandra Fuller has shared a world full of life, color and racial tensions. Her memoir follows her childhood in Africa, where she must deal with the tragedies of her family and the danger of political and social backlashes from unsettled African nations.

Fuller pulls readers into her world by exploring the sights and sounds, glorious and horrifying, of all things African. Her descriptions are so powerful that you can almost feel the sweat pouring of her or feel the heat permeating from the horse beneath her. The clouds of mosquitoes and bugs are so dense you begin to itch just imagining them.

One of the strongest characters of the book is Fuller’s mother, Nicola. Throughout Fuller’s life, her mother has been at once maniacal, devastated and cheerfully drunk. Although her bouts of insanity are heartbreaking to encounter from the perspective of a young child, it is also reassuring the way Nicola ultimately loved all living creatures, and her children. Three of Nicola’s five children died of various causes. Yet – outside of her several mental episodes – she still managed the farm, was strong-willed and hardworking, and unfailingly loved her husband and children.

Although Fuller and her family were immersed in a country where they were the minority – originally from Scotland – Fuller takes a more subtle approach at exploring racial tensions. In the first part of the book, there are comments made regarding drinking of the same cups as the locals, or Fuller’s poor treatment of her nannies. Fuller is shocked as a child in Zimbabwe when black children begin to attend her all-white school. Soon, she is the minority again, at school and at home.

But with maturity comes a wider view of her surroundings and the poverty that has surrounded them her whole life. At 14, Fuller is first invited into the home of a black African.

This is not the same as coming uninvited into Africans’ homes, which I have done many times. As a much younger child, I would often eat with my exasperated nannies at the compound (permanently hungry and always demanding), and I had sometimes gone into the laborers’ huts with my mother if she was attending someone too sick to come to the house for treatment. I had ridden horses and bikes and motorbikes through the compounds of the places we had lived, snatching at the flashes of life that were revealed to me before doors were quickly closed, children hidden behind skirts, intimacy swallowed by cloth.

Fuller is touched by the fact that this family has invited her to share food and shade. She is moved by the fact that her hosts are sharing their food, which they have little of, and who are emaciated from hunger. She is taken aback by their poverty. When she leaves, she rushes home to gather clothes and toys to share with the family. Her mother wisely tells her before she leaves that no matter what she does, it won’t go away. “It was there before you noticed… And it will be there after you leave.” This experience presents a very different view to a young Fuller of the Africa she thought she knew.

At times the Fullers have very little social interaction with anyone but their servants and farm workers. This is one of the reasons such a close bond was created between Fuller and her family, especially with her sister Vanessa. Vanessa seemed to be everything Fuller was not: older, feminine, artistic. But they had grown up in the same harsh environment that created a tough core. Their banter was that which only the closest of sisters can experience. In some instances they were downright mean, but this did not stop them from being there for each other in the most distressing of circumstances.

Tim Fuller is the last piece of this complex family puzzle. Not many mentions of him exclude the mention of some type of drink in his hand or a cigarette hanging from his lips, but it is apparent Fuller loves her father very much. No matter the faults of any of the Fuller family members, each are strong, loving people. They have survived death, violence, storms and wars. They moved from one decrepit country to another, but always together.

One Day at a Time

Title: Dry. A Memoir.
Author: Augusten Burroughs
Publishing Company: Picador
Publication Year: 2003
Rating: A

Amidst all the controversy surrounding James Frey and his quasi-memoir, I understand it must be difficult for other memoirists to feel the passive-aggressive stare fall upon them. The stress they must feel from fans and critics second-guessing their work. The Frey affair may affect the way readers and publishers approach memoir for years to come. But as readers (and writers) we still must understand and appreciate the power of memoir. With that said, Augusten Burroughs is one of the most fascinating memoirists of our time. He deserves to be applauded for his amazing work rather than speculated against.

Dry is a powerful account of Burroughs’ experience with alcoholism and his successes and failures within his treatment program. It is an honest account of the struggle within him to accept his alcoholism and the deeper issues that have driven him to drink. This honesty is enhanced by his dark, biting humor. He ravages the advertising world and laughs at his own superficiality. At times he is arrogant, self-centered and shallow. But he shows these qualities in such a way that make him likable at the same time. Yes, the guy only seems to care about himself. But how can you hate someone who struggles with whether to bleach or shave his chest hair, depending on how the roots will grow out (and admitting it openly to millions of people)?

One of the central themes of this book is the relationship between Burroughs and his friend “Pighead.” Through most of the book, Burroughs describes Pighead as a close friend who has essentially been pushed in the background by Burroughs’ drinking. But Pighead is also a source of emotional distress for Burroughs. He was once in love with Pighead, but it wasn’t until Pighead tested positive for HIV that Pighead was ready to return that love. And by that time Burroughs had convinced himself it was too late. What was really going on, he eventually admits, is that he was scared of losing Pighead and so he pushed him away. (And who can’t relate to that?!) He drank many times because it was easier to be numb than face his fear and sadness at the possibility of losing his friend. At the same time, his drinking caused him to not realize how sick his friend actually was. And, unfortunately, he didn’t get to say all the things he wanted to before it was too late.

At times it was difficult to read Burroughs’ story, especially after having my life changed by someone else’s drinking problem. But beneath the raw – at times hilarious – “recovery” speak in the book; there are many lessons for all to learn about being honest to the people around us and, most important, to ourselves.