Showing posts with label soapbox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soapbox. Show all posts

Sunday, February 24, 2019

Friday 5 on Sunday: Mischief Managed

This week's Friday 5 has a Harry Potter theme and it's killing me because I think the Harry Potter books are the trashy TV of the book world and are some of the most overrated books I've encountered. Also, Rowling keeps liking vaguely and not-so-vaguely transphobic posts on Twitter and it's really off-brand.

selective focus photography of grumpy face toddler sitting on plaid pad taken during daytime
 My "mediocre book" face. // Photo by Ryan Franco on Unsplash

At least the questions are interesting?

The Mirror of Erised doesn’t show a reflection of you at the moment, but of you and what your heart most desires. If you gazed into it today, what image would you see?

I would see SO MANY finished manuscripts. And I don't know how you could visually convey linguistic fluency: I guess a library full of books in Swedish, Korean, French, Farsi, Russian, German...

Who's really pissed at you right now?

There's a couple people in Stockholm I definitely haven't endeared myself to (and sometimes it feels like such a small city that I genuinely worry about running into them on the street or at an event), but I don't know if they're actually angry at me. Nor do I want to know!

What model vehicle would be great to turn into a flying car?

Obviously a Chitty!

What item in your house could use a dose of magic, and what would extraordinary quality would you like to imbue it with?

Hell yeah I want my oven to just materialize food out of nowhere. It's not that I mind that my dietary intake for the past few weeks has been peanut butter sandwiches, instant noodles, and pizza—I just know that I need a little more variety than that.

Among people you know, who is most likely and secretly born with magical ability?

If it could be anyone it might as well be me, right? I want it to be me.

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Friday 5: QotD

Image courtesy Adam Jaime on Unsplash


What kind of drunk are you?

Oh, so many different kinds! Chatty, aggressive, melodramatic. It tends to be, I think, whatever aspect of myself hasn't gotten a lot of air time recently. In vino (momentary) veritas.


What’s one of your language-related pet peeves?

This came up a while back, and I'll just say what I said then:
Editors are supposed to have an endless list of these, right? So the stereotype goes. We are the gatekeepers of language and so on and so forth. And I guess we all do, probably. But if you look at the layperson’s language pet peeves (“they’re/there/their”! “your/you’re”!) and the editor’s pet peeves, the overlap would probably be quite small.
My personal ones these days are The New Yorker's bizarre house style guide (coöperation? no thanks) and The New York Times' practice of referring to heads of state with honorific titles instead of, simply, their names.

What would be a good question to ask people you’ve just met, if what you really want to know is what they’re passionate about? You know, an alternative to “What do you do?” or “How do you know so-and-so?”

I like to ask people to name a movie they think is overrated and a movie they think is underrated. The reasoning in their answers is often revealing, and sometimes you get a good recommendation out of the question to boot!


When you get home super tired and super hungry, do you usually eat first or sleep first?

Food always comes first. Food above all else. All hail food.

You’re taking an exam. You aren’t sure about the answer to question 5, but you know it’s either “lions” or “tigers.” You get to question 11 and realize whatever the answer to 5 is, 11 is the other answer. Do you write “lions” as your answer to 5 and 11, thereby ensuring you’ll get one of them right? Or do you write “lions” for 5 and “tigers” for 11, risking two wrong answers but giving you a chance at two right ones?

Oh, this game theory realness! Before I did anything else I would reflect on the question, maybe work on other parts of the exam for a little bit, take a moment to let my wander off the topic entirely. But if I did all of that and I still didn't know, and didn't have even an inclination either way, I think I'd go for "lions" for both.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Talky Tuesday: Walden and Bibliotherapy

I moved! And then stopped updating this blog because I was flipping tired. I'm less tired now, theoretically, because instead of freelancing and hauling ass all over creation I have a proper grown-up office job that means I leave work at work instead of bringing it home and also I have weekends and time off and paid vacation days.

Is that what's bringing me out of my dry spell? you may ask. I mean, sure. In part. Mostly, though, it's the shitshow that was last Friday and the Kavanaugh hearings. It was a shitshow for a bunch of reasons, actually, and not all of them related to Kavanaugh. In my rage and frustration, I turned to my books (cheaper than therapy!) and pulled out Walden.

A stone bench by Walden pond on a sunny day.
That time Theophanes and I went to Walden Pond

It's a book I've loved since high school, and there's always something comforting in going back to the books of your formative years. It's like a hug from a loving parent, or your favorite comfort food. But more than that I needed a reminder of what I miss from America, what I'm proud of, to reorient my inner compass.

"Reading" is always my favorite essay in the whole collection. It has precious little to do with anything I was upset about on Friday, but still, it helped. I might even commit the entire essay to memory, so soothing is the act of reading it. For now, two of my favorite quotes:
The oldest Egyptian or Hindoo philosopher raised a corner of the veil from the statue of the divinity; and still the trembling robe remains raised, and I gaze upon as fresh a glory as he did, since it was I in him that was then so bold, and it is he in me that now reviews the vision. No dust has settled on that robe; no time has elapsed since that divinity was revealed.
And this one, which struck me the first time I read it. I copied it on to the notebook cover for my English binder immediately after I read it for AP English in the summer before 11th grade; if I were the artsy type I would cross-stitch it or write it out in calligraphy, frame it, and hang it on the wall alongside my bookshelves.
A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips; not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself.
The choicest of relics, indeed.

Wednesday, June 27, 2018

What I Read: Rien où poser sa tête (Nowhere to Lay One's Head)

If you're not subscribed to Asymptote's newsletter or following their blog, you're missing out. Their staff are like magical book sprites who leave little gifts of international literature in your RSS feed or email inbox. Rien où poser sa tête was one of those little gifts.

The cover of Francoise Frenkel's "Nowhere to Lay One's Head"
Image courtesy Gallimard


Of course, Nowhere to Lay One's Head turned up in Asymptote thanks to Brigitte Manion's review of the English translation. But since I have a passing familiarity with French, and really should practice a little now and then to keep it up, I opted to read the French original rather than the English or Swedish translations.

As a student, I had a hard time connecting with the books we read about Nazi Germany and the Holocaust. Fortunately I'm not a psychopath and so I can understand, on an intellectual level, why these books are important. I could then, too. I just resented them for not being better, considering the topic matter. (No, I'm not going to name them, because then I'll get a bunch of HOW COULD YOU NOT LIKE XXXXX in the comments. :P) Now that we're apparently willing to give Nazis the benefit of the doubt, I've been wondering lately: what do I think students should read instead of what I read in school?

I'd argue that Rien où poser sa tête is a good candidate. Trying to convey the horror of what happened through the concentration camps can be a bit much to take in. (Not that it should be forgotten, either.) It's so horrible as to be unreal, unfathomable. But because Frenkel's memoirs handle the slow agony of daily life under the Nazi regime, with rations and visa applications and constant upheaval (including children ripped away from their parents, I wonder if that sounds familiar at all?), it becomes easier to understand how these things were able to come to pass, and how they could easily come to pass again and how they already are again holy fucking shit.

Nowhere to Lay One's Head was saved from obscurity thanks to an incredible stroke of luck. I think we need to take advantage of that luck and get this in front of all of the eyeballs we can. Out of all of the books you're going to see reviewed on blogs and YouTube and wherever else this year, please make Nowhere to Lay One's Head the book you actually follow up on. Get it on Amazon, ask your library to order it, whatever. It's my birthday tomorrow; consider it your birthday present to me.

Plus ça change...

Friday, May 25, 2018

Friday 5: Mind Your Peeves and Qs

A small owl sitting on a branch in the daytime, looking grumpy.
Image courtesy Gunilla Granfalk on Unsplash.


What’s one of your language-related (that is, something people say or write) pet peeves?

Editors are supposed to have an endless list of these, right? So the stereotype goes. We are the gatekeepers of language and so on and so forth. And I guess we all do, probably. But if you look at the layperson's language pet peeves ("they're/there/their"! "your/you're"!) and the editor's pet peeves, the overlap would probably be quite small.

My personal ones these days are: The New Yorker's bizarre house style guide (coöperation? no thanks) and The New York Times's practice of referring to heads of state with honorific titles instead of, simply, their names.

Not what you were expecting, maybe!


What’s one of your dining-out-related pet peeves?

It's nobody's fault, but somehow the waiter always comes over to check on you just when your mouth is full of food. Or maybe they do this deliberately so as to avoid getting sucked into an actual conversation with someone who wants to nit pick the seasoning of the vegetables.


What’s one of your technology-related pet peeves?

Windows updates.


What’s one of your television-watching pet peeves?

Romance. Any time a show (or book or movie, for that matter) features a close friendship or even working relationship between a man and a woman, romance almost inevitably gets shoehorned in. If not outright romance, then something like Will They Won't They. It chafes for a lot of reasons (lazy way to add tension, heteronormativity, implying that the only possible relationship between men and women is romantic/sexual) but I think this one hits me personally because most of my inner circle are men. (Not for "women are just too much drama!" reasons; it just seems to have happened.) The close friendships I have with women are also way different than how they're portrayed in media (much more random weirdness, much less obsessing over shoes and sex) but at least they're not wholly misrepresented as some kind of waiting room for romance.

This is, incidentally, why I love Elementary so much. Sherlock and Joan are #FriendshipGoals to the extreme. Of course, now that I've said that, I've cursed the show to fall victim to exactly this trap. Sigh.


What’s something you do that you know peeves others?

Swedish has an expression: tidsoptimist. This is someone who lacks a solid grasp of how long it takes to get to places and (the implication is) is usually late.

I've been here for five years and I'm still a tidsoptimist. I still operate by American car-owning convenience and fail to take into account that I'm not leaving whenever I like, but according to public transportation's time table. I'm stricter about this with clients, or with traveling, but socially? All bets are off. I get there when I get there. (Maybe this is why I don't have many Swedish friends?)

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

101 in 1001, Round 3

As of the end of March, I finished up my third 101 in 1001 list. The final count is currently available on my 101 in 1001 page, but since that will be scrubbed in a few months, I'm memorializing it here, after the jump because it's a bit long. First, the commentary.

Proudest Moments

Out of all three lists, this one feels the most accomplished so far. I cleared around 60 goals completely, and I attempted a fair amount more. I'm not sure how that compares to past lists, since I don't feel like going back and comparing at the moment, but I did power through two pretty significant items:

1. I finished my modified TIME Top 100 novels list, a goal I've had since I first started this in 2009 (!).

2. I ran a goddamn 5K. I ran multiple 5Ks. This was a goal I'd set for myself on previous lists, then invariably take off the list in favor of something else because it felt too ambitious. And then I accomplished it by accident? Life is weird.


Moments of Reflection

1. I like the old-school Dr. Who, I really do, but we got up to the French Revolution story line and Lord Xenu kind of lost interest in it so we stopped watching. I don't really watch much TV or movies on my own, either, so if he doesn't want to watch something, I just won't watch it. (On the other hand, he's often quite keen to watch MST3K.) I'm torn between A) still including this because I like Dr. Who, or B) not including it because I'll probably fail at it again. I might just compromise and scale down the attempt (like, just finishing the French Revolution story line from the first series, or just finishing the first series, rather than the first two Doctors).

2. There were a lot of political things that got tacked on this list because The Election happened midway through. But I did a bad job counting them and an even worse job being consistent. I might scale it back, or figure out how to find my rhythm.

3. How much do I really care about that IMDB list? I don't know. But even though I failed pretty spectacularly on foreign movies and documentaries this time around, I do care about those, so that goal will definitely continue to stay on.

4. Now that running is a well-established habit, the next thing to tackle is strength training. I like yoga, but it's not the most efficient strength training route. The RCAF 5BX (or rather the adapted version here) seems like it might be a better option. I might also incorporate a planking challenge as an item? I don't know.


For the Next List

1. The reading goal is shaping up to be a combination of this Modern Library list and some books recommended in this post.

2. I might have to up my Swedish reading game, since I'm no longer in Swedish class. (Lord Xenu uses English with me so it's not like I get that much practice at home.)

3. I have some hard travel choices I'm going to have to make. After being invited to vend at last year's WorldCon (in Helsinki), it occurred to me that...I might do really well at WorldCon? It'll be in August 2019, which is sneaking up already. In addition to bulking up my Etsy stock, I would have to get a proper show table and display ready. On the plus side, one of my best friends (founding member of the Austin Feminist Science Fiction Book Club) got in touch with me about attending WorldCon in Dublin, fond as he is of the city (and, I hope, of me...!). The other horn of the travel dilemma is a wedding in Seoul, South Korea in March, which is less than a year away! Neither my sanity nor my budget can afford both (probably), so...


Saturday, March 24, 2018

Generic Etsy Success Guide Hype Post!

#GirlBoss! Lean in! #Hustle! Girl power! The future is female! // Katy Belcher

Hey, you! Do you want to be your own boss and never sleep again ever? Do you want a life with ~meaning~? Quit your day job and take your Etsy to the next level! Because work that's all about your special snowflake interests and hobbies is inherently more praiseworthy and of higher moral standing than a boring job working for other people!

These days I wipe my ass with $100 bills, but I started out as a mere peon just like you! I have plenty of heartwarming stories about making negative income on my shop and eating cup noodle and I will periodically pull one out to remind you that I'm a relateable, real person. See, if the secrets I'm going to sell you for $250 / month worked for me, they'll work for anybody!

It'll be hard work though, which I'll tell you to make it sound like my hype project will DEFINITELY propel you to success. If you just work hard and bootstraps yourself, you'll be successful! And if you're not, you either did something wrong or you don't want it hard enough!

I might even drop a couple of f-bombs throughout my otherwise bland PR hype to make it seem like I'm more unique than I actually am, and to give the impression that I'm "keeping it real." Or I might not and opt for the more saccharine mode. It depends: am I targeting hip young Millenials or am I targeting frustrated (possibly single?) mothers? Either way I'm probably targeting women. I guess it makes sense that women would want to opt out of a workplace culture where they get paid, on average, less money to put up with, on average, more bullshit. Which puts them in the perfect emotionally vulnerable spot to buy my expertise!

The one thing I won't own up to is that I sell items that are light on resources and often easily replicable (digital downloads, printable art, raw supplies), or that maybe I outsource to printers or drop ship my stuff. Maybe I'm even straight up reselling off of Alibaba. But never mind that! Surely the tips that work for my store that's based on bulk orders of inexpensive things that I can print again and again also apply to your store full of painstakingly handcrafted one-of-a-kind artisan goods. And try not to think about the fact the course costs $250 a month, and that earlier I boasted of 800 monthly subscribers. That's nothing to worry your pretty little head about.


Friday, March 16, 2018

Friday 5: Korea Guidance

I see your pun, Friday 5. Well played.

What would be a better name for the color of goldenrod-colored paper?

What's wrong with "goldenrod"?

Where did you get your silverware?

Either IKEA or the grocery store downstairs.

It is a weird tradition in America (and possibly elsewhere) for parents to have their children’s baby shoes bronzed. What artifact from this past week would you have bronzed as a keepsake and heirloom?

Last week was pretty unremarkable. If I had to pick anything, it might be the toy dinosaur that lives with Chuck, one of my snake plants.

I have no sentimental attachment to the dinosaur or anything. (I bought it as part of a Jurassic Park costume a few years ago.) I just think it would be funny to have it bronzed. Maybe I'll just spray paint instead?

What was the most recent ceremony you attended?

The wedding I went to in August.

What east Asian cuisine is good for your Seoul?

I lived and taught in South Korea for over two years, as I've probably mentioned before, and one of the (many) things I miss big time is the food. The Korean diaspora means that Korean barbecue is familiar to most non-Koreans who live in any metropolitan area that approaches international; it seems that bibimbap is also gaining traction thanks to the recent health food obsession with "Buddha bowls."

But that is only the tip of the iceberg, my friend.

Korean street food is the best, hands down. (Apologies to all of the gatuköks and Philly pretzel carts out there, but it's true.) My favorite in this genre is tteokbokki: dense rice cakes in a sweet and spicy sauce. It wasn't uncommon for teachers at my first school to spring for a whole tray of these for a "snack party" after a particular class finished a level test, since they were cheap, tasty, and filling. It helped that we had a little snack shack in the first floor of our building.

A step up from street food are the ubiquitous gimbap restaurants. I don't know enough about Korean food history to know whether or not these restaurants predate the appearance of American-style fast food chains in the peninsula, but I would guess that they did. These places specialize in cheap, easy-to-make meals and are popular with broke students and people with criminally short lunch breaks. (This is also the kind of restaurant built into Korean spas.) The backbone dish of these restaurants is gimbap (rice, veggies, and sometimes meat rolled in a sheet of dried black seaweed) and all of its varieties, but the menus always include a wide assortment of variations on jjigaes, larger portions of popular street food, and a few odds and ends. Anything off the menu here will be fantastic, though my personal favorites are dolsot bibimbap, rabokki (a combination of the aforementioned tteokbokki and ramen), and cheesy ramen. I actually don't care that much for gimbap, ironically enough, because I'm not a huge fan of black seaweed.

When it comes to "real" restaurants, places start to narrow down their menus to a handful of specialty dishes (or a handful of variations on one particular dish). Now you have your Korean barbecue restaurants, with various cuts of pork or beef to grill at your table. I preferred the chicken stir-fry equivalent, the marinated version known as  dak galbi; sometimes my coworkers and I even went out for duck. You have seafood restaurants, with raw fish, squid, and octopus. You have, borrowed from Japan, shabu-shabu. On a slightly lesser tier, you have chicken-and-beer joints. You have what are theoretically restaurants but are really bars with obligatory anju (bar snacks, or bar more-than-a-snack-less-than-a-meal), like stir-fried rice or seafood or kimchi pancake-fritters. (These bars are usually famous for the quality of their anju, though, so having to order to be allowed to drink isn't a problem at all.)

But for me, the crown jewel of Korean cuisine is something else entirely. The city where I lived, Uijeongbu, is famous for budae jjigae, a relatively modern invention that takes a traditional jjigae and incorporates the kind of meat found in American military MREs: sausages, hot dogs and (of course) SPAM. Unlike other jjigaes, it's usually served with ramen and glass noodles right in the dish.

By LWY at flickr - https://www.flickr.com/photos/lwy/2184707139/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3402989


As far as I can tell, Korean entrepreneurs haven't brought budae jjigae abroad yet. I guess the immediate connection with scraps and cast-offs from American military bases doesn't really jibe with the image Korea wants to present to the rest of the world? But that's a tragedy, because budae jjigae is so damn good. I've learned to make a lot of Korean food myself, to scratch my Koreastalgia itch, but the one thing that you can never just make yourself is budae jjigae. It's a dish best cooked in huge heaping batches, tended by a watchful restaurant employee, and enjoyed in the company of others. Like, if I were fabulously, obscenely wealthy, I would open a budae jjigae restaurant in Stockholm. That is how much I love this dish. One day...!

Monday, March 5, 2018

Capitalism Alternatives: Simbi

Around Christmas last year, I stumbled on the website Simbi. The idea is simple: connecting people around the world to trade and exchange via bartering instead of money. Users list the services they can provide and the help that they need, and the rest is self-explanatory.



I'm not naive enough to believe that we can build a complex and thriving society based purely on trade and bartering. We live in a global economy and you can't PayPal an order of groceries across the globe; much as I love freshly-baked bread, it would get pretty tiring to cart bags of it on the bus and then subway on my way home from a lesson every week. Thus, the utility of money.

At the same time, there's still plenty that can be traded or bartered for, as money is a way to value things, not a value in and of itself. (Though I'm sure most minor and mid-level bloggers and YouTubers reach a point where they'd rather get paid money than get a free monthly subscription box or bag of cat food or whatever.) Enter Simbi.

I joined as a favor to a friend of a friend, part of a holiday wishlist granting event. If you join Simbi through someone's affiliate-ish link, they get site credits ("simbis"). That's why I did it, originally; it was a free and easy thing to do, and it got someone else something that they valued. But then I stumbled on to a huge community of people with a variety of skills, services, and sometimes even goods to trade. Before the calendar rolled over to 2018 I'd already completed my first major deal—critiquing someone's sci-fi novella. Good practice for me as an editor, and while I wasn't paid in fungible government-backed currency, I still got something out of it. (In this case, the simbis I earned through novella critiquing were enough to cover the cost of social media promotion for my Etsy.)

Full disclosure: The links to Simbi I use throughout this post are my own affiliate-ish link, so if you join by clicking one of them, I'll get 25 simbis. I'll get another 25 if or when you complete your first deal. But it's not a pyramid scheme setup, so I don't take any cut of your deals.

When I first signed up, I was ambivalent about it; I will fully admit that it was the gamification aspect they added, with badges and completion percentages, that got me to set up my profile as thoroughly as I did and to offer as many initial services as I did. But then I was surprised when people immediately flagged interest in what I had to offer, including people who had knowledge that could really benefit me!

I can see how Simbi would be a really valuable platform for artists. Anyone trying to sell art or other indulgences (like, I don't know, STEM-inspired jewelry...?) knows that it's really hard to navigate the shark-infested reefs of consumer capitalism. Too much money and you price yourself out of the market; too little money and you're working for less than minimum wage. Psychology also means that sometimes things sell better when they're more expensive, because people perceive it as being of high quality (but not too much more expensive, or you have the problem of pricing yourself out of the market), but somehow you're still always trying to convince people that your art is "worth" the price you've put on it, whatever "worth" means.

But trading on Simbi can simplify that process. There are quite a few tax specialists on the site; maybe one of them could help settle your accounts with the tax man in exchange for a painting, sculpture, or photograph? Maybe you can find someone local to fix that creaky porch step in exchange for a custom portrait? One of my favorite Simbi deals was a custom piece of high-res digital art (which will shortly be professionally printed, framed, and up on my wall) in exchange for a few simbis, some Swedish candy, and one of my gel electrophoresis bracelets. I was able to work with an incredible artist and scratch an art itch that I've had for years.

Is it a substitute for being paid (like, actually paid) for your work? No, definitely not. But I've found it to be a meaningful supplement. Not the least because Simbi provides an environment for anxiety-free, meaningful social interaction. There are two factors at play here, I think. One is that because so much of the interaction around Simbi is based on negotiating deals and transactions, conversations with people are goal-oriented rather than open-ended. For me, that removes like 95% of the anxiety I have around talking to people. Smalltalk is hell, but transactions are easy. The other is that people on the site, by and large, have a healthy balance of idealism and practicality.* I'm an idealist at heart and at the end of the day that's where my inner compass points, but I won't deny that frou-frou hippie types can be (willfully?) ignorant and frustrating to work with.


*There definitely some weirdos, though. But there are always weirdos, and the Internet means you can just choose not to engage with the weirdos.

Real talk: sometimes I get tired of the Kokoba Etsy. Like, really super ultra tired. (And I realize it's the height of melodrama to say this when I haven't listed anything new in, uh, a long-ass time. It's still true. Peep my pretty high-key inactivity here.) But I've always been more interested in sending my jewelry to appreciative nerds than making this a 24/7 job. Hobby artists and crafters who sell their stuff will spend 90% of their hobby time creating and 10% of it marketing; pros will spend 90% of their time marketing and 10% creating to be able to sustain themselves. That doesn't sound like an awesome work-life balance to me, and frankly I'm not cut out for that.

Simbi, for me, represents an alternative. I can keep cranking out pi bracelets and DNA necklaces to keep my hands busy, but now my only option to offload them isn't to market myself. If I can trade them for cool things (like custom digital map art, recipes, ASL lessons, help with my complicated expat taxes, or houseplant caretaking tips), why not?

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

What I Read: Stone Butch Blues

A cover of "Stone Butch Blues" by Leslie Feinberg, featuring a black and white portrait of Feinberg with hir left hand on the side of hir face, looking thoughtful.


I'm in a few book clubs and lots of the books I read last year, especially towards the end, were book club selections. One of them is a bunch of random nerds on Discord and the theme is vaguely YA and SFF; another is the Austin Feminist Science Fiction club; the last one is a Facebook book club co-founded by one of my blogger friends. This one has no particular genre or focus, and so we tackle a pretty wide variety of books. Past selections that I've mentioned here include Madonna in a Fur Coat, The Road to Mecca, and Passing.

Stone Butch Blues was a heavy read, but somehow compelling. Even through the worst of what Jess experienced I felt pulled along; I needed to read more. Would she be okay? Would her friends, lovers, coworkers be okay? How would everything turn out? As we get to know Jess and her strength and determination, we also meet a wide variety of characters who move in and out of her life, from sympathetic union leaders to hostile coworkers to mentors and lovers and co-conspirators.

Centered as it is on the American gay and lesbian and black communities and the labor movement in the 60s and onward, the language includes some slurs and some of the events are obviously traumatic.At the same time, to say that the book is centered only on social justice issues is unfair. Really, the book is centered on Jess. If it's an activist novel, it's also in at least equal measure a character-driven bildungsroman with the beating heart of a human being desperate for love, family, and contact.

Stone Butch Blues also marks the end of my TIME Top 100 list goal! Yes, finally! (And yes, I gave up on Christina Stead and The Man Who Loved Children, with all apologies to MementoMori: we just have different tastes, my dude!) Yes, I've used my own discretion to modify this list for the sake of diversity throughout my project, but the goal never wavered from reading 100 modern classics. I'm getting away from myself, though; that's a post for later.

If you're interested, Feinberg made Stone Butch Blues available for free online. You can download a PDF from hir website at the previous link, or order a hard copy from Lulu.com.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Friday 5: One is Silver; The Other's Gold

Image courtesy Alex Chambers

Who made you laugh most in 2017?

I guess Lord Xenu (aka my partner), since I spent more time with him than anyone else.


What’s something you learned or discovered in 2017?

A friend of mine directed my attention to Ester Blenda Nordström, about whom there has been a recent spate of new media, including a documentary and a new biography.


In what way was 2017 better than 2016?

I think worse things might have happened in 2017, but they felt less bad (for those not directly impacted, obviously) because they were largely things we could see coming as of November 2016. The celebrity deaths in 2017 also seemed to have relented, at least a little, though my heart broke over Adam West.


What was your most pleasing purchase in 2017?

Houseplants! A humidifier! A stepstool! I'M A REALLY BORING ADULT, Y'ALL.


When in 2017 were you pleasantly surprised?

Blue waves in Virginia and again in Alabama. Let's keep that momentum going!

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Talky Tuesday: Port Authority Bus Terminal

Image courtesy Hudconja on Wikimedia
This is probably the first incidence of violence on US soil that has me actually #shook (or whatever). I remember where I was when I heard about the World Trade Center attacks in 2001, and I understood what the fallout would be (and dreaded it) (and 15-year-old me was pretty much spot-on in her vision of future America, sad to say). But I didn't feel connected to what happened at all, despite living fairly close to New York and despite having visited the World Trade Center for a school trip around five years before.

But when I was chatting with Best Chemist Friend (BCF) yesterday, in the middle of parsing out our constant background low-level dread, she texted, "ugh, great, and I just got a push notification on my phone that someone tried to blow up the port authority terminal."

"WHAT THE FUCK" was my response.

And now it's very real. I love bus trips. I think they're the perfect way to get around; taking the charter bus service into New York instead of driving myself is so much more enjoyable, and they're the only practical way to get one from my home to friends in upstate New York on a one-way trip. I've spent a lot of time in the Port Authority Bus Terminal. It's real and (dare I say it?) homey in a way that the World Trade Center never could have been for me. I always felt safe and even a bit cozy there, waiting for my bus among the badly outdated color scheme (the lower levels are...something) and fellow exhausted-looking passengers. I have the same warm, fuzzy feelings about the PABT that I have about Philadelphia's 30th Street Station and the Reading Terminal Market (and the adjoining Greyhound bus station). It's a little weird to talk about loving a bus station but there you have it. Also, can we all take a moment to admire how freaking gorgeous 30th Street Station is?

Image courtesy Mtruch on Wikimedia

I'm glad no one was gravely injured, including the perp. My reasons for this are as practical (being able to talk to him after the fact will give us important insights and data for preventing future attacks) as they are genuinely altruistic. I hope that this won't change how comfortable and relaxed it is to travel via the PABT (compared to, say, an airport). I hope this won't see a spike in hate and violence directed at minorities. I hope instead it makes people a little nicer, a little braver, a little more patient with each other.

And the next time I'm in the US (probably for another wedding, let's be real), I know I'll still be busing into New York via the PABT to visit some of my favorite people and make some new memories to cherish for a lifetime.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Friday 5: October 6 Through 10

The first week of October is National Customer Service Week in the United States and Kenya. Where have you received especially good customer service?

Flying Scandinavian Air Services (or whatever SAS actually stands for) is always a treat. But that said, I value price over comfort in air travel, and Norwegian wins on that front. And they're pretty good for a budget airline. Skimpy meal service (but I hate eating on planes anyway—the food is okay but it's just so cramped), but the planes are new and comfortable.

Noraebang! // Image courtesy PBS News Hou
Noraebangs (karaoke boxes) in Korea also are really good at customer service. One more than one occasion my friends and I received "service" items from the noraebang we were partying it up at: free beer, ice cream, or an extra half-hour of room rental.


The second Saturday in October was National Tree-Planting Day in Mongolia. When did you last do anything resembling tree-planting?

When you're a teacher, every lesson is like planting a tree!


October 4 was World Animal Day (the feast day of Francis of Assisi, the Patron Saint of Animals). What’s an obscure animal you know a thing or two about?


Okapi2

Okapis are related to giraffes and, just like giraffes, have blue-black tongues. They're also endangered, so maybe consider supporting okapi preservation as a holiday gift to yourself or others?


October 6 was National Poetry Day in Ireland and the United Kingdom. What’s a line of poetry that springs to mind now that you’re thinking about poetry?

I've been thinking about Karin Boye recently, so here:



Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan  
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer
                              och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider  -
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra  -
svårt att vilja stanna
                              och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden  -
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit
                              som skapar världen.

What’s in your pocket?

Nothing, because my pajamas don't have pockets!

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Talky Tuesday: Phonebanking for Viriginia

Local elections are coming up in Virginia. Local elections are also the ones that most voters don't bother voting in, which is how we end up with backwards-ass local governments that [insert your particular most-hated pet peeve here].

I'm unable to absentee vote in the small local elections coming up this year in Pennsylvania, so instead I'm opting to phonebank for Virginia.



Why Virginia?

Pundits and politicians are considering the local races in Virginia as a miniature bellweather on the current administration. If Republican candidates do exceptionally well, or as well as they always do, then Republican politicians in other seats will be less inclined to break from White House policy and rhetoric. But if they end up losing seats, or just having closer races that require more spending, then they might less inclined to tow the current party line.


But I'm not from Virginia!

Neither am I. There is an ethical question of how much moral right you have to try and influence another state's (or commonweath's) election. I can't answer that for you; I can only say that 1) since I'm not allowed to absentee vote in the races going on in PA, I want to do something civic-minded and 2) I put national interests over state borders. I'm not from Virginia but we're all Americans, right? Otherwise, feel free to research any local events that are closer to where you live. There are local elections happening all over the country!


What is phonebanking?

It's calling people and talking to them a bit and making notes in a database. If you've been using 5calls.org on the regular, you already know that they've diverted some of their resources to helping out Danica Roem. If you're interested in other races in Virginia, MobilizeAmerica has a whole bunch. listed, as does Indivisible. (If you're not keen on helping in Virginia, you can put in your ZIP code into MobilizeAmerica's website and find a more local event to support.)


But I hate the phone!

Me too! I don't know what to tell you except power through it. I made about 20 calls before I went to work yesterday, and I spoke to one person (who was perfectly nice, though too busy to talk). Depending on the time of day, lots of people won't be home. And a few numbers will be straight up disconnected. You can think about it was gathering data for the group—finding out which numbers have been disconnected—instead of trying to talk to someone. And if you do end up talking to another human being, you'll have a script of what to say right in front of you!

But it was still really stressful and I thought my heart would jackhammer right out of my chest. I did it, and I'll do it again, and maybe if I do it enough times it'll be no big deal.

 "Get Out the Vote" phonebanks also involve simply reminding people to vote—not trying to campaign for a particular candidate. And finally, we live in a time where you can sign up for "Get Out the Vote" text campaigns, so you don't have to call anyone at all! What a time to be alive.

The other piece of advice I have for phone calls is to be kind to yourself beforehand. I brewed some of my favorite tea that one of my friends back in the US sent me, lit a stick of my favorite "special occasions only" Japanese incense, and listened to some of my favorite Ur-American music: Fanfare for the Common Man, Rhapsody in Blue, etc.

If you're okay with the phone but are anxious about confrontation, you can try to focus on phonebanks that mobilize registered party members to vote rather than phonebanks that try to sway undecided voters.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

What I Read: Crossings

I originally requested Crossings from NetGalley because I was in the middle of working on a memoirs project and thought that it would be beneficial to read something else in the genre.

Image courtesy Penguin Random House


I was also, to be entirely honest, inherently put off by the book based on its content, as a more-or-less pacifist. Ironically enough, that also tilted me towards requesting Crossings, because I think it's important to engage in dialogue with people who disagree with you. It forces you to critically examine your own beliefs and principles, it builds empathy, and it broadens your understanding of the world. While I can't say that I now understand the appeal of going into combat or the thrill of engaging the enemy, I at least understand how it was appealing for Kerstetter. Even though the war memoirs were my least favorite part, they were still engaging.

What I found the most powerful, however, was everything that came after Kerstetter's tours in Iraq: his stroke and the possibility of recovery. Kerstetter gives a clear account of the cognitive impairments resulting from his stroke and also his frustration with them. Here he was, someone who had always loved reading and literature, who had gone through university and then medical school, now struggling to make it through children's books. War might not be anything I'll ever be able to relate to, but the effect that old age or an accident might have on my mental capacities is something that gnaws at me.

As America (and other nations) continue to cope with the metaphorical fallout from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, accounts like Kerstetter's will become invaluable as far as the domestic effects are concerned. How could we have better taken care of troops while they were in combat? How can we erase the stigma of PTSD? Can we better acclimate soldiers to their own crossings: from civilian to solider and then back again?

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Talky Tuesday: Running, "Good" Fatties, and Inspiration Porn

I'm taking a break from the slow eking-out of my travelogues to talk about running. Again.

A couple of weeks ago, I posted this on my personal Facebook:

Last Friday I woke up, had a cup of tea, and then went out and ran a 5K. Not any kind of official race; I mean I ran 3.1 miles, nonstop, around my neighborhood. (3.5 miles, if my running app is to be believed.) I'm including a recent, honest-but-not-flattering photo with this post so you can see more or less what I looked like when I did it, down to the hairdo and tanktop and sneakers. Probably equally sweaty, because damn Boston was SWELTERING that day. This is what a runner looks like. 
I'm talking about this on Facebook for a few reasons. The first is that I did something that I'm proud of, something I thought for years that I would never want (or be able) to do. Running a 5K was only slightly more likely, I thought, than going to Mars or winning the lottery. And last week I basically went out and did it by accident. Cool! I did the thing! I even *enjoyed* doing the thing! (And me *enjoying* running was, not so long ago, as alien to me as "enjoying paperwork" or "enjoying scrubbing toilets.") I worked hard at it for 18 months and then I did it without dying or injuring myself!* (I also did it without filling my albuterol inhaler 'script which in retrospect is a terrible idea for someone with asthma. Don't Do What Donny Don't Does!) 
*I did suffer a twisted ankle during all of this training, but not while I was actually running. I stepped off a sidewalk funny while I was in town. 
The second reason I'm talking about this is to be up front about something: it was hard. It was physically difficult (my earliest workouts were just 5 seconds of jogging mixed with 55 seconds of walking for a grand total of 15 minutes, and even those "easy" workouts were hard at times) and it was mentally difficult (exercising in public while fat and female is fraught). I felt weird and embarrassed and discouraged way more than I felt awesome. Sometimes it felt like there was something wrong with me for finding it so hard and progressing so slowly. If you feel like that about anything -- exercising, learning something new, coping with mental illness -- I want you to know that my fat, sweaty, awkward, struggling self knows what it feels like. I don't know if it'll get better for you or not when it comes to that particular arena of self-improvement, but I know what it's like in that moment and I see and recognize your struggle. We're all reforming fuck-ups together! 
The third reason I'm posting this screed with this specific honest-but-not-flattering photo is to make it clear that 1) I didn't wait until I wasn't fat, or until I was less fat, to try to do the thing and 2) I didn't do the thing to be a "good" fatty or to make me less fat. I did it because I wanted to, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could, and then at some point just because I liked it. 
This is what a runner looks like. It's not a "before" (hell, or even an "after") photo. It's me. The body I have *right now* can do this awesome thing. And maybe more! Maybe I'll train for a 10K. Maybe I'll benchpress my own bodyweight. Maybe I'll take dance lessons or take up MMA. Maybe I'll just keep running around three miles three days a week. During it all, I'll almost certainly continue to remain more or less fat. 
Every single person reading this is already capable of so much, just the way they are. All of us not equally much, or of the same things -- limits DO exist, illnesses and disabilities take their toll, we all only have so much spare time -- but often of much more than we realize. Your body is fine the way it is.
I shared this post with this picture of me visiting Diana (of Redskirts and Arisia fame) in Boston:

Diana looking all business casual dressy fly and me looking like a sweaty mess, in front of a burrito restaurant.


I suspect people might have misunderstood my desire to disable comments on the post. It was friends-only, and the friends on FB who get to see the friends-only stuff aren't assholes. I didn't think anyone would be mean or shitty about it—effusive praise is what would bug me, and naturally that happened (some of it more easy for me to digest than others). The idea that someone might process the picture and post as "inspiration porn" is what would bug me.

Inspiration porn, if you're unfamiliar with the term, is the use of images of disabled athletes or artists or whoever used as a means for the able-bodied to feel inspired (or to guilt them into Doing The Thing). This article on The Mighty has more information about that. While fatness and physical disability are not marginalized to the same degree, or equivalent in any way, I think, to an extent, images of fat people accomplishing cool shit are leveraged similarly. There can also be a well-meaning condescension and patronization when it comes to images of fat athletes or fat aspiring athletes: "How cute of you to try!" "Good for you for being a good fatty!"

This is better than images of fat people being distributed for the purposes of ridicule, but it's not really ideal, either. And it's exactly why I wanted to disable comments. I knew that no one was going to come at me with a shitty comment; it was much more likely for people to be effusive in praise and encouragement, all of which would have meant well but some of which would no doubt be coming from that place of "I'm inspired by your willingness to do this thing with a body I consider undesirable (even as we are friends because of my admiration for your personality etc.)" "I'm glad you're doing something to become less Fat." If you're thinking or feeling those things when you see pictures of fat athletes, please ch-ch-checkity-check yo' self.

On a positive note, I'd like to thank LineageWear for those awesome peacock bike shorts and my other leggings: they really are the #bestleggingsever. (If you don't have a pair of your own, you can shop through my LineageWear referral link and get a 10% discount. TREAT YO' SELF!)

I'd also like to thank Aardvark Sports Shop in Bethlehem, PA. When I walked in there almost a year ago to get fitted for my first-ever pair of running shoes, I thought I would die of embarrassment. But the employee who helped me was super chill and treated me and my big ol' duck feet with perfect, expert helpfulness and found me the perfect shoes. Gear matters, and without those leggings or those shoes I wouldn't have been able to do what I did.

And finally, I'd like to put in a good word for Charity Miles. A lot of times it was easier to go out and do the thing because I knew it would help a better cause as well as myself. Personally, I run for charity: water because damn there's nothing like a glass of cold water after a brutal run!

Playlist shout-outs include: basically every Tarantino soundtrack up to Kill Bill Vol. 1, Say Sue Me, Kanye (I'm trash), Garbage, Eve 6, Drunken Tiger/MFBTY, The Blue Hearts, and The High-Lows.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Friday 5: Off-Balance

I'm back from vacation and I have a TON I want to write about here, which is good because it'll make up for my relative silence during my absence! Bad news is that it might take a while to construct proper blog entries out of my travel notes (a habit I've picked up in recent trips: taking notes during my vacations so that later I can actually remember what I did), and the longer something takes the less likely I am to do it. So until then, a Friday 5!



What most recently made you giddy?

Two things: dancing at a really good wedding, and watching the bats emerge at Natural Bridge Caverns. Those two memories alone are worth every penny I spent for this trip.

The groom and I (center), crashing a Lunar New Year party in 2010.

Mexican free-tail bats outside Natural Bridge Caverns.



What most recently left you agog?

Sometimes the Friday 5 teaches me new words. I always took "agog" to mean "shocked" or "surprised"; I double-checked just now and instead it's "full of intense interest or excitement."

Pretty much my whole trip to the US had most recently left me agog, I suppose. I packed a lot into just three weeks of visiting!



What most recently left you aghast?

Despite all of the good vibes and good friends in my trip, there's no denying I picked a tumultuous time to visit (which, welcome to the next three years). Neo-nazis demonstrating publicly, counter-protesters being injured or even murdered . . . and the worst part is I'm not even surprised.

A close friend of mine and his girlfriend are great admirers of James Tiptree, Jr. They saw me off from Boston with a copy of Her Smoke Rises Up Forever (though I think I left it in Albany, or possibly Old Orchard Beach), and one of the stories in there seemed all the creepier in light of contemporary goings-on: "The Screwfly Solution."



What in your life is the most higgledy-piggledy?

Landing the next student or project is always higgledy-piggledy. Freelance life!



 What was your week a mish-mash of?

Maine, Massachusetts, Copenhagen, Stockholm. I was all over the place this week!

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

What I Read: The Dispossessed

Almost every time I talk about science fiction on this blog, I bring up my brother's gorgeous Easton Press collection of leather-bound science fiction classics. Fortunately, he was cool about sharing, so I got to enjoy the collection as much as he did (maybe even more?) and my first experience with a lot of classics of the genre came out of it: Neuromancer, She, Dying Inside, The Doomsday Book, and Dune, to name a few. (Aside: the ideal form of Dune is in a leather-bound hardcover edition with metallic trim. Somehow that elevates it from space opera into grand epic.)

But sometimes those books fell a little flat. The Diamond Age was one of those. The Dispossessed was another. I must have been 13 or 14 when I tried reading it, maybe a bit older, and it just couldn't stick. I had this problem with LeGuin generally—A Wizard of Earthsea was on a semi-required reading list a few years before I tried to tackle The Dispossessed, but again I couldn't seem to get into it. Since then I just wrote LeGuin off as one of the great and admirable giants of science fiction who just wasn't for me. 

Fast forward to 2017, and I'm getting ready to visit one of my best friends; my visit will coincide with the August meeting of his feminist science fiction book club. This is the same feminist science fiction book club that brought The Fifth Season to his attention, and then subsequently mine when he gave me a copy as a gift back in October. 

Their scheduled book is Karen Memory, but he let me know that:

 "[w]e also might be discussing The Dispossessed, which was this month's book but most people couldn't make it to this month's discussion (and I really want to discuss The Dispossessed again, there's so much to talk about)" 
"man i tried reading the dispossessed in high school and couldn't get into it, but maybe i'm a better reader now" 
"The Dispossessed is sooooooooooooo good. Le Guin is hard to get into (especially in high school, yeesh, I can't imagine), but this is one of the best books we've read so far"

Good news, everyone! I am a better reader now, because I finished The Dispossessed in record time! How many years late to the game am I with this one?



First of all, I'm proud of myself for finishing a book I DNF'd years ago. My own book club tackled The Invisible Bridge for April? May? and despite picking at it for two months I just couldn't get into it, and finally I returned it to the library, DNF'd. It's not fault of the book's; the writing is actually fluid and snappy, and the rather large cast of characters are unique and well-sketched. I guess a novel about Hungarian Jews during World War II is a little too real, right now? Whatever the reason, it slowed down my reading and I went from being 5 books ahead of my GoodReads goal to being a book behind. Madonna in a Fur Coat was the shot in the arm I needed to get back to reading again, and The Dispossessed  was the self-esteem boost I needed after the first DNF I've had in a long, long while.

But while I can see why teenage me couldn't get into The Dispossessed, adult me really liked it. I liked the little grammatical nuances of Pravic (like the total absence of possessive pronouns), I liked the world-building, I liked how Urras was a whole planet full of nations at cross-purposes instead of a single monoculture. I liked how neither Urras nor Anarres were all-good or all-bad, but both oppressive and less than ideal in their own way, though maybe that's pessimism on Le Guin's part. (Or maybe it's just realism. #bleak)

But I think the most pertinent part of The Dispossessed is actually connected to some complaints leveraged at the March for Science: science shouldn't be political! science doesn't have an agenda except the truth! and so on. But Shevek's presence on Urras (and specifically, within the nation-state of Io) is entirely political, as is the knowledge Io hopes to gain from him. Knowledge doesn't exist in a vacuum, and scientists have an obligation to be clear-eyed about the impact of their science beyond the narrow scope of academia. If scientists are only willing to engage in politics to the extent that politics interferes with their ability to do science, rather than to ensure the responsible application and dissemination of the work they do, then we're boned.

Friday, June 9, 2017

Friday 5: MVP

What’s the most important single ingredient in trail mix?

Here's my typical trail mix:

Image of M&Ms from Anitapepper on Morguefile.com

What’s the most important single topping in a taco?

Shredded cheese!


What’s the coolest instrument in an orchestra?

I'm going to go with the harp. A deep and abiding love for The Marx Brothers, and Harpo in particular, has left me enamored with this particular instrument.



What’s your favorite animal at the zoo?





I love giraffes and how cute-awkward they are.



I also love okapis, which aren't quite so common in zoos, but I'm going to count them anyway because they're relatives of the giraffe and they also have a tough time, so they can use some extra love. (Donate to the Okapi Conservation Project if you feel like helping them out!)


Which are the best pieces in a sampler box of chocolates?

The ones that don't mix unholy abominations into chocolate, like nuts or peanut butter. Anything else is great, but nuts? Peanut butter? Why would you do that to perfectly good chocolate? Why??

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

What I Read: No-No Boy

I have two big shout-outs/thanks in this post. First, for Adam over at Memento Mori who mentioned this in a haul or TBR or review video. As soon as he mentioned it, I realized that I hadn't really read anything about the Japanese internment camps, like, ever. I think we had a copy of Baseball Saved Us somewhere in the house, but I want to say it was my brother's (baseball fan that he is) and not mine. I might have never even read it and just remember the cover.

I've talked endlessly about how the TIME Top 100 Novels list is a lot of white dudes; I made some changes and turned it into my Classics Club List. I halfway knew early on in that goal that I wanted to read something by an East Asian author, a group that was more or less totally excluded from the original list. A friend recommended Farewell to Manzanar, which I still absolutely intend to read, but I had a hard time finding it in my libraries, and it felt a little weird to include a straight-up memoir on a list of novels. 

So Adam basically dropped the perfect book in my lap, or at least the perfect title. The second shout-out and thanks go to Henny Blanco (of Dirt Nap Podcast fame), who was kind enough send me a huge dump of ebooks from my Goodreads TBR, including . . . No-No Boy

Image courtesy of University of Washington Press
The story of John Okada, the author, is kind of tragic. No-No Boy is his only novel. It was published in 1957 to a lukewarm reception at best, and so he more or less left the writing world for the rest of his short life. He died in the early 70s of a heart attack, and while he was working on another novel at the time, the documents are lost to us so it's hard to tell if he just had notes, or if he had a completed draft, or if he had something almost completely finished.

The title refers to the loyalty questionnaire Nisei Americans (American-born Japanese) were asked to swear when being called up to the draft, which consisted of a number of questions. The last two were real humdingers:

Question 27: Are you willing to serve in the armed forces of the United States on combat duty, wherever ordered?

Question 28: Will you swear unqualified allegiances to the United States of America and faithfully defend the United States from any and all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance or obedience to the Japanese emperor, or other foreign government, power or organization?

Thousands of people answered "no" to both questions and ended up serving time in prison for it, and they became known as "no-nos" or "no-no boys." Okada was not one of them, but the protagonist of his novel is. No-No Boy is the story of Ichiro Yamada, a no-no boy who comes back to his life in Seattle after his prison sentence. His mother is proud of him for being a no-no boy; she thinks Japan actually won the war, and that soon she and other loyal Japanese will get to go back. Others are, unsurprisingly, furious with Ichiro, white and Nisei alike. Eventually Ichiro runs into Kenji, a fellow Nisei and a veteran who lost his leg in the European theater and who is only getting more and more ill. Kenji seems to understand Ichiro, at least better than anyone else does, and the two spend a lot of time together as Ichiro tries to figure out his new place in the world. 

I'm so glad I finally got to read this. (Thanks again, Henny!) I'm not sure if I missed out on it during my American literature education because it's obscure, or because my education in particular was really spotty, or because I'm just not as well-read as I'd like to think.

There are a handful of books I review here that I really hope people will go out and read (if they haven't already). Usually it's because they're really good, but this is one I think we should read because it's important. Well, and it's also really good and worth reading regardless, but for all of the novels we have World War II veterans, it's important to remember what was happening to other Americans at the same time. No-No Boy widens that focus and broadens that perspective. I'll leave off with a quote from early on the in the novel, when Ichiro decides to pay a visit to the university where he was studying before the internment camps and then prison:

Not until the bus had traversed the business district and pointed itself toward the northeast did he realize that he was on the same bus which he used to take every morning as a university student. There had been such a time and he vividly brought to mind, with a hunger that he would never lose, the weighty volumes which he had carried against his side that the cloth of his pants became thin and frayed, and the sandwiches in a brown grocery bag and the slide rule with the leather case which hung from his belt like the sword of learning which it was, for he was going to become an engineer and it had not mattered that Japan would soon be at war with America. To be a student in America was a wonderful thing. To be a student in America studying engineering was a beautiful life. That, in itself, was worth defending from anyone and anything which dared to threaten it with change or extinction. Where was the slide rule, he asked himself, where was the shaft of exacting and thrilling discovery when I need it most? If only I had pictured it and felt it in my hands, I might well have made the right decision, for the seeing and feeling of it would have pushed out the bitterness with the greenness of the grass on the campus and the hardness of the chairs in the airy classrooms with the blackboards stretched wall-to-wall behind the professor, and the books and the sandwiches and the bus rides coming and going. I would have gone into the army for that and I would have shot and killed, and shot and killed some more, because I was happy when I was a student with the finely calculated white sword at my side. But I did not remember or I could not remember because, when one is born in America and learning to love it more and more every day without thinking it, it is not an easy thing to discover suddenly that being American is a terribly incomplete thing if one's face is not white and one's parents are Japanese of the country Japan which attacked America. It is like being pulled asunder by a whirling tornado and one does not think of a slide rule though that may be the thing which will save one. 

I hope that whet your appetite! If you've read No-No Boy, I'm curious about what you think. If not (or even if you have, I guess), what are some other under-read and underappreciated classics that you think should be more famous? Why?