Reading the OED: One Man, One Year, 21,730 Pages

Ammon Shea

Reading the OED: One Man, One Year, 21,730 Pages by Ammon Shea is an absolute delight. Shea describes his experience of spending a year reading the 20 volumes of the Oxford English Dictionary. He begins each chapter with a narrative of his experience and then selects about half a dozen words from each letter of the alphabet, defining and commenting on its meanings and usage. Some of the examples he provides are quirky; many are obscure; others are outright hilarious. Shea describes the OED as “the greatest story ever told.”

The pages of his foray into the OED are peppered with wit and sarcasm. His enthusiasm for the task is contagious, conveying genuine fleshment (the sense of excitement that comes from initial success) as he invites us to join him in conjubulation (being jubilant or rejoicing with another person). I encourage you to dispel your addubitation (suggestion of doubt) and delve into Shea’s Reading the OED. I assure you it will happify you immensely (to make happy).

The Lost Books of The Odyssey

Zachary Mason

The Lost Books of the Odyssey by Zachary Mason is a series of 44 short chapters, some of which are loosely based on Homer’s Odyssey, and some of which are creative re-imaginings, scenarios, and “what-ifs” that are so far removed from the Homeric poem they’re no longer recognizable as off-shoots from the original.

I approached the novel expecting a re-telling of the Odyssey, so I got slightly irritated every time Mason deviated substantially from the original. But to be fair to the author, his aim was not to re-tell. His aim was to take us down alternative, untrodden paths where, for example, we entertain the notion that Odysseus is a coward who hides behind a pseudo identity; where Helen is his spouse; where Penelope commits suicide; and where Scylla, Circe, Athena, and Greek and Trojan warriors are completely re-imagined. Reading the novel was almost like taking a romp through an alternative fantasy world where even the characters question what is “real” and what is fabrication.

If we accept the author’s premise that the stories are based on missing fragments of Homer's Odyssey, and if we are willing to abandon a desire for more faithful adherence to the original, then we will find much here that is commendable. The episodes are highly imaginative, creative, entertaining, well crafted, and well written.

Even though I prefer re-tellings of classical myths that adhere closer to the original, (check out my review of David Malouf's Ransom), I recognize The Lost Books of the Odyssey to be an extraordinary feat of the imagination and an entertaining, satisfying read. 

Homegoing

Ya'a Gyasi

Ya’a Gyasi’s Homegoing is an ambitious novel exploring the impact of slavery and colonialism on the people of Ghana and America’s northern and southern states. It does so through a series of vignettes focusing on two stepsisters and several generations of their descendents. The sisters never meet. One sister, Effia, marries a British slave trader; the other, Esi, is sold into slavery. The chapters alternate from a descendent of one sister to a descendent of the other until we get to the present day. The story spans about 250 years.

Thankfully, Gyasi includes a table to chart the descendents of each of the sisters to minimize the confusion caused by the shifting perspectives. We barely have time to get familiar with one character before we are thrust to the other side of the world and introduced to a new character or to a character we met earlier who is now decades older. There is little time for character portrayal and development. The effect of all this shifting in time and space and character gives the novel the feel of a series of jarring episodes. This is especially true in Part 2 which seems contrived and where one gets the sense the characters are not fully formed but are stereotypical mouthpieces.

Having said that, I still feel this is a remarkable achievement as a debut novel and well worth reading, primarily due to the strength of Part 1.

The Iliad: A New Translation by Caroline Alexander

Caroline Alexander

It has been a number of years since I last read The Iliad, preferring The Odyssey since it doesn’t have quite as much blood and gore or the constant litany of men killing and men being killed by arrows and spears and swords. I wasn’t sure I was up to reading about “darkness covering their eyes” or the sounds of clashing armor as men stumble to the ground. But learning of Caroline Alexander’s translation of The Iliad, I decided to tackle it again, especially since this is the first translation I know of done by a woman. I wasn’t disappointed.

Alexander does an impressive job. I have read translations of The Iliad by Richmond Lattimore, Robert Fitzgerald, and Robert Fagles. My favorite has always been the Lattimore translation, but I would put Alexander’s translation right up there with the best of them. I found her language to be more accessible and lucid than previous translations. Her lines have a certain rhythmic quality which I can only assume is similar to the Greek. And although I don’t speak Greek, I appreciate her line-by-line translation, retaining the same number of lines as in Homer. This will make it easier for Greek speakers to do a line-by-line comparison.

I won’t deny I find it particularly commendable that Alexander’s translation shatters yet another glass ceiling. But it bears repeating that her translation of The Iliad is a mammoth achievement that stands on its own merit. I strongly recommend it. 

Beauty is a Wound

Eka Kurniawan

“One afternoon on a weekend in March, Dewi Ayu rose from her grave after being dead for twenty-one years.” So begins Eka Kurniawan’s epic novel, Beauty is a Wound. With that startling opening sentence, we are hurled from one fantastical situation to another. In this topsy-turvy world where violence and rape abound, a legendary beauty marries a dog, a pig turns into a human, a woman wears an iron chastity belt to prevent her husband from raping her, and ghosts interact with humans and with each other on a regular basis. It’s as if we ventured with Alice down the rabbit hole where the bizarre becomes plausible. All of these fantastic events take place against a backdrop of the recent history of Indonesia with its struggle for independence, guerrilla warfare, bloodshed, and massacres.

The novel recounts the story of the Dewi Ayu, the most beautiful, sophisticated prostitute in the village of Halimunda. The story of Dewi and her four daughters intertwines with cultural folklore to such a degree that the lines separating them blur with the latter bleeding seamlessly into the narrative of Dewi Ayu and one or another of her daughters.

Kurniawan has written a brilliant tale, one that is simultaneously imaginative, compelling, funny, tragic, and an absolute delight to read. Highly recommended. 

The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary

Simon Winchester

The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester chronicles the origins and development of the Oxford English Dictionary. One would assume the history of a dictionary—even one as illustrious as the OED—would be dry. But thanks to the colorful character of William Chester Minor and the skillful treatment of Simon Winchester, the tale was riveting.

Minor, an American suffering from mental illness that led him to commit a murder, was incarcerated for most of his life in an asylum in England for the criminally insane. He was a brilliant intellectual with a lot of time on his hands.

When Dr. James Murray, the editor of the OED, put out a call for volunteers to assist in compiling definitions for the dictionary, Minor answered the call with unparalleled commitment and fervor. He worked systematically and industriously on the project for years. His contributions (over 10,000 definitions) to the creation of the OED were critical, earning him the respect and friendship of Dr. Murray.

Winchester is a master story-teller. His writing is engaging, informative, and peppered with a great sense of humor. He tells us in the opening pages of Minor’s prodigious contribution to the OED and of his residency in the insane asylum, a fact unknown to the sedate James Murray until they finally meet after 20 years of working together. Winchester builds up the suspense so we are anxious for the meeting to take place. Weaving in and out of their stories is a description of the painstaking and time-consuming work that went into the creation of the OED, a 20-volume project that was 70 years in the making.

Winchester takes what could have been a boring subject if executed by less skilled hands and turns it into an entertaining, informative, and fascinating story of the compilation of an epic achievement in the English language and of the two individuals instrumental in its creation. 

Honor

Elif Shafak 

Honor by Elif Shafak is the story of three generations of a Kurdish family told from multiple first person points of view. Shifting backward and forward in time, the narrative weaves together its different threads. The novel reads much like a puzzle that has to be pieced together to arrive at a complete picture. By giving us access to the thoughts of each of the characters, Shafak helps us to understand the motivation for their actions. This includes Iskender who commits a murder having convinced himself it is the only way to preserve his family’s honor. We may not like his character, but we understand why he felt driven to do it.

Shafak explores the role of cultural values in our lives and how they can sometimes be constructive and other times destructive. The novel is about the impact of cultural baggage that is so imbued in us, we wear it like a second skin, unable to shake it off even if we are in a foreign land miles away from our place of origin.

The novel has a wide scope, taking the reader from a Kurdish village on the border of Turkey and Syria, to the streets of London and Abu Dhabi. It covers a broad spectrum of themes: the immigrant experience, racism, domestic abuse, parental love—or lack thereof, loveless marriages, oppressive gender roles, and the positive and negative legacies we inherit from our culture and our family.

I enjoyed certain aspects of the novel but at times felt it was somewhat contrived--as if the characters served as mouthpieces for ideas. I felt this was especially true of Zeeshon who seems to be inserted in the novel for the sole purpose of precipitating Iskender's ostensible redemption.

Traveling With Pomegranates: A Mother and Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey, and France

Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor

Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor’s Traveling with Pomegranates chronicles the travels of mother and daughter as they visit archaeological sites, museums, and sacred places in Greece, Turkey, and France. The chapters alternate between mother and daughter with each one trying to cope with her own existential crisis—the mother because she is turning fifty, the daughter because she was rejected from the graduate school of her choice. During their travels, they redefine themselves and form a close bond. This is all very interesting, but. . .

They were traveling in Europe, seeing the most amazing sights that many of us will never have the opportunity to visit, and yet they spent most of their time indulging in self-recrimination and self-absorbed navel gazing. Instead of appreciating that they have the time, the financial support, and the family support to travel as much as they do, they wallow in self- pity and engage in self-analysis and analysis of each other.

I was looking forward to reading this book because I love mythology and the ancient sites associated with myths. I enjoyed the sections where mother and daughter actually described the sights they visited. But these were too few and too far between. For the most part, they used the sights as platforms to veer back to their very privileged selves and whine about their angst. Disappointing, to say the least. 

Evantide

Kent Haruf

Just as with Plainsong, the language of Evantide by Kent Haruf, the second book in his trilogy, evokes a simpler time in life when people spoke plainly, when a community rallied to support those dealing with life’s losses and tragedies, when people genuinely seemed to care for each other by showing their kindness and generosity in very tangible ways. We meet new faces here along with some already familiar to readers of Plainsong. The McPheron brothers are as endearing as ever. As was true of Plainsong, Haruf performs an amazing feat of capturing the uniqueness of his characters through their actions and through dialog stripped to bare minimum with short sentences and few words.

Evantide wasn't as uplifting as Plainsong. Its characters struggle with poverty, violence, abuse, tragedy, loss, and loneliness. But peppered throughout is evidence of people’s kindness, generosity, simplicity, and compassion, all of which are lovingly and beautifully rendered against the backdrop of a rural, rugged town in Colorado. 

A Spool of Blue Thread

Anne Tyler

To paraphrase the opening line of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, all families are quirky; each family is unique in its quirkiness. This is what came to mind as I read Anne Tyler’s A Spool of Blue Thread. Just as a spool of thread slowly unravels, Anne Tyler’s novel slowly unwinds to reveal the lives of four generations of the Whitshank family. It is the very quirkiness of this family that makes them unique and yet so recognizable and engaging.

In a quiet, slow-moving family drama, Tyler realistically portrays her characters with all their eccentricities, petty squabbles, sibling rivalries, and secrets. Hovering in the background is the house they live in, rendered with such loving detail and given so much importance that it seems to emerge as another character in the novel.

The first half of the novel is stronger than the second half, and the ending was disappointing since there was no sense of closure. This is not a fast-paced novel in which the reader races from one exploding event to another. It is a novel about people. And when it comes to writing novels with realistic characters that seem to step off the page, Anne Tyler is mistress of the craft. 

Classical Literature: An Epic Journey From Homer to Virgil and Beyond

Richard Jenkyns

In Classical Literature: An Epic Journey from Homer to Virgil and Beyond, Richard Jenkyns displays his extensive knowledge of the classics. He surveys 1,000 years of classical Greek and Roman literature. Jenkyns brings the greatest thinkers of classical literature to life through lively, engaging, and informed discussions of their work. He sprints from one figure to the next, evaluating their work, expressing his opinions, challenging outworn interpretations while simultaneously dropping gems of insight. He discusses the plays of the great tragedian Aeschylus in new and thought-provoking ways. His sentences can take unexpected turns. His views can be somewhat unorthodox as when, for example, he describes Sophocles’ Ajax as leaving us “in a state of appalled wonderment.” Or when he says of the Romans that their original achievement was to “invent imitation."

Throughout the work, Jenkyns peppers his analysis oughout the work, Jenkyns peppers his analysis with humor and tongue-in-cheek irony, which makes for a thoroughly engaging and informative read. The breadth and scope of his knowledge is impressive. This book is highly recommended for those with an interest in Greek and Roman literature.

Plainsong

Kent Haruf 

Kent Haruf’s Plainsong is a quiet, subtle, and beautifully written novel about a fictional rural town in Colorado. Everything about it is understated. Haruf portrays a diverse range of heart-warming characters vividly, with elegance, simplicity, and compassion. We come to know these characters even though we are never made privy to their thoughts. The novel has no internal monologues. What dialogue exists between characters is sparse. Haruf reveals his characters through their actions and the few words they say to each other. The reader is drawn in and finds himself/herself invested in their struggles as they cope with the challenges life has thrown in their direction.

It is a beautiful story told with clarity, elegance, and above all, simplicity. We gradually come to know and love the gentle, unassuming characters. Their quiet generosity and the support they give one another in times of crisis is heart-warming and restores one’s faith in the goodness of people. 

The Jungle

Upton Sinclair

Written in 1906, Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle follows the plight of Jurgis Rudkus, a Lithuanian immigrant and his family, as they struggle to make a living in Chicago. Jurgis finds work at a meatpacking company, allowing Sinclair to expose the unsanitary and inhumane working conditions of the industry. Speaking very little English, Jurgis and his family become victims of con artists, corporate greed, political corruption, violence, harassment, and exploitation. They reel from one catastrophe to another, from one tragedy to another. We witness their physical and moral decline as the novel progresses. Sinclair’s description of the horrific working conditions and grossly contaminated meat sold to unsuspecting consumers caused a huge public outcry. This led the government to implement much needed reforms, one of which was passage of the Meat Inspection Act.

Sinclair performed a valuable service in exposing the horrors of the meat packing industry at the turn of the century. However, at times his novel reads more like a political treatise than a work of fiction. He hammers home his political agenda so heavily that the novel borders on becoming tiresome. But possibly this heavy-handed intrusion of political, economic, and social injustices was necessary at the time to get the public’s attention

The Lowland

Jhumpa Lahiri

Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Lowland depicts the lives of an Indian family told against the backdrop of a politically turbulent period in India. It focuses on two brothers who come of age in the 1950s. Their paths diverge when one of them moves to America while the other becomes progressively more embroiled in revolutionary activities in India. Lahiri’s skill in storytelling lies in weaving her narrative in such a way as to transcend the specificity of a particular family. Her characters experience the fragility and vicissitudes of life in all its challenges of violence, betrayal, love, grief, honor, and loss.

Through her poignant and beautifully told story of the Mitra family, Lahiri reminds us of some of life’s universal truths: we can never be fully removed from the historical and cultural climate which gave birth to us; the choices we make in life, even if they are made with the best of intentions, can have devastating consequences; aging consists of the slow, irreversible process of letting go; and life frequently presents us with challenges we may never fully comprehend.

Spinning Straw into Gold: What Fairy Tales Reveal About the Transformations in a Woman's Life

Joan Gould

In Spinning Straw into Gold, Joan Gould deconstructs some popular fairy tales, dividing them under the categories of Maiden, Matron, and Crone.  Gould’s study is interesting and her insights perceptive. However, woven in and out of her analyses are Gould’s continuous interjections of personal anecdotes and digressions. These interrupt the flow of her discussion and border on being irritating. In spite of that, however, the book is worth reading because Gould’s actual analysis and discussion of fairy tales is entertaining, lucid, and penetrates beneath the superficial level of the fairy tale narrative. Her analyses contain nuggets of wisdom, many of which continue to bear relevance for women today.

Ransom

David Malouf

Ransom by David Malouf is a brilliant re-telling of a pivotal moment in Homer's Iliad when Priam, the aged king of Troy, journeys to the enemy camp to offer a ransom in exchange for his son's body. What makes the event so poignant is he has to make the offer to his son's killer, Achilles. 

In his skillful and detailed portrayal of Priam, Achilles, Hecuba, and Somax, Malouf performs a masterful taks of fleshing out these characters, rendering them as fully rounded human beings. He depicts them with tenderness, compassion, empathy, and a sensitivity to detail that is mesmerizing. This remarkable novel, told in lyrical prose, touches us at the core of our humanity. It is one of the best novels I have read in a long time.

Boy, Snow, Bird

Helen Oyememi

Based on reviews I had read of Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyememi, I approached the novel ancitipating an imaginative retelling of Snow White. I was somewhat disappointed, therefore, to find little connection with that classic fairy tale. Nevertheless, the novel was well-written and engaging primarily because it illustrates the devestating impact racism and internalized racism can have on an individual's self-image and life choices.

The Kindness of Enemies

Leila Aboulela

The Kindness of Enemies by Leila Aboulela weaves two interlocking stories set approximately 150 years apart. Beginning in Scotland in 2010, one story is of Natasha Wilson (aka Hussein), a professor of mixed Sudanese and Russian heritage, torn between her two cultures and trying to define her place in the world. The second story is of Imam Shamil, a Muslim leader and member of the Naqshbandi Sufi order, who lead the resistance to Russian occupation of the Caucasus in the mid-1800s. The thread that connects both stories is Wilson’s research on Imam Shamil and her discovery that one of his descendents is a student in her class.

Aboulela skillfully weaves in and out of both narratives, taking the reader along with her at a breathtaking pace. There are twists and turns in the narrative, some of which are predictable. For me the value of the novel lies in its realistic portrayal of characters struggling to live according to their convictions and their subsequent disparagement by those who perceive reality through a different set of lenses.

Aboulela reminds us the issue of truth and justice is seldom a simple question of either this way or that. Instead, it frequently straddles between the two paths and one has only to use a different set of lenses to begin to see the possible merit of an opponent's point of view. 

The novel is well written, moves at a rapid pace, and sheds light on the challenges facing Muslims post 9/11.

Baghdad: City of Peace, City of Blood: A History in Thirteen Centuries

Justin Marozzi

Justin Marozzi’s Baghdad: City of Peace, City of Blood: A History in Thirteen Centuries is a well-researched and well-documented history of that troubled city. Written in a style that is engaging and accessible, Marozzi peppers his sentences with occasional humor and irony. He traces the decline of a city once known as the center of the world and the cradle of civilization.

Beginning with the caliph Mansur who established it as his capital in 762 C.E. and concluding in 2007 with the fall of Saddam and the aftermath of the invasion, Marozzi shows us how Baghdad lives up to the title of his book: it rotates from being a City of Peace where scholarship, culture, and the arts flourished to a City of Blood, violence, and the massive slaughter of innocents at the hands of one conquering army after another.

Marozzi does not shy away from describing some of the horrors inflicted on various segments of Baghdad’s population throughout the centuries. In chilling detail, he also narrates some of the gruesome tortures perpetrated on Iraqis by Saddam Hussein, his sons, and his henchmen.

Marozzi concludes his history on a hopeful note as expressed by a retired diplomat: “The cycle that sees Baghdad lurching between mayhem and prosperity has been long and gory, but of course we must have hope. May the City of Peace live up to its name before we ourselves depart to eternal peace.”

To paraphrase Hamlet, "'Tis a circumstance devoutly to be wished." 

Woman at the Window: Biblical Tales of Oppression and Escape

Nehama Aschkenasy

Woman at the Window: Biblical Tales of Oppression and Escape by Nehama Aschkenasy is an engaging read for anyone wanting to explore the portrayal of women in the Hebrew text.

Through close textual analysis of several events involving women, Aschkenasy illuminates the woman's role and position. She reframes the text, discussing it from the perspective of the woman whose voice has been muffled or completely silenced in the biblical narrative. By repositioning the female from the margin to the center, Aschkenasy opens the text to a wealth of interpretations that are fascinating and insightful. She gives voice to the female and speculates possible motives for her behavior and her silence. She breathes life into these otherwise nebulous women, reconstructing their lives and their personalities, thereby allowing them to materialize from the shadows of the patriarchal context in which they have been submerged.