Category: Culture (Page 6 of 8)

The Defining Decade

According to clinical psychologist, Meg Jay, the “defining decade” is your twenties. In her new book by the same title, Jay does her best to expel the now socially accepted theory that “thirty is the new twenty.” Having worked with hundreds of twentysomethings in her practice over the past ten years, Jay weaves together personal stories of her clients with findings of other psychologists, sociologists, neurologists, reproductive specialists, human resources executives and economists. From the introduction:

Our cultural attitude toward the twenties is something like good old American irrational exuberance. Twenty-first-century twentysomethings have grown up alongside the dot-com craze, the supersize years, the housing bubble, and the Wall Street boom… [a]dults of all ages let what psychologists call “unrealistic optimism”-the idea that nothing bad will ever happen to you-overtake logic and reason. Adults of all backgrounds failed to do the math. Now twentysomethings have been set up to be another bubble ready to burst.

Being a twentysomething myself, I’m not sure if I buy into the assumption that I am a “bubble ready to burst,” but I can certainly empathize with the notion that twentysomethings are set up to be “too big to fail” and then get lost in the endless possibilities of being young and having everything ahead of them.

Jay sets the book up in three sections- “Work,” “Love,”  and “The Brain and the Body.” The first two sections on Work and Love contain individual accounts of twentysomethings who met with Jay after seeking counseling for each respective subject area of their lives. The third section on “The Brain and the Body” actually explains the neuroscience of the twentysomething brain and its physical development:

By the time we reach our twenties, the brain has gotten as big as it is going to be, but it is still refining is network of connections. Communication in the brain takes place at the level of the neuron, and the brain is made up of about one hundred billion of these, each of which can make thousands of different connections. Speed and efficiency are paramount and are the hard-won result of two critical periods of growth.

The two critical periods of growth occur in the first eighteen months of life and then again in our twenties (which is a fact I was completely unaware of.) Jay concludes the book with sound advice for making a timeline and “Doing the Math” about the reality of future prospects for a twentysomething. Time is a concept that a lot of twentysomethings do not realize has a huge impact on their later lives, and Jay has written a sound work of non-fiction that drives this point home without being too preachy or condescending. I recommend this book for any upcoming college graduates you may know who could use an easy-to-read book of advice for the future.

The Defining Decade by Meg Jay, Ph.D  (Twelve Press, 2012)

by Anna

Science Ink

Dear Listener,

I recently stumbled into a book club with my coworker Ellis.  Although we are still waiting to discuss it, we both read Outer Dark by Cormac McCarthy.  Every time I read Cormac McCarthy I go into a non-fiction marathon.  After reading any book by Cormac McCarthy, I can’t really stomach fiction for a while.  It is after reading McCarthy when I read culture books and science books and history books.  I began by ordering a book about time travel and a book about fascism.  As I waited I pushed through John Jeremiah Sullivan’s Pulphead.  (You can see Anna’s blog on Pulphead here.)  It was then I stumbled upon the recent book by science writer Carl Zimmer called Science Ink.  The synopsis on the back cover is such:

In 2007, writer Carl Zimmer began noticing that more and more scientists were sporting science tattoos.  Fascinated, he reached out via his blog, “The Loom,” and began to receive a steady stream of tattoo images, along with compelling personal stories about the designs.  In Science Ink, Zimmer has collected more than 300 of these thought-provoking tattoos.  Expanding on the stories of each one, he deftly explores the science behind the ink and reveals the passions and obsessions of science lovers around the world.

I think my interests in the book have changed.  I first opened it up to flip through it, curious of the tattoos. In that sitting, I just scanned the tattoos, which are all incredibly interesting.  It was my second trip through the book that really grabbed my interest.  I realized that most of these people are brilliant.  With tattoos.  Not vagrants or criminals, but scientists.  What is more interesting is how Zimmer “expands on the stories.”  While reading through it, he is actually covering hundreds of subjects that relate to science and mathematics.  Here is an example from one of my favorites:

Ben Ewen-Campen, a graduate student in evolutionary biology at Harvard, sports a “DNA ladder.”  The ladder is produced by electrophoresis, a technique used to analyze DNA molecules.  The tattoo is made with black-light-sensetive ink, glowing in the ultraviolet just like real DNA in some electrophoresis kits.  “The fact that it looks like a barcode from a futuristic dystopic society is an accident,” he writes.

Most of the tattoos are creatively beautiful.  Even without color, they are so interesting, they are still beautiful.  A  tattoo of fulvic acid is another one of my favorites:

I got this tattoo as an homage to the pain of my graduate work,” writes Corey Ptak.  “It’s a model of fulvic acid, which is a representation of natural organic matter in the soil.  I work with this molecule for my grad work, and I figured I might as well get it etched into my skin so I can look at it and say, ‘Well, ate least it hurt less that grad school at Cornell.'”

A tattoo of a dodo belongs to Cecilia Hennsessy who is working on her Ph.D. in wildlife population genetics.  The H2O molecule belongs to Jerry O’Rourke measures and predicts stream flow.  Dirac’s equation belongs to Melinda Soares who studied physics at the University of California, Ssanta Cruz.  Anastasia Gonchar is getting her Ph.D. in chemical physics at the Fritz Haber Institute of the Max Planck Society in Germany, and she has a tattoo of pi orbitals.  It seems like every entry is like this.  Some of the science is very advanced, but much like tattoos, Zimmer holds no pretension.

Whether you consider every person with a tattoo a vagrant or a criminal, maybe they’re just a scientist.  Or a doctor.

by Simon

The Lifespan of a Fact

Sometimes you pick up books and immediately grasp the idea. I picked up this book and started reading because I couldn’t figure out what it was about. It takes a bit of explanation, but it’s worth it.

The Lifespan of a Fact begins with this note, copied from an internal memo at a magazine, concerning a story submitted for publication by John D’Agata. A story, it’s worth mentioning, that had already been rejected by one magazine because of concerns over factual inaccuracies.

From the Editor:

I’ve got a fun assignment for somebody. We just received a new piece from John D’Agata that needs to be fact-checked, thoroughly. Apparently he’s taken some liberties, which he’s admitted to, but I want to know to what extent. So whoever’s up for it will need to comb through this, marking anything and everything that you can confirm as true, as well as whatever you think is questionable. I’ll buy you a pack of red pens if necessary.

Thanks!

What seemed to be a fairly straightforward assignment became a seven year dialogue between author John D’Agata and fact-checker Jim Fingal. D’Agata’s story is picked apart line by line, each claim put on trial by Fingal with D’Agata defending his choices. The center of each page features the original story, and then around the margins the messages from D’Agata and Fingal are arranged in black text (to indicate confirmed statements) and red text (to indicate statements disputed by Fingal).

Some concerns have been raised over the last few years how publishers fact-check books; the James Frey (Million Little Pieces) and Greg Mortenson (Three Cups of Tea) scandals come to mind. The Lifespan of a Fact offers an inside look at this process, but I think it may do more than that as well. It’s not just a practical discussion between author and fact-checker over verifying sources; it seems to be almost a debate on the nature of nonfiction, a battle whose front line is the demarcation between fact and fiction.

Uncommon Grounds by Mark Pendergrast

Uncommon Grounds: The History of Coffee and How It Transformed Our World by Mark Pendergrast

(Basic Books, 2010)

Have you ever wondered how humans first discovered that coffee was a really good thing? It all came about with the help of some goats. Folklore has it that an Ethiopian goat herder named Kaldi noticed his goats becoming very frisky and dancing about after they ate some berries. Kaldi followed their example and was hooked.

Since its publication in 1999, Mark Pendergrast’s Uncommon Grounds has been recognized as the definitive history of coffee. As a result, the book, released in its 2nd edition in 2010, has spawned many more books, documentaries and research on the social, environmental and economic impact of coffee.

While giving the reader a history of the production, trade and consumption of coffee, Pendergrast sheds light on issues of colonization, slavery, health scares, the branding of coffee, fair trade coffee, and environmental impact. An epic story full of colorful characters, illustrative anecdotes and quotations laid out in a friendly and engaging way, it’s a book to savor with your favorite “cuppa joe.”

Return of the Pulphead

Back in early November, John Jeremiah Sullivan stopped by the store to sign and read from his recently published Pulphead: Essays. I had received an email from my mother  earlier that day saying please snag her a copy to be signed at the event because she had worked with Mr. Sullivan at the Oxford American when the magazine was still actually based out of Oxford, Mississippi. As I thumbed through the essays before the event, I knew I would be buying two copies of the book – one for my mom and one for myself.

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Mr. Sullivan covers a range of topics, including his time living with an elderly southern author at the University of the South, coverage of a Christian Rock festival and time spent at a shelter on the Gulf Coast immediately following Hurricane Katrina – all of which are thoroughly researched and well-written, making them very much worth reading.

This recent review of Pulphead, which appeared in The New Yorker in December compares Mr. Sullivan to Tom Wolfe or David Foster Wallace, noting that “he is kinder than the former, and less neurotic than the latter.”

So, if you are a fan of the essay, or maybe just want to read some well-researched, insightful writing on various topics, give Pulphead: Essays a try.

The Chucks (Part 2)

Dear Listener,

With the Chuck Palahniuk event just around the corner (October 20, don’t forget!), I wanted to discuss what CP means to me. When I was thirteen or fourteen, I started reading Palahniuk.  I started with Choke, continued with Fight Club, moved on to Lullaby, found Survivor, and finished Invisible Monsters.  As a teenage boy, I became simply engrossed with the intricacies to which Palahniuk goes to utterly disgust his reader.  I loved being thoroughly shocked by the last five pages of the book.  Nothing made me happier than finishing  a book and immediately starting from the beginning to try to piece together what exactly it was that had just happened.  As I grew older, I started reading classics, and was unable to keep up with Palahniuk’s quick production of novels.  At some point in that regression of obsession, I picked up his 2007 novel Rant.  That is when everything changed.

Along with most men of my generation, time travel, to me, is a revered philosophical discussion.  Granted there is never a right answer, only illogical logic, I can have a conversation about time travel for hours and hours.  When you consider the different types of time travel (i.e. Back to the Future Time Travel, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure Time Travel, Terminator Time Travel, etc.), and the paradoxes that ensue through those types, the discussion can become complex and heated.  In Chuck Klosterman‘s most recent book of essays Eating The Dinosaur (2009) there is an essay that deals entirely with time travel in pop culture.  (And if you think about it, time travel really wouldn’t exist without pop culture, right?)  In this essay (titled “Tomorrow Rarely Knows”) Klosterman covers several classic works like H. G. Wells’ The Time Machine, Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, and a 1733 novel by Irishman Samuel Madden called Memoirs of the Twentieth Century.  

He goes on to discuss the 2004 movie Primer, which looks at time travel from a very realistic standpoint. (i.e. the inventors are actually engineers, they use the machine to make money, there is technical mathematical jargon in the dialogue, etc.)  He also discusses several time travel paradoxes.  At this point in the essay Klosterman actually mentions our hero Palahniuk in reference to Rant.  Klosterman writes:

“In his fictional oral history Rant, author Chuck Palahniuk refers to the Godfather Paradox as this: ‘The idea that if one could travel backward in time, one could kill one’s own ancestor, eliminating the possibility said time traveler would ever be born — and thus could never have lived to travel back to commit the murder.’  The solution to this paradox (according to Palahniuk) is the theory of splintered alternative realities, where all possible trajectories happen autonomously and simultaneously.”

Even after reading Rant more than a dozen times, there are still facts and thoughts that pop into my head.  Every read through the book shines light on a different hypothesis on who the characters are.  Several of the characters may or may not exist as one person who has allegedly (maybe) killed several of his relatives and infected the entire world with some sort of un-treatable rabies.  In Rant, these kinds of events may or may not take place, but they are definitely told through the eyes of his friends and colleagues.  As mentioned earlier, the entire book is written as a fictional oral history.  Rarely do I pick up Palahniuk anymore, unless it is Rant.

If you want to hear more about time travel, here is an excerpt from a footnote from Klosterman’s essay:

“Before [Michael J.] Fox plays ‘Johnny B. Goode’ at the high school dance [in the 1985 movie Back to the Future], he tells his audience, ‘This is an oldie… well, this is an oldie from where I come from.’  Chuck Berry recorded ‘Johnny B. Goode’ in 1958.  Back to the Future was made in 1985, so the gap is twenty-seven years. ”

Klosterman goes on to explain that no one would refer to Back to the Future as an oldie today, even though the time spanned is very nearly the same.  He points out that “as culture accelerates, the distance between historical events feels smaller.  This, I suppose, is society’s own version of time travel.”

In this scene from Back to the Future, Chuck Berry’s cousin Marvin Berry calls him to give him an example of the “new sound he’s been looking for.”  If this happened, and Chuck Berry stole his own song from Marty McFly, who wrote “Johnny B. Goode”?

For The Chucks, Part 1, click here.

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by Simon

The Chucks (Part 1)

Dear Listener, When I was a freshman in high school, my cousin and I traded books.  He gave me Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture ManifIesto (2003) by Chuck Klosterman.  In return I gave him my treasured (and personally annotated) copy of Choke (2001) by Chuck Palahniuk.

DIGRESSION: Unfortunately this blog isn’t going to focus on Chuck Palahniuk, even though we have an awesome event featuring Palahniuk on October 20, 2011. (which if you’re reading this blog you should already know about)  Please don’t fret, though!  This is actually the first of a two part blog in which Palahniuk and Klosterman’s writings somehow coincided with each other at a pivotal time in my reading career.  Part one is going to focus on Chuck Klosterman.  Part two will focus on Chuck Palahniuk, and will appear within the next two weeks. END OF DIGRESSION
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At this time in my life I had just begun to really understand what made reading a more conceptual form of entertainment than watching television/playing video games.  That is not to say, however, that I did not watch my fair share of television/play my fair share of video games.  That is precisely what made Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffsso enthralling: I was READING criticisms on what I had already WATCHED.  He also analyzed whole chunks of pop culture that I had no idea even needed analyzing.  As a counter-culture kind of kid, I ate it up.  I’ve enjoyed it so much I’ve consistently read everything that Klosterman has released.
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Needless to say, I was pretty excited when I heard he was going to release his first complete work of fiction Downtown Owl in 2008.  That year I received it for Christmas, after many wishes.  I was done with the book before Boxing Day (December 26) could strike.
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Having been a Palahniuk fan, I felt like I saw through Klosterman’s plot.  I wasn’t disappointed, but I was a little disappointed.  I loved it, but was unimpressed.  I wanted it to be better.  I wanted it to be more complex.  It was Klosterman’s writing, but I wanted it to be Palahniuk’s.
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After I had been working at Lemuria for a month or so, I found out Joe had an advanced reading copy of Klosterman’s newest work of fiction The Visible Man.  No matter how much I wanted Klosterman’s fiction to reflect more intrigue like Palahniuk’s, it doesn’t mean I love Klosterman’s writing any less.  I was excited to read this book.  I finished it within two nights.  It was absolutely fascinating.  It made me realize how his fiction writing still plays on the same themes as his nonfiction writing has in the past several years: the technology age, voyeurism, honesty.
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This song by Widowspeak from their self titled album released earlier this year captures the emotional theme of The Visible Man: There is something hazy about the plot the reader knows.  But just because it is hazy, or inaudible, doesn’t mean it doesn’t still exist.  The singer’s voice from Widowspeak may not be easy to understand, but to me that does not detract from the beauty of it.  And much like The Visible Man if you listen hard enough you may be able to make out what is happening right before the jig is up.
by Simon

Jerry Mitchell’s Review of Karl Marlantes’ What It Is Like to Go to War

Many of you may have attended the May 2010 event for Karl Marlantes’ first book, Matterhorn. It was a memorable night but it seemed to me that we would never be so lucky to see Karl again. I had the pleasure and honor of taking him to the Eudora Welty house and about town. I also thought that Matterhorn would be Karl’s only book, but much to everyone’s delight he has given us this fall. I have found his new book profoundly moving, and I think this is a book we should all read.

I enjoyed reading Jerry Mitchell’s great write-up for Karl’s book and would like to share this quote with you:

Gunnery Sgt. Terence D’Alesandro, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, said publicly that Marlantes “is the absolute master of taking the psyche of the combat veteran and translating it into words that the civilian or non-veteran can understand. I have read many, many books on war, and this is the first time that I’ve ever read exactly what the combat veteran thinks and feels. Nothing I have ever read before has hit home in my heart like this book.”

Please read the full article in The Clarion Ledger.

Join us this evening for a signing at 5:00 and reading to follow at 5:30.

Click here for more information about What It Is Like to Go to War.

How might we better prepare our soldiers for war?

“Mellas stood beneath the gray monsoon clouds on the narrow strip of cleared ground between the edge of the jungle and the relative safety of the perimeter wire.”

With these words Karl Marlantes began his amazingly powerful novel about the Vietnam War, Matterhorn. The first step to becoming, as Sebastian Junger says, “the preeminent literary voice on war of our generation“, and in no way were we left unsatisfied. Matterhorn quickly became a bestseller, hundreds – many of them vets themselves – commented on our blog about Matterhorn (here) and we had a wonderful evening with Karl at Lemuria books. Then, back in the winter, we discovered that there was more – Karl has written his non-fiction/extended essay – with the title that says it all – What Its Is Like to Got to War.

There have been many reviews of What It Is Like to Go to War, but none of them do the book any justice. LISTEN: this book is so good, so well balanced, so exactly what we need to understand about war. The reviews haven’t done justice because a review never could. This book is about what it was like for Karl – as an individual – to go to war and what it has been like for him to have been someone who went to war.

As Karl says, “All conscientious citizens and especially those with the power to make policy will be better prepared to make decisions about committing young people to combat if they know what they are about to ask them.

Please don’t miss this chance to meet Karl Marlantes on Wednesday, October 5th for a signing and reading from What It Is Like to Got to War at 5:00 and 5:30.

Worm

I mentioned to John the other day that I was planning on blogging about Mark Bowden’s new book, Worm, and he told me that there was a review of it in the Wall Street Journal. John brought me the review and I read it. I was immediately conflicted. The review was…well, it wasn’t good. I began questioning my own judgment. The reviewer raised some valid concerns, not just minor annoyances, but problems at the very heart of the book. Could I still in good conscience write a positive recommendation for the book? Worse yet, would I be identifying myself as a numb and uncritical reader if I did?

It bothered me for a while, right up until I sat down to read and realized that, bad review or no, I found myself wanting to pick the book back up and finish it. Not out of duty, or as a challenge, or even out of spite — just because I had been enjoying it, and I wanted to continue the story. And really, that was enough.

So let’s just address some of the concerns. Yes, the book is about the spread of the Conficker computer virus (or, more appropriately, worm), and the efforts of a small team of computer security experts to defeat it. Yes, that is, to put it mildly, a rather nerdy topic for a serious book. And while Bowden does an admirable job of explaining the long-reaching consequences of such a potentially-damaging worm, he can’t quite escape the fact that he’s writing about security loopholes in Microsoft Windows and lines of code, instead of Army Rangers and Blackhawk helicopters.

The bigger issue to me, however, is that the Conficker worm just isn’t the best story available in computer warfare. Two years after the Conficker worm was discovered, a worm that became known as Stuxnet infected computers in the Iranian nuclear program, eventually sabotaging and damaging some 1000 enrichment centrifuges. I can’t help but wonder if Mark Bowden, already committed to his book and deep into his research, swore under his breath when the Stuxnet story broke.

The decision he faced in his research and writing is really the same decision we face in reading, I think. Somebody may write a book about the Stuxnet worm in the next few years. And it may be a perfectly readable book or even a great book. But we don’t have that book yet. What we do have is a very good book by Mark Bowden, one that covers a legitimately interesting story, and that features some excellent writing. I figure that if someone can point out all the flaws in a book, can list them out and discuss them in great detail, and at the end of it, I still pick the book up and enjoy what I’m reading, then there’s no reason to get worked up over a bad review. Just read and enjoy.

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