Bookishness / Feather and Flame by Livia Blackburne

As a phoenix rises from the ashes,

And a dragon soars through the storm,

So an empress ascends.

 

It was a hot summer’s day in 1998 when my mom and I settled into our velour-covered seats, eager for the premiere of Disney’s animated Mulan. We weren’t the only Chinese Americans in the movie theater that day. Who could resist seeing the first East Asian Disney Princess in action, let alone one based on such a legendary female warrior? Yet from the first scenes with the matchmaker to the final fireworks over our new hero of China, my mom kept up a steady whisper about how un-Chinese it was. Disney’s rendition was a far cry from the Fa Mulan she had grown up with. My teenaged self, though, could relate so much to the character’s struggles with identity and belonging. Conclusion: Mulan must be American Born Chinese (ABC) like me! Not Chinese enough for some, yet different enough to stick out in the neighborhood.

Twenty-two years later, with the publication of Feather and Flame (The Queen's Council #2) by Livia Blackburne, we have a new sequel to the animated film that attempts to address some of these cultural gaps while keeping true to the Mulan many of us came to love on screen.

The story picks up a few years after the movie. Village life hasn’t slowed down our hero one iota. Mulan has built up a powerful all-female militia to protect her home region, and their success has reached the Emperor’s ears. Yet he has different ideas about Mulan’s destiny when he makes her his heir. The royal ministers aren’t happy about having a woman on the throne, though. Like vultures, they circle and taunt throughout the book, questioning whether Mulan truly has the Mandate of Heaven, the divine right to rule. 

 

Bookishness / Winterkeep by Kristin Cashore

Land of miracles
Holds dark secrets betrayed.
Hero, where are you?

It sometimes takes a single word to spark an intrigue, and in Kristin Cashore's latest book, that word is zilfium. During an age of exploration, the backward kingdom of Monsea discovers a shiny new neighbor: the eco-tech country of Winterkeep. This frosted nation is filled with airships, democracy, telepathic beasts, and more: mysteries surrounding the energy-producing zilfium, mysteries that some would kill to protect. Winterkeep (Graceling Realm Book 4) is a rather refreshing read after the disappointment that was Jane, Unlimited (2017), with the vivid world-building and intrigue that Cashore is known for. But the moments of moral preachiness and plot unbelievability distract from what is otherwise a new exploration of the Graceling Realm.

Changes for email subscribers

Looking beyond, at 50,000 feet. From my first flight since January 2020.

Hi folks,

This PSA is rather late, but for those who receive email updates from this blog, Feedburner will be discontinuing their automatic email subscription service for the Blogger platform this month. I've been considering some alternatives, so if you receive an email from me later this month from a different email service, do pay attention because you may need to resubscribe to continue receiving updates (which I certainly hope that you will!).

RSS feed readers shouldn't be affected, but watch this space regardless because I might be doing some more blog maintenance in the future.

Seriously, website and blog maintenance can sometimes be a pain, especially juggled in the midst of other pains. But this site has needed some TLC for a while, so I hope I can show it some additional care in the coming months. It's called Building Beyond, after all -- building beyond current limitations, building beyond into new things -- even including a more functional blog post delivery system.

More soon, dear readers.

emily

Bookishness / The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani

There is no looking away from injustice.
The only choice is to journey into the dark,
in the hope of bringing light. 

I'll be upfront, dear reader: I've had quite a bit of trouble writing this review. Perhaps my writing barriers are due to an excess of love because I fell into The Theft of Sunlight and want you to love it, too. So I will try to be straight-forward -- just as Rae, the no-fluff protagonist would be.

I read The Theft of Sunlight (Dauntless Path Book 2) by Intisar Khanani in a heartbeat, prior to its release in March. Just as Thorn (Dauntless Path Book 1) has the persistent Princess Alyrra as its backbone, we have Rae at the helm of Theft. I loved Alyrra's quiet strength, yet I am now thoroughly part of Team Rae. She's the older sister you wish you had in your corner, with such a fierce protectiveness for those she loves that she becomes relentless in her quest to find her best friend's missing sister and solve the mystery of the snatched. A country girl taking on kingdom-wide challenges? Rae is no mage or fae, yet she steps up to the intimidating task.

Rainbow people and golden mountains

Do not disturb. Thank you.

Recently, the Tall Man and I visited my family for our first face-to-face meet up in nearly a year and a half, which is a long time for adults but a seeming eternity for kids. I planned to bring some books for my niece and nephew -- affectionately referred to in my head (and here) as Little Peep and Big Peep. I scanned my bookshelves to assess my old favorites. Some had made the long journey from my childhood home to college, then grad school, and now would be making the full circle back. Perhaps one of them would become a Peep favorite, too!

After making my selections, I packed a box and headed off. Once we gathered together, though, all was forgotten amid the flurry of hugs and dim sum. My brother's sheepdog remained at the Tall Man's side as he petted her with one hand and ate with the other -- the ultimate in multitasking. Then I felt a wet tongue lick me from elbow to shoulder, and I jumped in my chair. It was hard to tell whether the dog had fully accepted me as part of the family, or if she just wanted a bite of my fluffy char siu bao.

It was only later, after taking refuge from the scorching sun, that the box and its contents resurfaced. I was resting in the bedroom when Little Peep brought the parcel upstairs. "Goo-Goo,"* she said, plopping the box down on the bedspread beside me, "Uncle [Tall Man] told me to ask you which book I should read."

Journeys, battles, spoons, and other metaphors

"Think of yourself as a healthy person who just happens to be sick," a doctor told me.

"I've seen many patients like you. You're ambitious and a high achiever. Find some ways to deal with stress, and you'll get better," another said.

Yet another specialist told me, "Stop telling yourself the wrong stories. Keep fighting, and you'll be back to your normal life soon."

So many medical professionals suggested how I should think in those early years of chronic illness. Yet, I struggled to formulate my own words and thoughts. At times, I literally could not speak. It took immense effort to sit up, let alone haul myself to a doctor's office on the other side of campus. I was overwhelmed by full body pain, pressing fatigue, and roiling brain fog (a state of cognitive dysfunction).

A healthy person with a side of sickness? It felt like the infection that had triggered this onslaught had already devoured my body and mind, leaving me a husk of myself.

Battle talk. Normalcy. Monsters and destruction. Language is powerful. Metaphors and stories help us understand our world and circumstances, in the hopes of recognizing ourselves and getting recognition from others. The right words can encourage empathy, assuming that a glimpse of another's experience will lead to compassion.

Great, right? The more metaphors, the merrier? Well... it's complicated.

When your computer can read your mind

 

Here's an oldie but a goodie from Jorge Cham, longtime friend and Virgil to haplessly lost grad students. Yes, I did cut this out of a printed newspaper many years ago when I first started my thesis work. Yes, I collect and keep the most random things. But this little scrap has staying power -- at least until the material itself disintegrates.

I invite you to save this image ...

... In case you need evidence that HAL is, indeed, in our immediate future.

... In case you need extra motivation to do what you need to do ... even if you already know you need to do it.

... In case you need evidence that spiraling thinking is not helpful. (Wait, it is helpful. No, it's not. I really should stop thinking about this.)

... In case you'd like to take your writing and yourself less seriously, even though it is your LIFE and you will never survive if you don't finish.

My perpetual writing reminder perched above my desk, alongside creative works by talented friends (and me, too).

#motivation #psa #computerscantalk

The necessity of letters and National Letter Writing Month

My visual letter writing log for National Letter Writing Month 2020

It's been such a heavy week, heavy month, heavy season upon season. And yet we're not meant to carry it all alone. One tradition that has sustained me in this past year is letter writing, putting pen (or pencil) to paper and mailing a hello and a paper hug. The month of April, National Letter Writing Month, supercharged my letter writing habits last year, and I'm glad it's around the corner yet again. It's a time to celebrate the connections that a handwritten word can bring, to express some gratitude, to lament together and encourage one another. Plus, it's simply delightful! Who doesn't love getting mail?

I've been a habitual letter and card writer since I was a kid. I still have boxes of correspondence from classmates and penpals (aka notes passed in class or scribbled letters) stashed away somewhere, revealing my friends' shared obsessions with Sanrio, Lisa Frank, wide ruled paper torn out of spiral notebooks, and other popular stationaries of my youth. (They also featured LOTS of stickers and exclamation!!! points!!!)

But the start of the pandemic made me long even more for connection, when a unmasked greeting or a trip to see family and friends was logistically difficult or simply not possible. So last April, I joined the Write_On campaign and wrote a letter a day -- as short as a single quote on a postcard to multi-paged letters. That daily practice me feel a little lighter and hopefully gave some light to others.

This year I plan to celebrate by write cards and letters during the month of April, whether part of an official challenge or not. Will you join me? It's not necessary to send 30 pieces of mail. The idea is to simply write and spread some joy. Plus, if you are in the U.S., we have the added bonus of supporting the postal service!

Here's a little round up of my favorite letter writing supplies and inspirations:

Bookishness / Thorn by Intisar Khanani

Read _ For the second time, right before starting The Theft of Sunlight (eek!).

A princess finds her voice,
realizing that courage is more than skin deep.

2020, what a year.

When the stay-at-home orders first clamped down last March, I wasn't able to read or do much of anything. You can probably relate. Even though I'm used to spending a lot of time at home due to remote working and the boundaries of chronic illness, it was still an abrupt halt, couched in a haze of confusion and fear. I felt displaced from my everyday life. Then I was literally displaced from my home when I went to shelter in place with my parents for a few months. It was a sweet time with my mom and dad, for sure, but it was also a hard time -- a time of exile that continues well into 2021, although I am thankfully home and reunited with the Tall Man.

Books eventually became my solace again. I read THORN by Intisar Khanani right before the chaos fully set in. Little did I know how much Alyrra's story of persistence, clawing her way out of darkness towards the light of justice and hope, would mean in those days. It became one of my favorite reads of 2020.

To the Graduates: A time capsule of life and advice

From a time when we could attend commencements in person and get sunburned. Photo by the author.

"Bloom where you're planted."

// attributed to St. Frances of Sales, Bishop of Geneva (1567-1622)

Graduation ceremonies were pretty different this year. Instead of baking under the sun or freezing in the rain, friends and family members sat in front of their computers, dressed in their caps and gowns. Their names were not mispronounced in front of their classmates and colleagues. Speeches were shorter than usual, since giving (or watching) Zoom speeches can be ... well, you know. Acting as dean, my cousin moved the tassel of his daughter’s mortarboard from one side to the other. She and many others have graduated, but this year's milestone was muted by pandemic, injustice, and unrest.

In these strange times, I offer the words of friends who, four years ago, shared glimpses of their college lives with me. For various reasons, those words had been forgotten and unread until now -- but I am so glad I rediscovered this treasure trove. Although these friends wrote during pre-pandemic times, their stories remain relevant. They spoke of uncertainty and disillusionment. They spoke of hope, and even assurance, in the midst of the expanse of life ahead of them.

Here I have included a curated portion of their responses, which are lightly edited but still speak for themselves. I only regret that, for attention span's sake, I am not able to include more of the words and stories I received. (I originally asked sixteen questions.) Some of the participants permitted me to use their first names or first initials, while others chose to remain anonymous. See the bottom of the post for some more information about them.

Whether you are in the class of 2020, the class of 2016, or are simply going through a transition, I invite you to explore this time capsule with me.

And in the time-honored tradition of graduation songs that stir up memories and nostalgia, I've included some musical accompaniment for this look to the past, in order to look forward.

Bookishness / Umbertouched by Livia Blackburne

Read _ in the midst of a move and its aftermath

When coming home brings
death and destruction ...

Brokenness is usually not an admirable trait. Neither is failure. These have been weary times, and sometimes I just want my heroines and heroes to succeed and thrive, not botch things up like I and the rest of the world do! Yet they are made more human for it. And in Umbertouched (2018), Livia Blackburne's sequel to Rosemarked (2017), I found myself repeatedly rooting for the very human Zivah and Dineas. These characters at the helm of the story are scarred, visibly and invisibly, and yet they endure in ways that make me hopeful for myself.

Bookishness / The Girl in the Tower by Katherine Arden

Greetings from a faraway land, a land that has been bereft of books ... until now. I haven't been able to write for a while, for various reasons personal and procrastination-ish, but this book has lingered in the back of my mind. Yes, I had committed to writing this review, but more importantly, I wanted to do it but I didn't get to it in a timely manner. And so I thought, "Maybe I'll reread the book to refresh my memory so I can write a proper review." Then, "I won't read any other books until I write this review."

Then life happened, health happened, and a few months later, nothing happened.

Until I decided to pick up another book and read.

I intentionally chose a book in a different genre, a lighter dose of realistic fiction to get me turning pages but that wouldn't mix too much with my memories of Vasya and medieval Russia. And it worked. I started reading without guilt, and I've now started writing bits and pieces again.

And because I have followed through in writing about a book a read several months ago, you'll know it's good.

/ / /

Read _ during the remnants of summer -- yet still, I shivered...

Political intrigue, complex relations,
and a dangerous masquerade ...

I read. Shivered. Went back to reread sections. Savored. But at some point, many months overdue, a review needs to be written.

The Girl in the Tower (Winternight #2) was a very welcome follow up to The Bear and the Nightingale, and, already, I can't wait for Vasya's story to conclude in The Winter of the Witch (forthcoming in January 2019). (Truly, does this series have to stop at 3?)

Bookishness / Thick as Thieves by Megan Whalen Turner

Read _ While planning my next adventurous escape for the summer

A daring escape through desert and mountain,

where nothing is what it seems

Two years ago, the Tall Man and I embarked on a cross-country road trip. With a new car and adventure in mind, we plotted a zigzagging route from Los Angeles to Philadelphia, connecting the dots between friend's houses, meeting relatives, and nature's wonders -- plus the odd man-made creation like the Jolly Green Giant (Blue Earth, Minnesota). Although I had visited various national parks in the past with my family, the sheer diversity in the landscape still wowed me. There was an immensity to our trek, a pilgrimage of sorts through all of America's textures and faces.

Reading Thick as Thieves, the fifth installment of The Queen's Thief series, was a little like this trip. The book focuses primarily on a journey -- a physical one across varied landscapes, but also an emotional one, charting the trajectory of a friendship, of identities, of belonging.

Late night tracks / Jean Chaumont

From a September 2016 concert with pianist Michael Bond in Hopewell, New Jersey

Recently I've been on a bit of a jazzy kick, thanks to the movie musical La La Land. My feet have been tapping ever since I left the theater. That opening scene alone is worth the watch, but the rest of the soundtrack is a great repeated listen for its splendid fusion of jazz, pop, latin, and bits in between. For better or worse, I find that Ryan Gosling's character and I have a similar taste for big band jazz. I like my horns brassy, my rhythms quick, my saxes sassy. (Fun fact: No body doubles for that pianist!)

And yet, I'm drawn to tonight's listen: a more melodic and contemplative form of the genre, courtesy of French guitarist and composer. Jean Chaumont. It's not exactly music to fall asleep to. It's no Kenny G (thank goodness -- no offense, KG). Clearly it's kept me awake. It's thoughtful, sometimes challenging, hitting me in a way I can't quite place.

Miscellanea, etc. / 17 Feb 2017

I've had a string of flare ups in the last couple weeks and have been spending more time at home than I would have hoped. Thanks to technology, though, here is a smattering of miscellanea that has kept me occupied in my couch-bound days:

/ / /

_ SCARS ARE BEAUTIFUL

Rachel Sussman, “Study for Sidewalk Kintsukuroi #01 (New Haven, Connecticut)” (via Hyperallergic)

“Cracks represent something in need of attention, and the surfaces we walk, bike, and drive over are usually overlooked until they’re in truly critical condition,” Sussman said. “By gilding them, it’s a way to see what’s around us with fresh eyes and to celebrate perseverance.”

Artist Rachel Sussman takes the Japanese tradition of kintsukuroi, repairing ceramics with gold, to the more macro scale of the floor, the sidewalk. I can't help but be drawn to her careful attention to the scars in our cities. Her work is currently part of an exhibition on gold at the Des Moines Art Center. (via Hyperallergic; emphasis my own)

Perusing Princeton / Cafe Vienna

Linzer torte and iced green tea, with a view of the sunny street

It's been a year since the Tall Man and I moved to Princeton, so it's about time I reviewed one of my go-to places in town: Cafe Vienna. I seek it out when I want a quality hot drink and a sunny space to work. They also have brunch on the weekends and breakfast throughout the week, so it's destination for many types of bites.

This is the kind of place that brings a bit of austere European charm and calm to a town satiated with tourists and "too quaint"-ness. It's on a less busy stretch of Nassau Street, between the main downtown and Hoagie Haven. The cafe has a variety of seating inside and out (high tops, regular tables, and an outdoor patio space), with a large glass front that lets in plenty of natural lighting.

Bookishness / The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

Read _ in bed, with hopes that I would awaken in a clearing of fir trees and snow

A beautiful and haunting world in which
the veil between the real and spirit realms has disappeared …

I was born in the middle of a snowstorm, so in some ways, the protagonist of The Bear and the Nightingale, Vasilisa, is a kindred spirit. She is also a youngest child with a healthy streak of contrariness – something I can relate to, for better or worse.

But that’s where the similarities end. Vasilisa – or Vasya for short – is a child of the wilderness, the fourth child of a lord in the frigid Russian hinterland. She’s impish, crafty, and gets herself into all kinds of scrapes like a typical kid. But she can also see and communicate with the spirits of the home and natural world, an ability that is both a blessing and a curse. When her stepmother and an attractive young priest campaign to cleanse the village of its demons, Vasya is thrust into the critical role of protecting and restoring the balance.

Bookishness / Mysterion: Rediscovering the Mysteries of the Christian Faith

Read _ During pockets of time throughout the day, as an e-book

I don't think anyone would disagree that life is messy. It doesn't always make sense. As much as we use our (mostly) rational minds and science to contain life's experiences in an orderly box, the next moment something spills into the unexplained. As the apostle Paul puts it in his letter to the Corinthians in the Bible: “For now we see through a mirror in darkness” – we're operating in a world that we still only know in part.

The anthology Mysterion: Rediscovering the Mysteries of the Christian Faith offers a creative approach to this partial perspective of ours, with speculations on the many unknowns within the faith. This loose theme results in a wide range of stories from both Christian and secular authors, making you ponder angels and aliens, theology and technology. Whether or not you're a spiritual person – and even if you're not typically a fan of science fiction and fantasy – this serious, humorous, and irreverent collection is worth picking up. 

Miscellanea, etc. / 01 Dec 2016

Even though Christmas music has been blasting in stores since mid- or even early November, I haven't been ready. Hearing Mariah Carey belting "All I want for Christmas is yooooooou" typically brings me delight (particularly in this context), but these days I cringe. Forget "Jingle Bell Rock." My ears are only ready for gentler seasonal music like the Nutcracker suite, or possibly Vince Guaraldi's jazzy Peanuts Christmas soundtrack. That's about it.

I'm not usually a grinch by any means, as Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year for festive and religious reasons. I've just been tired of the overflowing intensity of the news cycle and our world in general. First there was the election and the frenzy leading up to it -- now still ongoing. Then Thanksgiving whirled by, with the holiday-ness of the holiday season being thrust upon us without as much as a pause.

But perhaps December 1st and the creeping crescendo of cold weather makes it more "okay" to embrace winter and Christmas to come. I am slowly coming around to it. It feels more okay not to be "ready." Advent started this past Sunday for many Christians, and I am embracing the side of it that is about the long journey to Bethlehem.

So as a reflection of my (and perhaps your) mixed state, in this edition of miscellanea you'll find some articles about and not about the holidays:

Becoming Bostonian to Perusing Princetonia

It looks like I'm destined to live in College Town, USA -- at least for the near future. The Tall Man and I traded Cambridge, Massachusetts ("Bostonia") for Princeton, New Jersey ("Princetonia"). It's been ten months so far, and in truth, I'm still getting used to it. I miss Boston. I miss our friends and the quirky campus culture. Princeton feels stuffy and elitist -- even to an Ivy Leaguer who just came from MIT (ironic?). Here, I have to drive a car everywhere here. I mean, I have to own a car! There aren't enough sidewalks to get to my local grocery store!

Cue the urbanite meltdown...