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.

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."

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.

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.

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. 

Bookishness / The Bone Sparrow by Zana Fraillon

Read _ mostly at night before bed, on Kindle

To say this book is just about a kid growing up in a refugee camp wouldn't do it justice. It wouldn't do justice to Subhi, his family, nor the real families behind this story. Nor would it do justice to the seemingly simple yet lyrical way in which it was written. It's a book that surprises and delights, while not shying away from the harsh realities of our times.

Midnight Thief released into the wild

I finally have my hands on Midnight Thief, the debut young adult fantasy novel by friend and fellow MIT-er Livia Blackburne.  Whoever thinks scientists are just buttoned-up folks with pocket protectors and taped glasses will think twice after reading her book.  I'm itching to start it, but told myself to finish the novel I'm already reading (Delicious! by Ruth Reichl) and let the Tall Man take a shot first.  Sighs.

Until then, I'll revel in the cool cover art and try not to read too many book reviews (although I've already slipped up on the latter - oh well).  And I'll try to figure out what typefaces are used in the book (always a good challenge).

Oh, and I'll look forward to the book signing event in Boston at the end of the month.  If anyone else is in the area, do come along!  It will be held Thursday July 24th at 7pm at Porter Square Books, one of the city's cozy independent bookstores.

Humble thyself

Although I usually don't believe in these "n-step" programs (5 ways to improve your health, 10 steps to freedom, etc.), I found the excerpt below on humility to make me stop and think about my worst habits and how to not be so me-centric:

"The best recipe for humility I know of was put together by a dear friend whom I deeply respect. … It suggests that besides waiting for God to act in our lives, we need to commit ourselves to stop doing three things:

1. We need to stop pretending to be what we know we are not. At some point in our growing-up years we make the powerful discovery that we can manipulate the truth about ourselves in order to look good. … If we feel inadequate, we can pretend to be self-sufficient. If we are sad, we can put on a happy face. If life is falling apart, we can look as if we have everything together. Giving up these attempts at pretending puts our feet firmly on the path toward a truer humility. 
2. We need to stop presuming that we are more important than other people. One way in which we can do this is by disciplining ourselves to serve others quietly, without applause. … 
3. We need to stop pushing our will onto others. In Step Three we looked at our deep-seated instinct to be controlling and to play the part of God ourselves. We often tend to do this in our close relationships. Think of how we try to straighten out others, fix them with our solutions, or get them to do what we want them to do. It can be quite humbling to realize that only God actually knows what is best for those around us. The best that we can do, most of the time, is just to be there for them, to listen to what they are going through, and perhaps to ask some questions that could help them know what to do next."

// Trevor Hudson, from One Day at a Time

Gratitude ... of sorts

 “Thank you, first sheet of a new toilet paper roll that won’t tear off evenly so I have to scratch and claw and shred three layers of the roll just to get the thing started. But that’s cool. I think I’ll have the last laugh, since I know where you’re ending up."

From "Thank You Notes" by Jimmy Fallon, recently published and quoted in the NYTimes

Maybe it IS easy to write a book after all ...

Summer reading list

from two summers ago, a lovely retreat to an urban beach

"The best summer reading I did in the past was in 1993 — I was working my butt off at a Chinese restaurant in Tuscaloosa, Ala., but I stole some time to read Ezra Pound, Emily Dickinson and William Faulkner on the greasy kitchen floor. Literature had never been tastier."

- Yunte Huang,
author of Charlie Chan: The Untold Story of the Honorable Detective
and His Rendezvous with American History

This great quote, from a compilation of authors' summer reading reflections, really encapsulates my attitude towards summer reading.  Although I don't always enjoy it with greasy Chinese food, the tastiness of words when you have the luxury of time to enjoy them is a sensation that I really miss during the hectic semester.

I haven't yet put together my own list of summer reads yet, although I imagine it may include some travel narratives, catching up on a peppering of blogs, Haitian Creole lessons, a beta read of a friend's new fantasy novel, maybe some foodie Michael Pollan or brainy Oliver Sachs... and/or countless selections from the many books on my shelf here at home that I've picked up over the years at library and sidewalk book sales but have yet to read.  (That last category will likely take me several summers to get through.  The plight of a loose-fingered reader who perpetually feels sorry for 'orphaned' books.)

What's on your summer reading list?

Reading underground

A clip from the article's illustration, by Peter Arkle

The NYTimes publishes a whimsical and lovely way to illustrate commuters' book reviews.

Makes me truly thankful that, now that I'm on break, I can actually read for fun!  What a joyful concept, full of possibilities...  Any recommendations or favorites?

Seeing the brains behind it all

by Carl Schoonover via the NYTimes

In our FAST class, we've been talking quite a bit about neuroscience and visualizations of brain activity as of late.  Tod pointed us towards this book called Portraits of the Mind, which was recently reviewed in the NYTimes.  It is a history and collection of brain visualizations, revealing both the beauty and wonder of our own hardwiring.

Sort of makes me want to be a neuroscientist... but I'll settle for having friends who are and for thinking of installations that creatively use this imagery.

Rent-a...body?

 The cover of the UK edition, which I like for its whimsical nature more than its American counterpart.

The other day, I was joking with Marcus (aka "the tall one") about the prospect of his "rent-a-tall-guy" job scheme, in which he would leverage his almost 6'-4" frame to reach the highest shelves or move things for average-to-short heighted people.  He then suggested that I have a similar "rent-a-small-person" side job, which seemed inane but... hey, I have been asked to crawl in small, tight spaces (mostly related to tunneling at Columbia...), so why didn't I just charge for those services?

Kidding aside, these conversations made me realize that, in some ways, these "rent -a-___" models are innocuous ways of renting out the capacity of your body to do something.  Here in normal law-abiding society (if you can even call it that), it means being a handyman or doing a simple service.  But what if it's unwilling rental?  And what if you're asked to do something you otherwise would never have dreamed you would be subjected to by another human being?

These questions had come up for me during what seems to be an innocent book report assignment.  For my D-Lab Schools class (aka the Cambodia class), I read Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn's new book entitled Half the Sky.  Based on the Pulitzer-prize winning journalist couple's extensive travels and reporting, HtS looks at the many inequalities experienced by women in developing countries and, through giving voice to the personal stories of women they've met along the way, proposing various ways to improve their livelihoods and - essentially - change the world as we know it, “emancipat[ing] women and fight[ing] global poverty by unlocking women’s power as economic catalysts” (pg. xxii).

Lofty goal?  Perhaps so.  The NYTimes book reviewer also calls out the book's undisguised desire to “ 'recruit' the reader to join a worldwide movement to end these abuses."  This focus on women - also called "the girl effect" or "the double X solution" - reverses some societies' previously male-dominant biases by showcasing how education in particular for women can lead to delayed marriage, decreased child bearing, increased skills that can finance a family's further education, open up doors for employment and empowerment, and generally create financial independence.  Whew.

What was quite interesting to me was that these traits are all incredibly communal.  Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea, is quoted by saying this oft-repeated African proverb, "You educate a boy, and you’re educating an individual. You educate a girl, and you’re educating an entire village." Now, what is it that supposedly makes women so much more familial and outreaching than men?  This fact upon which most of these claims and much of the book are based wasn't exactly addressed.  Is it because of inherent female traits like empathy?  Because of the act of childbearing, the very direct connections with children and family members?  I'm actually not sure (maybe someone else can shed some more light on this), but this begs the question, what if we asked the question, if we were all instilled with such a strong sense of community, would we all then have the capacity to serve one another and transform society equally, regardless of gender?

After reading the book, I was both heart-wrenched by the harrowing atrocities of sex trafficking, forced suicide, and intentional medical deprivation (among other abuses), but convinced that something could be done to change these current situations.  Another Kristof article showcases "DIY foreign aid" and social entrepreneurs who start off small but end up having a large impact on the communities they serve.  What is the motivation, though?  Humanitarian work could be another topic/blog post all together, but motivation is a tricky thing to pinpoint.  To be good and help others?  But in whose image are these people made?

I can't help but think about Acts 2 and the early Church's whole-hearted devotion to one another and to those overlooked in society (women, widows, orphans).  Is this not a portrait of a life-altering reality, recognizing that each other is a unique individual made in the image of the Creator Himself?

In any rate, the book is a good one and highly recommended, although it's not for the faint of heart - or faint of resolve to make a contribution outside of our own narrow perspectives.

Revealing through raindrops

Photo by Tarsem Saini, via Desi Comments

While reading about Oliver Sachs' new book The Mind's Eye and perusing some of his research / articles, I came across the story of John Hull, who recorded his experiences and reflections as he lost his vision and then while living as a newly blinded person.  I read an excerpt from this collection entitled Touching the Rock, and his description of rain and what that means is incredibly poignant ... never thought of it in that way.  Perhaps my own senses, even as a completely able-bodied person, need honing to hear nature's concealed symphony.

One particular passage :

I hear the rain pattering on the roof above me, dripping down the walls to my left and right, splashing from the drainpipe at ground level on my left, while further over to the left there is a lighter patch as the rain falls almost inaudibly upon a large leafy shrub. On the right, it is drumming, with a deeper, steadier sound upon the lawn. I can even make out the contours of the lawn, which rises to the right in a little hill. The sound of the rain is different and shapes out the curvature for me. ... Over the whole thing, like light falling upon a landscape is the gentle background patter gathered up into one continuous murmur of rain.

I think that this experience of opening the door on a rainy garden must be similar to that which a sighted person feels when opening the curtains and seeing the world outside. Usually, when I open my front door, there are various broken sounds spread across a nothingness. I know that when I take the next step I will encounter the path, and that to the right my shoe will meet the lawn. ...  I know all these things are there but I know them from memory. ... The rain presents the fullness of an entire situation all at once, not merely remembered, not in anticipation, but actually and now...

If only rain could fall inside a room, it would help me to understand where things are in that room, to give a sense of being in the room, instead of just sitting on a chair.

This is an experience of great beauty. I feel as if the world, which is veiled until I touch it, has suddenly disclosed itself to me. I feel ! that the rain is gracious, that it has granted a gift to me, the gift of the world...

from RAIN 9 September 1983, in Touching the Rock
(italics are my own)

Story time

On reading aloud :

This, or something like it, is what happens when you get caught up in a book. You hear it in your head, and it takes over your waking existence a little, so you can’t wait to be done with whatever you’re doing and immerse yourself in the pages again. ...

Listening is how we begin our acquaintance with books, as our parents read them to us, and listening may be how we phase out of books as well; it’s easier, hypnotic almost, and allows you to do something else at the same time: drive, jog or attend to your e-mail. ...

Our reading and listening imaginations do much the same thing. Reading in bed, riding the subway with the iPod plugged in, driving the car and feeding CDs into the dashboard slot, we’re not transported from this life to another, exactly, but to a sort of halfway realm. We’re partly in East Egg, or wherever, and partly still in that cluttered mental office, where the phone rings — literally sometimes. We look out the window and see, oops, that we’ve just missed our subway stop or, worse, that a state trooper has just pulled alongside and he has his lights flashing.

from Charles McGrath's NYTimes review of "Gatz," based on The Great Gatsby

It's been a long time since someone has read a novel aloud to me, although it's a commonplace activity when it comes to church or Bible study and we read collectively read Scripture.  Somehow it's different, though, to have actual "story time."  Jim Dale, who narrates all of the Harry Potter books, is a superb example of a great reader, voices and all.  There's part nostalgia mixed in with theatrics and immersion - and yes, even some laziness of the brain, as McGrath mentions in his article.

Someone reading aloud does carry a different weight than reading on your own, although I would argue that it's not just about your own ability to concentrate on what's being said, but has equal parts to do with your building relationship with that particular book and your relationship with the narrator.  I don't ever recall my parents reading to me, but when I've read to children or attended public readings by authors, there's a sense of intangible connection between the words you speak, your voice, and the ear that listens.

Hm, I wouldn't mind a bedtime story now and again.