Penguin

Are You My Guru? How Medicine, Meditation, and Madonna Saved my Life

barbara — Sat, 13 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

Are You My Guru: How Medicine, Meditation, and Madonna Saved My Life is Wendy Shanker’s follow-up to The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life. It is a hilarious and inspiring account of Shanker’s battle with Wegener’s disease, a rare autoimmune disease that results in inflammation of blood vessels in various organs. Using her love of Madonna as well as her journey in trying to find treatment in traditional and alternative forms of medicine, Shanker dangerously treads Eat Pray Love territory but ultimately gives an honest account of her journey.

The book reads like an open conversation, and I could hear Shanker telling me about her struggles to juggle a fatal disease, her weight, and her stressful work life. Rather than writing as a distant and wise survivor, Shanker writes as a relatable source, another person struggling with her own conflict. Her strength is in writing about the struggles to maintain both physical and spiritual health, and how the two correlate. Rather than reading as a self-help novel, Shanker’s work serves as a self-reflection piece, serving as a conversation piece in understanding how we define health today, particularly as it pertains to women.

While Shanker clearly states that her book is her own journey with finding peace with her condition, Are You My Guru began to resemble Eat Pray Love in some of its more contrived moments of enlightenment. While Shanker used these moments sparingly, I was still hesitant about some of the conveniently “miraculous” moments of the book. Both Gilbert and Shanker speak of random moments of clarity, or messages from God in the most tight of situations. While some of Shanker’s more convenient moments (i.e something she prays for coming true at that moment), may be true, maybe the skeptic in me believes that those moments are there more for substance. Some may read her book and try to use it as the foundation of their own treatment of their own difficulties. However, Shanker is far clearer than Gilbert in cautioning readers that this was her own journey. Her book serves as an encouragement to find a regiment that suits the reader personally. Unlike Gilbert, Shanker maintains her ability to maintain intimacy with the reader.

Though I was more skeptical of some of the more “lucky” moments, where passages were stylized for the sake of substance, these moments did appear sparingly. I think the strongest aspect of Are You My Guru is Shanker’s relentless and honest optimism. Despite the hardships that are constantly thrown at her, she never asks the reader for pity, and that strength is inspiring. Shanker also changed my view of Madonna, someone that I did not really give much thought to as a feminist icon. However, her relationship with her idol is very poignant and entertaining.

Overall, I recommend Are You My Guru. Shanker is honest, vibrant, and hilarious, and I found her story to be thought provoking and well written.

Written by: Sara Yasin, November 13th 2010

The Truth about Me: A Hijra Life Story

andrea — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Tamil by V. Geetha, A. Revathi

Penguin

What is it about the form of the life story—the autobiography—that makes it so seductive and so deeply discomfiting at the same time? I think it’s how the boundaries between private and public, someone else’s life and your own, blur in your reading. The relationship you forge is rich and colorful and insightful, but it’s also dark and violent and difficult to come to terms with.

The Truth about Me: A Hijra Life Story is the autobiography of Revathi. Revathi’s ‘truth’ is the first of such to be published in English: at once an illuminating, and a scarring read, that leaves you changed. Hijras are a community of people who are born men, but feel they are women, and so live as such. What differentiates them from eunuchs, or other trangendered/transsexual people is their culture: to be a hijra is to live in a community with other hijras, where you have a mother figure (a guru), sisters and daughters, and a tight set of rules within which you relate with them, what work you can do, how you look and behave.

The book is rich in detail and pulls you determinedly into the whirlpool of Revathi’s experiences—sometimes exciting and joyous, but more often sad and violent, physically, and emotionally abusive—a life of alienation and extreme frustration.

In The Truth about Me, Revathi leads us through her discovery of a community, experiences castration (nirvaanam—this makes her a ‘woman’—‘I felt like a flower that had just blossomed’), learns to dance and sing, becomes a beggar, performs sex work, works as an activist for a nonprofit, is stripped naked and tortured in police custody, falls in love, and more.

What is fascinating about Revathi’s way of telling, and almost painfully illuminating for the reader, is how she sets her own life – her familial relationships, her acceptance of her identity, the journey of becoming a hijra – parallel to the structures that she lives within. We see the demands and injustices that patriarchy inflicts, and its discomfort with her transgression; but on the other hand we also see the norms of the hijra community, which must be followed to be accepted into its fold. The sense one gets is of the (marginalised) self constantly struggling with something—both the mainstream and the alternatives available. She says, ‘A man sometimes has to struggle to live; but for people like me, to live was to struggle and fight…The world looks askance at me.’

While the book validates the necessity and power of a distinct hijra culture and community for a people pushed to the margins, as a slightly distanced onlooker, I felt that it falls silent on how unrelenting and inflexible this culture often seems. When Revathi interacts in the world with her hijra identity, but outside of the confines of the community, the fissures between her numerous worlds are too deep to see, the loneliness almost too cruel to read about: ‘Everyday my feelings died only to be reborn and to die again.’

Written by: Disha Mullick, November 2nd 2010

The Solitude of Prime Numbers

admin — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 08:02:00 +0000

By Paolo Giordano

Penguin

My best friend often teasingly tells me that the books I recommend to her are all too depressing and sad. I always counter that I recommend books that make me laugh. Now, that either means that I have a sick sense of humor, or it simply illustrates that the stories I most enjoy reading combine painful topics and awkward characters with humor, sarcasm, and witty writing.

Paolo Giordano’s The Solitude of Prime Numbers is exactly such a book. Giordano’s debut novel is the story of Alice and Mattia, two awkward and painfully lonely teenagers. Alice is marked by a childhood skiing accident that leaves her limping and deeply insecure about her body. In those cruel teenage years, she develops an eating disorder in an attempt to regain some control over her body. Mattia is haunted by suffocating guilt after the disappearance of his twin sister when he was nine years old. Alice and Mattia connect over their pain, their awkwardness, and their acute sense that they don’t fit in. But their bond is fragile, subtle, and built on a silent agreement that neither reveal the source of their pain to the other. Even in their connection, they remain isolated and lonely, never fully able to overcome what keeps them emotionally locked into their own worlds.

Eventually, their lives go in different directions and they separate, without ever openly communicating what they feel for each other. But despite being thousands of miles apart, neither Alice nor Mattia is willing or able to let go of their unusual bond. Reunited by a chance encounter, they are faced with a decision: to truly let the other in or return to a life without the other.

Giordano masterfully paints a world full of pain, loneliness, and love. While the humor in The Solitude of Prime Numbers is very subtle, it is there, in the background. It makes the tragedies bearable, the loneliness less hopeless. So yes, this novel is sad and depressing. But it is also incredibly powerful, and it will make you chuckle softly from time to time as you follow Alice and Mattia in their struggle to survive their childhood experiences.

Written by: Annette Przygoda, July 11th 2010

The Women's Room

admin — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 17:17:00 +0000

By Marilyn French

Penguin

Marilyn French’s The Women's Room, first published in 1977 and republished this year (a re-release ironically in the works before French’s death last May), has been touted as one of the most influential novels of the second wave of feminism. The book reads like a combination of a personal journal and a traditional novel. It is the most intense, real, and painful story I have ever read—except maybe for Elizabeth Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation, which I read when I was a clinically depressed teenager, and which made me feel a little better because I knew I wasn’t as crazy as Wurtzel. But the women in French’s novel are not crazy—they are “normal” (whatever that means) women struggling to exist with integrity in a world that systematically disparages and oppresses them—and this makes The Women's Room a lot more heartbreaking because there is no trace of an excuse to justify, so to speak, the suffering.

This is primarily the story of Mira’s life, from childhood through late adulthood between the 1950s and the 1970s, and that of her female friends. Mira is a white suburbanite in the U.S. who discovers early on the harrowing destiny she is up against simply because she is a woman—regardless of her racial and class privilege. Mira then chooses to do her best as she trudges through it, refusing to efface herself as much as she can in the process.

We think we—you and I reading this—have it hard. (And we do.) All the same, let’s remember this: we have access to the Internet, we are literate, we can easily find and contact fellow feminists for a sense of community, we are not always thought of as ridiculous and selfish for wanting to prioritize ourselves before (or refuse altogether) marriage and children, and we have the possibility to do this. This puts us ahead of, I don’t know, ninety-five percent of all women on Earth, and certainly ahead of even the most privileged, well-to-do, and educated white women in the U.S. just thirty years ago—women who were buried beneath so much systematic antagonism they had trouble breathing.

This book wounds the reader—or, it wounded me—in part because so much in it remains recognizable to even the most privileged of us today. Today. I know my mother went through comparable circumstances when she had me in Argentina in the 1980s, and even later, even in the U.S. Some of what Mira’s experiences during young adulthood happened to me too, and I remember having the very same reaction as she does despite her young adulthood and mine stretching a span of about forty years. I find this difficult to grasp and to accept: as a feminist during the third wave of feminism, I faced some things that ought to have been long gone. This makes The Women's Room relevant even today.

The intertwining stories encompass a staggering amount of women’s lives throughout numerous decades and vast territories. French also untangles precise impressions and sensations into expanded, detailed descriptions and dialogues that open the way for the reader to delve into the characters and feel for them and everyone like them. To understand intimately the minutiae of what it was like to be them, and especially Mira, in uncountable ways. French has a power few writers enjoy: she can capture half-thoughts and emotions and iron them out so that they are clear and communicable. She has amazingly put into words sensations I have had and found utterly ineffable. This book is full of little gifts like this.

The Chicago Tribune did not exaggerate when it wrote that The Women's Room is “a book you’d like to give to twenty women (and perhaps anonymously, twenty men).” I am not exaggerating either when I say that twenty or forty would be too few, and that I wish everyone I can think of at this moment would read this book with the consideration and mindfulness it completely deserves.

Written by: Natalia Real, September 9th 2009

The Little Book on Meaning: Why We Crave It, How We Create It

admin — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 09:44:00 +0000

By Laura Berman Fortgang

Penguin

The Little Book on Meaning is truly a salve of a book; it is a positive and inspiring message for anyone with questions about life—and that’s pretty much everyone, right? Laura Berman Fortgang, “personal coach” and author of several motivational books, addresses the human need for meaning in our existence and the struggle to discern what that meaning might be. Interwoven with the text are Fortgang’s own experiences as a mother, an interfaith minister, and simply, a person.

Fortgang tackles life’s meaning in five sections. “Mystery” explores the unknown, sacred aspects of life, and how we “live in the question marks.” Section two, “Minister,” discusses the relationships between humans and their inherent meaning, which Berman Fortgang says “always comes back to love.” “Magnificence” covers the feeling of awe in everyday life, of looking deeper and seeing the world with an eye for beauty. In “Mind,” Berman Fortgang talks about the power of our minds for both positive and negative, and retraining them to help us achieve a more meaningful life. The final section, “Mystic,” is about walking “the line of worldly sanity and mysticism,” of opening oneself to enlightenment and experiences with a higher power. Fortgang posits that the future of belief is a Modern Mysticism—an accessible path for everyone to a connection with the something larger than ourselves. Sounds pretty “woo-woo,” as Fortgang would put it, but she makes you believe it’s true, or at least acknowledge that it could be.

The joyful thing about reading the work of an interfaith minister is its inclusivity. Fortgang mentions various religions and belief systems throughout the text, everything from atheism to Sufism, with equal respect and openness. And she is not just open-minded about religion, which is really the genius of the book’s appeal. Fortgang’s sincerity and genuine feeling shine through all five sections brightly, and lend it an intriguing depth not that will keep you thinking long past bedtime.

Written by: Jennifer Wedemeier, June 21st 2009

Lessons from the Fat-o-sphere: Quit Dieting and Declare a Truce with your Body

admin — Tue, 19 May 2009 17:05:00 +0000

By Kate Harding, Marianne Kirby

Penguin

Quit dieting and declare a truce with your body. This seemingly straight-forward proposition functions as the springboard from which authors Kate Harding and Marianne Kirby jump into a discussion of what it means to accept one's self and how to dismantle the countless negative and judgmental messages we receive and propagate on the daily. As two of the leading bloggers in the "fatosphere"—the online fat acceptance movement—Harding and Kirby tackle issues of dieting, fat stereotypes, self-deprecation, female acrimony, socializing and much more, all from the fat perspective.

How does denigrating fatness eat away at our own self worth? Are derogatory slights against fatness and fat people considered more socially acceptable than, say, racist or sexist stereotypes? How often do we participate in diet talk (instead of meaningful conversation) in order to "bond" with other women? Lessons from the Fat-o-sphere compels readers to ask themselves these essential questions. We are challenged to examine our assumptions about fatness, and urged to reimagine a way of life founded upon self-realization and fulfillment rather than participation in an endless struggle to achieve the happiness and beauty depicted in the mass media.

There's no question that Lessons from the Fat-o-sphere is a part of the blog-to-book phenomenon. Unbound by traditional rules of grammar, formality and structure, the authors take on an informal style, making liberal use of chummy, sarcastic and intimate prose. Though I'd argue this writing style helps break down the wall between author and reader, establishing an inimitable camaraderie and trust, it also detracts from the book's authority. Time-honored writing methods can be helpful in establishing one's credibility and expertise.

At times, Harding and Kirby shortchange their arguments by over-simplifying complex issues or inserting insensitive and insulting asides. What begins as founded and constructive guidance, might end with a misguided attempt at pseudo-psychological counsel. Also problematic are the persistent contradictions that appear in the book. I was particularly disappointed with the first chapter of the "Socializing" section, entitled "Find a Good Partner." Though the authors acknowledge that "single" isn't synonymous with "unlovable," they suggest time and again that being in a committed relationship is a helpful, if not essential, step toward loving your body and your self. Unlike Kirby and Harding who write that "Life isn't fair; if it were, we'd all be in love right now," many readers might find happiness and fulfillment outside the realm of monogamy.

Yet, despite these shortcomings, Harding and Kirby get the job done. They offer a window into the fat experience and give voice to opinions and perspectives that have long been silenced. They urge us to stop thinking about our bodies as "The Enemy" and encourage practicing "Health At Every Size." They remind us that "the best we can be is not exclusively determined by physical measures," even though we've grown up believing that "our bodies [are] primarily something for other people to experience externally." Importantly, they encourage us to stop judging other women and be our own best friends. That's advice everyone should heed.

Written by: Sofia Marin, May 19th 2009

The Means of Reproduction: Sex, Power, and the Future of the World

admin — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 11:41:00 +0000

By Michelle Goldberg

Penguin

In The Means of Reproduction: Sex, Power, and the Future of the World, author and investigative journalist Michelle Goldberg uses her abilities to uncover the truth about the reproductive rights (and lack thereof) for women around the world. As we grow into a global community, the politics of sex, child bearing, and child rearing are monumental issues that are overlooked for the convenience of those in power. This book explores the reality of the situation, including many real life accounts of the struggles faced by women in countries that span four continents.

Chapter one begins with a heartbreaking tale of the first victim of an abortion ban in Nicaragua. The country deemed that abortion in any form was illegal. Jazmina Bojorge began suffering a miscarriage and due to fear of legal repercussions the doctors, against their better judgment, gave her medicine to stop the labor because helping her with the miscarriage—that is, terminating the pregnancy—would have been illegal. The delay in action caused her to die. If the doctors could have performed medical assistance in ways that are associated with abortions, it would have saved Jazmina’s life.

The book goes into great detail about the various issues that surround women’s rights and the laws and culture that repress them. Topics include contraception, pregnancy and childbirth, AIDS, female circumcision, abortion, sex-selective abortion, rape, and the role of women in society. The political stances of both the Left and the Right are dissected with suggestions of what should be done and how women can stand strong together to fight against the torment we collectively endure.

The Means of Reproduction is a hard hitting read. Goldberg opens the eyes of the reader to the unjust treatment of women due to reproduction. Feminist activists will be motivated to take stronger action after reading this book. Anyone else will be hit with the realization that they can no longer choose to be ignorant. The facts are stacked up, and it’s time to take action.

This review is cross-posted on Girl w/ Pen.

Written by: Sarah Eve Nichols-Fulghum, March 23rd 2009

This Crazy Vegan Life: A Prescription for an Endangered Species

admin — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 17:37:00 +0000

By Christina Pirello

Penguin

I love meat. I love cheese. I love all things animal, and I've always believed that these foods are part of a healthy, balanced diet. I couldn't imagine becoming vegan, giving up all animal products completely. Veganism seemed like a quick road to malnutrition (how could you possibly get enough protein and calcium?), boredom (spinach again?), and overall weirdness. ("I'll have the soyburger with soy ketchup on a soy bun with soy fries.") Fortunately, Christina Pirello's This Crazy Vegan Life challenges all of these perceptions and shows how choosing a vegan lifestyle can improve health, energy, and wellness.

The author begins by briefly sharing her powerful personal testimony; adopting a vegan lifestyle led to her recovery from a terminal form of leukemia. In addition, veganism has helped her to lose weight and feel better about her impact on the planet. Her energetic, passionate voice and real-life stories and advice make this book practical and engaging from cover to cover.

The initial chapters are devoted to educating the reader, providing information on food and culture throughout history. The author presents startling statistics about the origin of foods we eat and the impact of these foods on our health, and shows how choosing healthy non-animal foods will benefit the reader and the planet. Veganism begins to sound not only appealing, but also intelligent, practical, and delicious.

Common misperceptions about veganism are dispelled clearly and simply. For example, many people believe that eating a vegan diet is too expensive. The author points out that a pound of veal costs $7.99-$8.99, while a pound of tofu is just $1.49 and a pound of carrots is about $.89. It's hard to argue with that!

After reading the first chapters, most people will be ready to give veganism a try. Fortunately, the author anticipated this, and included several very complete chapters about how to make the transition to the vegan lifestyle. She explains basic nutritional principles, such as different types of carbohydrates and fats, and how these work with a vegan diet. Readers learn how to make sure they're getting proper nutrition, and why seeking this nutrition through non-animal foods is healthier and safer than what most Americans are exposing themselves to through conventional foods.

Lists of foods to stock in your pantry and refrigerator are included, along with a twenty-one-day menu plan. Over 100 recipes for delicious dishes (even desserts!) will help the new vegan approach meal preparation with confidence and know-how. A chapter on exercise provides an illustrated resistance band workout and ideas for other forms of healthy movement.

By the end of This Crazy Vegan Life, I was chomping at the bit to try some new recipes and give up animal products in my diet. Thanks to Christina Pirello, I'm on my way to a healthier, more natural, more energetic life.

Written by: Amanda Moss, February 20th 2009

Four Queens: The Provencal Sisters Who Ruled Europe

admin — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 17:31:00 +0000

By Nancy Goldstone

Penguin

Let me start out by saying that I am not a fan of non-fiction books. Seriously, the only things I read that can be categorized as historical are also categorized under romance. I expected this book to be like the ones I had to read for history classes in college: boring and never ending. It wasn’t an experience I was looking forward to. So imagine my surprise when I started reading and found that not only was the book interesting, it was so compelling that I literally could not put it down. I loved this book. I would even go as far as to say that it’s one of the best books I’ve read all year, and coming from someone who does not like non-fiction, that’s saying a lot.

Four Queens is the true story of four sisters from Provence who came to rule England, France, Germany, and Sicily during the 13th century. The subject matter is fascinating. Page after page is filled with royal marriages, secret alliances, crusades, wars, rebellions, and betrayals. This is the stuff that award-winning television miniseries are made of. The cast of characters is like something out of a soap opera.

There’s Marguerite, the eldest daughter, who must adapt to married life with her husband, the pious King Louis of France, while sidestepping his controlling mother, Blanche of Castille; Eleanor, married to the impulsive King Henry of England and determined to step out of her older sister’s shadow; Sanchia, as meek as she is beautiful, wed to Henry’s charismatic brother Richard; and Beatrice, young and spoiled and perfectly matched with Louis’s power hungry younger brother Charles.

While the events of the book are interesting in their own right, it is really the wit and charm that Goldstone injects into her writing that makes this novel a page turner. Her style is reminiscent of that favorite teacher you had in school, the one who could make the lecture fun and exciting while still presenting you with all the important facts and dates.

History tends to overlook women for the most part and it was refreshing and inspiring to read about four women who were so influential in a time when women’s rights were unheard of. If nothing else, the book proves one point: While French men may have a reputation for being weak, French women have always kicked ass!

Written by: Victoria Kroeger, June 14th 2008