Kelly Moritz

Skinny Bitch Ultimate Everyday Cookbook: Crazy Delicious Recipes That are Good to the Earth and Great for Your Bod

beth — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Assuming you’ve never heard of Skinny Bitch and its burgeoning franchise, here’s a quick primer. A diet book, marketed as a tough love, no-nonsense takedown of women who whine about their diets and think there is nothing they can do to change their bodies, ambushes its readers with a surprise crash course on the evils of eating animal products, meant to shock women into choosing a vegan diet.

Now, original co-author Kim Barnouin presents Skinny Bitch Ultimate Everyday Cookbook: Crazy Delicious Recipes That are Good to the Earth and Great for Your Bod. On the cover, awash in bright, earthy colors, the author leans happily over a huge spread of actual food, smiling, positively un-bitchy, and ready to dig in with us. In short, nothing resembling the original franchise, to its benefit. I’m sure the brand drives sales and creates buzz but this cookbook seemed a welcome departure from the cold-hearted bullying and fat-shaming of the first. Why persist with a title that doesn’t seem to reflect the values of the book? I get it, though—Smart and Sassy Person Who Cares About Where Her Food Comes From and What Goes in Her Body Who is Also Vegan and Might be Thin Because of These Factors just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Let’s get to the good stuff, the fake meat and organic sweet potatoes! I’ll be the first to declare cooking vegan to be tricky. Not hard, and certainly not impossible, but for the average person in the average town with the average grocery store and average amount of free time… tricky. Especially for someone just getting her sea legs on the Good Ship Vegan, clarity of instruction, organization, helpful tips, and accessible ingredients are key. Pretty pictures help, too. Many recipes were illustrated with gorgeous full-page color photos, visually enticing and definitely influential in my test kitchen menu planning process. Most of the ingredients were fairly easy to locate at my neighborhood grocery store, but for the wilier ingredient outlaws, dropping extra dough at Whole Foods was the only option.

A rundown of the recipes we chose to make reveals mixed results. The Pasta, Navy Bean, and Spinach Soup was truly nourishing and delicious and I hope someone makes it for me the next time I’m sick in bed. On the flip side, the Cream of Cauliflower Soup was watery and lacking flavor, and as a meal, left me running to the cupboard for a snack an hour later. Following the instructions to the letter on the Masoor Daal (Split Red Lentils) produced a solid block of dried out lentils at the bottom of the pan, but so deliciously spiced was the block that we carved out chunks to eat with Cholay and Aaloo (Chickpeas and Potatoes). The Curried Chickpea cakes were the hands-down favorite for flavor, texture, and surprising ease of assembly. The Lentil Tacos with Fresh Salsa were a bland let-down (who knew tacos could taste bad?), but the Lentil Seitan Sloppy Joes were a yummy hit, a breeze to put together, and a fun, meatless take on a childhood favorite. Finally came the “big one,” my personal Moby Dick, the Asian Macaroni and Cheese, which took over an hour to prepare before it even hit the oven, and left us with anticlimactic plates of white on white cauliflower, tofu, and elbow macaroni, tepidly “Asian”-flavor, and markedly lacking “cheesiness.”

That was our recipe round up, and if you’re reading this then chances are you want to know if you should buy this cookbook. While I’ll be keeping a handful of recipes in rotation, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it with out a boatload of caveats, exceptions, and disclaimers. The recipes on the whole just didn’t yield results that felt worth the time, effort, or cost of extraneous ingredients, particularly those brand names that are suspiciously endorsed throughout the book.

A vegan diet and way of living doesn’t need a gimmick to make it appealing, and it doesn’t need to be dumbed-down, glammed-up, and packaged as an easily digestible weight loss tool. Ultimately, it’s too hard to gauge what the real goal of this cookbook is, and what our goals should be in reading it and eating by it; should we want to be skinny above all, or want to save the environment, or be healthy, or make food we enjoy preparing and eating the most? There are better vegan cookbooks on the market, and there are better weight-loss cookbooks, and I’d love to chat about how to find them and hear your own recommendations. In attempting to keep multiple balls in the air, Skinny Bitch Ultimate Everyday Cookbook spreads itself too thin. It is possible to “have it all,” but you don’t need this cookbook to get there.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, March 2nd 2011

Orion You Came and You Took All My Marbles

brittany — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

By Kira Henehan

Milkweed Editions

Orion You Came and You Took All My Marbles follows Finley, an investigator of sorts, as she fumbles her way through her latest mission and attempts to capture it all down on paper.

Though committed to its accuracy, the report is at times rambling, then repetitive, then self-edited to the extreme; in other words, not an easy read. Finley dives in to her assignment with no clear idea of what she’s meant to find, and with all the earnest desire for answers as a warped, post-modern Nancy Drew.

But this is no Nancy Drew mystery; there is no neatly wrapped up answer, no “aha” moment, no mask yanked off to reveal, “It was Old Man Whittaker all along!” Instead Finley peels away mask after mask with no progress made, never forward, only circular or even back the way she came. Through her take on the girl detective and her exploits, Kira Henehan attempts to color the classic noir with experimental, modern, often disjointed and disorienting writing, an unraveling ball of yarn playfully taking on the tightly-knit genre.

On assignment, Finley is thrust into the strange domestic world of a professor and his puppets, who exist behind a curtain in a miniature world that has a pulse and life force all its own. Her goal, as investigator, remains unclear throughout. When we meet Finley—and the hapless crew to which she is tied—they are maneuvering their way around a gray, barren, and gravel-strewn milieu. For all they know or share about their former lives, they could have been born yesterday, thrust upon this futuristic landscape with all the powers of speech and deduction and human emotions, but no remembrance or mention of a past. And yet faint threads do stitch them together in ways not yet fully understood. The twist of an ending forces Finley to question who the true puppet master is, and who among them may have been all along puppets themselves, dangling from his strings.

The remaining mash up of self-discovery, kitsch vintage surfing memorabilia, competition, potential romance, bowling, duplicity and shrimps fell flat. I wanted to be on board with this novel. I tried to appreciate every syntactical nuance or repetition to unlock the deeper meaning behind the prose. I wanted a juicy mystery, even if the style was too thoroughly “modern” for its own good.

But all told, I was left with an empty feeling in my stomach that a good book can usually fill. While this novel was interesting at times to wander the foreign landscape with Finley as she tries to solve puzzles both personal and professional, Orion You Came and You Took All My Marbles just didn’t scratch my itch for a story, the way any self-respecting mystery should.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, September 9th 2010

Steam

admin — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 16:57:00 +0000

Directed by Kyle Schickner

Wolfe

Steam is not a complicated film, in spite of the pseudo-complicated lives of its characters. It traces the trajectories of three female characters for a short while, seeming to span roughly six months, give or take a season. Laurie (Ally Sheedy), a divorced and bitter single mother; Doris (Ruby Dee), an elderly recent widow; and Elizabeth (Kate Siegel), a college student with a burgeoning lesbian sexual identity are brought together by chance to a sweaty respite: the steam room of their local health club.

Strangers to one another at first, they come to share small pieces of themselves as they bask in the heat, for those moments free to drop their burdens at the door and let their troubles pour out of them with their sweat. They are expunged, cleansed, baptized by the steam. The second time this flat visual metaphor is used, we were tired of it. By the fifteenth time, we were just plain annoyed. Steam from a sewer grate as Laurie shares what may be the first kiss since her divorce; steam from a bubbling pot as Doris prepares dinner for the new man in her life; steam from her cold breath mingling with her date’s lazy cigarette smoke as Elizabeth meets up with Niala (Reshma Shetty) on their first night together. Replace steam with a bottle of wine or a vibrator and Schickner may have been onto something more poetic.

Outside the steam room, we go deeper into each woman’s personal life through rotating vignettes that follow a predictable pattern. First we meet the characters as they are: disempowered and just existing, without agency. Things seem to improve for each for each of them, then quickly become much worse in sync, until each woman comes back around to find herself again at a new equilibrium. Ready to face the next challenge, they will overcome with their newly acquired storybook feminist outlook. The film narrowly imagines what a woman’s “drama” can be like, offering only tropes in the place of true complexity. To follow one character only and really develop her, or to condense the full length into a short piece would have generated the tension Schickner tries to create with overly broad strokes. The film should be driven by its narrative, but this contrived narrative is weak and can’t live up to its own expectations fully.

Steam puts forth some strong messages by way of its women: queer, sex-positive, and age-positive themes that are always welcome and so often lacking from today’s big budget blockbusters. Chelsea Handler holds what’s left of the film together by a thread with her bit supporting role, providing comic relief as the wise-cracking counterpart to Sheedy’s self-deprecating Laurie. Steam is like a sauna, nice at first but if you stay in too long you might start to get prickly and irritated, or just really tired.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, Nic Vetter, October 18th 2009

Shea Butter Lotion Fruit Slices / Goats Milk Glycerin Soap Orange Sherbet

admin — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 09:00:00 +0000

By Norma’s Bath and Body Products

When you unwrap a package made, wrapped, and tied by another person’s hands, it’s immediately evident. It might be a splatter of color where there wasn’t one intended, or a crooked label, a smudge. But whatever the indication, it has always given me a moment’s pause and endeared me in a special way to whatever it is I’m holding. So it was with Norma’s Bath and Body Products—a sense of the person who’d put something of herself into making the thing I was about to enjoy. You just don’t get that fuzzy feeling in the health and beauty section of your local chain drug store!

The Orange Sherbet Goats Milk Glycerin Soap was instantly appealing with its peachy orange color and smooth texture. I resisted my generations-old instinct when confronted with nice bath products, to set it unmarked and perfect in a bowl with some potpourri or decorative stones. I reminded myself I had a job to do and not to worry—I could order more! Unwrapped and sitting out on my desk, waiting to get lathered up for the first time, this little bar got my attention with a subtly persistent fruity scent, fresh and light and not at all overpowering or irritating to my allergen-sensitive nose.

The package promised a “creamy and high lathering goats milk glycerin soap” that would both soften and moisturize. I, no stranger to the wares of a farmer’s market or craft fair soap stand, was skeptical. The glycerin soaps I’ve tried have been low to nonexistent on suds and thin in texture, leaving my skin neither moisturized nor particularly clean. The Orange Sherbet soap knocked all contenders out of the ring. Bubbly and rich, it smoothed out my skin but washed off without any filmy residue. The scent was light and pretty, not lingering for long, just long enough to make you come back for more.

The Fruit Slices Shea Butter Lotion punched up the color and scent factors of its demure companion Orange Sherbet. Bright notes of citrus came bursting out of the lemon yellow lotion, one of those good smells that give you a little mind-freshening kick when you need it, a fresh-squeezed smell. The lotion itself had the look and texture of a thick acrylic paint, and rubbed onto my skin in a thin yellow layer. It turned colorless after a few swipes with my fingers and left behind the faintest bit of shimmer. My skin felt soft but not greasy, and the lotion absorbed quickly enough to resume daily activities without leaving fruity smudges on everything I touched.

Norma’s Bath and Body Products scored high with me, with bonus points for being homemade, and extra super bonus points for working just as well, if not better, than a major manufacturer’s product. A sweep of Norma’s online store inventory was delightful, chock full of soap creations: cupcakes, fudgesicles, Pop Tarts, as well as plenty of options for those with a less demanding sweet tooth. These handcrafted soaps and lotions are as whimsical and cute as they are functional, and gave me plenty of fun and frugal gift ideas.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, August 15th 2009

Chiconomics 101: The Fun, Fabulous Girls’ Guide to Making Smart Money Moves

admin — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 08:15:00 +0000

By Debbie DiVito

Chiconomics 101 is a pink-themed, Cosmo-drinking ladies-geared blog about basic money management seemingly written by and for the twenty-something set of singles with less money to burn now that they have “real world” bills to pay. The blog bubbles with ideas perhaps not so novel or inventive for folks remotely experienced in the pinching of pennies—brown bagging lunch instead of eating out, visiting the local library instead of the local Barnes & Noble, making coffee instead of dropping dollars on store-bought lattes—but ultimately, from this feminist’s perspective, fizzles and falls flat.

Alongside standard tips for everyday things a “fun, fabulous girl” can do to save a few bucks, the blog also offers more substantial advice The tips are mostly geared toward someone thinking about these things for the first time; she could find some good starting pointers and helpful links to get started towards a financial goal. These posts were genuinely interesting, informative, and pertinent to some aspect of my current financial life. I learned what FICO stands for, what I could do to improve my credit score, and some solid alternatives to a basic savings account. I read comments from other women in my age group who also do their own taxes, along with some straightforward and helpful tips for how to be successful in, what most of us agree, is an overwhelming process.

It wasn’t the information I objected to—the information was great, if basic or limited at times—it was the delivery that was hard to stomach. There are dozens of other “Finance for Women” blogs out there, even of the “101” Introductory variety, that do it better—more sound advice, tips for saving, investment strategies—without the cloyingly fabulous “chiconomic” lingo exclusively employed on this blog.

Money-talk doesn’t have to sound like a Cosmo article to become magically appealing to women. Each concept need not be accompanied by a grating metaphor meant to bring it down to “our” level—(hetero)sex, high school cliques, cocktails, pop music, dieting, more sex. Here’s a fabulous thought: A women’s finance blog with straightforward advice, no gimmicks, no “girl talk,” no gratuitous comparisons, acknowledging the fact that many women do not get the financial education they need and deserve to make the most of what they earn. Chiconomics doesn’t stack up.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, June 19th 2009

Cream Bird Pouch

admin — Sun, 31 May 2009 17:16:00 +0000

By The Wren Design

Designs of the avian persuasion are undeniably ubiquitous on the fashion scene today. From quirky sparrows and stylized blackbirds to elegant peacocks and vintage-y pheasants, flighty, feathered friends can be found everywhere from jewelry to body art, stationary to head gear, and more. Now from The Wren Design comes the whimsical and functional Cream Bird Pouch*.

The Bird Pouch is hand-crafted in a pretty textured cream colored linen, embossed with a faint paisley pattern. The fabric has a rustic feel, like a well-loved burlap sack made more delicate by time and use. The design of the Pouch itself is rudimentary, made of three main pieces: body, wing and tail. The simplicity of the shape is what gives this Pouch the necessary dose of charm. Should you choose to get interactive with your Bird Pouch, the wing has full “flap” capabilities (shadow puppets, anyone?) and the tail is looped to function as a wristlet. The Pouch is detailed with a zipper, lining and hand-stitched bird’s eye, all in coordinating pale lavender.

Sweet as it may be, don’t expect this little birdie to be your go-to, carry-all bag. Clocking in at approximately 5.5 inches wide by 3.5 inches tall, the Bird Pouch can realistically hold several credit cards or bills, a smaller-sized cell phone, loose change, or a few cosmetics—but not all at once! The wristlet tail will keep your hands free, and the tiny dimensions will force you to pack light, perfect for cruising the shops, or a casual night out. In a veritable flock of bird accessories, the Cream Bird Pouch earns its place in the pecking order with hand-crafted charm and folk art appeal.

The picture is of the Strawberry Picker Bird Pouch, which is the same design as the Cream Bird Pouch, though a different fabric color and print.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, May 31st 2009

Body Panic: Gender, Health, and the Selling of Fitness

admin — Tue, 26 May 2009 00:21:00 +0000

By Shari L. Dworkin, Faye Linda Wachs

New York University Press

Much has been made of representations of bodies, women’s bodies especially, in the media; this terrain is heavily traversed, particularly in feminist discourse. Magazines can be particularly insidious culprits of spreading rigid body doctrines, and for this they have been criticized and pulled apart in many ways. What makes Body Panic: Gender, Health, and the Selling of Fitness different is that Shari L. Dworkin and Faye Linda Wachs are relentless in their pursuit of a comprehensive, empirical study of the ways in which both women’s and men’s bodies are represented in mainstream fitness magazines.

Smiling and posing from the racks as mainstream America waits in line at the grocery store, male and female fitness models shine as beacons of wellness. Oiled, buffed, flexed, but above all sexy, these men and women represent a promise of a better life within the covers. Fitness magazines preach a doctrine no less rigid or demanding than the imperatives of the fashion industry to be thin or the cosmetic industry to be beautiful; however, they do so behind the shield of “health” that so often keeps them from harsher criticism. Dworkin and Wachs dismantle the concept of “healthism” in Body Panic, exposing the ways in which the fitness industry packages and sells a narrow and constrictive version of wellness as a one-size-fits-all prescription to happiness, sex appeal, a long life, and more.

If one only works hard enough, and wants it badly enough, the magazines preach, dreams of “health” and “fitness” can be realized. Based on gender, however, one’s goals should be different. Dworkin and Wachs examined a cross-section of mainstream magazines for both men and women over a span of about ten years, and used a detailed rubric to break down the differences and similarities between them, particularly the cover photographs. The discrepancies, while not surprising, are nonetheless indicative of the unequal ways women’s and men’s bodies are displayed and consumed.

Body Panic takes a fresh look at the diet and exercise industries; Dworkin and Wachs show us that no one, woman or man, young or old, is safe from the pervasiveness and influence of these powerful money-making machines. By no means suggesting that individuals ignore or disregard their “health,” they rather implore us to be critical of media sources we consume, particularly when it comes to our bodies. It is no surprise that the diet and exercise industries consistently make top dollar in the United States—by creating morally superior imperatives and edicts of fitness, and by repackaging the health of our bodies into something that can be bought, these industries ensure that their customers will continue to chase, and pay for, through money or social capital, the health ideal they have fabricated. An ideal so strictly policed is always worth dissecting, and Shari L. Dworkin and Faye Linda Wachs have done this in top form in Body Panic.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, May 25th 2009

Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale

admin — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 22:51:00 +0000

By Chris Ayres

Grove Press

Maybe the current economic meltdown the world-over has got me down, but I found Chris Ayres’ Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale a hard pill to swallow. Could it be that the time for cautionary tales has long passed? Every other fiction new release, it seems, touches upon environmental disaster, or endless war, or the disaster wrought by people living en masse beyond their means; this book touches upon all three. While the topics may be more relevant than ever now, Ayres would have done well to take a fresher approach if he wished to stand out from the ever-growing crowd of heralds trumpeting in the End Times.

Ayres paints a picture of Los Angeles through the eyes of an English transplant who is both repelled and possessed by the culture of consumption. The city is smothered in smog and mind-numbingly hot temperatures, while its inhabitants live out their lives blissfully unaware, drifting from air-conditioned apartments to air-conditioned cars. His L.A. is grit, sweat, anxiety, neuroses, and desperation, glossed over with a barely-there sheen of glamour and luxury.

Particularly in his romantic pursuits, Ayres exhibits a calculated level of self-deprecation and apathy. Sent to L.A. as a journalist and correspondent for a British newspaper, Ayres daily life is structured by assignments and demands from The Beast on the other end of the telephone line. It becomes clear that whatever journalistic zeal he arrived with, Ayres has lost. Rather, he uses his credentials to score access to exclusive parties, to which he invites women he hopes to woo. Ayres is no fool; he can see the writing on the wall, and the writing spells certain destruction, environmentally and financially. It’s his refusal to act outside of his own needs, in spite of this knowledge, that remains his least endearing quality throughout the book.

The real estate bubble of the United States is stretched to its limits, poised to burst, nowhere more obviously than in Los Angeles. Yet Ayres wheels and deals with reckless abandon to finagle a “piggy back” mortgage while the getting’s still good that will land him in a multi-million dollar home he has no prayer of affording. Reader, bear in mind, the protagonist has been hawking furniture on CraigsList to pay the rent on his apartment. Toxic assets, sub-prime mortgages, financial acrobatics—oh, what a twisted web, and all that. His high jinks couldn’t be more timely, or infuriating.

Yet, under the guise of a jaded Los Angeles satire, there are grains of wisdom to be found in Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale. When there is nothing left to be done, get the whole mess down on paper and don’t take yourself too seriously. Find someone to make a home with and try to be happy. Wean yourself off the things you don’t need. Have a baby, even if you’re not sure this is a world you want to bring a child into. That mess you got down on paper, however sarcastic or seemingly apathetic, might start to mean something. It may not be too late for that cautionary tale.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, April 29th 2009

Wannabes, Goths, and Christians: The Boundaries of Sex, Style, and Status

admin — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 10:12:00 +0000

By Amy C. Wilkins

University of Chicago Press

Labels—freak, geek, wigger, poser, prep, to name just a few—are plentiful and ever-expanding, flourishing in the fertile social grounds of high school and college. Often, labels are used against individuals, assigned and branded as tools of marginalization and preservation of social hierarchies. Amy C. Wilkins' Wannabes, Goths, and Christians: The Boundaries of Sex, Style, and Status is a sociological text that explores the ways labels can rather be symbols of resistance, or attempted empowerment, for three distinct subcultures coexisting in an insulated but diverse cross-section of a Northeastern college region.

Wannabes, Goths, and Christians is about the ways in which three groups of young adults in the United States test, push, and break the boundaries of an identity that paradoxically remains largely invisible, yet overwhelmingly dominant: "Whiteness." The self-described “freaks” of Goth, the members of a Christian organization at a large university, and the Puerto Rican "wannabes" are each given their due in a book that creates connections between seemingly disparate groups. Even those readers who are not sociologists by study or trade will appreciate the candor and perception with which Wilkins writes about the subjects of the book, as well as her forward-thinking analysis surrounding the important, but often overlooked, intersections of race, class, and gender within these predominantly white communities.

To write it, Wilkins engaged in countless interviews; some were formally conducted and others were casual conversations, not only with the subjects themselves, but also with their more mainstream peers, whose reactions and opinions spoke volumes about the way the strategic separation from the norm of Goths, Christians and wannabes elicits often volatile emotions from those who wish they would "act like what they are."

As much as possible, Wilkins tried to assimilate into these countercultures, whether by sexing up her appearance in black lace and dramatic Goth makeup, or by gelling her hair back and drawing on dark lip-liner to achieve the stereotypically Puerto Rican look of the wannabe. With her transformations complete, she would hit specifically geared club nights with her new tutors, subjects who had agreed, sometimes hesitantly, to take her under their wings and show her the ropes. Unexpectedly, the group that, of the three, prides itself most on kindness and goodwill was the hardest group to penetrate; Wilkins writes that although the University Unity Christians allowed her to attend meetings and agreed to speak with her in interviews, they were reserved, hesitant to open up, and never fully accepted her as an insider.

Wilkins effectively digs to the core of how subcultures are formed and fostered, particularly among young, white, middle-class people. In the United States, where society at large collectively fails to acknowledge the way white youth experience a broad spectrum of race, class, and gender, "whiteness" amounts to a lack of culture, in an environment that equates culture with "cool." In unique ways, the subjects of Wannabes, Goths, and Christians are eschewing what they see as a bland and narrow path of lack, in favor of a performed, chosen identity that may open up new alternatives to the umbrella of white identity. Wilkins insightful, fresh, sociologically focused portraits are much more than character studies, and the text is much more than tired "don’t judge a book by its cover" platitudes about today’s youth.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, April 25th 2009

The Private Lives of Pippa Lee

admin — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 12:00:00 +0000

By Rebecca Miller

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

What molding and stretching is required of a woman who chooses to better the quality of life of others over her own? Perhaps this type of self-sacrifice cannot be fathomed from the outside in. To be the devoted wife, the doting mother, the gracious hostess, the caring friend—where and when does she find the time to find herself?

Within in her sharply defined world, Pippa Lee is everything to everyone who matters to her—to Herb, her husband thirty years her senior and a prominent publisher; to her grown children, twins; and to a small circle of friends, New York writers and artists. She has no visible past or plans for the future. Ever adaptable, Pippa sees only placid days spent catering to Herb as they live out the golden years of their marriage in the Marigold Village retirement community.

When Pippa wakes up to find that she has been tearing through the kitchen, smearing food around the dining room, picking up smoking again, and even driving to the convenience store all while fast sleep, her sure footing in life begins to falter. The destabilization of her environment and her youthful isolation in a sea of retirees lead her to revisit defining moments from her previous life, before Herb and their seemingly perfect marriage.

What begins as a one-dimensional character study of the archetypal Mother/Wife figure transforms into a richly drawn portrait of a complex, often complicated life. When the unexpected throws Pippa off her increasingly shaky track, she is set loose from the existence she had trained herself to relish; in that moment, her character vibrates with newfound vitality and possibility, and the story itself is elevated to a new level of being. Through intimately detailed and poignant vignettes from Pippa’s past and surprising twists from her present, Rebecca Miller constructs a deftly layered and moving novel of a woman’s journey to herself. The Private Lives of Pippa Lee is a subtly and emotionally crafted read for anyone who has ever wondered, “How did I get here? And where do I go now?”

Written by: Kelly Moritz, November 28th 2008

Pin-Up Grrrls: Feminism, Sexuality, Popular Culture

admin — Wed, 27 Dec 2006 13:32:00 +0000

By Maria Elena Buszek

Duke University Press

No cheap thrills here: Maria Elena Buszek’s Pin-Up Grrrls is a welcome departure from the usual pin-up fare. As the author explains in her introduction to the book, "[T]he pin-up seems an excellent place to track the history of both heated disagreements and remarkable similarities within and between feminist generations precisely because of its longevity, prominence, and mixed meanings in pop culture since the rise of the feminist movement."

Popular rags like Playboy and Maxim have long foregone the subtly provocative pin-up in favor of raunchier, in-your-face sex. But as an image that has inspired countless others, the pin-up is appeal is pervasive and remains culturally relevant. The social climate we live in today has witnessed the commodification of sex escalate to never-before-seen level of frenzy. In this light, Pin-Up Grrrls is a breath of crisp, fresh air. While sexed-up female bodies are splashed across any available surface (television screens, magazines, billboards) to sell everything from sports cars to yogurt to shaving cream, Buszek takes a long, hard look at the evolution of the pin-up. This book is no superficial analysis; it becomes clear over the length of the book that the author has done her homework in a successful effort to look at the pin-up from all angles, historically, socially and artistically.

As a feminist critique of a cultural phenomenon, Pin-Up Grrrls couldn’t be better. Gone are the coy stockings and cherry pouts of pin-up past, leaving in their wake range of mutations and condemnations, imitations and exaggerations, each of which can be found in this book alongside a sharp analysis and interesting history. Don’t let the title fool you; the density and subject matter of this book are not for the faint of heart. If you’re looking for a few dirty pictures, grab a Maxim at the gas station. If, however, you’re looking for an insightful and thorough exploration of a popular sexual phenomenon researched and written by a smart woman and focused through a feminist lens, this book just might be your wet dream come true.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, December 27th 2006

Chick Lit: The New Woman's Fiction

admin — Tue, 05 Dec 2006 12:36:00 +0000

Edited by Suzanne Ferriss, Mallory Young

Routledge

You’ve seen it. Unmistakably pink, highly stylized and adorned with images of contemporary (glamorized) femininity – martini glasses, stilettos and Prada handbags. If you’ve stepped foot inside a chain bookstore in the past five years or so, you’ve seen chick lit in all its glory, usually grouped in a flashy eye-catching bunch near the front of the store. Hailed by some as “the new woman’s fiction,” the phenomenon known as chick lit is storming North America, the UK and beyond. Its escalating popularity among the twenty-something, (semi) professional female set is sparking much debate about its place in the literary marketplace. Chick Lit: The New Woman’s Fiction is a collection of essays that attempts to delve to the core of this question, and does so successfully.

Suzanne Ferriss and Mallory Young have put together a book that effectively gets beyond the brand names, witty banter and loveably disastrous gals that characterize chick lit, in order to explore the more meaningful intersections of gender, class, race and size that are present in this genre. Whether these issues are merely a byproduct of the narrative or explored intentionally remains questionable. Chick lit, on the surface, hardly begs to be taken seriously. What does need to be taken seriously is the economic industry that has sprung up around the genre due to its immense popularity with women of a certain socio-economic status. Chick Lit explores the causes and effects of this popularity and its implications for the publishing industry. In addition, this collection of essays diversifies what chick lit has come to mean, exploring various sub-genres – mommy lit, sistah lit, chick lit Jr, and nanny lit, to name some. This diversification shows the evolution of chick lit from exclusively white and middle- to upper-class to a wider audience.

Although these essays provide fresh and compelling insight into this “new woman’s fiction,” the central question remains unanswered and open to discussion: ultimately, what value does chick lit hold, socially, economically and culturally? While it has been dismissed as pointless froth about frivolous topics like shopping and boyfriends, one has to wonder whether chick lit is automatically devalued because of its “women’s fiction” label. Didn’t Nathaniel Hawthorne delegitimize the writing women of his own time, “the damned mob of scribbling women?” Included in this damned mob is author Jane Austen, whose novel Pride and Prejudice has direct connections with Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones’ Diary, widely taken to be the mother of all chick lit. This book represents an excellent segway into serious discussion about the chick lit craze in a literary, historical and sociological context. Chick Lit: The New Woman’s Fiction is a must-read for chick lit’s most rabid fans and critics alike.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, December 5th 2006

Lady of the Palace

admin — Thu, 23 Nov 2006 18:46:00 +0000

By Samir Habchi

Arab Film Distribution

To hear it told by those who were there, Nazira Joumblat, the Lady of the Palace was nothing but extraordinary. This documentary presents an interesting cross-section of Lebanese history by telling her story. Her rise to power was a groundbreaking event, the first instance in three centuries of Druze history that a woman assumed any sort of power role. In the absence of any male heir old enough to hold sway, Nazira Joumblat stepped up, securing her family’s reign over the Moukhtara palace. Initially met with resistance from traditionalists who opposed any involvement by women in what were regarded as "the affairs of men," Nazira’s strength and wisdom as a leader earned her respect and acceptance from even the most firmly entrenched fundamentalists. The palace and the persona become inextricably linked throughout the film. The narration personifies the palace throughout, as an entity who speaks to Nazira and acts as both her confidante and instructor. Nazira Joumblat’s story represents the triumph of intellect and leadership over the boundaries of gender.

This film is to be commended for commemorating the outstanding life of a respected and powerful Lebanese woman. There is no denying that the subject is a worthwhile one. The execution, however, leaves much to be desired. Stale images and even staler narration turn this film into something to be endured rather than enjoyed. I found myself wondering how many different ways a camera could possibly capture a veiled woman wandering the halls of her palace. The endless close-ups of windows, palace stairs, melting snow or flowers blowing in the wind contributed to my feeling that the images were gratuitously added to the narration to catch the eye while the history lesson was transmitted. Lady of the Palace has its weaknesses, certainly. Luckily, the subject outshines the execution.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, November 23rd 2006

Breaking the Silence: French Women’s Voices from the Ghetto

admin — Sun, 19 Nov 2006 16:01:00 +0000

By Fadela Amara

University of California Press

In her recently translated book Breaking the Silence, Fadela Amara attempts to rework and redefine feminism as it relates to her specific time and place. As a Muslim girl of Algerian immigrant parents growing up in the projects, Amara’s experience of feminism as the term is traditionally defined by western academics was non-existent. In fact, her book critiques the very term as it exists now, perceived by her to be owned by the white middle and upper-class women who coined it. Rather than clinging to old ways and means, Amara challenges herself and other women in the projects to find new meaning, "to regroup around essential issues such as the struggle against sexist violence, against conjugal violence, in favor of equal pay, for greater professional mobility."

Starting at zero, Muslim women in the French projects had their work cut out for them, and as this book reveals, rose to the challenge. The original march organizers far surpassed their original expectations. Mothers, once confined and cowed into submission, broke tradition and marched alongside their daughters. Grandmothers, even more entrenched in conventional ways, emerged from crowds along the marchers’ route to whisper blessings in the ears of that younger generation, inspired. Upon their arrival at their final destination in Paris, the marchers were met with astounding support and received a meeting with the Prime Minister to express their motivations for marching and their hopes for the future. These were things Amara never could have conceived of before.

By putting these stories on paper, Amara is able to convey the message that the impossible can become possible through solidarity. In this way, this book is inspirational. The stories collected here represent human will triumphing over oppression; in any context, that is an uplifting thing. The women presented in Breaking the Silence disregard the usual rhetoric and theory surrounding the concept of feminism in favor of pragmatic approaches to results-oriented activism. Their cross-country march earned them respect and visibility. A community once completely invisible within even within the confines of their own homes is now gaining the power to improve the quality of life for Muslim women in the projects. The writing isn’t ground-breaking, but the story is. This may not be the most finely crafted piece of writing, but here, the value lies in the work of raising awareness and spreading information about a social issue barely recognized by France, let alone the rest of the western world. This English translation is an extremely valuable tool in this process. On its own terms Breaking the Silence is a resounding success, a testimonial, a manifesto, and a call-to-arms.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, November 19th 2006