Wednesday book meme thing
Aug. 30th, 2017 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missroseroseWhat I just finished reading
Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. I expected this story to be a fairly predictable fairy-tale mash-up - a hefty dose of Beauty and the Beast, a chunk of Cinderella, a dash of Rapunzel, plus bits and pieces of lesser-known tales. And I expected, in the way of these things, that Agnieszka would find herself thrust into a passive role at some point, despite the strength of her voice as narrator, because that's how fairy tales go - women are either innocents to be corrupted, damsels to be rescued, or evil stepmothers to be overcome. I certainly wasn't moved from this assessment by the near-immediate use of one of my least favorite gendered tropes (Agnieszka can't seem to get anything right because her magic doesn't work like the Dragon's! His is all intellectual and orderly like an architect's plan, but hers is intuitive and messy and grows everywhere like a forest! Just once I would like to see a young man demonstrate to a cranky old woman that not everything has to be done by the book, that you can build a spell using the strength of your heart as well as your mind. Grr).
And then, slowly, the story diverged from my expectations. Some of my assumptions were borne out, but in a more complex way than I'd predicted; and much to my delight, Agnieszka refused point-blank to be put in a passive role. This is her story through and through, and every time someone tries to shut her up or protect her or otherwise remove her agency, she just goes right around or through them - often learning some painful lessons in the process, but always accepting those lessons and figuring out ways to do better in the future. There were numerous times I wanted to cheer for her outright.
Just as impressive is the development of other players in this drama. Marek, the Handsome Prince, first seems like he's going to be the standard charismatic-cad-and-bounder, until his arc takes a turn that lends his entire character depth - he's still a cad and a bounder, but we see him exhibit sympathetic and even noble traits as well. Possibly my favorite characterization is that of The Dragon; I was despondently awaiting a Beauty and the Beast style magical transformation from distant, self-protecting hermit to warm and caring romantic hero, because Love Redeems Us All, doncha know. And instead I got an erratic, hardscrabble growth arc, done in fits and starts and often under duress, as much from necessity as from desire, with an ending that manages to be hopeful but still in character. Most of the main characters have similar layers; I haven't even gotten into how Agnieszka's friend Kasia gets to go from "brave and beautiful maiden" to "damsel in distress" to...well, I won't ruin her arc for you.
So, yeah. A story that I thought would be light easy slightly-problematic-but-nonetheless-enjoyable reading actually turned out to have surprising depth and complexity, and to be even more engrossing than the potboiler I was originally expecting. I love it when that happens.
What I'm currently reading
The Hummingbird's Daughter, by Luis Alberto Urrea. I only got a little further into this before getting sidetracked into Uprooted, but I'm already sensing a theme about the shortcomings of machismo culture, and the toll it takes both on the men who grow up to be emotionally distant from their loved ones, and the women who have to bear the brunt of the emotional labor - and what happens when they crack under the strain. I'm curious to see if the story will offer any other options; delineating the faults of gender norms is all well and good, but without any alternate vision it tends to just be depressing.
The Yiddish Policeman's Union, by Michael Chabon. I enjoyed the audiobook of this so much that I bought a paper copy, and have been reading it aloud to Brian. I'm actually glad I listened to the audiobook first, though; I feel like I have a much better sense for the rhythms of the language, which even though it's mostly English has a distinctly Yiddish cadence, if that makes sense. I'm still tripping over the Yiddish words a bit, but that's forgivable, I think; and it's well worth it to be able to savor Chabon's many entertaining turns of phrase and vivid descriptions.
What I plan to read next
I think I am going to start tackling some of my yoga books - as of this week, I'm teaching five permanent classes in three formats plus whatever subs I pick up, so I'm going to need some inspiration, haha. I have the book on sequencing, and a friend got me a book by B.K.S. Iyengar (sort of the original yoga guru in America), and I have a book on yin yoga another friend loaned me...let's do this!
Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. I expected this story to be a fairly predictable fairy-tale mash-up - a hefty dose of Beauty and the Beast, a chunk of Cinderella, a dash of Rapunzel, plus bits and pieces of lesser-known tales. And I expected, in the way of these things, that Agnieszka would find herself thrust into a passive role at some point, despite the strength of her voice as narrator, because that's how fairy tales go - women are either innocents to be corrupted, damsels to be rescued, or evil stepmothers to be overcome. I certainly wasn't moved from this assessment by the near-immediate use of one of my least favorite gendered tropes (Agnieszka can't seem to get anything right because her magic doesn't work like the Dragon's! His is all intellectual and orderly like an architect's plan, but hers is intuitive and messy and grows everywhere like a forest! Just once I would like to see a young man demonstrate to a cranky old woman that not everything has to be done by the book, that you can build a spell using the strength of your heart as well as your mind. Grr).
And then, slowly, the story diverged from my expectations. Some of my assumptions were borne out, but in a more complex way than I'd predicted; and much to my delight, Agnieszka refused point-blank to be put in a passive role. This is her story through and through, and every time someone tries to shut her up or protect her or otherwise remove her agency, she just goes right around or through them - often learning some painful lessons in the process, but always accepting those lessons and figuring out ways to do better in the future. There were numerous times I wanted to cheer for her outright.
Just as impressive is the development of other players in this drama. Marek, the Handsome Prince, first seems like he's going to be the standard charismatic-cad-and-bounder, until his arc takes a turn that lends his entire character depth - he's still a cad and a bounder, but we see him exhibit sympathetic and even noble traits as well. Possibly my favorite characterization is that of The Dragon; I was despondently awaiting a Beauty and the Beast style magical transformation from distant, self-protecting hermit to warm and caring romantic hero, because Love Redeems Us All, doncha know. And instead I got an erratic, hardscrabble growth arc, done in fits and starts and often under duress, as much from necessity as from desire, with an ending that manages to be hopeful but still in character. Most of the main characters have similar layers; I haven't even gotten into how Agnieszka's friend Kasia gets to go from "brave and beautiful maiden" to "damsel in distress" to...well, I won't ruin her arc for you.
So, yeah. A story that I thought would be light easy slightly-problematic-but-nonetheless-enjoyable reading actually turned out to have surprising depth and complexity, and to be even more engrossing than the potboiler I was originally expecting. I love it when that happens.
What I'm currently reading
The Hummingbird's Daughter, by Luis Alberto Urrea. I only got a little further into this before getting sidetracked into Uprooted, but I'm already sensing a theme about the shortcomings of machismo culture, and the toll it takes both on the men who grow up to be emotionally distant from their loved ones, and the women who have to bear the brunt of the emotional labor - and what happens when they crack under the strain. I'm curious to see if the story will offer any other options; delineating the faults of gender norms is all well and good, but without any alternate vision it tends to just be depressing.
The Yiddish Policeman's Union, by Michael Chabon. I enjoyed the audiobook of this so much that I bought a paper copy, and have been reading it aloud to Brian. I'm actually glad I listened to the audiobook first, though; I feel like I have a much better sense for the rhythms of the language, which even though it's mostly English has a distinctly Yiddish cadence, if that makes sense. I'm still tripping over the Yiddish words a bit, but that's forgivable, I think; and it's well worth it to be able to savor Chabon's many entertaining turns of phrase and vivid descriptions.
What I plan to read next
I think I am going to start tackling some of my yoga books - as of this week, I'm teaching five permanent classes in three formats plus whatever subs I pick up, so I'm going to need some inspiration, haha. I have the book on sequencing, and a friend got me a book by B.K.S. Iyengar (sort of the original yoga guru in America), and I have a book on yin yoga another friend loaned me...let's do this!
