‘Are Men Necessary?’ By Maureen Dowd

It is a question that many women ask themselves at some point. In Maureen Dowd’s book, the answer is, I think, purposefully vague. This must be for obvious reasons; women keep asking themselves this same question because there is no easy answer.

Dowd tracks many changes that have been brought about by feminism from fashion to marriage to politics. Her style is conversational and very funny even when talking about subjects that are usually not treated as a laughing matter, like sexual harassment or adultery. People who are actually looking for an answer to the title question will probably be disappointed; I don’t know whether there is an answer. But those who come in search of an interesting overview of some of feminism’s triumphs and failures will be sure to enjoy.

I love men and I think they are wonderful for friendship and companionship, but do I need a man? It’s an interesting question, because my life would obviously have been very different without men. The author uses Hilary Clinton as an example; she is successful and has a career of her own, but would she have been able to accomplish this without her husband’s prior success and subsequent public betrayal? It seems likely that her success would have been on a smaller scale. A better question seems to be whether feminism can eventually bring women to a place where they can thrive politically without introductions and support from the men in their lives.

‘Wide Sargasso Sea’ by Jean Rhys

It is hard for me to imagine how Wide Sargasso Sea would be read by a person who isn’t familiar with Jane Eyre. (It’s actually just hard for me to imagine the lives of people who haven’t read Jane Eyre, but that’s another story.) For the most part, I think Wide Sargasso Sea is very accessible to all readers, which is refreshing and unusual for a spin-off book. The book tells the story of Mr. Rochester’s first wife, the crazy woman in the attic. Jane Eyre sympathizes with Mr. Rochester; Wide Sargasso Sea is unforgiving of his treatment of his wife. For the most part I think Wide Sargasso Sea is very accessible to all readers, which is refreshing and unusual for a spin-off book. However, despite the fact that Wide Sargasso Sea stands well on its own, it is even better when the reader is able to make comparisons.

The first thing that strikes me about Wide Sargasso Sea is that the girl, Antoinette Cosway, seems to be likened to Jane Eyre. They are both lonely and poor as children with very little care or attention from their parental figures. Both latch on to a kind maid for companionship. Later, both leave home to go to school where they greatly admire the women who work as teachers. This is drastically different than Mr. Rochester’s comparison of Jane and his first wife in Jane Eyre: “This young girl [Jane] who stands so grave and quiet at the mouth of hell, looking collectedly at the gambols of a demon [Antoinette]. I wanted her just as a change after that fierce ragout. Wood and Briggs, look at the difference! Compare these clear eyes with the red balls yonder- this face with that mask-this form with that bulk”. My impression after reading Jane Eyre is that the two women are very different; my impression after reading Wide Sargasso Sea is that they are very much alike.

The other thing that strikes me about the relationships between these books is the difference between the sexuality of the two women. Jane Eyre is the very essence of self-denial while Antoinette is not. Granted, there were 100 years between the two novels, but I think the contrast is significant. Are affectionate, sexual women to be feared and ostracized? Would Mr. Rochester have accepted Antoinette if she had been repulsed by sexuality? These are all interesting questions, and hopefully we’ll all be a little less sympathetic towards Rochester after reading Wide Sargasso Sea.

‘Born To Run’ By Christopher McDougall

I haven’t been running at all lately, and thanks to Christopher McDougall, I feel really bad about it now. Or at least angry with myself for getting out of the habit. Born to Run follows several American endurance runners and an isolated tribe of Mexican runners who have what seems to be superhuman stamina. We begin with McDougall’s first meeting with Caballo Blanco (The White Horse, an American living near the Tarahumara tribe in Mexico); the story climaxes with a run in the desert that includes many of the characters introduced along the way.

Though McDougall is telling a very personal story about friends and acquaintances, he includes lots of background information to help the reader to better understand endurance running. To understand Barefoot Ted’s philosophy, it helps to have a background on proper running form and podiatric medicine. To understand the Tarahumara diet it helps to know a bit about general nutrition. To understand how the human body is adapted to running, it helps to know a little about evolution. Although Born to Run covers many years and includes many individuals, McDougall is able to travel easily between times and places in a way that isn’t confusing or overwhelming.

I suspect that this book will appeal equally to those who enjoy running and those who want to be more involved in the sport (people who have no intention of being physically active will probably not like it). Aside from being entertained, I also picked up some great tips about nutrition (Chia seeds – who knew?), running form and footwear (I don’t need to spend a lot of money!). Of course, I’m not really going to know how successful all this running information is until I try it for myself.

'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy

Around the same time my sister was reading The Road I saw the book listed as on of the top 10 most depressing books ever written. So I expected that it would be good based on what my sister said and I knew it was going to make me really, really sad. The story is set in what appears to be a nuclear winter or some similarly bleak setting (we don’t know much about the history); clouds have completely blocked out the sun, ash covers everything and plants and animals seem to be extinct. In this gray, cold landscape, a man and his child travel together, trying to survive and care for one another. It is heartbreaking, but I also think that it is probably important to read and think about.

Despite the fact that the book is depressing and the world has become something alien to us, it isn’t really so difficult to relate to the things that happen in the story. Shouldn’t we all live to do what’s best for the people we love? The way I see it, the questions in the book are things that we should all be thinking about everyday:

• What are we going to do?


• Is that safe to eat?


• Are you one of the good guys?


• Are you carrying the fire?

‘Suite Française’ by Irene Némirovsky

It is impossible to write about Suite Française without mentioning Némirovsky’s background. Némirovsky was working on Suite Française during World War II; the war’s effect on the people of France is the subject of the book. Unfortunately, the book was never finished. Némirovsky was a Jew and was sent to Auschwitz where she later died. Suite Française is a wonderful fictional account of France during the war, and readers will regret never knowing the planned ending.

The book follows the lives of several families and individuals during the invasion of France by the German army and the subsequent occupation. Gradually, we see that the lives of these seemingly dissimilar people are connected in unexpected ways. I suspect that many of these personal connections would have become more pronounced as the story continues to progress.

Something that I enjoy: the author character in this book is a really unpleasant man. I get sick of authors who only want to portray authors as being nice, intelligent people. Némirovsky does an excellent job of illustrating what the stress and deprivation of war can do to people.

Beautifully written and tragic by itself and in context. I’ve read Suite Française before and I certainly do not regret revisiting it.

Our Franklin campus owns a copy – Check it out!

'The Water's Lovely' by Ruth Rendell

I really enjoy Ruth Rendell. She always manages to surprise me, which ought to be one of the primary goals of any good suspense writer. Unfortunately it also seems to be a relatively rare gift among those who write suspense books.

The Water’s Lovely tells the story of two sisters and the mystery of their stepfather’s death in the upstairs bathtub when they were children. Though it sounds fairly straightforward, Rendell has several other equally well-developed characters; one sister’s love interest, their lonely aunt, a manipulative fortune hunter, etc. In typical Rendell style, all of the lives intersect wonderfully and the reader is eager to find out what will happen to the characters.

Another thing that I thoroughly enjoy about Rendell stories is the fact that she often focuses on topics that are important to women. This book offers several examples of relationship abuse and violence. Though I know very little about her personal life, I get the feeling that the author has pretty strong political feelings and she is doing a very good job of expressing them subtly in her work. But then again, I may just be projecting my own opinions.

Overall, this was another great book by Ruth Rendell, but I would have expected nothing less.

Mrs. Ted Bliss -- Blissful Enough Yet?

Stanley Elkin's Mrs. Ted Bliss (PS3555 .L47 M76 1995) is the story of a Russian Jewish widow who lives in a deteriorating condo in Miami Beach. The novel takes her from about age 67 to 82. Over time, Mrs. Bliss never stops grieving for her dead husband and son. When asked by a therapist to describe her interests, she can only think of card games and TV. Later, even these interests elude her. Her surviving children live far away, and her old friends keep dying. What keeps Mrs. Ted Bliss from being the most depressing book ever written? Partly just the existence of so many other depressing books, but there's more than that. No clues, however, can be found in the book-jacket description, which makes Mrs. Bliss seem to have just stepped out of Harold and Maude:

But Mrs. Ted is stepping out. She receives the attentions of Alcibiades Chitral from Venezuela, as well as Tommy "Overeasy" Auveristas, and Manny from the building. Why are they all so interested in Ted's Buick LeSabre?

They're interested in the LeSabre because Mrs. Bliss sold it to a criminal who's been sent to prison for 100 years. Elkin has created a prison so captivatingly implausible that we're forced to keep a bit of ironic distance from the characters and their plights. I haven't been to prison, but I'm pretty sure that in real life prisoners don't get to take flying lessons--and certainly not from their unlicensed fellow inmates.

Similarly, Mrs. Bliss's therapist is a follower of a school of therapy, Recreational Therapeusis, that exists only in Elkin's imagination. The movement's modest goal is for the "therapeusisist" to help the the client find life-enriching hobbies. Yet Elkin has created a world where Recreational Therapeusis is wildly controversial, "a sham, fodder for old call-in shows."

Mrs. Bliss lives in a semi-alternative universe, which makes her a semi-imaginary character, which keeps us from becoming overwhelmed by her despair. But Mrs. Bliss's kind of wisdom also makes her deserve respect: at the end of the book, she's comforting a minor character, someone she doesn't really like and considers crazy. She's thinking, "Family, friends, love fall away. Even madness stilled at last. Until all that's left is obligation." A kind of wisdom. I leave the book feeling sad, but certainly respectful of the character and her bravery in the face of difficult memories and responsibilities. Mostly, though, I just enjoy the semi-mad world of Stanley Elkin's last book.