"Simple Acts to Save Our Planet: 500 Ways to Make a Difference" by Michelle Neff

The title of this book says it all. This is a list of earth-friendly changes to make or actions to take, most of which just about anyone can do. The book does not go into great detail about any of the ideas, which in several cases was a detriment as I was left wanting more information, but it was pretty comprehensive in terms of what individuals can do. The majority of the ideas were small, easy baby steps (in contrast with what I have gathered from Greta Thunberg: don't eat meat or dairy, don't fly, and don't buy new things--huge changes that many would balk at). 

I took notes and organized the ideas as I read. Everything fell into one (or more) of eight categories: Produce less trash, buy less stuff, reduce emissions, conserve water, reduce use of chemicals, use less electricity, influence public policy, and help nature. Some were things I'm already doing (which made me feel good), some were things I've been thinking about doing and reading this book was the impetus I needed to take action, some were things I'd never thought about, and a few were . . . well, I laughed a few times. (Avoid steel-jaw traps. Done!! Also, don't buy a tiger, lemur or lion for a pet. Never crossed my mind!) Overall I found this book a good resource or jumping-off point for anyone who is interested in trying to do their part.

I must say I'm not really sure how much difference most of these ideas will make. I do wonder if the greatest effect is in virtue signaling or feeling good about yourself for making an effort to save the planet. I also worry that changes may have unexpected and unintended negative consequences that cancel out the good we're trying to do (I swear this is not just an excuse to avoid taking action; I really do worry about this). On the other hand, I think this is the sort of thing where cumulative effect makes a difference. After all, cumulative effect is the way the planet got in the shape it's in, right? So it makes sense that it's going to take cumulative effect to fix anything.

I'm about to do something I don't usually do on my blog. I'm about to share my thoughts on something that is not related to books. If reading others' thoughts on climate change makes you angry, or if you're only interested in reading about books, you may want to stop here before I go off the rails. Here we go . . . 

Yes, I am aware that climate change is a natural process that was happening long before humans started negatively impacting the earth. Yes, I believe climate change would still be happening--likely outside of human control--even if we all "did everything right." However, I also believe that in the past century the climate has changed in unnatural ways, to a degree and with a rapidity that would not have happened otherwise, caused mainly by human reliance on fossil fuels together with a thoughtless form of consumption (and I mean that in a very broad sense). I believe that if we want future generations to remain able to live comfortably on Earth, we need to be willing to make some sacrifices and changes in the way we live. In some sense we may need to redefine comfort. I read this book in hopes of gaining a better understanding of the sacrifices and changes I may need to make.

To take this a step further: I see many people posting lists online of all the useful and necessary items that are made using petroleum. I also see many people lamenting the loss of jobs in the oil and gas industries due to proposed changes. And I see many people posting about what a ridiculously terrible idea the Green New Deal is. Here is my thought process: first of all, is anyone (I'm talking about those with the power to effect such a change, not random people posting on the Internet) suggesting that we should completely cease using fossil fuels? My assumption is that, while the aim is to drastically reduce consumption, we would continue to use petroleum for necessities (medications, for example) that can't be produced in any other way--while also, perhaps, looking for other ways they could be produced. (I do worry, however, whether the oil industry is resilient enough to contract and still exist.) Second of all, changes in industry have always occurred throughout human history: some sectors shrink, some grow, new ones are created. I know if my job were being phased out I would not be happy about it, to say the least. I can totally understand people wanting to hang onto their careers. but that's where the Green New Deal comes in. I'm not super familiar with it (but I do have a book about it that I plan to read soon!) but it is my understanding that, like FDR's New Deal that helped to end The Great Depression, it is intended to aid and employ those whose jobs will be affected in the shift away from fossil fuels. 

OK, I'm done. I will leave you with one fun fact: the author of this book, Michelle Neff, is the friend of a friend of a friend of mine! I'm pretty sure she doesn't know that, though. 

"Summerwater" by Sarah Moss

I love tiny little books like this. They fit so nicely in my hand, which makes it so easy to cozy up with them. Of course what's inside them has to measure up, or what's the point? The only problem is that they go by too fast. 

This one more than measured up (and certainly went by too fast). I read this author's Ghost Wall a few months back and it was really great; it's always nice to "discover" an author who has already published several books, because I can make my way through their back catalog as quickly or slowly as I'd like instead of having to wait to see if and when they come out with something new. It's even nicer when books from their back catalog meet the expectations made high by my initial experience with the author's writing. 

Summerwater takes place in a "holiday park" of rented cabins in Scotland, and despite the fact that it is summertime, this book is as waterlogged and chilly as Ghost Wall was scorching and parched. The story takes place over just one day, as described by a dozen different narrators sharing their string of thoughts which is sometimes woven together with those of the other characters. The whole thing is imbued with a nameless dread: You know something bad is going to happen, just not to whom or when. But at the same time it is darkly funny. I mean, who wouldn't laugh knowing that Josh is so studiously intent on a simultaneous orgasm with Milly when Milly's mind is clearly not quite so focused? 

I love how clear a sense of each person we get from just one chapter of narration each. It is truly a pleasure to read a book that has such fully-realized characters. 

"Arlington Park" by Rachel Cusk

By this point in my reading life I would basically read anything by Rachel Cusk without question. I mean, if I see a book by her that I've never read before, I'm getting it without even bothering with the Dip Test. 

That's how I ended up surprised. Having only read The Outline Trilogy, A Life's Work, and Aftermath, I think I expected all of Cusk's books to be . . . well, I was about to type "similarly plotless" (with the understanding that I don't at all mean that in a negative way) but I paused to reflect, and realized Arlington Park doesn't have much in the way of a plot either. But it is quite different from the other Cusk books I've read--different enough to surprise me. 

This is certainly the type of book that reviewers would call "brilliantly incisive." The entire novel takes place in one day and gives flashes of the lives of ten or so women who live in Arlington Park, outside of London. We only get into the minds of about half of the characters, but the glimpses we get are rife with the kind of despair and misery that only suburbia can breed. It's gripping in its honesty and its juxtaposition of beauty and ugliness.

It makes me feel inadequate, ignorant and uninformed to learn only from Wikipedia that this book is a retelling of Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (a book I've never read, though it is on my TBR list). I wish I had been able to recognize that on my own. I have some work to do! Not to mention there are six other novels Rachel Cusk has written that I just wasn't even aware of, plus a seventh coming out this year. Lots to look forward to!

"I Know This To Be True: Greta Thunberg" by Geoff Blackwell and Ruth Hobday

I totally did not expect to finish this book thirty minutes after I first picked it up. I thought it might be something I dipped into occasionally and ultimately spent weeks reading bit by bit while I devoted the majority of my reading time to novels. But as it turns out, the content of this book is not much more extensive than a long read in a magazine. (And I must admit I did wonder how good it is for the environment to put something so brief in book form . . . )

Sam and I watched the documentary "I Am Greta" a few weeks back, and while it was an engaging human interest piece, it ultimately left me wondering, "but what can we actually do?" There were very few proposals of concrete actions we can take to save the environment. In fact, I only picked up on three things: don't eat meat or dairy, don't fly, and stop buying new things. (Admittedly those are three very BIG things.) I was left wanting to learn more specifics about what Greta is fighting for. 

Knowing this, Sam gave me a couple of related books for Christmas, one of which was the Greta book in the I Know This To Be True series. And while I am glad that I read this, ultimately it wasn't what I was looking for. It's very much in the same vein as the documentary, almost like the CliffNotes version of it. I don't feel like I gained any new information from the book, although it did make Greta's main aim more clear: reduce carbon emissions. As far as specific actions to take in order to accomplish that goal, neither this book nor the documentary serve as that sort of guide. Greta's focus is on getting lawmakers to shift policy rather than in teaching individuals how they can help. So now I've moved on to the other book Sam gave me for Christmas . . . stay tuned.

"The Black Friend: On Being a Better White Person" by Frederick Joseph

Bookworm Child (who, really, is no longer such a child after all these years) bought this book for herself a week or two ago. I was a mixture of proud, impressed and surprised that she chose to learn more about this topic, and I asked to borrow it after she was done. Just a day or two later the book was on my bed and I thought she had given up on it, so I was pleased to find out that she'd actually read the whole thing. 

To be honest, I don't want to discuss this book in detail right now as it's such a sensitive topic (for the same reason that I don't use my book blog to express my opinions on politics or religion). Maybe I'll come back and add thoughts at some point? In the meantime, I will only say that this book is very thought-provoking and definitely worth reading. 

"On the Blue Train" by Kristel Thornell

I'm a big fan of Agatha Christie's murder mysteries, though I read them in my pre-blogging days and have never tried to ensure that I've read them all. I really have no idea what percentage of them I may have missed. But I always loved how Christie led me to suspect almost every single character and still managed to surprise me at the end. Her mysteries are, to me, the epitome of the genre, and I compare all others to hers. (Needless to say most of them fall short.)

Though I love the novels she produced, I was never really especially interested in Christie herself--until I heard of the book Agatha Christie and the Eleven Missing Days by Jared Cade. I'd previously been completely unaware of this, but a blurb about that book told me that in 1926, Agatha Christie disappeared without a trace under (dare I say it?) mysterious circumstances. It wasn't a kidnapping (which was where my mind first went) and the true story never seemed to be adequately explained. Ooh! A real-life mystery surrounding the grande dame of mystery novels!

I've been meaning to read Cade's book ever since but have never gotten around to it, which may in part be due to the fact that I somehow acquired the impression it is somewhat tedious and dry. I was torn between wanting to know what happened and not wanting to be bored. So when I heard about Kristel Thornell's version of the story, I was quite excited to read it. From what I could uncover online, it promised to be much more readable.

And I definitely did enjoy it. On the Blue Train is really well-written and interesting. I'm not sure it truly satisfied my curiosity as it's obviously a work of fiction and I wanted to know what really happened, but I've come to the realization that that's probably not possible. I think the only person who knows what really happened is Christie herself, and evidently she never truly opened up about those eleven days. So I'm satisfied with the fact that this is the next best thing: what could have happened, in the guise of a novel that is enjoyable and engaging. 

"The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet" by David Mitchell

I went into this book knowing nothing and expecting nothing. Well, that's not entirely true; Sam had read it before and told me it was definitely worth reading. Unsurprisingly, he was right.

This story is based in Dejima, a manmade island and trading post off the coast of Nagasaki, just at the dawn of the nineteenth century. Japan, still a very closed-off country, allowed limited trading with the Dutch East Indies company only through this port. The story begins with a change in management; the Company has sent inspectors and auditors to root out the corrupt officials who had been lining their own pockets. Of course this transition has an obvious element of meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Except for Jacob de Zoet, a lowly clerk who is both clever and honest. 

The story is not all boring commerce and politics, however. The commerce and politics are enhanced by intrigue, and there is love (towards both the fiancee whom Jacob has left behind in Domburg, and the enticing new-ness of midwife and medical student Orito Aibagawa) and death and even a secret, evil cult. Because it wouldn't be a David Mitchell book without a secret, evil cult, right?

I turned the last page asking how much of this was real. There were parts I automatically assumed were fantasy (mainly related to Lord Abbot Enomoto's shrine on Mount Shiranui and the activities that take place there) but others seemed so real, I wondered. Dejiima itself? The trade agreement with the Dutch? The encounter with HMS Phaeton? Turns out that all of that was based on history. In fact, a quick wiki visit tells me the reason for the sense of genuine truth: "Small details, such as if people used shaving cream or not, could require [so] much time that a single sentence could take half a day to write." Mitchell spent four years writing this book, and I think his substantial research paid off. 

So let's talk about how David Mitchell's characters keep reappearing, like in Cloud Atlas but on a larger scale (between books rather than within one book). I've read The Bone Clocks and Slade House, and apparently Dr Marinus (who Jacob meets in Dejima) appears in both of those books too. Of course, being the literary amnesiac that I am, I have no memory of his character in either book and would not have been aware of his reappearance if the Internet hadn't told me about it. Ah well. I can't help but wonder how many of his characters will reappear in the Mitchell story that is buried with the Future Library. I suppose we will never know.

Speaking of reappearances, apparently I need to read Utopia Avenue now . . .

"On the Shortness of Life" by Seneca

I read this essay due to the power of suggestion. And because it sounded worthwhile, and because it is super-short. (Much like life itself!) 

It was a good thing to read. I didn't come across any real earth-shattering concepts, but it was full of things to keep in mind if you're trying not to waste your life. I noted my favorites:

• People are loath to squander their material possessions, but they think nothing of squandering their time. Time is treated as a mere trifle, but it is actually the most precious thing in the world. 
• In a way, retirement does not make sense. Don't wait until the end of your life to live your life.
• Many complain that they are wasting their lives, yet they take no action that will change that reality. 
• The worst are those who spend all their time on lust and wine, because their waste of time is dishonorable. (To which I would add . . . sure, you shouldn't spend ALL your time on lust and wine, but we all need to relax every now and then!)
• Plan out every day as if it were your last, and you will neither long for nor fear tomorrow. (I'm not sure how realistic this one is, or whether I'm just trying to apply it too literally; if tomorrow were truly my last day of life, I would not be doing what I am currently planning to do--which is going to work--but because the likelihood is high that tomorrow will not be my last day, I can't change my plans.) 
• Just because someone has existed for a long time does not mean they have lived a long time.
• I noted this last one more because I thought it was funny than because I agreed with it: The gathering of knowledge is basically a waste of time--unless you're gathering knowledge about philosophy. Studying the philosophers is a good use of time. 

Here is what I got from this essay that I would like to keep at the forefront of my mind: Embrace the past (don't forget it), use the present (don't neglect it), anticipate the future (don't fear it). Don't lose the day in expectation of the night, don't lose the night in fear of the dawn. 

"The Lighthouse" by Alison Moore

I broke my rule and didn't blog about this book before starting a new one. I've probably explained this before, but that rule is mainly to prevent me from lapsing into another blogging slump where I get so far behind that I'm afraid I'll never catch up (see The Lost Years) but it's also because my memory is already bad enough without waiting a week or two AND overwriting the old book with a new one. 

At least I can still remember that this is an interesting, well-written book and I enjoyed reading it. It tells the story of Futh, a middle-aged British man who is taking a "restorative walking holiday" in Germany while his soon-to-be-ex wife packs up all his belongings and has them moved out of their house. Unsurprisingly, Futh spends most of his hiking time in ruminating on his past, from the more recent (his failed marriage) to his childhood (and his father's failed marriage). Futh's story is interspersed with that of Ester, who runs the bed and breakfast where Futh spends the first night of his trip (but also where, mysteriously, he is not offered breakfast the next morning).  

The book is full of repeated themes: lighthouses (obviously), perfume and perfume bottles and scents (especially oranges and violets, with a little camphor thrown in), the name Angela, the wife who strays or leaves or both, the Venus flytrap, and likely a few others that I've forgotten due to my blogging delay. It would be interesting (if time-consuming and complicated) to draw a Venn diagram of all the characters and what they had in common. Sometimes I had to pause, realizing I was conflating one character with another just based on their echoed idiosyncrasies. 

I did feel like the penultimate chapter was maybe slightly overblown. Whereas until that point the common themes were treated with a lighter hand, all of a sudden at the end I was bombarded with all of them, one right after another, and instead of the previous clever and subtle effect it was a little overwhelming and claustrophobic. Luckily this did not hide the building sense of dread (though Futh himself was oblivious) and did not ruin the book for me. It's a good one! You should read it.

"Hamnet" by Maggie O'Farrell

 Maggie O'Farrell is one of my favorite female authors, along with Ann Patchett and Geraldine Brooks. They all write flawlessly, and come up with such good stories! Hamnet is no exception.

This is a story about a boy named Hamnet in 16th century England. It is also about Hamnet's parents and sisters and grandparents and aunts and uncles. And it is about grieving the death of a child. I didn't put this in my blog title, but you may be able to see from the book cover that it has a subtitle "A Novel of the Plague". I feel like that subtitle is slightly misleading; the plague does not seem to me to be the focus of the book, for example, the way it is in Geraldine Brooks' Year of Wonders, though it does have a definite presence and directly affects the plot. I think, really, the book is mostly about Hamnet's mother. 

I have deliberately left out Hamnet's last name thus far, making his identity just as tangential as O'Farrell does in the story, but in fact Hamnet's surname is Shakespeare. And yes, his father's name is William (though I'm not sure those facts are ever actually mentioned directly). In fact, if I hadn't read the back cover I might not have known that Hamnet was anyone other than a random English lad from long ago (though I might have guessed, and wondered if I was right), until right up close to the end of the book.

The thing I am likely to remember most clearly about this book is the section of grieving. It was so incredibly intense and moving. It was almost too much; I reached a point where I'd nearly had enough. Normally I scoff at sad stories, priding myself on my dry eyes, and feeling annoyed when an author is obviously trying to manipulate my emotions, but there was none of that here. Tears streamed from my eyes as I read. When I reached the end of that section, rather than feeling manipulated, I felt wrung out. 

I can't believe I still haven't read all of Maggie O'Farrell's books. I need to remedy that soon.

"Hemingway's Girl" by Erika Robuck

 

Funny that I'd been talking about my interest in more stories of Hemingway's women when I posted about Love and Ruin back in June. Earlier this month as I was scanning my bookshelves, looking for my next read, I pounced on this one as soon as it caught my eye. I have no memory of where or when I bought it (although the price tag on the front makes me think it was probably from a Friends of the Library bookstore, because where else can you find such amazing deals?) but I'm sure it was months (if not years) ago, and it felt as if I had wished it into existence.

This book wasn't exactly what I was looking for, as the titular female is a fictional one, but the story takes place during Hemingway's marriage to Pauline (or "Fife") in Key West in the 30s. And I feel like Robuck does just as good a job as Paula McLain in painting a picture of Ernest Hemingway as seen through others' eyes--so much so that the three books could all be of a series by the same author, the characterizations dovetailing nicely. The fictional character here, though she is the main character, doesn't eclipse Hemingway or relegate him to a bit part; rather, she serves to showcase his larger-than-life persona.

The "girl" of the title is a nineteen-year-old native of Key West, half Cuban, who is hired as a housekeeper for the Hemingways. Insatiable as he is, Ernest is of course attracted to her (and the feeling is mutual) but Mariella is also forming a relationship with a young WWI veteran who is working on the Overseas Highway. At times the book does inch dangerously close to a silly romance, but it never went far enough to earn my scorn.

I'm wanting to read How it Was and Ruth Hawkins' book about the Hem-Fife marriage even more now. 

"Hangsaman" by Shirley Jackson

This is a weird little story that I'd never heard of before, but its title caught my eye (helped along by the presence of the little penguin on the spine) and of course I've heard of Shirley Jackson, although perhaps her short story "The Lottery" and her ghost story The Haunting of Hill House may be the only works of hers that I've previously read. (I've definitely heard of We Have Always Lived in the Castle but, dang amnesia, I can't remember if I've read it.) I was also intrigued by the cover. Those blood splatters might be somewhat misleading but it would have been a boring cover without them.

Hangsaman is the story of Natalie Waite, a seventeen-year-old girl on the verge of leaving for college. Her father is a semi-famous writer who encourages her own writing talent, and right from the beginning it is evident that Natalie has a lot going on inside her mind, something more than just a vivid imagination. Not surprisingly, at college she is lonely and has trouble fitting in. By the time she befriends Tony it's almost impossible to tell what is actually happening outside of Natalie's head and what is only happening inside it. I was kind of hoping (but simultaneously fearing) that the book would end with another character explaining ("Here's what really happened . . . ) but I was disappointed (and relieved) to be left to figure it out on my own. 

I bought this book in a great but tiny used book store in Santa Fe, a fun place to browse if you ever have the time . . . I wish I could remember the name of it. Maybe Palace Avenue Books?