32: Young Men and Fire

Young Men and Fire
Norman Maclean
3 stars

If you aren't familiar with Norman Maclean, he is the author of A River Runs Through It, which you are more likely to be familiar with-- at least the movie version. I've read some of Maclean's other work, and this non-fiction book has been on my to-read list for years. I'm glad I finally checked it out, though it wasn't quite what I was expecting.

In 1949, a crew of 15 Forest Service smokejumpers descended on what they thought would be a routine fire-fighting operation in Mann Gulch, a remote location in the Montana wilderness. Two hours later, all but three of these men were dead. The real story of what happened in that gulch is what Maclean sought out to discover and record for posterity. On the surface, this book delves deeply into fire theories and wind speed and all sorts of things I would never have learned about had I not read this book-- but on a deeper level, this book is about life, and dying, and youth, and old age, and humanity. That may sound like a cliche, but it's true. Maclean wove quite a bit into his telling of this tale.

From a Goodreads summary:

These first deaths among the Forest Service's elite firefighters prompted widespread examination of federal fire policy, of the field of fire science, and of the frailty of young men. For Maclean, who witnessed the fire from the ground in August of 1949,  and even then he knew he would one day become a part of its story, it is a story of Montana, of the ways of wildfires, firefighters, and fire scientists, and especially of a crew, young and proud, who "hadn't learned to count the odds and to sense they might owe the universe a tragedy." This tale is also Maclean's own, the story of a writer obsessed by a strange and human horror, unable to let the truth die with these young men, searching for the last - and lasting - word. A canvas on which to tell many stories, including the story of his research into the story itself. And finally Nature's violence colliding with human fallibility.      Haunted by these deaths for forty years, Norman Maclean returned to the scene with two of the survivors and pursues the mysteries that Mann Gulch has kept hidden since 1949.  From the words of witnesses, the evidence of history, and the research of fire scientists, Maclean at last assembles the scattered pieces of the Mann Gulch tragedy; in his last work that consumed 14 years of his life, and earned a 1992 National Book Critics Circle Award.       The excruciating detail of this book makes for a sobering reading experience. Maclean -- a former University of Chicago English professor and avid fisherman -- also wrote A River Runs Through It and Other Stories , which is set along the Missouri River, one gulch downstream from Mann Gulch.

One of the most fascinating parts of the Mann Gulch story is a controversial decision made by the crew foreman when it became clear to him that he and most of his crew would not be able to make it to the top of the ridge ahead of the quickly spreading fire. He decided to light what is now known as an escape fire ahead of the fire coming up behind them, and lie down in the hot ashes to let the other fire pass over. He tried to get his crew to enter his escape fire, but in the chaos and fear, not a single one of them listened to him. As a result, all the rest of the crew (save two who had made it to the top of the ridge ahead of everyone) perished.  While escape fires are now recognized as a legitimate means to escape death in such situations, at the time of the Mann Gulch fire they were not. The foreman acted on instinct alone. How differently things could have turned out if his crew had followed his orders.

I noted in my Goodreads review of this book that I have come to the conclusion that Maclean's writing is an acquired taste. Some of it I don't connect with-- he uses a lot of imagery that doesn't resound with me. But he also, every now and then, busts out a gem that leaves me thinking. And so I keep coming back for more. This book, I'll admit, was kind of slow at times. There is one pretty technical section that I nearly didn't get through, just because I'm not that into the science side of fires. I was fascinated with the human side of the story, though, and that kept me going. I'm glad I finished it. It gets a solid three stars from me.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite parts, found at the end.

"I, an old man, have written this fire report. Among other things, it was important to me, as an exercise for old age, to enlarge my knowledge and spirit so I could accompany young men whose lives I might have lived on their way to death. I have climbed where they climbed, and in my time I have fought fire and inquired into its nature. In addition, I have lived to get a better understanding of myself and those close to me, many of them now dead. Perhaps it is not odd, at the end of this tragedy where nothing much was left of the elite who came from the sky but courage struggling for oxygen, that I have often found myself thinking of my wife on her brave and lonely way to death."

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking

Quiet, by Susan Cain, is a treatise on the often overlooked power of introverts. It begins by discussing how, over the last century or so, our culture has adopted extroversion as the ideal. One of Cain's most interesting claims, in fact, is that this new ideal causes a complete value shift wherein charisma overshadows character. Having established the cultural context, she then presents a mix of her own research with several psychological studies to share the reasons that we should value the introverts among us.

Because I consider myself to be something of an introvert, I found this book to be very relatable. One element I appreciated about this book was how Cain allows the definition of introversion to be a little loose. Introversion is not necessarily being shy. It is definitely not being anti-social. It's more of just enjoying the quiet, preferring to observe, and liking to really think things through. Interestingly, about 1 in 3 people are introverts (at least to some degree).


Cain really hits hard on the social stigma that is often placed on being introverted, especially in workplaces. Several studies have shown that, while extroverts are more likely to get attention, introverts have many strengths that get overlooked because they lack the extroverts' confidence and charm. A few studies on businesses and the economic crash of 2008 illustrate the virtue of balance. Extroverts are great at leading confidently and taking risks, but... they can be bad at listening to others and seeing warning signs. As leaders, introverts prefer to play it safe, and many prosper that way. Another skill introverts seem especially gifted at is gathering information and ideas from their subordinates. Companies that embraced and used the special talents of both personality types would have a great chance at success.


I really enjoyed reading about the studies that are being done in the field of personality psychology. Some studies indicate that whether we are more introverted or extroverted depends in a large part on how our brain interprets stimuli. Introverts tend to be highly reactive to stimulus, and seem to therefore prefer smaller doses of it; whereas, extroverts tend to be low-reactives who prefer to seek out higher amounts of stimulation. The really fascinating part, for me, was reading about how both personality types strive for the right balance of stimulus. When they find it, one study showed, whether through seeking more quiet or more noise, the levels of brain activity are almost identical.


Some of the more practical parts of this book give suggestions for introverts and for those who work with or have close relationships with introverts. Some of the ideas seem very helpful for bridging differences in personality and preferences. For example, a couple may agree to spend two weekends per month at home and two weekends going out so that each person's needs are met. However, as a teacher, I found Cain's suggestions for introverts in the context of education to be pretty implausible, for the most part. I think her suggestions to introverts for the workplace would be more applicable to introverted students than the ones she gives. But, that's me.


Overall, I would give this book 4 stars because it presented so much interesting information that is applicable in professional and personal relationships with introverts.

#23: Running for the Hills

Running for the Hills: Growing Up on My Mother's Sheep Farm in Wales
Horatio Clare
Rating: 3 stars

This is a memoir written by a man who grew up with only his mother and one brother on a sheep farm in rural Wales. And we're talking REMOTE, here. Out there. In the boonies.

Here's a brief sketch. Horatio Clare was born in 1973, in London. Before he was born, his parents met in London and got married. His mother, Jenny, got the wild desire to buy a farm out in the country and live there. His father desperately loved Jenny, and so went along with this scheme, doing everything in his power to make it work.

For quite a while, they still lived in London and only went up to the farm on the weekends. They slowly got to know their neighbors, some of them hilarious characters. They learned how to care for sheep, and this book spares no details. The beautiful landscape bewitched them all, and Clare's descriptions don't disappoint. He is a very gifted writer.

Ultimately, when the farm began hemorrhaging money and the Clares would not be able to sustain it without going into even more debt, Horatio's father tried to convince Jenny to leave the farm. She flat out refused. She chose the farm over her husband, and a life as a single mother over life as a family. This split took place when Horatio was still very young, and the memoir is laced with his regret and longing for the childhood with a father that he did not get to have.

How did I like this book? Well, the writing is Grade A, Top Choice. I love Horatio's words. I fell in love with the little sheep farm, the crotchety old neighbor Jack who really has a soft heart, the family's two dogs. It was an enchanting story to read.

But. Jenny's decision angered me. Jenny, for me, was not a sympathetic character in the least. I spent a lot of my reading wondering how she could be so selfish. Yes, I can understand to a certain extent her desire to raise her boys out of the world, on this remote sheep farm. I can admire her strength and tenacity. I really do think she did some incredible things. She learned sheep farming from scratch and really grew to love the animals as her own.

But to refuse to see reality, to let your husband walk away after he tries everything to keep your family together! And then to raise your boys to believe that he just up and left you. To tell them that he was selfish. My, my, my.

Above and beyond that, by staying on the farm, Jenny put herself and her two small children at great risk. The book doesn't try to sugarcoat things. Horatio and his brother Alexander were often underfed. There were many months when the money almost didn't or didn't make ends meet.

A single female in a rural area is very vulnerable, however strong she may be in other areas of life. More than once, Jenny was cornered and propositioned by a lonely/widowed farmer. It wouldn't have taken much for one of them to refuse to take her 'no' for an answer. She would have been powerless to stop him.

Furthermore, rambling around, over the hills at night during birthing time for the sheep had dangers all unique.  Had something happened to Jenny while her two young boys slept alone in their little shack, who's to say how they would have gotten help.

Add to that Jenny's affair with the husband of a friend towards the end of the book and you have a real winning mother figure.

Rant over.

If I can set aside my frustration with Jenny-- after all, this is a review of the book, and shouldn't be a review of Jenny's decision-making ability-- I really enjoyed this book. The story drew me in and I wanted to know what would happen to the Clares. As I mentioned, Horatio's writing is splendid. I have recommended this book to my own parents, mainly because I think my dad would love the writing and the descriptions of Wales, and my mom was raised on a sheep farm herself. If you think the story sounds interesting, by all means read it. You will likely not be disappointed.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother -- #22

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Amy Chua
Rating: 3 stars

I have very conflicting feelings about this book. I tried to let it stew over night so I would be more prepared to write this review today, but it only helped marginally. Ah. Where to even begin?

Amy Chua is the eldest daughter of Chinese immigrant parents. She wrote this book as a way of trying to explain what it is to be what she calls 'a Chinese mother,' though she readily admits that there are mothers (and fathers) of all ethnicities that have the qualities she is labeling Chinese. It's just that Chinese mothers are way better at it. And possibly were the first to ever act like that. Or something. Just look at all the Chinese kids who are super musical prodigies and ridiculously smart at such young ages! See?!

OK, joking aside, I completely acknowledge that there are TONS of extremely gifted and talented and hardworking Chinese youth. I will also acknowledge that it is very obvious that these youth, wherever they are raised, have different childhoods than what I'd call a typical Western childhood. I imagine that Chua's depiction of Chinese motherhood is accurate and that Chinese mothers really are the driving force behind much of the successes enjoyed by these prodigies. (I hope that the majority of these children are at least mostly enjoying the ride, and I hope that they are able to look back on their childhood and feel good.)

None of that is what I have a problem with.

My problem lies in Chua's attitude throughout this book. She is alternately a martyr and a saint, whimpering about how her life is so hard because it has to be that way, because she must be a "Chinese mother" and so she doesn't get to just have fun with her daughters like Western mothers. She must endure them hating her so that they will have a better future. She must have shouting and screaming and death threat matches with her second daughter who refuses to practice the violin... for six hours straight. She must literally call her daughter 'garbage' for being disrespectful, because that is what her father did to her and look how she turned out. Right?

Further, she is completely and unabashedly ethnocentric. She pulls no punches with this-- she thinks the Western style of parenting is lousy and creates lazy and ignorant adults. I think it's fine and well and good to think that the way you were raised is awesome, but when you let that bleed over into thinking that other parents are bad parents because they have play dates? Um, it's time to reevaluate. How about recognizing that different is not always worse? Sometimes it's just different.

Third. She claims repeatedly that she does everything she does for her daughters-- not a bit of it for herself. But I just don't buy it. Two examples stand out to me. The first is when her second daughter is slowly starting to rebel against the craziness of her Chinese mother. Lulu happens to play the violin, an instrument Amy selected herself and forced upon Lulu at a very young age, and one that Lulu happens to excel at. But by the time Lulu is 12 and 13, she is really starting to strain against her mom's method of parenting. She wants to be able to make her own decisions some of the time. And it is also at this time that Amy decides, of course, the next thing to do is force Lulu to audition for Juilliard's pre-college program-- a super exclusive and hard-to-get-into program for young musicians. Lulu isn't planning to become a professional violinist. She isn't planning to go to Juilliard. She is having a hard time even maintaining the drive to continue in her youth orchestra. Amy doesn't want any of those things for her either, but Amy presses onward, even though Lulu's private music tutors don't think she is ready. When people ask Amy why she is doing this, why she even wants Lulu to audition for the program, Amy has no answer. She doesn't know why she is forcing this upon her daughter. Huh?

The next scenario happened roughly around the same time, when the family took a vacation to Russia. There they are, the first afternoon, sitting in a cafe in Red Square. When Amy and her husband Jed decide to order caviar, Lulu says she doesn't want any. She's 13. That seems like a reasonable response, right? But Amy flips. She orders Lulu to eat it. She threatens Lulu. She tells her she is a horrible daughter. FOR NOT EATING ANY CAVIAR. Amy pushes Lulu so hard that Lulu breaks. She yells and throws glasses. She has had it. And then Amy gets up and runs away. Runs away, across Red Square. Because she was unable to force her daughter to eat a piece of caviar, and so she has failed at motherhood.

By this time, I am convinced that Amy is convinced that being able to control your children is what it means to be a good parent. And so she is continuously making decisions for her girls and just expecting them to do whatever she wants. Even eat some random caviar in the middle of Russia. That has nothing to do with her daughter's futures or how talented they are, yet Amy cannot handle them saying no to her. There is story after story where Amy just decides what Lulu is going to do, so many small things that wouldn't affect anything if she just let Lulu have her way, but she can't back down.

The good news is that by the end of the book, Amy has figured out that the Chinese mother method of parenting is not a good fit for Lulu. Her older daughter, Sophia, has no problem with it. She has always done as Amy asked and she has the honors to show for it. She has the personality for it. Lulu does not. And so Amy is finally able to transition into a slightly different style of mothering for Lulu. She even lets Lulu cut down on her violin studies so that she can pursue tennis, something she has chosen for herself. It is a pretty satisfying transition to watch (read), even if the journey is harrowing.

My main question after finishing this book is, what are Chinese mothers in China like? I know not all of them can be like Chua describes here. Is this mainly a Chinese-American way of mothering? It kind of seems that way. Is it because they feel like they have something to prove? At points in the book it seemed like Chua was leaning towards that idea, but she never comes out with it. So I don't know.

I thought the book was fascinating, even if it was infuriating at times. I think my jaw dropped more than a few times, reading about how Chua regularly treats her daughters. I have to give her credit for laying her life bare like she did. That can't have been too easy. She knew she would come under intense criticism when this book hit the shelves. The Western way of parenting is just so radically different-- honestly, I think a lot of Western parents (and children) would label abusive much of what Chua labels good parenting. Me? Well, I don't think Western parenting is perfect by any means. I certainly don't think Chua's method of parenting, whether you call it Chinese or not, is perfect by a long shot. As usual, the truth/ideal is somewhere in the middle.

I agree with Chua that most children don't/won't want to do something unless they are good at it, and they will not get good at it unless they work at it, and they don't/won't want to work unless they are good at it. It's a downward spiral. So, if you really want your child to excel at something, at least at the beginning you are going to have to be the driving force behind their practicing. I see the logic in that.

I don't, however, see the truth in the belief that if your child is not playing at Carnegie Hall by the age of 14, she hasn't succeeded. Or that if your child ever gets an A- she has dishonored her family. I'm just not going down that road. And I think Vivian is going to turn out fine. Play dates and all.

3 stars-- I liked it. Read it someday.

Book 12: Orange is the New Black

Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women's Prison -- "A compelling, often hilarious, and unfailingly compassionate portrait of life inside a women’s prison."


I find that one-line description pretty accurate for this book. The author, Piper Kerman, ended up incarcerated in Danbury approximately 10 years after the drug offense that put her there. By the time of her incarceration, Kerman was living in NY, engaged to the man of her dreams, and hardly ever thought about the wild days of her youth, days that had involved a "very brief, very careless dalliance in the world of drug trafficking." 

This book provides an inside look at what it was like for an upper-class white girl to spend 13 months in federal prison. From the surprised reactions her appearance provoked from almost everyone, to the many and varied characters she came across, to how her fellow inmates reacted to the Martha Stewart trial and the subsequent speculation about where she'd do her time, to the soul searching she did whilst behind bars, to ultimately coming face-to-face with the former friend who had ratted her out, Kerman doesn't hold much back. 


This book also made me think a lot about how much of the prison's space and resources are taken up by the incarceration of non-violent drug offenders, and whether that should be the case. Whatever your position is on that issue, this book may broaden your understanding.


I give this book three stars. It was a fun read, with mild language throughout. If you are at all interested after reading this description, I'd definitely say read it someday. 

The Professor and the Madman

Note: I finally finished reading Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day! Yes, the book I was supposed to have read for my January book club meeting. :) However late I am to that party, that was my sixth read and it was truly delightful. I endorse Elizabeth's review of that novel, found here.

My 7th book of 2012 is The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary, by Simon Winchester. I give it four stars. 

I don't think it's any secret that I am a big fan of the OED. It is one of my life's goals to someday own it. (I think I will wait until I have a majestic and impressive library in which to display the unabridged set of volumes.) So naturally, I was very interested in reading this book. Simon Winchester did a fantastic job of creating a book worth reading, going into the back stories of some very interesting characters, particularly James Murray and WC Minor. 

The compilation of the OED began in 1857. Clearly one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken, it was headed by an overseeing committee led by Professor James Murray. As the committee went about collecting definitions for use in the dictionary, Murray discovered that one man, WC Minor, had submitted more than 10,000. Interestingly enough, Minor, an American Civil War veteran, also happened to be an inmate at an asylum for the criminally insane. Curioser and curioser, indeed.

I have to say, after reading such a detailed account of all that went into the making of the OED, I am honestly surprised that it was finished. I am surprised that people agreed to participate in the first place and that it actually came about. What an undertaking! I loved reading about how they went about gathering volunteer readers to compile words and usage quotations from all sorts of books. I would have loved to be involved in that.

I also loved that this is a book one would do well to read with a dictionary by one's side. Here's just a smattering of some of the words you will come across: hugger-mugger, plaudit, encomium, decussated, redoubtable, amanuenses, genuflective, diktats, manque, desultory. Beautiful. I found myself wondering why so many of English's fantastic words are so rarely used these days. People just go for the easiest ones, I guess.

All in all, I really enjoyed this book. I have to say, though, if I weren't so interested in the OED and words in general, I may not have finished. Fortunately for us all, I am and I did. If you wouldn't put yourself in either category, you may want to pass. 

Oh, I should also note that this is not a read for the easily offended or squeamish. I won't go into specifics, but WC Minor was a very troubled soul. His life was not a very happy one, and certain events at the end of it were quite disturbing. I think it is no exaggeration to say that his work contributing to the OED brought him some of the only happy times in his life-- and I am just one of the many individuals who have benefited from that work.  

Ellie's Book #4: Longitude

Confession: I've had some crazy scheduling stuff come up recently so while I'm currently reading book #6, I'm a bit behind in my reviews, so I'll be playing catch-up in the next few days. I finished this book a little over a week ago.


Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time by Dava Sobel
****

My dad loves documentaries, especially of the National Geographic or Nova variety. This may be where a lot of his random trivia knowledge comes from; I know that the things I learned through osmosis while these programs were on in the house for much of my childhood certainly come in handy when it's Trivial Pursuit time. They also, incidentally, made me look like a huge nerd (yes, even more than normal) one time in eighth grade history class when I happened to be the only student who not only had heard of but also was able to tell about the German Enigma code machine from WWII. I had learned about the enigma machine while sitting on the couch in our family room downstairs, probably working on some counted cross stitch project (my nerdiness factor really isn't shrinking much here, is it?) as my dad watched a TV program on the code breaker. I think he also used the opportunity to tell me about the decoder rings he had loved in his childhood, but I may just be thinking of A Christmas Story.

Anyway. Most of the documentaries he watched have just kind of blurred together for me, but I do have a specific memory of once again sitting downstairs (only this time I was working on a puzzle, I think of a map of the USA—yeah, I'm never getting rid of the nerd label now) watching a documentary about the search for longitude with my dad. I also remember missing the end of it because I was rather young and my mom made me come upstairs to get ready for bed. So when I saw that the Kindle Daily Deal awhile back (we'll talk another time about just how much I adore the KDD) was a book called Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time, you can bet I 1-clicked the heck out of that deal.

And I loved this book. It's written as a popular account rather than a history, so while it is still historically accurate and well-researched, it moves along at a great clip, it doesn't get bogged down in footnotes and it's exciting and accessible. It almost reads like a novel in some places—you've got your problem that is threatening the existence of the kingdom; your plucky hero from somewhere obscure, fighting against all odds to save the day; your villains and antagonists who are bound and determined to throw every obstacle possible into the hero's way in order to win the glory for themselves; and somehow it all turns out right in the end. Throw in a handful of astronomers and watch-makers and you've got Longitude.

Most people don't realize in our era of GPS and Google Earth that in the early and not-so-early-at-all days of sailing, longitude was a major problem. Captains could determine latitude quite easily from the sun and the equator, but longitude was a different matter all together. Leaving aside the basic fact that people couldn't agree where the Prime Meridian should be in the first place, even once you started from the prime meridian you had no accurate way to measure your distance from it. This could lead to disaster at sea, from not knowing how close you were to shore, which led to a disastrous shipwreck of Admiral Sir Clowdisley Shovell's fleet on the Scilly Islands in 1707, causing a loss of 4 ships and 2000 men; or from losing time and supplies backtracking to find your destination, as in the case of Commodore George Anson, whose longitudinal delays in 1741 eventually led to the death by scurvy of more than half of his 500-man crew. These and similar disasters prompted Parliament to establish the Longitude Act in 1714, which formed the Board of Longitude to award a prize worth millions of today's dollars to the person who came up with (and proved!) an accurate method of determining longitude at sea.

Sobel's subtitle makes it seem as though this book is mostly focused on English clockmaker John Harrison, who eventually won the prize. However, the book's scope is a bit wider than the subtitle lets on, and Harrison's story is only one of the threads of the narrative. Sobel also chronicles several failed attempts, some of which are hilariously bad (one involving pouring "sympathy powder" on a wounded dog's tail at a set time everyday is particularly great, as is the one that proposed to anchor ships at various intervals throughout the ocean to set off fireworks and cannons at set times), and the aftermath of Harrison's inventions. All in all, this is an excellent and comprehensive-enough view of the longitude problem, and it was fascinating.

I loved Sobel's writing style, which was clear and succinct but also lyrical. I also have to applaud her choice of chapter epigraphs, especially the nod to Lewis Carroll's "The Hunting of the Snark" (and that was the last nail in my nerd coffin. Ah, well). My one complaint is that there were no accompanying pictures of the people or devices described in the book, at least not in my Kindle edition.

If you're interested in readable history and science (or even if you think you don't like history or science) and cool inventions and astronomy and unpleasant people with names like Rev. Maskelyne, do yourself a favor and pick up Longitude.

You Just Don't Understand

Rating: 5 stars.

I reread this book after having first read it almost 15 years ago. It is by Deborah Tannen, PhD. She is a well-known linguist that has been at Georgetown for years.

This book deals with the stylistic differences between genders in conversation, and how those stylistic differences play a large role in men and women misunderstanding each other in conversation.

Obviously, there are individuals (male and female) who both experience something different than she describes and who also converse in a way unlike the majority of their gender. She does make note of that multiple times throughout the book and isn't slapping labels on genders.

However, it is true, that men and women by and large see the world differently and experience the life differently, and thus have different motivations for conversation based on these different paradigms. There are patterns, based on gender. It was fascinating to reread this because, as I have a five year old daughter, I could see the patterns Tannen describes already emerging in my daughter, especially when she interacts with other five-year-old girls. I can see how I endorse and confirm them through my own behavior.

It also helped me to understand my husband much better. I came back to this book after all these years because I had the feeling that our true conflict was not about the topics we were trying to argue about. I had the feeling that our words were getting in the way, and that the way we interpret the messages and metamessages of language are very, very different.

A great read, even if it's not going to serve a practical purpose for you, because it's just plain interesting.