Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Reads 2021 Fiction

 As it turns out, the shallow end of the pool is, well, shallow.  In number of novels I read in 2021, in total, and, as you might deduce from that observation, in the even smaller number that I would highlight.

 

The prize goes to Linwood Barclay for Find You First (2021), a mystery novel that enthralled me from the very first page.   It considers the question, How might donations to a sperm bank to earn quick cash as a struggling student come back to haunt you as a millionaire victim of Huntingdon’s disease?  Enough said.

 

The Guersney Literary and Potato Peel Society, by Annie Barrows and Mary Ann Schaffer (2008) is a historical novel centered around the German occupation of the British island of Guernsey during World War II, the struggles of the residents and the role of books in their survival.  The book is in letter form.  Enjoy the film as well; you will recognize many Downtown Abbey alumni.  View or read first, it doesn’t matter.   Both versions navigate several complex themes with sensitivity and delicacy.

 

The Paris Library by Janet Skeslien Charles (2021)

I found this novel quite by accident while scrolling through Hoopla.   Set at the beginning of World War II, with a generational parallel narrative in 1983, the novel takes up the tangle of unexpected events that impact our lives, both in the present and in the future.  Great read.

 

Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens (2018)

The months I waited for my turn in the library’s wait list for this book were so worth it!  It’s a compelling narrative of a child coping with abuse and neglect, raising herself, essentially, making the most of each day in whatever way she can.  

 

Thanks for sharing my reading experience during 2021.  

Reads 2021 The Deep End of the Pool

Already, Reset 2021 has segued into 2022.  Phase 1 of this reset begins with the resurgence of my comatose blog.  What better way to plunge back into the pool than with the highlights of my reading life during the past year, in two parts.  Let’s jump into the deep end!  Non-fiction to start!

 

I read non-fiction to make some sense of complex subjects or mystifying trends around me.  This year, my selections seem to coalesce around four of those ideas:  

1.     the plight of Indigenous peoples in Canada, specifically, and around the world; 

2.     the word “deficit” as applied to the economy, especially around proposed funding for programs to support ordinary people; 

3.     the rise of individualism versus the common good; 

4.     appropriate action in that context.  

The following authors expanded my thinking in all of these areas.

 

Indigenous Peoples

Tanya Talaga in Seven Fallen Feathers, (2017)

No matter how much I read around Indigenous issues, I am always horrified at what was done and continues to occur.  Talaga’s book details the fates of seven Indigenous young people in Thunder Bay, Ontario.  In a sense, it provides the backdrop for the 2018 Massey Lectures, where Talaga focuses on the effects of intergenerational trauma and cultural genocide.  Her final reverberating question is, “Can the settlers and the Indigenous people come together as one and move forward in harmony?” (p. 315).  My response:  How can I contribute, as a settler?

The Jesuit Forum for Social Faith and Justice in Listening to Indigenous Voices:  A Dialogue Guide on Justice and Right Relationships (2021) provides not only a succinct and powerful history of Indigenous peoples in Canada, but focused suggestions on action to move past that legacy.  Apology is not enough, is the message.  This guide, available in French as well, invites the readers or participants to reflect on individual and collective pathways to decolonization and the meaning of re:indigenization.  

Dr. Blair Stonechild in Loss of Indigenous Eden and the Fall of Spirituality (2020), a history of Indigenous peoples from their perspective.  Full disclosure:  I have not yet completed this detailed, sensitive, frank and compelling account.  Even so, this volume has already connected so many dots for me from other reading, and deepened my understanding of Indigenous spirituality and my respect for it.

 

Deficits

Stephanie Kelton in The Deficit Myth: Modern Monetary Theory and the Birth of the People's Economy (2020)

This fascinating explanation in layperson’s terms of how the monetary system works helped me understand why the books of a country with monetary sovereignty, like Canada, that is, a country that is a currency issuer, are not managed like the books of household.  I learned the difference between resourcing a program and paying for it.  I was challenged to consider that inflation, not deficit, is the critical factor, both in its management and monitoring.  What surprised me most is that preoccupation with deficits, unwarranted, according to the author, in countries that issue their own currency, dissuades governments from spending enough to provide the necessities of life for all their citizens.  Now, with this additional perspective, I am much more able to assess the messages politicians and pundits diffuse.  In short, I am more autonomous, less likely to be manipulated by messaging.

 

The Common Good

Michael J. Sandel in The Tyranny of Merit:  What’s Become of the Common Good? (2020).  

Sandel offers an explanation for the polarization that manifests in so many areas of society.  He sees this polarization as an unforeseen and largely unacknowledged outcome of meritocracy, of people getting ahead based on whether or not they have “earned” their success, and of the system and criteria set up to define “earn” and “deserve”.  If even this brief description unsettles you, then this book is for you!  In clear, meticulous, and reasoned detail, Sandel lays out his argument.  The salient piece for me, in the end, is the need for not only distributive justice (equitable access to resources), but also contributive justice (“an opportunity to win the social recognition and esteem that go with producing what others need and value” p. 206).  When people don’t feel their work is perceived as an important contribution to society, they disconnect.

 

How Can I Help?

Joan Chittister in The Time Is Now:  A Call to Uncommon Courage (2019).

You can see, I’m sure, the controversy inherent in the areas of my reading.  Some of the perspectives the authors grapple with are not dinner conversation, or even any conversation, with just anyone.  They challenge existing paradigms, and challenged paradigms aren’t good for blood pressure.  So, what to do?  Having lived an activist life, Joan Chittister is well qualified to speak on the subject.  We need courage, she says, and not the plain ordinary variety, as tough as that is.  We need uncommon courage, the kind that marks key moments in one’s life.  What to do, for example, if we’re in a group where unfounded ideas are shared as certainty?  How do we navigate those waters fraught with the potential for hurt feelings and broken relationships?  She acknowledges that challenge, and offers a path forward:  “It is finding the courage to utter the first word of truth in public that takes all the strength we can muster.  It is learning to say, quietly, unequivocally, ‘I think differently about that,’ and then explain why.” (p. 54).  The reflections at the end of each chapter helped me to clarify my thinking on her ideas and lived experiences.

Douglas Rushkoff in Team Human by (2019)

Intriguing perspectives on the society in which we live.  In short, if we want change and justice, Rushkoff’s message is: “Find the others.”  Check out excerpts of this book in Medium.

 

Full disclosure #2:  I didn’t tread water in the deep end like this the entire year.  My mental health just couldn’t sustain that heavy reading.  So, at strategic moments, every now and then, I would take breaks from the continuous treading water by resting.  Fiction provided that space.  The second Reads post highlights my experiences in the areas of the pool where I could touch bottom.  

Thanks for sharing your precious time with me.