Abraham Verghese's bestselling book is long -- 650 pages or so. It spans 50 years in the life of Marion Praise Stone, who was born in Ethiopia with his conjoined twin, Shiva Praise Stone. They were the sons of a beautiful Indian nun who dies in childbirth and a brilliant British surgeon who flees, leaving twins Marion and Shiva (named after the Hindu god) to be raised by another physician and a nurse.
The brothers are mirror-image twins, identical in physical appearance only. In life, Shiva sees everything -- even the loss of his virginity -- from a biological perspective, while Marion sees the emotional elements of life. Both become successful surgeons, Shiva even brilliant. Shiva's career reflects one of the few times he was emotionally stricken by a young Ethiopian girl's plight.
As adults, the twins eventually meet their biological father. That's no spoiler. What brings all three together is, however, key to the novel's outcome.
Verghese is a physician, and his novel is none-too-short on medical terminology, description and details. Details to no end.
Cutting for Stone is a good book. I wept near the end. But I do believe I could have wept a bit sooner had Verghese kept his writing more concise.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
52 Loaves by William Alexander
So, you want to bake some bread. I mean, you want to go a bit more from scratch than popping open a can of Grand's biscuits or buying a loaf of bread at Kroger's and warming it up in the oven. Well, that's exactly what William Alexander wanted to do, except he wanted to re-create the perfect loaf of bread from scratch. And he decided to do so by baking one loaf per week for an entire year.
So, with a book advance in hand no doubt, Alexander took his quest to his kitchen, to an outdoor oven he constructed, to other states, to Morocco and even to a French monastery where he set up camp for a few weeks and gained a new respect for faith. Did I mention Alexander was a self-professed atheist? Did I mention that he agreed to teach the monks how to bake bread even though his only credential was a second-place baking prize in a fair contest?
Now, this would-be bread baker takes his task quite seriously. No Biscquick, no frozen loaves for this man. Why, he even tries to grow his own wheat! Granted, the wheat crop produces enough only for about one loaf of bread. And on a recent NPR program, he suggested most folks might not want to get quite that down to basics.
Alexander is also the author of the $64 Tomato. Both books take a self-effacing, humorous approach to his current project, whether it's growing Brandywine tomatoes or baking the perfect loaf of bread. He's a good writer and by now no doubt a good baker. He offers the reader a couple bread recipes, but be prepared to convert from the metric system.
So, with a book advance in hand no doubt, Alexander took his quest to his kitchen, to an outdoor oven he constructed, to other states, to Morocco and even to a French monastery where he set up camp for a few weeks and gained a new respect for faith. Did I mention Alexander was a self-professed atheist? Did I mention that he agreed to teach the monks how to bake bread even though his only credential was a second-place baking prize in a fair contest?
Now, this would-be bread baker takes his task quite seriously. No Biscquick, no frozen loaves for this man. Why, he even tries to grow his own wheat! Granted, the wheat crop produces enough only for about one loaf of bread. And on a recent NPR program, he suggested most folks might not want to get quite that down to basics.
Alexander is also the author of the $64 Tomato. Both books take a self-effacing, humorous approach to his current project, whether it's growing Brandywine tomatoes or baking the perfect loaf of bread. He's a good writer and by now no doubt a good baker. He offers the reader a couple bread recipes, but be prepared to convert from the metric system.
Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen
This memoir of a self-styled Mennonite who has "mainstreamed" is funny, serious and even educational all at once. Rhoda is a 30-something college professor working on her PhD who has just overcome a serious illness, only to be injured in a car wreck the same week her hubby dumps her for a guy he met via Gay.com. She shouldn't have been as stunned as she was, but the reader doesn't learn why until near the book's end.
In any event, these events lead Rhoda to go back home for a visit with her faithful Mennonite parents -- her ever-chipper, ever-cooking-in-the-kitchen mother and her very serious, quiet father who prays out loud at Denny's. They don't drive horses and buggies anymore. But they don't dance, they don't view keeping a woman's maiden name after marriage as an option, and they think a good mate for their daughter would be one of her first cousins.
Janzen does evoke a few laughs out of her parents' lifestyle and religion, yet she is not condescending. Her family and her former belief help her heal and give her reason to laugh again. She even meets a nice, very young Mennonite guy along the way. She is a tad less kind to her brothers who seem less tolerant of her mainstreamed beliefs.
Janzen also uses the book to inform readers about the Mennonite religion and its history. She tells us that the Amish broke off from the Mennonites because the Mennonites were just too downright "liberal." Yes, liberal! Even Janzen is aghast. For readers who might be considering a conversion to the Mennonite faith, she offers plenty of information on what to expect so they can't say, Well, nobody told me THAT was off-limits.
Read the book: It's one of those fun, informative, even heartwarming stories that can and really did happen.
In any event, these events lead Rhoda to go back home for a visit with her faithful Mennonite parents -- her ever-chipper, ever-cooking-in-the-kitchen mother and her very serious, quiet father who prays out loud at Denny's. They don't drive horses and buggies anymore. But they don't dance, they don't view keeping a woman's maiden name after marriage as an option, and they think a good mate for their daughter would be one of her first cousins.
Janzen does evoke a few laughs out of her parents' lifestyle and religion, yet she is not condescending. Her family and her former belief help her heal and give her reason to laugh again. She even meets a nice, very young Mennonite guy along the way. She is a tad less kind to her brothers who seem less tolerant of her mainstreamed beliefs.
Janzen also uses the book to inform readers about the Mennonite religion and its history. She tells us that the Amish broke off from the Mennonites because the Mennonites were just too downright "liberal." Yes, liberal! Even Janzen is aghast. For readers who might be considering a conversion to the Mennonite faith, she offers plenty of information on what to expect so they can't say, Well, nobody told me THAT was off-limits.
Read the book: It's one of those fun, informative, even heartwarming stories that can and really did happen.
The Peculiar Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender
I read this book after seeing a good review in, I confess, People magazine. I don't belong to the Jonathan Franzen literary snob school of thought. And if that turns you off, so be it. If we can get more people to read whether through reviews in People, book clubs on Oprah or reviews in the New York Times, what does it matter?
Bender's book was good but not as great as I had expected based on the story premise -- namely a girl discovers in adolescence that she has the "gift" of detecting the cook's emotions when she eats the chef's food -- even if that chef is her mother, hired help at the local bakery or someone from afar.
Gifts, of course, do not always bring happiness. Through this gift, the child in Bender's book soon realizes the mother she had thought was so content is anything but that. Years, time passes, and her mother's food yields a different emotion, one of happiness, for she now has a lover that no one else other than the daughter realizes.
Along the way, the girl's brother reveals he has a special "gift," too. His gift is even more amazing and yet disturbing. And then there's the father and his "gift." What is it? Should he find out and reveal it? Before you say of course, remember: There are some things we are better off not knowing.
Bender's book was good but not as great as I had expected based on the story premise -- namely a girl discovers in adolescence that she has the "gift" of detecting the cook's emotions when she eats the chef's food -- even if that chef is her mother, hired help at the local bakery or someone from afar.
Gifts, of course, do not always bring happiness. Through this gift, the child in Bender's book soon realizes the mother she had thought was so content is anything but that. Years, time passes, and her mother's food yields a different emotion, one of happiness, for she now has a lover that no one else other than the daughter realizes.
Along the way, the girl's brother reveals he has a special "gift," too. His gift is even more amazing and yet disturbing. And then there's the father and his "gift." What is it? Should he find out and reveal it? Before you say of course, remember: There are some things we are better off not knowing.
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