Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Sin in the Second City, by Karen Abbott
I just returned from Illinois, and now I have a strange urge to demand a bribe and run for governor. Seriously, that is one weird state when it comes to politics. Oh, well. Instead, I will review a book about another kind of crime: prostitution. Sin in the Second City is the best book about prostitution that I have ever read.
Seriously, it put me in mind of a 1982 movie, Night Shift (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084412/), in which two enterprising young men help a group of prostitutes organize, resulting in them having health care, a savings plan, safety from the hazards of the street, and all the benefits of a “real” job. Turns out, this wasn’t an original idea. In fact, in the early 1900s, sisters Minna and Ada Everleigh opened a Chicago brothel that not only catered to the city’s elite, but also offered its “girls” health care, educational opportunities, gourmet meals, and safety from the hazards of the street. As author Karen Abbott explains, the Everleigh sisters treated their employees as professionals who deserved respect, an anomaly at a time when most madams routinely beat or even flogged their workers.
Abbott goes beyond the doors of the Everleigh Club to explain much about Chicago’s red light district, its politicians, and the reformers who demanded that the latter close the former. She was particularly strong at putting these events into context. For example, the reformers’ efforts to bring women out of prostitution acknowledged the role of economics, resulting in some of the early discussions of the benefits of a minimum wage. I found the book to be engrossing, and I recommend it.
As for animals, this was a time when horse-drawn transportation gave way to the automobile. However, just as there are technophobes today, there were people 100 years ago who feared the new invention. So horses are mentioned periodically in that context, as well as once more in which they suffered from a cold snap. Parrots were popular as brothel pets, and there is a fleeting reference to bestiality (not at the Everleigh Club, of course). With no additional mentions of animals, I am declaring this book SAFE for animal lovers.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Here If You Need Me, by Kate Braestrup
In this beautiful memoir, Kate Braestrup tells the story of her transformation from happily married mother of four to widowed chaplain for the Maine Game Warden Service. At first, it seems rather odd that Braestrup is following the career path that her policeman-husband had envisioned for himself. But it soon becomes clear that the two of them thought alike, and that becoming a Unitarian minister is as right for her as it might have been for her husband. Indeed, as she describes her ministry to search-and-rescue workers and the families of those who are literally lost, I have a hard time imagining her doing anything else.
Braestrup finds the humor in her family’s situation, and the children each become real to us, as do her colleagues in the Warden Service. I had some trepidation about reading this book since I have no religious affiliation, but it quickly became clear that Braestrup is simply a good, compassionate, and caring person who operates in the loose structure of the Unitarians. Her mission is often to simply “be there” for parents of lost children or colleagues who may be unsettled by the exigencies of their work.
There are lots of animals in this book. Grace and Tiki are search dogs, touching in their dogginess and their diligence. We learn that bears like to play with the skulls of dead humans, and horses are useful in searching the woods because they provide their riders with a good vantage point. There are enough sad moments that I will declare this book MOSTLY SAFE for animal lovers instead of entirely safe. Most of the sad moments are fleeting, however.
I do want to address what Braestrup says about deer hunting. In her explanation, she defends those who hunt for food, comparing it favorably to the process of turning cows into hamburger. The deer have good lives up to the point of being shot, she notes, and their food is organic. Most beef cattle in this country don’t meet those standards, and I have to agree with her. Having seen my grandmother kill and dress chickens and turkeys that we later ate, I’ve known since early childhood that meat is messy. And there are other arguments in favor of deer hunting, including overpopulation that in turn affects the balance of forest vegetation. Where I get stuck on hunting is the notion of killing something for sport or recreation. I can’t get past it. I don’t think people should enjoy killing anything, regardless of species.
Anyway, I thought Here If You Need Me was a lovely, thought-provoking book, and I recommend it.
The Christmas Post
First, don’t feed the reindeer or they’ll follow you around forever:
Second, some folks say “Jesus is the reason for the season.” I like Jack Black’s portrayal of Jesus in this little sketch about Proposition 8.
Finally, may you have as much fun as this dog.
I’ll catch back up in a few days.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry, by Kathleen Flinn
After losing her corporate job at the age of 36, Flinn decided to pursue a long-term dream: a degree from Le Cordon Bleu. Although the renowned French cooking school now has branches all over the world, Flinn opted to head to the original, in Paris. This book is about her experience there, along with the story of her courtship and eventual marriage.
Flinn pulled me in immediately. She made me care about how she did at the school, even though she never intended to use the degree professionally in a restaurant. She presented just enough detail about her fellow students, the chef/teachers, and others in her life to make these people seem multi-dimensional. Yet the various anecdotes about the people in Flinn’s life never distracted from the main storyline. Her descriptions were strong without being overloaded with extraneous verbiage. I felt like I might even recognize the rooms at Cordon Bleu were I to somehow find myself plopped down into them.
So this was a well-told, engaging book with a charming narrator. On that level, I recommend it.
However, this blog provides book reviews for animal lovers, and I’m going to have to deem it MOSTLY SAFE instead of completely safe, which is generous on my part. There are no animal characters, but Flinn doesn’t flinch from describing how we get from animals to meat. My farmer-grandmother killed poultry in front of me when I was a child, so I’ve seen it. But if you’re not used to that, Flinn’s descriptions might be a bit too much. The other thing is that the French eat a fair amount of rabbit and horse meat. Here in the United States, we consider rabbits and horses to be pets, which means they are a sort of “friend” – and we don’t eat our friends. So there are cultural issues here that might be hard for some to get past. However, if this kind of thing isn’t a deal-killer for you, and you want to know what it’s like to spend a year at one of the world’s most renowned demanding cooking schools, then definitely pick up this book. You’ll find it hard to set down.
By the way, this is the last of the books I read on vacation way back in late October, early November. Next post will be a Christmas Eve miscellany.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Sarah’s Key, by Tatiana de Rosnay
This book was promoted as challenging, haunting, sad, intriguing, etc., with comparisons to Sophie’s Choice. Despite my skepticism at such high praise, I found it to be all of those things. The story begins in a Paris apartment in July 1942, as the French police, in an effort to please the Nazis, go beyond what was requested in rounding up Jews for deportation. As in all Holocaust novels, difficult decisions are made quickly, and sometimes those decisions turn out to be mistakes. In this case, the difficult decision that shapes the book is made by a child, 10-year-old Sarah. Decades later, American transplant Julia Jarmond researches the round-up and uncovers a link to Sarah, a link that she pursues despite interference from her odious French husband.
The book moves quickly, and it’s hard to write a review without giving away too much. I found some of the situations to be more plausible than others, but aside from one huge coincidence, there were no distractions. Some of the characters were well-drawn and other (like the loathesome husband) were too one-dimensional. But these are quibbles rather than substantive criticisms. The book held my interest from beginning to end, and I had a hard time putting it down. On that basis, I will recommend it.
As for animals, a few pets are mentioned, including a dog who barks out a couple of well-timed and essential warnings. None of these pets come to harm, making this book SAFE for animal lovers.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of The High Road to China, by Kate Teltscher
This history of an 18th century British expedition to Tibet was a joy to read. Teltscher, who teaches at a British university, has written an engrossing book that conveys her own excitement in having found an engaging protagonist. George Bogle was one of the many young men who went to India to advance his career and make his fortune – though in his case, the motivation was to save the family estate in Scotland after a bank disaster. However, Bogle was unique in his openness and curiosity, making him the perfect emissary to take an appeal for trade to the Panchen Lama in Tibet. Bogle’s journals were key among the source materials Teltscher relied upon, though she also makes it clear that others, such as the Panchen Lama himself and a young Hindu trading monk named Purangir, were critical to the story, especially once Bogle became stuck in Bengal due to politics and other concerns.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here. At the behest of Governor General Warren Hastings, the 27-year-old Bogle took a delegation, including Purangir, to meet with the Panchen Lama in Tashilhunpo, Tibet. Bogle and the Panchen Lama formed an instant friendship, and their story is the most interesting part of the book. Purangir later became critical as a go-between on behalf of the East India Company and Tibet, while the Panchen Lama subsequently went on to Peking to meet with the emperor. To tell more would be to spoil the story. But this relatively brief account (268 pages) presents some endearing characters who just happen to have been historic figures. Many novelists fail to enliven their characters as well as Teltscher does here. I highly recommend this book, even if you seldom read non-fiction.
As for animals, the focus of this blog, there are a few sad incidents. The Tibetans used copious amounts of fur from wild animals they’d slaughtered, and Bogle enjoyed sport hunting, though this isn’t shown. Reflecting the time, there are assorted beasts of burden, the occasional pet, long-haired sheep, animals that don’t survive transport to be in private collections, and an ornery yak. I would say this book is SAFE for most animal lovers, but if you’re super-sensitive, consider yourself warned about the few sad moments. Otherwise, I think most people would enjoy reading this book as much as I did.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Garlic and Sapphires, by Ruth Reichl
Last year some time, a woman Dave works with had her wig fall off of her bald head while she waited for a Metro train. To the astonished child nearby, she blithely chirped, “cancer survivor!” before glaring at a gawking adult who should have known better than to stare. And this is the second thing I thought of while reading of Ruth Reichl’s entertaining account of her time as the New York Times food critic.
With her picture plastered all over the kitchens of New York’s better restaurants, Reichl had little choice but to plop on an assortment of wigs and otherwise disguise herself in order to get the same kind of service that her readers would experience. As she changed her appearance, her personality changed as well. Dressed as vibrant “Brenda,” she became charming and cheerful. Dour “Betty” brought out Reichl’s negative side. Et cetera, through a number of different styles of hair, dress, make-up, and behavior. And restaurant people responded differently to Reichl according to which character she was. None of this surprised me, but I was totally intrigued by it nonetheless. Reichl is a great storyteller, giving depth not only to restaurants and food, but also to issues concerning her family and NYT colleagues. She also includes some of her restaurant reviews (I loved her description of Tavern on the Green) and a few recipes. I highly recommend this book.
As for the animal aspect, there are some shrimp that are boiled and some cats that sleep on the bed, but really no animal characters. So this book is SAFE for animal lovers.
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Julie & Julia, by Julie Powell
Julie Powell’s account of her culinary death march through Julia Child’s classic Mastering the Art of French Cooking is hysterically funny, and you must read it if you haven’t already! I loved this book, largely because Powell never pretends to be anyone other than who she is, and she boldly asserts herself and her large personality with no apologies.
Powell starts off slowly, though, and it took me a while to feel fully engaged. That’s because Powell pretty much has to explain how she was depressed and searching for meaning in her life at the time she came upon the crack-brained notion of cooking 524 mostly complicated French recipes in 365 days (she didn’t even grant herself the luxury of a leap year). But the task, which she carried out despite a move, the East Coast power outage of 2003, insane co-workers, and a cat that decided to live in the ceiling, gave her a sense of purpose and helped her define herself. Having a loving husband who just rolled with the situation like a piece of algae in a stormy sea certainly didn’t hurt.
As for animals, no, the dog doesn’t die, but several live lobsters do, and it’s not pretty. If you are very sensitive to this kind of thing, you might want to skim or even skip the lobster chapter. Also, Powell’s brother gave her a pet snake when she was in college, and she occasionally has to buy mice for it. Otherwise, the cats are fine, and the Powells adopt a dog to celebrate her segue from blogger to author. So this book is Mostly Safe for animal lovers. Enjoy!
Does the Dog Die? A Brief Review of Black Elk in Paris, by Kate Horsley
I loved Horsley’s Confessions of a Pagan Nun, and therefore assumed I would at least like Black Elk in Paris. Instead, I was profoundly disappointed with this book. Whereas Confessions was haunting and thought-provoking, Black Elk seemed pointless, as if it were going nowhere. And yet it started off strong, with Madou Balise, a young woman in 1890s Paris, being held in a mental institution due to her imperious father’s inability to deal with female emotions.
Flashing back, we see Madou and her new friend/lover Choice (aka Black Elk) through the eyes of the third member of the triangle, Dr. Phillippe Normand. Dr. Normand occasionally dines with the Balise family, who are as dysfunctional as any family in literature, and takes short excursions with various family members, plus Choice. Maybe Dr. Normand is gay, or bisexual, or straight. Maybe Choice is overwrought at being unable to return to his homelands in America. Maybe Madou is free-spirited, though she seems mostly frivolous and indecisive. Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I feel grumpy because at the time I read this book, I’d had a long run of reading some excellent books but then encountered two duds in a row.
Anyway, about the animals: Madou’s sister Cecile carries around a small dog with the unfortunate name of Pee-Poo. She also gets involved in anti-vivisectionist activities, inspiring Dr. Normand to take an uncharacteristically bold step at one point. Choice recounts his sea voyage to Europe, during which some of the horses that were brought along died. Other than that unpleasant image, this book is SAFE for animal lovers.
