I'm proposing a book about David O McKay for June. It is longish, and I'm about halfway through. The 1st sixty or so pages alone would serve as enough fodder for book club conversation and are on google:
David O McKay and the Rise Of Modern Mormonism .
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
My Life as a Traitor: Two last thoughts?
So I went into Traitor expecting something like a cross between Elie Wiesel’s Night and The Kite Runner. Needless to say, Traitor did not live up to my expectations. Most of the time, I felt like I was reading the diary of a whining teenage girl who thinks she knows everything about the world because she’s read a lot of books.
I believe I read somewhere that she wrote the text (or translated it herself) in English, so maybe that’s the problem. I wonder if the story would be better in Farsi. (Although, it has occurred to me that maybe the best way to portray the experience of isolation in a prison is to bore the reader to death with stream of conscious. Given that the background chapters are so much more interesting, I wonder if she’s aware that she’s doing this.)
But, as evidenced by the fact that I finished it (and actually finished it rather quickly), it was still an interesting read. For instance, the portrayal of post-revolutionary Iran during the war with Iraq was new to me. For some reason, I think my mind had just lumped everything that occurred after the revolution into a big black hole.
At any rate, I’ve pushed off writing this for so long that I can’t remember all that I wanted to say. Perhaps that’s just as well, since this way I can ensure that what I’m only commenting on my lasting impressions from the book.
Here are the two lasting impressions that come to mind:
1) Like several of you, I couldn’t help but think “thirty days?” Are you serious? And as the story progressed, I found myself annoyed, frustrated, and embarrassed by how “weak” Zarah seemed. However, I couldn’t discount the fact that to Zarah, at least, this was suffering.
And then it occurred to me—this isn’t a story about torture or injustice. This is a story about being a woman. To a man, to Zarah’s male friends, for instance, 30 days in an Iranian prison wouldn’t mean that much. To really appreciate Zarah’s suffering, however, we have to be inside the mind of a female. And perhaps even more specifically, we have to be inside of the mind of an Iranian female.
The shaved hair, the possibility of permanent facial scarring, the isolation, the feelings of helplessness. I’m not saying I’d like to go through any of that, but to understand how terrifying these experiences are to Zarah, I think I would need to be female. More importantly, the prison is largely symbolic of a more general suffering. Her whole world is a prison. The clothes. The lifestyle. The rules. What scares Zarah most is the thought of the whole universe collapsing in on her until there is nothing left of her.
This brings me to a tangent. Yes, perhaps Zarah’s ideals lacks a certain “morality.” But is she really culpable in this lack of morality? The fact is, she hasn’t had the freedom to openly make the kind of choices she would like to make. So in her thoughts and dreams, she tries to obtain as much “freedom” as possible. The more radical the thought, the greater freedom she’s “obtained” in thinking it. And when a rare opportunity to express her freedom on the outside crops up, she takes it, to prove to herself that she has some degree of individuality. I wonder if, with more “freedom” on the outside, she might have more of an opportunity to develop a sense of morality that we Mormons would better approve of on the inside.
2) Why does Zarah seek to universalize her experience? I wish I had the book so I could draw some direct quotes here, but she qualifies too many of her statements with something like “like all men” or “no different than any other culture” or “as they always do.” She does this especially often with reference to people she dislikes: men, people in positions of power, and complicit women. It makes me distrust her as a narrator. Sure, there may be some similarities between Southern wives at a church social in Georgia and the complicit, completely-covered wives of Iranian business men at a party, but really, what does she know about Georgia? Or Nazi Germany? The more she tried to generalize her experiences, the more I distrusted her. The whole point of her narrative is that her experiences have a uniqueness to them, and I think she does a great disservice to Iranian women when she tries to dismiss that uniqueness.
Anyway, I’m done with East of Eden as well. I’ll save those comments for another day. Right now, I’m busy buying and fixing up a house, hopefully in time for the baby next month.
I believe I read somewhere that she wrote the text (or translated it herself) in English, so maybe that’s the problem. I wonder if the story would be better in Farsi. (Although, it has occurred to me that maybe the best way to portray the experience of isolation in a prison is to bore the reader to death with stream of conscious. Given that the background chapters are so much more interesting, I wonder if she’s aware that she’s doing this.)
But, as evidenced by the fact that I finished it (and actually finished it rather quickly), it was still an interesting read. For instance, the portrayal of post-revolutionary Iran during the war with Iraq was new to me. For some reason, I think my mind had just lumped everything that occurred after the revolution into a big black hole.
At any rate, I’ve pushed off writing this for so long that I can’t remember all that I wanted to say. Perhaps that’s just as well, since this way I can ensure that what I’m only commenting on my lasting impressions from the book.
Here are the two lasting impressions that come to mind:
1) Like several of you, I couldn’t help but think “thirty days?” Are you serious? And as the story progressed, I found myself annoyed, frustrated, and embarrassed by how “weak” Zarah seemed. However, I couldn’t discount the fact that to Zarah, at least, this was suffering.
And then it occurred to me—this isn’t a story about torture or injustice. This is a story about being a woman. To a man, to Zarah’s male friends, for instance, 30 days in an Iranian prison wouldn’t mean that much. To really appreciate Zarah’s suffering, however, we have to be inside the mind of a female. And perhaps even more specifically, we have to be inside of the mind of an Iranian female.
The shaved hair, the possibility of permanent facial scarring, the isolation, the feelings of helplessness. I’m not saying I’d like to go through any of that, but to understand how terrifying these experiences are to Zarah, I think I would need to be female. More importantly, the prison is largely symbolic of a more general suffering. Her whole world is a prison. The clothes. The lifestyle. The rules. What scares Zarah most is the thought of the whole universe collapsing in on her until there is nothing left of her.
This brings me to a tangent. Yes, perhaps Zarah’s ideals lacks a certain “morality.” But is she really culpable in this lack of morality? The fact is, she hasn’t had the freedom to openly make the kind of choices she would like to make. So in her thoughts and dreams, she tries to obtain as much “freedom” as possible. The more radical the thought, the greater freedom she’s “obtained” in thinking it. And when a rare opportunity to express her freedom on the outside crops up, she takes it, to prove to herself that she has some degree of individuality. I wonder if, with more “freedom” on the outside, she might have more of an opportunity to develop a sense of morality that we Mormons would better approve of on the inside.
2) Why does Zarah seek to universalize her experience? I wish I had the book so I could draw some direct quotes here, but she qualifies too many of her statements with something like “like all men” or “no different than any other culture” or “as they always do.” She does this especially often with reference to people she dislikes: men, people in positions of power, and complicit women. It makes me distrust her as a narrator. Sure, there may be some similarities between Southern wives at a church social in Georgia and the complicit, completely-covered wives of Iranian business men at a party, but really, what does she know about Georgia? Or Nazi Germany? The more she tried to generalize her experiences, the more I distrusted her. The whole point of her narrative is that her experiences have a uniqueness to them, and I think she does a great disservice to Iranian women when she tries to dismiss that uniqueness.
Anyway, I’m done with East of Eden as well. I’ll save those comments for another day. Right now, I’m busy buying and fixing up a house, hopefully in time for the baby next month.
Introducing Ivy Sophia Jones
Ivy Sophia Jones was born this morning at 6:45. Weighing a healthy 9 lbs. 3 oz., she's the largest of our children so far. These are pictures of friends and family meeting her for the first time today at the hospital.
Next challenge: squeezing three car seats in the back bench of a mid-sized sedan.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Me: He-Man or Pillsbury Doughboy?
It was better than I expected, though I was a little underwhelmed by her experience in prison. I might be softer than I think and break as Zarah did, but I honestly feel that I could endure the torture she describes. I could defy them if they handed me personal physical or psychological torture, but if those same threats were directed toward family or friends, I would fold much more quickly.
For me, the best parts of the book were her memories of life if Iran. It seems very culturally colorful. These parts of the book reminded me of a movie I saw a while back called "Children of Heaven." I don't remember if I saw it at the BYU International Cinema, but it is a fantastic movie that opened my eyes to Iranian culture. The country and the people are not full of conspiracy and hatred as some might have us believe.
I thought the ending was good. It seemed artsy, like the ending of a foreign film.
Well, that's it for this book.
I finished East of Eden. Can't wait to discuss it. Maybe I'll rent the movie to tide me over.
For me, the best parts of the book were her memories of life if Iran. It seems very culturally colorful. These parts of the book reminded me of a movie I saw a while back called "Children of Heaven." I don't remember if I saw it at the BYU International Cinema, but it is a fantastic movie that opened my eyes to Iranian culture. The country and the people are not full of conspiracy and hatred as some might have us believe.
I thought the ending was good. It seemed artsy, like the ending of a foreign film.
Well, that's it for this book.
I finished East of Eden. Can't wait to discuss it. Maybe I'll rent the movie to tide me over.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
My Thoughts on the Traitor
I thought this was an interesting read on several fronts, and the length fit well into my schedule. Thanks Jesse for picking it out. My book's already back at the library, so you'll forgive me for doing this from memory...
Did she Suffer? So for me, the most shocking part of the book was not any part about smelly guards, being beaten, isolated, or convicted without a trial. I was genuinely surprised when her sentence was pronounced at... 30 days in prison. The desert of despair she seems to have traversed, the heights of her pain, the depths of her introspection, her professed insight into human nature and the response to torture... all of this had me thinking in terms of months at least, possbly more. 30 days seems, well, short.
Don't get me wrong; I am not condoning what was done to her, and she did certainly teach me a lot about living in an Islamist state.
But I'm wondering what she would have made of the 35 days I spent as a Surgery intern last October. It was all there... sleep deprivation, verbal abuse, mental anguish, one's convictions called into question nearly with every moment. There was even a room barely large enough for a bed, with blankets stained by previous users, where you were relieved to be - if only for a 15-minute period before being dragged back to the Emergency Room by your pager. There's a great guy in my program who did surgery this month, and it's amazing the transformation in his countenance. This is the most trying month of his life, and it shows.
The thing is, it was still only 5 weeks and I left that month with 1)gratitude that I'm not one of these guys living that life for 5-7 years, and 2)an appreciation of how short 5 weeks really is. I had the same experience this January in the Intensive Care Unit - minus the verbal abuse.
After hearing the 30-day number, I began to reconsider whether Zarah is the one who really suffered that much. I was like "Wait a minute! It really isn't that big of a deal to have your head shaved, is it?" I thought mostly about all of the other people in the prison who don't have rich friends, those who probably suffered the torture Zarah only feared. Those are the people I would like to liberate.
Who is the Hero? I am intrigued by Peter's comments about the boyfriend (Benham?) being perhaps the most laudable of the characters. He certainly seems to have spared our protagonist the worst of what could have been. Benham and his peers probably do have the only course to lasting reform in a country like Iran; it seems a revolt/revolution would only lead to the next oppressive and dogmatic regime. Zarah clearly outlines the history of this very dynamic in Iran. Zarah also makes something of a hero (if not an effective reformer) for her willingness to do what she believes, no matter the obvious consequences which await.
I don't know what this says about me, but my hero became the prisoner upstairs - Sohrab. Assuming his story is completely true (wrongfully accused prior to the murder etc.) I find myself sympathetic with his plight. Well not the part where he goes out and kills a man, but right up to that. He was going to prison for no reason other than trying to do the right thing. Now here's a guy who has been in the prison far, far longer than Zarah's -- wait for it... -- 30 days, and he does still have enough humanity to help the inexperienced girl downstairs get through it all. Plus he's a doctor. Somehow for me, the most emotional part of the book was when she was leaving and she promised she would never forget him. I'm sure he's still in there, periodically shouting at the guards so he can change life's pace with a beating or two. He is also the character that leaves me wondering about what we do in America with killers, but perhaps that's a topic for another day.
I learned a lot about Iran, whatever else you might say about the story. This is mostly because I am starting from no understanding at all.
Zarah's Morality has already been eloquently described by previous posts. I can only say Amen. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that pink shoes and pretty hair are really just symbolic of the hidden wishes of an oppressed people who have seen nothing but tyranny and war. But her "let's all be friends and stop pretending there's a God" attitude does fail to resonate with me. I also don't sympathise with her desire to sleep with the professor any more than I do with Americans who want to have fun getting pregnant but keep babies out of it (also a topic for another day). I'm not going to impose any "laws against a man's beliefs," but Zarah's moral agenda in this book didn't change my belief that there is joy in living according to Christ's teaching - joy that can be enjoyed by anyone who will partake. I'm sure if I told her about this joy, she would answer as did so many French people who told me happiness (and spirituality) is a many-sided mountain, with many routes to the top.
Overall, I had a great time reading this book and am glad it was chosen. I guess my comments are mostly negative, but you don't need me to point out all of Zarah's good points - she already made them herself.
Did she Suffer? So for me, the most shocking part of the book was not any part about smelly guards, being beaten, isolated, or convicted without a trial. I was genuinely surprised when her sentence was pronounced at... 30 days in prison. The desert of despair she seems to have traversed, the heights of her pain, the depths of her introspection, her professed insight into human nature and the response to torture... all of this had me thinking in terms of months at least, possbly more. 30 days seems, well, short.
Don't get me wrong; I am not condoning what was done to her, and she did certainly teach me a lot about living in an Islamist state.
But I'm wondering what she would have made of the 35 days I spent as a Surgery intern last October. It was all there... sleep deprivation, verbal abuse, mental anguish, one's convictions called into question nearly with every moment. There was even a room barely large enough for a bed, with blankets stained by previous users, where you were relieved to be - if only for a 15-minute period before being dragged back to the Emergency Room by your pager. There's a great guy in my program who did surgery this month, and it's amazing the transformation in his countenance. This is the most trying month of his life, and it shows.
The thing is, it was still only 5 weeks and I left that month with 1)gratitude that I'm not one of these guys living that life for 5-7 years, and 2)an appreciation of how short 5 weeks really is. I had the same experience this January in the Intensive Care Unit - minus the verbal abuse.
After hearing the 30-day number, I began to reconsider whether Zarah is the one who really suffered that much. I was like "Wait a minute! It really isn't that big of a deal to have your head shaved, is it?" I thought mostly about all of the other people in the prison who don't have rich friends, those who probably suffered the torture Zarah only feared. Those are the people I would like to liberate.
Who is the Hero? I am intrigued by Peter's comments about the boyfriend (Benham?) being perhaps the most laudable of the characters. He certainly seems to have spared our protagonist the worst of what could have been. Benham and his peers probably do have the only course to lasting reform in a country like Iran; it seems a revolt/revolution would only lead to the next oppressive and dogmatic regime. Zarah clearly outlines the history of this very dynamic in Iran. Zarah also makes something of a hero (if not an effective reformer) for her willingness to do what she believes, no matter the obvious consequences which await.
I don't know what this says about me, but my hero became the prisoner upstairs - Sohrab. Assuming his story is completely true (wrongfully accused prior to the murder etc.) I find myself sympathetic with his plight. Well not the part where he goes out and kills a man, but right up to that. He was going to prison for no reason other than trying to do the right thing. Now here's a guy who has been in the prison far, far longer than Zarah's -- wait for it... -- 30 days, and he does still have enough humanity to help the inexperienced girl downstairs get through it all. Plus he's a doctor. Somehow for me, the most emotional part of the book was when she was leaving and she promised she would never forget him. I'm sure he's still in there, periodically shouting at the guards so he can change life's pace with a beating or two. He is also the character that leaves me wondering about what we do in America with killers, but perhaps that's a topic for another day.
I learned a lot about Iran, whatever else you might say about the story. This is mostly because I am starting from no understanding at all.
Zarah's Morality has already been eloquently described by previous posts. I can only say Amen. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that pink shoes and pretty hair are really just symbolic of the hidden wishes of an oppressed people who have seen nothing but tyranny and war. But her "let's all be friends and stop pretending there's a God" attitude does fail to resonate with me. I also don't sympathise with her desire to sleep with the professor any more than I do with Americans who want to have fun getting pregnant but keep babies out of it (also a topic for another day). I'm not going to impose any "laws against a man's beliefs," but Zarah's moral agenda in this book didn't change my belief that there is joy in living according to Christ's teaching - joy that can be enjoyed by anyone who will partake. I'm sure if I told her about this joy, she would answer as did so many French people who told me happiness (and spirituality) is a many-sided mountain, with many routes to the top.
Overall, I had a great time reading this book and am glad it was chosen. I guess my comments are mostly negative, but you don't need me to point out all of Zarah's good points - she already made them herself.
Nathan Hale she Ain't
Zarah as paper hero
I think this was the most surprising thing about the book to me. When Jesse chose it, I thought, "Great! A book about courage and the indomitableness of the human spirit." Yeah, that's not it at all. An uncharitable side of me thinks if Zarah's pink-shoe rebelliousness was really so important to her, why was she so able to throw it by the wayside? There are people who have suffered far worse torture than she did and yet remained true to their ideals. For me, it made the book an interesting story, but actually weakened my sympathy for the cause of Iranian dissent.
Of course, the more charitable side of me is simply horrified by what happened to her. This, I'm sure, was the intended reaction. By casting herself as just a normal person with normal likes and dislikes; just a college student who did nothing more than collect a few signatures, Zarah makes herself into the common (wo)man. She is at pains to do this throughout the book, from her descriptions of her family life to her infatuations with various boys to her adolescent admiration for her teachers. While this makes her more relateable, to me it defeated her larger purpose, which I think was to decry the injustice of her situation. Instead, it just made me pity her for making such naive, bad decisions. For someone apparently so naive to enter a collision course with a brutal regime seems, I don't know, inexcusably stupid. There I am being uncharitable again.
Value of suffering
I was talking about the value of suffering with a friend yesterday. I was comparing the different reactions of two families in my ward to diagnoses of terminal cancer. The first family lost a 14-year-old son, after years of sickness. Our ward really supported them, financially and emotionally, throughout the illness; but afterward they simply weren't able to get over the unfairness of the death. They drifted (back) into inactivity. On the other hand, there's a family now facing a similar trial; the father, who's probably five years older than me, has terminal cancer. In their case I've been astounded at the depth of change in their outlook on life. He and his wife both bear their testimonies of the beauty and truth of the Plan of Salvation.
Suffering is a crucible, and a refiner's fire, but I wouldn't agree that it's pointless for those who don't yet have wisdom, or courage, or faith as Zarah says. I don't believe such things are binary, that either you have them or you don't. Rather, suffering can develop your wisdom, courage and faith, or it can diminish them. And I believe that what it does to you is largely your choice. Not entirely, but largely.
Am I my Iranian brother's keeper
You know who I think was the hero of the book? The erstwhile boyfriend who got her released from prison and protected her while she was there. I wish there were a book about him. He's the one who supplied the student movement with funds; he's the one who actually demonstrated an ability (if not a will) to change things. Zarah casts him as blithely amoral, willfully blind to the injustices perpetrated by the regime, tacitly complicit. But he did more to advance their cause than the would-be revolutionaries did, and I think given the chance, he and his class will do more to actually change Iran.
So what does this have to do with being our brother's keeper? I guess I feel like we do have a duty to alleviate pain and suffering and injustice where we meet it. But as outsiders, to have any effect we need allies within the culture. If I were choosing an ally, it wouldn't be Zarah and her friends; it would be the moderate Iranians, like the boyfriend, who (pragmatically) have the means to effect a change and (ideologically) have the groundedness to understand how a change can best be effected.
I guess what I'm saying is this book didn't call me to the barricades like I expected it to. Rather it demonstrated to me the futility and the emptiness of the barricades. Of rebellion and transformation, I'll take transformation nine times out of ten.
Moral relativism
Zarah's mild embrace of Zorastrianism reminded me very much of the secular morality of our society. Try not to hurt people, enjoy beauty, don't be too sure of your own rightness. This is how people get along in a diverse society. They certainly aren't bad things. But when they are the only things, when there is no private conviction deeper than a superficial dedication to being polite, I think something's wrong. And I don't honestly believe that's the case in Zarah's situation; she has a dedication to those poets. They are her deeper morality. She glosses over what she really believes in, but I think you can back it out to some degree. She's a sensualist, dedicated to the beauties of the world around us. This shows up in her repeated references to Omar Khayyam, as well as more overt things she says. I guess it's really at the heart of her pink-shoes rebellion. Maybe it's more evident than I at first thought...but I felt like she chose to bury it to some extent (even though it's right there on the page) in order to make herself more common, more like everyone else (particularly the reader).
I think this was the most surprising thing about the book to me. When Jesse chose it, I thought, "Great! A book about courage and the indomitableness of the human spirit." Yeah, that's not it at all. An uncharitable side of me thinks if Zarah's pink-shoe rebelliousness was really so important to her, why was she so able to throw it by the wayside? There are people who have suffered far worse torture than she did and yet remained true to their ideals. For me, it made the book an interesting story, but actually weakened my sympathy for the cause of Iranian dissent.
Of course, the more charitable side of me is simply horrified by what happened to her. This, I'm sure, was the intended reaction. By casting herself as just a normal person with normal likes and dislikes; just a college student who did nothing more than collect a few signatures, Zarah makes herself into the common (wo)man. She is at pains to do this throughout the book, from her descriptions of her family life to her infatuations with various boys to her adolescent admiration for her teachers. While this makes her more relateable, to me it defeated her larger purpose, which I think was to decry the injustice of her situation. Instead, it just made me pity her for making such naive, bad decisions. For someone apparently so naive to enter a collision course with a brutal regime seems, I don't know, inexcusably stupid. There I am being uncharitable again.
Value of suffering
I was talking about the value of suffering with a friend yesterday. I was comparing the different reactions of two families in my ward to diagnoses of terminal cancer. The first family lost a 14-year-old son, after years of sickness. Our ward really supported them, financially and emotionally, throughout the illness; but afterward they simply weren't able to get over the unfairness of the death. They drifted (back) into inactivity. On the other hand, there's a family now facing a similar trial; the father, who's probably five years older than me, has terminal cancer. In their case I've been astounded at the depth of change in their outlook on life. He and his wife both bear their testimonies of the beauty and truth of the Plan of Salvation.
Suffering is a crucible, and a refiner's fire, but I wouldn't agree that it's pointless for those who don't yet have wisdom, or courage, or faith as Zarah says. I don't believe such things are binary, that either you have them or you don't. Rather, suffering can develop your wisdom, courage and faith, or it can diminish them. And I believe that what it does to you is largely your choice. Not entirely, but largely.
Am I my Iranian brother's keeper
You know who I think was the hero of the book? The erstwhile boyfriend who got her released from prison and protected her while she was there. I wish there were a book about him. He's the one who supplied the student movement with funds; he's the one who actually demonstrated an ability (if not a will) to change things. Zarah casts him as blithely amoral, willfully blind to the injustices perpetrated by the regime, tacitly complicit. But he did more to advance their cause than the would-be revolutionaries did, and I think given the chance, he and his class will do more to actually change Iran.
So what does this have to do with being our brother's keeper? I guess I feel like we do have a duty to alleviate pain and suffering and injustice where we meet it. But as outsiders, to have any effect we need allies within the culture. If I were choosing an ally, it wouldn't be Zarah and her friends; it would be the moderate Iranians, like the boyfriend, who (pragmatically) have the means to effect a change and (ideologically) have the groundedness to understand how a change can best be effected.
I guess what I'm saying is this book didn't call me to the barricades like I expected it to. Rather it demonstrated to me the futility and the emptiness of the barricades. Of rebellion and transformation, I'll take transformation nine times out of ten.
Moral relativism
Zarah's mild embrace of Zorastrianism reminded me very much of the secular morality of our society. Try not to hurt people, enjoy beauty, don't be too sure of your own rightness. This is how people get along in a diverse society. They certainly aren't bad things. But when they are the only things, when there is no private conviction deeper than a superficial dedication to being polite, I think something's wrong. And I don't honestly believe that's the case in Zarah's situation; she has a dedication to those poets. They are her deeper morality. She glosses over what she really believes in, but I think you can back it out to some degree. She's a sensualist, dedicated to the beauties of the world around us. This shows up in her repeated references to Omar Khayyam, as well as more overt things she says. I guess it's really at the heart of her pink-shoes rebellion. Maybe it's more evident than I at first thought...but I felt like she chose to bury it to some extent (even though it's right there on the page) in order to make herself more common, more like everyone else (particularly the reader).
Friday, March 27, 2009
Doug Signing In!
Hi guys! I have Facebook to thank for finding Alvin, who pointed me to the site. I have enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts and updates. It's amazing how 1 year together has translated into a lasting comraderie. I'm glad to take part. So here's me...Family - I married Becky Payne December 18, 1998; 3 months after getting off the mission. It's been a great decade since then. The kids are 7, 5, 3, and 7 months. They're a lot of fun.
Calling - Ward Organist and Perpetual Nursery Worker. None of my kids has been through nursery without my having been the teacher.
Job - Currently a first-year medical intern; Five years of radiology training is forthcoming.
Geolocation - Columbus, Ohio since 2004; will be Durham, NC until 2014.
Last 13 years in 100 words or less: I finished freshman year and moved back to my hometown for one last summer of work and wooing Becky before heading on my mission to Paris, France. (I did have Ryan Larsen as my zone leader for a few months while I was in the office.) As mentioned, I was married 3 months after the mission and back at BYU.
I graduated from BYU in Chemical Engineering , and took a job in Portland Oregon with Intel. I worked in their manufacturing branch on flash memory for cell phones, then later with the Pentium 4 when it was new. Sometime in there, I decided that medicine was really what I wanted to do with my life, so after 3 years we moved out to Columbus for medical school at Ohio State. Besides developing an understanding of what true college sports fanatacism is, I got a good medical education.
I now find myself at the end of the "intern" year, grateful for the legislation of an 80-hour workweek. I don't know how this was done by earlier physicians, at least not by those with a family. I will be moving in July to Durham, NC for Radiology training at Duke University. I have a 5-year course of study at Duke.
More About Me: In my luscious amounts of free time, I still get out for the occasional run, or spend some time at the piano. Our family enjoys road trips and visiting family and friends. Oh, and treats with Family Home Evening.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Traitor!
A quick read. I have a few small thoughts. I tend to skip over gruesome details, so every other chapter was a skim.
On writing:
I am sure that this book was written in two parts—one inside the prison and one before. Then the two parts were spliced together. I thought it made the book more palatable because the stories were so different. I wondered about chiasm. But the point? Maybe the following: Iran under “the primitives” is bad, torture is bad, but we can keep our humanity.
Was this book written by Hillman or by Zarah Ghahramani? I felt that, while the content of the book was obviously Zarah's, the writing was Hillmans. It almost seemed like the language had been forcibly simplified.
Suffering definitely eats away at her humanity. Jesse's quote, "It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing." While she was left feeling empty, I think the refiners fire left more than nothing. I don't know if she emerged ennobled. I do think it's typical for suffering to mature/weather us. I think she grew up—not that she was immature before, only that the prison aged her, tempered her activist rage into a more intelligible emotion that will likely serve to influence more people than otherwise.
This book “made me sad.” I suppose that was the goal, but I wish it had made me more angry. When I'm saddened, I usually don't do anything—depression for me leads to inaction. I have to be mad to take action against injustice.
On writing:
I am sure that this book was written in two parts—one inside the prison and one before. Then the two parts were spliced together. I thought it made the book more palatable because the stories were so different. I wondered about chiasm. But the point? Maybe the following: Iran under “the primitives” is bad, torture is bad, but we can keep our humanity.
Was this book written by Hillman or by Zarah Ghahramani? I felt that, while the content of the book was obviously Zarah's, the writing was Hillmans. It almost seemed like the language had been forcibly simplified.
Suffering definitely eats away at her humanity. Jesse's quote, "It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing." While she was left feeling empty, I think the refiners fire left more than nothing. I don't know if she emerged ennobled. I do think it's typical for suffering to mature/weather us. I think she grew up—not that she was immature before, only that the prison aged her, tempered her activist rage into a more intelligible emotion that will likely serve to influence more people than otherwise.
This book “made me sad.” I suppose that was the goal, but I wish it had made me more angry. When I'm saddened, I usually don't do anything—depression for me leads to inaction. I have to be mad to take action against injustice.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
My Life as a Traitor
Great reading recommendation Jesse! I found it well worth my time and I enjoyed the information I learned. I had to go online several times to learn about the historical events and religions and ethnicities I never had heard about before. I wish I knew exactly what Zarah's contributions to this book are versus what Robert Hillman's influence must be.
I felt sympathy for Zarah's imprisonment and torture and great joy in her release. I was grateful she was not raped. I admired the humor and relationship she had with Sohrab in spite of the circumstances. At times I was annoyed by her "I'm a princess"-attitude. A few times I was disappointed for her weakness and willingness to cave in to the interogators. Just like her, I imagine myself strong and unbreakable in the face of torture, but perhaps it is all a fantasy in my mind and I would succumb too.
A couple of recurring themes brought her complex story to simple terms, for example the issue of her desire for pink shoes and feeling the sun on her hair. I sense her desire was far far deeper, perhaps to the point of complete sexual liberation. Although the book led me to love her and want to protect her, I still wonder if she would be one of the girls in the LDS church who mock, in attitude and in practice, the old-fogey church leaders and the standards in the "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet. Here is what she said:
A couple of recurring themes brought her complex story to simple terms, for example the issue of her desire for pink shoes and feeling the sun on her hair. I sense her desire was far far deeper, perhaps to the point of complete sexual liberation. Although the book led me to love her and want to protect her, I still wonder if she would be one of the girls in the LDS church who mock, in attitude and in practice, the old-fogey church leaders and the standards in the "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet. Here is what she said:
"...in the Iran I grew up in, respect for Islam, admiration of its philosophical and spiritual core, was not quite enough. One was asked to practice superpiety. If I had grown up in a Calvinist state, in an orthodox Jewish state, in a fundamentalist Protestant state, (insert LDS state here) in any state that insisted on a severe expression of belief, I would have faced the same problems. ...I couldn't make myself believe that my salvation depended on following an ironclad set of rules that had the effect of placing the thrill and wonder of being alive at such a remote distance from my natural appetites."
That yearning to fulfill her "natural appetites" is what bothers me as I have been indoctrinated from my youth and I have a spiritual conviction that overcoming the natural man is godliness...yet thankfully our true religion also teaches that many "natural appetites" are God-given and are to be used in the right place and the right time, not completely avoided. She explains why she preferred the Zoroastrianism of her mother of the Islamic religion of her father: "There was nothing hard-line about them, nothing dogmatic. Zoroastrianism is not a proselyting religion." She simply wanted a religion that is easy to live that didn't make her feel guilty.
I disagree with the moral relativism I find in some of her statements. For example,
"The stories I read to my children will not by stories of martyrs. The rules I lay down for them will have nothing to do with sacrifices, nothing to do with an afterlife; the rules will only insist on courtesy, tolerance. Their obligations will be to find happiness, and preserve it."
I disagree with the moral relativism I find in some of her statements. For example,
"The stories I read to my children will not by stories of martyrs. The rules I lay down for them will have nothing to do with sacrifices, nothing to do with an afterlife; the rules will only insist on courtesy, tolerance. Their obligations will be to find happiness, and preserve it."
Perhaps her perspective is to be expected when she has been "forced" to believe in certain ways and to do certain things. My gratitude is renewed for a free country and a religion that recognizes the eternal principle of agency.
Her admiration of Western welfare systems turns my stomach.
This book satisfied my curiosity about the inner workings of Iranian leaders. They are what I expected them to be. The torture I expected. The hypocrisy I knew existed.
"Hypocrisy became a special hatred of ours - the hypocrisy of a government that awarded all sorts of treats to the people who endorsed its ideology, whether or not the endorsement was sincere, and withheld favors from those who voiced even the mildest criticism of those in power."
Her admiration of Western welfare systems turns my stomach.
This book satisfied my curiosity about the inner workings of Iranian leaders. They are what I expected them to be. The torture I expected. The hypocrisy I knew existed.
"Hypocrisy became a special hatred of ours - the hypocrisy of a government that awarded all sorts of treats to the people who endorsed its ideology, whether or not the endorsement was sincere, and withheld favors from those who voiced even the mildest criticism of those in power."
Over the last several years I had given up hope that liberty and democracy in the middle east would spring from the hearts of the people just as in the American Revolution. Zarah renewed some hope that there are people in the middle east that have some vision of liberty...maybe, just maybe there will be a Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, or Madison among them.
Interested at the conflict of being raised in a political environment opposed to her families beliefs. I wonder if my kids will grow up forced to embrace socialism at school and in public while at home I teach them about true liberty from the writings of the founding fathers, Bastiat, Ayn Rand, Ezra T Benson and J. Rueben Clark.
Interested at the conflict of being raised in a political environment opposed to her families beliefs. I wonder if my kids will grow up forced to embrace socialism at school and in public while at home I teach them about true liberty from the writings of the founding fathers, Bastiat, Ayn Rand, Ezra T Benson and J. Rueben Clark.
"I knew that all was not right when liberties I enjoyed at home vanished the moment I walked out our front door. A habit of questioning took root in me." "...the danger is that you will become what you do; that your silent sympathies will wither for lack of expression."
On the Culture of Grief
"Iranians feel grief very deeply, regardless of religion. Grief has its roots deep in our Persian past. The depth of our grieving has to do with the importance of love in our culture. ...And a death in the family was a catastrophe."
At first I asked myself, "What about their religious beliefs in the afterlife? Doesn't that give them comfort?" I quickly recalled that grief really is a cultural thing. In Argentina people really know how to grieve - long, hard, and passionately. I remember when one teenage kid in the ward got shot by other kids who stole his shoes. He was shot in the mouth with a .22 caliber and it blew out some teeth and exited his cheek. He was fortunate that the bullet didn't have a deadly aim. The ward testimony meeting the week this happened turned out to be a three hour funeral-like service with every member of the ward getting up and trying to out-do each others demonstration of grief. I saw more grief then than I ever saw related to 9-11. We Westerners just have a completely different grief culture. Admittedly ethno-centric, I like western grief better...it is far more productive. Perhaps our lack of western grief is a reflection of our lack of deeper love.
Interesting Quotes:
When discussing courtship in Iran, Zarah makes the statement "the essence of romance is often better preserved by constraints than by license."
"...the real theme of good poetry is liberty. I have never read a fine poem or story that condoned repression and rejoiced in the unfettered power of the mullahs."
"...as with almost all nations in time of war, those in power defined and redefined patriotic behavior."
Interesting Quotes:
When discussing courtship in Iran, Zarah makes the statement "the essence of romance is often better preserved by constraints than by license."
"...the real theme of good poetry is liberty. I have never read a fine poem or story that condoned repression and rejoiced in the unfettered power of the mullahs."
"...as with almost all nations in time of war, those in power defined and redefined patriotic behavior."
Monday, March 23, 2009
Am I my (Iranian) brother's keeper?
I do apologize for the delay in writing this post, and appreciate everyone's patience. Hopefully no one interpreted the delay to mean I would have anything particularly insightful to say here...
I generally liked the book. It was recommended to me by a friend of mine along with several others about Iran. I selected this one as it seemed most appropriate for this forum (in content, readability, length---yes this is a swipe at you, Karl). I didn't find it particularly well written, but that almost made it more endearing as it seemed more likely to actually have been written by the Zarah we get to know in the text.
My scattered thoughts:
1. Zarah as paper hero
I enjoyed the honesty with which Zarah confronts her own inability to live up to the hero she'd hoped she was or would be. As she is first brought to prison she romanticizes the strength with which she will maintain her composure, her clear head, her ideals and loyalties. She quickly learns how shallow her resolve truly was, and returns to this idea throughout the book. I of course couldn't help wonder how I would fare in such a situation, and how quickly I would forsake those same things. Her experience is far beyond anything I have endured of course and I do not wish to trivialize it. Yet even she "was not yet as Job". I am left feeling less secure in my own "core" beliefs and values and also more in awe of those who have endured much and yet remained true. And of course grateful that I have not yet had to find out the true strength of my convictions.
2. Impact of suffering
This is in part a follow-on to #1. Zarah writes about suffering:
"It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing."
It was interesting how quickly Zarah turned from dreams of escape and freedom to dreams of revenge and violence. I don't think this is just suffering---she was subjected to massive mental stress designed to "break her"---but suffering is certainly part of it. But the point of course is that suffering need not be ennobling. It is merely a "refiner's fire" that brings true substance to the surface. Is it an accident that when Zarah was alone she had nowhere to turn but her pain and her deranged friend in the cell above? Zarah throughout the book espouses a view of the world that is basically "humanist"---no God, just "be nice to everyone". Had she a relationship with God would it have helped sustain her in her trials?
3. Am I my (Iranian) brother's keeper?
The most difficult part of the book for me was to envision these events occuring today while I lounged about my comfortable house reading. Obviously there is suffering in the world, but there is something particularly troubling about suffering directly caused by men to other men. Some suffering "will always be with us"---that is the nature of this life. But this suffering need not be.
At one point in the book Zarah loses her blindfold while out in the hall and gets a brief glimpse at the size of the prison. She describes it as a "city within a city"---hundreds of doors leading to hundreds of cells populated by hundreds of people like Zarah. What obligation do I have to those people? Obviously there is a political dimension here: Bush saying that "freedom is God's gift to mankind" came to mind as I read. Do we as citizens have an obligation to direct our government to fight against the injustices perpetrated within other countries? As one who strives to generally separate my own morality from public policy this is not an easy question.
But the political dimension was secondary. Most primary I was left with a sense of alternating guilt/selfishness and helplessness. I wonder how naive I must be that I find this book troubling when I know its content to be representative of what occurs in so many parts of the world. Will I not one day have to answer when asked what I did for those like Zarah?
Looking forward to your thoughts.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Mid-march and I'm mad
I'm sure Alvin is reveling in March Madness, despite BYU's early exit. Are there other college basketball fans among us? I'm at best a passive consumer of the NCAA tournament, prefering to focus on preseason baseball (18 days until opening day! hot dog!)
Anyway, I saw this news article on an Irani journalist who killed himself (or was killed? who knows) inside Evin prison recently. It reminded me that we're middle of the month and no discussion of our book. I know Jesse's been very busy (how did that deal with the contractor work out, BTW?), so I'm willing to cut a little slack. But I'm still really interested in having the discussion; I liked My Life as a Traitor a lot, and I'm interested in people's thoughts.
So anyway, since we haven't had a "meeting" yet in March, and since East of Eden is, you know, LONG... I propose we just push the April discussion of East of Eden to May, and shove everyone back a month. Everyone okay with that?
Anyway, I saw this news article on an Irani journalist who killed himself (or was killed? who knows) inside Evin prison recently. It reminded me that we're middle of the month and no discussion of our book. I know Jesse's been very busy (how did that deal with the contractor work out, BTW?), so I'm willing to cut a little slack. But I'm still really interested in having the discussion; I liked My Life as a Traitor a lot, and I'm interested in people's thoughts.
So anyway, since we haven't had a "meeting" yet in March, and since East of Eden is, you know, LONG... I propose we just push the April discussion of East of Eden to May, and shove everyone back a month. Everyone okay with that?
Monday, March 2, 2009
April 2009: East of Eden
Being now a resident of California, and having spent a little touring/camping/driving time in Monterey and the Salinas Valley, I've decided it's time for me to revisit John Steinbeck. So I've decided upon "East of Eden" for our April book. Yes, I know it's long. Sorry. Deal with it.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Team of Rivals
First, since it is still February, let me say that the first few pages of John Barleycorn were great. With such a short book, I should have been able to make it through the whole thing, but the previous posts with regards to the book persuaded me that it wasn't necessary. However, I enjoyed the first few anecdotes, and it led to a couple of fun games I like to play.
The "At Least I'm Not" Game is always good to try when you're having a bad day. Whatever other faults I may have, it's nice to read something like Barleycorn and say, "Well, at least I'm not a drunk." And believe me, if I hadn't been born a Mormon, I'm quite sure I'd be a binge drinker. This leads me to other hypothetical, what-if games where I try to imagine what kind of drunk I would be, the angry drunk, the happy, outgoing drunk, etc. Some days I think I know all about what it's like to be drunk, like I know what it's like to be pregnant, but other days I realize that no matter how many books I read, I'll never have a clue about either one. Thank goodness.
So in all that time I wasn't reading John Barleycorn, I was listening to Team of Rivals. If you haven't heard it about yet, it's the recent book about Lincoln's political savvy, which has been not so sublty pushed to be an analogy for what President Obama is trying to do. Because of the desired connections between Lincoln and Obama, I am hoping to stir up some conversation on this blog about the two and about our President's first few days in office. Regardless of your views on Obama, the book is enjoyable, and I left with an increased admiration and gratitude for Mr. Abraham.
I've always had a perception of Lincoln as a good and wise President. This book only confirmed that. The angle of Team of Rivals was that Lincoln was also a political genius, very smart in the way he handled people with big egos without offending them, yet always leading and not letting these powerful men take control. In regards to his political savvy, I believe Obama is every bit as savvy as Lincoln was. Of course, Obama's political machinations (at least the ones that I am privy to) are often through the media, whereas the moves made by Lincoln were more personal, but still, I think those comparisons are reasonable.
The big difference was that Lincoln was a humble, honest, thoroughly good person that also happened to be quite politically savvy. Obama may or may not possess all of these great human characteristics, but they are not the ones that are the most outwardly visible or that first come to mind. Maybe in 200 years a historian will have insight into how honest and humble he was. Personally, I see Obama much like I see a lot of the 'popular' people I've known, very likeable but a bit condescending.
As for Obama's cabinet, he has certainly tried to put together a "Team of Rivals", with varying degrees of success. It should be noted that even Lincoln made some shortsighted appointments that he had to change in his first term.
Both presidents have/had big problems to deal with, which had been brewing for a long time but that came to a head as soon as they were in office. Lincoln did not have a lot of personal war experience, though that was the main charge that was thrown upon him as president. He had a better innate sense of war strategy than many of his generals, but he didn't do a particularly good job of choosing generals at the beginning of the war. Obama doesn't have a lot of economic experience, and I worry that he may be listening to the wrong economic advisors. I just hope we don't have to suffer through Civil War level losses before Obama finds his Ulysses S. Grant. And I hope Obama's goal really is to preserve the Union, not just to use a good crisis to push his agenda. We'll see.
The "At Least I'm Not" Game is always good to try when you're having a bad day. Whatever other faults I may have, it's nice to read something like Barleycorn and say, "Well, at least I'm not a drunk." And believe me, if I hadn't been born a Mormon, I'm quite sure I'd be a binge drinker. This leads me to other hypothetical, what-if games where I try to imagine what kind of drunk I would be, the angry drunk, the happy, outgoing drunk, etc. Some days I think I know all about what it's like to be drunk, like I know what it's like to be pregnant, but other days I realize that no matter how many books I read, I'll never have a clue about either one. Thank goodness.
So in all that time I wasn't reading John Barleycorn, I was listening to Team of Rivals. If you haven't heard it about yet, it's the recent book about Lincoln's political savvy, which has been not so sublty pushed to be an analogy for what President Obama is trying to do. Because of the desired connections between Lincoln and Obama, I am hoping to stir up some conversation on this blog about the two and about our President's first few days in office. Regardless of your views on Obama, the book is enjoyable, and I left with an increased admiration and gratitude for Mr. Abraham.
I've always had a perception of Lincoln as a good and wise President. This book only confirmed that. The angle of Team of Rivals was that Lincoln was also a political genius, very smart in the way he handled people with big egos without offending them, yet always leading and not letting these powerful men take control. In regards to his political savvy, I believe Obama is every bit as savvy as Lincoln was. Of course, Obama's political machinations (at least the ones that I am privy to) are often through the media, whereas the moves made by Lincoln were more personal, but still, I think those comparisons are reasonable.
The big difference was that Lincoln was a humble, honest, thoroughly good person that also happened to be quite politically savvy. Obama may or may not possess all of these great human characteristics, but they are not the ones that are the most outwardly visible or that first come to mind. Maybe in 200 years a historian will have insight into how honest and humble he was. Personally, I see Obama much like I see a lot of the 'popular' people I've known, very likeable but a bit condescending.
As for Obama's cabinet, he has certainly tried to put together a "Team of Rivals", with varying degrees of success. It should be noted that even Lincoln made some shortsighted appointments that he had to change in his first term.
Both presidents have/had big problems to deal with, which had been brewing for a long time but that came to a head as soon as they were in office. Lincoln did not have a lot of personal war experience, though that was the main charge that was thrown upon him as president. He had a better innate sense of war strategy than many of his generals, but he didn't do a particularly good job of choosing generals at the beginning of the war. Obama doesn't have a lot of economic experience, and I worry that he may be listening to the wrong economic advisors. I just hope we don't have to suffer through Civil War level losses before Obama finds his Ulysses S. Grant. And I hope Obama's goal really is to preserve the Union, not just to use a good crisis to push his agenda. We'll see.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Blast from the Past
I tracked down my pictures from freshman year. There were a few more than these, but they were mostly just me with a certain brunette girl who shall here remain nameless, and I didn't think anybody needed memories of that sort.
So, I hope you enjoy; I've listed the people in the pictures (when I knew them) below.
Homecoming Dance:
Back Row: Dave T, Jennifer, Beth, Dave W., Dave's Friend & Date
Next Row: Peter, Kristi, Sara, Chris F.
Next Row: Cat, Jared, Jared's date, Amy, Bob, Sara
Front Row: Alvin, Brian, Mary, Doug
Christmas Dance:
Back Row: Ryan, Doug, Karl
Next Row: Andrea, Alvin, Jeanette, Jesse, Jessica (?), Chris G., Sara, Wendy Ann, Kim (?), Kristi, Wendy
Next Row: Maggie, Jamie, Jeny Mindy, Cat, Heidi
Front Row: Laura, Avalie, Mark, Jen, Becky
Christmas Dance (Men Only):
Bob Alvin, Paul, Jake, Doug, Mark, Jesse, Ron, Dan, Karl, Ryan, Chris G.
Planting the Tree:
Dane, Scott, Karl, Alvin, Nathan, Peter, Jake, Paul
Thanksgiving Star Wars Marathon (back when there were only three):
Brian, Dave T., James, Peter, Doug, Dan's arms and legs, Aaron's eye.
Not pictured, but attended (I think): Dave W., Dane, Peter A., Byron, Jeremy, Jesse, Scottie, Alvin
Muscle Tee Power Pyramid:
Top: Ron
Middle: Jesse, Scottie
Bottom: James, Peter, Alvin
Playground Gladiators (Women Only):
Misty Allred, Kim Monte, Libby Farnsworth, Angela Hellwig, Laura Rawlings, Maggie Nakata, Laura Kimball, Laura Sneddon
Playground Gladiators (detail):
Laura never would have gotten by if she hadn't threatened Jesse never to kiss him again. I'm sure their five kids are particularly glad he let her by.
Playgroud Gladiators:
Laura R., Jesse, Angela, Misty, Me, Eric, Kim, Maggie, Cory, Alvin, Laura S., Libby, Bob, Laura K.
So, I hope you enjoy; I've listed the people in the pictures (when I knew them) below.
Homecoming Dance:
Back Row: Dave T, Jennifer, Beth, Dave W., Dave's Friend & Date
Next Row: Peter, Kristi, Sara, Chris F.
Next Row: Cat, Jared, Jared's date, Amy, Bob, Sara
Front Row: Alvin, Brian, Mary, Doug
Christmas Dance:
Back Row: Ryan, Doug, Karl
Next Row: Andrea, Alvin, Jeanette, Jesse, Jessica (?), Chris G., Sara, Wendy Ann, Kim (?), Kristi, Wendy
Next Row: Maggie, Jamie, Jeny Mindy, Cat, Heidi
Front Row: Laura, Avalie, Mark, Jen, Becky
Christmas Dance (Men Only):
Bob Alvin, Paul, Jake, Doug, Mark, Jesse, Ron, Dan, Karl, Ryan, Chris G.
Planting the Tree:
Dane, Scott, Karl, Alvin, Nathan, Peter, Jake, Paul
Thanksgiving Star Wars Marathon (back when there were only three):
Brian, Dave T., James, Peter, Doug, Dan's arms and legs, Aaron's eye.
Not pictured, but attended (I think): Dave W., Dane, Peter A., Byron, Jeremy, Jesse, Scottie, Alvin
Muscle Tee Power Pyramid:
Top: Ron
Middle: Jesse, Scottie
Bottom: James, Peter, Alvin
Playground Gladiators (Women Only):
Misty Allred, Kim Monte, Libby Farnsworth, Angela Hellwig, Laura Rawlings, Maggie Nakata, Laura Kimball, Laura Sneddon
Playground Gladiators (detail):
Laura never would have gotten by if she hadn't threatened Jesse never to kiss him again. I'm sure their five kids are particularly glad he let her by.
Playgroud Gladiators:
Laura R., Jesse, Angela, Misty, Me, Eric, Kim, Maggie, Cory, Alvin, Laura S., Libby, Bob, Laura K.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
John Barleycorn - It's Not MY Fault
To start: while I found the story itself interesting, I found the writing surprisingly tedious. Surprising because London's adventure writing (White Fang, Sea Wolf, To Build a Fire, etc.) is so riveting. I think the tediousness came largely as a result of him saying the same things over and over: not just the language ("purple passages," "nicely jingled," "chesty men," "white noise"), but the experiences themselves were repetitive. Perhaps that was part of the point; certainly he tried to point out in the section about his time on the sealer that all his travels ended in saloons, and he missed the bigger set of experiences. But literary ploy or not, it made for a fairly boring book (from a writing/narrative perspective).
Now for the philosophy: my biggest problem with London's perspective on the question of alcoholism is his complete lack of ownership over his own choices. Again and again, he makes the point that his alcoholism was inevitable. Anywhere he wanted to go, he simply HAD to drink. It was just the way. How unfair! Someone should do something about that. Utter rubbish.
In a way, he is like the anti-Man in the Gray Flannel Suit, the one who never comes to the understanding that true manhood lies in accepting responsibility for one's own actions. Interestingly, I remember being shocked at how much drinking Tom did in that book initially; but it tapered off as he began to accept responsibility for his decisions. Here, London never comes to that conclusion. He's like a child crying that it's not his fault he's a drunk; it's society's.
Consider the following passage: "heaven forefend me from the most of the average run of male humans who are not good fellows -- the ones cold of heart and cold of head who don't smoke, drink, nor swear, nor do much of anything else that is brave, and resentful, and stinging, because in their feeble fibers there has never been the stir and prod of life to well over its boundaries and be devilish and daring. One doesn't meet these in saloons, nor rallying to lost causes, nor flaming on the adventure-paths, nor loving as God's own made lovers. They are too busy keeping their feet dry, conserving their heart-beats, and making unlovely life-successes of theier spirit-mediocrity."
Now I'm a bit stung by this, perhaps, and perhaps that puts me in an uncharitable mood. But I would say that these are the great men; the ones who, despite the lure and temptation of the carnal life, resist for the good of themselves, their families, and their communities. They are men, and London is a child.
Consider further his accounts of public mayhem that he and his friends brought about while drunk. Never is it their fault; it's all due to John Barleycorn. And furthermore, never is there a word for those whose property had been destroyed. The Japanese restaurant owners whose establishment was destroyed by drunken Americans. No sign of regret or remorse on their behalf; only that London himself didn't get to see more of the wild Japanese town. The town that the "fire brigade" destroyed; never a thought, never a word. Just "how scary! I almost went into a whiskey-induced coma on the train! How unfair the world is to me!"
So I pity London (or at least his persona in this novel); not for his drunkenness, but for his utter inability to recognize the first and only lesson of manhood: responsibility. I think I quoted Lars and the Real Girl in an earlier post, but there's a great exchange that relates to this. Lars asks his older brother when he knew he was a man. This makes his brother evidently uncomfortable, but eventually he answers: "Well, it's not like you're one thing or the other, okay? There's still a kid inside but you grow up when you decide to do right, okay, and not what's right for you, what's right for everybody, even when it hurts... Like, you know, like, you don't jerk people around, you know, and you don't cheat on your woman, and you take care of your family, you know, and you admit when you're wrong, or you try to, anyways. That's all I can think of, you know - it sound like it's easy and for some reason it's not." When I think of "good fellows," it's men like these; they are the ones that I want to be around. Not the immature, whining, drunken man-childs that London so admires.
Now for the philosophy: my biggest problem with London's perspective on the question of alcoholism is his complete lack of ownership over his own choices. Again and again, he makes the point that his alcoholism was inevitable. Anywhere he wanted to go, he simply HAD to drink. It was just the way. How unfair! Someone should do something about that. Utter rubbish.
In a way, he is like the anti-Man in the Gray Flannel Suit, the one who never comes to the understanding that true manhood lies in accepting responsibility for one's own actions. Interestingly, I remember being shocked at how much drinking Tom did in that book initially; but it tapered off as he began to accept responsibility for his decisions. Here, London never comes to that conclusion. He's like a child crying that it's not his fault he's a drunk; it's society's.
Consider the following passage: "heaven forefend me from the most of the average run of male humans who are not good fellows -- the ones cold of heart and cold of head who don't smoke, drink, nor swear, nor do much of anything else that is brave, and resentful, and stinging, because in their feeble fibers there has never been the stir and prod of life to well over its boundaries and be devilish and daring. One doesn't meet these in saloons, nor rallying to lost causes, nor flaming on the adventure-paths, nor loving as God's own made lovers. They are too busy keeping their feet dry, conserving their heart-beats, and making unlovely life-successes of theier spirit-mediocrity."
Now I'm a bit stung by this, perhaps, and perhaps that puts me in an uncharitable mood. But I would say that these are the great men; the ones who, despite the lure and temptation of the carnal life, resist for the good of themselves, their families, and their communities. They are men, and London is a child.
Consider further his accounts of public mayhem that he and his friends brought about while drunk. Never is it their fault; it's all due to John Barleycorn. And furthermore, never is there a word for those whose property had been destroyed. The Japanese restaurant owners whose establishment was destroyed by drunken Americans. No sign of regret or remorse on their behalf; only that London himself didn't get to see more of the wild Japanese town. The town that the "fire brigade" destroyed; never a thought, never a word. Just "how scary! I almost went into a whiskey-induced coma on the train! How unfair the world is to me!"
So I pity London (or at least his persona in this novel); not for his drunkenness, but for his utter inability to recognize the first and only lesson of manhood: responsibility. I think I quoted Lars and the Real Girl in an earlier post, but there's a great exchange that relates to this. Lars asks his older brother when he knew he was a man. This makes his brother evidently uncomfortable, but eventually he answers: "Well, it's not like you're one thing or the other, okay? There's still a kid inside but you grow up when you decide to do right, okay, and not what's right for you, what's right for everybody, even when it hurts... Like, you know, like, you don't jerk people around, you know, and you don't cheat on your woman, and you take care of your family, you know, and you admit when you're wrong, or you try to, anyways. That's all I can think of, you know - it sound like it's easy and for some reason it's not." When I think of "good fellows," it's men like these; they are the ones that I want to be around. Not the immature, whining, drunken man-childs that London so admires.
Monday, February 2, 2009
March book
While I feel a bit sheepish selecting a book when I haven't been as active lately, I'm not one to argue with Peter's randomization algorithm. The next book is "My Life as a Traitor" by Zarah Ghahramani. The amazon link is below:
I have not yet read it (which is why I'm selecting it) and it may have some graphic (but accurate) violence. Read the reviews and if you decide it not worth your time, well, feel free to pass.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
What do you do with a Drunken Sailor
This is the first book clubber that I listened to instead of read. I'm glad I did, because the librivox reader was so terrible that I had to go back over and over chapters that reading I would have glossed over.
My Friend John Barleycorn
I agree that alcohol takes down social inhibitions, and can understand the camaraderie in drink. I imagine football games and Christmas Parties would have poorer attendance if there weren't any beer. The smell of most alcohol nauseates me personally, and while I find drunk people amusing for moments, I dislike spending very much time with people when they drink, not because I'm uncomfortable being a non-drinker, but because I prefer being with sober people.
Prohibition
I don't know how honest London was, but I think I agree with prohibition in the US. I think agency is a sacred thing, but I don't think alcohol should be legal. I know that when president Hinckley mentioned the repealing of the amendment he wasn't referring to prohibition, but to following our leaders. However, President Grant called Prohibition “the greatest financial and moral blessing that has ever come to humanity"; when the church ignored his council and voted to repeal the amendment, he said that some members who sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” seemed to add the words, “provided he keeps his mouth shut politically." I think this has implications today on other issues.
I believe that we should strive to make illegal things that the Lord has forbidden. While I find London's approach (summed up crudely: votes for women--they'll fix us right sober) a weak and infeasible approach, and while I think some of the results of prohibition were terrible, I believe in government with laws and consequences. I know, there are eternal consequences for disobeying the commandments, but it doesn't seem incongruous to me to have similar, but more universally enforceable laws on earth.
Great listen. For the next while, I'll have the Librivox reader's "John Barleycorn" ringing in my ears.
My Friend John Barleycorn
I agree that alcohol takes down social inhibitions, and can understand the camaraderie in drink. I imagine football games and Christmas Parties would have poorer attendance if there weren't any beer. The smell of most alcohol nauseates me personally, and while I find drunk people amusing for moments, I dislike spending very much time with people when they drink, not because I'm uncomfortable being a non-drinker, but because I prefer being with sober people.
Prohibition
I don't know how honest London was, but I think I agree with prohibition in the US. I think agency is a sacred thing, but I don't think alcohol should be legal. I know that when president Hinckley mentioned the repealing of the amendment he wasn't referring to prohibition, but to following our leaders. However, President Grant called Prohibition “the greatest financial and moral blessing that has ever come to humanity"; when the church ignored his council and voted to repeal the amendment, he said that some members who sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” seemed to add the words, “provided he keeps his mouth shut politically." I think this has implications today on other issues.
I believe that we should strive to make illegal things that the Lord has forbidden. While I find London's approach (summed up crudely: votes for women--they'll fix us right sober) a weak and infeasible approach, and while I think some of the results of prohibition were terrible, I believe in government with laws and consequences. I know, there are eternal consequences for disobeying the commandments, but it doesn't seem incongruous to me to have similar, but more universally enforceable laws on earth.
Great listen. For the next while, I'll have the Librivox reader's "John Barleycorn" ringing in my ears.
"Get Drunk," in elders quorum today
- Bob, I appreciated your comments. It brought to my mind memories of watching colleagues getting themselves humiliatingly drunk, of a classmate stepping in and saving me from having to decline an alcoholic beverage by simply saying, "No, Glenn doesn't drink," of tasting some apple cider that my wife's ancient grandmother had left on the porch more than a bit too long.
- why this book
⁃ I want so much to help him, offering myself as a lifeline to call whenever he gets a bad craving. But despite my desire and willingness to be there for him and my attempts at empathy, he knows that I just don't understand and there's only so much I can do. But he also knows that I really care, and that no matter what, even if he continues to fail, I will truly and always care.
⁃ A day or two after finding out about my friend's new vice, I stumbled across this book as I was searching Librivox.org for a new audiobook to listen to. And while I still don't understand what it fells like to be drunk and to lose my inhibitions (a different friend in vet school said that was his favorite part of alcohol), I believe I understand a little better how someone could find himself in the company of John Barleycorn.
- a little bit of insight into what drives people to alcohol
⁃ this book highlights the power of peer pressure, and how so many people drink, or at least start out drinking because of social expectation, not because it "tastes great" or is "less filling." Jack London claims to drink not because he craves it, but just because it's there: "John Barleycorn is with me because in all the unwitting days of my youth John Barleycorn was accessible, calling to me and inviting me on every corner and on every street between the corners." I think that is a lame excuse. It was accessible to everone else during his time, I would assume, yet not everyone else became blinded by the white logic.
- He says that he could quit whenever he wants, that he is a social drinker and that he is not one that is physiologically addicted to alcohol.
⁃ I think he is telling us the truth, but he is not telling himself the truth. In other words, he has convinced himself that he is the master of John Barleycorn and he is telling us honestly what he himself believes. But in reality he has gained a great dependence on alcohol. He even says that he cannot enjoy life without it. "I should not care to revisit all these fair places of the world except in the fashion I visited them before. GLASS IN HAND!"
- what are your thoughts about prohibition?
- In elders quorum today, the instructor read a poem entitled "Get Drunk" that talked about being passionate about like. And while I agree that it can be refreshing, and even empowering to drink deeply from any number of good things (work, music, literature, nature), one doesn't want to drink so much that one becomes a workaholic, or any other kind of -aholic. It seems evident that Jack London had an intense personality. He didn't do anything in a small way; consider how he drank and how he threw himself into his studies.
- One last thing, the Church has its own 12-step program that it has modeled off of AA and other addiction recovery programs. I went with my friend to a class and learned quite a bit. During step 3 we talked about agency. My thought during that discussion was how Satan does whatever he can from keeping us from turning our will over to Heavenly Father. By getting us addicted to any of a number of things, he takes away ones ability to choose, thereby preventing the individual from yielding his/her heart to God. My friend is continuing to attend the Church's addition recovery class and is making progress. I have thought that I might benefit from continuing to attend the class also. A family member of mine that went through this program said that she learned so much about the atonement from it. In a way, any repeated sin might be considered addiction.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Bob on Barleycorn
I just finished reading Jack London's autobiographical alcoholic memoir entitled "John Barleycorn". Although I've never indulged in the adventures of alcohol I found myself rather enjoying London's perspective and his style of writing. His memoir took me to the forbidden world of alcohol that I will never truly know, with all of its hearty laughter, depressions, self-justifications, poisoned states of mind, chesty man behaviors, and hail fellows well met. Surprisingly, I felt I could superficially relate...or at least I allowed myself to get into his mind.
I have observed the brotherhood of John Barleycorn in those with whom I have worked. I have witnessed the uniting power of the drink and the business accomplished under its auspices. Unlike Jack London, my current boss has loved the taste that bitter brew since he was a five year old stealing sips from his fathers glass. He proudly boasts of sneaking tall cans of beer out of the ranch supply house with a wink and a nod from the grisly ranch hands who welcomed the boys into the world of men. He now considers himself a connoisseur of lagers, whiskeys and ales. The darker and thicker the beer, the better he tells me. I have discovered that when I attend the infrequent happy-hour with co-workers that my abstinence and utter refusal to drink actually becomes endearing to those that have already tossed back a few. My non-judgemental fascination with the varieties and complexities of the various spirits and my incessant questions about them also amuse them. This always leads to jovial feigned attempts to get me to just try it out. They will often rejoice when I finish off bottle of Henry Weinhard's Rootbeer and order me up another as if I were a part of the true order of the drinking fraternity, yet I know I am a fraud and hypocrite as I am so unwilling to pledge. I'm sure I have emasculated myself in their eyes by not returning the favor of purchasing them a drink in turn.
My own life changing experience with ingesting an alcoholic beverage was when I was five our six years old. My father was remodeling a man's home in which every flat surface was cluttered and covered with beer bottles. My father explained that the man was hopelessly lost in the lies and warm embrace of John Barleycorn. My brother Carl and I began to clown around with the empty bottles doing our best impressions of drunkards. As I held one bottle over my tilted-back head pretending to guzzle it down, a couple ounces of beer that remained in the bottled seared right down my gullet. The taste was horrible and I vomited it out immediately. A green garden hose was connected the hose spigot on the front porch of the house which I used to repeatedly fill my stomach with water and spewed it up again to exorcise that demon rum from my belly. At the moment I swore to never have another drink and that is one commitment I am honored to still be keeping.
Another day, while still a young boy working on a construction site with my father and uncle, we were invited to Buster's Bar & Grill by a group of suppliers and subcontractors. My father and I were the only ones not to drink from brown long-necked bottles. As the men drank, they become extremely jolly and rather funny. I was amused and caught up in the raucous behavior, but very much aware of the effects of alcohol leading them to this happy state. The waitresses were provocatively dressed in tight fitting white t-shirts and bottom revealing denim mini-skirts. I remember one of them sat on my uncle's lap and they flirted away. I was self-righteously disgusted while at the same time secretly and prepubescently intrigued.
One final personal faith-promoting anecdote. During my construction management internship in Las Vegas there was an All-Hands Meeting held in the construction trailer every other Friday afternoon at three. The area manager brought a couple cases of beer and they were joyously passed around to quench the thirst on those sweltering hot summer afternoons. There were two or three of us Mormon party-poopers that were forced to endure the chesty men's abuses because of our teetotalism. To make it worse, no water was available for us to drink, so we sat through the meeting with parched mouths as the men around us become loose and foul. In a moment of clarity and inspiration I made my own plans for the next meeting. I would bring my own delicious beverage...oh that sweet nectar of the gods...Rootbeer. Unabashedly I plopped down a 24-pack of A&W Rootbeer on the center table and to my complete astonishment almost everybody ignored the case of beer and took to my rootbeers like vultures to carrion. As I left the meeting many thanked me for providing an alternative beverage and I noticed that the case of beer was largely untouched. Prior to my graduation from the BYU CM program, a recently returned intern from the same company related that the rootbeer had become a tradition for the Friday All-Hands Meeting. Sweet sweet triumph over John Barleycorn!
Back to the book...
London was extremely honest with himself in his memoir and it has led me down a path of deep introspection. I've been taken to the darker corners of my soul and it is actually helping me realign my priorities and to rediscover my standing before God. As far as the brotherhood that Jack could only find arm in arm with John Barleycorn, I have found a much deeper bond with the brethren I serve and serve with in building up God's kingdom.
I have observed the brotherhood of John Barleycorn in those with whom I have worked. I have witnessed the uniting power of the drink and the business accomplished under its auspices. Unlike Jack London, my current boss has loved the taste that bitter brew since he was a five year old stealing sips from his fathers glass. He proudly boasts of sneaking tall cans of beer out of the ranch supply house with a wink and a nod from the grisly ranch hands who welcomed the boys into the world of men. He now considers himself a connoisseur of lagers, whiskeys and ales. The darker and thicker the beer, the better he tells me. I have discovered that when I attend the infrequent happy-hour with co-workers that my abstinence and utter refusal to drink actually becomes endearing to those that have already tossed back a few. My non-judgemental fascination with the varieties and complexities of the various spirits and my incessant questions about them also amuse them. This always leads to jovial feigned attempts to get me to just try it out. They will often rejoice when I finish off bottle of Henry Weinhard's Rootbeer and order me up another as if I were a part of the true order of the drinking fraternity, yet I know I am a fraud and hypocrite as I am so unwilling to pledge. I'm sure I have emasculated myself in their eyes by not returning the favor of purchasing them a drink in turn.
My own life changing experience with ingesting an alcoholic beverage was when I was five our six years old. My father was remodeling a man's home in which every flat surface was cluttered and covered with beer bottles. My father explained that the man was hopelessly lost in the lies and warm embrace of John Barleycorn. My brother Carl and I began to clown around with the empty bottles doing our best impressions of drunkards. As I held one bottle over my tilted-back head pretending to guzzle it down, a couple ounces of beer that remained in the bottled seared right down my gullet. The taste was horrible and I vomited it out immediately. A green garden hose was connected the hose spigot on the front porch of the house which I used to repeatedly fill my stomach with water and spewed it up again to exorcise that demon rum from my belly. At the moment I swore to never have another drink and that is one commitment I am honored to still be keeping.
Another day, while still a young boy working on a construction site with my father and uncle, we were invited to Buster's Bar & Grill by a group of suppliers and subcontractors. My father and I were the only ones not to drink from brown long-necked bottles. As the men drank, they become extremely jolly and rather funny. I was amused and caught up in the raucous behavior, but very much aware of the effects of alcohol leading them to this happy state. The waitresses were provocatively dressed in tight fitting white t-shirts and bottom revealing denim mini-skirts. I remember one of them sat on my uncle's lap and they flirted away. I was self-righteously disgusted while at the same time secretly and prepubescently intrigued.
One final personal faith-promoting anecdote. During my construction management internship in Las Vegas there was an All-Hands Meeting held in the construction trailer every other Friday afternoon at three. The area manager brought a couple cases of beer and they were joyously passed around to quench the thirst on those sweltering hot summer afternoons. There were two or three of us Mormon party-poopers that were forced to endure the chesty men's abuses because of our teetotalism. To make it worse, no water was available for us to drink, so we sat through the meeting with parched mouths as the men around us become loose and foul. In a moment of clarity and inspiration I made my own plans for the next meeting. I would bring my own delicious beverage...oh that sweet nectar of the gods...Rootbeer. Unabashedly I plopped down a 24-pack of A&W Rootbeer on the center table and to my complete astonishment almost everybody ignored the case of beer and took to my rootbeers like vultures to carrion. As I left the meeting many thanked me for providing an alternative beverage and I noticed that the case of beer was largely untouched. Prior to my graduation from the BYU CM program, a recently returned intern from the same company related that the rootbeer had become a tradition for the Friday All-Hands Meeting. Sweet sweet triumph over John Barleycorn!
Back to the book...
London was extremely honest with himself in his memoir and it has led me down a path of deep introspection. I've been taken to the darker corners of my soul and it is actually helping me realign my priorities and to rediscover my standing before God. As far as the brotherhood that Jack could only find arm in arm with John Barleycorn, I have found a much deeper bond with the brethren I serve and serve with in building up God's kingdom.
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