The Week of Liver and Literacy

On Thursday night, the husband and I cashed in a gift card to a fancy French restaurant in our neighborhood. Over two and a half hours, we tasted eight courses paired with eight wines (plus a complimentary glass of champagne). I had some of the best beets of my life, but also tasted foie gras for the first time. Meat should not be a mousse. That is, unless you're eating a moose. 

On Friday night, we went to a Shabbat dinner at Repair the World. Facilitators led discussions over dinner about the enduring racial disparities in literacy achievement among students in Pittsburgh's public schools. The attendees at dinner represented a broad cross section of the community by race, religion, age, and profession, and we had a wide-ranging conversation about how the "invisible backpacks" that low-income and minority students bring with them to school translate into challenges in the classroom. 

I also had two conversations this week about financial literacy, one with fellow self-employed PhDs and one with a friend who is trying to meet some ambitious savings goals. And if we consider activism to be a metaphorical liver--responsible for cleaning up the toxins our presidential administration keeps throwing into our country's bloodstream--I also served up some liver on Wednesday when I helped publicize Bend the Arc's civil disobedience action at the Senate Building and again this afternoon when I joined Bend the Arc: Pittsburgh at the Women's March.

@bendthearcpgh out at #womensmarch2018 Pittsburgh #PowerToThePolls2018 pic.twitter.com/oV6XfCnhzw

— Avigail Oren (@HistorianOren) January 21, 2018

Here's what captured my attention this week...

I'm reading: I finished City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty, and honestly don't know how I feel about it. The ending was stronger than the beginning, but I am not sure I fully bought into the world that Chakraborty created. Speculative fiction/fantasy might not be my cup of tea. I have moved on to two new books. The first is As Bright as Heaven by Susan Meissner. my January Book of the Month pick, and the second is Harvey Pekar's Cleveland, written by Harvey Pekar and illustrated by Joseph Remnant. The former is historical fiction, the story of a family that moves to Philadelphia from a small town in the Lehigh Valley so that the father can take over his uncle's mortuary. I'm only 50 pages into it, but the book description promises that there will soon be a plot line about the 1918 Spanish flu. I'm enjoying how the author rotates the narrator's perspective between the mother and her three daughters, and the writing is stylish without being overwrought.

In the autobiographical comic Harvey Pekar's Cleveland, Pekar weaves anecdotes from his life together with the history of the city in which he was born and raised. My collaborator and I discuss the book in a digital history project that we are working on, and so I bought the Kindle version so I could have a portable copy to consult. I would actually recommend buying and reading this book on the Kindle because the new Panel View feature allows you to read the text frame-by-frame rather than page-by-page! It zooms in on the art and slows down your reading so that you focus more closely on each panel. 

I'm listening to: a great podcast called Successful Fashion Designer. I have no aspirations to become a designer, but a friend recommended the podcast to me because many of the fashion entrepreneurs interviewed by host Sew Heidi describe how they developed email and social media marketing campaigns to promote their new companies. Sew Heidi's intention with the podcast is to demystify the process of launching a design business, but many of the insights are translatable outside the fashion industry. The episode that I especially enjoyed listening to this week was #12, "Starting a Clothing Brand: Why (and How) To Build Your Audience First." Many of the networking, marketing, and fundraising strategies described by Untucked Workwear's Colleen Monroe really resonated with me because she stresses the value of interpersonal relationships and storytelling. And I confess that now I am totally obsessed with these pants from Untucked Workwear and cannot wait to buy my own pair. 

I'm watching: The new season of Top Chef! It's one of the few shows that Kevin and I can agree on, so we reliably watch it every winter. 

What are you reading, listening to, and watching this week? 

The Week of Slaying To-Do Lists

It was a big week. I sent out a newsletter filled with end-of-year updates about my business. I found out that a book which includes a chapter I wrote was finally published! I made headway on a Storymap project I've been collaborating on, I edited a journal article for a client, I reached out to a few businesses and organizations I would like to work with, I looked into a potential grant opportunity, I had several meetings with colleagues, I drafted a blog post for a social justice group I'm active with, I wrote a blog post for The Metropole and edited a few upcoming posts.... and I feel great! I'm invigorated and inspired by all that I am working on these days. 

Here's what captured my attention this week...

I'm reading: I finished Paul Goldberg's The Yid, which was underwhelming. I found the premise compelling, but the humor never resonated with me--I'm not yet enough of an alter kaker, I guess. I've now moved on to The City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty, which was my December Book of the Month pick. I would describe it as Game of Thrones, if GOT was set in the Middle East in the nineteenth century and you turned all the various Houses into djinn. There's also no incest and rape (so far), which is an improvement over GOT. It's well plotted and populated by some interesting characters, but I have a small complaint that's distracting from my enjoyment of the book: all the fictional proper nouns sound like the terrible made-up names I would have chosen back when I was writing fiction in elementary school. The capital of the djinn world is Daevabad, the tribe of East African djinn are Ayaanla, and one of the djinn languages is Divasti. It seems like the author took existing (mostly Arabic) words and just added extra vowels. That said, it's pretty awesome to read a Muslim fantasy novel--it freshens up what had become, for me personally, a tired genre. 

I'm listening to: my protest playlist while I re-read Dr. King's "Letter from a Birmingham Jail."

I'm watching: I finished the new season of Netflix's Ultimate Beastmaster, which was an absolutely mind-numbing delight. I'm now moving on to the second season of the equally mind-numbing and even more delightful Revenge Body with Khloe Kardashian, the first episode of which aired last night. I never got into The Biggest Loser and its spin-off training shows, but had to watch Revenge Body "for research" because I want to do a book project on the Kardashian family. The stories are inspiring! I now understand the appeal of these shows. 

What are you reading, listening to, and watching this week? 

The Week of Winter Weather

I took off two glorious weeks for the holidays, and spent the time reading, knitting, and cleaning what had become a very dirty house. I got back to work last Wednesday feeling organized and, if not energized, mentally fresh. Starting back to work mid-week was disorienting, however, and so although I should have written this post yesterday it did not really feel like the weekend. I just kept working through Saturday and Sunday. So here we are on a snowy Monday morning and I'm catching up on my weekend tasks.

Here's what captured my attention this week...

I'm reading: The Yid, by Paul Goldberg. The caper at the center of this novel takes place in the days before Stalin planned to purge the Soviet Union of Jews, and it brings together an unlikely cast of an old Jewish actor in the Yiddish theater of Moscow, an aging Jewish physician, and a middle-aged black American ex-pat engineer who also happens to speak Yiddish. I'm enjoying it for its twist on the story of Black-Jewish solidarity, fresh for its setting in the USSR in the 1950s instead of in the USA during WWII or the Civil Rights Movement. That said, I feel like I should have reread King Lear before delving into this novel; I remember absolutely nothing of that play, and I am probably missing significant or humorous references. 

I'm listening to: St. Vincent's new album, MASSEDUCTION. I'm going to see St. Vincent in concert tomorrow night with friends, an experience which I am greatly looking forward to because I have heard she puts on a memorable live show.

I'm watching: A new season of the Netflix original show Ultimate Beastmaster was just released for the pleasure of the viewing public. I watched the first season the weekend after handing in my dissertation; it was the least intellectually-demanding TV programming that I could find. Ultimate Beastmaster can be summed up as an international version of American Ninja Warrior. It's an epic obstacle course competition pitting contestants from six countries against one another for the title of--you guessed it--Ultimate Beastmaster. The cons: the rampant nationalism of the commentators and contestants, including inadvertently racist comments by the Chinese commentator. The course also clearly favors men (and particularly male rock climbers). The pros: who doesn't want to watch displays of human feats of strength? The show brings the adrenaline, yet you can pay zero attention and still keep track of what is going on. 

Everything is cancelled tomorrow and there is a new season of Ultimate Beastmaster on Netflix. 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

— Avigail Oren (@HistorianOren) January 5, 2018

What are you reading, listening to, or watching this week? 

My Top Ten Books of 2017

I set a challenge for myself to read 26 books in 2017—one every two weeks. I actually managed to read 27 this year, and perhaps even 28 if I finish Chip and Dan Heath’s Decisive before midnight tonight. This is no doubt the result of handing in my dissertation and finishing grad school, but my reading life was also invigorated by joining Book of the Month (BOTM). Half of my favorites for the year came to me as my monthly selections or optional add-ons. Although I read some great non-fiction and memoirs, I gravitated towards fiction—again, indubitably a reaction to the past three years of almost-total immersion in history books.

In reviewing my list of top picks, I noticed a few themes running throughout these ten books. Three of my favorite works of fiction were written by Asian-American or black authors, and offered commentary on the experience of immigration, heritage, and belonging/otherness in American and “native” cultures. Three books, interestingly, focused on adoption as a way to examine this latter theme. Unsurprisingly, considering the political events of 2017, both the fiction and non-fiction books I read concerned themselves with justice—how it is circumvented, contested, delivered, and measured. Finally, I read several books this year that I loved for their keen observations of the world and of the eccentric people who populate it.

Although the majority of these books were published in 2017, I have chosen this selection from the books I read this year regardless of their publication date. I have also included a few honorable mentions and two extra lists from some of my favorite readers (read to the end for the top ten picks in Children’s and Young Adult fiction by my husband, a fourth grade teacher, and the top ten of my friend Amanda Katz, herself a voracious reader). 

10. John Boyne, The Heart’s Invisible Furies (BOTM, August Selection)

I loved the first half of this massive novel about an adopted boy (Cyril Avery) who falls in love with his best friend (Julian) and spends most of his young-adulthood in the 1960s and 1970s coming to grips with his sexuality and his rejection by his friend, his family, and his country. It’s a bildungsroman, and I tore through the chapters about Cyril’s birth mother, his adoption and unconventional childhood, and his move to Amsterdam—a city more tolerant of gay love than repressive Dublin. I never quite warmed to the adult Cyril, however; although I found the evolution of his character believable, I no longer cared to read about him.

9. James B. Stewart, Tangled Webs: How False Statements are Undermining America: From Martha Stewart to Bernie Madoff  (McKay’s Books, Nashville)

I found a used copy of Tangled Webs on a shelf at McKay’s Books in Nashville in February, and because it’s a few years old now (published in 2011) it only cost a few bucks. The topic of lying under oath felt pretty relevant in February, and feels even more so now. "To elevate loyalty over truth,” Stewart presciently wrote, “is to revert to the rule of the tribe or clan, where power and brute force decide all conflicts." Stewart focuses on four case studies of prominent Americans who lied under oath and were convicted of perjury: Martha Stewart, Scooter Libby, Barry Bonds, and Bernie Madoff. I am constantly reminded of the book when I watch the news, particularly the Libby chapter (though I found the Martha Stewart and Bernie Madoff chapters to be the most enjoyable to read). These four cases were brought to justice, now let’s hope we see more indictments as a result of Mueller’s investigation. 

8. David Sedaris, Theft By Finding: Diaries 1977-2002 (BOTM, June Extra Selection)

I have seen David Sedaris read twice—I have a signed copy of Me Talk Pretty!—and both times he concluded by reading excerpts from his journal, and both times I nearly peed in my pants from laughing so hard. Sedaris is so perceptive of quotidian eccentricities, those things that we notice in passing but don’t bother to analyze beyond a shrug and a shake of the head. I haven’t been able to look at an IHOP without laughing since reading this book.

Yes, with my name spelled incorrectly.

7. Holly Tucker, City of Light, City of Poison: Murder, Magic, and the First Police Chief of Paris (Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh)

I interviewed Tucker about City of Light, City of Poison for the “Disciplining the City” series on the Urban History Association’s blog, The Metropole (which I co-edit). I knew nothing about seventeenth-century France before picking up the book. In reading about the “affair of the poisons,” a scandal amongst the French nobility that was uncovered by Paris’s chief of police, I recognized many parallels between policing and the justice system in seventeenth-century France and twentieth- and twenty-first century America. In both past and present the application of “justice” reflects society’s distrust of “others,” including women and the poor, often resulting in overzealous prosecution and wrongful convictions. 

6. David Grann, Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI (BOTM, August Extra Selection)

Grann’s book is a brilliant example of how to write fully-realized, complicated history for a popular audience. Killers of the Flower Moon is a journalistic accounting of the theft of the Osage Indian Nation’s oil wealth by white Oklahomans during the 1920s and 1930s. Grann spools out this story with great suspense, but never misses a chance to condemn the greedy, exploitative, traitorous white “friends” and neighbors of the Osage Nation nor the “justice” system that failed to protect the Osage and prosecute their killers.

5. Nathan Hill, The Nix (Gift from Judi Seal, purchased at The Ivy Bookshop, Baltimore)

I read The Nix the week after handing in my dissertation, and so I really got the full immersive, escapist experience this book demands and provides. As an urban historian specializing in postwar America, The Nix was catnip for me. The plot is pretty complicated, to the point where I will not even attempt a one-line summary, but half of the book takes place in Chicago in 1968 during the riots at the Democratic National Convention. The rest takes place in the present, when the protagonist is working as an English professor at a small college outside of Chicago. I am not exaggerating when I say that Part I, Chapter 4—the argument between the professor and his student, Laura Pottsdam, who has plagiarized a paper—is one of the greatest pieces of writing that I have ever encountered. 

4. Victor LaValle, The Changeling (The Ivy Bookshop, Baltimore)

I picked up this novel on my birthday, on the recommendation of one of The Metropole’s Members of the Week, Elizabeth Todd-Breland. She wrote of The Changeling that “It is a beautiful and thrilling novel that challenged me to be more imaginative in thinking about the space and genre of the city in the particular way that good fiction can.” I could not agree more with her assessment. Set in New York City, this modern-day fairy tale is a fantastic adventure love story about Apollo Kagwa, whose wife Emma Valentine and son Brian disappear after a series of mysterious events. LaValle weaves commentary about present evils into the warp and weft of his fictional evildoers, particularly racism, misogyny, and the oversharing culture of the Internet and social media. A creepy and clever read!

3. Lisa Ko, The Leavers (BOTM, May Selection)

Ko’s debut novel is a modern immigration story and an examination of foreign/interracial adoption. The protagonists are Polly and Deming Guo, a mother and son; after Polly fails to come home one day, Deming is adopted by a childless white couple and renamed Daniel. Although the liberal Wilkensons attempt to connect Deming/Daniel with his heritage, he is left with question about his mother and his past. Ko’s story follows Deming/Daniel’s search for answers, allowing her to explore questions such as: who defines you as a child? can you be “from” somewhere as a young immigrant, or are you always different or “between” places? can adoptive parents succeed in connecting their children to their heritage? I could not put this book down, and loved the experience of reading it, but I have also been surprised by how it has stayed with me and how often I think about the themes and questions it raises.

2. William Finnegan, Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life (Parnassus Books, Nashville)

Who knew I loved surfing? I had no interest in the sport before picking up Finnegan’s memoir, but I had heard rave reviews of the book. It did not disappoint. Like a strong undertow, Finnegan’s descriptions of waves, boards, buddies, family, cities, and travels completely sucked me in to his life and into the sport of surfing. For a while, my YouTube suggestions were all surf videos, because I would search for the waves he described surfing so that I could better understand what it was like to ride it. Finnegan is a keen observer of place, nature, the local politics of surfing spots, and the geopolitics of our globalizing world. With this blend of perceptiveness about the relationship between the natural world and human society, Barbarian Days reminded me a lot of Helen MacDonald’s H is for Hawk.

1. Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere (BOTM, September Selection)

Set in the liberal Cleveland suburb of Shaker Heights, Ng’s story follows the spiraling events that unfold after Mia, an artist, and her daughter Pearl move to town and befriend the Richardson family. The Richardsons have lived in Shaker Heights for generations and pride themselves on exemplifying the progressive politics of the neighborhood. When Mia takes sides against the Richardson’s family friends, who have gained custody of the Chinese- American baby of Mia’s co-worker and plan to adopt her, Mrs. Richardson begins uncovering some of Mia and Pearl’s own secrets. Like Ko’s The Leavers, LaValle’s The Changeling, and Boyne’s The Heart’s Invisible Furies, Ng uses adoption, race, and place to explore the relationship between heritage and belonging, tolerance and bias, and the tension between race-blindness and liberals’ own blindness to their complicity in “othering” and discrimination. Despite these heavy-hitting themes, Little Fires Everywhere is never didactic, and, in fact, it reads like a cross between a coming-of-age novel and a crime thriller. I absolutely loved it, and one of the highlights of my year was being retweeted by Ng herself when The Metropole ran a post about race and real estate in postwar Shaker Heights.

Honorable Mentions: Laurent Binet, The Seventh Function of Language; Roberto Bolaño, The Savage Detectives; Chris Hadfield, An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth. All of these were fun reads, but made less of an impression than my top ten did.

And, the bonus lists...

Kevin Seal’s Favorite Books for Young Readers Read in 2017

10. Rita Williams-Garcia, Clayton Byrd Goes Underground

9. Tom Angleberger, The Strange Case of Origami Yoda

8. Rebecca Stead, When You Reach Me [I also loved this one]

7. M.T. Anderson, Whales on Stilts

6. Casey Lyall, Howard Wallace, P.I.

5. Lisa Thompson, The Goldfish Boy

4. Lauren Wolk, Wolf Hollow

3. Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, Peter and the Starcatchers

2. Richard Peck, The Best Man

1. John David Anderson, Ms. Bixby’s Last Day

Amanda Katz’s Ten Favorite Reads of 2017

10. Denis Thériault, The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman

9. Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

8. Sy Montgomery, The Soul of an Octopus

7. John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

6. Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale

5. Nathan Hill, The Nix

4. Truman Capote, In Cold Blood

3. Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

2. David Grann, Killers of the Flower Moon

1. Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow

Leave a comment with your top reads of the year! 

Instagram Imperfect Life

The internet is awash with articles critiquing Instagram users for perpetuating the fallacy of "a perfect life." Accounts that post styled, staged, and filtered photographs of beautiful people and things attract the most followers, but also create the impression that life should and could be so elegant, photogenic, and organized all the time. Although awareness of this phenomenon has given rise to the #imperfect hashtag, the platform has not been overtaken by accounts highlighting the messiness of most people's lives.

I confess that I too would prefer to have a perfectly curated feed of beautiful sunsets, delectable meals, and stylish outfits--all of which have made appearances on my Instagram account. But recently I noticed that my photos have tended towards the exasperated, defeated, and messy aspects of my life. Unsurprisingly, this trend directly correlates with when I started my own business and began a semester of teaching two brand-new courses.

So, in the spirit of public service, I want to highlight these photographs from the rather unglamorous past few months of my life. 

"The dinner of a woman too tired to go to the store..."

"Came home from a long day to hot dogs, wine, and an ice cream sandwich."

Dinner in bed, 60-ish pounds of dirty laundry in the background. [Original caption: "Thank god today is over."]

"Breakfast this morning"

"Maybe we drink wine in bed too much?"

My commitment to my business and to my students has shifted my priorities towards client work and writing lectures, and away from meal planning and laundry. I do not photograph the hours I spend writing and editing each week--though perhaps I should--but I do regularly find myself standing in my apartment, agog at my failure to live up to the standards of adulthood. All I can really do is laugh, snap a pic, and get back to work. 

Do you also begin your days with coffee and end them with wine in bed? Do you also occasionally eat dinner leftovers for breakfast and cereal for dinner? More power to you. Life is hard.