Top Ten Tuesday: Top Ten Books That Broke Your Heart A Little

Top Ten Tuesday is a weekly meme hosted by the bloggers over at the Broke and the Bookish. Book bloggers from all around create lists based on the chosen topics, and post links to the host blog to share our love of books. This week we’re looking at which books that broke my heart a little. I told my husband the other day how it feels like all I ever read are sad books, so this shouldn’t be too hard to write!

10. Unaccustomed Earth – Jhumpra Lahiri
A collection of short stories about Bengali immigrants and their tragic marriages.

9. The Time Traveler’s Wife – Audrey Niffenengger
I know, I know, it’s probably on EVERYONE’s list. But I sobbed and sobbed at the end and I bet you did too!

8. Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
Poor, poor Tess. It’s so awful the things that happened to her and that as the narrator says in the beginning, she hasn’t even a single friend to call her own

7. The Street with a Thousand Blossoms – Gail Tsukiyama
An epic tale that follows two brothers in Japan growing up in the shadow of defeat and starvation,  going on to lives full of tragedy

6. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan – Lisa See
The last chapters made me cry over the years of misunderstanding between the two friends, and it made me treasure my friendships even more

5. The Double Bind – Chris Bohjalian
Is there anything worse than familial abuse? My heart broke for Laurel and how deeply she had been wounded.

4. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother – Amy Chua
This may be a surprising choice to some, but I found it so sad the ways that her children collapsed under the pressure and their strained relationship with their mother, not to mention the fact that it’s a true story! My mother and I have a wonderful relationship based in no small part on her acceptance of me  faults and all, so this was thrown into even sharper relief trying to imagine having a mother like Amy.

3. Moloka’i – Alan Brennert
One little girl’s life is forever altered because of a disease. Even though it’s ultimately about the hope and joy she finds in her broken life, the grief was never far behind either

2. First Love - Adrienne Sharp
A ballerina almost past her prime, spending her life to gain someone’s fickle eye. A young male dancer desperately in love with her.  Consequences neither of them can see. So very, very good but so very sad, too.

1. The Road – Cormac McCarthy
If this one doesn’t break your heart a thousand times, I think you must be a robot

Learning to Bow

Book: Learning to Bow by Bruce Feiler

You would think actually LIVING in Japan would quell my thirst for Japanese books.  And you would think that after decades of the “foreigner travelogue”, there would be nothing new in the genre. Thankfully, Feiler’s book disproves both theories.

Most travelogues are usually filled with humorous anecdotes, funny misunderstandings, and detailed descriptions of weird/amazing foreign food. But Feiler differs in that his chapters are only predicated by an anecdote or vignette, then followed by thoughtful analysis and critique. This wasn’t just “hey here’s some funny things that happened to me in Japan once” but “here are some things that happened that made me think about these aspects of Japanese culture, where they came from, what the good traits are and the harmful ones,” etc.

Actually one of the things I liked most about this book was the author’s commitment to honesty. He didn’t try to sugarcoat the things that bothered him, and he wasn’t on a rampage to denounce everything Japanese. Most foreigners who actually live here fall into one of those two extremes, and it’s quite difficult to take a middle path. Yet Feiler does it consistently and gracefully. Especially telling was his struggles with the education system. Some foreigners find it bizarre and beyond comprehension, others praise it so loftily for its achievements that one has to wonder what school they visited. But Feiler is able to say, “look, the school system does a great job at teaching students to be dependent and to be good citizens. It also teaches them good math and science skills. But it’s not great at teaching them to be creative or to deal with people who are different from them.” Feiler provides an  accurate assessment of Japan in a heartfelt, sincere,  if somewhat critical, voice.  More foreigners abroad could learn to do the same.

He also covers a wide enough range of topics that the book branches out beyond the expected entries, yet it’s personal  enough that I instantly sympathized with many of his foibles, especially in the beginning chapters where, like me, Feiler was baffled by  intricate introduction theatrics and the emphasis placed on sports day. Traditional events, like cherry blossom viewing and New Year’s Eve are there, but so are the more mundane like bar hopping and a ski trip.

If you really want to know what it’s like to live as a foreign teacher in Japan, this is the one book you should read.  Feiler not only articulated in a better way than I could some of my own experiences with a Japanese school, but also the reasons why I don’t think I can call this country home forever.  He helped me recognize and name some of the misgivings I have about this place, but also reacquainted me with its charms when I was ready to pack up and call it quits.

A Tale of Two Minds

Book: The Invisible Gorilla by Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons

One of the things I adore most about my husband is his knack for selecting fascinating non-fiction books. He is particularly good at those books that purport to reveal secrets of the mind by analyzing how music or cupcakes or traffic shapes us far more than you’d think.

One such book I read recently was The Invisible Gorilla. The book’s main goal was to show how susceptible we are to so-called “everyday illusions” like thinking confident are more likely to be correct or that our memories of powerful emotional events are unalterable.

The main thrust of this book (other than to pander more caveman fairy tales at every turn) was to prove contrary to current popular belief, intuition is not always, or even mostly, more correct than logical analysis.

It was an interesting enough read, though with far too many chess analogies for my taste. I think it’d be e en more interesting to read it in conjunction with Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink. The books are equally grounded in science but posit contradictory conclusions about how the mind works. It would be fascinating to me to try to find with intelligent friends how to balance the paradox. Is intuition better in certain circumstances or in some decisions? When is the best time to use intuition vs. logic?

How the Hallelujah Chorus Restored My Interest in Music

Book: How to Listen to and Understand Great Music by Robert Greenberg

Even if you don’t go out of your way to hear great music, practically everyone in America today is familiar with Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus. As such, you might find it strange that such an overused, abused piece could restore vigor to my musical life, but it’s true.

After my thoroughly disappointing introduction to early opera, I was hesitant to keep plunging ahead through musical history. I was strangely unmoved by opera and unable to see what the fuss was about.

For a while I abandoned music history in favor of lectures on C. S. Lewis, but the 40 or so unheard lectures began to bug me.

Leave it to Handel (and Dr. Greenberg’s charisma) to get me back in the metaphorical saddle. I learned a lot in this lecture, like how its just Messiah NOT The Messiah, that it was written in English, the difference between an oratorio and a cantata, and that Handel played hookey in London until his boss back in Hanover took the English throne.

I also learned to listen for the different textures in the famous chorus (homophony, responsorio, fugue) and for the first time heard it “with my brain on.”

But perhaps the best thing I heard? That reconciling Christ and culture is a centuries old pursuit that sometimes produces beautiful results. You can be skeptical about the depth of Handel’s religious fervor, but even on the surface it’s easy to see Messiah is bringing operatic style and method to Christian content. And it’s not a shallow, half-hearted attempt either, unlike what I see as the main reason why I don’t read Christian literature (it’s not very good at it’s main function, storytelling). That Handel could produce great art that not only withstood fickle fashions but also expressed Christian content beautifully really gives me great hope in an age where good, watchable media is dominated by secularism.

Top Ten Tuesday: Great Book Club Reads

Top Ten Tuesday is a weekly meme hosted by the bloggers over at the Broke and the Bookish. Book bloggers from all around create lists based on the chosen topics, and post links to the host blog to share our love of books. This week we’re looking at which books I think would make great book club picks.  My mother-in-law asked me for suggestions a few months ago and I think the list I gave her was about 20 or 30 books deep! So I’ll try to keep my choices down to just 10.

10. Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay
Just when you think you’ve heard every story and cried every tear from World War II, this novel tells a truly unknown facet of that dark time with poignancy and authenticity.

9. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
I had no idea what I was stepping into when I picked this one up, but when I put it down I was spellbound. A must-read for all book lovers, especially for the way it plays with the relationship between reality and literature.

8. Genesis by Bernard Beckett
This is a great book for those who have never tried science fiction. It brings out all the highlights of the genre in a breathtaking, unforgettable story. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

7. The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
Somewhat of a cliche, I know, but I think this would be a great book to discuss in a group. You can talk about the goals you would pick, the strategies, what you hated, etc.

6.The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
A fantastic pick from the world of YA. It combines a great story, an incredible world, and a lot of suspense.

5. Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
A tragic classic that isn’t nearly as stuffy as you think it would be. I would be very interested to hear how modern women respond to Tess’ plight.

4. Madea by Euripides
A great choice to shake things up (when was the last time you read a Greek tragedy?), with some great themes like alienation and women’s rights.

3. Lost and Found by Carolyn Parkhurst
I’m not a big fan of reality TV series, but I found this story fascinating. All the different relationships, the well crafted characters, and the built-in suspense of who wins made me read this again and again.

2. A Good Fall by Ha Jin
I’ve never heard of a book club tackling a collection of short stories before, and that’s so sad to me. Many of them are just as interesting and compelling as a novel but take far less of a time investment. These were great stories about the Chinese immigrant experience, and I think it can really open born-and-bred American’s eyes about our country and culture.

1. The Girl with the Glass Feet
I think I probably spent 15 minutes trying to capture or express my love of this book, and nothing I came up with is good enough. I read this book years ago and I STILL think about it far more often than anything else I’ve ever read. It’s so beautiful, so achingly beautiful, and with such a wonderful blend of the fantastic and the ordinary.

6 Things: 6 Non-English Authors Everyone Should Read (in translation)

This list was inspired by my recent adventures in Soseki’s I am a Cat, which got me thinking about other non-American, non-English speaking authors I was delighted to find. There are some real gems out there! And no, sorry, Gabriel Garcia Marquez did not make my list. He was exactly as incomprehensible and difficult to follow in English  as I expected it would be if I tried to read in the original Spanish.

Of course I realize that an author in English is only as good as their translator, but as much as possible I try to give references to specific translations that were enjoyable.

1.  Natsume Soseki (Kokoro; I am a Cat; Botchan) - of course you would expect him to be on this list; he’s the one that inspired it!  Soseki was a Japanese writer living at the turn of the 19th century during a period of intense change in Japan, and he’s continued to be one of Japan’s most influential and continuously read authors. His prose is delightfully light and somewhat more straightforward than you might expect, but you do need to keep a dictionary handy at times. The translations I’ve read were Meredith McKinney (Kokoro) and Aiko Ito and Graeme Wilson (I am a Cat)

2.  Fydor Dostoevsky (The Brothers Karamozov; Crime and Punishment) – When I told a friend I was thinking of picking up The Brothers Karamazov, he warned me to stay away from Constance Garnett, pointing out the now famous quote by Joseph Brodsky: “The reason English-speaking readers can barely tell the difference between Tolstoy and Dostoevsky is that they aren’t reading the prose of either one. They’re reading Constance Garnett.” (I hear Vladimir Nabokov hated her, too). So I did a bit of research, and found there was quite a serious discussion of this very problem over at GoodReads. I’ll let you sift through their more educated comments, but if you’ve ever been scared of Russian literature before, let this be an encouragement you may just have a bad translator.

3.  Ha Jin (A Good Fall, Waiting) – A more contemporary author than the previous two, Ha Jin is an exceptionally fun Chinese author. I’ve read two of his short story collections and one of his novels. In each of them I found an easy, comfortable read that deceptiely hides some incredible emotional depth. My favorite and the one I recommend to my friends is A Good Fall, in which Chinese immigrants to the US struggle in various ways to balance the tension between mother land and adopted land.  Even more amazing, Jin writes beautiful English without a translator.

4.  Wu Cheng’en  (A Journey to the West) – Alright, in this case it’s the book more than the author I’m recommending. Journey to the West is not only one of the 4 Greatest Chinese Novels ever written, it’s also incredibly fun.  It’s an almost allegorical tale of how Buddhism came to China from India, sort of a Chinese take on Pilgrim’s Progress, but with much less talking heads and far more mischevious monkey kings. It’s also been a continuous inspiration in Asian countries, spawning new television, anime, and manga series every year (famously Saiyuki and Dragon Ball). But even if you aren’t an Asian affecianado, it’s a wonderfully different and charming read…though the original is several hundred pages long. I particularly liked  the “summarize for kids” version retold by Yun Chong-Pan.

5.  Natsuo Kirino (Real World, Out) - Another contemporary Japanese author. Kirino is one of Japan’s most well-known feminists, but she also captures beautifully teen culture in Japan. Far better than most YA/Teen writers in America, you won’t find any sparkly vampires or hunky werewolves here. You will, however, find a gateway into a fascinating aspects of Japanese society previously undiscovered. I loved Philip Gabriel’s translation.

6. Euripides (Medea, Orestes, Bacchae) - Oh, I do so love Euripides. He was my introduction to Greek drama and thanks to him I constantly seek it out. My favorite of his plays so far are Medea and Bacchae, which play with themes of women’s rights, alienation, racism (written over a thousand years ago, no less!), not to mention a sublimely skillful use of off-stage action to build horror and suspense.  Go out and find a good copy of Medea with plenty of footnotes and I promise it won’t be a disappointing weekend read. I really like David Greene and Richmond Lattimore’s translations.

I am a Cat, and I am Brilliant

Book: I am a Cat by Natsume Soseki

I think most honest readers are at least a little doubtful when reading “classics.” Sometimes they are wonderful delights, ringing just as true and wonderfully as they did so long ago (I’m thinking of you, Tess of the D’Urbervilles). But sometimes, can’t we all admit, sometimes they are just plain boring (I will never understand the world’s insistence on keeping Great Expectations on the classics list).

I’m particularly wary of classic works in translation. Imagine my manifold delight, then, in finding that Japan’s perennially favorite author, Natsume Soseki, was far from dreary, heavy, or difficult to wade through as I imagined he would be. I absolutely adored Kokoro and finished it in just two afternoons.

But, I’m not here to talk about Kokoro, delightful as it is. I’m here to talk about his magnificent I am a Cat, which I was happy to tote home last Friday from Maruzen. As the title suggests, the story follows a nameless stray kitten who finds himself begrudgingly allowed to live in the house of a teacher in Meiji-era Japan. The cat has all sorts of biting satire and criticism about humanity, and especially about Japanese society of that time.

I would probably love this book even if it weren’t set at the turn of the last century, but that added nuance makes it even more appealing to me. I’m fascinated with the Meiji era.  It was a period of intense, rapid change and tremendous tension. On the one hand, Japan has been forced into commerce, and thus communication, with Western nations, ending its long solitude as an island in exile under the Tokugawa shogunate. But this communication, this new relationship with Western countries, was a little embarrassing for Japan.  Suddenly they were seeing all kinds of new technologies that made them seem, well, a little backwards at best and barbaric at worse. So thus began a great period of “catching up” , importing almost without thought all kinds of fashions, manners, languages, and tools into Japan.

But at the same time, part of what I think makes Japan such a unique nation is its determination to “Japanize” imports. That is, to copy the outward form or outcome, but to fundamentally change the approach to reflect their particular values and methods. Thus a tension is introduced: even while trying to imitate the West, the Japanese as a whole still tried to retain important parts of their culture and Confucian heritage. It was, in my estimation, something akin to jumping from the Middle Ages to the Industrial Reformation, without any humanist-focused, individual glorifying Enlightenment.

And on top of these internal struggles, Japan can’t ignore that a country they have for so long admired, China, has been humiliated by the grossly unfair, unequal treaties forced upon it by Western powers. If that great country can fall, what chance does a small island nation with limited resources stand? I believe fervently that this mindset is what drove Japan toward its path of militarization and colonization leading up to World War II and all the atrocities both sides committed.

Anyway, putting history aside, what makes I am a Cat so brilliant, to me, is that it can somehow capture the essence of that time, the zeitgeist if I can be allowed to use such a preposterous word, into the very ordinary and everyday life of individuals in Japan, and a somewhat ornery cat who observes them with disdain. And not only that, but Soseki, at least in translation, has some wonderful turn of phrase. It’s a delightfully light read, and even whimsical at times,with a lightly sarcastic, slightly ironic voice faintly echoing Jane Austen or Jonathan Swift. Needless to say, I’m very much looking forward to spending more time with this amusing Mr. Cat.

Hospitality: Initial Thoughts and Key Questions

Book: Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition by Christine Pohl

Recently I’ve become fascinated with the idea of hospitality. Actually I’m very interested in courtesy, politeness, good manners, and kindness as well, and I’ve been “on the lookout” for quotes by famous people or Bible verses that speak to these things. For my Christmas present, my husband  let me purchase several books from Amazon.com (he really knows me!) and I picked 3 related to the Christian study of hospitality. I’m so excited about recovering this gift and skill back from lost ages!

From finishing just the first chapter in Making Room, I can tell this book is going to be wonderful. It’s marked up, highlighted, and jotted in like nothing else I’ve read since Nancy Pearcey’s Total Truth (and, nota bena, if you haven’t read that fantastic title, I suggest you stop everything and go get it immediately). 

Even Pohl’s definitely of hospitality has intrigued me. I have always thought of it as welcoming someone into your home; friends of course, but also welcoming returning family members back to the safe haven of home, and strangers when possible.But Pohl seems to agree with the early church fathers that true hospitality only occurs when we provide food, shelter, and comfort to “the least among you”, strangers, homeless, refugees, etc. I wonder if there is room for both? Or if one is greater/should have greater precedence?
Pohl also outlined some key questions in her opening chapter I hope she answers. Questions such as:If hospitality was so important to the early church, why and how did it get lost in later centuries?
Can some forms of hospitality humiliate instead of lift up?
Why is eating together so important?
What about boundaries? Should we say yes to everyone who comes to us?
How do you overcome the risk of hospitality, especially when you were a young mother as I soon hope to be?
What makes a good host?
I’m eager to hear Pohl’s answers in the coming chapters.  I’m also keen on her studies of contemporary Christian communities, and particularly how she will highlight their uniqueness and their commonality.
By the way,  the other two books on hospitality that I bought are “A Life That Says Welcome” and “The Joy of Hospitality.” I also have Edith Schaffer’s “The Hidden Art of Homemaking.” Does anyone have any additional suggestions for my growing collection?

How do you say not impressed in Italian?

Book: How to Listen to and Understand Great Music by Robert Greensberg

So far in this music history course, I have been trying to let go of my assumptions/preconceptions. I have tried to have an open mind about music that’s different than what I’m accustomed to (hello polyphony!). And pleasantly, many times I have been rewarded with a renewed sense of pleasure in ancient music as well as new gems unearthed.

When I came to the lectures on Baroque Opera, therefore, I was excited. Maybe too excited, because I had an awful image of opera I wanted to change: large people with large voices singing loudly in languages I can’t fathom. Maybe I should say here, too, that I’ve never seen an opera before. I also associate opera with wine, expensive cheese, and abstract art: things I think I’m “supposed to” appreciate but can’t see what all the fuss is about.

Imagine my surprise then, when even after listening to Aida‘s Tomb Scene Aria and Monteverde’s Orfeo I felt…. well, nothing spectacular. Nothing earth shaking, life changing, sky rending, mind blowing, or even remotely different. Not the way I felt listening to Palestrina, Josquin, or Welkes.

Dr. Greenberg said opera is the highest art form, blending music, literature, and drama into an art greater than the sum of its parts. But I just don’t….see it. Or feel it. I don’t feel incredibly moved by sopranos hitting the stratosphere, or strangely moved by Orpheus’ grief put to music.

Is there something wrong with me? Do I have proverbial brass ears? Or do others find opera to be an acquired taste, too?

Opera fans, help me out here. I really do want to learn to appreciate opera. What are the essential elements of a good opera to you? What titles would you recommend to people who say they don’t like opera?

6 Things (A Weekly List)

Each Wednesday, I hope to bring you a short list of things on a topic related to books, authors, and the like.

I almost didn’t post this today because many of my fellow WordPress bloggers are censoring themselves to stop SOPA. And although I want to support this movement, I live in Japan…so my censorship wouldn’t be among the timed ones anyway.

Then I saw a wonderful video, a video a blogger posted from Youtube, and I thought this is a great way to illustrate how SOPA could change the internet. Below are 6 videos from Youtube that all have to do with books. Some of them are amazing. Some are funny. And if SOPA is passed, you might never see them again.

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