Us YFBers...

I was truly shocked at my desire to read Suze Orman's book of financial advice for twenty-somethings. I usually don't buy this shit, and I find it ironic that she wants to take $25 from the very people she acknowledges are "young, fabulous, and broke" (or YFB, as we were termed for the rest of the book). (Also, the leather jacket she's wearing on the cover was a poor attempt at connecting with her target audience.) But I'm fascinated by money, and freaked out by my enormous school loan debt, and thought there might be something in it for me.

Another reason I love the library. I had to wait over 2 months to get my hands on a copy, but once I did, I had the full benefit of Suze's words of wisdom - both on the page, and on her website - without dropping money I don't really have. There's a lot in here about building good credit, and even more about how to best dig your way out of credit card debt. (Discovery: I don't have credit card debt - apparently I'm less broke than I thought, but also I think a little less fabulous in my spending habits.) It's all pretty sensible, and provides a good set of step-by-step instructions for those who need a very straightforward path to financial responsibility.

For people more like me, she quelled my fears of my looming loan payments by announcing that I've got a great deal, especiallly at my interest rate, so I don't need to freak out or subsist on ramen noodles while pumping my entire income into loan payments. She also provides smart advice on maximizing investments and how to start saving money when you're not a saver. By the end of the book, I was starting to think that maybe it was worth the $24.95 cover price after all...

Serendipity

I've found that there are certain books and stories that touch you incredibly deeply, not just because of what they say, but because of what place you are in life when you read them. For me, the best example is Robert Hellenga's The Fall of a Sparrow, a novel that might have meant less had I read it at any other time, in any other place. Another is this short story by T.C. Boyle, which I read last year, as winter slowly gave way to spring, on a bench just outside the Library of Congress.

On not thinking

Chances are, you've heard about Blink, Malcolm Gladwell's recent book on "the power of thinking without thinking." The man's become famous lately. I feel like I see or hear about him everywhere. And this is in spite of (or more likely because of) the fact that his argument about split-second thinking is pretty controversial. (Check out here, here and here for some of these mixed reviews.)

The book is an intensely fast read, well in keeping with the idea of taking in information quickly. And Gladwell's argument is best put when he explains that certain people are able to make snap judgments accurately b/c they know which pieces to keep and which to ignore among the flood of information and perceptions we are constantly receiving. To do this, though, you have to have a LOT of experience - intuition is built on expertise. So in effect he is saying that "blinking" is great, and you can trust your gut, as long as you have that basis of unconscious information to tap into. Or something. At any rate, he meanders around his argument, providing lots of fascinating anecdotes, but not really convincing me of anything except that he's a good storyteller.

The End of Poverty

Mixing it up a little bit, I decided to raid Michael's bookshelf (well, pile really) and grabbed The End of Poverty, by economist Jeffrey Sachs. I'm just reading excerpts, but it's enough to grasp the core of the book. He explains the root causes of poverty in the third world, exonerating many of the reasons given by liberals - making me a little uncomfortable with his analysis, but willing to buy in, since he isn't justifying the things we did wrong in the past, just arguing that there's more to the problem. Namely lack of access to technological change, and how both growth and stagnation spiral until you have a stratified world.

Then, and this is the part I'm reading now, he does a little tour of the world, with short chapters on his role in saving (or trying to save) the economies of various countries. Unsurprisingly, this reads like a memoir replete with name-dropping and transitions between false humility and utter pride. That's okay though - I want to know about how Poland's economy transitioned from Iron Curtain to free market.

Next, he's going to do something with the millenium and 9/11 - I'm curious to see what - and make the radical argument that not only do we have to solve poverty, but we actually can do it. And in twenty years. It's "our" (meaning his, not my) generation's challenge.

I am heartened by the fact that Sachs sees the impoverished as people, not just numbers. And that he believes in the free market, but sees a role for governments and institutions in breaking the cycle of poverty. And I hope that he is going to do what he says, provide a step-by-step plan to ending poverty. (It will be interesting to see how "liberal" and humanitarian this is, and also how well it meshes with last week's G8 discussions. I know he believes in debt relief.)

Oh, I forgot. Foreword by Bono. He's kind of a funny writer. But he is lavish in his praise for Sachs, and credits him for providing the kinds of insight and knowledge that have made the rock star a credible speaker for third world debt reduction.

The Five Obstructions

Not a book, but going in here nonetheless. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this movie by Lars von Trier (and Jorgen Leth). It's a little bit documentary, a little bit film theory, a little bit sadism, and a healthy dose of creativity under pressure. von Trier has Leth remake the latter's 1967 film The Perfect Human (which is a fun film in and of itself, and available in its entirety as a special feature on the dvd) four times, each time adding an "obstruction," one or more rules that Leth must follow. The resulting efforts are recognizable as children of the first film, but depart from it in extraordinary ways. Watching von Trier try to trip up Leth is its own drama. von Trier is a leading voice in the
Dogme 95 movement which aims to reestablish the purity of filmmaking through its own obstructions:

The essence of Dogme95 is to challenge the conventional film language – in order to make authentic films, in search of the truth. This implicates cutting out the usual aesthetic means of adding sound, light, make up, “ mise en scene”.

(One could argue that these are their own artificialities, but nevermind that here.) While Leth isn't beholden to these rules, the idea of getting at something true through imposed hardship is certainly a theme recurrent in von Trier's actions.

In short, fascinating to watch and really rather witty.

Guilty Pleasures

I spent a day reading Tracy Chevalier's The Lady and the Unicorn. Like Girl with a Pearl Earring, it's a fictional account of the creation of a great work of art - in this case, a series of tapestries. Also like the other book, it's about a time and place most Americans don't know much about, in this case late 15th century France and what would become Belgium. The women are surprisingly sassy and modern - is this anachronistic, or is it more true? Among the nobility, at least, the traditions of courtly love and all the extramarital play involved may have still had traction.

No one will accuse this novel of being great literature. But it's pretty, and I think it plays a useful role in bringing history to an audience that isn't used to digesting it. Chevalier is good at the details of the creation of art. She explains the weaving process and how many artists are behind such a complicated piece of artwork. Little details, like the need to sew together the slits that form when switching from one color to another. So mock me if you must, but there is room in everyone's reading life for something a little lighter, playful, romantic.

The Gate of Angels

I can't remember the name of this author - Penelope something (I am too lazy to look it up now but will do so and correct this later) - but it is our latest book club selection. I finished it yesterday for tonight's reading. Michael is hopefully going to read it during his lunch break. It is super short, but was hard to get into. It started to flow better after the first 50 pages of so and comes together in the end pretty well.

The setting is Cambridge (England), 1912. The main characters are a young physics fellow in one of the colleges, and a nurse-in-training. The author is big on description - especially of flowers, it seems - and creates vivid scenes. I feel like the pre-war years aren't that common in historical fiction, so it's nice to get a picture of that world, on the crux between old and new. However, the plot and characters are kind of sketchy. I felt bemused.

Also, I am coming to the conclusion that the librarian in our book club and I have different tastes in literature. Which is okay, but it does mean that perhaps I should be making more recommendations. Take it over.

David Sedaris ... Naked

I wasn't really into the idea of David Sedaris when I first heard about him. I think it was around the publication of Me Talk Pretty One Day, and apparently the faux bad grammar got to me. I enjoyed his articles in the New Yorker but even so wasn't interested in reading the books. Then I "joined" the Stanford Sunday Salon, and the book for this month was Naked. I definitely can't complain. He is witty, bizarre, self-depricating; his family is crazy but in a sassy way. He's had a lot of wacky adventures, which I found a little unbelievable, but then I'm young and sheltered. All in all a fun read.