The Jungle by Upton Sinclair

Here is a classic that I had never read, mainly because the subject was not of great interest to me. However, Sinclair somehow tapped into the consciousness of turn-of-the-century America with this fictional manifesto on the evils of capitalism and the virtues of socialism, although a great portion of today’s U.S. population would likely dismiss the novel, as socialism is considered the worst possible form of government, especially among conservatives. They may be surprised to know Sinclair’s book became a bestseller, originally released as a serial in 1905.

The novel was really intended to promote socialism as a just and successful alternative to capitalism, but the reading public apparently took it more as an exposé on the unsanitary and brutal conditions of the U.S. meatpacking industry, particularly in Chicago. The author doesn’t drive home his intended argument until the end of the book when several prophets are introduced literally “preaching” the gospel of socialism. The novel’s protagonist, a Lithuanian named Jurgis Rudkus, finally understands why socialism is the solution after his life has been ruined as an immigrant laborer. He contemplates how “the whole balance of what the people produced went to heap up the fortunes of these capitalists, to heap, and heap again, and yet again – and that in spite of the fact that they, and every one about them, lived in unthinkable luxury!”

One could argue that this novel still speaks to the great disparity of wealth that exists in America today, especially as the term “oligarchy” has become a common descriptor of the country’s economic condition. Instead of the hopelessness of independent small farmers presented by the author at the end of the book, the shrinking American middle class employee nevertheless identifies with being “held to a bare existence by competition in labor, and boasting of his freedom because he is too blind to see his chains.”

What is truly remarkable about The Jungle is the influence it had on government policy and regulation. Public outrage over the novel’s graphic descriptions of unsanitary conditions in the meatpacking plants directly led the U.S. government to pass the Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act in 1906. This muckraking novel remains a powerful and relevant work that continues to be studied for its depiction of social injustice, workers’ rights, and the impact of industrialization.

The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck

This is another one of those classics that I never read, but I’m so glad I did. The Good Earth is in many ways a sad story with characters who are genuinely believable because they are all flawed in some way. And true to life, some of the most virtuous are the ones who struggle the most and have the worst luck. As the title implies, the lives of the characters in the generations leading up to the novel’s time have always been tied to the land, but there are always tensions close at hand that could end that bond.

Because of the time setting in the early 20th century, Buck’s story feels a bit like Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, only set in China. The writer’s style makes it feel more like a long parable that mimics a Biblical narrative – straightforward language that is short on adjectives and adverbs. The sentences almost sound like they could have been written in the 16th century. The book features classic storytelling and character development, worthy of the Pulitzer it won.

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton was one of those writers who had an absolute mastery of the English language. I rank her skills up there with Thomas Hardy and Henry James. She was also a best-selling author, largely due to the success of this novel published in 1905. And although it is not the first feminist novel, it is one of the early notable ones to my way of thinking. In painting her portrait of the prescribed social structure of high society New York City in the late 19th century, she cast a slightly jaded eye toward the way women were at a significant disadvantage just because of their gender in a patriarchal world.

Although it is worth noting there are some very wealthy and powerful women in the novel, most often their status is tied back to the men in their lives. The leading “lady” of the novel, Lily Bart, sums it up very succinctly with this observation about marriage, “Ah, there’s the difference – a girl must, a man may if he chooses.” A little later Wharton has Lily contemplate further on the thought. “Why must a girl pay so dearly for her least escape from routine? Why could one never do a natural thing without having to screen it behind a structure of artifice?” These questions speak as much to the stifling societal pressures as they do to sexism, where manipulation and subterfuge among women in high places is ruthless.

In another reflective moment, Lily claims that all men have to do to get their way is to be passive and wait; while she has “to calculate and contrive, and retreat and advance, as if I were going through an intricate dance, where one misstep would throw me hopelessly out of time.” This is terribly ironic because a few missteps throw here way off balance.

Wharton reveals how self absorbed these high rollers are: “they had a force of negation which eliminated everything beyond their own range of operation.” The author even becomes a fortune teller at one point, predicting how a young Truman Capote would insert himself into this New York scene several decades later, when she describes one of the male characters “who meant to live on proof-reading and write an epic, and who now lived on his friends and had become critical of truffles.” It’s always about who you know, with whom you are seen and associated, and what you are wearing, especially for the women.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Delicious! That is the best adjective I can come up with to describe Shirley Jackson’s writing, and this novel is a prime example. She is a worthy beneficiary of masters like Hawthorne and Poe in the American Gothic tradition. I have read her short stories, including her most famous, “The Lottery;” however, I think this is the first of her novels I have ever read.

In this rather macabre story, Jackson skillfully keeps her readers in the dark just enough to propel them forward to discover how the tragic events revealed in the beginning of the book unfolded and who is responsible. But this is no simple murder mystery. Jackson is opening metaphorical doors to hidden rooms filled with mob psychology, the complexities of family, sisterly bonds, and a touch of madness.

The concept of “innocence” and its multiple meanings are at the heart of this story. It is at times horrific, but not in the sense of a Stephen King novel. There is a sense of foreboding that seeps into our heads like an invasive vine that weaves its way through every space until, before we know it, we are surrounded by an inescapable terror.

Dear Edna Sloane by Amy Shearn

Of the four Amy Shearn novels I have read thus far, this is my favorite. She is somewhat of a writer’s writer, and Dear Edna Sloane is Exhibit A in that argument. Written from the viewpoint of multiple characters through the vehicle of various communications methods (letters, emails, phone texts, etc.), Shearn tells the story of a young female author whose first and only published book was a runaway bestseller. And then she disappeared from the public eye, and seemingly from all of society, for decades. Fast forward and a young aspiring but as yet unsuccessful writer is trying to find her.

Dear Edna Sloane is cleverly written and so perfectly spot on with the language, antics, anxieties, and drama of the twenty-something professionals from 2018. But when Sloane does re-emerge, although reluctantly, Shearn really turns up the volume and pulls out the magic. I see hints that Shearn may be familiar with the life of Flannery O’Connor when Sloane recalls her struggles with professors, editors, and agents, all of whom were male and not exactly upstanding gentlemen.

There are so many passages in this book that I marked. Shearn knows how to tell a story while also imparting some heavy truth through the voices of her characters. And she does it without preaching or knocking us over the head. She is an entertaining writer, which I find to be all too rare these days among authors of modern fiction. Shearn has a few sections in this book that could easily be read as a writer’s manifesto. Edna Sloane has such a jaded view of writing and publishing, but even more so of the reading public, most of whom judge the worth of a book based on whether or not it has been made into a blockbuster film.

Shearn touches on some of her familiar themes here from her other novels, such as the unrealistic expectations of wives, mothers, and professional women. For instance, here is a golden passage about a woman from the story who married a doctor: “It felt like a way of securing a life without having to make a living. But as generations of housewives and queens can attest, that doesn’t necessarily add up to living.”

And then there’s this nugget from the voice of Edna Sloane: “All I’m trying to say is, I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to regain that purity and perceptiveness I used to have — that sensitivity to everything that made me want to be a writer in the first place.” Sloane and Shearn fully understand the curse of the bestseller.

Here’s another: “. . . none of it felt as close to the bone, as true and full of meaning as crafting a single perfect sentence, well-tuned as a pitch pipe, glowing like a sculpted length of gold. Very few people, in fact, understand that.”

Before it’s over, this novel invites the reader to resist falling into the trap of an unexamined life. As Edna Sloane puts it, “It’s not about the answers. If you knew all the answers, you wouldn’t be a writer, you’d be a pundit. It’s ok to have the questions. And it’s ok to not know why you have the questions. You’re the wild animal, not the zookeeper.” Wow.

Badass Retirement by Robert Pagliarini

My wife and I listened to this book on a road trip, not knowing how relevant it would be to both of us as recent retirees. We have read several books on retirement over the last year or so, and a few of them were very helpful in getting our heads wrapped around the concept of leaving our careers behind. But Pagliarini’s book is a game changer. As a certified financial advisor, the author has had ample opportunity to study retirement up close through research and working with clients. He is also very disciplined about his own health and welfare. The main point he drills home (sometimes at the risk of being redundant) is that retirees have more time and resources than they’ve ever had, so they shouldn’t settle for a traditional retirement of resting and waiting to die!

Pagliarini also has a website by the same name as the book title with plenty of resources covering everything from finances to travel, from health and fitness to relationships. He really covers all the bases, and his book serves as a strong promotional tool for the site. He also has a blog and a podcast. He has basically created a virtual retirement community.

One of the most interesting discussions that hit home directly to us was his idea of thinking like an athlete in retirement, striving to be the healthiest we can be through diet, exercise, wellness, and monitoring our bodies so we can enjoy our retirement to the fullest. He stresses that retirees should be actively seeking ways to finding meaning and fulfillment, pouring our energy into what matters most to us knowing that the risk of failure is significantly diminished because our livelihood doesn’t depend on achievement. We can just go for it!

We liked the audiobook so much that we ordered a hardcopy of Badass Retirement. Anyone who anticipates retirement in the near future or is already there should consider reading this one.

Six White Horses: Poems by Sarah Gordon

Full disclosure: I was a student of Sarah Gordon back in the early 1980s as an undergraduate in English, so yes, I am unapologetically biased. I have always considered her a mentor and among the best teachers I ever had the wonderful fortune to encounter. This latest collection of poems received high praise right out of the gate with the cover endorsements, but I bet she heard from fans too since the book was released. I wrote her a rather long email praising the book.

I was intrigued by the poems in this collection that ponder origins, especially in “Antics” but in a few others, such as “Fixed Points,” and the speculative “A Priori.” I really like the example in “Ink,” in the last sentence that considers the genesis of writing. Gordon’s poems raise plenty of questions that inherently have no easy answers. They invite contemplation, a second or third thought, and a revisiting.

Here is a list of some of my favorites in the collection:

“A Priori” – the last phrase about Eve’s distracting apple, “for the poet who chanced upon it and with it struck and bruised the page.” That’s the stuff, right there!

“Bites” – These lines are power packed: “Later, of course, she learned to use that voice to set her world straight, and when she became strident, straight didn’t matter so much. Shouting did.” And yet still biting her tongue in the end.

“Diagramming” – the sexual metaphor of the declarative is especially on point, but the visuals throughout this poem work so well.

“Ach! The Shadow of the Spinster” – this one is about as raw as it gets in the collection, and applied to the “old maid” stereotype, the nitty gritty gets it done.

“Hiding Again from the Jehovah’s Witnesses” – my favorite poem title in the collection, and it is such a relatable poem to those of us who have found ourselves “leaning low and still on the other side of the wall . . . .”

I wish I were a better student of poetry. Admittedly, my thoughts here may not be profound, but I hope they convey my admiration for Sarah Gordon’s work.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

Metaphors abound in this rich and contemplative work of poetic fiction. Harvey’s mastery of language is so impressive as she weaves together paragraphs and passages describing a day in the life of six international astronauts on a mission to the moon. She delves into their minds, emotions, and psyches but doesn’t dig so deep to get bogged down in their individual lives. They are representatives of humanity, coming to terms with what it means to be human and what our relationship is to the planet, and beyond. So much of the terrestrial crises resulting from greed and power lust seem to fade as they continually circle the globe, awed by breathtaking beauty, majesty, and natural violence that is indifferent to human life. Political strife and turf wars become insignificant the farther away we are from them. As the reviewer for the The Jungle by Upton Sinclair

Here is a classic that I had never read, mainly because the subject was not of great interest to me. However, Sinclair somehow tapped into the consciousness of turn-of-the-century America with this fictional manifesto on the evils of capitalism and the virtues of socialism, although a great portion of today’s U.S. population would likely dismiss the novel, as socialism is considered the worst possible form of government, especially among conservatives. They may be surprised to know Sinclair’s book became a bestseller, originally released as a serial in 1905.

The novel was really intended to promote socialism as a just and successful alternative to capitalism, but the reading public apparently took it more as an exposé on the unsanitary and brutal conditions of the U.S. meatpacking industry, particularly in Chicago. The author doesn’t drive home his intended argument until the end of the book when several prophets are introduced literally “preaching” the gospel of socialism. The novel’s protagonist, a Lithuanian named Jurgis Rudkus, finally understands why socialism is the solution after his life has been ruined as an immigrant laborer. He contemplates how “the whole balance of what the people produced went to heap up the fortunes of these capitalists, to heap, and heap again, and yet again – and that in spite of the fact that they, and every one about them, lived in unthinkable luxury!”

One could argue that this novel still speaks to the great disparity of wealth that exists in America today, especially as the term “oligarchy” has become a common descriptor of the country’s economic condition. Instead of the hopelessness of independent small farmers presented by the author at the end of the book, the shrinking American middle class employee nevertheless identifies with being “held to a bare existence by competition in labor, and boasting of his freedom because he is too blind to see his chains.”

What is truly remarkable about The Jungle is the influence it had on government policy and regulation. Public outrage over the novel’s graphic descriptions of unsanitary conditions in the meatpacking plants directly led the U.S. government to pass the Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act in 1906. This muckraking novel remains a powerful and relevant work that continues to be studied for its depiction of social injustice, workers’ rights, and the impact of industrialization.

The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck

This is another one of those classics that I never read, but I’m so glad I did. The Good Earth is in many ways a sad story with characters who are genuinely believable because they are all flawed in some way. And true to life, some of the most virtuous are the ones who struggle the most and have the worst luck. As the title implies, the lives of the characters in the generations leading up to the novel’s time have always been tied to the land, but there are always tensions close at hand that could end that bond.

Because of the time setting in the early 20th century, Buck’s story feels a bit like Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, only set in China. The writer’s style makes it feel more like a long parable that mimics a Biblical narrative – straightforward language that is short on adjectives and adverbs. The sentences almost sound like they could have been written in the 16th century. The book features classic storytelling and character development, worthy of the Pulitzer it won.

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton was one of those writers who had an absolute mastery of the English language. I rank her skills up there with Thomas Hardy and Henry James. She was also a best-selling author, largely due to the success of this novel published in 1905. And although it is not the first feminist novel, it is one of the early notable ones to my way of thinking. In painting her portrait of the prescribed social structure of high society New York City in the late 19th century, she cast a slightly jaded eye toward the way women were at a significant disadvantage just because of their gender in a patriarchal world.

Although it is worth noting there are some very wealthy and powerful women in the novel, most often their status is tied back to the men in their life. The leading “lady” of the novel, Lily Bart, sums it up very succinctly with this observation about marriage, “Ah, there’s the difference – a girl must, a man may if he chooses.” A little later Wharton has Lily contemplate further on the thought. “Why must a girl pay so dearly for her least escape from routine? Why could one never do a natural thing without having to screen it behind a structure of artifice?” These questions speak as much to the stifling societal pressures as they do to sexism, where manipulation and subterfuge among women in high places is ruthless.

In another reflective moment, Lily claims that all men have to do to get their way is to be passive and wait; while she has “to calculate and contrive, and retreat and advance, as if I were going through an intricate dance, where one misstep would throw me hopelessly out of time.” This is terribly ironic because a few missteps throw here way off balance.

Wharton reveals how self absorbed these high rollers are, “they had a force of negation which eliminated everything beyond their own range of operation.” The author even becomes a fortune teller at one point, predicting how a young Truman Capote would insert himself into this New York scene several decades later, when she describes one of the male characters “who meant to live on proof-reading and write an epic, and who now lived on his friends and had become critical of truffles.” It’s always about who you know, with whom you are seen and associated, and what you are wearing, especially for the women.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Delicious! That is the best adjective I can come up with to describe Shirley Jackson’s writing, and this novel is a prime example. She is a worthy beneficiary of masters like Hawthorne and Poe in the American Gothic tradition. I have read her short stories, including her most famous, “The Lottery;” however, I think this is the first of her novels I have ever read.

In this rather macabre story, Jackson skillfully keeps her readers in the dark just enough to propel them forward to discover how the tragic events revealed in the beginning of the book unfolded and who is responsible. But this is no simple murder mystery. Jackson is opening metaphorical doors to hidden rooms filled with mob psychology, the complexities of family, sisterly bonds, and a touch of madness.

The concept of “innocence” and its multiple meanings are at the heart of this story. It is at times horrific, but not in the sense of a Stephen King novel. There is a sense of foreboding that seeps into our heads like an invasive vine that weaves its way through every space until, before we know it, we are surrounded by an inescapable terror.

Dear Edna Sloane by Amy Shearn

Of the four Amy Shearn novels I have read thus far, this is my favorite. She is somewhat of a writer’s writer, and Dear Edna Sloane is Exhibit A in that argument. Written from the viewpoint of multiple characters through the vehicle of various communications methods (letters, emails, phone texts, etc.), Shearn tells the story of a young female author whose first and only published book was a runaway bestseller. And then she disappeared from the public eye, and seemingly from all of society, for decades. Fast forward and a young aspiring but as yet unsuccessful writer is trying to find her.

The search for Edna Sloane is cleverly written and so perfectly spot on with the language, antics, anxieties, and drama of the twenty-something professionals from 2018. But when she does re-emerge, although reluctantly, Shearn really turns up the volume and pulls out the magic. I see hints that Shearn may be familiar with the life of Flannery O’Connor when Sloane recalls her struggles with professors, editors, and agents, all of whom were male and not exactly upstanding gentlemen.

There are so many passages in this book that I marked. Shearn knows how to tell a story while also imparting some heavy truth through the voices of her characters. And she does it without preaching or knocking us over the head. She is an entertaining writer, which I find to be all too rare these days among authors of modern fiction. Shearn has a few sections in this book that could easily be read as a writer’s manifesto. Edna Sloane has such a jaded view of writing and publishing, but even more so of the reading public, most of whom judge the worth of a book based on whether or not it has been made into a blockbuster film.

Shearn touches on some of her familiar themes here from her other novels, such as the unrealistic expectations of wives, mothers, and professional women. For instance, here is a golden passage about a woman from the story who married a doctor: “It felt like a way of securing a life without having to make a living. But as generations of housewives and queens can attest, that doesn’t necessarily add up to living.”

And then there’s this nugget from the voice of Edna Sloane: “All I’m trying to say is, I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to regain that purity and perceptiveness I used to have — that sensitivity to everything that made me want to be a writer in the first place.” Sloane and Shearn fully understand the curse of the bestseller.

Here’s another: “. . . none of it felt as close to the bone, as true and full of meaning as crafting a single perfect sentence, well-tuned as a pitch pipe, glowing like a sculpted length of gold. Very few people, in fact, understand that.”

Before it’s over, this novel invites the reader to resist falling into the trap of an unexamined life. As Edna Sloane puts it, “It’s not about the answers. If you knew all the answers, you wouldn’t be a writer, you’d be a pundit. It’s ok to have the questions. And it’s ok to not know why you have the questions. You’re the wild animal, not the zookeeper.” Wow.

Badass Retirement by Robert Pagliarini

My wife and I listened to this book on a road trip, not knowing how relevant it would be to both of us as recent retirees. We have read several books on retirement over the last year or so, and a few of them were very helpful in getting our heads wrapped around the concept of leaving our careers behind. But Pagliarini’s book is a game changer. As a certified financial advisor, the author has had ample opportunity to study retirement up close through research and working with clients. He is also very disciplined about his own health and welfare. The main point he drills home (sometimes at the risk of being redundant) is that retirees have more time and resources than they’ve ever had, so they shouldn’t settle for a traditional retirement of resting and waiting to die!

Pagliarini also has a website by the same name as the book title with plenty of resources covering everything from finances to travel, from health and fitness to relationships. He really covers all the bases, and his book serves as a strong promotional tool for the site. He also has a blog and a podcast. He has basically created a virtual retirement community.

One of the most interesting discussions that hit home directly to us was his idea of thinking like an athlete in retirement, striving to be the healthiest we can be through diet, exercise, wellness, and monitoring our bodies so we can enjoy our retirement to the fullest. He stresses that retirees should be actively seeking ways to finding meaning and fulfillment, pouring our energy into what matters most to us knowing that the risk of failure is significantly diminished because our livelihood doesn’t depend on achievement. We can just go for it!

We liked the audiobook so much that we ordered a hardcopy of Badass Retirement. Anyone who anticipates retirement in the near future or is already there should consider reading this one.

Six White Horses: Poems by Sarah Gordon

Full disclosure: I was a student of Sarah Gordon back in the early 1980s as an undergraduate in English, so yes, I am unapologetically biased. I have always considered her a mentor and among the best teachers I ever had the wonderful fortune to encounter. This latest collection of poems received high praise right out of the gate with the cover endorsements, but I bet she heard from fans too since the book was released. I wrote her a rather long email praising the book.

I was intrigued by the poems in this collection that ponder origins, especially in “Antics” but in a few others, such as “Fixed Points,” and the speculative “A Priori.” I really like the example in “Ink,” in the last sentence that considers the genesis of writing. Gordon’s poems raise plenty of questions that inherently have no easy answers. They invite contemplation, a second or third thought, and a revisiting.

Here is a list of some of my favorites in the collection:

“A Priori” – the last phrase about Eve’s distracting apple, “for the poet who chanced upon it and with it struck and bruised the page.” That’s the stuff, right there!

“Bites” – These lines are power packed: “Later, of course, she learned to use that voice to set her world straight, and when she became strident, straight didn’t matter so much. Shouting did.” And yet still biting her tongue in the end.

“Diagramming” – the sexual metaphor of the declarative is especially on point, but the visuals throughout this poem work so well.

“Ach! The Shadow of the Spinster” – this one is about as raw as it gets in the collection, and applied to the “old maid” stereotype, the nitty gritty gets it done.

“Hiding Again from the Jehovah’s Witnesses” – my favorite poem title in the collection, and it is such a relatable poem to those of us who have found ourselves “leaning low and still on the other side of the wall . . . .”

I wish I were a better student of poetry. Admittedly, my thoughts here may not be profound, but I hope they convey my admiration for Sarah Gordon’s work.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

Metaphors abound in this rich and contemplative work of poetic fiction. Harvey’s mastery of language is so impressive as she weaves together paragraphs and passages describing a day in the life of six international astronauts on a mission to the moon. She delves into their minds, emotions, and psyches but doesn’t dig so deep to get bogged down in their individual lives. They are representatives of humanity, coming to terms with what it means to be human and what our relationship is to the planet, and beyond. So much of the terrestrial crises resulting from greed and power lust seem to fade as they continually circle the globe, awed by breathtaking beauty, majesty, and natural violence that is indifferent to human life. Political strife and turf wars become insignificant the farther away we are from them. As the reviewer for the New York Times put it, “It’s harder to see the world’s problems from 250 miles up.” What a wonderful book and worthy of the Booker Prize. 

The Quiet Librarian by Allen Eskens

This book is a departure from Eskens’s other crime fiction. Instead of returning to familiar characters of his previous novels, Eskens focuses on a woman whose best friend has died suspiciously and the police detective trying to determine what happened. But there are plenty of secrets from the past complicating matters and relationships. The roots of the crime go back to the Bosnian-Serbia war, and Eskens does a fine job of switching the narrative back and forth between the eastern European conflict in the 1990s and present-day America. This may not be his best work to date, but it is a good story. And how could I resist a novel with a librarian as a main character?