Nina's Reading Blog

Comments on books I am reading/listening to

Archive for the ‘Memoir’ Category

One Man’s Owl

Posted by nliakos on June 14, 2020

by Bernd Heinrich (Princeton University Press 1987)

I picked this up at Wonder Book in Rockville because it reminded me of Wesley the Owl, which I loved. One Man’s Owl is more academic than Wesley; Heinrich is a zoologist at the University of Vermont. But the relationship between Heinrich and “his” owl Bubo is not terribly different from the relationship of Wesley and his “girl”, except that in that case, the owl clearly came to see his rescuer as his mate, whereas that is not clear in the case of Heinrich and Bubo (whom Heinrich never definitively sexes despite his use of masculine pronouns).

Heinrich is pretty obsessive about recording all the birds, insects, small mammals and other tidbits he finds dead on the road, killed by his wife’s cat, or captures alive and offers to Bubo. A Great Horned Owl is a master predator and a carnivore, so if you are raising an owl, you have to keep it fed. Still, I could have done without the details of furry little mammals and songbirds eaten by Bubo.

Heinrich illustrated the book himself with really beautiful pen-and-ink drawings of amazing detail, of Bubo and of other species.

Both books make clear that living with an owl is all-consuming. Not a part-time occupation!

Posted in Biology and environmental science, Memoir, Non-fiction, Pandemic Lockdown, Science | Tagged: , , , | 1 Comment »

Empty Cradles

Posted by nliakos on March 13, 2020

by Margaret Humphreys (Doubleday 1994, Corgi 1995)

Back in November, I watched the 2010 Jim Loach film Oranges and Sunshine on kanopy.com. I vaguely remembered hearing about a scandal concerning British children being sent to Australia and was curious to know more. After watching the film, I wanted to read the book on which it was based, but it was really difficult to find. I put in a request on global library cooperative OCLC, and after months of waiting, finally received a copy from Bard College Library.

Not surprisingly, the book is more inclusive than the film; in fact, British children were deported to many different parts of the Empire, not only Australia. Humphreys mentions visiting Rhodesia (present-day Zimbabwe) and Canada and says that child migrants were also sent to New Zealand and South Africa. (Wikipedia’s article about the “scheme” can be read here.) But Humphreys’ work seems to have been concentrated on child migrants in Australia. Humphreys was a social worker in Nottingham when she stumbled on the first case of an Australian adult searching for her birth family and identity; initially, she did not believe that the woman could have been sent 12,000 miles from her birthplace as a young child. She soon discovered that that woman was the tip of a very big iceberg. As many as 150,000 British “orphans” (living in institutions, but many, if not most, with living parents who never authorized their deportation) were emigrated (the first time I have ever seen emigrate used as a transitive verb) between the 17th and 20th centuries, finally ending in 1967. Some of the earliest ones were part of the settlement of the Virginia colony. Rather than being adopted or fostered in families, the vast majority of these kids grew up in institutions, some of which exploited them cruelly, preventing normal development and causing emotional scars lasting a lifetime.

Humphreys’ goal was straightforward: to reunite adult Australian migrants with living parents or other relatives in the U.K., and to provide counseling services to those who needed them. Many of the migrant children were used as slave labor by the charitable institutions (for example the Christian Brothers) who took them in. Horrific physical and sexual abuse of even the very young (toddlers!) was not uncommon, to say nothing of unhealthy living conditions (inadequate or spoiled food, dirty quarters [e.g., urine-soaked mattresses and bedding], no shoes, no underwear, and on and on). But apparently the worst thing for these children was the denial of love and affection. One man, for example, described pretending to almost fall out of bed so that someone would pick him up and hold him. (It didn’t work.) The other “worst thing” was not knowing who they were. Names were changed, ages were changed, and even after they grew up and had the audacity to ask for their records, they were refused. They were told that their parents had died or had abandoned them when this was not true. Back in Britain, parents (some of whom had specified that as soon as they were able, they planned to take their children back) were told that the children had been adopted or had died. Virtually no one was told that their children had been deported to Australia or other corners of the far-flung Empire. The goal of all this was two-fold: to clear out British orphanages and institutions of poor or otherwise undesirable children, and to add to the white populations of the colonies.

In order to perpetrate this injustice, the governments of the U.K., Australia, and the other then-colonies had to participate in it; the British Home Secretary, for example, had to sign off on the deportations, since the parents were never asked. Humphreys made it part of her mission to get those governments to admit that they were part of the problem, to apologize for the human damage they had sanctioned, and to fund the organization she created to help their victims, some of whom were already elderly–the Child Migrants Trust. It was an uphill battle which took years. By the time she wrote the book, the Australians had apologized (2009), and the British P.M. (Gordon) had apologized to the children’s families (2010). Restitution in the form of funding the Trust’s activities or other organizations trying to help the former migrants has been slow in coming.

This is a shocking true story of the exploitation of over 100,000 innocent children. Everyone should read the book or see one of the films made about it:

 

 

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The Corfu Trilogy

Posted by nliakos on December 3, 2019

by Gerald Durrell

  • My Family and Other Animals (Penguin 1956)
    • This was one of my mother’s books, and I read it myself many years ago. Recently, my interest has been reawakened by the delightful TV series The Durrells in Corfu, which my family gathered to watch on Sunday nights for four seasons of laughter-inducing episodes about the eccentric Durrell family’s life on the Greek Island of Corfu (Kerkira). The day after the Season 4 finale, I started re-reading the first of the so-called Corfu Trilogy. It introduces us to the main characters: mom Louisa Durrell and her young adult children, Larry (the Lawrence Durrell of Alexandria Quartet fame); Leslie; Margo; and the narrator of the entire trilogy, ten-year-old Gerry, whose later books about animal collecting and his special zoo on the Isle of Jersey (the Jersey Wildlife Preservation Trust) made him at least as famous as Larry. We also meet Spiros Halikiopoulos (son of a pebble?), a Corfiot who immediately befriends the family and sticks by them through thick and thin; Lugaretzia, who is hired as household help; and Dr. Theodore Stephanides, who became Gerry’s friend and mentor. Twenty years later, a grown-up Gerry remembered the details of his life on the island: not only the animals, which he observed with intense fascination, captured, and brought home as pets (to the horror of his family), but also the plant life, the sea, the weather, and of course the people. Gerry seems to have learned enough Greek to communicate fluently with the neighbors (something the TV series ignored; even in Season 4, all five Durrells can barely get a sentence out in Greek).  He describes the process in Chapter Two: “As the days passed, I came gradually to understand them. What had at first been a confused babble became a series of recognizable separate sounds. Then, suddenly, these took on meaning, and slowly and haltingly I started to use them myself; then I took my newly acquired words and strung them into ungrammatical and stumbling sentences. Our neighbours were delighted, as though I had conferred some delicate compliment by trying to learn their language. They would lean over the hedge, their faces screwed up with concentration, as I groped my way through a greeting or a simple remark, and when I had successfully concluded they would beam at me, nodding and smiling, and clap their hands.” He narrates his adventures both in his own garden and farther afield on the island and includes some very funny episodes about the people he lives with and the people he meets, such as the various tutors his mother engages to educate him. The funniest parts always include his ever-expanding menagerie: Ulysses the Scops owl, Achilles the tortoise, Alecko the black-backed gull, the “Magenpies”, Geronimo the gecko, the dogs Roger, Widdle, and Puke, and many more, some too tiny to name. The first book concludes with the family traveling to England where Gerry was supposed to go to school, whereas in reality, it was because of the impending Second World War that the family were forced to leave Corfu in 1939. (11/09/19)
  • Birds, Beasts, and Relatives (Viking 1969)
    • The second in the Corfu series continues in the same vein. Durrell describes in simile-laden prose the plants and animals he observed and sometimes captured. His similes help the reader envision what he was experiencing. For example: “…tiny crabs or beadlet anemones like little scarlet-and-blue jewelled pincushions”; “…a delicate growth of acetabularia mediterranea with slender threadlike stalks, and perched on the top of each stalk something that looked like a small green parasol turned inside out by some submarine wind”; and “a great black lump of sponge covered with gaping, protruberant mouths like miniature volcanoes.” (The above three examples were all in a single paragraph described shore life in a tiny bay.) My favorite similes, however, are the ones that anthropomorphize the wildlife, like this one: “… [the mantises’] bulbous straw-coloured eyes turning this way and that, missing nothing, like angular, embittered spinsters at a cocktail party.” And “[the tarantula] was standing half-way up a blue thistle, waving his front legs and peering about him, reminding me irresistibly of a hunter who had climbed up a tree in order to see if there is any game about.” I assume that the breath-taking detail with which he describes his island world can be attributed to the habit, already instilled in him at that young age by his mentor, Dr. Theodore Stephanides, of keeping a detailed journal of his discoveries and observations, in which he not only described things in words but also sketched them.  Gerry’s adventures narrated in this volume include night-fishing with Taki, acquiring a young donkey as a birthday present, Katerina’s wedding and childbirth, Sven (who never dates Gerry’s mother Louisa, as he does in the TV series) and Captain Creech (who is, if possible, even more irritating than he is in his TV portrayal), fishing for cuttlefish with love, dissecting a rotting turtle carcass on the front veranda, Leslie bribing a judge with postage stamps when Roger is falsely accused to stealing and eating five turkeys, a trip to London to retrieve Margo (Aunt Fan, Cousin Prue, some Bedlington terrier puppies, and a seance), Donald and Max’s visit, Gerry’s lunch with Countess Mavrodaki, the acquisition and loss of four baby hedgehogs, the wreck of Larry’s yacht, Gerry dancing with Pavlo the bear, and a family outing to Mr. Stavrodakis’ vineyard/winery. This last one constitutes the final chapter of the book and is the only chapter that isn’t particularly funny. The whole day is described with such love and longing, as if it were Gerry’s most important memory of the place he loved so much. He ends the chapter, and the book, thus: Lulled by the wine and the throbbing heart of the boat’s engine, lulled by the warm night and the singing, I fell asleep while the boat carried us back across the warm, smooth waters to our island and the brilliant days that were not to be
  • The Garden of the Gods/Fauna and Family: An Account of the Durrell Family of Corfu (Touchstone/Simon and Schuster 1978)
    • I had a hard time finding this one because it wasn’t obvious that one book had been published under two titles. Once I figured that out, I realized I already owned a copy. The narratives continue, looking at the island, the family, their friends and peculiar guests through young Gerry’s eyes. (The Durrells spent four or five years in Corfu, so Gerry might have been ten when they first arrived, but he was fourteen or fifteen when they departed. It’s never clear in the books how old he is in a particular chapter. The books don’t seem to be organized chronologically. I suppose he wrote about what he remembered best, and he didn’t plan it as a trilogy, but just kept adding volumes because of all of his books, these were the best sellers and thus earned his Wildlife Preservation Trust the most money (Writing was how Gerald Durrell financed his Jersey zoo devoted to saving endangered species). I was curious to see if the final volume mentioned anything about Gerry’s mother falling in love with the taxi-driver, Spiro. It didn’t. Nor did it have any mention of Spiro’s wife or children, if indeed he was married. So that juicy little romance was a fiction invented by the TV folks (not surprisingly). Also, in the books, Spiro is described as barrel-shaped, usually scowling, and ugly–not at all the handsome, charming man of the series, though he was able to find/make/buy/produce anything the family needed, which included some pretty weird stuff. There were some extremely funny moments, like Gerry’s bull horns (not bullhorns) falling on Leslie’s head and nearly knocking him out; King George’s visit to Corfu (also embroidered rather fancifully by the TV series director or scriptwriter); the time Margo brought home a besotted Turk with his two veiled wives, who was prepared to take on Margo as Number Three; the visit of the gentle American homosexuals, Lumy and Harry, who did make it into the TV series; and finally, Prince Jeejeebuoy’s birthday, in honor of which the whole family throws an elaborate India-themed party which takes days to prepare and naturally does not go completely as planned. . . . In sum, I enjoyed the TV series, but I am glad that it inspired me to go back to the books, because, as is almost always true, they are much better than the series!

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She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement

Posted by nliakos on October 24, 2019

by Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey (Penguin 2019)

This book is actually two books in one. The first, the longer one, is the one referred to in the subtitle: the Harvey Weinstein sexual harassment case that ultimately brought down not only Mr. Weinstein but also his entire company, The Weinstein Company (TWC). The second, only 62 pages, which tells the story of Christine Blasey Ford and the Kavanaugh Supreme Court confirmation, seems like more of an after-thought. Kantor and Twohey did not break that story, although Blasey Ford did attend a gathering they organized in 2019 to interview a disparate group of women who had come forward to accuse their harassers in order to learn how going public had impacted their lives.

As I had read in a review somewhere, Kantor and Twohey’s book helps the reader understand the journalistic process and the ethics which guide journalists’ work. We read about the editors and higher-ups in the New York Times who make the crucial decisions about what to print, when to print, whether to print, to continue pursuing a story or not, how much time to allow reporters to work on a story that seems to be going nowhere, and so on. There are references to others pursuing the same story (e.g., Ronan Farrow, whose book Catch and Kill I will read next) and the pressure to be the first to break the story rather than to write a “follow” (a summary of another person’s original article), which the authors say is “humbling to write”.

As for the actual story itself, Harvey Weinstein was a sleazy old guy with a lot of power and influence who (with the cooperation and assistance of his underlings) trapped young women in hotel rooms and tried to get them to disrobe, give and accept “massages”, take showers with him, and watch him masturbate. He occasionally raped them, but in general his modus operandi seems to have been “persuasion”, keeping in mind his dominance over them professionally–both the women who worked for him and young actors hoping for parts in his films. Some of them submitted; some escaped, but all, it seems, were harmed by the experience. Some of the harm was professional; e.g., a staffer unable to continue working in the film industry because she was prevented by a non-disclosure agreement (NDA) from explaining why she had left Miramax, Weinstein’s company at the time. Other harm was in the recriminations and self-doubts that continued to plague these women, who were prevented from discussing what had happened to them by the NDAs they had signed, thereby consigning them to living with the events and the feelings connected to them unresolved.

Kantor and Twohey show how the NDAs provided the victims with cash settlements far larger than they would have gotten had they complained to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), the government agency charged with enforcing the laws against sexual harassment, and won–which, given the atmosphere at the time, was far from certain. Blaming the victim was common, and the EEOC was not even allowed to make public the information it had about serial harassers. “Such agencies would gather crucial information with taxpayer dollars and then, for the most part, were required to lock it away where almost no one could see it,” report the authors. Thus did the federal and state governments enable sexual harassers to continue to victimize people for years–in Weinstein’s case, over forty years before he was finally held accountable.

Once having signed an NDA, however, victims of sexual harassment or assault were muzzled for life. In effect, the NDAs prostituted the victims after the fact: after they were groped, fondled, “massaged”, forced to engage in oral sex, or raped, they were paid to remain silent about what had happened. While many victims wanted only to forget what had happened, the inability to reconsider that decision would haunt them for years and made Kantor and Twohey’s investigation much more challenging, because they were unable to persuade people to talk to them. These agreements should be illegal, in my view.

Definitely worth reading.

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Educated: A Memoir

Posted by nliakos on October 7, 2019

by Tara Westover (Random House, 2018)

Reading the story of Tara Westover, who was raised by fundamentalist Mormon parents on an Idaho mountain but who managed to earn a PhD. in history from Cambridge, was for me similar to reading a good mystery or thriller: once I got started, I couldn’t stop.  Her life on the mountain was so alien, the neglect she suffered from her father and the abuse inflicted on her by one of her brothers so unbelievable, and the way she internalized their misogyny so complete, I was driven to read on to find out how she escaped her destiny as an uneducated wife, mother, herbalist, and midwife.

She was aided and abetted in her escape by members of her family, like the brother who first made it to college, and to some extent her mother, a weak woman whose will bent to that of her (apparently mentally deranged) husband, but who at crucial times gave Tara the support she needed to break away.

Her experiences in college, after spending most of her childhood unschooled and then studying an ACT prep book on her own, were surreal. Think of an alien plopped down in a classroom, expected to know what to do. She did not understand that she was expected to read her textbooks, how to write a paper, how to prepare for a test. The surrealism increases when she travels to Cambridge University, first with a group of fellow Brigham Young University students and later as a graduate student. She was fortunate to find professors at BYU and at Cambridge who recognized her extraordinary ability and who went out of their way to mentor her.

But it was not easy to break away from the pull of her family and her religion. In the end, she managed it, but the story of how she did it is what makes the book so compelling.

Interesting quote, from Westover’s undergraduate days at BYU:

A few days before finals, I sat for an hour with my friend Josh in an empty classroom. He was reviewing his applications for law school. I was choosing my courses for the next semester,

“If you were a woman,” I asked, “Would you still study law?”

Josh didn’t look up. “If I were a woman,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to study it.”

But you’ve talked of nothing except law school for as long as I’ve known you,” I said. “It’s your dream, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” he admitted. “But it wouldn’t be if I were a woman. Women are made differently. They don’t have this ambition. Their ambition is for children.” He smiled at me as if I knew what he was talking about. And I did. I smiled, and for a few seconds we were in agreement.

Then: “But what if you were a woman, and somehow you felt exactly as you do now?”

Josh’s eyes fixed on the wall for a moment. He was really thinking about it. Then he said, “I’d know something was wrong with me.”

I’d been wondering whether something was wrong with me since the beginning of the semester, when I’d attended my first lecture on world affairs. I’d been wondering how I could be a woman and yet be drawn to unwomanly things.

To find out how she was able to break out of this misogynistic Mormon mold and reach for the sky, you have to read the book.

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My Beloved World

Posted by nliakos on August 30, 2019

by Sonia Sotomayor (Alfred A. Knopf, 2013)

Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor calls this a memoir rather than an autobiography, but I think autobiography is more apt. Although it does not talk about her time as a federal judge or on the high court, her life story leading up to her first appointment to the federal bench (the accomplishment of her lifelong goal, to be a judge) is told with great honesty and completeness. Her judicial career being still in progress, she chose not to describe it.

I had only the vaguest notion of who Sonia Sotomayor was before I read the book; having read it, I now hold her in the highest regard. She has faced adversity (a diagnosis of Type I diabetes as a young child; poverty; parents who did not get along, and a father who eventually left) but prevailed due to her own hard work and her open, probing mind. She could be the poster child for the Encyclopedia Britannica, having educated herself far beyond what she was taught in school by reading the home set her mother scrimped and saved to purchase for Sonia and her brother. She is a role model for every struggling student who overcomes linguistic differences to learn to write clearly and forcefully and who learns to think critically and argue a point, rather than just to regurgitate memorized facts. She writes candidly of her marriage and divorce to her childhood sweetheart, and of her acceptance of her single state and childlessness. Having succeeded in a legal career as a Latina woman “from the projects”, she has experienced discrimination and prejudice but has never allowed them to stand in the way of her desire to seek justice for others. Her story is truly an inspiration. I loved this book.

 

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Find Me Unafraid: Love, Loss, and Hope in an African Slum

Posted by nliakos on May 23, 2019

by Kennedy Odede and Jessica Posner; Forward by Nicholas Kristof (HarperCollins 2015)

Kennedy Odede grew up dirt poor in the teeming Nairobi slum of Kibera. Jessica Posner grew up in Colorado, privileged by her family’s comfortable economic situation and her white skin. They met when Jessica spent a semester in Nairobi, volunteering with SHOFCO (Shining Hope for Communities), the youth group Kennedy founded. This book tells the story of how they met, fell in love, and married (as well as the story of Kennedy’s life) in alternating chapters. What drew me to the book was the cross-cultural aspect of Jessica and Kennedy’s relationship. I was astonished by Kennedy’s frank description of the squalor in which he lived (in which people in Kibera continue to live). I wondered how he could possibly survive, despite the severe hunger endured over years, lack of basic hygiene and medical care, abuse and violence. Not only did he survive; he thrived,  became educated, and returned to Kibera to extend a helping hand to others. It’s really an inspiring story. One is not surprised that Jessica fell for Kennedy, but she does not make light of the challenges she faced living in the same conditions that Kennedy had known his entire life.

You can watch a nice TED talk that Jessica and Kennedy gave about the stages of forgiveness here.

This is an awesome book. In addition to the love story, the reader will be amazed at how Kennedy and Jessica managed to establish a free school for girls in Kibera. You can watch a short video about it here. To donate, go to https://support.shininghopeforcommunities.org/give/177552/#!/donation/checkout

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

From “Invictus” by William Earnest Henley

 

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On Two Feet and Wings: One Boy’s Amazing Story of Survival

Posted by nliakos on April 19, 2019

by Abbas Kazerooni (Skyscape 2014)

From the front matter page: “This book is based on real events that happened to me a long time ago when I was a child. To write it for you I have simplified some events and changed some details.”

Abbas Kazerooni is a California lawyer, actor, writer, and producer. Born in Iran in 1978 to formerly wealthy (under the Shah) parents, Abbas was nine years old when the regime, at war with Iraq since 1980, lowered the age at which boys could be drafted into the army (to serve as cannon fodder, basically) to eight. Terrified, the family decided to leave Iran. Abbas’ father’s passport had been confiscated, so they determined that he would stay behind, and Abbas and his mother would travel to Turkey and eventually to the U.K., where they had relatives.

But at the last minute, Marzieh Kazerooni was denied permission to get on the plane. Desperate, the parents let Abbas fly by himself to Istanbul, where they promised he would be met by a friend who would take care of him. The man did indeed meet the plane, but he did not take care of the boy. Instead of taking him home as he had promised to do, he handed Abbas a list of cheap hotels where Farsi was spoken and left. Abbas was alone in Istanbul, where he would live for several months until he finally received a visa for the U.K.

Abbas was very young and frightened, but he was also cautious, resourceful, and very lucky, He was lucky in that he happened to meet some very kind people who helped him (the taxi driver who helped him find the least unsuitable hotel that night; the hotel receptionist, who took a liking to him; some kind compatriots who translated for him at the British Consulate; and a consulate worker who took an interest in him.  He was cautious in that he carefully hid the money his parents had sent him with, eating only once a day, spending as little as possible, testing out the hotel receptionist and maid until he felt sure he could trust them not to rob him. And he was resourceful in that he had many great ideas about how to save, and eventually how to make, money. He ran errands in the marketplace and found various jobs for himself in the hotel (where he preferred to stay, feeling unsafe on the streets of Istanbul)–as the “tea boy” who served the other guests glasses of tea, as the shoeshine boy the hotel had never had before. Through it all, he hid his fear and distress from his parents; when he spoke to them, he intimated that he was staying in a better hotel than he was actually in and that everything was fine. But he shed many tears.

Abbas’ story reads like a novel. One can’t imagine how this little boy managed on his own for so long in a strange city where he knew no one and did not speak the language. But he did, and his story makes a great read.

Unfortunately, once he reached England, his trials continued. These are recounted in another book, The Boy with Two Lives. But eventually, he made his way to the United States, where he has apparently done very well for himself–no surprise, considering how resilient and clever he was at the ago of nine.

Posted in Autobiography, Memoir, Non-fiction, Recommended for ESL or EFL Learners | Tagged: , , , | Leave a Comment »

There Will Be No Miracles Here

Posted by nliakos on April 9, 2019

by Casey Gerald (Riverhead Books 2018)

I apparently placed a hold on this book, but I can’t actually remember placing it or why I wanted to read it. Nevertheless, when I was notified that it was available, I duly went and picked it up and read it. And it was interesting. . . . I just couldn’t figure out exactly where it was going or what Casey Gerald’s significance is.

Gerald had a difficult childhood, growing up poor in Dallas; his mother suffered from mental illness and abandoned the family when he was twelve; his father, a former college football star, spent time in prison. Casey was partly brought up by his grandmother and older sister. But he was a smart kid who wanted to please, and he was a good athlete; graduating from high school, he was selected to play football for Yale, which he had never heard of, and felt disrespected when it was suggested to him: Here was my own coach, saying in so many words that I was such a pathetic football player that he’d send me halfway around the world to play peewee football for a team nobody knew anything about. Yale changed his life’s trajectory forever.

He is black; he is gay; he is a Yale man; he graduated from Harvard Business School; he led a black men’s group at Yale, traveled and gave speeches within and outside of the U.S., worked for a Democratic think tank in Washington, D.C. during the Obama administration, attended a CPAC convention to see if he wanted to become a Republican, and considered a run for Congress. Lots of interesting stuff to write about in his young life.

Gerald’s style of writing is unique. It’s not dialect, although there are dialectal elements in it; it’s not intellectual, although there are big words, complicated thoughts, and references to literature and history. There is a kind of dry humor to it as he pierces through the shield of white complacency, but there are passages that break one’s heart, as when he writes about his friend Elijah’s suicide. He is unflinchingly honest. He writes about racism, and friendship, and mentoring. He writes about manipulating the system where who you know is more important than what you know and people are easily fooled by one who has a command of the language of the ruling elite. (This reminds me of Jamila Lyiscott’s wonderful TED talk about being articulate.) I liked the book, and not knowing anything about Casey Gerald before I read it, I never knew where it was headed, so it was full of surprises for me.

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Struck by Genius: How a Brain Injury Made Me a Mathematical Marvel

Posted by nliakos on February 7, 2019

by Jason Padgett with Maureen Seaberg (Houghton  Mifflin Harcourt 2014)

Jason Padgett was a mediocre student and a 31-year-old party boy who went to a karaoke bar with some friends one night and was violently assaulted by several thugs hoping to rob him. The traumatic brain injury (TBI) that he sustained that night left Padgett with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), synesthesia, and savant syndrome. It took him ten years to really understand all of these diagnoses; that journey is the subject of this book. But immediately following the attack, Padgett already experienced the visual “disturbances” that were to change his life and how he sees the world: “The world looked different: off-kilter, dreamlike. Everything that moved had trails of colored light following close behind it. There were triangles and squares in repeating patterns wherever I looked, from the windows to the lampposts to the street signs. . . . The glow of the streetlights seemed amplified. I could see the cars going by, little chipped shapes bouncing off their hoods.” Padgett never stopped seeing the underlying geometry of everything, even after his brain had healed. But he suddenly found himself fascinated by, and good at, mathematics, although he did not have the vocabulary to discuss it. Instead, he learned to draw exquisite copies of what he saw–pictures that helped him to understand and explain mathematical and physical concepts.

After a 3 1/2 year self-imposed exile from society during which he confined himself to his home, Jason Padgett bravely returned to the world and to school, taking classes at the local community college, where he was viewed as an eccentric. Little by little, he met people who recognized his newfound genius, and he learned about synesthesia and savant syndrome. He learned, among other things, that being born with one of these abilities, though rare, is more common than acquiring them, as he did. Jason Padgett is the only person in the world known to have acquired both synesthesia and savant syndrome as an adult.

It’s a fascinating story. You can also watch Padgett’s two TED talks: How Math Saved My Life and Alternate Realities from Relativity (TEDx Tacoma).

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