What I’ve been reading…

Rogue Island by Bruce DeSilva.  If you are a fan of hard-boiled detective fiction and actively mourned the recent death of one of the best in the genre, Robert B. Parker (forgive the insouciance, but he’s Jesus to the God(s) Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett), then you will appreciate writers like DeSilva.  What makes him even better is that he’s a native Rhode Islander and former Providence Journal writer, so his take on the politics of this state feels authentic.  Rhode Islanders like to think they are special in lots of ways—as if they are the only ones who like personalized license plates and buy bread and milk at any threat of a snowstorm—but in political malfeasance, this state has few rivals (Chicago comes to mind).  Every day, there’s an aging mobster known as “Chippy” or “Whitey” who is finally going to jail or died in jail.  But I digress.  The protagonist in Rogue Island is a newspaperman with his flaws (endearing of course), an aging car he calls Secretariat, and a flair for choosing the wrong women, drinking the right beer, and getting into a fair amount of trouble investigating State House machinations.  This book came out a couple of years ago, and he has a new one called Cliff Walk that I will swipe from Nels’ bedside table when he falls asleep tonight.

Starboard Sea by Amber Dermott.   Jason Prosper is a privileged white boy trying to make it through prep school and into Princeton.  Trouble is, he’s of this milieu but doesn’t really belong there.  Sound familiar?  I am not sure we need an updated (1980’s style) version of Catcher in the Rye, and I have my doubts as to the authenticity of a middle-aged woman writing as a teenage boy, regardless of her familiarity with this world.  Holden’s voice in Catcher was so clear and smart and in pain.  In this book, Jason’s voice is not as immediate or raw, despite having experienced just as much tragedy.  To not know what happened with best friend Cal who committed suicide, or even with Aidan in the Swan Boat until the final pages, meant that the narrator himself was withholding something from us.  That distance may have served the story from a plot perspective, and I’m sure Amber Dermott agonized over that choice, but it didn’t serve my connection or understanding of Jason.  That being said, I enjoyed learning about sailing as a sport, East Coast prep school privilege, and refamiliarizing myself with 80’s culture.

The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg.  I heard Terry Gross interview Duhigg on “Fresh Air” and A.J. Jacobs name-checked him in his newest one, Drop Dead Healthy.  The book is basically about how we acquire habits as individuals, institutions, and organizations.  I found Habit useful but a bit redundant and limited.  Duhigg seems to be using a purely cognitivist approach when it comes to habit, ignoring deep sociocultural and psychological needs that lead to habits.  I like that he has a framework for changing bad habits, which is: 

1.       Identify the routine

2.       Experiment with rewards

3.       Isolate a cue (location, time, emotional state, other people, and/or immediately preceding action)

4.       Have a plan

But how do I cultivate good habits?  And how are these habits connected to my identities and deeply scripted personal and political discourses?

On another literary note, my parents are getting ready to downsize and my mom sent me some of my childhood favorites, most of which were her childhood favorites.  I dipped back into Little Women and sat mesmerized for an hour reading the last chapters of the book.  I won’t reread the whole thing—it’s a bit preachy for me--but do plan to reread the sequel Little Men, which I loved.  In Alcott’s world, boys may act worse but are forgiven more easily, so there is less preachiness.  Makes me want to go back to Concord…

Little Women

Little Men

Saratoga Trunk

Queenie Peavey

True Grit

Black Beauty

Hans Brinker (or the Silver Skates)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

Bambi

A Wrinkle in Time

The Incredible Journey

My summer reading will definitely include many of these.  I wonder how these will feel to me as an adult?  The animal books (Black Beauty, Bambi, The Incredible Journey) were often painful to read, so I’m not sure I want to revisit them, but maybe I should anyway.