i heart ny

Reference: The World in a City: Traveling the Globe Through the Neighborhoods of New New York. By Joseph Berger

I started reading the above book and I am really excited. The book reads like a NY Times feature article (maybe it's a placebo effect--the author writes for the Times). And I am enjoying comparing how many of my observations match his.

The first chapter makes me want to get Kebabs and hummus and lentil soup. yummy. I don't think I had any Mediterranean food in NYC! So I started thinking about Hyde Park food. Ceders and The Nile for Mediterranean food.... but my sensory nostalgia also drifted to the Edwardo's wings, and the Pocket's bread. I miss my comfort food (Soupy Meal... hold the green onions please + Thai iced tea) from Noodles, etc.

Well anyway, I am really excited about the book... I was worried it'd be a very corny one dimensional cheer for multi-cultural-ism. But so far, it's quite sophisticated and lovely. Now is it accurate? I think so... but I don't think I will know for sure until I read about Flushing. If his white person observation comes close for northern queens, I will trust him about the other neighborhoods.

_________________

Reading too much was much warned against in the 18th century... which we today find so silly since reading too little is the epidemic of the day. However, I do wonder if I read too much at times. It's a way to escape and I do often vow to read my sorrows away. Well, to be completely honest, I don't read too much... it's that I spend too much time with books. I just love books. The binding, the paper, the font, the weight, the possibilities.

I was absolutely ecstatic today when I saw, waiting for me on the library shelf, Predictably Irrational. I have been wanting to read that book ever since I read that NYTimes article about keeping too many options open. But I was just waiting for the paperback to come out so that I wouldn't have to pay 20-25 dollars. I do much rather prefer (trade) paperback books. And now I won't buy the book at all. I mean it's probably a fun book, but not something I'd buy to read again. Aww...

Still, I am looking forward to reading the book... but should I read it now or should I wait to finish one of the four books I am currently reading? What do I do when I'd rather read that book more than the four I am currently reading? No no, I'll be disciplined and wait since I know too well that I feel uneasy when I have five actively reading books.

I. am. so. neurotic. Will I always be? Or will I grow old, dull, and, well, stable?

really long books

I have an ongoing list of books I want to read. Some books have been on the list for years, some dating back to high school. The reason why those lovely books can't get off the waitlist? They are too long. I want to read, for example:

Gone with the Wind
Middlemarch
War and Peace

Korea's place in the sun
A people's history of the United States

The interpretation of dreams
Being and nothingness

and

The Einstein and Virginia Woolf biographies.


Well, when I think of a book, I think 300 pages +/- 50 pages. So I am just not sure if I can get involved with a 500+ pg book. That is a huge commitment, and I know it won't be a monogamous relationship. If I want to finally get to the longer tomes, I need to either learn to read faster or work on my commitment issues. Both seem very challenging.

But I am dying to read some of the books listed above. So I've trying out a system where I am simultaneously reading 3-4 books at a time, making one of those 3 or 4 books a really long one. And it's sorta working for now, but I still feel some books get neglected.

Why is nothing in life easy, automatic, etc? The most basic skills, maybe especially those, need a lot of work. What to eat... when to sleep... how to talk to people... how to get things done efficiently... how to stay healthy... how to love... hard hard hard.

Reference: Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger

I read about 1/3 of this book back in the tenth grade when I was very much in love with Franny and Zooey. But for some reason, I did not remember a single detail as I read Nine Stories last week. Even I am guilty of advising students who don't like to sit still and read to try short stories, but I must say it's a pretty dumb advice. I have trouble with short fiction and I suspect I never finished this book in high school because I was just not getting it. Short stories are dense. They are usually bizarre. And I have to admit, sometimes I get to the end and feel nothing. And being as vain as I am, I don't feel a sense of accomplishment that I feel when finished with a book. No no... maybe it's not because I am vain, but because I am so neurotic. I collect and hog. So finishing a book lets me add it to my list, a collection of books read. But I currently don't have an ongoing collection of short stories. If I were to start one, I'd probably like short stories a lot more.

Well, so I liked the book. Some stories I liked more than others. The ones I especially liked were:

A Perfect Day for Bananafish
For Esme--with Love and Squalor
De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period
Teddy


Wow, that's half the book.

Well, my favorite was De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period. I guess I can relate to it the most, this taking detour, having a quarterlife crisis, coming of age story. It helped me indulge both my fantasies about getting an absolutely brand new life, and being an artist. And I absolutely loved the letter he wrote to the nun.... because it was so stupid, so immature, so inappropriate. And because I know the impulse to write a letter like that when I feel very much connected to someone I barely knew. And I am afraid, oh so embarrassed, that I probably have written and email or two like that. I have also received and email or two like that. And of course it made me feel uncomfortable and it's the kind of letter you don't reply to and feel slightly guilty about. I'd say when the guy decides to let the nun go, he became an adult. But that's just me, trying to turn everything into a coming-of-age story.

People--mostly adults, maybe only adults--told me I'd know when I become an adult with no longer a trace left over from adolescence. And well, it had happened. I don't remember the details of it anymore... but maybe it happened a couple of years ago. I distinctly felt adult one day. That childhood was no more. The very air I was breathing felt different. But now I think we never grow up because I don't feel adult anymore. I am just pretending... and reminding myself constantly that I am an adult, independent, responsible for all the mess I make, but none-the-less have to make my own decisions adult. Did people--mostly adults, only the adults--lie to me?

Today, I helped a student write the lamest essay about how a book makes you experience a world different from your own. It was so lame because it is so true. Says Virginia Woolf (to me today):

"The library's always the nicest room in the house," she quoted, and ran her eyes along the books. "the mirror of the soul" books were. ... she considered: Keats and Shelley; Yeats and Donne. Or perhaps not a poem; a life. The life of Garibaldi. The life of Lord Palmerston. Or perhaps not a person's life; a county's. The Antiquities of Durham; The Proceedings of the Archaeological Society of Nottingham. Or not a life at all, but science--Eddington, Darwin, or Jeans.

Between the Acts

Of course she notes that none of these books helps with a toothache, but books are nonetheless magical.

I have finished reading A Writer's Diary today and it feels like I've lost a friend. I started reading that book my second year in college. I still remember sitting in my immunology class feeling out of place in the sea of premeds. I don't know why I read that book waiting for the lecture to begin instead of talking to the people around me. I just distinctly remember reading it and feeling comforted.

It was sad when I was nearing the end of a page because I already knew the denouement so well: the end of her diary means the end of her days. I thought when someone decides to take one's life, it's after years of wanting death. But it seems v. woolf was concerned more with preserving life in her old age than with dying. Of course I am sure the diary has been heavily edited out by Leonard... but I do still try to piece together the psychological world of hers. I think that's exactly what Leonard wanted to prevent. He wanted to put together entries that show her as a writer only.

And well, I was surprised (I don't know why I should be) that writing was such a struggle for her. And I felt that towards the end, it was becoming too hard and labored. Writing is hard but it's wonderful to have a job where you create. I think people work for someone (office job), be a technician (doctor, lawyer), or create (artist, writer). I think we all want to be a creator, but settle for the other two. I think the perfect solution is to become a professor. You get paid, you don't have to be the best writer, and you can surround yourself with intelligent people.

Well I digress. So I do miss the book very much. I don't know why I read it so slowly. I finally made up my mind to finish it a few days ago and I felt a great resistance to that idea. Well, I think I should read Between the Acts now. I think that book is really the end of A Writer's Diary for some reason.

copycat

It's probably a safe guess that Michael Cunningham is a Virginia Woolf fan. But I was so ecstatic when I found out that Virginia Woolf had initially titled Mrs. Dalloway, The Hours. I thought I had found some great literary gem, a gem I mostly wanted to share with Ken. But anyway, yesterday, I found the phrase, specimen days, in Virginia Woolf's published journal, A Writer's Diary. Okay, maybe I am too ignorant, or this is a sign that English is not my native language... but I honestly have not seen the phrase "specimen days" anywhere else but as the title of Michael Cunningham's book. Is it possible that he got it from v. woolf's diary? I mean it's such a poetic phrase. It certainly stands out. He probably read woolf's A Writer's Diary when he was researching for The Hours...Well, it's high plausible that he has read A Writer's Diary way before writing The Hours because he admires v. woolf. Would anyone correct me if I am wrong and that the phrase, specimen days, is actually a really common term?

Well whatever the verdict, I am always glad to think about how there are other v. woolf fans out there. It makes me feel connected to humanity or something.

things are not what they seem

I have this desire for the last couple of weeks to resurrect this blog. So here goes. I don't know why I don't write here more frequently. I guess in general I am trapped in a state of inaction. But other than that, I think I'd feel incredibly guilty writing here when I can use my time online to catch up with my emails and facebook messages. But I think the emails are never going to disappear and if I keep putting up the fight, I'll just go insane. So well, I think I need a break from email (not)writing for now.

I've been reading a couple of books in transactional analysis, a concept I have never encountered before. The two books are:

Games People Play by Eric Berne
I'm OK - You're OK by Thomas A. Harris.

I thought it was odd I had never heard of transactional analysis before given that I tried to familiarize myself with psychoanalytic literature in college. Okay, I am not particularly well read in that field, but still... I wouldn't have salvaged those books from a box at the Hyde Park book fair if it weren't for my high school psychology teacher mentioning those books.

And they are great! Of course given that psychoanalysis is not the hippest thing anymore in psychiatry, those books are a bit dated. The situations elucidated by Eric Berne seem a bit archaic. But the books are nonetheless irresistible. You read about each game and immediately recognize it.

I think we must be careful though. The worse thing that a reader can do is to look for the pathological game play in every social transaction, especially in the loved ones. That's why I fear recommending these books to certain people who are prone to victimize themselves in every relationship. After all, Berne clearly states not all relationships are games.

The frustrating thing about psychoanalytic literature always is that you can't prove the validity of its claims. So it's hard to know for sure if the brain before the age of 5 has recorded every parental action, words, and attitudes to create a "parent" personality in each of us. But all of the claims are so completely feasible.

Well, I don't think we should fret too much about the validity of these claims though. The take home message really is that we often play these games, which are most of the time innocuous, to fill up social time. I find that very compelling. We don't have the time and the energy to create an intimate relationship with everyone we meet. We also can't ignore the other human being who come into our social space. Hence the games. Some of the more serious and pathological games, I think, are not lost to history--a lot of the underlying issues are easily recognized, I think, by mental health professionals today. But even the pathological games end up not causing too much mess in a person's life. They more often than not get weaved into the fabric of someone's life because we are so good at finding others who will play the games we prefer.

The other take home message is of course that things are not always what they seem. Our words and deeds may have ulterior motives, which aren't always sinister. It's just that we are not always totally self-aware. So correct interpretation of intentions are always elusive.

The copies I have of these books are incredibly old. And as I read them, I often think about the previous owner. I wonder if that person also thought what I was thinking. I wonder if that person gained insight from these books. I wonder if that person ever finished these books or bought them because they were really popular in the 70s and wanted to sound smart. I like the yellowed used books. I like the history that comes with it. But it's also a bit gruesome, like digging up a grave.

I wonder if I never came across these books because they are not academic. Eric Berne and his students would be very upset, but I do think they are derivatives of Freud. I think in that I'm Ok- you're ok book, it specifically says the parent-adult-child is not a watered down version of the superego-ego-id model. But the similarities are hard to ignore. And the explicit goal in these books was to make psychoanalysis popular and easy to understand for the layman. I am not saying the books aren't profound because they aren't academic. I actually really appreciate reading these self-help books from the 70s that aren't so watered down, cheesy and flashy like the ones that are published today.

And I find it fascinating that people in the 70s read these books for fun. It's like time travel. Today, the popular sellers are the approachable cognitive neuroscience books like Stumbling on Happiness and The Tipping Point. Back then, I suppose the people were just as fascinated with the mind, but the best sellers were the approachable psychanalysis books. A couple of decades from today, people would find the experiment based cognitive psychology best sellers dated. I hope we have made some real breakthroughs about the brain and the mind by then.

a plan

With so much stuff to read, I've been having a hard time reading everything I want to read. I am currently very interested in organizing my life (maybe it's the new year's thing). And in the spirit of actively and consciously making room for everything I want in life, I have tried to make at least a bit of time everyday reading a book. My goal was to read at least 50 pages/day. It's been working okay, but some books are REALLY long, and I am not very faithful to the book I have wed. I vow in sickness and in the presence other more fascinating things in my life, but I invariably end up cheating or at least flirting with another book, or two, or three.

Hence a new plan. I will read 4 books at a time. I know some people think reading too many books at once never ends well. But I think it works for me and I get to indulge myself in reading up on my diverse interests.

Roughly, the four books are chosen from the following categories:

1. a really long book that I wanna chip away at.
2. a science non fiction.
3. a social science non fiction.
4. fiction/memoir.

And the actual selected books are:

1. Einstein
2. The Living Clock
3. Culture Theory
4. The Accidental Asian

Oh and I gotta go read those Asian books that Sheenae lent me 1.5 years ago. She's coming back from Japan in a few months and I'd feel horribly guilty if I don't read those books she lent me. I have a history of not reading books Shee recommends me... but I finally read Madame Bovary, a book she recommended when we were seniors in high school, and I liked it a lot. Besides, the books do look interesting so yea, I will be reading Shee's Asian Studies book in the next few months. Now as for how I'll reconcile that with my cultural crisis and wanting to escape the Asian culture, I don't know.