Like Caroline Knapp's " Drinking: A Love Story," and like Sarah Hepola's " Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget",
Koren Zailckas' "Smashed" chronicles a young woman's increasing
entanglement with alcohol, what happened during that (9 year)
"relationship," and how, at the age of 23, she untied herself from the
vice-grip of abusive drinking. Given this common theme, Knapp and Hepola
and Zailckas all paint with similarly-colored palettes; but the
portraits which result are as individualized as these three unique
women.
Zailckas divides her book according to the main phases of her brief drinking career: (1) The Initiation:
This includes her "First Taste," her "First Waste," and "First Offense"
(i.e., the first time alcohol-related misbehavior strained her
relationships). (2) The Usual: In college, drinking went from
"novelty" to "everyday"--and drinking, in turn, structured her days into
a "circular configuration, like a holding pattern" (page 120). (3) Excess:
Upon joining a sorority, "excess is my main objective for any
night....I aim to exceed a state of being just-drunk, and enter instead
into a state...like annihilation of brain waves (page 157). (4) Abuse:
By junior year of college, Zailckas begins to "see how deep into
dependence [she is]" and makes attempts to "hoist [her]self out of it"
(page 247).
And yet, though Zailckas' memoir unfolds in phases,
suggesting a kind of progress, she also points out how alcohol-abuse
leads to life-stagnation. After all, Zailckas observes that she began
drinking to alleviate her feeling "ashamed, self-conscious and small"
(page xvi)--only to end up, seven years later, feeling "sad and
secretive and volatile" (page 265). Zailckas explicitly describes the
vicious, stagnant circle: drinking ruptures her relationships, leading
to regretful "sore spots"--but "this kind of self-loathing used to be
the reason I drank in the first place" (page 264).
Zailckas'
memoir is rich with remarks on relationships. Drinking promises a
shortcut past the inner doubts and insecurities that make relating to
others an awkward exercise; at first, drinking makes her feel
"comfortable" and "confident" (page 24). But taking this shortcut comes
with costs--at first subtle ones, then lead-heavy ones. Liquid courage
lacks discretion: "I plunge into [situations], I feel frightened,
and then I try to pull myself out" (page 269). Liquid courage also
lacks what psychologists call "agency"--Zailckas writes of signing over "power of attorney" to alcohol (page 154), whereby it's no longer I who decides, but substances and situations and other people deciding for me. Add to this the creeping ubiquity of blackouts, of lengthening duration, and one can only guess
at what was "decided" in one's "absence"--Zailckas starkly captures the
eerie atmosphere of how "things you can't remember can terrorize you"
(page 75), how the mental vacuums of forgotten events are rapidly rushed
by "dread and denial that thickens with time like emotional scar
tissue" (page xii).
Most of all, the alcoholic shortcut of liquid courage bears the price that the resulting relationships lack authenticity.
"What's responsible for [this] light-headed feeling?" Zailckas finds
herself wondering, "Is it the Molson or the boy who is running his
fingers through the ends of your hair? Are you chatting because you're
drunk, or because your connecting with someone? ... [W]hich came first,
the liquor or the Greg?" (page 64) And once Zailckas abandons drinking,
she's unable to relate to her friend and roommate Vanessa: "We've been
inseparable for the past ten months, but we don't have a damn thing,
aside from alcohol, to talk about" (page 324). Zailckas also points out
that alcohol has a way of preempting relationships with constructive
people: "I know that as long as I keep drinking," she writes, "I will
drive back everyone who is good-natured. Only people who are as drunk
and damaged as I am will stay" (page 330).
One last noteworthy
nuance of Zailckas' memoir is the sparing sprinklings of literary and
feminist spices. Zailckas brushes literary touchstones on recalling her
journey: Rilke's "The Grown-Up," Plath's "Mushrooms," Laura Mulvey's " Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema."
And since alcohol surrenders agency, Zailckas points out how sobriety
becomes a feminist choice: "I've learned," she writes, "that if any of
us, girls and women, want true strength born of stability, we need to
find a more productive outlet. Drinking...allows the world to rejoice in
our weakness. Rather than turning our dissatisfaction inward..., rather
than allowing our frustrations to be wasted and waste away inside of
us, I think we should use them as ammunition against the world they were
borne of" (page 333).
In all these ways (and more!) Zailckas' portrait is vivid, invigorating, and enlightening. I'd happily read it again.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1745418617
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Review of grl2grl by Julie Anne Peters
The identity crisis called "adolescence" is hard enough for cis straight
youths--but what's it like to weather that teenage tumult as gay or
trans or bi or questioning? This bouquet of 10 short stories by Julie
Anne Peters gives the reader a chance to learn.
Julie Anne Peters has a heart which resonates sympathetically with the struggles of her characters--people who, even in the twenty-first century, still find themselves marginalized as outcasts for their variant sexual identities. Peters wins the reader's sympathy for these characters by allowing us to peer through these young people's hearts as they navigate a disapproving world. In "Can't Stop the Feeling," we feel the ambivalence of a girl who is trying to summon the courage to walk into her first Gay-Straight Alliance meeting. In "Outside/Inside," we feel the romantic jitters of a girl trying to choose the perfectly-messaged Hallmark Card for her (same sex) crush. In "Boi," we feel our hearts humiliated right along with Vince, a trans youth, as he is bullied and viciously violated in a manner so cruel I literally gasped.
"My god doesn't scorn or condemn me," says Aimee in the story 'Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder.' "My god is kind and benevolent and accepting. We made a secret pact. I'd be the best person I could be and God would save me a place in Heaven. My heaven. The real one, where it doesn't matter who you are or how you look or how you sacrifice your dignity and self-respect most days just to be true to yourself" (page 77). Julie Anne Peters wishes for a warm and welcoming world--for everyone. Through these short stories, which allowed this (straight white male) reader to empathize with Peters' characters' pain at being excluded, Peters' enlightening fiction shows how short-stories might invite us to make Aimee's Heaven a place on Earth.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1740439250
Julie Anne Peters has a heart which resonates sympathetically with the struggles of her characters--people who, even in the twenty-first century, still find themselves marginalized as outcasts for their variant sexual identities. Peters wins the reader's sympathy for these characters by allowing us to peer through these young people's hearts as they navigate a disapproving world. In "Can't Stop the Feeling," we feel the ambivalence of a girl who is trying to summon the courage to walk into her first Gay-Straight Alliance meeting. In "Outside/Inside," we feel the romantic jitters of a girl trying to choose the perfectly-messaged Hallmark Card for her (same sex) crush. In "Boi," we feel our hearts humiliated right along with Vince, a trans youth, as he is bullied and viciously violated in a manner so cruel I literally gasped.
"My god doesn't scorn or condemn me," says Aimee in the story 'Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder.' "My god is kind and benevolent and accepting. We made a secret pact. I'd be the best person I could be and God would save me a place in Heaven. My heaven. The real one, where it doesn't matter who you are or how you look or how you sacrifice your dignity and self-respect most days just to be true to yourself" (page 77). Julie Anne Peters wishes for a warm and welcoming world--for everyone. Through these short stories, which allowed this (straight white male) reader to empathize with Peters' characters' pain at being excluded, Peters' enlightening fiction shows how short-stories might invite us to make Aimee's Heaven a place on Earth.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1740439250
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Review of Change: Principles of Problem Formation and Problem Resolution by Paul Watzlawick, John H. Weakland, Richard Fisch
Life has its difficulties--aches and pains, disagreements and disputes,
disappointments and discomforts. So whether or not our lives are
satisfying is often a matter of whether we manage life's difficulties
constructively--or whether we mismanage these difficulties and make them
worse.
This is the starting-point of the little book by psychologists Paul Watzlawick, John H. Weakland, and Richard Fisch. The book basically divides into three parts: (1) Describing ways life's difficulties are sometimes mismanaged, thus turning them into full-blown *problems* (chapters 3-6). (2) Describing ways that people can give up the dysfunctional "solutions" they've been practicing, and trade them for different, healthy management of life's difficulties (chapters 7-9). (3) Real-life examples of steps (1) and (2) in action, taken from clinical practice (chapter 10).
The authors have done a masterful job: their examples illustrate their methods, and their methods illuminate the examples. The authors often offer suggestions seem appear counter-intuitive; for instance, while psychologists are often portrayed as seeking the "root causes" of patients' psychological problems in earlier traumatic events, Watzlawick et al actually advise *against* asking such "why"-questions in certain cases:
"It often happens that we...become aware of the important *facts*," they write, quoting philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, "only if we *suppress* the question 'Why?'" (page 84).
This "Don't Ask Why"-principle comes to the fore in several clinical cases described in Chapter 10. Here's one such case: Strange as it may seem, the authors observe,
"...quite a few people seem to enter therapy not for the purpose of resolving a problem and being themselves changed in the process, but [instead] behave as if they wanted to *defeat* the expert and presumably 'prove'...that their problem *cannot* be solved" (page 132).
Patients/Clients like this will often ask for advice, then immediately *reject* the advice, pointing to obstacles that "prevent" them from acting on the (good) advice. (Psychiatrist Eric Berne has famously called this the "Why Don't You...?/Yes, but..." Game.) In response, the authors advise against "the time-honored exercise in futility of asking *why* some people should play the game of...'Help me, but I won't let you'..." Rather, the therapist needs to simply "*accept* the fact that there *are* such people, [and] concentrate [instead] on *what* they are doing...and *what* can be done about it" (page 138).
I only have one small complaint about this book. In the first two chapters, the authors introduce their "Theoretical Perspective" by drawing on some rather advanced subjects in mathematics: Group Theory (a domain of Abstract Algebra) and Bertrand Russell's Theory of Logical Types (a construct of Modern Set Theory). Most readers' eyes may glaze over at this early point in the book.
Since I was a math major in college, though, I found that the authors really didn't need the actual mathematical examples. So I might offer a bit of advice to readers who don't want to be distracted by the authors' (mercifully brief) foray into advanced math:
1) Whenever the authors talk about "groups" or "group theory," just think of "re-arranging deck chairs on the Titanic" or when a client "trades one addiction for another." In other words: the pieces and faces might change, but not the basic "game"
2) Whenever the authors talk about the "theory of types" or "meta-levels," just think of the client's need to "take a step back" or "take a broader perspective on their problem (and the failed solutions they have attempted)."
Aside from that minor quibble, I found this to be an insightful and thought-provoking book about a deeply important Life-topic.
This is the starting-point of the little book by psychologists Paul Watzlawick, John H. Weakland, and Richard Fisch. The book basically divides into three parts: (1) Describing ways life's difficulties are sometimes mismanaged, thus turning them into full-blown *problems* (chapters 3-6). (2) Describing ways that people can give up the dysfunctional "solutions" they've been practicing, and trade them for different, healthy management of life's difficulties (chapters 7-9). (3) Real-life examples of steps (1) and (2) in action, taken from clinical practice (chapter 10).
The authors have done a masterful job: their examples illustrate their methods, and their methods illuminate the examples. The authors often offer suggestions seem appear counter-intuitive; for instance, while psychologists are often portrayed as seeking the "root causes" of patients' psychological problems in earlier traumatic events, Watzlawick et al actually advise *against* asking such "why"-questions in certain cases:
"It often happens that we...become aware of the important *facts*," they write, quoting philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, "only if we *suppress* the question 'Why?'" (page 84).
This "Don't Ask Why"-principle comes to the fore in several clinical cases described in Chapter 10. Here's one such case: Strange as it may seem, the authors observe,
"...quite a few people seem to enter therapy not for the purpose of resolving a problem and being themselves changed in the process, but [instead] behave as if they wanted to *defeat* the expert and presumably 'prove'...that their problem *cannot* be solved" (page 132).
Patients/Clients like this will often ask for advice, then immediately *reject* the advice, pointing to obstacles that "prevent" them from acting on the (good) advice. (Psychiatrist Eric Berne has famously called this the "Why Don't You...?/Yes, but..." Game.) In response, the authors advise against "the time-honored exercise in futility of asking *why* some people should play the game of...'Help me, but I won't let you'..." Rather, the therapist needs to simply "*accept* the fact that there *are* such people, [and] concentrate [instead] on *what* they are doing...and *what* can be done about it" (page 138).
I only have one small complaint about this book. In the first two chapters, the authors introduce their "Theoretical Perspective" by drawing on some rather advanced subjects in mathematics: Group Theory (a domain of Abstract Algebra) and Bertrand Russell's Theory of Logical Types (a construct of Modern Set Theory). Most readers' eyes may glaze over at this early point in the book.
Since I was a math major in college, though, I found that the authors really didn't need the actual mathematical examples. So I might offer a bit of advice to readers who don't want to be distracted by the authors' (mercifully brief) foray into advanced math:
1) Whenever the authors talk about "groups" or "group theory," just think of "re-arranging deck chairs on the Titanic" or when a client "trades one addiction for another." In other words: the pieces and faces might change, but not the basic "game"
2) Whenever the authors talk about the "theory of types" or "meta-levels," just think of the client's need to "take a step back" or "take a broader perspective on their problem (and the failed solutions they have attempted)."
Aside from that minor quibble, I found this to be an insightful and thought-provoking book about a deeply important Life-topic.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Review of Sarah Hepola, Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget
I've been reading books of this genre for 20 years. The first one I read
was Caroline Knapp's "Drinking: A Love Story" (1996). As it turns out,
Sarah Hepola was reading Knapp, too: "I read Caroline Knapp's [book]
three times, with tears dripping down my cheeks and a glass of white
wine in my hand....and I would think, 'Yes, yes, she gets it'" (page
143).
It should come as no surprise, then, that despite the 15-year gap between their experiences (Knapp was born in 1959; Hepola in 1974), the shapes of their addictive spirals have a number of twists in common: Turning to alcohol to silence the "inner critic" and "pinwheel of anxiety" (pages 23, 93); The blackouts becoming increasingly common; watching life become one crisis after another; having friends share their concern, then distance themselves from the drama (pages 76-78, 156-160); Hitting bottom (pages 131-132) and then getting better (with a love/hate relationship with 12 Step Groups [pages 141-143]).
Hepola's memoir illustrates the truth of the old drinker's couplet: "Alcohol gave me wings to fly / And then it took away the sky." In gritty and vivid detail, Hepola shares alcohol's insidious Boomerang Effect: How she drank, at first, to bridge her anxious distance from people--but eventually found people, anxious over her drinking, distancing themselves from her (Chapter 8); How drinking, at first, gave her a carefree attitude--but eventually robbed her of the ability to practice daily self-caretaking (Chapter 9); How drinking, at first, helped her say "yes" to sex--but eventually robbed her of the presence of mind and integrity to say "no" when she needed to (Chapter 10); How drinking, at first, seemed to enable her creativity by stifling her "inner critic"-- but eventually robbed her of a writer's most necessary tools: observation, relflection, and memory (Chapter 11).
Hepola's book grips the heart and doesn't let go. Her gift as a writer carries us through the perils with her: we feel her anxiety, her pain, her confusion, but also, when she finds her way out of the chaos, we feel her strength, as well. I have no doubt that her book will be helpful to others facing similar problems--just as Caroline Knapp's book helped Hepola realize she wasn't alone in what she was feeling.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1537720375
It should come as no surprise, then, that despite the 15-year gap between their experiences (Knapp was born in 1959; Hepola in 1974), the shapes of their addictive spirals have a number of twists in common: Turning to alcohol to silence the "inner critic" and "pinwheel of anxiety" (pages 23, 93); The blackouts becoming increasingly common; watching life become one crisis after another; having friends share their concern, then distance themselves from the drama (pages 76-78, 156-160); Hitting bottom (pages 131-132) and then getting better (with a love/hate relationship with 12 Step Groups [pages 141-143]).
Hepola's memoir illustrates the truth of the old drinker's couplet: "Alcohol gave me wings to fly / And then it took away the sky." In gritty and vivid detail, Hepola shares alcohol's insidious Boomerang Effect: How she drank, at first, to bridge her anxious distance from people--but eventually found people, anxious over her drinking, distancing themselves from her (Chapter 8); How drinking, at first, gave her a carefree attitude--but eventually robbed her of the ability to practice daily self-caretaking (Chapter 9); How drinking, at first, helped her say "yes" to sex--but eventually robbed her of the presence of mind and integrity to say "no" when she needed to (Chapter 10); How drinking, at first, seemed to enable her creativity by stifling her "inner critic"-- but eventually robbed her of a writer's most necessary tools: observation, relflection, and memory (Chapter 11).
Hepola's book grips the heart and doesn't let go. Her gift as a writer carries us through the perils with her: we feel her anxiety, her pain, her confusion, but also, when she finds her way out of the chaos, we feel her strength, as well. I have no doubt that her book will be helpful to others facing similar problems--just as Caroline Knapp's book helped Hepola realize she wasn't alone in what she was feeling.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1537720375
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Timothy Chambers, Review of Science and the World, By Jeffrey E. Foss
Science and the World: Philosophical Approaches, edited by Jeffrey Foss [Book Review]
Teaching Philosophy 38 (4):459-463 (2015)https://www.scribd.com/document/294239408/Timothy-Chambers-Review-of-Science-and-the-World-By-Jeffrey-E-Foss
Even a cursory review of the literature brings to light scores of articles treating the topic of “student relativism,” including several essays appearing in this journal.1 Not surprisingly, several commentators sense that student relativism finds a partial source in a thesis we might dub student positivism: the view, roughly, that “scientific knowledge . . . is the only valid knowledge.” (524) Stephen Satris, for instance, describes encountering a “typical student reaction . . . that while scientific facts (which can be proven) might be an exception, everything else—opinions, views, feelings, values, lifestyle, ideals, activities, religion, taste—is after all relative”; Richard Momeyer notes a similar student distinction between “those quantitative, ‘scientific’ areas of inquiry in which real knowledge is attainable (‘facts’), and those fields of inquiry not yet blessed by scientific method, such as philosophy, where all is a matter of (subjective) non-confirmable opinion.”2 If, as these authors suggest, a reflexive student relativism partially results from a simplistic view of the natural sciences, then this provides one strong motivation for texts which aim to provide, as does this anthology, “a philosophical introduction to science . . . ready-to-read by the average freshman straight out of high school.” (xiii) Foss has gone to great lengths in his effort to make this text so-“ready-to-read” by newcomers to academic philosophy.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Review of Virgin by Radhika Sanghani
Virgin (Virgin, #1)
by
by
Radhika Sanghani (Goodreads Author)
Radhika Sanghani is a delighful writer--spritely, spirited and a spanking to conventional views.
As the title suggests, Sanghani's main character Ellie Kolstakis is 21 years old, a college senior, an aspiring writer, and--GASP!--a virgin. In Sanghani's novel (which is 85% Brit Chick Lit and 15% Fem Crit), Kolstakis traverses the bumpy road towards First Intimacy with honesty and humor. Along the way, she grapples with the burdens and challenges and double-standards women bear, from sexual judgmentalism to contraception to STDs to the Hollywood Brazilian (which Ellie re-names the "Hitler").
As can be guessed from the previous paragraph, Radhika Sanghani pulls no punches, bars no holds, and spares no detail. Sanghani's novel is like a hybrid between Judy Blume and Candace Bushnell. While, as a guy, I repeatedly blushed and "OhNoSheDi'int!"ed reading it, Sanghani's sensitive and forthright voice made it well-worth the read. Frankly, I wish I'd read this book when I was 21; I might have been a more understanding person.
I can't help but think that this book would be great to read side-by-side with feminist Jessica Valenti's book, "The Purity Myth," since Sanghani brings fictional life to a number of Valenti's philosophical points.
As the title suggests, Sanghani's main character Ellie Kolstakis is 21 years old, a college senior, an aspiring writer, and--GASP!--a virgin. In Sanghani's novel (which is 85% Brit Chick Lit and 15% Fem Crit), Kolstakis traverses the bumpy road towards First Intimacy with honesty and humor. Along the way, she grapples with the burdens and challenges and double-standards women bear, from sexual judgmentalism to contraception to STDs to the Hollywood Brazilian (which Ellie re-names the "Hitler").
As can be guessed from the previous paragraph, Radhika Sanghani pulls no punches, bars no holds, and spares no detail. Sanghani's novel is like a hybrid between Judy Blume and Candace Bushnell. While, as a guy, I repeatedly blushed and "OhNoSheDi'int!"ed reading it, Sanghani's sensitive and forthright voice made it well-worth the read. Frankly, I wish I'd read this book when I was 21; I might have been a more understanding person.
I can't help but think that this book would be great to read side-by-side with feminist Jessica Valenti's book, "The Purity Myth," since Sanghani brings fictional life to a number of Valenti's philosophical points.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Review of What Is Life?: Investigating the Nature of Life in the Age of Synthetic Biology by Ed Regis
What Is Life?: Investigating the Nature of Life in the Age of Synthetic Biology
by
"Despite the enormous fund of information that [biologists] have provided," wrote Carl Sagan in 1970, "it is a remarkable fact that...there is no generally accepted definition of life." This book provides a gripping, (very) brief tour of the present "enormous fund of information" we now have on living functions:
1) Replication (the discovery of DNA in 1954; the breaking of the nucleotide/amino-acid Genetic Code in the 1960s--on through the Recombinant DNA revolution of the 1970s through "synthetic" viruses composed from genetic scratch in the 1980s),
2) Metabolism (the Krebs cycle; the universal role of ATP),
3) Evolution (the Modern Synthesis uniting genetics and natural selection)
Regis also describes attempts in this century to devise novel lifelike systems in the form of artificial "protocells" and chemical "chells"
Despite this veritable avalanche of information of how living systems work, it remains a baffling fact that the simple question, "What is life?" remains as disputed as ever. One begins to wonder whether this question might be an empty philosopher's quixotic quest. In this spirit, there might be something to be said for Edouard Machery's dilemma-diagnosis in his essay (discussed by Regis), "Why I Stopped Worrying About the Definition of Life...and Why You Should as Well" (2006): "the project of defining life is either impossible or pointless," he writes, since either 'life' refers to "a traditional and ill-defined 'folk notion'" or else the definition of 'life' is to be fixed by "a precise, scientific theoretical concept." If the former, then defining 'life' slides into Socratic silliness; but, if the latter, then *every* scientific sub-discipline will have its own 'fixed' definition...and there's nothing to be said beyond that (pp. 158-159).
I can't help but think that anyone who gives Regis's primer a read will soon be inspired to follow up by exploring many of the scientific vistas Regis points out.
by
"Despite the enormous fund of information that [biologists] have provided," wrote Carl Sagan in 1970, "it is a remarkable fact that...there is no generally accepted definition of life." This book provides a gripping, (very) brief tour of the present "enormous fund of information" we now have on living functions:
1) Replication (the discovery of DNA in 1954; the breaking of the nucleotide/amino-acid Genetic Code in the 1960s--on through the Recombinant DNA revolution of the 1970s through "synthetic" viruses composed from genetic scratch in the 1980s),
2) Metabolism (the Krebs cycle; the universal role of ATP),
3) Evolution (the Modern Synthesis uniting genetics and natural selection)
Regis also describes attempts in this century to devise novel lifelike systems in the form of artificial "protocells" and chemical "chells"
Despite this veritable avalanche of information of how living systems work, it remains a baffling fact that the simple question, "What is life?" remains as disputed as ever. One begins to wonder whether this question might be an empty philosopher's quixotic quest. In this spirit, there might be something to be said for Edouard Machery's dilemma-diagnosis in his essay (discussed by Regis), "Why I Stopped Worrying About the Definition of Life...and Why You Should as Well" (2006): "the project of defining life is either impossible or pointless," he writes, since either 'life' refers to "a traditional and ill-defined 'folk notion'" or else the definition of 'life' is to be fixed by "a precise, scientific theoretical concept." If the former, then defining 'life' slides into Socratic silliness; but, if the latter, then *every* scientific sub-discipline will have its own 'fixed' definition...and there's nothing to be said beyond that (pp. 158-159).
I can't help but think that anyone who gives Regis's primer a read will soon be inspired to follow up by exploring many of the scientific vistas Regis points out.
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