Of Love and Shadows

Of Love and Shadows written by the brilliant modern-day Scheherazade that is Isabel Allende (ah-YEN-day) was not as wonderful as I wanted it to be, but it turned out to be just as spellbinding as I would expect of her. Let me begin...

I was told by an history professor who I admired that his favorite author was Allende. This alone made her writings seem intimidating, but I feared not and read The House of the Spirits, Eva Luna, and The Stories of Eva Luna; three of the most brilliantly written books I have ever had the pleasure of reading. They are magical and desperate and violent and erotic. She continues Latin America's tradition of magical realism and wields her pen with precision, turning out stories that are absolutely fantastic, dreamlike, and very real. It isn't enough to say Allende is my favorite author, I adore her books; she dashes any goals of authorship I may have because I simply am not good enough. Of Love and Shadows wasn't what I expected because in it Allende cast off the gauzy shroud of magical realism in favor of a brutal and honest look at human suffering. I was looking for an adventurous fairy tale and got a heavy dose of why living in the United States with the Bill of Rights is such a treasure.

That having been said, Of Love and Shadows is one of Allende's shorter novels, relating a story of desperate love and a psyche awakened to the horrors of living under a military dictatorship in Latin America (read: Chile in the 1970s following the coup that ousted Allende's uncle, socialist president Salvador Allende). Irene Beltrán is the protagonist and Francisco Leal is there too. He's lovely. He rides a motorcycle and has long hair and is called Francisco. Mmmm...

Sorry. So there is a mine and there are corpses and lovemaking and desaparecidos. Allende manages to pull the reader into a story of covert grave digging, people being "disappeared," and the families they leave behind, all in a way that makes it believable. This is an important element because while the story in the book may not be fact, it nonetheless happened to thousands of people, and thousands of families, and continues to happen all over the world, today, right now, as you're reading this. This is the kind of thing we never studied in high school in the US because there wasn't enough time, or it didn't relate to the US, or we all partook in an outrageously racist history curriculum, or because the CIA doesn't want us to know (you decide, get back to me). I am thankful to a Spanish teacher in high school who wove language, culture, and history together in a way that gave me an understanding of the world as a global place and kept me from feeling academically confined (te agradezco Sra. Laporta).

If you are looking to get to know Allende and her books, don't start with this one, but do get around to reading it. Then learn more about Oscar Romero, Charles Harmon, the CIA, and Latin America in the 1970s and 80s. It will fill in some gaps and teach you another meaning of the word freedom.

Book Suggestions

Fear not, I have finished Alice's Adventures and will soon embark Through the Looking Glass.

In the meantime, there are so many other good books out there! I recently finished Subterranean Twin Cities. It is written by Greg Brick, a geologist/urban explorer. Chapter by chapter, he takes the reader through a series of man-made and naturally occurring caves. From his vivid descriptions of raw sewage and creepy crawlies, I found it an experience best read about versus taking a live trip. He gives you plenty of geographic locations, which lead to many moments of "I didn't realize there were SO many caves under Nicollet Island, where I happened to spend 4 years of my life."

And with perfect timing, the library's automated system sent me an email this morning with an alert for a new book in for me. Its called "The Immortal Cells of Henrietta Lacks." Many biology students and researchers over the last few decades have used "HeLa" cells, which are named after their donor, Henrietta Lacks. The book tells the tale of Henrietta, the unknowing donor of these cells, the shock of her family finding out about her cell line use years later (without any consent), and the medical advances that have helped society. Can't wait to dig in!

Practical Advice from Alice as she Adventures in Wonderland - Summarized by Amanda

We are embarking onto another new literary genre - literary nonsense. While many of the characters in this book seem immature or illogical, young Alice offers sage advice that people of ages should read and heed. Since most are more familiar with Alice than some of the other characters we are reading about, I thought it would be fun to delve into advice from Alice with some modern day applications.

• ...and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you sooner or later.
• This nugget of trugh would work well as an example in my day job - we are always harping on clear and accurate labels. Does anyone remember the Mr. Yuk stickers? Those were enough to keep me away from the bleach.

• She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it).
• We all have the little devil and little angel sitting on opposite shoulders. How many times have we listened to what each had to say (good advice or bad) and then take another path all together?

• Shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way - never to be an old woman - but then - always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn't like that.
• Alice is in such a hurry to grow up, yet she is constantly eating and drinking items to make herself grow and shrink, rarely finding the happy middle ground. Many children's play-times are filled with playacting roles of various adults - kings, queens, chefs, doctors and vets. And as adults we remember the care-free days of childhood. And I hate to tell you Alice, but you continue to have lessons to learn as adults.

• If it had grown up, it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes a rather handsome pig, I think. And she began thinking over other children who might do very well as pigs.
• Or all the politicians, CEOs of gas companies or fill in the blank people who might do very well as pigs.

• The King's argument was that anything that had a head could be beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense.
• Enough said



• Tut, tut, child! said the Duchess. Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.
• This is probably my favorite advice in the entire book. It urges us to look for some moral, no matter how tough the situation. I just heard about another book called "The Message" and is about finding the nugget of advice or learning in various sorts of communication. This may be great for a future blog post. And even the kids in South Park look for a moral at the end of most episodes.


• I don't see how he can ever finish, if he doesn't begin.
• Sometimes a situation seems so intimidating, it is tough to even know where to begin. Then the finish line become that much farther, and you don't make any progress. In these cases, it is surprising how much progress can be made if you put 5 or 10 minutes of effort into planning.


• That's the reason they're called lessons, because they lessen from day to day.
• If only. Instead they grow from to day to day.

• Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end, then stop.
• See the third to the last bullet point

Frank McCourt

"Trilogy of Human Tragedy Turns Thoughtful and Uplifting" would be the title most appropriate for a review on Frank McCourt's three volumes: Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, and Teacher Man. Each illuminates the dark tragedies that exist in life and poignantly show the humble humor in each sad existence.

I snubbed Angela's Ashes for a long time, put off by the foreboding title and slightly eerie reference to my own name. When I finally got around to reading it it made me want to fly to Limerick and adopt sad little boys with names like Eugine, Alphie, and Malachy, bring them home with me, give them names that are a little less ridiculous, and feed them waffles with bananas, Nutella, and whole milk. I might still do that. At any rate, Angela's Ashes is an "Oliver Twist with a mother and no happy ending" sort of a story. And, truthfully, it doesn't so much end as it stops and gives you time to decide whether or not you want to continue traveling with this despairing man and read 'Tis or if you'd rather leave well enough alone.

'Tis is McCourt's follow up to Angela's Ashes and I found myself irritated by the author's whiny, lonesome, self-loathing tone until it occurred to me that I was reading the heart and soul of a homesick, self-loathing, twenty-something alone in the world for the first time. I would have been miserable too. In fact, I've been there and it is miserable. Ok, his whining was excused. This volume just got a bit long. He couldn't figure out why so-and-so liked him enough to sleep with him and truthfully, neither could I.

Teacher Man, however, was a bit better. At this point he has narrowed his focus off of himself and onto his subject matter: teaching English in various high schools in New York City. It made the book easier to read and it led me to feel two things:
1. I'm so glad I'm not teaching any more, and even more thankful I didn't pursue it as a career. There are fantastic teachers in this world, I married one and have had the privilege of learning from many others. I would not be a good teacher. You're welcome schoolchildren of America.
2. I want to do exactly what I'm doing here: reading everything I can get my hands on and engaging with people in conversation about what I've read. "You'll love it" "You'll hate it" "I thought it was fantastic/pretentious/tragic/bullshit."

Beyond that, having researched Mr. McCourt a bit, I found that his brothers Alphie and Malachy also wrote memoirs, and Malachy even a history of Ireland. I've requested them all from the Augsburg Park Library. I'll let you know.

Wednesday's Wrap-Up

Cheers to another great book club session. It was one half book discussion, one half catch-up on life session and one half choose another book chat. So I'm not a math major... It was great to re-hash the content of 100 Years of Solitude for a better understanding of the plot and what the author was trying to convey.

As to our future book selections, here is a smattering of our ideas:

• A biography, but with each one of choosing a different book on the same subject. This could also apply to a significant event.
• Four Queens: The Provencal Sisters Who Ruled Europe
• Historical fiction
• Career advancement (Nice Girls Don't Get the Corner Office)

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

My mother is a fantastic woman. When she says: "Read this book, you'll love it" my response should be "You got it Ma" and then I should read the book. Because I'll love it.

However, when I was given the motherly direction to read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows my response was less enthusiastic: What kind of a stupid title is that? It sounded like a light beach read that would be poorly written and that I didn't have time for when my shelf of unread books included Isabel Allende (who I love) and Barbara Kingsolver (who my mother told me I'd love, and she was right), and Jane Austen (who I'm still just dating casually).

You read it here first folks: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is the loveliest book full of the most endearing characters and is anything but frivolous and poorly written. Mom said I'd love it. I should have trusted her track record of always being right.

The story is written in the form of letters between various people following World War II. The protagonist is fictional author Juliet Ashton, and readers follow her delightfully as she courts a friendship with a literary society of Guernsey islanders. We learn about the German occupation of the island during the war, and a story of one islander in particular emerges as the central tale. The book is delightfully clever & funny, the characters endearing, and the story both cheering and absolutely heartbreaking.

It is easy enough to read in a weekend at the Lake, but not so saccharine that you'll feel like you're wasting your time on junk. The authors expertly use the backdrop of post-war England and the story of the German occupation of the Channel Islands to tell their story, and, as Julie Ashton so shrewdly remarked:

That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive-all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.

So read this book, you'll love it.

100 Years of Solitude - Potential Discussion Questions

1. In what ways can One Hundred Years of Solitude be seen as a fable about the history of human civilization?

2. How does García Márquez use symbolism in One Hundred Years of Solitude? To what extent does the novel function as a network of symbols, allegories, and parables; to what extent can it stand on its own as a narrative?

3. One Hundred Years of Solitude is a vastly ambitious book, attempting to bridge many dualisms and appeal to many audiences: it is both general and particular, both realistic and magical. Is the book successful in its attempts to encompass such a vast scope of experiences and voices? What are the narrative shortcomings of One Hundred Years of Solitude?

4. With which character in One Hundred Years of Solitude do you most identify? Why? Is there any character in the novel who is wholly admirable, anyone who is wholly evil?

5. What do you think is the novel’s understanding of human nature? Is it a fundamentally optimistic novel? To what extent does García Márquez believe that love is possible?

6. To what extent is the novel’s title, One Hundred Years of Solitude, an important commentary on the narrative in the book? What connections does the book make between knowledge and solitude? Is solitude an unavoidable condition of human nature?

7. To what extent do you think that One Hundred Years of Solitude is a novel particularly concerned with Latin American culture and politics? To what extent is it a novel designed to appeal broadly to all readers?


SparkNotes Editors. “SparkNote on One Hundred Years of Solitude.” SparkNotes.com. SparkNotes LLC. 2002. Web. 29 Jun. 2010.

100 Years of Solitude

This book takes an incredible amount of attention. I just got done reading 2 chapters, and my mind is still swarming, and it took my about 5 minutes to figure out how to add my own post! Seriously though, it is strange how much detail Garcia will take to explain one event, and then in another, if you blank out for a sentence or two, you miss something entirely. Cheers to the Spark Notes and Wikipedia Amanda mentioned!! I have been reading Spark Notes after every 2 chapters and it makes the book much more enjoyable.

I like Angela's comment about the genre of magical realism is like a dream. Indeed, just like a dream, if you can just "go with it," it's all perfectly logical and you just keep enjoying the story. You certainly can analyze it for deeper meanings, or you can just enjoy it for what it's worth. But I bet this book would be really cool if I knew anything about Latin American history. Like a good American, I don't :(

I think the most interesting character in Ursula. Who does she represent? God? The city of Mocando itself? I like to think of her as a symbol of how we should be. She likes things neat and orderly. She likes to keep the family together and she's all-inclusive. She honors tradition. She tries to keep everyone in line, and once you go against her position, you're screwed.

I have 110 pages left to get done in a week and a half. That's good though - the more I read in a short period of time, the more I can keep together.

100 Years of Solitude - Amanda's initial thoughts

As Angela mentioned, this book is not for the faint of heart. I'm only half way through at this point - and it is a challenge. It feels like being in high school English where a new book is assigned, and you don't know what you're in for, except a new genre. The difference this time is resources on the internet (yay Wikipedia and Spark Notes) to supplement the reading. It's not cheating, in fact, it has helped me along greatly to consider the author's point of view and to keep track of the Jose's, Arcadio's and Aureliano's.

One of the most interesting environments to me is the laboratory. Throughout the first half of the book, various experiements take place in the lab with the men in the family and Melquiades. After recently reading a biography of the scientifically prolific Curie family, I saw similarities in the pure research taking place. In both cases, they were taking the raw materials and carrying out experiments where the results would be unknown. This is much different than what I see at work now where a result is usually in mind and nothing too unexpected occurs. Nowadays, we don't see much liquid mercury being used, especially with no ventilation. Egads, they needed an industrial hygienist.

Now its on to the second half of the book - let's see what the younger generations bring to the story.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez is not for the faint of heart, nor for the short in imagination. Magical realism is a genre that requires the reader's full participation. One must be able to believe in flying carpets, bones in walls that go cloc-cloc, and assumptions into heaven of one so pure she shaved her head just to be rid of the nuisance. These outlandish ideas exist not as props of science fiction or fantasy, but as something that perhaps at one time existed, and therefore, aren't out of our realm of belief. I describe magical realism to people as the memory of a dream, you just know that it happened, even if it isn't physically possible.

One Hundred Years of Solitude is the tome of a family, the Buendías. They have a tendancy to repeat the names Aureliano, José, and Arcadio so if you undertake the challenge be sure your book has a family tree in the front and flag it. You'll be referring back to it a lot. And that's ok. Just because you lose track of a character here and there does not mean you aren't "getting it." Give yourself some credit. The first read only requires that you savor the story.

The opening sentence alone gives the reader an idea of the type of book they're in for: "Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice." Márquez goes on to describe that distant afternoon, all the while you're wondering: ice? Give me a break! Go back to the firing squad! After such an expertly crafted opening line, one would be awfully beige to not want to know how this all works out. The book is full of rambling sentences like this; you have trouble tracing their origin but they draw you in. Stories about the Buendías bloom like begonias on each page and while it does become a bit troublesome linking them, soldier on. As I said before, the book is neither for the faint of heart, nor the uncommitted, but worth it every time.

By the end of the story (saga?), one should have an idea of Márquez's intent: addressing the cyclical nature with which our existence unfolds. Societies are doomed to repeated mistakes, wars, and destruction. He further declares this to be predestined. Meh. I don't buy into fate or destiny so I reject this analysis. Instead, I prefer to see the theme as the intertwining relationship of the past and future with the present.

A beach read this is not, though my copy has seen its fair share of sunscreen and sand. I highly recommend this book to those who can let go of caffeine and Facebook long enough to allow themselves to be told the tallest of tall tales.