Category: non fiction

The Sullivanians: Sex, Psychotherapy, and the Wild Life of an American Commune by Alexander Stille (Non fiction)

A comprehensive and detailed account of The Sullivan Institute — a (somewhat secret) urban commune in New York City that ran a 35 year “experiment” to reengineer family, sex, and social life.  Starting in the 50s as a combination of psychotherapy and radical politics, it evolved into an oppressive cult before finally crumbling in the early 90s (largely as a result of various salacious court cases).

Stille compiled the narrative from extensive interviews, written member accounts, and court case documentation.  He proceeds linearly through time covering various motivations and experiences as well as the long dissolution into a bit of a nightmare and the “waking up” of those who went mainstream once it all fell apart.

Begun in the 50s by avowed Marxists, the goal of the Institute was partially to bring the “human” into Marx.  The founders came to see: “the nuclear family as the basic unit of capitalist production, the means by which the system perpetuated itself to the detriment of individual growth.  Parents tamed and squelched their children’s most vital needs in order to turn them into obedient and productive citizens.”  They felt that growth could only occur only through interaction with others.  Unusually for therapy at the time, therapists encouraged complete patient dependence — telling patients what to do in every aspect of their life.  Members were forced to break all bonds with those outside the group, they were not allowed to form pair bonds, and were not allowed to raise their children, being told that they would be “poison” to those children.

What fascinated me was how the group fit into the times — starting with Marxist theories and communal living and progressing through the 70s where alternative therapies— EST, TM, rebirthing, etc. — were thriving.  And the way initial egalitarianism devolved into hierarchical conformity with a controlling personality at the top.  The pattern matches those of cults, certain religious orders (ultra-orthodox Jews, strict evangelical Christians, …), and true communist countries as a whole: impose a demanding lifestyle on members, maintain a boundary between the group and the outside, and ostracize those who want to leave.  And the people in this group were intelligent and well-educated.  In its heyday, the group boasted famous members such as Jackson Pollack, Lucinda Childs, Richard Price, members of the musical group Sha Na Na, etc.

Completely fascinating.

Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on June 20th, 2023

Cinema Speculation by Quentin Tarantino (Non-fiction — Audio book)

The title says it all — this book is Tarantino’s very personal account of his love of movies and the industry, launching from accompanying his single mother and her friends to “grown up” movies when he was eight. His analysis of practically every movie he saw includes a full grasp of the trends of the times and how the movies exploited, responded to, and sometimes created those trends. He possesses an encyclopedic knowledge about the industry and the book serves as an intellectual history of the age through the medium of film. He paid particular attention to audiences and how they interacted with the film. Listening to his mom’s commentary on the way home and watching some films in crowded theaters full of viewers who were happy to provide their own loud and colorful commentary.

It’s no surprise that Tarantino got more out of every movie he watched than I ever could. He described them so well and with such passion that I started making lists of movies I wanted to see (or see again) though I know I won’t enjoy them as much as he did or be able to understand them in the context of cinematic history as he did. I’m not a cinephile but that is a big part of what I liked about this book — it allowed me to see movies through the eyes of someone who is a dedicated, articulate, and passionate cineast (new word for me!) An extra plus is that Tarantino and I are roughly the same age so I recognize each decade (and the actors, films, and experiences) as his commentary proceeds through the years.

I listened to this on audio book and Tarantino read the first and last chapters himself. Unfortunately, someone else read all of the other chapters — a real disappointment. Nothing wrong with the other reader but he doesn’t have Tarantino’s rapid fire, wise guy kind of voice or delivery. The other reader articulates his words too much and can’t swear well — too stiff! But listening to the first and last chapters made the book far more compelling to me and I was able to listen to the others with Tarantino’s real voice in mind. It gave that personal edge to the story. Apparently there are pictures in the actual book, however, which I obviously missed by listening to the audio.

Needless to say I am now heading off to rewatch my favorite Tarantino movies (which, given that I’ve caught a miserable head cold, seems like a brilliant plan for the day!)

The Doctors Blackwell by Janice P. Nimura (History)

This is the story about Elizabeth and Emily Blackwell — pioneers in the efforts to bring women into medicine — and it was not what I expected (it was so much better!) The well-researched book (which includes many direct excerpts from journals and letters) is a thorough biography of both women from their immigrant childhood in Cincinnati through to the fight to be able to attend medical school (Elizabeth was the first woman in American to receive an MD in 1849) and their continuing efforts to open the field to women.

What I liked about the book is that it was no Hallmark Special. These women were motivated by female accomplishment, not by the more “womanly” desires to help and comfort. In fact, neither one had much in the way of empathy — Elizabeth was disgusted by human bodies and managed to take meticulous notes on patient’s dying agonies while Emily was attracted by the science, but not the humans. Elizabeth was also none too happy with the women’s movement, or with women in general, finding most of them “petty, trifling, priest-ridden, gossiping, stupid, and inane.” You can kind of see her point at times. As an interesting side note, none of the five Blackwell sisters ever married, and two of their brothers married suffragettes.

The other utterly fascinating thing about the book was the detail on medical practice, hygiene, and general living conditions of the time. The details of how medical schools operated, what kind of medicine was practiced (leeches, patent medicines, and an overuse of mercury based calomel), and the (lack of) hygiene in both medical and living situations was a window into another world — and a world not well represented by historical fiction which always seems to bring a modern sensibility to a few stray details from the past. I’m not a big non-fiction reader, finding most offerings full of tangents, muddied presentation and overly interpreted facts with specific agendas in mind, but this book was well-structured, full of relevant detail, and presented the main characters as real human beings who don’t necessarily match our ideals of individuals now or in the past.

A new (to me) word: valetudinarian — a person who is unduly anxious about their health. Useful!

Quotes:
“The limited goal of woman suffrage — winning the vote for women who were still enslaved by their own ignorance — was, she believed, woefully premature. What good was a vote if one didn’t know how to think independently?”

“The problem was not the tyranny of men, she wrote, but the disappointing weakness of women. ‘Women are feeble, narrow, frivolous at present, ignorant of their own capacities, and undeveloped in thought and feeling,’ she lectured her well-wisher. ‘The exclusion and constraint woman suffers, is not the result of purposed injury or premeditated insult. It has arisen naturally, without violence, simply because woman has desired nothing more.’”

“It was more important to prove the capacities of women and show them the way forward into the light, out of the shadow of their menfolk. For women, just as for the enslaved, the first step must be freedom. ‘The study and practice of medicine is in my thought but one means to a great end,’ Elizabeth wrote. Caring for suffering individuals had never been the engine that drove her. In becoming a doctor, she meant to heal humanity.”

“ ‘As I learnt to realize slavery & hate it, deeply eternally, while living amongst slaves — so I am learning to curse from the bottom of my soul this heathenish society of the nineteenth century, surrounded here by its miserable victims,’ she wrote. The conundrum of woman’s lot had never seemed clearer: women could not rise until the attitudes of their society shifted, but social mores would never change without women’s leadership, ‘so there seems to me, no opening in the circle.’ Even among the educated women of her acquaintance, few seemed formed for noble causes.”

Conversations with People who Hate Me by Dylan Marron (Non-fiction)

This is an extremely well-written, thoughtful, and reflective book that tackles the Hate pervading the internet in the form of nasty ad hominem attacks on anyone who has had the guts to post an opinion. Dylan collected many such disturbing posts in his Hate Folder, and then proceeded to create podcasts where he talked to (some of) these people in an attempt to find common ground for conversation.

He takes us through the process, starting from his own gleeful participation in the internet’s “holy trinity of cynicism, apathy, and dismissal” as he plays the shame game himself, through to his own hurt and betrayal as his posts / podcasts incurred various incarnations of “die you #)()(#@,” attacks, and finally to actual recorded conversations with those of his detractors that were willing to engage (and were clearly not dangerous or severely unbalanced).

He promotes empathy and conversation as an antidote to Shame — one of the big weapons in the snarky attacks on … everything. Lucid writing, good reflection on his own role, no rants, clear thinking, and a willingness to shut up and listen. For me his messages were not necessarily new but were refreshing and his experiences were enlightening (I spend a lot of time on the internet but very little engaging with anonymous strangers — a few months of the vitriol on NextDoor during the early days of Covid cured me of that habit). My only disappointment was that while he did a great job remaining open and listening to those who had called him names and (obviously) held very different views, there was never a point at which I thought he was listening to their actual views with an open mind. He lowered the anger thermostat and was able to see these strangers as human — and get them to see him that way too — but he remained firmly entrenched in his own view of the world as ever. To me, real conversation MUST include people being open to the idea that the other person may have good, rational reasons for having the opinion that they do and learning from that.

Still, this was an easy and engaging read and did get me thinking. I would love to see more conversation, discussion, empathy, and open mindedness on the internet. When did it become cool to be jaded, nasty, and cynical? When did hope and optimism become naive and stupid? Maybe we’ll learn that in book two. 🙂

Some good quotes:
“In the politically fractured climate of 2016, I saw the term used mostly by conservatives against people like me, which is to say politically correct internet users who vocally advocated for social justice. It was a way to mock those of us who talked about things like feelings and respect and safe spaces and pronoun and trigger warnings.”

“And what I had perceived as ‘hate’ was often discontent expressed hyperbolically.”

“Just as I have found that conversation is the antidote to both the game of the internet and the sport of debate, I also see it as the most potent antidote to shame.”

“Without the ability to keep up with the latest shame army, I am more able to take stock of what I actually think rather than defaulting to the opinion factory of social media.’

“Was seeing my conservative guests as human some sort of ideological treason?”

“In trading nuance for easy coins, complexity for simplicity, was I the social justice advocate I thought I was, or was I simply playing one online?”

“..I was a brown, Mohawked, pearl-earring-wearing gay guy whose tank top revealed an upper body that clearly screamed, ‘Chosen last for dodgeball!’”

“Was it because apathy, snark, and sarcasm were more in-keeping with the onslaught of bad news that dominated our news cycle? Did public expressions of joy undercut the severity of the unfolding sociopolitical mess? Whatever the reason, I had to figure out how to maintain my success on a platform that would shun me for daring to express my true self.”

Thank you to Atria Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on March 29th, 2022.

Her Honor by LaDoris Hazzard Cordell (audio book)

Fantastic book and great on audio (read by author)!

Cordell was the first female African American judge in Northern California, but frankly, that has nothing to do with why this was a good book. Cordell takes us through her time on the bench — each chapter covering a segment of her career, including in-depth case analysis with relevant case law and background, as well as insight into how she made her decisions. She often illustrated the difference in law and policies across states which I found both fascinating and surprising. The book covers her time in criminal, marriage and family, and juvenile courts as well as her experiences with plea bargaining, hot button issues such as DUIs, the three strikes law, judicial misconduct, and the whole process of appointing or electing judges (beyond fascinating and completely new information to me).

The concluding chapter lists a set of ten “broken” aspects of our judicial system and her recommendations for fixes. By then we are familiar with those opinions as they had come up in situ during the varied experiences, so it was easy to follow. I can’t stress enough how clearly she described the mandatory vs discretionary parts of a judge’s position. One very interesting (to me) story was about the recall of Judge Persky, who had given a too-short sentence (as perceived by the public) to the Stanford swimmer convicted of sexual assault on an unconscious girl. Despite the fact that the judge had only followed the sentencing guidelines and had done absolutely nothing wrong (no accusation of malfeasance), he was booted off the bench in an effort led by two Stanford law professors (who really should have known better). CA changed the law that allowed judge recall to require some kind of malfeasance as a result of that case. Personally, my opinion of Stanford law professors took a nosedive. I hate anything that puts politics and / or popular sentiment above the law.

This book was about what Judge Cordell thought and did and had little or no discussion of how being black impacted her career; however, she was very explicit about the races of people involved in certain cases (if relevant) and provided a lot of information about race and bias in the courtroom, including studies and statistics of the variability of convictions, sentencing, and plea bargains based on race. She did a superb job of describing principles, problems, solutions, and what stands in the way without resorting to inane, politically correct memes with nothing of substance behind them.

I loved it.

Thank you to Macmillan audio and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 26th, 2021 — Today!

A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson (Creative non-fiction)

Writing: 4/5 Coverage: ?? My enjoyment: 2/5

Bryson’s second book. This is the story of his hike on the Appalachian Trail.

This was my first and very probably last Bryson book. I love humor and had heard his books were hysterically funny. However, I found his humor to be quite mean spirited. Whether he was gratuitously making fun of well-known individuals (“the inestimably priggish and tiresome Thoreau” or Daniel Boone who “wrestled bears and tried to date their sisters”) or lambasting entire populations (every human in the South was portrayed as a variation of absurdly stupid and / or outlandishly obnoxious) — he rarely had a nice thing to say about anybody.

His writing is top-notch and I definitely laughed out loud at several of his lines, but after a while you get tired of listening to someone rant about how stupid, incompetent, and ridiculous everyone else is. Each chapter has some bit of history or doom like predictions about the climate, species deaths, or endlessly burning coal fires, and much of it was actually interesting. However, I got the feeling that his “research” consisted of browsing through some pamphlets and newspaper headlines (in 1996 the Internet was weak and puny) because he never delved into a subject, just dropped a few facts (all depressing) without ever going into the complexities of what is behind each and every problem.

He was paid to write this book and I don’t think his heart was in it. Spoiler alert, he doesn’t even come close to finishing the trail!

Facing the Mountain by Daniel James Brown (Non-Fiction History)

The acclaimed author of The Boys in the Boat (which I loved) tackles Japanese Americans in WWII — both those interned in camps following FDRs Executive Order 9066 and those who served in the military’s 442nd Regimental Combat Team — the single Japanese American unit, which also happened the most highly decorated.

While dealing with — let’s face it — some deeply depressing and disturbing topics — Brown makes it clear from the start that this is the story of Victors, not Victims. And that is how the story reads. This is the story of how a diverse group of people (not everyone in a single ethnic group is the same, even as they are treated as the same!) faced adversity and made the best of it. Through extensive research and first person interviews, Brown follows three primary characters who each ended up in the 442nd: Kats Miho from Hawaii, Rudy Tokiwa from Salinas (within California’s Exclusion Zone) and Fred Shiosaki from Hillyard, WA (outside Washington’s Exclusion Zone). An additional thread follows Gordon Hirabayashi as he makes his way through the courts protesting the unconstitutionality of interning American citizens based on their ethnicity. The character set expands to include their families, friends, and comrades-at-arms while the story extends from Pearl Harbor to incarceration to military draft to battle to returns home to legislation (finally) apologizing to the community and paying (some) restitution to survivors.

It is a massive undertaking but Brown’s style makes it appear effortless (like Fred Astaire’s dancing). He gets to the essence of every thought and action. Through personal interviews and letters, we gain access to the actual (not fictionalized) thoughts, discussions, and noticed details of those involved. Often these brought tears to my eyes. Reading first-person accounts is so very different than what I or a novelist imagines in any situation. Facts and figures, as well as historical context, are inserted at just the right moments.

I found the book fascinating from start to finish. While I was aware of the broad strokes of the treatment of Japanese Americans during the war, I was not aware of the many, many, tiny strokes that comprised it. I give this book a strong five star rating and highly recommend but if I were to point out a couple of negatives (which it appears I’m about to do) it would be that he does sometimes descend into hyperbole — for example when describing a situation, such as the conditions initial Japanese immigrants found in the late 1800s, from his own perspective rather an individual’s recollection and report. He also inserts anecdotes — all but one negative — about the treatment of Japanese Americans by neighbors without including any positive anecdotes (there must be some) or giving any kind of statistics on how broad those negative behaviors actually were.

Thank you to Penguin Group Viking and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 11th, 2021.

The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America by Richard Rothstein (Non-fiction)

This is a thought-provoking, though somewhat rambling, overview of the impact of systemic racism in U.S. housing policy on African Americans. To be clear (because systemic racism has become an almost meaningless phrase thrown at everything), Rothstein documents the laws and policies — federal, state, and local — that explicitly made it illegal to sell real-estate to non-whites, give mortgages to non-whites, or offer certain kinds of tax-breaks to non-whites. These laws and policies were in action just as the suburban lifestyle took center stage with new housing developments supported by transportation networks optimized for suburb to city commutes. Subsequent chapters followed the resulting situations as housing prices outstripped wage gains and tax policies swerved to benefit home owners over city renters, etc.

While Rothstein’s extended research is accurate (and horrifying) it is anecdotal and not comprehensive. In other words, we hear about all of the racist laws, the long court battles trying to change them thus upholding the 14th amendment, and the many workarounds people used to avoid repercussions for ignoring court decisions — but we don’t really get to understand how prevalent this behavior was. I’m guessing it was quite prevalent, but I can’t actually tell from reading this book.

I’m also not thrilled by his conclusions — he constantly conflates race and class and often leaps straight from terrible situations to unsupported causal connections. For example, in one part he goes from housing unfairness to gangs in four sentences without considering any other possible explanations. Similarly, in a discussion of income mobility, the data showed African Americans had less income mobility than whites — but not as much less as one might expect under the circumstances. This he explained with a wave of hands suggesting that African Americans had worked twice as hard and / or that affirmative action was “working.” Lastly, despite the title, this book focussed only on the aspect of law that relates to housing and not to the many other aspects of law that could be shown to support racist policies.

Still — incredible eye-opening descriptions of what was done by the government to treat African Americans unfairly and the lengthy and complicated process required to make changes. If you can find someone to give a good summary, that might be preferable to actually reading the book which is a bit of a slog.

The Code Breaker: Jennifer Doudna, Gene Editing, and the Future of the Human Race by Walter Isaacson (Non-fiction)

A fascinating and timely story about the life sciences revolution (specifically gene editing) and the Covid bomb that ignited a community already poised at the brink of discovery — all told through the biographical lens of recent Nobel winner Jennifer Doudna.

Isaacson is a skilled biographer and synthesizer. He has an unsurpassed ability to explain very complex concepts in accessible terms. I’ve read four of his books and have been impressed by his ability to explain well things I already know (Steve Jobs and computers) and things in which I have little background and zero aptitude (Leonardo Da Vinci and 15th century art). His descriptions of CRISPR (DNA sequences that enable the gene editing at the heart of the book) and the myriad ways it was discovered, applied, and deployed do not disappoint. What I liked best? You actually feel the zing of scientific discovery as he describes the evolution of gene editing tools and techniques and the researchers who made it happen.

Getting to know the researchers was almost as interesting as learning the science — to the point where Jennifer Doudna — while thoroughly admirable — did not have a personality that eclipsed the other players, making it feel less like a biography and more like a community portrait. Every one of the key contributors was profiled in a succinct but insightful way: James Watson of DNA discovery fame (more on him later); Harvard Medical School geneticist George Church (who felt trapped in the present when he should be in the future); Doudna’s co-Nobelist and co-discoverer of the CRISPR/Cas9 “genetic scissors” the peripatetic Emmanuelle Charpentier who likes to keep herself on edge and not get too comfy; Feng Zhang — credited (but bitterly contested) with applying CRISPR to the human genome; and the many, many additional researchers pursuing careers in the field.

In addition to the science and the scientists, Isaacson spends a fair amount of time on the aspects of commercialization including the competition between academics resulting in sometimes bitter patent battles on rights regarding various facets of the technology and its applications. In contrast, he also gives plenty of air play to the wealth of technologies born of necessity during the COVID-19 pandemic covering how the community was poised to act and the incredible bureaucracy and what strings had to be pulled to get through it (and who had the clout to pull those strings). Also included is a pretty comprehensive description of the requirements and applied innovations to virus detection, vaccination, and treatment. I actually feel much calmer about covid having read the book.

Lastly, Isaacson devoted a lot of time and discussion to the question of ethics — a topic I always enjoy. Ethical questions such as safety and unintended consequences, the tradeoff between individual needs and the needs of society, the potential widening of the privilege gap, and the potential impact on human diversity if we allow people free choice on gene selection for offspring. Isaacson inserted a lot of his own ideas into this section and I can’t say I agreed with everything he said, though he did fairly include multiple viewpoints. He appeared to conflate (as people often do) genius with debilitating problems — pointing to Van Gogh (mental illness) and Miles Davis (sickle cell anemia) as examples where a change to their genetic structure might alleviate their suffering but hamper their creative output — a loss to society as a whole. He (again, as most people do) also firmly yoked diversity to physical characteristics instead of a wide range of personality, opinion, intelligences etc. There appears to a strong fear that if left to their own devices, everyone would choose to have blonde haired, blue eyed children. Also — nobody ever seems to bring up the ethical question of parents making decisions for their as-yet-unborn children! I have more strong opinions on this chapter but I encourage you to read it yourself!

I have a few other issues with the book — Isaacson seems to insert himself into the action more often than I thought necessary and spent a little longer than I liked on a somewhat sensationalized version of the patent wars. He also loudly supported our new “cancel culture” with his full chapter treatise on James Watson’s fall from grace due to unpopular racial remarks. I’m a big believer in a free electorate who must be trusted to think for themselves and not in favor of shutting down people who have beliefs different from my own (no matter how distasteful). Controlling people’s freedom of expression is really a bad move for a free society, regardless of how much we each wish we could get the other side to shut up!

Still — small annoyances aside — this is a fully engaging book about a fascinating topic told in an accessible manner and covering one of the key turning points of human civilization — so go buy it today and read it!

Extra Life: A Short History of Living Longer by Steven Johnson (Non-fiction)

Writing: 4/5 Topic Coverage: 5/5

A compendium of the major advances in life expectancy throughout human history. With an engaging, story-mixed-with-research style, Johnson devotes a chapter to each of the major contributions: Vaccines; Data and Epidemiology; Pasteurization and Chlorination; Regulations and Testing; Antibiotics; Safety Technology and Regulations; and Anti-Famine Interventions. While some of the stories were familiar to me, many of them were brand new. Even those I was familiar with were actually new to me: I hadn’t been aware of quite how devastating the problems were or all the tangled issues that snaked their way through solution adoption on a widespread scale.

The introduction states that the book is “a study in how meaningful change happens in society.” The ongoing theme is that it is the network of people and not just the genius that makes these massive changes possible — the journalists, activists, reformers, and amplifiers. He hammers this point frequently, accusing society of “… condensing a complex network of agents into a single heroic scientist.” And it is interesting in every case — how long it took and how hard people worked to get a solution to a horrific problem actually adopted.

The last chapter focuses on the future — AI drug design; a cure for malaria; syndromic surveillance; animal surveillance to stop virus jumping; and immunotherapies for cancers. There is some discussion of the negative impact on the planet of all these extra bodies but not much. I would have liked at least a little discussion on the need for additional birth control giving the teeming state of the world’s population.

The book makes for easy and engrossing reading. The numbers involved are astonishing, and the stories from discovery to scale to distribution eye opening. More intriguing than most fiction!

Thank you to Riverhead Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 11th, 2021.