Lawrence Today magazine, Spring 2005
By Gordon Brown
“The Professors’ Picks” is a not-quite-annual feature
of Lawrence Today, first compiled in 2001, which has proved popular
with our readers and,
indeed, with the faculty members who do the picking. With thanks to them,
we offer this year’s edition.
Minoo Adenwalla
Professor emeritus of government
Fareed Zakaria, The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and
Abroad (2003, W.W. Norton & Company). Fareed Zakaria is a major
intellectual voice in the field of U.S. foreign policy. Son of India notable
Rafiq Zakaria,
undergraduate
of Yale with a Ph.D. in political science from Harvard, one-time editor
of the prestigious Foreign Affairs magazine, current editor of Newsweek
International, political analyst for ABC News, he has been mooted
as a possible Secretary of State in a U.S. cabinet.
The book’s central
thesis holds that successful democracy requires what Zakaria calls “constitutional
liberalism,” which “seeks
to protect individual autonomy and dignity against coercion, whatever the
source — state,
church, or society.” This book stands in a long and distinguished
tradition of political thought, a Burkean tradition that values individual
liberty as
much, or even more, than mass electoral enfranchisement.
Marcia Bjørnerud
Professor of geology
Like many people across the U.S., I’ve spent much of the past year
contemplating ethical matters — the origins of ethical systems; the
differences between ethics and religion; how to act ethically in a world
where Orwellian
language,
seductive technologies, and boggling complexity make moral distinctions
difficult to see clearly. What are my ethical obligations as a parent,
teacher, scientist,
voter, and Earthling? The books I am recommending all deal in some way
with these questions.
The fantasy trilogy by Phillip Pullman called His Dark Materials — including
The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass ( box set published
by Laurel Leaf) — is an opportunity for adults and children to explore
together deep ethical issues through the cultures and customs of imagined
worlds. I had read these books aloud to my children a year or two ago and
was reminded
of their power and subtlety this past fall when we saw the stories brought
to the stage at the National Theatre in London (where I was happily teaching
at the Lawrence London Centre). Much darker than the Harry Potter series
and more interesting than the unremitting bleakness of the Lemony Snickett
books,
the Pullman trilogy dares to raise questions about the legitimacy of both
organized religion and of scientific authority. It is simultaneously iconoclastic
and
deeply moral. The central character, a strong, feisty, radiant girl named
Lyra, appealed even to my three boisterous boys, and through her eyes,
they eagerly
explored new and difficult terrain.
The raw origin of ethics in an earthly landscape is the focus of Independent
People by the great Icelandic writer Halldor Laxness (winner of the Nobel
Prize in literature in 1955). The book, first published in 1946 and recently
reissued
in paperback by Vintage, centers on Bjartur, a stalwart, curmudgeonly
farmer who trusts the sagas more than his neighbors. I bought a copy
of the book
in Reykjavik while on a geologic trip to Iceland this October and was
assured by the clerk that it was one of the best books ever written (apart
from
the sagas!). Initially skeptical, I quickly warmed to this book about
life in
a
cold place, because it shows how vulnerable we humans (even those of
us with central heating and fully stocked larders) are to succumbing
to the
elements,
if not bodily then spiritually.
Finally, I will immodestly mention that I have recently finished writing
a book of my own, Reading the Rocks: The Autobiography of the Earth, to be published
in April 2005 by Basic Books. The book, meant for a general audience,
is about how we can read the story of the Earth in its own words — written,
literally, in stone. In a time of ubiquitous marketing and image making,
we may find comfort
in the existence of this ruthlessly neutral Earth text. Our interpretation
of it may be flawed or biased, but we can be sure that the writer has no
agenda. If the narrative is amoral, apolitical, and indifferent, it is
also ecumenical,
egalitarian, and absolute. The story is larger than all of us, shaped by
rules that antedate and supercede every economic, legal, and religious
doctrine humans
have ever created. The rock record was not written as a collection of fables
for our moral edification, but we would be foolish not to heed its wisdom.
I am hopeful that my book will inspire more people to learn to read rocks.
John
Brandenberger
Alice G. Chapman Professor of Physics
I recently enjoyed William Kotzwinkle’s The Bear Went Over the
Mountain (Owl Books), a novel first published in 1996. This book reveals the story
of a bear named Hal Jam, who snitches a manuscript, steals a suit, and goes
to
New York to promote and publish his first novel. The book becomes an instant
hit, a bestseller, and Hal becomes a media celebrity. Hal finds himself
increasingly attracted to human culture, food, and companionship. Meanwhile
the true author
of the manuscript, a starving ex-professor in Maine, finds himself drawn
to the woods and to a cave where he sleeps during the cold months on a bed
of
evergreen boughs.
I found this entertaining book to be enlightening because it helps me
better appreciate the notions of border crossings, exchanges of identity,
literary
transgressions, transformative hermeneutics, and poststructuralism.
Robert
Debbaut
Visiting assistant professor of music and director of orchestral studies
Jim Marrs, Rule by Secrecy (2000, Harper-Collins). For many years I’ve
been a student of history. Once I believed that I had digested most of the “facts,” I
turned my attention to alternate views of history. Marrs’ book does not
disappoint in that regard. For conspiracy buffs everywhere, he presents some
of the “hidden history” of our planet and the power brokers who
have influenced that history via a network of secret societies, some as old
as the pyramids. If you've ever wondered about the origins of the Council on
Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, the World Trade Organization
and Globalism, the Knights Templar, Freemasons, and the “New World Order” and
possess an open mind on these subjects, this is a book for you. I found
it fascinating.
Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln, The Messianic Legacy (1986, Dell Books). If you read Dan Brown’s The
Da Vinci Code and thought “what
a creative mind to come up with all that ‘fiction’ about Jesus,
Mary Magdalene, and some ancient dynasty of French kings called Merovingian,” you
need to read Holy Blood, Holy Grail by these same authors. More than actually
a sequel to HBHG, The Messianic Legacy contains extra material left over from
the original research, as well as some different directions regarding world
religion and politics. As in Marrs’ Rule by Secrecy, there are many startling
revelations that challenge some standard and commonly held beliefs.
Elizabeth
De Stasio, ’83
Associate professor of biology and the Raymond H. Herzog Professor of
Science
Most of my reading these days is in the area of children’s literature,
as it seems best to read along when a child’s reading level outstrips
the emotional ability to handle content of more advanced literature. So,
here are some recommendations for the fourth-grade through middle-school
set; books
that parents will also enjoy and should even find thought provoking.
Bat 6 by Virginia Euwer Wolff was published in 1998 (Scholastic Signature),
but the story is set in 1949. At the surface, it is a terrific story
of the girls from two sixth-grade softball teams, told from the point
of view
of
the girls from each team, reminiscent of Faulkner’s work. The real story,
however, is one of prejudice and forgiveness. Additional mature content that
stimulates discussion includes Japanese internment during WWII and events at
Pearl Harbor, as well as issues of class and personal integrity. The characters
are well developed and the story lines are engaging — a great read-aloud
story.
A Single Shard (2003, Yearling), by Linda Sue Park is Newbery Medal winner.
Set in 12th-century Korea, this story transports the reader easily to
a very different culture and leads one to care deeply about the characters.
Tree-ear
is an orphan, living with Crane-man under a bridge. He loves to watch
the
potter, Min, and eventually comes to work for him. Tree-ear’s talents
and perseverance are highlighted in this wonderfully rich story.
The House of the Scorpion (2002, Atheneum/Richard Jackson Books), by
Nancy Farmer is a multiple award winner. This is a disturbing science
fiction
text that I was very glad to be reading along with my son! Set in an
imagined opium plantation between the U.S. and Mexico, a boy named Matt
learns he
is a clone
of the 140-year old drug lord. In this story of good vs. evil in which
the
evildoers are not always immediately identified, Matt must figure out
his identity and purpose in life. Multiple layers of meaning and riveting
action
make this
a good read for mature kids and adults. Be prepared for discussions of
the ethics of cloning, of greed and evil, of communist-style economies,
of the
concept of the soul.
For teens and adults:
Three generations of our family have enjoyed “Tales of the Otori” by
Lian Hearn. The first book of this trilogy, Across the Nightingale
Floor (2003, Riverhead Books) introduces the reader to a complex social system
set in an
imaginary rendition of feudal Japan. The characters are interesting and
varied, the settings easily imagined due to ample detail, and the plot full
of intrigue
and excitement with a bit of magical talent thrown in for good measure.
Joanne Harris (of Chocolat fame) has set another novel, Five
Quarters of the Orange (2002, Perennial) in post-war France. The novel is again
filled
with
emotionally damaged characters, as well as lushly described foods. The
main character, Framboise, returns to a the small French village in which
she
had been a child and she tries to piece together her mother’s role
in a tragedy that occurred during the German occupation of the village.
The story is told
from the point of view of Framboise in both time periods with richly detailed
descriptions of each.
Currently on my desk is John Barry’s The Great Influenza (2004, Viking
Books) — a thick tome describing much more than the influenza pandemic
of 1918. Barry places his well-researched descriptions of the effects of
the influenza epidemic in the context of the movement of the American medical
community
to a science-based approach. He is meticulous in his descriptions of the
scientists and medical practitioners and in documenting the success of
science done well.
A very well-written book for those who enjoy reading about science or medicine.
Salt: A World History (2003, Penguin Books), by Mark Kurlansky was less
wonderful than Cod (which I recommended here in 2002), but still worth
reading. This
time, Kurlansky outlines the intersection of the use of salt as currency
and as food, and geopolitical history. Many fun facts to know and tell….
Bertrand
Goldgar
Professor of English and the John N. Bergstrom Professor of Humanities
I have a slew of good novels to recommend. First, two older ones by William
Trevor, one of the finest writers still alive: Other People's Worlds (1994, International Thomson Publishing) and Miss
Gomez and the Brethren (1997,
Penguin Books), the latter a bizarre story of a Jamaican woman with a
religious obsession
living in a sleazy London neighborhood.
Next, A Suitable Boy (1994, Perennial), by Vikram Seth, an extremely
long but constantly readable novel involving four families in India in
the 1950s,
which
I recommend following up with Seth’s later and shorter novel, An
Equal Music (2000, Vintage), a love story which one British paper called the finest
novel about music ever written in English. If you haven’t read Margaret
Atwood’s The Blind Assassin (2001, Anchor), do so now.
And finally, try some novels by a dead Austrian, Thomas Bernhard (died
1989), who won major European literary prizes for his amazingly sour
and bitter
prose. I suggest starting with either Old Masters (1992, University of
Chicago Press)
or Concrete (1986, University of Chicago Press), which according to the
publisher’s
accurate blurb is a tale of “procrastination, failure, and despair” but
is also “dark and grotesquely funny.” (Freshman Studies instructors,
be warned: he doesn't use paragraph divisions.)
Rex Myers
Lecturer in history and Freshman Studies
Derek Hayes, First Crossing: Alexander Mackenzie, His Expedition Across
North America, and the Opening of the Continent (2001, Douglass & McIntyre).
D’Arcy Jenish, Epic Wanderer: David Thompson and the Mapping of
the Canadian West (2003, Anchor Canada).
Alexander McKenzie crossed North America to the Pacific in 1793, 12
years before Lewis and Clark. David Thompson traveled the Columbia
River and
mapped it completely
by 1812, a half-dozen years after Lewis and Clark did a small part.
Taken together, these two Canadian explorers truly opened the region
to fur
trade and settlement.
Unfortunately, Americans know little about either man. Hayes’ lavishly
illustrated and well-researched book documents McKenzie’s historic continental
crossing — a feat that inspired Thomas Jefferson to push harder for United
States replication. Jenish meticulously chronicles the life of David Thompson,
who produced a map of the Pacific Northwest between the Columbia and Hudson’s
Bay in far more detail than William Clark. Both books are great reads
for individuals who want to broaden their understanding of the West and
explore
across the
border to learn that the United States did not necessarily do it first
or best.
Peter Peregrine
Associate professor of anthropology
Spencer Wells, The Journey of Man: A Genetic Odyssey (2002, Princeton
University Press). The Human Genome Project’s impact on medicine
seems still to lie somewhere in the future, but its impact on archaeology
can be measured
in this brief and well-written book. Wells walks the reader through the
complex
world of mtDNA and Y-chromosome variation in human populations and carefully
explains what those variations tell us about the history of humankind.
In brief, we are one species, we are all related to a population of humans
that spread
from Africa about 50,000 years ago, and most of us (unless you are of
Middle Eastern or Southern European descent) are related to a subsequent
population
that spread from western Asia about 40,000 years ago. A fascinating read.
If a genetic history of humankind isn’t your cup of tea, then you might
like the more traditional approach of father-and-son team J.R. and William
McNeill. Their book, The Human Web: A Bird's-Eye View of History (2003, W.W.
Norton), examines human history from the emergence of agriculture 11,000 years
ago to modern times from the framework of interaction networks or, as they
call them, “webs.” At 350 pages, much of the book is a gloss, but
it is a carefully constructed gloss and presents an interesting perspective.
It’s well worth reading.
Brent O. Peterson
Associate professor of German
Michael Gorra, The Bells in Their Silence: Travels Through Germany (2004, Princeton University Press). Unlike their counterparts in
departments of French, Italian,
or Spanish, German professors often have a love-hate relationship
with the culture they study. As Michael Gorra points out, “it is unlikely the
bestseller list will ever feature a volume called A Year in
Schleswig-Holstein or Under the Nordrhein-Westfälische Sun.” Gorra doesn’t
so much report on his travels in Germany as use the occasion of an extended
stay
in Hamburg to reflect on the nature of travel literature.
Walter Abish, Double Vision (2004, Knopf). Walter Abish’s new memoir,
Double Vision, works on the same problem, asking at one point if there is “anyone
outside of Germany who doesn’t hold a decided view of Germanness?” Abish,
who left Vienna as a boy in 1938, one jump ahead of the Nazis, confronts
his own relationship to the culture of his birth when he returns there
from America
for the first time in over 40 years after writing his 1980 novel, How
German Is It?
Brent O. Peterson, History, Fiction, and Germany: Writing the Nineteenth-Century
Nation (2005, Wayne State University Press). Finally, in a shamelessly
personal plug, if you are interested in how Germans came to think
of themselves as
a single, unified people rather than as inhabitants of the dozens
of independent mini-states where they actually lived in 1800, look
for
my book, which
will appear this spring.
Jerald Podair
Associate professor of history
Steve Oney, And the Dead Shall Rise: The Murder of Mary Phagan
and the Lynching of Leo Frank (2003, Pantheon Books). A powerful,
frightening,
unforgettable
book. This Pulitzer Prize-worthy account of the 1913 murder of
Atlanta factory girl Mary Phagan and the subsequent trial and
lynching of
her Jewish employer
does what great history must do: it tells a story that is important
both
on its own terms and as a window onto a larger one. Oney offers
us a South still
simmering with racial, cultural, regional, and class resentments
a half-century after the end of the Civil War, a powder keg ready
to
explode. Leo Frank,
an average man in the wrong place at the wrong time with the
wrong background, is caught in the blast, and our nation still feels
the aftershocks. A
book 17 years in the making and worth the wait.
Michael B. Oren, Six Days of War: June 1967 and the Making of
the Modern Middle East (2003, Presidio Press). A welcome antidote
to
the historical
illiteracy
that characterizes most contemporary discussions of Israeli-Arab
relations. This taut narrative of the Six Day War shows us not
only how close
Israel came to destruction in 1967 but how its miraculous triumph
created a
host of new
problems in the region that continue to haunt us today. A classic
illustration of the law of unanticipated consequences, one that
historians and policymakers
ignore at their peril.
William E. Gienapp, ed., This Fiery Trial: The Speeches and Writings
of Abraham Lincoln (2002, Oxford University Press). I often tell
my students that Abraham
Lincoln was America’s best political writer. Forget that. He was America’s
best writer, period. Have a problem with that? Read this impeccably chosen
selection of his addresses and letters, then we’ll talk. Lincoln
handled words and ideas like fine gems, and no one should ever tire of
reading his
prose.
Jacques Steinberg, The Gatekeepers: Inside the Admissions Process
of a Premier College (2003, Penguin Books). A disturbing look
at a college
admissions
system gone awry. The author, an education reporter for The New
York Times, spent
a year with the admissions staff at an elite Eastern liberal
arts college, and it’s not a pretty sight. From staffers who might as well be
selling Florida timeshares, to status-crazed applicants who view themselves
as
failures for not getting into, say, Brown, no one seems to regard education
as anything
more than a trading commodity. Read this book, then tell your college-age
son or daughter that there is plenty of room for talented people in this
country,
even if, God forbid, they are rejected at Brown.
Tom Kertscher, ed., Cracked Sidewalks and French Pastry: The
Wit and Wisdom of Al McGuire (2002, University of Wisconsin Press).
Coaching magician
and street-corner Kierkegaard, Al McGuire was New York City’s gift to Wisconsin
and, thanks to his career as a broadcaster, the nation. This coffee-table volume
collects his most famous sayings, some humorous, others outrageous, and all
very wise. You have to love someone who, after an older coach calls him “son,” snaps, “don’t
call me son unless you’re going to include me in your will.” And
you can’t do much better than McGuire’s description of pure happiness
as “seashells and balloons.” Wish I’d had the chance
to meet this guy.
Gervais Reed
Professor emeritus of French
Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner (2004, Riverhead Books). A first
novel about a youth in Afghanistan, his father, his father’s servant, and the servant’s
son. The novel offers insights into what Afghanistan once was and what it became
when it was invaded by the Soviets and then ruled by the Taliban. It’s
not a perfect work of fiction, but it contains an unusual psychology
of friendship, interesting characterization, and a gripping story.
Colm Toibin, The Master (2004, Scribner). A masterful pastiche
of Henry James’ style
in which Toibin tells what James’ inner life may have been.
Andrei Makine, Dreams of My Russian Summers (1997, Scribner).
Translated wonderfully well by Geoffrey Strachan, this novel,
written originally
in French, tells
the story of a Soviet boy’s affection for his French grandmother,
who seems to have lived through many significant events in the early
20th century.
Douglas Hill, Scenes from Sand County (recording, Oakwood Chamber
Players). Hill has composed music inspired by several passages
from Aldo Leopold’s
Sand County Almanac that are read by Karl Schmidt, who
is well known to listeners of Wisconsin Public Radio.
Susan Richards
Director of the Seeley G. Mudd Library and associate professor
Michael Crummey, River Thieves (2003, Houghton Mifflin; originally
published in Canada in 2001). This novel is a beautifully written,
compelling tale
of the clash between native and white cultures in early 19th-century
Newfoundland. Crummey, a well-known Canadian poet, evokes powerful
images of a breathtaking,
yet unforgiving landscape and how European incursion led to
the complete extermination
of the Beothuk or “Red Indians.” By examining lives of the Peyton
family, father and son who run a fishing and trapping business, Crummey creates
a thoughtful meditation on theft, love, and justice. At the same time, the
story of the inevitable extinction of the Beothuk tribe haunts the narrative — a
tragedy that one cannot (and should not) easily forget. Canada has some astonishingly
good writers, and Crummey is one of them. Don’t let your fiction
reading stop at our northern border.
Judith Holland Sarnecki
Professor of French
My favorite read of 2004 was Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident
of the Dog in the Night (2004, Vintage). A first-time author, Haddon
creates a 15-year-old
autistic narrator who does more than solve an odd mystery;
he teaches us a great deal about life and how we live it.
For mystery lovers I heartily recommend Marcia Muller’s series that features
her San Francisco P.I., Sharon McCone. There are over a dozen books that demonstrate
the author’s growth as a clever and capable mystery writer.
Begin with Edwin of the Iron Shoes (1990, Mysterious Press).
For fellow history buffs — who might appreciate the pleasure of learning
more about international relations during the period between the two world
wars — I recommend Margaret MacMillan’s Paris
1919: Six Months That Changed the World (2003, Random House).
Fred Sturm, ’73
Professor of music and chair of the jazz and improvisational
music department
Ashley Kahn, A Love Supreme: The Story of John Coltrane’s
Signature Album (2002, Viking Books). A compelling balance
of biography and analysis
illustrating
one of the most influential recordings in jazz history.
James Campbell, The Final Frontiersman: Heimo Korth and His
Family, Alone in Alaska’s Arctic Wilderness (2003, Atria Books). Raised in Appleton, Korth
now “lives more remotely than any other person in Alaska” — 130
miles above the Arctic Circle and 250 miles from the nearest road — with
his wife and two daughters.
Richard L. Yatzeck
Professor of Russian
In a fall tutorial with me, Michael Beauchaine, ’05, a fine biology
student, read five
works of natural history that might help anyone begin to
understand who we hominids are and where we come from:
Henry Thoreau, in Walden, asked, “am I not partly leaves and vegetable
mould myself?” Having watched a giant water bug dissolve and ingest a
small frog, Annie Dillard, in A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, took her theme question
from the Koran, where Allah asks: “The heaven and the earth and all in
between, thinkest thou I made them in jest?” Discussing an early mammalian
failure: the inability of a Paleocene rat — an early ancestor of ours — to
migrate from swamp to prairie, Loren Eiseley (The Immense
Journey) is nevertheless
moved to comment on the difficulty of analyzing hope. Richard Leakey, in The
Origins of Mankind, answers many questions about the descent of man unclear
to Eiseley 50 years earlier, but then departs from the purely Darwinian to
discuss the mystery of language that alone “could have broken through
the prison of immediate experience in which every other creature is locked,
releasing us into infinite freedoms of space and time.” Finally Barry
Lopez, whose Arctic Dreams was our favorite among all these riches, compares
the narwhal — a horned species of whale once confused with the unicorn — to
the quite mythical horned dragon, the Chinese ki-lin. The Chinese
beast had no immediate use but stood for kindliness and wisdom,
as we, in our
approach
to the natural world, and more particularly to the Arctic,
do not.
Books by Lawrence alumni
Compact discs by Lawrence musicians