"Just My Type" by Simon Garfield

I suppose you have to be a true nerd to be excited about a book like Just My Type, a compendium of essays on all things related to fonts. But, really, it's a fascinating subject, and it's to Garfield's credit that the book keeps a light tone and is chock full of party facts (e.g. "Upper or lower case? The term comes from the position of the loose metal compositor's hands before they were used to form a word--the commonly used ones on an accessible lower level, the capitals above them, waiting their turn" (23).) 

Just My Type takes the reader through the creation of type, starting with Gutenberg's printing press and continuing through modern digital type. He also discusses the history of many of the most well-known and ubiquitous fonts, as well as the philosophy and controversies behind typography itself (Should fonts be beautiful and recognizable? Or are the best fonts unnoticeable?). There's not a straightforward or linear structure to the book; each chapter addresses a specific topic, which makes it easy to read and digest.

There were many surprises for me. For example, the word "font" didn't enter ordinary language until the first Macintosh computer, which allowed users to easily change fonts for the first time. The creation of fonts would have seemed, to me, a relatively easy endeavor, but it was striking how much time and work went (and goes) into developing new fonts--it's an art form and a science.

Perhaps what I liked best about reading the book was how it brought out my own font feelings and prejudices. I'm a Times New Roman devotee, most likely because it was the default font on Microsoft Word in the mid-'90s, a time when I would have been first regularly crafting papers for school. Though, like all young people, I experimented with all the available fonts, writing some terrible play in which each new paragraph was a new font, I was largely conservative. To me, Times New Roman was the only real font, and I somehow just assumed everyone else felt the same. In fact, I probably would have (wrongly) said that all books and newspapers were printed in it--it's just so academic, so stately. It says, "I am intelligent and have something worthwhile to say" (even its appearance on a list of "worst fonts" in Just My Type does not deter me). Every document I write, whether it's a business letter, an application, or a handout for my students, is written in Times New Roman. 

I've always hated Arial, a font my classmates began using at a time when I was rigidly Times New Roman. To me, Arial, with its more rounded lettering and wider spacing, says:

I'm not very smart, and clearly I'm trying to cover up that my essay isn't long enough by using this font.

I felt somewhat vindicated to see many other people hate Arial, though their disdain comes from it being derivative of Helvetica.
 
But the font that really drives me bonkers is Calibri, the new default font for Windows 2007. The school at which I teach recently updated to Windows '07, and now all the computers are set for Calibri. It's even more rounded and soft than Arial, but it's somehow smaller than Times New Roman, so it's impossible to see when I'm trying to read my students' essays on their computers. Blech.

How would I ever consider giving an essay an A if it was written in Calibri?

 Just My Type is one of those books that has to be enjoyed as a book--not an ebook or audiobook--as the viewing of different fonts and accompanying photos is essential to its understanding. It's enjoyable and eye-opening, as it shows just how much an impact fonts have on our everyday life. 

"Dreams From My Father" by Barack Obama

I voted for Obama in 2008 and will do so again in 2012, but I realized that, like with most politicians, I don't know a whole about him personally, beyond the basics. Dreams From My Father, written well before his presidential and senate days, seemed an ideal place to start.

Obama's memoir is an interesting, though not especially absorbing, book. Though it's personal in its exploration of issues of identity and race, there's a certain aloofness to it as well. I learned a lot about Obama's early life, his complicated family, and his struggle to define himself, but I didn't feel like I got to know Obama as a whole. The cool and calm demeanor he's known for now seemed always present.

However, there's a lot to gain from Dreams beyond studying Obama himself. He's especially astute in discussing the black experience in America and the difficulties of improving individuals' and communities' lives. Obama spends a while discussing his time as an organizer in Chicago. It's admirable work but extraordinarily frustrating; I kept finding myself becoming cynical about anyone's ability to enact change. When he travels to Kenya to meet his family through his father's side, he's able to compare and contrast the lives of people in two very separate countries.

From Dreams From My Father I learned about Obama's early life, and I appreciated his analysis of race, but I feel like I missed out on connecting to him as a person. Of course, that's what I wanted out of the book, not necessarily what Obama intended, and perhaps what he did discuss was more important for me to read.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens

A Tale of Two Cities has been immortalized by its opening ("It was the best of times...") and closing lines ("It is a far, far better thing that I do..."), and when I began reading the book for the second or third time, I doubted Dickens' renowned words would have much effect on me. So, I was surprised that by the time I reached Carton's famous last words, I was teary and emotional, overwhelmed despite my intentions otherwise.

Dickens' story of the excesses of the French Revolution comes down firmly against the revolutionaries, though it is sympathetic in the plight and exploitation of the people by the aristocrats. I would have preferred some nuance here, but Dickens is so skillful in his description and in evoking emotions of outrage (both against the rich and the mob of the people) that the novel works anyway.

For me, the greatest weakness of Dickens' story is the simplicity of his characters, who are mostly one-dimensional: either noble, true, and innocent or bitter, ruthless, and unforgiving. This dichotomy is most present in his female characters of Lucie Manette and Madame Defarge. Lucie is young, pretty and pure, and because of that, she is beloved by everyone--and I found her annoying. Like Les Miserables' Cosette, Lucie has no real personality yet is the axis on which all the other characters turn. Evil is always more interesting, and so is Madame Defarge, even though she's no less a flat character. Defarge's constant knitting serves as one of the most indelible images from the novel, and her single-minded pursuit of revenge forces the narrative forward. However, even when her backstory is revealed, she is made no more sympathetic, which is a shame.

The male characters are somewhat better, though Darnay is for the most part a mirror of his wife Lucie, and Mr. Lorry benefits only from his age and kindliness. Sydney Carton, the hero of the story, is the only real exception, as he's a man with true good and bad inside him.

Listening to the novel at a leisurely pace was a perfect way to re-enter a story I was already familiar with. Narrator Simon Prebble does an excellent job with the male and female voices and keeps the pace moving appropriately.

I enjoyed A Tale of Two Cities when I first read it as a highschooler, and it was no less enjoyable this time around.

"The Psychopath Test" by Jon Ronson

This seems to be the time for challenges to the world of psychiatry among my reading. There was Sybil Exposed last month, and now Ronson's The Psychopath Test. The latter is less clearly focused than the former, but it's a lot more fun. Ronson's new book explores the diagnosis of psychopaths and some of the problems surrounding it. He also interviews and researches some diagnosed and potential psychopaths in hopes of learning more about them. 

Unlike most nonfiction books which have a clear central premise, The Psychopath Test is much more loosely organized. The book begins with Ronson's interest in the somewhat vogue idea that many of our great leaders are psychopaths (or have other personality disorders), and that illness helped them achieve their greatness. Nonetheless, the book doesn't stay on this train of thought, exploring everything from Scientology's anti-psychiatry crusade, to conspiracy theorists, to the creation of the DSM (the APA's diagnostic manual). Reading the book is, at times, like following Ronson's stream of conscious association; everything doesn't always seem relevant (for example, he spends time criticizing the DSM, but "psychopathy" is not even a disorder listed), but it's so interesting that it doesn't matter.

One train of thought that initially sets Ronson off is his skepticism at the legitimacy of some of the APA disorders. This idea ran throughout Sybil Exposed, though Ronson's book stays more neutral than Sybil. I was drawn in because it's something I feel myself, even though I'm married to a psychologist, perhaps because I teach at a public school in which learning disabilities are excessively over-diagnosed for students by parents looking for excuses and rationales for medication rather than the truth. Ronson's not out to "expose" the APA or challenge its work, but his research does raise questions about the manner in which disorders are created and diagnoses made, as well as psychiatry's close relationship with pharmaceutical companies. As Ronson says near the end of the book, "There are obviously a lot of very ill people out there. But there are also people in the middle, getting overlabeled, becoming nothing more than a big splurge of madness in the minds of the people who benefit from it."

Ronson is a personal writer whose use of his own story creates intimacy with the reader. He's comically self-referential (as when he continually reflects about whether he's displaying psychopathic tendencies) and approaches his material much like his reader would.

I don't know if The Psychopath Test would be best for someone researching psychopathy, and it probably annoys some psychiatrists, but I found it fascinating and a lot of fun while also providing some insight into the problems facing the psychiatry field today.

"Across the Universe" by Beth Revis

Though I'd had this book on my radar for awhile, it was Revis' savvy marketing technique that finally drew me in--she convinced her publisher to include the names of every one of her early Facebook fans in the acknowledgements of the paperback version of the novel. And, since I was one of those fans, I couldn't resist buying the novel. Smart Revis, very smart.

I've not been very interested in YA this year, but I liked the premise of Across the Universe. Amy is cryogenically frozen, along with her parents, for a 300-year voyage in the spaceship Godspeed to a new planet Earth is hoping to colonize. However, she's woken up fifty years early and finds herself among the inhabitants of Godspeed, including its leader-in-training, Elder. With Elder, Amy tries to determine who's waking up individuals early and what secrets Eldest, the current leader, is keeping from his people. It's a neat premise, even if its execution didn't fully live up to it.

The setting and situation allow for a lot of questions to be explored. How would you maintain peace and happiness among people confined to such a small area of life? How would you maintain a population while avoiding overpopulation or genetic problems due to incest? I enjoyed exploring Revis' answers to these questions, even though their complexity is dampened by the stereotypical evil of Eldest. Early in the novel, he instructs Elder that one of the primary causes of discord is "difference," and since we all grew up with children's books about puppies and rabbits getting along, we know he's bad. By the time we learn he thinks Hitler was a good leader (Really? You don't think we got it?) and that another cause of discord is "independent thought" ("Evil, evil!" us independence-lovin' Americans shout), there's not a lot of hope for nuance.

Elder's lack of questioning about his history (e.g. he knows about classic American leaders like Abraham Lincoln but he doesn't wonder how many Eldests there have been or how long ago the Plague was) and the overly simplistic explanations for technology are also somewhat disappointing. Nonetheless, despite my issues with the world's construction, there are some good things. Revis has created an interesting mystery in a claustrophobic environment. The pace moves quickly, alternating between Amy and Elder, so the novel never feels boring. Not all the questions are addressed satisfactorily, but enough are answered to wrap up the book and leave an appealing opening for its sequel.

Across the Universe wasn't the novel to break my YA slump, but it was a quick and largely enjoyable read, so long as I didn't think about it too much afterwards.

"Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)" by Mindy Kaling

Fair or not, Kaling's book is bound to be compared to Tina Fey's Bossypants. In fact, I'm going to compare them. It's hard not to--both women are television comedy writers and actors for popular quirky shows that appear on the same night on NBC, and their books address similar topics (childhood, the entertainment business) through a similar structure. In the end, I enjoyed Fey's book more, though that's not to say Kaling's work is not enjoyable.

Kaling had a reassuringly "good" and average upbringing (nice to be reminded that celebrities tend to start as "one of us"), though her stories of post-college life are funnier. She describes trying to make it in New York (I especially enjoyed her description of her audition for the musical Bollywood Nights) and her recognition with the creation of the play Matt and Ben, which landed her the Office job. She spends a lot of time on her female friendships, relationships which are so close as to have made me a bit jealous.

Kaling and Fey are both willing to make fun of themselves, which I think is essential for any kind of celebrity writer. Nevertheless, you come away from Fey's book thinking, "Damn, that woman is scary competent." On the other hand, I found myself periodically thinking "Wow, Kaling's so lucky to have stumbled onto this Office gig" and then having to correct myself. Obviously Kaling is an intelligent and talented writer who earned her place, but she's so self-deprecating that you begin to doubt it. I think this is a shame.

Kaling is on one of my favorite television shows, and she has written some of its best episodes, but for me, the book only elicited the occasional chuckle. Kaling felt more like a very open friend than a professional comedian (though she'd probably denounce that title), though even so the book left me a bit cold. Nevertheless, the book is slim and a quick read, so I wouldn't discourage anyone from trying it.

P.S. Something I learned from Is Everyone and Bossypants (and everything I've ever seen her in): Amy Poehler is awesome. Where's your book, Amy?

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Cleopatra: A Life" by Stacy Schiff

Schiff's new biography of Cleopatra sets out to dispel some of the myths that have surrounded the famous queen for ages, particularly those portraying her as nothing more than a seductress, a femme fatale who led Julius Caesar astray and destroyed Mark Antony. In A Life, Schiff instead posits Cleopatra as an intelligent strategist focused on maintaining her rule and independent kingdom.

There are a lot of great details throughout the book that make it a fascinating read for anyone interested in the classical world. Cleopatra was part of the Ptolemy dynasty that had ruled Egypt for years, yet they were Greek. The family had a nasty habit of killing each other off in order to gain the throne (and you thought the characters in A Game of Thrones were bad), something Cleopatra gamely participated in as well. So fabulous was Cleopatra's wealth that she gave away horses and couches to Roman dinner guests.

It's Cleopatra's relationships with the Roman leaders Caesar and Antony that have given her the most notoriety. These relationships take up much of the book, though the men come more to life than Cleopatra. In the end, it's difficult to know how exactly Cleopatra felt about the relationships. On the one hand, Egypt needed Rome as an ally, so a relationship with the men makes political sense. On the other hand, Cleopatra had children by both men and famously commits suicide after Antony's death (though, significantly, she does so after being conquered and imprisoned). Did she love them? Did they love her? These questions cannot be fully answered.

Though Schiff's research is exhaustive, in the end, the reader learns more about the context surrounding Cleopatra than the queen herself. This may be largely because history is written by the winners--in this case, the Romans--so the information we have on her is from a biased and critical Roman-centered point of view. Schiff does a nice job of trying to parse through the sources, determining each author's agenda, but it also means she's left with little in the way of fact. Most everything about Cleopatra herself is boiled down to "probably's." It was frustrating to know so much about Caesar, Antony, Cleopatra's wealth, Alexandria's status in the Mediterranean, and the status of women and so little about the the woman herself.

The book does not begin chronologically, and so I found it confusing at first because it would jump back and forth in time. Once it became traditionally chronological, I had an easier time. I listened to the audiobook version, narrated by Robin Miles. Miles has a pleasant neutral voice, but she's not particularly engaging, and I wished for a bit more spunk. I did fall asleep at intervals during the book, but I'll attribute that more to my tiredness than a failure of Schiff's work.

Cleopatra: A Life is a comprehensive look at an interesting and important period in history and the intersection of two very different cultures. Although at times a tad dry or repetitive, Schiff does much to raise Cleopatra beyond the Hollywood image of her and into her own right as a powerful and intelligent leader of a nation.