In Extreme Measures, Mitch Rapp and his partner Mike Nash come under fire for their unorthodox and perhaps illegal means of extracting information from a group of terrorists--in other words, torturing them. They still fail to prevent a terrorist attack on Washington, D.C., but they do manage to save hundreds of lives with their quick thinking and quick triggers. The book ends with the debris smoking and some of the masterminds of the attack on the run.
Pursuit of Honor finds Rapp hot on the trail of the terrorists. The president has given him the green light to go after them, and former foes in the halls of power are coming over to his side. Pursuit, less action-heavy than some of the books in the Rapp series, showcases the cerebral side of Mitch Rapp. No question he still leaves a trail of writhing bodies if people get in his way, but more importantly, he tracks down leads and puts pieces of the puzzle together to bring the terrorists to justice.
More than I can remember in the other books in this series, Flynn spends more time with the terrorists themselves. The reader sees their conflicts between one another, their internal struggles with the whole idea of the jihad, and, almost, a touch of sympathy and humanity. Flynn never compromises by taking the side of the terrorists, but he does let us see the terrorists' actions from their own perspective.
We also see into the mind and background of Rapp. For a series that has gone on for 10 books now, Flynn keeps building Rapp's background, keeping it fresh. (One note that the Rapp fan will appreciate: Marcus, the CIA computer wiz, appears in most, if not all, of these novels. There were several in a row in which, when Flynn first introduced Marcus, it seemed as if Flynn used cut and paste, putting the exact same text in each book. Thankfully, he managed to include Marcus in Pursuit without the cut and paste addition.) Rapp is probably not someone I would want to hang out with. He would probably think I am a wimp and a loser, although since he was a highly competitive triathlete, he might grant me some grudging respect for being an ultramarathoner. Personalities aside, he is the kind of man I wish we had on the hunt for Bin Laden and his ilk. Maybe we do; if the real CIA is as good at covering its tracks and running black ops as Flynn's fictional CIA, there's a lot going on in counter-terrorism that noone ever hears about.
I mentioned in my review of Protect and Defend that Rapp was much like Jack Bauer of the TV show 24. They both passionately chase the bad guys, don't hesitate to knock heads, use "extreme measures" (torture) to get information from captives, or even put a bullet in the head of a terrorist. Neither has any patience for bureaucratic barriers to justice, and both tend to act on their own, asking forgiveness later rather than permission before. But neither Rapp nor Bauer need to ask forgiveness, since things always seem to work out for them.
Rapp, more concerned with what is moral than what is legal, has an enlightening exchange with a nemesis of his in the Senate. At a closed hearing, the liberal, female senator chairing the hearing, confronts him with accusations of torturing a suspect. (The suspect, a confirmed participant in the terrorist bombings, was reluctant to give up information about the ongoing activities of his colleagues.) Leaving all decorum aside, Rapp confronted the senator with the contrast between her active advocacy of the right to partial-birth abortion and her desire to protect the rights of a known killer. What is more moral, to stick a tube in the skull of an unborn child and suck out her brains, or to slap around a known terrorist to save countless American lives?
This kind of conservative ideology does inform Flynn's books, but it takes a back seat to the plot and character development. The politically liberal reader might be put off by it. Oh, well. These books are a fun, exciting read, and without flag-waving naivete portray the hard-core patriotism that I hope any American warrior in the war on terror will hold to.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The Fellowship of the Ring
I don't know that there's much I can say about The Fellowship of the Ring. The Lord of the Rings is one of the great novels of the 20th century, no question about it. It has so much richness that it warrants revisiting from time to time. Even though you know the end, and have seen the wonderful movies, a rereading will not disappoint.
This time around, I listened to the audio version read by Rob Inglis. This is an unabridged reading of the original text, not a dramatization, so there's no music or sound effects. But Inglis does a brilliant job of bringing the story and characters to life.
One thing that struck me, which I guess is a pretty obvious point, was the picture of addiction painted by the draw of the One Ring for its bearers. Kelly and I were house parents and spiritual directors of Manna House, a ministry of Mission Waco, for a while, and saw first-hand how drug and alcohol addictions can control a person. The Ring, possessed by Gollum for many years, reduced him to an unrecognizable, withered creature. Does that sound familiar to anyone who has been around drug addicts?
Bilbo found the Ring, and held it for many years without becoming the addict that Gollum was. Still, when it came time to give it up, he was reluctant to do so. To his friend Gandalf, who insists that Bilbo not keep the Ring, Bilbo hotly replies, "I don't like parting with it at all, I may say. And I don't really see why I should. Why do you want me to? . . . You are always badgering me about my ring." Imagine confronting an alcoholic about giving up drink. You might hear, "You are always badgering me about my drinking," if he were someone who might use a word like badgering. Bilbo finally does leave it with his nephew, Frodo, but not without some internal struggle.
Like Bilbo, Frodo keeps the ring without letting it control him. Gandalf warns him, "It is far more powerful than I ever dared to think at first, so powerful that in the end it would utterly overcome anyone of mortal race who possessed it. It would possess him." Of those who possess any of the Great Rings, "sooner or later--later, if he is strong and well-meaning to begin with, but neither strength nor good purpose will last--sooner or later the dark power will devour him." Some years after Bilbo leaves the Ring to Frodo, they meet again. Bilbo asks to see the Ring, but when Frodo hesitates, he sees Bilbo as the latent addict: "a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands."
We get some insight into why Bilbo has avoided the withering addiction that Gollum gave into. Gollum originally took the Ring by force from his companion, killing him in the process. Upon hearing the story of the Ring, and how it came to Gollum's hands and then BIlbo's, Frodo exclaims, "What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!" Gandalf sagely replies, "Pity? It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity."
His charge to steward, and eventually destroy, the Ring weighs heavily on Frodo. But the Fellowship that forms around him, first with his faithful companions from the Shire, then with wise and powerful allies he meets at Rivendell, proves to support and protect him faithfully on his journeying. Even though Fellowship ends with Frodo leaving the Fellowship, through the next two books the Fellowship does not falter in their support of Frodo's quest.
Tolkien masterfully combines creativity, believably constructing a new world, with its own history, geography, anthropology, and languages, with a story that is at once suspenseful, humorous, entertaining, and thematically profound. Few have matched him. I'm eager to continue Rob Inglis's reading of the next two books of The Lord of the Rings.
This time around, I listened to the audio version read by Rob Inglis. This is an unabridged reading of the original text, not a dramatization, so there's no music or sound effects. But Inglis does a brilliant job of bringing the story and characters to life.
One thing that struck me, which I guess is a pretty obvious point, was the picture of addiction painted by the draw of the One Ring for its bearers. Kelly and I were house parents and spiritual directors of Manna House, a ministry of Mission Waco, for a while, and saw first-hand how drug and alcohol addictions can control a person. The Ring, possessed by Gollum for many years, reduced him to an unrecognizable, withered creature. Does that sound familiar to anyone who has been around drug addicts?
Bilbo found the Ring, and held it for many years without becoming the addict that Gollum was. Still, when it came time to give it up, he was reluctant to do so. To his friend Gandalf, who insists that Bilbo not keep the Ring, Bilbo hotly replies, "I don't like parting with it at all, I may say. And I don't really see why I should. Why do you want me to? . . . You are always badgering me about my ring." Imagine confronting an alcoholic about giving up drink. You might hear, "You are always badgering me about my drinking," if he were someone who might use a word like badgering. Bilbo finally does leave it with his nephew, Frodo, but not without some internal struggle.
Like Bilbo, Frodo keeps the ring without letting it control him. Gandalf warns him, "It is far more powerful than I ever dared to think at first, so powerful that in the end it would utterly overcome anyone of mortal race who possessed it. It would possess him." Of those who possess any of the Great Rings, "sooner or later--later, if he is strong and well-meaning to begin with, but neither strength nor good purpose will last--sooner or later the dark power will devour him." Some years after Bilbo leaves the Ring to Frodo, they meet again. Bilbo asks to see the Ring, but when Frodo hesitates, he sees Bilbo as the latent addict: "a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands."
We get some insight into why Bilbo has avoided the withering addiction that Gollum gave into. Gollum originally took the Ring by force from his companion, killing him in the process. Upon hearing the story of the Ring, and how it came to Gollum's hands and then BIlbo's, Frodo exclaims, "What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!" Gandalf sagely replies, "Pity? It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity."
His charge to steward, and eventually destroy, the Ring weighs heavily on Frodo. But the Fellowship that forms around him, first with his faithful companions from the Shire, then with wise and powerful allies he meets at Rivendell, proves to support and protect him faithfully on his journeying. Even though Fellowship ends with Frodo leaving the Fellowship, through the next two books the Fellowship does not falter in their support of Frodo's quest.
Tolkien masterfully combines creativity, believably constructing a new world, with its own history, geography, anthropology, and languages, with a story that is at once suspenseful, humorous, entertaining, and thematically profound. Few have matched him. I'm eager to continue Rob Inglis's reading of the next two books of The Lord of the Rings.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Manifold: Time and Manifold:Space
Stephen Baxter, acknowledged by some as an heir to the sci-fi tradition of Clarke and Heinlein, takes on big questions and extrapolates hard science in the Manifold series.
Manifold: Time started out with great promise. The story builds on one of my favorite sci-fi themes: private entrepreneurs and adventurers ignoring the stifling red tape of government and beating NASA at their own game. In Manifold: Time, Reid Malenfant (doesn't that mean bad child in French?) has made a fortune in high-tech industry, and uses that fortune to fulfill his dream of going into space. What starts out as a business venture to make billions of dollars mining the asteroids gets a bit sidetracked when a message from the future directs the mission to a less-promising asteroid.
Baxter, with degrees in math and engineering, brings a convincing sense of realism to his science fiction. The design of his spaceship uses currently available technology. His descriptions of the mundane details of space travel reflect the time he took training for a guest spot on the Mir (he wasn't chosen). The brain augmentation of squids to equip them with the ability to follow commands and operate the spaceship seems brilliant, and adds to the story in a very interesting way, but I don't know how believable it is.
The conflict with the government over the launch, the squids' adaptation and quick evolution in space (as swimmers, they are more suited to zero-g), the mystery around the brilliant children, all put together make for some gripping story telling. When they arrive at the asteroid and discover a time/space portal, the speculative nature of the story gets pretty wild. The squids stage a revolt and take off in a space ship of their own design for a new home, and Malenfant ends up taking a tour of the future for millenia, via the space/time portal, giving a fast forward picture of the destiny of the galaxy.
Manifold: Space builds around one of my other favorite sci-fi themes. I remember as a kid thinking that either God created this universe to be colonized, eventually, by humans, or he created beings on other worlds that we would eventually meet. I didn't think the infinite universe would exist only for us to observe from our little corner of the solar system. Baxter explores similar thoughts, which Enrico Fermi articulated in what is known as the Fermi Paradox. In an infinite universe, the paradox states, there should be abundant extraterrestrial life, so why don't we encounter any?
In Manifold: Space, we do. The Gaijin, who remain very mysterious and aloof, have used the time/space portals, such as we saw in Manifold: Time, to explore many galaxies. They selectively let humans in on some technological secrets, but many suspect the Gaijin's humanitarian (Gaijinarian?) motives. Humans begin to see evidence of planets laid waste, they suspect as a result of invading species from other planets, and wonder if Earth is next.
Manifold: Space, even more than Manifold: Time, becomes too unwieldy to enjoy. Both of these have wonderful ideas, brilliant descriptions of technology and explorations of scientific ideas, and some elements of an interesting plot. The problem is that the latter (plot) gets lost amid all the brilliance. Manifold: Time especially suffers from Baxter's scope; the story drags on for centuries, with a huge, sparsely related cast of characters. I got lost. But I have a little bitty brain.
There is a third book, Manifold: Origins, but I don't think I care enough about the fate of Malenfant's many universes to pick that one up. I'm not through with Baxter, though. I read Light of Other Days, which he co-wrote with Arthur C. Clarke, and enjoyed it, and I'd like to read his alternative history in which the U.S. space program heads to Mars rather than focusing on the shuttle program. Maybe with that series, he can stay a little more focused and bring together the great science and great story telling.
Manifold: Time started out with great promise. The story builds on one of my favorite sci-fi themes: private entrepreneurs and adventurers ignoring the stifling red tape of government and beating NASA at their own game. In Manifold: Time, Reid Malenfant (doesn't that mean bad child in French?) has made a fortune in high-tech industry, and uses that fortune to fulfill his dream of going into space. What starts out as a business venture to make billions of dollars mining the asteroids gets a bit sidetracked when a message from the future directs the mission to a less-promising asteroid.
Baxter, with degrees in math and engineering, brings a convincing sense of realism to his science fiction. The design of his spaceship uses currently available technology. His descriptions of the mundane details of space travel reflect the time he took training for a guest spot on the Mir (he wasn't chosen). The brain augmentation of squids to equip them with the ability to follow commands and operate the spaceship seems brilliant, and adds to the story in a very interesting way, but I don't know how believable it is.
The conflict with the government over the launch, the squids' adaptation and quick evolution in space (as swimmers, they are more suited to zero-g), the mystery around the brilliant children, all put together make for some gripping story telling. When they arrive at the asteroid and discover a time/space portal, the speculative nature of the story gets pretty wild. The squids stage a revolt and take off in a space ship of their own design for a new home, and Malenfant ends up taking a tour of the future for millenia, via the space/time portal, giving a fast forward picture of the destiny of the galaxy.
Manifold: Space builds around one of my other favorite sci-fi themes. I remember as a kid thinking that either God created this universe to be colonized, eventually, by humans, or he created beings on other worlds that we would eventually meet. I didn't think the infinite universe would exist only for us to observe from our little corner of the solar system. Baxter explores similar thoughts, which Enrico Fermi articulated in what is known as the Fermi Paradox. In an infinite universe, the paradox states, there should be abundant extraterrestrial life, so why don't we encounter any?
In Manifold: Space, we do. The Gaijin, who remain very mysterious and aloof, have used the time/space portals, such as we saw in Manifold: Time, to explore many galaxies. They selectively let humans in on some technological secrets, but many suspect the Gaijin's humanitarian (Gaijinarian?) motives. Humans begin to see evidence of planets laid waste, they suspect as a result of invading species from other planets, and wonder if Earth is next.
Manifold: Space, even more than Manifold: Time, becomes too unwieldy to enjoy. Both of these have wonderful ideas, brilliant descriptions of technology and explorations of scientific ideas, and some elements of an interesting plot. The problem is that the latter (plot) gets lost amid all the brilliance. Manifold: Time especially suffers from Baxter's scope; the story drags on for centuries, with a huge, sparsely related cast of characters. I got lost. But I have a little bitty brain.
There is a third book, Manifold: Origins, but I don't think I care enough about the fate of Malenfant's many universes to pick that one up. I'm not through with Baxter, though. I read Light of Other Days, which he co-wrote with Arthur C. Clarke, and enjoyed it, and I'd like to read his alternative history in which the U.S. space program heads to Mars rather than focusing on the shuttle program. Maybe with that series, he can stay a little more focused and bring together the great science and great story telling.
Monday, November 16, 2009
My Fathers' Daughter, by Hannah Pool
One of the things I enjoy most about getting together with other adoptive families (such as at Families Like Us events) is swapping adoption stories. Frequently I tear up as I hear other's stories, and I love telling the story of my family's adoption of Zippy. I don't hear as many stories about meeting birth families. One of our friends took their daughter to Haiti a few months ago to meet her birth family. We had a sweet time with Zippy's birth mother in June. (Read about it here.) My Fathers' Daughter tells the story of Hannah Pool's reunion with her birth family. She provides a valuable resource for adoptive families, particularly those who adopt internationally or transracially, who wonder about the whirlwind of emotional issues in such a reunion.
Ms. Pool, a writer for The Guardian, was born in Eritrea. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father placed her in an orphanage. The orphanage had record that both parents had died, and placed Hannah as a baby with a white couple who was then living in Eritrea. A short time later, they moved back to Europe, and Hannah grew up in England. In My Fathers' Daughter (note the placement of the apostrophe--a significant detail that is easy to miss), Pool recounts the story of discovering that her father was, in fact, still living, and her subsequent trip to Eritrea to meet the family of her birth.
There is much to love in her story. A professional journalist, Pool tells a wonderful story, providing details and background that draw in the reader. And what a rich story she tells. She skillfully and beautifully conveys her feelings upon learning that her birth father is alive, upon meeting him and other family members, upon seeing the bed on which she was born and her mother died, and more. After a lifetime of feeling disconnected from her home country and birth family, she finally connects and feels a sense of belonging.
In one moving passage, Pool anticipates meeting her birth father and Eritrean relatives for the first time, after a lifetime of being around no one related to her by birth. It's about "being able to look in a mirror and know you have your father's eyes and your mother's lips," about knowing medical history, looking at nieces and nephews and wondering what your own children will look like, knowing if you will likely be fat, thin, tall, short. (99-100) Every adoptee must have the same kind of questions at one time or another. I am reminded of a time when (my very white wife) Kelly and (my African-American son) Zippy were cheek to cheek, looking in the mirror. Kelly asked Zippy if he thought they looked alike. Without missing a beat he said yes, the whites of their eyes are the same!
One of Pool's most pressing questions for her Eritrean family is why they placed her in the orphanage. Her feelings of rejection run deep. For "normal" families, "the thing that remains the same is the sense of belonging, that families are permanent. The almost invisible confidence that comes from knowing no matter what happens, your parents will always be your parents. No matter how often your adoptive family tells you they love you, no matter how much you believe them, for the adoptee there is always the knowledge that a parent can decide they don't want you anymore, sign a few forms, and wash their hands of you. . . . It's tattooed on your psyche: love is temporary." (88) This passage rips at my heart. Pool doesn't say much about her adoptive family, but what she does say is very positive. She worries that they will feel betrayed by her tracing her birth family, but they support her at every step. I don't see a justification for her insecurity about their love for her. I hope and pray that as Zippy grows, he will always know that there is nothing temporary about our love for him. I hope it's tatooed on his psyche that Kelly and Chloe and Elliot and I and all of our extended family love him unconditionally.
Pool goes on to say that most adoptees wish they were never adopted. "Even though I know more [adoptees] than most, I have never heard the words, 'I'm glad I was adopted.' . . . We all wish we hadn't been put up for adoption." In Pool's case, she knows that in Eritrea she would have faced hunger, drought, displacement due to war, likely early death, and if not, then national service at the front lines, possible genital mutilation, an arranged marriage, and children in her teens. "But . . . I still wish I had never been adopted." (102-103) Later, while visiting family in the rural village where her father lives, she confesses that she envies her nieces. "[T]hey have something I have never had. They are slap bang in the middle of a normal, happy Eritrean childhood. . . . I am jealous of their few uncertainties." (220) Despite their poverty, Pool longs to be a part of their life, to share their lifestyle. Maybe Zippy will look at his birth family's life one day and think the same things. Maybe all adoptees think such things. But I believe and hope with all my heart that he will say "I'm glad I was adopted!"
I can't help but think that Pool would feel differently about adoption and the course of her life if she had a foundation of faith. She wears her atheism on her sleeve. For instance, upon learning that her father was really alive, she feels a deep sense of gratitude without an object. "It's times like these when it would be handy to have a religion. If I believed in a god, I'd have someone to thank, and it's be nice to have someone to thank. As it is I'll have to settle for my own version: my father is alive, thank f--- for that." (24) Later, upon meeting her extended family, they all thank God for her coming. She does not quite know how to respond to all this religious sentiment. "I want to say Lufthansa brought me here, not God, and if he was so great, then why did God separate us in the first place? . . . I want to say that God is a load of baloney . . . and that anyone who thanks him for anything is a fool. I want to say that I came here, me, on my own, without help from a divine being. . . . I want to say God didn't take me away, you gave me up." (112)
A couple of other notes, not so related to adoption. Pool, and African woman who grew up in a white family in a majority white culture, has some interesting insights into race and feminism. The first time she heads out on the street in Asmara, the Eritrean capital, the attitude of the people surprises her. "Everyone looks so comfortable, so relaxed, walking around as if they own the place. So this is what black people look like when they are not having to constantly look over their shoulder, or justify their presence." (63) She relishes the times when people take her for a native Eritrean, not standing out the way she does at home at London. Those of us white families who have adopted children of other races should bear in mind the potential alienation and isolation they might feel in majority white culture. Her experience here reminds us that spending time among people of his or her own race can provide a huge boost in confidence and acceptance of his or her identity.
Upon returning home, the disparity of wealth between the first and third worlds bothers Pool, just as it does many Westerners who visit developing countries. Only with her, it is much more personal. "It is one thing to spend a fortune on shoes and bags without a second thought; it is quite another to do so when you know your sister and her family would not survive without food aid. I found it hard enough to read or see reports of drought, potential famine, and possible war before I went to Eritrea, so what will it be like now that I can put names and faces to the statistics?" (265)
Despite some of the negative comments about adoption and Pool's blatant atheism (and the self-centered, materialistic, libertine attitudes that result), My Fathers' Daughter gives wonderful insight into the struggles, questions, and insecurities of the international and/or transracial adoptee. Her colorful storytelling, honest emotional revelations, and probing self-reflection make this a highly recommended read.
Ms. Pool, a writer for The Guardian, was born in Eritrea. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father placed her in an orphanage. The orphanage had record that both parents had died, and placed Hannah as a baby with a white couple who was then living in Eritrea. A short time later, they moved back to Europe, and Hannah grew up in England. In My Fathers' Daughter (note the placement of the apostrophe--a significant detail that is easy to miss), Pool recounts the story of discovering that her father was, in fact, still living, and her subsequent trip to Eritrea to meet the family of her birth.
There is much to love in her story. A professional journalist, Pool tells a wonderful story, providing details and background that draw in the reader. And what a rich story she tells. She skillfully and beautifully conveys her feelings upon learning that her birth father is alive, upon meeting him and other family members, upon seeing the bed on which she was born and her mother died, and more. After a lifetime of feeling disconnected from her home country and birth family, she finally connects and feels a sense of belonging.
In one moving passage, Pool anticipates meeting her birth father and Eritrean relatives for the first time, after a lifetime of being around no one related to her by birth. It's about "being able to look in a mirror and know you have your father's eyes and your mother's lips," about knowing medical history, looking at nieces and nephews and wondering what your own children will look like, knowing if you will likely be fat, thin, tall, short. (99-100) Every adoptee must have the same kind of questions at one time or another. I am reminded of a time when (my very white wife) Kelly and (my African-American son) Zippy were cheek to cheek, looking in the mirror. Kelly asked Zippy if he thought they looked alike. Without missing a beat he said yes, the whites of their eyes are the same!
One of Pool's most pressing questions for her Eritrean family is why they placed her in the orphanage. Her feelings of rejection run deep. For "normal" families, "the thing that remains the same is the sense of belonging, that families are permanent. The almost invisible confidence that comes from knowing no matter what happens, your parents will always be your parents. No matter how often your adoptive family tells you they love you, no matter how much you believe them, for the adoptee there is always the knowledge that a parent can decide they don't want you anymore, sign a few forms, and wash their hands of you. . . . It's tattooed on your psyche: love is temporary." (88) This passage rips at my heart. Pool doesn't say much about her adoptive family, but what she does say is very positive. She worries that they will feel betrayed by her tracing her birth family, but they support her at every step. I don't see a justification for her insecurity about their love for her. I hope and pray that as Zippy grows, he will always know that there is nothing temporary about our love for him. I hope it's tatooed on his psyche that Kelly and Chloe and Elliot and I and all of our extended family love him unconditionally.
Pool goes on to say that most adoptees wish they were never adopted. "Even though I know more [adoptees] than most, I have never heard the words, 'I'm glad I was adopted.' . . . We all wish we hadn't been put up for adoption." In Pool's case, she knows that in Eritrea she would have faced hunger, drought, displacement due to war, likely early death, and if not, then national service at the front lines, possible genital mutilation, an arranged marriage, and children in her teens. "But . . . I still wish I had never been adopted." (102-103) Later, while visiting family in the rural village where her father lives, she confesses that she envies her nieces. "[T]hey have something I have never had. They are slap bang in the middle of a normal, happy Eritrean childhood. . . . I am jealous of their few uncertainties." (220) Despite their poverty, Pool longs to be a part of their life, to share their lifestyle. Maybe Zippy will look at his birth family's life one day and think the same things. Maybe all adoptees think such things. But I believe and hope with all my heart that he will say "I'm glad I was adopted!"
I can't help but think that Pool would feel differently about adoption and the course of her life if she had a foundation of faith. She wears her atheism on her sleeve. For instance, upon learning that her father was really alive, she feels a deep sense of gratitude without an object. "It's times like these when it would be handy to have a religion. If I believed in a god, I'd have someone to thank, and it's be nice to have someone to thank. As it is I'll have to settle for my own version: my father is alive, thank f--- for that." (24) Later, upon meeting her extended family, they all thank God for her coming. She does not quite know how to respond to all this religious sentiment. "I want to say Lufthansa brought me here, not God, and if he was so great, then why did God separate us in the first place? . . . I want to say that God is a load of baloney . . . and that anyone who thanks him for anything is a fool. I want to say that I came here, me, on my own, without help from a divine being. . . . I want to say God didn't take me away, you gave me up." (112)
A couple of other notes, not so related to adoption. Pool, and African woman who grew up in a white family in a majority white culture, has some interesting insights into race and feminism. The first time she heads out on the street in Asmara, the Eritrean capital, the attitude of the people surprises her. "Everyone looks so comfortable, so relaxed, walking around as if they own the place. So this is what black people look like when they are not having to constantly look over their shoulder, or justify their presence." (63) She relishes the times when people take her for a native Eritrean, not standing out the way she does at home at London. Those of us white families who have adopted children of other races should bear in mind the potential alienation and isolation they might feel in majority white culture. Her experience here reminds us that spending time among people of his or her own race can provide a huge boost in confidence and acceptance of his or her identity.
Upon returning home, the disparity of wealth between the first and third worlds bothers Pool, just as it does many Westerners who visit developing countries. Only with her, it is much more personal. "It is one thing to spend a fortune on shoes and bags without a second thought; it is quite another to do so when you know your sister and her family would not survive without food aid. I found it hard enough to read or see reports of drought, potential famine, and possible war before I went to Eritrea, so what will it be like now that I can put names and faces to the statistics?" (265)
Despite some of the negative comments about adoption and Pool's blatant atheism (and the self-centered, materialistic, libertine attitudes that result), My Fathers' Daughter gives wonderful insight into the struggles, questions, and insecurities of the international and/or transracial adoptee. Her colorful storytelling, honest emotional revelations, and probing self-reflection make this a highly recommended read.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Protect and Defend
The most succinct way for me to describe the Vince Flynn's Mitch Rapp series is this: if you like the TV show 24, you will love Mitch Rapp. Rapp works for the CIA, but in reality he is the United States's best weapon against terrorism. Like Jack Bauer, he has little patience for bureaucracy and indecision, and is willing to push the limits of laws and propriety to see that justice is done.
Protect and Defend is the eighth book in the series. The tenth book, Pursuit of Honor currently sits on the NYT bestseller list. (I haven't read that one yet.) I listened to #9, Extreme Measures, on CD; I had never heard of Flynn but saw it on the shelf at the library. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and now I have read or listened to 1-8 in the series in order. Each stands independently, but I enjoyed seeing the characters and relationships develop over the course of the series. Again, the similarities to 24 are striking. Any of these novels would make a great season of 24. In fact, imdb.com lists Vince Flynn as a consultant on a few episodes of 24. (I just discovered that it's also saying a movie version of Protect and Defend is in development!)
Protect and Defend finds Iran working secretly on a nuclear weapons program. An Israeli spy, who has been embedded for years at the facility, pulls off a brilliant piece of sabotage, completely destroying it. Of course, Iran blames the US and begins throwing around accusations. They even sink one of their own ships and try to pin it on the US to drum up international sympathy. Rapp's boss and close friend, CIA director Irene Kennedy, arranges a clandestine meeting in Iraq with her Iranian counterpart, hoping they can work out a means to defuse the situation. Unfortunately for Irene, too many people knew about the meeting, and they use it to set up her abduction. Rapp, not content to let diplomacy get her back, leads a rescue effort that. . . . Well, I don't want to give too much away!
Flynn pulls no punches--politically correct he is not! I know as much about real life in the CIA and international espionage as I do about fixing my daughter's hair--that is, nothing! But Flynn writes convicingly, with lots of realism and detail. I guess these books would not be considered great works literature, destined to be included in the next version of Harvard Classics, but Flynn tells a great story, keeping the reader up at night eagerly turning the pages and waiting impatiently for the next book to be published. Read and enjoy!
Protect and Defend is the eighth book in the series. The tenth book, Pursuit of Honor currently sits on the NYT bestseller list. (I haven't read that one yet.) I listened to #9, Extreme Measures, on CD; I had never heard of Flynn but saw it on the shelf at the library. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and now I have read or listened to 1-8 in the series in order. Each stands independently, but I enjoyed seeing the characters and relationships develop over the course of the series. Again, the similarities to 24 are striking. Any of these novels would make a great season of 24. In fact, imdb.com lists Vince Flynn as a consultant on a few episodes of 24. (I just discovered that it's also saying a movie version of Protect and Defend is in development!)
Protect and Defend finds Iran working secretly on a nuclear weapons program. An Israeli spy, who has been embedded for years at the facility, pulls off a brilliant piece of sabotage, completely destroying it. Of course, Iran blames the US and begins throwing around accusations. They even sink one of their own ships and try to pin it on the US to drum up international sympathy. Rapp's boss and close friend, CIA director Irene Kennedy, arranges a clandestine meeting in Iraq with her Iranian counterpart, hoping they can work out a means to defuse the situation. Unfortunately for Irene, too many people knew about the meeting, and they use it to set up her abduction. Rapp, not content to let diplomacy get her back, leads a rescue effort that. . . . Well, I don't want to give too much away!
Flynn pulls no punches--politically correct he is not! I know as much about real life in the CIA and international espionage as I do about fixing my daughter's hair--that is, nothing! But Flynn writes convicingly, with lots of realism and detail. I guess these books would not be considered great works literature, destined to be included in the next version of Harvard Classics, but Flynn tells a great story, keeping the reader up at night eagerly turning the pages and waiting impatiently for the next book to be published. Read and enjoy!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Moll Flanders
Daniel Defoe's Moll Flanders
is one of those books the title of which I have heard for years, but didn't know anything about. Defoe most famously wrote Robinson Crusoe
, considered to be the first novel in the English language. I don't guess I've ever read that one, either, but I have a feeling it would read about like Moll Flanders, a first person narrative without much story, just a very long string of events.Moll certainly did not lead an ordinary life, nor was her life an easy one. She was dealt a sorry hand, having been born to a criminal in prison. Her mother was subsequently deported to that prison colony called America, and Moll goes to live with a wealthy family as a servant. So far, so good. A rough start, but an opportunity to benefit from being in a wealthy household. As she serves the family, she sits in on French lessons, dancing lessons, music lessons, picking it all up as well as the children of the household. Favored by the family, she could have let them lead her into a pretty respectable life. In fact, one of the sons falls in love with her and wants to marry her. Problem is, she has already been "acting as if married" with another brother. Thus begins her series of bad choices on bad choices that she follows through her life. For the 21st century reader (or viewer of soap operas) there's nothing particularly new here. I kept looking for some good plot development or moral lessons, but didn't find it. I want to wish her a good life, but she kept exacerbating her situation.
If you want to get a picture of life in England in the early 18th century, and don't mind all the soap opera drama, this will satisfy you. It presents detailed descriptions of domestic life and class relations during that time. You might also find some historical insights, for instance the use of Spanish gold as currency in colonial America. (Shortly after I read this, I listened to a podcast about U.S. monetary policy. The speaker referenced the use of different currencies in colonial times and the early U.S., including Spanish coinage.)
All in all, dull, dull, dull. There have been several movies made of Moll Flanders. Maybe one of them extracted a core of plot and made it more interesting. (Wow. That makes me sound really shallow. Guilty.)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Still reading
I started this blog over 2 years ago, wrote about a few books, then quit. I've read lots of books since then. I may not have a lot to say, but I'll start saying something here, again. Like I wrote in my first post, my interests range pretty widely, so there's no telling what will end up here. I am a Christian, a dad, a libertarian, a former teacher, a financial professional, a seminary graduate, and a lover of a good story. Much of what I read is somehow connected to one or more of those categories, but not necessarily. Enjoy!
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