“Emusoi” by Kasia P.

A few days ago I met Kasia P., author “Dogodogo”, at her book launch for her newest book “Emusoi”. Her books contain true stories of Tanzanian children who struggle for access to clean water and education. These books are meant as readers for African as well as First-World children in order to teach literacy and raise awareness. It was a characteristically wet, rainy and cold English evening. Kasia put us all in check when she opened the event by saying, “I was going to be very English and apologize for the rainy weather today, but I can’t do that because Tanzania hasn’t had rain for three years.” Her words and her works remind us that all too often we take simple things like rain and access to education for granted.

“The Kite Runner”

I re-read KH’s “The Kite Runner” for our May book club meeting. My focus on the plot shifted from the novel’s anti-hero Amir (with friends like that, who needs enemies?!) to Assef, the novel’s villain. I was struck by his psychological profile, a textbook “sociopath”. We first meet Assef as a childhood bully who has inherited blazing blue eyes from his German mother. His parents fear their own son, a sadist with a keen interest in history’s tyrants and most ruthless dictators. Still, the heavy foreshadowing does not prepare the reader for one of the novel’s biggest surprises, when Assef re-emerges later in the novel as a leader in the Taliban, disguising his non-Afghan heritage by wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. Irony abounds in the scene where Amir begs Assef for Sohrab; Assef describes his active role in ridding Afghanistan of Hazaras as he desperately tries to disguise his own racial impurity.

“Would I Follow Me?”

In my earnest attempt to host a mini-TED conference, I’ve asked the attendees of my book club to take turns giving a presentation and doing a Q&A. Last Friday ZL, one of the co-authors of “Would I Follow Me?,” lead the discussion around leadership in the workplace. She and her NLP colleagues recently published an e-book which they are currently marketing to NLP practioners and the mainstream reading audience. While I agreed that mind training is a useful tool for attaining authenticity in the work place and with family and friends, I disagreed with the book’s vilification of the corporate wok environment. Many of the book’s authors (each author contributed a single chapter), critiqued the corporate workplace as an environment where employees are unable to self-actualise. Even in the current market crisis where job opportunities are few, employees are at risk of being downsized and where power is in the hands of management versus the employee, I disagreed with the writers’ treatment of corporate work. Large organisations create job and are necessary for a democratic and capitalistic society to function healthily.

Osho’s “The Rebel”

All my one-on-one discussions with Mandy somehow come back to the Osho resort in Pune, “my home” as she gleefully describes it. I asked Mandy to lead us in a discussion of excerpts from Osho’s “The Rebel” which we then concluded with a group meditation typical at the Pune resort. Osho’s “The Rebel” provides an illuminating discussion of the differences between the rebel and the non-conformist and makes a compelling framework for why governments might promote the ideal of the nuclear family unit as a tool to keep would-be rebels from taking risks. Mandy concluded the talk by describing the Osho resort and leading us in a dynamic meditation. By the end of the book talk, CC and I were ready to fly to Pune that very night. http://www.osho.com/index.cfm

NLP with Leo

Leo from Futuremind was the first guest speaker at my book club:  for our February meeting, we discussed “Brilliant NLP” (Neuro Linguistic Programming). CC and I agreed with Leo’s suggestion that we read an introductory primer on NLP; however, the introductory nature of the book was one of the many reasons why his talk was so valuable for our discussion. One of the youngest NLP practioners in London when he first started, LL coaches corporate executives to fulfil their potential and perform their best whether in the boardroom or meeting with clients by accessing and
chaneling emotions, altering body language and adjusting the tone of one’s voice, and re-programming one’s reactions to stimuli to promote positivity rather than negativity in one’s life. Soon after meeting LL shortly after moving to London, I told him “every time I see you, you’re surrounded by people”.  I’ve had the benefit of speaking with LL about his work for years now. His work promotes honesty, inquiry and authenticity while demanding the best from us which explains  why he’s he attracts people like bees to honey.
http://www.futureminded.co.uk/

Alain De Botton

Last summer, in the Malpensa airport’s sole bookstore, I picked up a copy of “Status Anxiety” (2004), the only ADB book on offer.  I had read reviews of the author’s “The Architecture of Happiness” (2006) which was on my Amazon Wish List, but I knew little of the author and his previous works. Browsing the book’s opening pages, I learned that ADB is a living Swiss-born philosopher educated at Cambridge and Harvard who ponders the psychic conundrums of modern life in the western, developed world. ADB’s books, as I later found after reading four them in quick succession, draw heavily from the experience of living in the world’s most competitive, capitalism- and consumer-driven cities in the world: New York, London and Paris, with scattered references to Berlin, Hong Kong, and Tokyo.  City life plays a prominent role in these texts which examine and hypothesize the frenzied tensions which shoot like sharp, poison-dipped arrows at the city dweller’s mind.

ADB’s books posit that urban life—cities’ architectural evolution, fashion trends, and technological advances—play a significant role in the shaping of the modern psyche. He argues that the significance of the environment in which we live cannot be overstated when getting to the core of understanding life’s modern dilemmas. However, what differentiates ADB’s books from his early-twentieth-century philosophical predecessor Thorstein Veblen (whose “Conspicuous Consumption” ranks as one of my all-time favourites) is that ADB proposes antidotes to life’s modern-day psychic challenges.  All his texts provide an easily-accessible historical rendering of the problem at hand interspersed with images (photographs, advertisements, cartoons, etc.) to illustrate and provide “evidence” of the tensions at play.  In addition to city life, images play a significant role in directing sub-conscious messaging to city dwellers.

“Status Anxiety” is an engaging introduction to ADB’s work.  In it, ADB provides a fun and interesting-to-read history of the development of the luxury goods market, a direct consequence of the Industrial Revolution’s ability to manufacture goods quickly and the cross-country transport system (trains).  Interwoven in his historical discussion is exposition of the individual’s central role in society and how society’s response to the individual shapes his/her psyche. A cultural shift occurs with mass production whereby individuals’ talents and skills are no longer what define him or her; rather, it is what he or she owns. However, ADB suggests that philosophy, art, political engagement, religion and the ability to question authority, that which cannot be replicated by machinery, are the solutions among which humans can choose to combat insecurities inspired by a consumption-driven society.

Less engaging but still insightful is ADB’s “The Art of Travel” (2002), an exposition on why we travel and how to get the most out of travel. Much of the book’s discussion is also applicable to looking at and understanding art. ADB differentiates looking from noticing, seeing from possessing. Through drawing or writing about what we witness when we travel, by better understanding the construction of the place that surrounds us, we benefit more from new scenery. Humility, too, is crucial in extracting what’s unique about a travel destination.

“The Architecture of Happiness” argues that the seemingly bourgeois focus on home furnishings and the construction of one’s house are essential in the pursuit of happiness rather than merely a luxury for the wealthy to enjoy. Without referring to Malcolm G.s’ “broken-glass” theory, ADB explores the significance of design and what design means. Much like a literary critic might prepare a “close reading” of a novel, ADB interprets various landscapes and architectural styles (colonials to ranches, Tudors to McMansions). He discusses lighting, roofing, and what might seem like other tedious architectural details in order to highlight that where one lives effects how one lives. Ultimately, while we may never meet the ideals to which our homes aspire, we are sure to come close to reaching them if we these values inspire the surroundings in which we live.

Perhaps the easiest and most fun to read of ADB’s books is “The Consolations of Philosophy” (2000), a discussion of how the western canon’s greatest philosophers, the way they lived and their works, position them as role models for living in the modern world. The most interesting aspects of Socrates, Epicurus, Seneca, Montaigne, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche’s lives are described in detail and major works are presented in an accessible fashion in order to enlighten readers about how some of the greatest minds grappled philosophically with political and emotional hurdles.

In a world where religion is increasingly discredited for having the answers and instead ascribed as the central reason for genocide, war and terrorism, an alternative form of faith which emphasizes morality, benevolence, peace, and community while directing our attention beyond the consumerism, isolation and individualism, is much needed. ADB’s larger project, to provide a secular, academically-rigorous and practical way of living simply and more fully while honing one’s ability to critique the world around him/her, may be the beginning of a secular movement towards a new morality grounded in critical thinking and philosophical insight. To learn more about ADB and his work, see his website: http://www.alaindebotton.com/

“You are what you read” (2008).

Here are this year’s greatest hits:

1. D. Coleman’s Emotional Intelligence

2. K. Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day

3. D. Reid’s The Tao of Health, Sex, and Longevity

4. D. Remnick’s The New Gilded Age

5. LVDP’s Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me

“Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me”

An avid reader of the Saturday Financial Times, I was immediately intrigued when I picked up Lucia Van Der Post’s, the creator of “How to Spend It”, Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me: Lessons in Grace and Elegance. Criticisms of the book include the luxury-brand name dropping that litters the its pages like dead petals from an aged bridal bouquet, and the emphasis on consumerism in order to express oneself through style, home fashion, gift giving and travel. However, these are easy critiques of a guide book that every woman, from those still attending pep rallies at the start of the football season to ones who have long settled into menopause, will benefit from reading.

Pearls of wisdom abound the book like balls from a tennis ball machine. Concepts such as style is a form of self expression; guests who dress down “show a lack of respect” for their host; “money is… essential for self-respect”; “to be totally dependent on a man for money limits one’s freedom, no matter how kindly and generous the man”; work provides a “sense of purpose, companionship and continually expanding horizons” reinforce the lessons we learn from our own mothers, role models, or best friends.

The best advice (and deciding what is the “best” is in itself a feat considering I’ve dog-eared what seems like every other page, underlined whole passages, scribbled notes in countless margins and read multiple passages aloud to my husband) includes: “How to Wear Black” (focus on skin care so you glow, accessorize colorfully), how to pack for a city break (denim, cute jackets, boots), detoxification (the 24-hour water fast followed by eating fruits and veggies), love (maybe a 50/50 division of labour in the home is not conducive to a happy marriage), “On Being a Grandmother” (experiences you can share with your grandkids), and “Dinner Parties” (wholesome, delicious, hoity-toity yet easy party food to serve guests). The least value-added chapter is “Perfect Presents” which reads more as an edition of “How To Spend It” than a practical guide for gift giving.

However, the best chapter is “Home, Sweet Home”. Clearly, interior design is VDP’s passion, and her interest, expertise and experience show in the confidence with which she writes the longest section in Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me. For any person, man or woman, on the precipice of venturing to design their home (whether it is a one-bedroom flat or a country house), “Home, Sweet Home” is a must-read. Some of VDP’s advice is just common sense: “the best houses take time… build it up, layer upon layer, as your life evolves”. Other advice is more conceptual like when she talks about the power of “overscaling” and grouping home furnishings in multiples of three or five.

VDP’s long writing career and marriage, her years of childrearing and experiences as a grandmother, provide for carefully-threaded wisdom throughout the book. In her “Introduction”, the author emphasizes that no amount of under-eye concealer, facials or designer clothes can mask meanness: “Kindness is elegant. Malice and cruelty are not. Warmth and generosity are elegant. Coldness and jealousy are not… Social snobbery—which is rooted in a belief that material values, such as money and worldly status, are more important than human and moral worth—is not elegant.” With advice like that to prepare the reader what is a brilliant guide to etiquette, it is tragic that reviewers have decided to focus on the book’s mention of luxury name brands; it is like criticizing the blandness of Mozart’s violin concerto titles instead of focusing on the orchestral music’s melody. Lucia Van Der Post’s Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me: Lessons in Grace and Elegance is a guide to etiquette that reminds the reader that as times change, wisdom and good advice rarely does; instead, it’s always best to go back to the basics such as remembering that without kindness, attempts at style have no foundation with which to stand.

“A Million Little Pieces”

For the November meeting of my book club we read and discussed James F.’s “A Million Little Pieces”.  From the novel’s first page, I felt a nagging disbelief that Oprah W. ever actually read the book. A fan of her book club, I was very disappointed that James F. was on a list shared by the likes of William F., Maya A. and Toni M., classic American writers.  There is nothing redemptive about the memoir, nor does the author/anti-hero walk away from the events in his life (near-death drug abuse, AA meetings, rehab, prison) a better or wiser man.

“The Virgin Suicides”

We unanimously agreed that Sofia C.’s movie is better than Jeffrey E.’s novel “The Virgin Suicides”.  Whereas the movie has the traditional ingredients of a beginning, middle and end with a climax to boot, the novel lacks a coherent plot. Instead, the text is a long, artfully-written description of adolescent angst in the mid-western suburbs during the 1970s. The novel is interspersed with literary jewels gleaming bright in the otherwise dark diatribe against the deadening existence of suburban life.  The male author’s insight into what goes on in the heads of adolescent girls is impressive: “We could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment each other… We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together.” For three women who grew up in the American suburbs during the ’70s and ’80s, JE’s novel provides a walk down memory lane in its descriptions of automobiles, style and public school. But in no way did the novel contain the creativity so humorously captured in “Middlesex”.