Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

So, I was soooo not the girl following tradition when it came to our wedding two months ago, but it seems my book choices for this summer have followed the pattern Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue. Go figure! Here is what I've been reading this summer:

Something Old...Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

I read Things Fall Apart when I was a sophomore at New York University (well over a decade ago, gasp) in my African and African American Literature Class. This is a classic book, masterfully written by Chinua Achebe in 1959. Last week, my cousin came to visit and picked up off the shelf. We both recalled enjoying the book, but I could not, for the life of me, remember what it was about. So yesterday, as I prepared to go get my wig tightened up, I tossed it in my bag. Nothing like a stint under the dryer to get started on a good book.

I finished the book this morning. The language was beautifully poetic. Achebe wrote, "The night was impenetrably dark. The moon had been rising later and later every night until now it was only seen at dawn. An whenever the moon forsook the evening and rose at cock-crow the nights were as black as charcoal."

Onkonkwo's life was beautifully tragic. He rose from nothing, made something of himself, and was so intent to be a man of power and valor that, I believe, he slowly drove himself back into the nothingness. There were times when I wanted him to emerge on top. There were times when I was so disgusted by his lack of balance, his extreme patriarchal stance, and his disregard for all things feminine that I wanted him to be humbled. Still, his end was not one that I wished for. It was simply sad.

At the end of the book my spirit was not at rest. My unrest came with reading about the negative impact of Christian mission work in Nigeria. I was not troubled by the depiction, for I know that it is true. (I had a similar kind of rest sitting through my Church History 2 class when we looked at the photographic images sent to America by missionaries of the Africans that they had "Christianized" which was really code-speak for civilized/westernized/whitened.) I was more troubled—as I always am—at the way that the gospel as been used like grenades and the way that Christianity has torn people apart.

Something New... A Taste of Honey by Jabari Asim

I know I'm usually really deep, but the truth is, I chose this book because I liked the title and the cover. In this instance my superficiality paid off. This collection of related short stories made me laugh, cry, get angry, and think on the goodness of God and the power of love.

As it is a newer book (released March 2010), I don't want to give away to much. That said, I am posting an excerpt from the official press release: The narratives are set in the imaginary Midwestern town of South Gateway, where second-generation offspring of the African Americans involved in the Great Migration have pieced together a thriving if uneasy existence. Centered on the lives of a diverse cast of well drawn characters, the stories evoke a uniquely American epoch; a time and a place that is vividly rendered here with the twin peaks of horror and nostalgia. With police brutality on the rise, the civil rights movement gaining momentum, and wars raging at home and abroad, the community Jabari Asim has conjured stands on edge. Against this backdrop, the people in each story also struggle with everyday grievances such as love, child-rearing, adolescence, and domestic abuse. Each vignette is achingly chronicled and creates a piercing portrait of humanity.

Something Borrowed... Women, Food, and God by Geneen Roth

This one wasn't really borrowed, but it did come highly recommended from my girls Kem, Kimberly, and Yvette. It is also one of Oprah's faves. So I picked it up, read it, and I must admit, I wasn't impressed.

As one who has spent more money than I dare admit in the weight loss industry (gym memberships, home equipment, DVD's, books, etc.), I felt like I got got. As I read the book I couldn't help but think that all of the women at the retreats Roth held were white. Not that I have anything against white women, but I think that when folks write books and they use a general term (women) that they should consider a multiplicity of ethnicities and cultures and the various ways in which food operates in various cultures. Plus, the God piece was too airy for me. There was not enough foundation for me.

Something Blue...The Blue Notebook by James A. Levine

Caution: Do not read this book if you are premenstrual. The tears just flowed and flowed and flowed and I was in my good week!

I devoured this book. It wasn't a feel good book at all, but it was a think good book. It made me think about children, child prostitution, parental responsibility, poverty, globalization, patriarchy, and the ways in which they all work together. The main character, Batuk, was a girl after my own heart. I think it was because she was a writer. It is amazing the cathartic nature of writing and the way in which creativity can keep someone alive in dire circumstances.

On another note, the book is set in India. Batuk is from a rural Indian village, but most of the book is set in Mumbai. My husband and I live in a heavily populated Indian community. When I am out, I look for Batuk in the faces of the girls and woman I encounter. It seems silly, I know. But I am sure that I will see her one day.

Some Women Have a Thing for Shoes pt. 2...

The title of this post is slightly deceiving. For context, click here.

I have been single for almost three years, but I have to admit that I don't always sleep alone. Lest you think Minister Donna Olivia has been sleeping around, rest assured. The only thing getting any play from me these days are my books...

I don't just sleep with my books. I am a tactile person, so naturally, I have a very sensual relationship with my books. I like to touch them, hold them, trace my fingers gently across the pages. When we aren't hearing each other, sometimes I place the open book on my head to see if I can hear it more clearly. When we really aren't getting along, I put it on the desk and give it the silent treatment. I take my books out to eat. I take them for quiet time in the park. I take them to the beach. I cannot say it enough, I love my books...

That said, I'm having a bit of an internal dialogue—okay, fight—about whether this digital girl can handle the latest electronic book readers like Kindle and Nook. As a Mac lover since Mr. Bartels computer class in the summer after seventh grade, I am super excited about Apple's iPad (though I'll be more excited when the second generation, with some kinks worked out, hits stores). I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the information I get from books—the scholarly depths I've plunged into, the creative hills I've climbed—but part of the appeal of the book is also being with it and holding it. Can I trace my fingers across an iPad? Can I sleep with an iPad? Do I even want to?

There is more to it...I love writing in the margins of my books, especially commenting on margin notes when I get used books. I love discovering and rediscovering some wisdom I had the first time I read a book as evidenced in my scribbles and underlines and highlights. I love the weight of books, the success that one feels with each turn of the page, the ability to read the conclusion to make sure you understand the middle, dog earring pages...you get the picture.

But there is the convenience of it all. And there is the issue of money I'll be saving on future visits to the chiropractor from not lugging around a sack of books. But still, I don't know. I mean, I still haven't joined the Blackberry/Palm/Treo craze. Every July I go to Staples and buy a pretty date book where I write down, in pencil, all of my appointments, events, and assignments. A scrolling through a virtual bookshelf doesn't appeal to me as much as walking up to the book cases in my room and fingering across book spines until I've found what I needed.

I don't know. But this I am sure of...if I don't get the iPad, I can always buy some new shoes!

Some Women Have a Thing for Shoes...

Yesterday, as I was doing something in my room, I looked around and started thinking about the fact that in the next couple of months I would have to pack up. And then it dawned on me. I probably have close to 200 more books in my library than I had when I started at Drew. I came here with quite a collection to begin with.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...I blame my parents. Let me rephrase that, I thank my parents. I have always had books in my life. We kept the latest dictionary and encyclopedia in hour home. There were volumes on science and sports and child development. I had my own Value Tales series and Disney Encyclopedia. My favorites were the stories of Harriet Tubman, Ralph Bunche, and Marie Curie.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Last week, I finished the office makeover of preaching professor par excellence Rev. Dr. Gary V. Simpson. Part of making over his office included organizing his bookshelf. Well, he was so pleased when he saw his office for the first time that he gave me every book on his shelf that he had duplicates of. There were books by Teresa Fry Brown, Samuel Proctor, Ronald Allen, Walter Brueggemann, and Henry Mitchell. I could hardly contain my excitement!

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Why so many books? Well, you never know when you are going to need them. I have used books from my undergraduate studies in papers for my work here at Drew. All of my art books from Howard have been used repeatedly, both by me and by classmates who needed to support their ideas with visual work. Then there are books that I bought either because I liked the title or the author, that I never got around to reading, that I've been able to pick up, read, and use to support my work. There are books that I've read over and over and over again like Ntozake Shange's Lilliane and Carlyle Fielding Stewart's Black Spirituality & Black Consciousness: Soul Force, Culture and Freedom in the African-American Experience. Then there are books that make me proud: my bell hooks and Howard Thurman collections. There are books I want to go back to when I finish at Drew: Sisters in the Wilderness by Delores Williams and Creative Exchange by Victor Anderson.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...My thing for books is so deep that, in the midst of hundreds of books, I know when one is missing. A few weeks ago I was in a dry and weary land and needed to reread Renita Weems' Listening For God: A Ministers Journey Through Silence And Doubt and I couldn't find it. I searched and searched and didn't give up. In the midst of my relentless search, I was reminded of the parables of Jesus about the lost coin and lost sheep that are recorded in the Gospel of Luke. Just like God doesn't stop searching for us when we go astray, I did not stop searching for the book. Thanks be to God my roommate had it.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...I am also reminded of the time when I stumbled upon books in the hallway in Seminary Hall (during my first year) and the books in the laundry room (during my second year). They were books that someone had (gasp) thrown away. They were books that I needed for class. On Tuesday, March 4th, 2008 in a blog entitled "Must've Been an Angel or Two", I wrote:

In the midst of working on my World Religions midterm paper, I needed a break. I moved my laptop from my lap, asked a classmate to watch my stuff and preceded to walk towards the vending machine. I took a detour into the ladies room (been drinking lots of water) and then stopped at the “free stuff” table that lives in the basement of Seminary Hall. Usually the table is filled with junk, but today there were books, and lots of them, that I would need for future classes. I grabbed a stack and then walked over to the vending machine for peanuts. On my way back, I passed the table again, met by another classmate who noticed my stack. She surveyed the table and pointed out other books that I would need for future classes that I wasn’t even aware of. No kidding, I saved about $300 in one trip to the vending machine...God is good!

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...And maybe, just maybe, that is why I am sure that when I leave this place that I, too, will write books. It is my prayer that they are books that matter, books that change lives, books that speak to people in ways that the books I have encountered have spoken to me.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Now, don't get me wrong, I like shoes, too!

Change of Tune...

            The tune to which my life plays out has always been do be do be do...  In other words, I am a doer. Anyone who knows me, well or peripherally, knows that I am a doer. I won't go into all of my doing here (my head will start to hurt), but let's just say in the last year I've had seven or eight simultaneous jobs while carrying 15 credits at school. I am a doer. Sometimes I wonder why I do so much. Perhaps it is people pleasing. Perhaps it is restlessness. Perhaps I do not know how to say no. Perhaps it is the way I understand my value as a child of God/human being. Perhaps I need a change of tune.  

            In fact, Dr. Heather Elkins would say that I need to change my tune, so "be-ing" comes before do-ing. Be do be do be... It sounds awkward. It seems out of step. I'll have to learn a new dance, but  apparently, that is the memo that God has been sending me over the last two months. God has been whispering and shouting, in the day and night, through written word and song, in my heart and from the mouths of others that I need to be still and know that he is God (Psalm 46:10). I am fully aware that I am moving into a new season in my life, where being still and knowing God is the order of the day. It is a new thing for me, but I am confident that it is the right thing for me. So, I've pared down my class schedule, my jobs, and my extracurricular activities. I am going into the Fall just be-ing, so I can discern what God would have for me to be do-ing.

            Here is where God's wicked sense of humor comes in...Yesterday, my roommate and I were running errands. On our way back into our apartment, we stopped in the foyer at a box of books. Being the book junkie that I am, I had already scavenged the box for good finds. (one such find was Loving the Body: Black Religious Studies and the Erotic edited by Dr. Anthony Pinn and Dr. Dwight Hopkins.) She wanted to stop and take a peak, so we did. As I looked through again, I noticed a book that I had not seen on my first hunt. I picked it up and chuckled to myself. Thoughts danced in my head: Ok, God, I get it! OK, God, I'm going to slow down. OK, God, you win! OK, God, be-ing, be-ing, be-ing! The book that I held in my hands (that is now in the suitcase I will take with me to Tennessee) is Mediations for Women Who Do Too Much by Anne Wilson Schaef.  

Just in case I did not get it, God sent a message loudly and clearly—a message that I can meditate on 365 days of the year.