Mara
The older I get, the less I believe in respecting elders just because they're old. The aged have really pushed their agenda of forced status based on smoke and mirrors for a long time, and frankly, I'm over it. Whenever I pass the age of someone I looked up to or got advice from (especially if it was a sort of “you'll understand when you're older, poppet” format) I realize that I don't know anything yet, and neither did they, it was all hollow bravado. That said, this book was refreshing, because it didn't use dumping on younger people to build up the old. It just talked about living well and doing what you can for as long as you can. Recommended for all ages.
In general I find apocalypse scenarios in media to be wildly boring and unimaginative. This story addressed some (but certainly not all) of the standard tropes of the genre that make it feel unrealistic and dull to me. I appreciated that it went far enough into the future to be outside the panic of a pivotal moment and into the time when the “new” reality has settled in, without going full Walking Dead with making that panic level of existence last forever. The narrative managed the jumping back and forth in time well. I found most of the “twists” to be predictable but I don't usually read specifically for gotcha moments so that's fine with me.
I kept this on as mindless background noise far longer than I paid attention to it, so I give it some credit for that. But I kept zoning out and realizing I hadn't been listening for probably whole chapters, and when I realized I didn't care enough to go back and restart those, it was time to turn it off.
My ability to read about the trials of young white men out to find themselves seems to hover close to zero these days. Full disclosure, this review is based on only a portion of the book, I could not finish it. It does contain some beautiful descriptions of the desert, and if someone felt like creating an edited version that is only those parts I think it would be a worthwhile read. Unfortunately they're spread out between sections of eye rolling bildungsroman and rants against such offenders as old people, young people, women who are prostitutes, women who are not prostitutes, gardeners, and Native Americans. No thanks.
It's not often that I don't finish a book, I am stubborn enough to power through even mediocre works. But I did not finish this. It's just a pile of disjointed self important self pitying artist wank. The concept of seeing one's self and life through the lens of famous (or forgotten, less famous than they should be) people of the past is fine enough but that does not come across here at all, it reads more as wishing to be these people while doing nothing of import. This was sold to me as some sort of feminist manifesto, championing the forgotten women overshadowed by men or just ignored because of their gender, bringing their stories forward and of finding connection with them, but unless it starts to do so very late in the book that is not what is going on. It is also frustrating that this reads as a hectic jottings of a scattered person writing notes for themselves without ever editing for comprehension or cohesion, so you can't even follow who is being referenced half the time - I guess if you already had an encyclopedic knowledge of literary wives listed by only their first names without mention of the more famous husband's name and only contextualized by some obscure factoid about their life, it might be easier.
This book is arranged in to three parts - a section on Hopi myths and stories, another on rituals and feast days, and a last portion covers the historical record since Europeans came to the southwest. They're all fascinating, but the first two take a bit more focus to keep straight and follow the threads of, at least as someone who isn't steeped in the culture and customs. The book is slightly dated, I would like to read an updated version that continues the historical narrative and gives more context and explanation to the myths and customs. It's remarkable for its day and still readable today, ie not just a pile of racism.
I wanted to like this book, and liked the parts of it that got to the point - the actual story of Julia Staab and the rest of her family, even the exploration of her ghost as a phenomenon. But that was not very much of the book, most of it was wild speculation that felt based on absolutely nothing, and long sections talking to mediums which led nowhere. The writing is atrocious.
My main wish for this book would be for it to be more overt with the supernatural elements, and earlier on. They were quite subtle until near the end, and the parts that were just following the main characters through their lives dragged a bit at times. I enjoyed the way the narrative was laid out, it took some time to parse points of view but when it came clear whose perspective we were following when, the earlier vagueness paid off.
Just to get it out of the way at the beginning: I found the way this was written to be dreadful, trying too hard to be hip and conversational, which just came off as strained. The tone would drift in to more neutral territory some of the time and when it did, it was great.
This book in an insightful analysis of a lot of data and anecdata from the author's work. I think it's a useful way to frame the relationship to one's own body in a healthy, productive manner. Even the parts that weren't exactly new information for me were framed in ways I hadn't necessarily thought of. There is a lot of science grounding this but also a lot of reminders that the cultural messages that make us second guess our bodies for doing completely innocuous things or looking the way a body looks are not worth listening to, we're basically all normal and fine.