The Elements of Style

Family tradition dictates that all young women receive a copy of Pride and Prejudice for their sixteenth birthday. I remember receiving my own copy: a thick, illustrated, hardcover edition. I still have it on the bookshelf in my old room, although when I revisit it I prefer the paperback version. I've never been able to read from hardcovers. I'm too concerned about the binding to really crack it open.

Some distant ancestor (or not so distant-- I'm pretty sure my great-grandmother started the trend) decided that Pride and Prejudice was a life-changing book and an important gift for 16-year-old girls.

I loved Pride and Prejudice and it was life-changing. My encounters with Jane Austen mark my shift from pure fantasy to capital-l Literature. I still love a good fantasy novel, don't get my wrong, but Austen's works convinced me to branch out a bit.

Pride and Prejudice is not the only book to have changed my life. Another book, one without the popular appeal of an Austen novel, had an equally strong influence on me: The Elements of Style.

When I first read The Elements of Style, I had a rare spiritual moment. I could hear the angels singing down on me as I followed Mr. White on his grammatical and stylistic journey.

"But, P," you might rightfully ask, "you don't follow all the style rules outlined in the book!" Yeah, okay, get off my back. I love the book, but I don't consult it before every single post! Here's the thing, though: this slim volume can really teach you how to write. If you follow its instructions, your writing will improve. And given its contents, it's surprisingly easy to read.

If I have children, I'll give them a copy of Pride and Prejudice for their sixteenth birthday. But I'll give them The Elements of Style as soon as they enter high school.

Love letters

While doing some research for a personal project, I stumbled across the story of Emma Hauck, a woman with Schizophrenia who lived in Heidelberg, Germany at the beginning of the 20th century.

Letters of Note writes that she began writing letters to her husband, supplicating him to visit her. The letters contain pages and pages of "Sweetheart come" and just "come." I found these letters tremendously sad. I imagine her being so lonely and scared, with those letters as her only hope, and yet as Letters of Note says, they were never sent. How scary it must have been to find herself losing control of her senses, far from the people she loved.

Making friends

I'm in Europe right now, and my dad's cousin called me the other day to inform me that, while in town, she had run into a group of young Canadian men.

She told me more about it when we met up for drinks later that day.

"I heard them talking in English, and they mentioned Canada, so I went up to them and told them about how my American cousin was visiting. You should meet up with them! They were so friendly, and they were absolutely thrilled when I mentioned you. They really want to meet you. They're very excited to talk to you." She dug around in her purse. "They wrote their numbers down on a piece of paper-- here it is." She pulled out a flier and handed it to me. At the bottom, someone had scrawled a name and phone number.

It was a Mormon recruitment flier. I think I know now why those gentlemen were so eager to meet me...

Note: I do not mean any disrespect to Mormons. I only find it amusing that my cousin thought that these random guys she met were driven by a sincere interest in meeting me.

Got Milk?

Anyone who knows me realizes I'm a bit of a dairy nut. My lactose intolerant friend and I joke about how between her lactose intolerance and my vegetarianism and dairy fanaticism, we'll never find a place we can both go out to eat. Another friend of mine posted on facebook this Valentine's Day suggesting that, instead of flowers, people buy a wheel of cheese for that special someone. That's a proposition I can get behind! I promptly showed the post to my significant other.

But dairy is a pleasure that should be enjoyed in small quantities. On days when I have a glass of milk in the morning, I will forgo cheese-based meals for lunch. And on days when I break out the mac 'n' cheese, I'll pass on yogurt for dessert. I was led to believe that this was the way to go. Now, though, I've learned that perhaps I can indulge my dairy habits a little more. NPR has an article on the possibility that whole milk may actually keep people thinner.

A few caveats before guzzling a gallon of whole milk:
-The first study only observed the habits of men. Women may not be in the clear.
-We don't yet have an explanation for the results. Drinking whole milk may not directly cause weight loss/weight retention.
-As the author points out, there are other reasons than weight gain to avoid high-fat dairy products, such as cholesterol.

So, in honor of this discovery, what are your favorite dairy-based recipes?

Book Review: November - Georges Simenon

In this moody novel, Laure, a young woman living at home with her parents, her brother, and their maid Manuela, spends her time observing the people around her. She alone of all her family members holds all the pieces of the puzzle: her mother’s alcoholism, her brother’s relationship with Manuela, and her father’s lust for his son’s lover. Laure, meanwhile, has her own secrets. Although she might have settled down by marrying a man closer to her own age, she decided instead to pursue a hopeless relationship with an older man, one of the doctors she works with at the local hospital. When Manuela disappears, Laure becomes obsessed with learning what happened. In doing so, she begins to envision her life’s trajectory.

More than the characters, it is the setting that sticks with you. Laure's house is large and its inhabitants isolated-- but there is no real sense of privacy. Laure, from her room, can hear every movement, and she knows her mother can do the same. Most of the family's stilted interactions occur at the dining room table. Lies pervade every word, from the collective denial of Laure's mother's alcoholism to Laure's own deception about her affair. Only Manuela brings a respite from the family's bizarre inter-alienation. Laure describes her singing and her constantly cheerful temperament. It is little wonder, Simenon suggests, that Laure's brother and father both gravitate toward her. But Laure vacillates between distaste and sympathy. The ending feels at once hopeless and hopeful.

 I doubt whether, years from now, I will remember the details of the scattered plot. But I will remember the rain pouring down. I will remember the big, empty house. I will remember November.