O You Pretty Pioneers

Ok so I have a confession to make. I have not read the last two book club books. By the time I was able to get The Children's Hospital from MCPL I didn't have time to read it. And there are like 5 holds on The White Tiger. So instead, I grabbed one of the few books of mine that is not yet in a box and I hadn't read before. It was O Pioneers! by Willa Cather.

And let me tell you something, Willa Cather is a badass. That book is awesome. The prose is super tight and descriptive, like Steinbeck or Hemingway. But the scope of the narrative is also vast, like a big Russian novel. So when you combine the two, you get this sweeping panorama of frontier life without the plodding, drawn-out plot. It's awesome. I'm not going into too much detail because I'm the only one that read the thing, but suffice to say that I highly recommend it.

Now I have to go back and read My Antonia, which I hated in high school. I hated lots of stuff in high school that turned out to be cool, and I expect this to be one of the bigger ones.

THE NEXT BOOK

Since we don't yet have a book for this month, I'm taking it upon myself to choose the next book as:

The White Tiger: A Novel
By Aravind Adiga

This book is about an Indian taxi driver who, embroiled in class struggles, commits murder. It is the debut novel for this Indian author, and has apparently won the Booker Prize (whatever that means). Lets hope the protagonist is in fact the ultimate bad ass.

I have such violent dreams, and yet they are never nightmares

I thought The Children’s Hospital was fantastic, and definitely one of the best books I’ve read all year.

I was about to lavish praise on Chris Adrian for his vivid descriptions of life at the hospital and the various medical procedures/conditions, but wikipedia tells me he has an M.D. and has been specializing for his residency in pediatric hematology/oncology residency in San Francisco. So I guess he didn’t have to do much research…

This book in general had a very dream-like quality to me, and I felt myself stopping at several points and seriously wondering if it was going to have one of those terrible Wizard of Oz/Alice in Wonderland endings where Jemma wakes up and finds out it was all a dream, and she had just fallen asleep during a particularly intense night of her medical training. In that sense, it does seem like the entire novel can be interpreted as some kind of strange, anxious dream of Jemma’s, told from different perspectives of characters inside her dream. Jemma is clearly presented as a dreamer in general, both in the bits from her childhood and as an adult – exemplified by the weird interaction with the nun at catholic school, who catches her daydreaming and tells her daydreamers will end up in Purgatory for their sins. Anyway, I can definitely see what unfolds after the flood as having explicit connections with Jemma’s past or “present” – manifested as either events or people in the hospital. For instance, Jemma’s former close relationship with her protective brother (and the pact they made never to marry) causes her anxiety about intensifying her relationship with Rob – this seems to manifest in her dream as her brother, in angel form – jealously pushing away those to which she becomes close. Or Jemma’s magical healing powers may be a response to her perceived helplessness to fix all of the really sick children she encounters in the hospital. I realize these are two obvious examples, but its what came to mind.

I’d have to agree with Mr. Wertz’s point about the blanket of dread that hangs over this book; I definitely at no point could shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. I certainly don’t think it ruined the book for me, in fact it seemed to make me appreciate the loving, positive moments in this book more (perhaps because they were so fleeting).

I absolutely loved the speech that Vivian gives right before she sort of goes nuts and confines herself to the upper floor. For some reason, it struck me as exactly how I’ve been feeling lately about humanity – biding our time on an inevitable trip to our individual and collective deaths while distracting ourselves with Twitter and reality TV. Although Vivian’s speech is crude, what I liked about her monologue (straight, desperate, and precisely to the point) is what I hate about similar philosophical statements in books like Atlas Shrugged (rambling, preachy, and vague). I don’t think its far-fetched to compare humans on this Earth to a bunch of people on a floating-hospital – we’re both seemingly killing time with more and more elaborate dumb shit, but can’t seem to identify what we should be doing that’s “better”.