Clare Dibble

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  • The Way of Integrity: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb for The Way of Integrity: Finding Your Path to Your True Self by Martha Beck:

    In The Way of Integrity, Beck presents a four-stage process that anyone can use to find integrity, and with it, a sense of purpose, emotional healing, and a life free of mental suffering. Much of what plagues us – people pleasing, staying in stale relationships, negative habits – all point to what happens when we are out of touch with what truly makes us feel whole.

    1. “Is it true? (Yes or no. If no, move to question 3.)

    2. Can I absolutely know that it’s true? (Yes or no.)

    3. How do I react, what happens, when I believe that thought? Is it helpful? Who or what would I be without the thought?”

    ― Martha Beck, The Way of Integrity: Finding the Path to Your True Self

    I am charmed by Martha Beck. I think she is kind of crazy as a loon, and brave for being so open for things people have long been thought to experience, but shy away from discussing in public lest they be considered crazy, like mystical experiences. I like that I do not always agree with her and yet I still feel that I learn a lot from her. It’s quite a journey from Mormon preacher’s kid to lesbian self-help guru, including a year of not lying at all, not lying by staying silent, not even white lies. I’m sure it is instructive, but I’m also glad not to live with her.

    I first found her work about a decade ago with Finding Your North Star, where I read the most in depth analysis of Hero’s Journey up to that point in my life. Here, she does something similar with Dante’s Devine Comedy. But also, she just renames or retranslates different parts of his story if she likes a different framing better. It is way more interesting than the literary analysis I remember from high school, especially when she claims Dante might be being literal in places that common wisdom agrees is allegorical.

    This book is categorized as self help and it veers into the mystical, but I never find it preachy. It does suggest things like, “I am meant to live in peace,” but for me the focus on questions rather than answers keeps it from slipping too far into the new age. Every chapter contains a series of questions you can ask yourself, if you want to. Otherwise, you can enjoy the journey down into the depths of the Inferno and back out the other side.

  • The Lost Apothecary: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb of The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner:

    A forgotten history. A secret network of women. A legacy of poison and revenge. Welcome to The Lost Apothecary….

    Hidden in the depths of 18th-century London, a secret apothecary shop caters to an unusual kind of clientele. Women across the city whisper of a mysterious figure named Nella who sells well-disguised poisons to use against the oppressive men in their lives. But the apothecary’s fate is jeopardized when her newest patron, a precocious 12-year-old, makes a fatal mistake, sparking a string of consequences that echo through the centuries.

    Meanwhile in present-day London, aspiring historian Caroline Parcewell spends her tenth wedding anniversary alone, running from her own demons. When she stumbles upon a clue to the unsolved apothecary murders that haunted London 200 years ago, her life collides with the apothecary’s in a stunning twist of fate – and not everyone will survive.

    With crackling suspense, unforgettable characters, and searing insight, The Lost Apothecary is a subversive and intoxicating debut novel of secrets, vengeance, and the remarkable ways women can save each other despite the barrier of time.

    “I realized my grief was richer and more nuanced than what lay on the surface. This was about more than the burden of the apothecary. More than James’ infidelity. Intermingled in the mess was another subtler secret that James and I had hid from each other for years.

    We were happy, yet unfulfilled. It was possible, I understood now, to be both at the same time. I was happy with the stability of working for my family yet unfulfilled by my job and burdened by the things I hadn’t pursued. I was happy with our desire to someday have children yet unfulfilled by my achievements apart from family life. How had I only just learned that happiness and fulfillment were entirely distinct things?”

    ― Sarah Penner, The Lost Apothecary

    If this quote that I selected above strikes you as an searing insight, then this book is for you. You will love it in an unqualified way. I definitely enjoyed this book, but I felt the 18th century part of the story was stronger than the present day half. First the good, because I really enjoyed getting absorbed in this book. The concept is interesting- uncovering women who, centuries ago, helped other women kill the men in her life when they had no other options, when you need some perspective on your modern day marriage. I love London, so I enjoyed the now and then setting. The parallel timeline was well-executed and my relative privilege as a modern day woman was something I appreciated in a fresh way throughout the book.

    Part of me felt critical of modern day timeline. Caroline was disappointed that her history degree did not immediately lead to some glamorous unnamed history job, ungrateful for her steady income in what she now sees as a less-than-exciting position in her family’s business, and seemed unrealistic about the amount of effort and tenacity required to get or keep meaningful life goals like career or marriage. Her cheating husband was weirdly worse. I did love Caroline’s new found librarian friend – my favorite character in the modern timeline and perhaps the book, as she was competent and a good friend right from the beginning.

    I found this book to be a strange mix of reminding us how much progress woman have made in the last couple centuries and women obsessed with whether or not they were or could get pregnant and how procreating was in conflict with progressing careers – perhaps an indicator that we have further to go. Perhaps I was hoping that Caroline would at some point appreciate her relative privilege of options like divorce and starting over, but despite being obsessed with the Apothecary killer mystery, she never seemed to directly contrast her situation with the happenings of the other timeline.

    Still, I love the idea and execution of a story that frames the world that we live in today as a product of thousands of long forgotten interactions, relics of which may be buried under our feet if we have time and reason to look. I loved the pacing of pulling me through two stories at once. And I love London, which felt like one of the characters in this book.

  • Recursion: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb for Recursion by Blake Crouch:

    Reality is broken.

    At first, it looks like a disease. An epidemic that spreads through no known means, driving its victims mad with memories of a life they never lived. But the force that’s sweeping the world is no pathogen. It’s just the first shock wave, unleashed by a stunning discovery – and what’s in jeopardy is not our minds but the very fabric of time itself.

    In New York City, Detective Barry Sutton is closing in on the truth – and in a remote laboratory, neuroscientist Helena Smith is unaware that she alone holds the key to this mystery…and the tools for fighting back.

    Together, Barry and Helena will have to confront their enemy – before they, and the world, are trapped in a loop of ever-growing chaos.

    “In high school, in college, she was encouraged again and again to find her passion-a reason to get out of bed and breathe. In her experience, few people ever found that raison d’etre.

    What teachers and professors never told her was about the dark side of finding your purpose. The part where it consumes you. Where it becomes a destroyer of relationship and happiness. And still, she wouldn’t trade it. This is the only person she knows how to be.”

    ― Blake Crouch, Recursion

    I am narrowing in on really enjoying scifi thriller type books as my go to pleasure read. One reason I really like many time travel books is that the authors have frequently painstakingly laid out the plot and they have to be tight. This is not a book that was written by sitting down and typing out whatever pops into their head as a final draft. It is really difficult to write time loops without the repetition becoming boring, but when it is done well, it can be mind-blowing. As with many books in this genre, you have to let some of the science be fiction, but that is one reason I enjoy reading this type of scifi- it brings science back to its philosophical roots and then makes a small turn from the world we know.

    You might think that the world of fiction does not need another New York police detective with a painful past, but I kind of like that this book starts with a trope and does something interesting with it. I might have been seduced by the female scientist that was absent at the beginning but took a more and more prominent role as the book went on. I loved the journey, the destination, and the people along the way.

    I do have a few, minor nitpicks. Toward the end, things got kind of crazy, even for me, with the world ending over and over, but I got through that section fast enough that it did not detract from the overall story for me. There were also some characters introduced in the beginning that I thought would be a bigger deal but wound up being side notes. Overall, it was my favorite fiction I have read so far this year and I am so glad it was recognized as a Goodreads Choice winner back in 2019 when it came out.

  • Crying in H-mart: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb of Crying in H Mart: A Memoir by Michelle Zauner

    From the indie rock star of Japanese Breakfast fame, and author of the viral 2018 New Yorker essay that shares the title of this book, an unflinching, powerful memoir about growing up Korean American, losing her mother, and forging her own identity.

    “I remember these things clearly because that was how my mother loved you, not through white lies and constant verbal affirmation, but in subtle observations of what brought you joy, pocketed away to make you feel comforted and cared for without even realizing it.”

    ― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

    To stay true to my format, I picked a favorite quote from this book that I do like. But there was a beloved quote from a different book that kept me company while listening to this book.

    “Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.”

    ― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

    In this book, it is literally true. She is wandering around H Mart, looking for an identity among her descriptions of the brightly labeled packaging. I wonder if this is why this book has such broad appeal beyond the Korean-American population. We use up our decision making and identity forming power on choosing our breakfast cereal or whatever and then we are out of it for things that matter. So when someone from our neighborhood shares that they are now homeless, we wish them love and light in their transition and direct them to the local church or Walmart parking lot instead of offering them a place to stay or taking broader action to fight homelessness in the community. The brightly colored labels reassure us that as long as we are worth marketing to, we matter.

    This book is fantastic to listen to while making dinner, as it has so many beautiful descriptions of food. At some point, while making foods from ethnicities that are not mine. It made me wonder if my appreciation of foods from around the world meant that I might be culturally appropriating my menu, but then I decided that lots of people have spent lots of time finding the most delicious things and to not use that would be throwing out a lot of human effort.

    Thankfully, my mother is still alive. As more of my friends loose their mothers, I am more and more grateful that I don’t relate to this part of the book yet. I continued with the story until her mother died and she and her father randomly went to Vietnam to get over the grief. Then I could not bring myself to read anymore. So many people I know are wading through so much grief while shouldering so many responsibilities, I just lost interest. A trip did not fix that her mother is gone. She cannot buy an identity or a way out of grief. Poor thing.

    I bet the movie will be beautiful, though. Lots of great travel and food imagery (simple pleasures of being alive) along side cathartic processing of grief (deep pain of death) is the best of this book. It is like the balance she talks about in so many of her foods between salty, sweet, sour, and spicy. While writing this, I did also check out one song by Japanese Breakfast. Another thing I can sort of appreciate, but is not exactly to my taste.

  • Seeing stars

    How do I feel when I look at the stars?

    It really depends. Can I see the stars or are they obscured by clouds or light pollution?

    When there is a clear view, I feel like I have a window seat to the universe. This prompt reminds me of one of my favorites of the hymns we sang at our UU congregation in Colorado, Blue Boat Home. People forget that even with all of it’s problems, Earth is an Eden teeming with life in a sparse and desolate universe.

    Earth is our Blue Boat Home in a sea of stars

    Looking at the stars, I feel the immensity of space and time, and lucky to get to witness existence. The light from distant stars may have taken millennia to get here. I wonder about what it is like there now and if they can see us. What if we are alone in the universe? What if we are not? Which is more improbable? I feel awe and curiosity and a visceral sense of infinity.

    As soon as it is clear here at night again, I will go look at the stars. They always point me in the right direction.

  • Trees

    Today’s prompt reminds me of a poem about trees and poems. 

    Trees by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

    Alas, I did not make myself. My mom, dad, and nature did. Or, if you like to call it that, God. Or maybe they worked together. Hard to say.

    If I were a tree, sometimes, I would be like these trees:

    Pines

    Sometimes I rise straight and strong to the sky, surrounded by others like me where I feel like I fit in, sheltered and providing shelter.

    Other times, I’m more like this tree:

    A few deciduous trees in a forest

    Dormant, set apart from those I perceive as like me, standing watch over activity that passes by me – almost near enough to touch – but does not include me.

    In reality, I am probably too much of a tourist to be a tree. Trees are rooted to one spot, with solid nourishing roots that extend at least as far beneath the surface as the branches extend to the heavens, patiently waiting and witnessing all the seasons with the appropriate response to the conditions. I tend to want to experience things all at once, whether or not I am ready, and don’t usually like being stuck in one place, even if it is a place that I love. There is so much to experience as a human that I never regret not being a tree.

  • Klara and the Sun: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb from Klara and the Sun by Kazau Ishiguru:

    Here is the story of Klara, an Artificial Friend with outstanding observational qualities, who, from her place in the store, watches carefully the behavior of those who come in to browse, and of those who pass on the street outside. She remains hopeful that a customer will soon choose her. Klara and the Sun is a thrilling book that offers a look at our changing world through the eyes of an unforgettable narrator, and one that explores the fundamental question: What does it mean to love?

    “As I say, these were helpful lessons for me. Not only had I learnt that changes were a part of Josie, and that I should be ready to accommodate them, I’d begun to understand also, that this wasn’t a trait peculiar just to Josie, that people often felt the need to prepare a side of themselves to display to passersby – as they might in a store window, and that such display needn’t be taken so seriously once the moment had passed.”

    ― Kazuo Ishiguro, Klara and the Sun

    from Goodreads

    I was so excited about this book. Perhaps that’s where things went wrong.

    I found the title by way of someone on social media that I typically enjoy on her list of favorite books of the year. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a story with artificial intelligence as a central theme written by a Nobel prize winner. I have been reading about artificial intelligence, both as non-fiction and fiction as a theme over the past year.

    This is a blog post exploring what did not work for me about this book.

    I enjoyed the beginning of this book. I liked the blank slate of the totally new, fresh out of the box Artificial Friend (AF), Klara.

    At some point, I had to check what age this book was written for, because Klara continues to act so child-like and naive that I though it might be a young adult book. To me, it actually has more potential as a YA book. It could be a tale for kids coming of age as AI does, about how to think about themselves, humanity, and artificial intelligence. But it did not go in that direction at all.

    There is a weird and disturbing subplot about the mom asking Klara to mimic Josie’s disabilities so that the mom can have a copy of her if she dies. This could be interesting, if it were written differently, but it is not to me. In another execution it could be an inquiry into what it means to be a shadow or an echo of a human you love, rather than simple mimicry; or a better window into how humans think of each other and handle, or don’t handle, loss. I found the current execution narcissistic, weird, and cruel. How dare my sick child inconvenience me on my day off? I will just take this robot when I want to go to some waterfall that means something to both of us! If this is what it means to love, I am depressed. Josie is going to need some serious therapy.

    Then, there is a weird mix on the technology side between including references to it, like Klara describing her vision in boxes, and not considering it at all, like no mention or though of feeding back into or advancing the other AI algorithms based on Klara’s learning. So many human hours of coding, annotating speech, image processing, robotics for walking, have gone into bringing us to the precipice of benefitting from AF. We are going to live with an instance for years and not feed any of that learning or data back into the model? Now that sounds wasteful and naive.

    So it makes sense to me, or I interpret the book as, Klara is solar powered and therefore obsessed with her power source. That sort of insight is kind of fun. What will AI “worry” about when their worries are separated from those of humans? I originally guessed they would be hungry for data, but power makes sense too. Power always makes sense as a thing sentient beings might want. Then Klara, the AF, starts praying to the Sun.

    This, to me, is the opposite of what a good book about what a book about how artificial intelligence plays out in our live might look like. That the Sun would be Klara’s higher power makes sense. I understand that AI is our creation and picks up our biases. Yet, the idea that an AI would pray, much less on behalf of a human, was the final detail that did not work for me. It might be a personal Uncanny Valley or the wrong personification of a machine for me.

    I read the Wikipedia plot summary, and I liked where things were headed even less than what I had read so far, so I quit reading. I was so disappointed on a number of levels.

  • Metaphorical Mix Tape

    Right now, my music is a mix of what gets played in our house.

    My daughter’s favorite song of the moment is Blueberry Eyes:

    When I asked my son what his favorite song was this morning, he said Safe and Sound:

    But my husband has been teaching him about Funk, so I’ve also been hearing a wide variety of music from the two of them.

    When left to his own devices, the man of the house listens to a lot of Medeski, Martin, & Wood:

    My mix that I listen to when I’m cooking or whatever starts with Something Just Like This. It could probably use some updating, but it is a reminder to be grateful in what I have when I have it and not waste what is while looking for perfection, but to also keep striving toward what comes next. A life long practice and goal.

    That’s my snapshot of music in our house today.

  • This is How You Lose the Time War: Book Review

    Back Cover Blurb:

    From award-winning authors Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone comes an enthralling, romantic novel (This Is How You Lose the Time War) spanning time and space about two time-traveling rivals who fall in love and must change the past to ensure their future. 

    Among the ashes of a dying world, an agent of the Commandant finds a letter. It reads: Burn before reading. Thus begins an unlikely correspondence between two rival agents hellbent on securing the best possible future for their warring factions. Now, what began as a taunt, a battlefield boast, grows into something more. Something epic. Something romantic. Something that could change the past and the future.

    Except the discovery of their bond would mean death for each of them. There’s still a war going on, after all. And someone has to win that war.

    “There’s a kind of time travel in letters, isn’t there? I imagine you laughing at my small joke; I imagine you groaning; I imagine you throwing my words away. Do I have you still? Do I address empty air and the flies that will eat this carcass? You could leave me for five years, you could return never – and I have to write the rest of this not knowing.”

    Max Gladstone, This Is How You Lose the Time War

    “She climbs upthread and down; she braids and unbraids history’s hair.”

    Amal El-Mohtar, This Is How You Lose the Time War

    This book is heavy on the prose and light on defined plot points, but I enjoyed the romance and whimsy. It let me occupy the head space of being newly in love when you read this kind of shit back and forth to each other, seeing the comedy and romance in every tragedy and the tragedy in every comedy and romance. If you yearn to feel gorgeous words tumble through your mind, body, and soul, this is the book for you: sardonic, sapphic, spy vs. spy sci/fi.

  • Solitude

    Every place I have ever lived, I have had a place that I go for solitude. I did not need a seperate space where I grew up, as we lived on 40 acres of rolling hills and forest in southern Indiana, specifically selected by my parents for its solitude. I carry that solitude with me wherever I go, but I also sometimes need a physical place to go to help access this interior state.

    Ironically, since then, the physical place I go when I need to access this internal sense of solitude is typically, but not always, a public place. Having other people milling around that I can see but am unlikely to need to talk to somehow opens up something in my brain. Almost always, it is an outdoor place in nature, with the exception of the Cleveland Museum of Art when I was in undergrad at CWRU. My place of solitude among strangers needs to be a place that I can walk around, as it is a place I go to think, and possibly feel. Walking helps me work through whatever I can’t get to in my everyday surroundings. This solitude is a sorting out space.

    Right now, my go to solitude is the Würselener Wald, the local public forest. I love seeing the seasons fade into each other. I have not been in a while right now because it is too wet and muddy, and I can feel its absence. I also go there with my family, and apparently that is typically when I take photographs. However, many of the nature details in my minds eye are from my walks alone. I particularly love the mossy roof shelter. Sometimes I will just walk to it and look at it, then touch the trunk in the center.