Girl Detective

#68 in my book challenge for the year, The Driver’s Seat is a little book that packs a big impact. It’s a single novella of just over 100 pages that follows Lise, a thirty-ish accountant, as she goes on holiday to Naples, Italy. Lise’s behavior grows increasingly erratic. It is clear from the start that something bad will happen; Spark even details what it is. It is how Spark unspools how it happens, and what happens exactly, though, that is what makes this book masterfully suspenseful and a creepy little gem.

#67 in my book challenge for the year is also Drake’s new favorite book. I’m not sure I can say it’s his first graphic novel, because he has quite enjoyed the Edward Gorey books we’ve read to him, The Doubtful Guest, The Epiplectic Bicycle, and The Gashlycrumb Tinies, the latter at least before G. Grod, being squeamish, “disappeared” it. I found The Clouds Above, which is published by Fantagraphics Books, at the comic book store, and was drawn by the shape, size, cover, paper quality and charming illustrations. The story is the adventure of a boy named Simon and his cat, Jack, who escape school into the clouds above. They encounter clouds both good and bad, a villainous teacher, and some very cranky birds. Drake has requested this book by name almost every day since we brought it home. While long to read aloud, it’s great fun for me, too.

#66 in my book challenge for the year. I read a recommendation of this book at Blog of a Bookslut. The novel centers on a man named Vincent Nolan, a former neo-nazi skinhead, who shows up at a peace organization run by a Holocaust survivor. The story is told from alternating viewpoints. The characters are rich and complex, their voices are distinct, and the story had a powerful pull. This was an extremely strong, well-written novel. I thought the ending pushed my bounds of belief, but I so liked the characters that I didn’t begrudge it to them.

I am currently obsessing about the Entertainment Weekly TV preview issue and why the heck I haven’t been able to get a copy yet. I’ve considered getting a subscription so I can stop this annual haunting of the newstands, but the Minneapolis post office can be slow, and it IS only this one issue that I crave.

I am currently paranoid about listeria. It is the one food poisoning that can cross the placenta, and in the past few weeks I’ve been laughing in the face of danger, consuming lunch meat, blue cheese, unpasteurized honey. I figured, hey, it’s rare and I’ll know if I get it within 48 hours. Apparently it can take WEEKS to manifest, and while rare it is usually deadly to the fetus. So I’m regretting my blithe, “this is my second pregnancy; no need to be paranoid like the first” attitude, and will be paranoid for the next month, at least.

I am currently fretting about pants. My regular pants and skirts don’t fit in the waist. Maternity wear looks as if I’m playing dress up. I’m in that awkward stage, which I hope I grow out of soon.

I am currently looking forward to watching TV tonight. My husband G. Grod and I call it “Sci-Fi Friday.” After Drake goes to bed we watch the Tivo’d Firefly then Battlestar Galactica, which has gotten crazy good.

I am currently between books, having just finished two whoppingly good ones, Francine Prose’s A Changed Man and Muriel Sparks’s The Driver’s Seat. Haven’t committed to the next book yet. Candidates include Other Electricities by Ander Monson, Tricked graphic novel by Alex Robinson, and The Skin Chairs by Barbara Comyns.

I am currently feeling a bit better from the cold, and a strange but not uncommon-for-me home-economy resolve has surfaced, which is to clear out the fridge, the freezer and the pantry of the stuff that’s been sitting around for weeks or longer and use it up. I have a LOT of rhubarb, though. And I don’t even like rhubarb.

I just picked up a couple this week, but thought I’d do quick reviews, in case any of these titles are ones you’ve wondered about picking up.

Seven Soldiers: The Manhattan Guardian #4 by Grant Morrison. I’ve liked but not loved the Seven Soldiers series, but the last few issues have begun to tie all the threads together, and I’m hoping that it will work well as a whole. The art in TMG has gotten a lot of attention, including the New York Times, but I think this was the most entertaining story thus far.

Gotham Central #35 by Greg Rucka and Ed Brubaker. This is a really solid crime comic with great characterization among the staff of the Gotham City detective unit. The current storyline has young boys dressed as Robin turning up dead. Are they Robin? Is there more than one Robin? And who’s killing them? The art is perfectly suited to the story, and this is one of my favorite monthly titles.

Fell #1 by Warren Ellis. I liked this comic even before I read the “Backmatter” by Ellis, after which I liked it even more. Ellis said he wanted to put together a comic that told an individual story, yet cost less than the usual $2.25 and up comics. This one, at under $1.99, does exactly that. A single, self-contained story, yet one that lays the groundwork for future related ones, and at the old fashioned price of under $2. Ellis can get a bit gonzo for my tastes sometimes, but when he’s on, he’s good, and this is a good comic at a good price. Check it out.

From a few weeks ago:

Rocketo by Frank Espinosa. NICE! A fantasy story about an Atlantis-like world about a young boy named Rocketo who grows into a famous adveturer/cartographer. Lovely art, compelling story, a top rather than a side binding, good colors and nice paper stock for the covers and interior. This looks like a very promising new series.

#65 in my book challenge for the year. I was disapponted by this book. Nafisi, a former professor of literature in Iran, discusses the complex melange of books, war and people that she experienced in her teaching years. The book begins and ends with a private reading group she assembles of former female students of hers. A quote by a friend of hers near the end sums up what I felt was a big problem with this memoir:

As he carries in the two mugs of tea I tell him, You know, I feel all my life has been a series of departures. He raises his eyebrows, placing the mugs on the table, and looks at me as if he had expected a prince and all he could see was a frog. Then we both laugh. He says, still standing, You can say this sort of crap in the privacy of these four walls–I am your friend; I shall forgive you–but don’t ever write this in your book. I say, But is is the truth. Lady, he says, we do not need your truths but your fiction–if you’re any good, perhaps you can trickle in some sort of truth, but spare us your real feelings. P. 338

Nafisi’s memoir goes into depth about the books they read, and about the people in her life, but is frustratingly vague about her own self. It as if the narrator is a void, through which she talks about books and other people. I found it a bit unsettling that she spent more time narrating others’ stories than her own. I also found her use of quotation marks inconsistent and difficult to read. But I did appreciate Nafisi’s insights into the novels she and her students read, including Lolita, The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, and Daisy Miller, and am interested to read or re-read them. This book is a good complement to Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis graphic novels, but I preferred those to this. Satrapi is the main character of her narrative, not an insubstantial observer and periodic participant in her own story.

I wonder if some of the popularity of this book comes from readers who crave but did not experience the kind of critical, deep readings of books that Nafisi does with her students.

I’ve written before about how I’ve become a faithful library patron. A few weeks ago, I tried the “recommend” feature on my library’s web site. It allows me to recommend an item, then put myself on the wait list if they do purchase it. There are now five items on my wait list that weren’t previously in the library’s collection. I’m thrilled, but I must remember to use this power for good, not evil.

#64 in my book challenge for the year. As with all the Potter books, an enjoyable, fast read that is darker and more complex than the books that preceded it.

In a wonderful reversal, Harry no longer hesitates about telling people his suspicions, so there is no contrived conflict as there has been in the previous five books. Instead, and much more believably, I think, sometimes people believe him, sometimes they don’t.

Snape’s character is continually called into question. Malfoy is up to something, but no one believes Harry as to what it is. A new professor, Slughorn, is introduced. Dumbledore and Harry are finally communicating and spending time together so Harry can learn about Voldemort. And Harry has a crush on a girl, though apparently, many people think she’s the wrong one. (Which is absurd. Those who think this have not been paying attention. Rowling has been dropping hints about these pairings in every single one of the previous books. Silly readers.) And at the end someone important dies, though Harry finds out that there is someone else out there with the initials R. A. B. who has acted against Voldemort. (I have a theory about who this is, by the way, if anyone wants to email me and discuss nerdishly.)

The next book is set up so that Harry will be leaving Hogwart’s and seeking out Voldemort, supposedly on his own. I thought this was a dark, entertaining story that was a good penultimate novel in a series, provided that Rowling can pull off the ending. She has her shortcomings as a writer–sometimes weak prose and a tendency to go on that is not edited now that she is so famous–but plotting is not generally one of them. I look forward to the next and last book in the series.

#63 in my book challenge for the year, published by Alternative Comics. Weird but charming is the best description I find for Kochalka’s work. His books are always odd, but the cute factor of the art combined with the author’s sometimes painfully earnest honesty have found a continual place in my graphic novel collection. This is a wee book, expensive at $19.95, but with a pleasing size and good paper and cover quality. The themes he covers are familiar ones: work with passion, not with craft; fear technology, not nature; embrace love and hope. The middle sections, which focus on 9/11 and the birth of his son, read like extended sections from his Sketchbook Diaries, while the rest focuses on comics criticism and theory. This is not the book to start with if you’ve never read Kochalka (for that I’d recommend Quit Your Job or Fantastic Butterflies), but it’s a worthy, interesting addition if you’re already a fan.

#62 in my book challenge for the year. I’ve been reading and loving Vaughan’s Ex Machina and Y the Last Man comic book series for a while, but I had yet to pick up Runaways. My friend the Big Brain told me to be patient; the initial series was going to be collected in a full-size, color hardcover. I’m glad I waited rather than picking up the individual issues here and there. The art, by newcomer Adrian Alphona, is distinctive and engaging, and it benefits from the increase in size. Runaways is the story of six teenagers who accidentally discover that their parents are supervillains. Some have powers of their own, others have gadgets, and one has a genetically engineered pet velociraptor. As the series progresses, both the parents and the teens are fleshed out believably. One of the teens is revealed as the mole, and another turns out to have a surprising crush. In the notes that accompany this collection, Vaughan writes that he was trying to make a true all-ages book, one that could be read, understood and enjoyed by kids and adults. I think he’s succeeded, and am now awaiting the next Runaways collection.

For Drake’s birthday, his grammy kindly sent a bookstore gift card. It was burning a hole in G. Grod’s wallet so we went book shopping this weekend. Plus, I think G. may have harbored a small hope that maybe he or I could justify getting something for ourselves, like the new TPB–trade paperback–of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell, or the Low CD The Great Destroyer. We were good, though. We used it all on Drake.

Choosing children’s books has been more of a learning curve for me than I would have thought. My mom thoughtfully kept all the books from when my sisters and I were young, and I oversaw the kids’ section of a large used book store for a year. I felt pretty knowledgeable about kids’ books. But a former colleague from the bookstore shared that he spent years collecting a tremendous children’s library, yet all his kids want to read is Pokemon. Like him, having a kid sharpened my appreciation for what really works. Omnibus collections of multiple stories (George and Martha, Curious George, and Madeleine all have these) are heavy for toddlers to lift and too long to read in one setting, causing tears once the book is shut. Deluxe editions, like The Essential Eloise by Kay Thompson, contain extras that might be interesting to adults, but do not make easy reading to children. And some stories are just disliked, either by parents or by the kid. Both my husband and I dislike Curious George stories, which are long, disjointed and often feature odd or disturbing details, like George being kidnapped from the jungle and later smoking. Other books are fine once or twice, but can become tiresome when asked for several times in a row. Some of our books receive a temporary, and some a permanent, time out. Some of Drake’s favorite books are classics from when I was a child, like Bedtime for Frances, but some of the most successful new books we’ve acquired have been recommendations from other parents. Pancakes, Pancakes by Eric Carle, and several of the mouse books by Kevin Henkes are now well-loved and oft-read books in our library.

As I struggled to winnow our choices, I was reminded why we normally shop in used book stores. Yes, there are some dodgy ethics about the author not getting the proceeds, but I just can’t argue with the sheer bang for the buck of the used books. (Last week, for example, we got 11 books–one for us, 10 for Drake–for $30.)

New bookstores, though, have their own joys, like a wide selection, including new releases, of non-shabby books. I was torn by all the choices, though. Should we get new books, classics, hardcovers, paperbacks? Just as I’d finally made my decisions, G. Grod drew my attention to the book clutched in Drake’s hand. He’d made a choice of his own, so I had to put back a copy of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf. Here are our new books. Try to guess which was Drake’s pick.

Kitten’s First Full Moon by Kevin Henkes
Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey
Swimmy by Leo Lionni
Katy and the Big Snow by Virginia Lee Burton
Lift the Flap: Things That Go
I Am Not Sleepy and I Will Not Go to Bed by Lauren Child

#61 in my book challenge for the year. My husband and several other people I know started Harry Potter #6 (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince) only to say, “I completely forget what happened in #5.” Forewarned, I read #5 in preparation for #6. #5 is the 766-page, brick-sized, potential bludgeoning weapon in the series, so this was not something I undertook lightly. Yet I blazed through the book in just a few days, when books less than half as long have taken me twice as long.

I know there are many out there who don’t like the Harry Potter books, and especially don’t like the hype that they’ve garnered. Fair enough. J.K. Rowling is a fair, not a great, writer of prose, and her books have some serious plot flaws, chief among them, in my opinion, the continued failure of Harry and his friends to confide in adults who have proved themselves trustworthy again and again. If Rowling were a bit more precise in plotting, she could come up with much better reasons why Harry & Co. couldn’t or wouldn’t confide.

There is much to these books’ credit, though. First, they’re getting people to read who might otherwise not. Second, they’ve brought notice and acceptability to that bastard stepchild genre of literature, fantasy. It’s not just for nerds anymore. Third, in spite of plot flaws they are hugely enjoyable, eminently readable tales. And finally, they’re full of engaging, sympathetic characters who have grown more complex over the course of the series. In all, I think the books do much more good than harm. I think detractors are welcome to their opinion, but there’s no need to go on about it.

This book once again escalates the darkness and complexity. Harry is a very believable angry young man. He is confused about his attraction to Cho Chang, he is angry that Dumbledore is keeping him in the dark and ignoring him, he is frustrated that people don’t believe him that Voldemort is back, and he is reckless in his interactions with the new defense against the dark arts professor, Dolores Umbridge, who has been sent from the ministry of magic to keep an eye on things at Hogwarts.

The central plot of the book is solid. There is a group called the Order of the Phoenix that has re-formed in order to fight Voldemort. But other subplots, even if they are integrated, still felt extraneous, such as Hermione’s ongoing attempts to free the house elves, and the mysterious thing that Hagrid is up to this book. I found the shenanigans of Fred and George Weasley to be very entertaining, and was thrilled when they seized control of their fate. Someone in the book who is important to Harry does die, but I felt curiously unmoved both times I’ve read this book by it. On the one hand, it seemed inevitable. On the other, perhaps I was so distracted by the rest of the 766 pages (in the English, Bloomsbury edition) that I couldn’t focus my attention.

This book has the same extremely aggravating flaw as all the books beforehand, which is that Harry is unreasonably stubborn about confiding in trustworthy adults, and much distress might have been avoided. Rowling is great at making the reader want to find out what happens next, but I deplore this contrived way that she manufactures the conflict at points.

I am working at a readable summary of this book for those who don’t wish to re-read it before tackling #6. I found it a quick and enjoyable read, though, and am glad to have undertaken it.

#60 in my book challenge for the year. I was given this book (and its sequels) by a kind friend of mine when I was having postpartum trouble nearly two years ago. It continually got shuffled around and never made it onto my reading list till now. I can see why my friend sent it. True to its cover blurbs, it is a funny, touching, life-affirming book. Botswana itself is so carefully and lovingly described it is almost a character itself. But the main character, Ms. Precious Ramotswe, is a gem. She is honest, down-to-earth, and intelligent. I was thrilled to see her detective business succeed. This also was a good reality check book, with many reminders of what is and is not really important.

I had a few quibbles, though. First, the novel jumped around from story to story, often with little connection or continuity among her cases. Second, there was a little too much reverence for the simple life. The east/west dichotomy is not always so clear cut. Finally, I found the ending strained belief, though it was a relief. These concerns, though, are minor compared to the experience of the whole, which is overall quite worthy.

#59 in my book challenge for the year. This book had some serious wow factors. It is a noir cop novel set in Bangkok. The main character is a Buddhist who uses meditation as a detection method, and can see the past lives of those around him. Several times I paused in reading and thought, this book is really cool. There is murder, corruption, drugs, and a damsel who may or may not be in distress. The book covers lots of ground–east/west culture clash, a few short but stunning passages on Thai food, and the complex situational ethics of Bangkok prostitution. The main character of Sonchai is one of the most compelling I’ve read. The ending is somewhat vague. Some might find it frustrating, but I thought it balanced well, karmically. It’s not nice and tidy like a typical American detective novel, but it’s not inconsistent with the rest of the book, which is pleasantly different from a typical American detective novel.

It is an growing peeve of mine when literary folk look down on comic books. (What does a peeve grow up into? Mine has gotten pretty big over the years.) Yesterday I read comics referred to on a literary blog as trash reading. In Ebert and Roeper’s review of Stealth, both agreed that it had “comic-book” effects, meaning flashy and non-substantive. “Comic book” is not an adjectival phrase that means simple and bad. Yes, some comic books are trash, just as some books are trash. But comic books and graphic novels can be art in a way that non-picture books can’t. Comic books and graphic novels can be literature told with words and pictures. If one loves books, I believe one can love comics. Comics, like all art , have myriad genres. If a comic book neophyte tells me what kind of book she likes, I can recommend a complementary comic book or graphic novel.

Victorian lit? League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
Cop thrillers? Top Ten
Horror/fantasy? Shakespeare? Sandman
Military/Spy novels? Queen and Country
Mysteries? The Whiteout graphic novels
The Kite Runner/Reading Lolita in Tehran? Persepolis 1 & 2
Young adult coming of age? Goodbye Chunky Rice, Blankets
Travelogue? Carnet de Voyage

One of my favorite events is our family’s weekly trip to the comic store on Wednesday, which is new-comic day. Yesterday there were three–three!–new graphic novels (Tricked by Alex Robinson, Mort Grim by Doug Fraser, and the hardcover collection of Bryan K. Vaughan’s Runaways) plus a few issues from my favorite ongoing series (Fables and 100 Bullets.) When I go to the comic shop, I get to see friends, buy books, and watch Drake while he runs up and down the aisles, crowing with glee. It’s a rich joy, not non-substantive trash.

#58 in my book challenge for the year. I re-read the book after seeing the movie, and can now say that the movie gets muddled when it departs from the book. I can see why the film director chose to depart, because the book is complex. It centers on Sophie, a young hat girl who is bewitched to look like an old woman. Ashamed of her appearance, she leaves home and takes up residence in the moving castle of the title, owned by the wizard Howl. There are many mysteries that Sophie must solve, and she must stand up to any number of witches and difficult situations. Sophie is a strong, well-realized female character, and her story is a compelling one. I recommend this and other books by Diana Wynne Jones for fans of fantasy and Harry Potter.

I learned to cook when I found myself living alone for the first time in a tiny sublet that had a food processor. My mom sent me a copy of The Moosewood Cookbook, not because I was vegetarian but because it was easier to learn to cook on vegetables. I was so ignorant that I had to ask a foodie friend whether a clove of garlic was one segment or the whole head. (She never forgot that. Never mind that I’d been pretty sure of the answer, and was just checking to be certain. Years later she still laughed.)

It was a few years later that another foodie got me a subscription to Cook’s Illustrated. I’d read other cooking magagazines before–Food and Wine, Gourmet, and Bon Appetit. I liked them fine, though I found them largely the same. Cook’s Illustrated, though, was something else. It had no ads, just a few recipes per issue, plus a tasting and an equipment testing. Best of all, they were obsessed with food, so that when they published a recipe, they let you know just how many times and what variations were tried before arriving at the final recipe. It was like the Consumer Reports of cooking. I have been a subscriber now for about ten years.

A few years ago they began a show on PBS, America’s Test Kitchen. I was surprised to find that the show was a good complement to the magazine. It highlighted just a few recipes, plus one tasting and one testing. It featured staff from the magazine, and they were fun to watch. The style of the show was like the magazine–straightforward, not fancy, and above all, informational.

Last summer I spent a lot of time away when we sold our condo and bought a house. I decided to sign up for Cook’s Online, which includes all the recipes, as well as searchable databases. It has been a useful subscription even when I’m home and have access to all my back issues of Cook’s.

Finally, last year Cook’s sent out a solicitation for their new sister magazine, Cook’s Country, which a friend has jokingly called “Red-State Cook’s”. I was going to pass, since I felt one subscription plus online was enough, but was swayed by the “try it for free” offer. When it arrived, I prepared to write cancel on the invoice. That is, until my husband waved the magazine in my face and said excitedly, “Have you seen this? There are about seven recipes I want to make in here!” And so we became subscribers to Cook’s Country, as well.

We were converts to the Cook’s empire, then, but I’d managed to shed other cooking magazines and shows. Then a friend recommended Everyday Food, a digest-sized mag from the Martha Stewart empire. I checked it out, and found it had good photography and simple recipes that were true to the title. I also found they had a cooking show. The show, though, like the magazine, features a lot of recipes. It goes through them very quickly. There are some tidbits of information, but they are mostly very basic cooking tips, like generously salt water for pasta, and save some pasta water to thin the sauce if necessary. It isn’t a bad show, but I found it redundant to the magazine for me. Perhaps it would be more useful to someone newer to the cooking learning curve, however. I am going to give the magazine a try, though I’ve had a hard time tracking it down in stores. It features simple, straightforward recipes that would be ideal for weeknight cooking. I think it could be a good balance for Cook’s, which favors quality above all, sometimes resulting in longer cooking times.

It’s taken me some time, but I’ve finally managed to work my way through at least one issue of each of the shopping magazines: the original, Lucky; spinoff #1 Cargo for men; copycat #1 Shop, Etc.; and spinoff #2 Domino for home.

Years ago a friend told me Lucky was a great magazine. I scoffed. The shopping magazine? Then I checked it out, apologized and became a subscriber. Lucky is one of the most successful magazine launches in recent years. It positions its editors as in-the-know girlfriends, dispensing advice on how to dress and what products–classic and new–to try. Lucky is a great magazine for ideas, and it features a wide range of items, from drugstores to exclusive boutiques. The production quality is high with accessible layouts, and good photography, models, writing, and paper stock. Editor-in-Chief Kim France and Creative Director Andrew Linnett are alumni of the late, lamented Sassy, to which Lucky is a much more worthy heir than is the celebrity-suck-up Jane.

I picked up a few copies of Cargo to get fashion ideas for my husband, who tends to be somewhat sartorially challenged. Cargo, though, gave me a headache. It was too bright, too busy, and it’s pitched to a young, metrosexual consumer.

Shop, Etc. has tried to copy Lucky’s success. I found its first issue to be like a low-rent version of Lucky–poorer photography, cheaper paper, fewer models to save on costs, and clumsy attempts to write Lucky-like copy. A subsequent issue themed “everything under $100″ got my attention, but then annoyed me when I spotted the $100+ Mason Pearson hairbrush. I noticed from the letters column that readers seemed to believe it was a shopping magazine for more average lives and budgets, but I’m not sure that’s intended. It may be a response to the cheaper price and production value of the magazine. Aside from the under $100 issue, it features a wide range of items and costs. I found nothing in Shop, Etc. that Lucky doesn’t do better or that I felt Lucky lacked.

Finally, the newest entry, Domino, is like Lucky for the home. The premier issue did all the same things as does Lucky, but didn’t strike a chord with me. I found some of the items in the ads more compelling than the stuff in the features. Maybe it’s that I’m not a DIY-er, so I’m not the target, but I found the mini sections that Lucky has on home items to be sufficient. This full-length magazine was just too much for me.

Interesting, also, was that Cargo, Shop, Etc., and Domino were all difficult to find. Lucky is available up front at Target. The others I had to go to a bookstore to find, and even then, I had to go to more than one bookstore. At the end of my experiment, I’ve found I’m loyal to Lucky. One shopping magazine is enough for me, if not for the magazine industry.

#57 in my book challenge for the year was Freakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. It was a fast, flashy read that at first blush was quite clever. A little distance made it less brilliant, but still worthwhile and enjoyable. The Guardian has an amusing digested read of Freakonomics. Levitt is an unconventional economist who tackles puzzles that interest him rather than financials. He targets conventional wisdom, and notes that something becomes convention because it’s convenient and easy to believe, while not always true. Among the objects of his scrutiny are drug dealers, schoolteachers, and worried parents. Some of the comparisons he draws are overly extreme, as when he compares real estate agents to Ku Klux Klan members.

One of Levitt’s most contested points was that the unexpected crime drop of the 80’s was due to the aftereffect of Roe v. Wade. The pool of potential criminals was smaller because they had not been born. The authors wait until the end of the chapter, though, to say (in somewhat murky prose) that abortion is not effective crime control. They did point out, though, what many tracts on abortion don’t, which is that abortion is largely an issue for poor, minority women. Financially secure white women will always have access to safer abortions, whether they’re legal or not. One of the numbers they did not mention, though, is that when abortion is illegal, more women (usually poor, minority women) die.

I appreciated the chapters on effective parenting. They discovered that there was no correlation between success in school and reading to a child every day, the amount of TV kids watch, or how often children are taken to museums. There is, however, strong correlation with the age and education of the mother and number of books in the home. Interestingly, they did not define what they considered success in school. There was a murky bit when they argued that school choice didn’t matter–students who applied in a lottery for a different school did the same whether they went to that school or their local one. But another section argued that young children at poorer, mostly minority schools did worse than counterparts at wealthier, whiter schools. This may have been a distinction in age–young children versus high schoolers, but that wasn’t made clear.

Last week I read Bruce Campbell’s autobiography If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B-Movie Actor (#56 in my book challenge for the year) and went to see Bruce host a screening of The Man with the Screaming Brain (#38 in my movie challenge for the year).

Bruce Campbell is best known for his starring work in the Evil Dead trilogy, a set of B-movie horror flicks from the 80’s and 90’s. I saw Evil Dead for the first time when I was in college (in Henle 21, for the record), because some guy friends were big fans. It was bloody and it was funny, and I remember one of the guys kept up a continuous chorus of, “Oh, this part is so awesome.” It was clear that the guys had the movie memorized.

The director of the Evil Dead films, Sam Raimi, hit the big time finally with the very good Spider Man and even better Spider Man 2. Campbell has managed to stay alive in Hollywood as a B actor, but he doesn’t bemoan his fate. He has genuine affection for the early movies and how much creative control he and his friends had on them. He’s been in some big movies, such as the Coen Brothers The Hudsucker Proxy, and has spent a lot of time doing series television, first on the short-lived Adventures of Brisco Country, Jr. and later as a recurring character first on Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and later on Xena: Warrior Princess. If Chins Could Kill is an entertaining, anecdote-laden trip. Campbell is humorous and self-effacing, and comes off as a likable guy. Bruce is touring in support of his new book, How to Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way.

The Man with the Screaming Brain is his first time directing a film. It was financed by the Sci-Fi channel, who told him he had to film in Bulgaria, so he re-wrote the movie around that. During the Q & A after the showing, Campbell joked that the film wasn’t released, it had escaped. He did a good bit of bantering back and forth, solidifying that funny, good-guy persona. The Man with the Screaming Brain is the story of a mad scientist (Stacey Keach) who discovers a way to merge brain cells of different people. It’s played for slapstick, and it is quite funny at times. Both City Pages and The Beat have reviewed it favorably, and perhaps a bit kindly, but it’s hard not to want to be kind to Campbell. It will air on the Sci Fi Channel on Septemer 10.