Girl Detective

Veronica Mars returned this week. I am one among many fans who have lamented that season three is nowhere near as great as season one was. But since season one was one of the best things on TV, ever, maybe I’m expecting too much. Veronica is still sassy, and the supporting cast is strong. I was sad to see Ed Begley Jr.’s character die at the end of the mid-season episode. He brought a lot of much-needed quirky humor to the dark storyline. At the end of this week’s ep, I was thrilled to see Veronica show up at Logan’s door, even though I don’t love the lovesick Logan. It sounds like he’s swallowing every other word. I don’t mind Piz, but Piz and Veronica? No way. He’s not got nearly enough dark side. Riley on Buffy had more than he does, and look how well THAT ended.

For the rest of the season, then, I’m going to try to be less tough on Veronica. We girl detectives have to stick together.

There, I’ve said it. You know it’s true. You want to believe (like I did) that putting your kid in front of a video of classical music paired with bright, colorful images will stimulate their brains. Well, it will, but more toward ADD than genius. I tried to be polite about my dislike of this line when I wrote about Mimi’s Toes, since I have many friends who love it. But the Baby Einstein creator is an honored friend of Laura Bush, and a Forbes article reminds us that there is no evidence that baby electronica is helpful, and much to suggest that it’s harmful.

Baby Einstein is mediocre stuff that targets parents’ hopes and fears about their children’s intelligence. Don’t fall for it. Instead, read a well-written book to your child. Play a non-electronic game with her. Take him outside for some fresh air and exercise. Play some real music, instead of the Muzack-y baby classics. Our son Drake enjoys the Paste magazine CD samplers.

I’m writing in our basement, where the temp hovers in the mid-fifties. I have on a coat, scarf, warm socks, slippers. I put on gloves when the cold impairs my typing; I take them off when their bulk does same. Why type in the cold basement? The light is bright, even augmented by a few windows. There are fewer distractions. And it is two floors down from the napping boys, so I am less likely to wake them if I move around.

Sadly, Drake is having one of his ever-more common non-napping days, and baby Guppy did not get the memo that afternoon naps should last over an hour. Since I believe strongly in 2-hour naps, we’re having some conflict. It would seem I’m cold down here for nothing.

“It is the greatest absurdity–Actually snowing at this moment!–The folly of not allowing people to be comfortable at home–and the folly of people’s not staying comfortably at home when they can! If we were obliged to go out such an evening as this, by any call of duty or business, what a hardship we should deem it;–and here are we, probably with rather thinner clothing than usual, setting forward voluntarily, without excuse, in defiance of the voice of nature, which tells man, in every thing given to his view or his feelings, to stay at home himself, and keep all under shelter that he can;– here are we setting forward to spend five dull hours in another man’s house, with nothing to say or to hear that was not said and heard yesterday, and may not be said and heard again to-morrow. Going in dismal weather, to return probably in worse;–four horses and four servants taken out for nothing but to convey five idle, shivering creatures into colder rooms and worse company than they might have had at home.”

Mister John Knightley, a voice of reason, in Austen’s Emma. I am intrigued by his argument that we should attend to nature’s suggestion, and stay home when it is cold. On one hand, we Minnesotans would be housebound a lot. On the other, getting myself and the kids bundled up and out the door and into a vehicle is considerable work. It makes me long to curl up on the couch with books. And what if we went to bed earlier, and got up later during winter? Modern life doesn’t encourage this kind of adjustment to our environment. But what if it did?

#4 in my 2007 book challenge was Mockingbird, a biography of Nelle Harper Lee. I read both To Kill a Mockingbird and In Cold Blood last year, and this was an interesting and informative companion book. This is the first and only bio of Lee, so Shields has the good fortune of no competition, as well as the good timing to publish in the wake of the films Capote and Infamous. Exhaustively researched in spite of Lee’s refusal to participate, the book did not feel tight and polished. I saw a number of typos (e.g., “the” left out of “on other hand”), usage errors (e.g., another thing coming, rather than the lesser known but correct “think”), and unwieldy sentences. The strength of the book is the exhaustive research of the author, particularly around the time that Lee wrote To Kill a Mockingbird and helped Capote research In Cold Blood. There was good evidence of her writing habits, her strengths and weaknesses, and her family ties. It also gave different views into certain aspects of In Cold Blood. Shields attempts to answer the obvious question of why Lee never wrote another book as early as the introduction. I wasn’t sure why he would want to give away his conclusions so quickly after he did all the research that follows. The detailed intro also made a lot of what followed feel repetitive. The subject was fascinating, but the book itself would have benefited from more thorough editing, both of copy and in structure.

As Drake and Guppy require more attention and nap less, I’ve pared down and prioritized the other basics of my day:

Journal
Read book
Exercise/go outside
Work on novel
Write for weblog
Read and reply to email
Read online feeds
Housework (laundry, cooking, cleaning)

Since I only get short breaks, or none at all, it’s easy to get distracted by the silly stuff. This list helps me focus in the midst of disruptions.

I know parents who have given up on all sorts of things once they had a child. Movies, books, writing, restaurants, even clothing and makeup. All these things matter to me, though, so I make time for them by not doing other things. Clothing and makeup might seem trivial or superficial compared to the others, but I haven’t given up on those, either. Much of my time as a mother is spent on the physical needs of my toddler and baby. Time for my physical needs helps at least a little. I sometimes wonder, when I’m running late, if it’s worth it that I have makeup or accessories on, or that my outfit fits and matches. My preparation is an oasis of autonomy among the negotiations and acrobatics required to get the kids out the door.

I have begun work on my second novel in longhand rather than on my computer. This didn’t start consciously but rather circumstantially. I found myself without my machine, so I grabbed a journal and started to write. Ever since, I’ve continued in longhand, typing up passages later for my writing group. This works well for me, since baby Guppy doesn’t nap often or for long. Though the computer seems like it would increase efficiency, it’s a false economy. By the time I boot up the computer, open the programs, and attach the mouse, precious minutes have gone by, and my resolve to work has lessened.

My friend Rock Hack noticed after her second child that she could manage accessories or makeup, but not both. I find myself living that dichotomy on a regular basis. Today I have on a bracelet and earrings that match my sweater, but not a jot of makeup. Thank goodness for tinted moisturizer.

Another friend said that having another child meant that she could do the laundry, but couldn’t manage to put it away. I’m living that one all the time too. I shift my pile of clothes back and forth between the top of my dresser and the bed for days.

I am just back from a twelve-day trip, and resumption of daily life has been less than smooth. I struggled to get Drake, Guppy and myself dressed and out the door this morning. Only at lunchtime did I realize that Drake had missed breakfast. We eventually all got where we needed to be.

I have new appreciation for the enforced simplicity of living out of a suitcase. Back home, I am surrounded by too many choices; too many things that call for my attention.

Currently recovering from trip east to visit family. Plane delayed for 90 minutes because of weather, but boys were magically well behaved. Drake stayed in his seat for most of the flight and Guppy flirted shamelessly with the flight attendants. While some of the good travel experience with kids is just luck, some of it is also preparation. Both boys received a pre-flight diaper change and dose of Tylenol. I brought two new books for Drake, I Stink and Farmer Duck. I brought snacks aplenty for all of us. I pulled out Drake’s Doodlepro, lollipops, and a toy car at strategic moments.

My travel credo remains: Enjoy it if it’s good; don’t flip out if it goes wrong.

#3 in my 2007 movie challenge was The Queen. Mirren conveyed a lot of emotion with great economy. I loved the strength and independence of the queen, and enjoyed her wardobes of pearls and scarves–the queen has really good accessories. I was also reminded of what a terrible deal Diana got–bad marriage, divorce, then hounded literally to death by paparazzi. Too many overlook the irony of romanticizing princesses while also mourning her tragic death.

#3 in my 2007 book challenge was Hemingway’s Sun Also Rises. Long a favorite of my husband, it was more what I was expecting from a Hemingway book than A Moveable Feast: dark, bitter and depressing. The female character had no redeeming aspects, and left a trail of wrecked men in her wake. I felt sorry for all the characters in the book. The writing illustrated a technique Hemingway wrote about in AMF: deliberately leaving out critical detail. We never find out what Jake Barnes’s accident was, how it happened, or any details of its aftermath. This novel is in stark contrast to the remembered sweetness and joy in AMF of his early years in Paris. The ending sentence is powerful and enigmatic, and illustrates the writing advice Hemingway noted in AMF: All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know.

#2 in my 2007 movie challenge was the 1944 film Jane Eyre. I consulted Time Out, so I wasn’t expecting much, and wasn’t disappointed. I wanted to watch in advance of the Masterpiece Theater Jane Eyre, part I of which is airing in the US this Sunday, 21 January 2007. The 1944 film is worthwhile, but uneven. A very young Elizabeth Taylor is Jane’s childhood friend Helen. Jane’s Aunt Reeves is played with cruel glee by Agnes Moorehead, better known as Endora from the TV show, Bewitched. The adult Jane is played by Joan Fontaine, too pretty and moist eyed for me to accept as pale, plain, indomitable Jane. Orson Welles seems to have a good time as Rochester, and was more convincing to me in that role. I didn’t care for the movie’s combination of text and voiceover. The last part of the book, with St. John Rivers, was deleted from the film version, and made for a more conventional, and less interesting, story than the book.

#1 in my 2007 movie challenge, Brick was from the library, so I broke my vow of borrowing less right away. It’s a noir thriller set in high school. The humor is dark, and the dialogue fast, jargon-y, and often hard to follow. It’s entertaining, and I like Joseph Gordon Levitt, and thought he did a credible job as the bitter loner trying to find his ex. But I found the movie as a whole faintly absurd, often purposely so, as in the kitchen scene with a character’s mom. The heavy dialogue and the often brutal actions (only one of which was shown, and then not closely) hung strangely on the young actors, as if they were playing dress-up in a movie beyond their years.

#2 in my 2007 book challenge was A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway. Like Demian, AMF was named by a friend (are you out there, JS?) as one of his favorite books. I bought it and it sat on my shelf. This book is one I regret having waited so long to meet. It is a memoir of Hemingway’s early writing career in Paris, and of his first marriage. It’s literary history, but I also read it as an apology to his first wife, Hadley, and an extended, elegiac suicide note. Having read only a little Hemingway long ago (a book of short stories, in college), I was expecting A Moveable Feast to be well written. I was not expecting a gentle book of humility, love, and sadness. This is one I will gladly read again.

#1 in my 2007 book challenge was Demian by Hermann Hesse. Years ago, a friend said it was his favorite book, so I picked up a copy and it sat on my shelf till now. Emil Sinclair feels different from his family and at his school. After meeting Max Demian, he becomes more aware of difference. After a brief struggle to fit in, Sinclair begins a program of self-education. While Sinclair does evolve, it’s not into the social structure, the typical end of a coming-of-age novel, but rather to someplace beyond it. Nietzsche is a clear influence. The homo-eroticism is barely veiled. This was intriguing to read so soon after I’d read Catcher in the Rye and King Dork. Sinclair and Caulfield have a lot in common. In contrast, King Dork ends with fairly predictable social and familial acceptance.

I’m going to continue with book and movie goals of fifty apiece, with three clarifications.

One, I want to read and watch more of what I already have than I did in 2006. I’ll need to continue the reined-in book buying, and be more selective about what I put in my library reserve queue.

Two, I want to read better books. There weren’t many “wow” books for me last year, even including the four I liked enough to purchase after borrowing them from the library. I read a lot of books that made me go “meh” last year. To do this, I’m going to try and worry less about how many books I’m reading, since fifty seems to be an attainable goal.

Three, I’m going to try not to make lists in advance. They spoil some of the fun of seeking out a new book, whether it’s from the library, store, or my own bookshelves.

My vague goal for 2007 is to get organized–clear the crap, purge the paper, detox from magazines, curb impulse buying at Target–but I was reminded of this article from the Onion.

I’m doomed.

“What’s this book called, Mommy?” said Drake, holding up a book at Grammy’s house.

“Mimi’s Toes,” I replied, trying to keep the disdain out of my voice. I think the book’s rhyme scheme is forced, which makes it unpleasant to read. I’m also not a devotee of the Baby Einstein line in general.

[Yes, yes, I know it's wildly popular, and to each her own, etc. But I can't help suspecting that Baby Einstein's success is based on a canny brand name. Would the products sell so well if the brand was Virtual Babysitter, or Wishful Parent?]

“It’s not That Stupid Monkey Book?” he said, wide eyed and innocent.

I sighed, feeling guilty for having been overheard. “No, that was something mean I said. It’s called Mimi’s Toes. Would you like to read it during your bath?” I offered.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, grinning, then clutched it and ran out of the room. I suppose I should be glad he’s developed his own likes and dislikes, rather than simply internalizing my prejudices.