Author review :: Michael Perry

While browsing the "Check out our new books!" rack at the library last year, I stumbled upon a local author named Michael Perry, hailing from northwest Wisconsin.  I am always drawn to local writers, perhaps mostly because I like Wisconsin and have never felt ashamed of cows or cheese or the Green Bay Packers.  You throw in the Violent Femmes and Harley Davidson, and you've got a powerful mix of chest-swelling awesomeness right there.  So I flipped over this local author, figuratively, and read what it had to say on the back cover.  "New York Times best-selling author... a sensitive New Age Hemingway... sometimes comic, sometimes sad... the real deal."  Well, I thought, Hemingway had his moments, and the book went into the tote bag.

Book Review: Blonde

Blonde, by Joyce Carol Oates (Harper Collins, 2000), was one of the thickest books I've tackled in a long time.  Topping out at 738 pages, I found myself reading in the mornings while I waited for the washer to spin out, in the afternoons while supper was simmering, and in the evenings while Hank watched American Ninja Warrior.  It was one of those novels that pulls you in, regardless of the fact that you already know the ending, and holds you until the last chapter.  I've read several other biographies on Marilyn Monroe and knew early on that this version would erase all the glitz and expose the gritty side of Marilyn's glamorous life.

Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates

Oates' writing style is casual and flowing.  Several of the chapters are nothing but dialogue between Marilyn and Arthur Miller (her third husband).  Some sections included only Marilyn's stream of consciousness.  And throughout the entire narrative, her thoughts were interjected to give readers an understanding of her perception of the events taking place around her.  This writing style provided a well-rounded view of the whole picture while maintaining an intimate connection with Marilyn and a window into her emotional state.

Oates' did not intend the book to be biographical.  Some names were changed, and some key characters were left out altogether, most notably Lee and Paula Strasberg.  However, I believe the emotional undercurrent was true to Marilyn's life.  It is widely held that off-camera, she had no self-esteem.  She desperately needed to be loved, desperately wanted a baby, and was easily swayed by the ambitions of those around her.  On-camera she was dynamite.  Cast and crew, spell-bound, stopped and watched.  No matter their years of experience (as with Laurence Olivier or Clark Gable); no matter their purported indifference to her beauty; or their pure exasperation (aka, hatred) of unprofessionalism on set.  It was reported by all that her ability could only be classified as genius. 

This book explores her desire to balance her normal life as Norma Jean with her powerful Hollywood career as Marilyn Monroe.  Despite her scarred upbringing by a psychotic mother, followed by years in the foster system, the reader hopes against hope that this young starlet will triumph.  But as Norma Jean falls deeper into the grips of drugs and loses herself in the champagne, the reader weeps for the lost innocence and steels themselves for the next movie premiere at which Marilyn Monroe is put on display.  It is a powerful narrative and a must-read for anyone looking to round out their knowledge of her life.

Book Review: sheepish

sheepish, by Katherine Friend , Da Capo Press, 2011

sheepish is one of the best books I've read in a long time.  And by best I mean, it was lighthearted, humorous and made me want to keep it in hand while I switched loads of laundry.  As the cover states, it is a chronicle of the adventures of "two women, fifty sheep and enough wool to save the planet."  It's filled with those ridiculous stories told by first-time farmers that make us 'experienced' farmers just shake our heads in the classic, "Ah yes, my young Jedi, you too will learn..."

“As new farmers, we amused our friends and family with creative disasters.  We accidentally overdosed and nearly killed all our sheep one week.  We forgot to check the oil in the tractor engine, with quite expensive results.  Melissa nearly shish-kabobed herself when a sharp-toothed implement, called a drag, crawled up behind her on the tractor.  I cleverly planted 200 grapevines upside down.  We had to learn about sheep and duck penises.  That I even know about pizzle rot disturbs me. “

It also leans towards the educational side of shepherding, exploring the 'green' side of the wool industry and how this interrelates with today's conservationist movements.  The author reminds us how deeply sheep are felted into our culture ('felted' get it?), playing an integral part in our heritage. 

Just stop to consider how many references to this quiet little animals we have in our vocabulary: “lost sheep, black sheep, good shepherd, fleeced, pull the wool over someone’s eyes, led like a sheep to the slaughter, spinning a yarn, flocking together, gentle as a lamb, wolf in sheep’s clothing, two shakes of a lamb’s tail, dyed in the wool."

And a book on sheep would not be complete without one or two references to spinning.  That is afterall why we put up with all their sprionging (that's the technical term, says so in the book).

“Spinning’s supposed to work like this: Depress a pedal with your foot, the wheel starts spinning, the bobbin turns, the roving pulls from your hand and through a small opening, unfortunately called the orifice, and then around the bobbin.  Start the wheel spinning with your hand, then take over with the pedal while your hand gently pinches the roving so it twists and gets sucked through the orifice.

I create my own technique.  Start the wheel spinning with your hand, then push the pedal so hard the roving breaks.  Stop the wheel, curse softly, then thread the roving back through the orifice, and begin again.  I recommend repeating this step approximately twenty-seven times, or until you feel close to tears.  On the twenty-eighth attempt you get the speed right and you pinch the roving just right and the yarn begins to twist and accumulate on the bobbin in a mannerly fashion.

Yarn is supposed to be slender, and relatively uniform.  Theoretically, one pound of wool can be spun into ten miles of yarn, but not if I’m spinning.  Within a space of ten seconds, my yarn goes from the size of my thumb all the way down to dental floss, then back up to thumb-sized. “

Katherine Friend with her sheep

This is a feel good book that reminds shepherds everywhere why we love our sheep so much, why we put up with the chores, the manure, the pizzle rot.  Simply to hear a ewe's worfling on a bright, sunny morning (again, technical term) brings confirmation that we're doing something quietly wonderful.