Hello, bluestockings.
Instead of a longer reflection here at the top, I’m going to share a few things that are bringing me joy:
This Spotify playlist : acoustic, folky pensive vibes make perfect background music.
This $11 Tunic I bought yesterday at Walmart because it was so soft. As I’m writing, I am currently wearing it and think it’s going to be my new winter weekend uniform, along with my softest light gray leggings. (Noah said I looked like Steve Jobs.) I like the tunic cut because it’s a bit roomy and covers my butt. Unfortunately, it looks mostly sold out online, but maybe your local store will have them?
Hot Cinnamon Sunset Black Tea Thanks to my friend Meredith, I’m a huge PG Tipps fan. But occasionally I want something a little different, and this tea packs a warm, strong cinnamon punch.
Lindsay’s daily Lenten reflections on Instagram. Lindsay is an incredible writer. Please click over to read her caption.
Kate C. Bowler’s Lenten reflections, which I’ve been watching everyday. She’s so real. Here’s a quote from the video linked below: “Things are always wonderful and terrible at the same time, and holding the duality of that is what we have to practice, not just knowing things are awful.”
Last but certainly not least in things I’m thinking about and want to share with you is Texas:
To my friends who live in Texas and to everyone who has loved ones in Texas: I’m thinking of you, and so sorry you had to deal with this mess.
To anyone who, like me, wants to be more informed about the causes of the Blackout in Texas, I’d highly recommend this episode of the Daily podcast.
To anyone who wants to help but isn’t sure what to do or where to donate, I donated to Together Rising. I also trust Episcopal Relief & Development, and have seen a lot of mutual aid posts on Instagram you could check out.
Soft Cinnamon Rolls
My friend Dana turned me onto these. Unlike the cinnavances recipe I shared before, I especially like that they don’t require an overnight rise, and they really do seem to stay soft the next day (we didn’t have any leftovers on day two. 🤷 You can do your own experiment and let me know if any last that long!)
From a sensory point of view, rolling out this dough was a delight because it was soft like fresh Play-dough. (My mom used to make homemade Play dough and I contend it’s far superior to its store-bought peers.) I made this with the standard icing, but want to try the cream cheese icing (according to Dana, cream cheese icing for this recipe = add a stick of cream cheese to the frosting.) Here’s the recipe again.
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
I read this book for the first time as I was teaching it in one of the courses I’m lucky enough to teach this year, AP Lit. I fully understand why it is considered a classic, and am surprised I never encountered it before. I wonder if it’s been relegated to high school AP classes - or perhaps I didn’t take diverse enough lit classes to encounter it. Interestingly, though, I could not find a scholastic version (think of the Shakespeare you read in high school, which likely had embedded notes and essays in the front and back.) I’m curious about this, and wonder if it’s racism rearing its ugly ahead once more.
Invisible Man is intense in both style (surrealism) & substance (race in America.) It’s the longest novel (almost 600 pages) I have read in a while, and is the opposite of a beach read. But it’s worth your time. It’s worth your time not only because of its themes, but because Ellison’s sentence structure and deftness with prose is a masterclass in and of itself. I’m already looking forward to reading it again next year and to spending more time researching the various historical elements Ellison so deftly incorporates, like Black spirituals and the Harlem race riots and Booker T. Washington (who - unlike the “history” I was taught - was not such a great guy.)
This novel is Ellison’s seminal work, which includes thinly-veiled autobiographical elements. The protagonist is a Black man who lives in New York City, and the story structure is an extended flashback of his life: his journey from South to North, from boy to man, from innocence to experience. As our unnamed protagonist moves throughout the world, we see (although he cannot in real time) how rigged the game is against him.
At every turn he does exactly what he believes he needs to do in order to succeed, which is (not coincidentally) exactly what those in power tell him to do. At every turn he experiences the disappointment and eventual disillusionment betrayal brings. This betrayal takes the form not only of people but of institutions he thought he could trust. By the end of the book, the Invisible Man embraces his “invisibility” not as a literal reality but as a metaphor for his existence in America. He starts to view this invisibility as a superpower, yet experiences the profound loneliness that comes with it. This quote from the book’s epilogue speaks to this loneliness:
…I hibernated. I got away from it all. But that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t be still even in hibernation. Because, damn it, there’s the mind, the mind. It wouldn’t let me rest. Gin, jazz and dreams were not enough. Books were not enough. My belated appreciation of the crude joke that had kept me running, was not enough (Ellison 573).
Doesn’t this sound like many of our experiences with quarantine? (Isn’t it cool how literature can encapsulate a specific human experience in a way that speaks to a more universal experience?)
Despite my many words here, a lot of my thoughts about this book are still in formation. I wish I could put a little bow on top of my review here, but I believe one of the marks of an excellent book is that you can’t stop thinking about it, even after you finish it. You still have questions and thoughts and wonderings. After finishing Invisible Man, I am still mulling it over. Maybe that’s the highest recommendation I can make.
Felix Ever After
This book was recommended as part of the 24 in 48 Readathon I ended up not participating in that weekend, but I still picked up this book and I’m so glad I did.
Felix Ever After has all the qualities that I look for in YA: a compelling, nuanced protagonist, young love, and the “relatability” factor (by which I mean I feel I could put this book into a teenager’s hands and it would likely resonate.) I don’t just read YA because I teach high schoolers, but I am always on the lookout for highly compelling stories that represent marginalized folks and will draw in reluctant readers. This one fits the bill.
Felix is a loveable, well-rounded character who - like all of us - wants to be loved. Wants to belong. Wants to find meaning. Reading helps me find that thread of common humanity, while also highlighting areas where I have been blind to my own privilege. Reading Felix After Ever did both those things for me.
When I finished this book, I realized it was the first book I’ve read about a trans character. It’s also the first book I’m aware of reading that was written by a trans author. I’m not proud of this absence in my reading life to date, but want to name it here so I can intentionally continue to diversify my reading life. Do you have any fabulous recs for me? Let me know!
That’s it for this weekend! Hope you’re well over there in your corner of the world.
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