Like Me, Chely Wright

Celebrity autobiographies are often a sanitised exercise in self-promotion. If that is what I was expecting from Chely Wright’s Like Me, it’s not surprising its first pages left me in shock.

I’ve been a Chely Wright fan for around ten years, since I discovered her album Single White Female. At the time my wife liked Faith Hill and pop influenced Country music and I was on the lookout for similar artists who might interest her. I found SWF at an HMV store in Sydney, listened to it, and bought it for myself. After that I tracked down all of her earlier albums, even the almost impossible to find first album Woman in the Moon.

It had been a few years since Chely’s last album but I remained in touch with her career through regular email newsletters. I pre-ordered both her new album and her book as soon as they were announced earlier this year and wondered what insights the book would give into her life and her career. I definitely was not prepared for what I read in the first sentence and later on the first page:

“Dear God, please don’t let me be gay.”

And

“I’m a proud Kansan, a loving daughter, sister, friend, a child of God and a lesbian.”

Those statements contain most of the elements of the book that have had me wrestling emotionally, intellectually and spiritually since I started reading her story.

The revelation that she is gay was completely unexpected. I was not exaggerating when I said earlier that I was left in shock. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been throughout her life, working in an industry she loved, knowing that she could lose everything she had worked for if the news of her homosexuality got out. And she went to great lengths to keep it secret, at times straining friendships and business relationships. The fear of being exposed could not be ignored. She particularly notes how the conservative nature of the members of her industry, and their idea of God’s view of homosexuality contributed to her fear.

On the other hand Chely developed an understanding of God that allowed her to accept who she is, even when she was not ready to share that fact with those around her. Adapting God to suit our own particular situation is perhaps a common survival move, allowing us to come to terms with who we are and what we are and at the same time maintain a sense of acceptance from the Divinity we choose to follow. Such a practice can be a strong comfort as we try to come to terms with those parts of our lives that may cause others offence.

The weakness with that strategy is that we ourselves can create and trust a Divinity based on our own subjective needs instead of trusting a real God with a firm and objective foundation. Needs-based faith is a growing reality within a society where each person determines what is truth for themselves, not requiring a standard outside of their own experience and desires to give their “truth” a secure foundation. The irony of this is that the initial idea of God has usually come from an outside source – whether it is from a church, from the bible, or from a cultural viewpoint; but that initial idea is merely used as a starting point for something that suits us personally: a God that can be shaped and moulded to suit our own requirements. The source of that initial awareness of God can be abandoned for something more suitable to our human need, taking us away from a God who has his own demands and expectations.

But can such a God give any genuine security beyond providing a temporary sense of self-justification? What lasting value is a God who can be changed according to our own whim? More than once Chely states that God made her the way she is. Is God so contrary? Or is it more likely to be our human nature that is fickle, wanting to cling to both God and those things He (according to the Bible) is said to abhor.

Chely refers to several occasions where discussions in her presence were focused on God’s condemnation of homosexuality. Homosexuality seems to be a favoured target when the sins of society are being addressed by professed, bible believing Christians, and while the bible does condemn it, surprisingly it gets far fewer mentions than more common, accepted and even popular behaviours. Maybe there is more than a little hypocrisy at play when a person’s sexuality is condemned by someone who has a serious problem with greed. There are for more condemnatory references to covetousness and the love of money than there are to homosexuality. It is all too easy for the “straight” but greedy Christian to point at a gay individual and “thank God that I am not like that person”. (seeLuke 18:11).

I accept that Chely has every right to reveal whatever she chooses of her own life, opening herself up to scrutiny, but I felt she overstepped the mark in making revelations about others. While expressing contrition over the way she treated fellow country singer Brad Paisley with whom she had a relationship for a time; exposing the fact that the relationship included a sexual element perhaps showed a continued lack of respect for Paisley’s feelings and privacy. Kiss and tell confessions where participants are named may give some gratification to the reader and writer, but they demonstrate little concern for the other party involved. Wasn’t it bad enough to involve Paisley in such a relationship when it was known that his strong feelings could never be reciprocated, without later publicly spilling those intimate details?

While a lot of the book deals with the struggle she faced over her sexuality, to me some of the more interesting parts of the book were those that describe her trips to entertain troops in places like Iraq. She experienced situations that brought the reality and tragedy of war to life. From meeting and finding common ground with a soldier merely days before he is killed, to being transported on an HR (human remains) flight with the coffin of another casualty at her feet, her trips were far from the glamour usually associated with show business.

I had seen some of the events she describes in a DVD of "home movies" that came with one of her CDs. The book helped to give a clearer perspective of some of the footage of a performance for thousands of troops in Baghdad where she and Kid Rock shared vocal duties.

This book is a very personal opening of the heart from a person who through fear hid the truth for most of her life. Most of us could never understand what it is like to live such a life where secrecy and half truths seem mandatory. How can a person have dreams and the ability to achieve them when such a central aspect of their life is condemned or made the subject of jokes by the majority of those around them?

I was saddened by the struggle she experienced. I think I’ve been made a little more aware of the difficulties faced by people like Chely who not only have to cope with the way society perceives them, but also with the desire for normality. To be accepted for who they are. Not wanting to stand out and be perceived as different in a negative way.
This story is one of an individual person struggling to be accepted, and to accept herself, as she is. But to me the real sadness relates to the way ideas about God are manipulated to support a human agenda. How He is used to justify both bigotry and human desire. In all of this HIS desires and HIS demands get pushed aside and He is made a tool to suit OUR needs.

Whatever happened to the Almighty God, creator of heaven and earth who was once feared and respected as well as loved?
We didn’t like that kind of God so we replaced Him with another who is cuddlier and more likely to bend His ways to suit us.

The Road, Cormac McCarthy.

This is an aptly named book concentrating on journey rather than destination, a kind of aimless travelling with no logical place to go. It portrays the confusion and pointlessness resulting from an "apocalyptic" catastrophe. Few have survived, and those who have, desperately resort to whatever it takes to cling to what life is left.
McCarthy’s world in The Road is a world with no hope and no future. It is a world of violence and cannibalism, a world where memory and dreams of the past merely add to the torment experienced by the survivors: Reminders of a world and security that cannot be reclaimed.

It is the story of a father taking his son towards the coast. The only reason for this seems to be to escape the approaching winter and to take care of their immediate survival from the elements. Beyond that there seems to be no purpose. The father motivates his son through combination of fear and hope. Fear of the bad guys and the hope of meeting up with the good guys – however when driven by fear and suspicion how can someone take the chance to distinguish between the two?

The most telling observation comes at the end of the book where the son is advised to stay away from the road – as if the whole journey along “the road” has been misguided. And for me that pointlessness of the journey seemed to apply to my reading experience. It wasn’t the kind of book that kept me wanting to read. When I put it down I wasn’t desperate to pick it up again. Its main saving grace, and the reason I was able to persevere, was the fact that it is divided into short segments which made it easier to tackle. When I picked it up I felt I didn’t need to commit to a lengthy spell of reading at each sitting. This made it seem there was less of a chore ahead of me than would have been the case had I needed to tackle long chapters.

Once again I found myself at odds with the literary critics who seem to be unified in their praise of the book. While I felt parts of it expressed keen insights, on the whole I wondered why I bothered to continue reading.
The term “post-apocalyptic” was used to describe the book’s setting. In using that term critics wrongly applied a term that has biblical origins. They fell for the common usage of “apocalypse”, describing the ultimate destruction of the world and human society. That usage is a misapplication of the biblical reference to the last book of the bible, The Apocalypse of Jesus Christ, more commonly known today as The Book of Revelation.

The word apocalypse does not refer to destruction; it refers to revealing or unveiling, and in its biblical context it specifically refers to the ultimate revealing of Jesus Christ as humanity’s Saviour and Judge at the climax of current human history.
This climax does include massive widespread destruction throughout the earth as God finally deals with evil in the world, but that destruction is not the focal point. The emphasis is on Jesus Christ taking His rightful place in His creation as King of kings and Lord of lords and then ruling over all of it with perfect Justice.

I guess it’s not surprising that the term “apocalypse” has been redefined in such a negative way. To the majority, those who continue to wilfully resist their creator, the genuine apocalypse would not be a thing to eagerly desire. To them it will be a time of destruction and despair instead of the intended joyful, face to face meeting between man and God. To them the apocalypse (or revelation) holds no ultimate hope.

McCarthy’s metaphorical use of the “road” is possibly more appropriate than he realised. We all follow a road and most do so aimlessly, not knowing where their road is heading. The choice of road is ours, but is our choice made solely with the journey itself in mind or should we also take into account the destination?

“… wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it.”
(Matthew 7:13-14)

Blackout by Connie Willis

What more desirable tool could historians dream of than the ability to travel through time to observe people and events for themselves instead of relying on texts and artefacts? Connie Willis has created a world in which this tool is a reality and is being used by Oxford based historians.
She introduced this concept in her Hugo and Nebula award winning novel Doomsday Book, a merging of science fiction with the historical novel. She has now returned to the ideas of that earlier book with a two volume story that starts with the recently released Blackout and will conclude with All Clear, due later in the year.

In Blackout historians are studying various aspects of life in the Second World War. One is studying evacuees, children sent away from areas of danger in the cities to the relative safety of the country. Another is focusing on the life of the “shop girl” in London during the Blitz and a third has been sent to cover the heroes of Dunkirk who set out in small boats to rescue British troops trapped on the beaches of France.
All of these projects should run reasonably smoothly. It is assumed that the laws of Time Travel prevent them from having significant impact on the events they observe, but it’s not long before that assumption is challenged.

One of the difficult things in writing about a book like this, is avoiding giving away any key plot details that will spoil the experience for anyone who has not read the book so I'll avoid specific references to events in the story. It was the desire to find out what happens next that made this book such an addictive read as I got more involved with the characters and the challenges they face.

At first I struggled with the story but as I gained more familiarity with the characters and their situations, the book became one that I was desperate to return to whenever my reading was interrupted by the unwelcome intrusion of real life. Willis uses a common technique of cutting from one set of characters to another at each chapter break, often leaving each section with a “cliff-hanger” making the reader more eager to read on to find out how it is resolved.

As mentioned Blackout is only the first part of the story, I knew this before I started the book, but I was still disappointed when I came to the end without the satisfaction of a conclusion. Against expectation the book didn’t end dramatically, it ended with a whimper. I feel it would have been much stronger had it ended a chapter or two earlier.

Early in the book I found myself being pulled out of the story a few times by little irregularities. I’m sure a lot of this comes down to personal idiosyncrasies and probably other readers wouldn’t think twice about them and this may be why I struggled with it a little at first.
One thing that irritated was the occasional lapse into inappropriate Americanisms – for example, cars were often referred to as “automobiles”, a term that I’m sure was not used by the British in war time. Having lived in England until the age of 13, and having parents who lived through the period detailed in the book, little things like this became minor irritations.
Admittedly Willis is an American author and her main readership would be American – but to a non-American, former English reader, such lapses broke the illusion of the reality being portrayed.

Another grievance I had with the early part of the book relates to something I’ve seen described as “build up and pay off”. This is a technique in which significant plot points are built upon foundations that have been set up in advance. For example, if a character saves himself by shooting an enemy, it is necessary to establish the fact that a gun is available for him to use before it comes into play.
In the case of Blackout, a significant part of the plot involves “time lag”, tiredness similar to jetlag which can cause intense sleepiness. The first time I recall this happening in the book was when the experience completely changed a character’s situation. It was mentioned again a little later in relation to a second character where the experience had very little impact.
Structurally I think the story would have been significantly strengthened if these two experiences had been reversed, allowing the minor situation to prepare the reader for the case when time lag played an important part in the first character’s experience.

By making these critical observations I don’t want to diminish the fact that Blackout is a very enjoyable book. The characters are well portrayed and their wartime experiences are believably vivid. I am very keenly waiting for the release of All Clear so that I can re-enter their world and share their experiences again.
In the mean time I’ve been inspired to find out more about war time Britain and I am realising how little my generation (and those following) can conceive of the horrific realities of a war only 15 years before I was born.
Today I checked the casualty figures of American troops in Iraq. In seven years almost four and a half thousand of them have been killed. While these figures are certainly tragic, such casualty figures AND HIGHER were common on a DAILY basis during WWII – many of them being civilians.

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I acknowledge and thank Allen & Unwin, the Australian publishers of this book, for providing me with a review copy.

Rich Mixture by Stuart Haywood

Stuart Haywood’s book has a nostalgic appeal. I spent my childhood in the area he describes and I lived less than a kilometre from his childhood home a couple of decades later.
I was familiar with most of the places he describes, either though my own experience or through stories my parents have shared over the years.

I left South Derbyshire when my family moved to Australia and have never lost my interest in that area, although I am the only one of my family not to return for a holiday. From what I have heard, the place I remember has changed significantly and I probably wouldn’t recognise much of it.

Rich Mixture describes parts of the region as I remember it, helping me to recall details I had forgotten. Those moments of familiarity and being able to picture the places being described were the source of most of the pleasure I found in this book. And it made me think about the possibility of recording my own memories of childhood.

Stuart Haywood has an article about his wartime childhood here:
http://www.bygonederbyshire.co.uk/stories/Stuart-s-wartime-childhood-Newhall/article-1796888-detail/article.html

Chocolate and Zucchini

I’ve been reading Chocolate and Zucchini by Clotilde Dusoulier, a Parisian food blogger. The success of her blog led to the publishing of her book with the same name.

While the book is mostly a collection of recipes, I have been enjoying the introductions she has written in which she gives the story behind each dish, they have a wonderful personal quality that makes one feel like a friend instead of a distanced reader.
For an idea of her writing style, rather give a selection of quotes, I recommend a visit to the Chocolate and Zucchini blog. http://chocolateandzucchini.com/

While there are many recipes in the book that don’t appeal to me – anything containing fish for example – there are a few that I would love to try. Maybe they will be the stimulus I need to take charge of the kitchen myself, giving Gloria a break from food preparation.

One of my favourites has been waiting for suitably cold weather before I even think of attempting it. Clotilde’s Beef Bourguignon lists chocolate as one of its ingredients, and any recipe with chocolate sounds all right to me (as long as it doesn’t include fish).

For some reason when I ordered the book from my local book shop they obtained the American edition instead of the one intended for Australian readers (the British edition). Therefore the names of some ingredients and the quantities used are the American terms instead of those that are more familiar to me. I also understand that there are a few differences in the recipes included in the different editions. Fortunately, being a part of the greater American Empire ruled from Hollywood, I have enough familiarity with the American terminology for this not to be a great problem.

(And did I mention I don’t like fish?)

Foxeys Hangout

It’s hard to believe but I’ve now read two books in a row that have maintained my interest and have kept me wanting to read. Two books in a row that had me returning to them at every available opportunity, and the difference in content could hardly have been greater.
One was an SF/Fantasy title written for “young adults” (see previous post), the other almost defies genre, being part memoir, part history, part cook book.

Foxeys Hangout is Cathy Gowdie’s account of her family moving from Melbourne to establish a winery on the Mornington Peninsula. Wine making wasn’t a completely new venture. They had already established a small vineyard in the region and wine from their grapes had been produced for them by other winemakers. It was marketed under the label “Foxeys Hangout” named after a landmark near their vineyard.

The whole idea of this book appealed to me from the time I read a review in a food and wine magazine. Gowdie’s family brought to reality a lifestyle I can only dream about. Growing grapes and making wine has a very romantic appeal to those who want to overlook the realities of hard work and the uncertainties of growing any kind of crop. It’s easy to envy a lifestyle of sitting on the veranda, sipping wine made from your own grapes as you watch the sun setting beyond rows and rows of healthy vines.
But I’ve now done enough vineyard work to understand that reality is far different from the idyllic scenario I described above.

Foxeys Hangout shows both sides of the picture: the joys of rural life, and also the realities of a WORKING rural life.
The family faced several problems after buying their property, intending to develop part of it into a winery and restaurant. Their plans were delayed when objections made to the local council effectively put an end to their idea of building and running the restaurant. Ironically, many of the objections didn’t come from fulltime local residents who made a living from the land; they came from the part-timers, those who had purchased properties as weekend escapes from the busyness of city life. Those who saw the farming countryside as a quiet retreat instead of work places providing their food and drink.

As well as detailing the family’s experiences, Gowdie also investigates the background of her new home. From the history of the landmark after which the wine label was named, to a local, historical murder mystery, she weaves diverse strands together into an original cohesive collection of stories. The uniting factor is Foxeys Hangout, a tree from which fox hunters hung the corpses of their victims, a practice which continued until the 1980s, creating a gruesome memorial for the introduced pest that was the bane of local farmers.

Gowie divided her book into monthly sections and ends each section with a seasonal recipe. These dishes are among those that the family serve to customers who visit their cellar door. While plans for the restaurant may have fallen through, this setback didn’t prevent the desire to serve quality food to complement the wines being produced. Gowie’s husband is a qualified chef as well as grape grower and wine maker. Such focused drive and commitment is clearly the decisive factor that divides dreamers like me from achievers like them.


The wine lable's website is here:
http://www.foxeys-hangout.com.au/

Richard Harland’s Worldshaker.

Before I write anything else I have to confess to two areas of apparent “vested interest”. Firstly Richard Harland was one of my lecturers/tutors at University in the early 1990s and he wrote me a very generous reference when I was looking for work afterwards. Secondly, in the mid 90s I worked for Allen & Unwin, the publisher of Worldshaker, for about a year and a half.
(Richard’s website also had a part in inspiring me to create this blog which is why I have a link to it in the sidebar.)

While this may appear to give me reasons for bias, I will also add that for one essay, Richard gave me the lowest mark I ever received for any assignment during my whole time at University (and I still remember after 19 years!!!), and A & U relocated my job to another city so I had to leave them and find work elsewhere in a less stimulating environment. So we can pretend that the positives have been cancelled out and a balance of neutrality has been restored.

Worldshaker was a book I didn’t want to leave. I read it at every opportunity and was disappointed when I reached the end. It’s the kind of book that demonstrates why continuing series of novels can be so successful. It is a book that creates a world and characters so interesting that you want to explore and experience them some more.

Harland has created an alternative history, a world where the industrial innovation and creativity of the Victorian era has taken a huge leap beyond the bridge and shipbuilding wonders of I K Brunel. In this world political necessity has driven steam age technology to achieve far grand goals than was the case in the “real” Victorian age.

Worldshaker is a massive “juggernaut”, part ship, part tank, part earthmoving excavator, which houses and employs citizens of various fixed classes. Perhaps a comparison could be made to futuristic stories of massive star-ships transporting nation sized communities through space – except juggernaut communities are earthbound and restricted to Victorian age technology.

Colbert Porpentine, heir in waiting to Worldshaker’s Supreme Commander, is thrown into contact with a girl who has entered his room to hide from the authorities. She is a member of the lowest of the low, a “filthy. A reflex decision not to expose the girl’s forbidden presence puts Col’s privileged position at risk and leads him to discover the price that others continually pay to maintain the lifestyle of the Juggernaut’s elite classes.

Worldshaker has what I consider to be a novel’s most essential qualities: strongly believable characters that I care about; an exciting storyline with interesting and original ideas and on a more practical level - short chapters.
I have found long chapters can be a stumbling block to successful reading. It is a major reason I’ve always struggled with Lord of the Rings. By the time I finish one long chapter, the task of reading another of similar length can seem too daunting, especially when other things are competing for my time. With shorter chapters it is easy to read “just one more chapter” several times in succession until a significant portion of the book has been read.

Worldshaker would be classed as a Young Adult title and it was a pleasure to read a book untarnished by the presence of graphic sex and foul language. From recent experience, books that don’t resort to such devices are becoming increasingly hard to find.