Examining Linguicide and Revival in How to Kill a Language

 How to Kill a Language: Power, Resistance, and the Race to Save Our Words by Sophia Smith Galer

How to Kill a Language book cover

Author and journalist Sophia Smith Galer

Many thanks to Crown Publishing and NetGalley for the advanced copy of How to Kill a Language: Power, Resistance, and the Race to Save Our Words by Sophia Smith Galer. While the book’s title reference the precarious nature of many languages throughout the world, Smith Galer’s work focuses more on the efforts to save and reclaim these languages, and the many individuals and grassroots organizations working to recruit speakers, teach and raise awareness of these languages, and to promote the language in areas where it remains a minority to other dominant languages. A few years ago, I read a great book by Ross Perlin titled Language City: The Fight to Preserve Endangered Mother Tongues in New York. Perlin, who is a linguist from NY, chronicled his efforts to work with others to preserve the speakers and written language of many of the world’s most endangered languages in NYC. Sophia Smith Galer, who is a multi-lingual journalist, details a similar effort to explore and chronicle the efforts to save endangered languages, or those she deems as threatened with linguicide, which often results from the policies and efforts of a state toward a minority language. Although Perlin’s efforts explore the many reasons why NYC is home to and in some ways furthers the endangerment of these minority languages, Smith Galer takes readers on journeys throughout the world to learn more about the places, policies, and history that have all worked to silence many of these indigenous languages and dialects, which makes How to Kill a Language not only a fascinating study of the history and cultures of these languages and their speakers, but also something of a travel book that often details the geographic features and regions that also help to shape and sometimes isolate many of these languages, making them distinct from dominant languages like English, Arabic, French, or Spanish.

Smith Galer starts her exploration of these languages and regions close to home, which is London. It may seem odd to start a story about linguicide where English is the dominant language and where many of the colonial experiments to eradicate native languages in far-away and close to home colonies originated, but her personal connection to an endangered language starts with her grandmother, or her Nonna, who spoke dialët, a language she describes as an “angry French, with some strong nasal twangs and words that end abruptly, not like Italian with its ever-flowing vowel sounds.” Geographically and nationally, Nonna was from Italy but from a mountainous region that was isolated from the more dominant Florentine Italian that became the standard for spoken Italian in the 19^th century as Italy began to unify. The differences between dialët and Italian, as well as her Nonna’s age and decreasing health prompted her to question how many dialët speakers were left, and how she could work to preserve the language.

Smith Galer’s questions and interest in preserving dialët then prompted her to further study Italian, to learn how the various regions, which all have distinct pronunciations and some entirely distinct languages like dialët, eventually settled on the Florentine Tuscan dialect as the standard. This first chapter is a fascinating framework to explore how countries and populations with power can promote their chosen language or dialect as the standard, which can bring about unity in communication, commerce, and education, but it can also push language minorities to the fringes of society, especially when a sense of privilege, politics, or promotion is assigned to the dominant language. As Smith Galer’s observations with other languages demonstrate, frequently younger generations educated in the dominant language will be less likely to speak their native language and may even view the language with a sense of shame or embarrassment. These languages then either remain around smaller, isolated regions or are only spoken at home or in secret in some cases when there are consequences to speaking or writing in the language (like the chapters on Karuk and Kurdish explore). Each subsequent chapter explores how different policies, histories, events, and movement have impacted specific languages. I loved learning about the different cultures and languages throughout the book. Each chapter serves as a kind of case study for how countries and historical events influence the linguicide- the decline of these indigenous languages. However, the Smith Galer doesn’t necessarily dwell on the demise of these languages, but also chronicles individuals, groups, and organizations who are working to keep the language alive, whether it is through online community and advocacy, translations, subversion and resistance, or education and work with younger generations of speakers. There are so many incredible stories found throughout this book that complement the well-researched historical, political, and social elements that influenced how these languages were often relegated to lesser spaces in these nations. Furthermore, Smith Galer effectively describes linguistic elements of the language, making familiar references where possible or clearly defining the spoken, written, and communicative aspects of these languages for non-technical or linguistic oriented audiences. The chapters focus on Śhert, which I’m struggling to write accurately in word, an Arabian language spoken in regions in Oman; Ukrainian and its resistance to the Russianization of its language in Ukraine; Ladino, a fascinating Spanish derived language spoken by Sephardic Jews who were expelled from Spain after the Reconquista and ended up in Greece and Turkey, adapting the elements of these languages and some others; Karuk, an indigenous Californians from the Klamath area. While all of the stories featured upsetting stories of colonialism and conquest that led to the loss of language, Smith Galer details how many of the tribal Karuk were sent to notorious Indian schools in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries where speaking their native languages was often physically punished, creating a sense of fear and shame among the speakers that nearly wiped out the language and traditions of the Karuk people. Yet stories like the Karuk also feature dedicated community members like Julian Lang who helped to start a Master-Apprentice language program that created time, space, and lessons for older and younger speakers to meet in order to continue passing on the language to the next generations. It’s a fascinating look into the kind of grassroots efforts that are maintaining these languages for future generations, but as Smith Galer notes in her conclusion, the work of these dedicated individuals and groups may not be enough to sustain these languages without future policies and resources like government funding (the Karuk program receives funding through California). The book also explores Kurdish and the efforts of countries like Iran and Turkey to criminalize and punish Kurdish speakers. I also liked learning about Kichwa, an indigenous language from Ecuador as well as Peru. This was also a fascinating way to see how community members work to include language instruction and ensure future generations are speaking these indigenous languages, even recruiting pregnant mothers and encouraging them to speak to their unborn children. Interestingly, there’s a chapter on the kind of revival that Hebrew experienced with zionism, and how the demand for Hebrew only speaking in Israel has created further tension with speakers of other languages. It’s also a fascinating look at how a language that was deemed for religious purposes only became the lingua franca of a country. The last chapter was equally fascinating as it detailed Dagbani, a language from Ghana, a country that has nearly 80 distinct languages, but uses English as the official language. This chapter was also fascinating to learn more about how a country with so many different languages can often ignore these indigenous languages and fail to support them when their focus is on STEM studies or arts related to languages like French or English.  Smith Galer returns to dialët, and visits the region her Nonna was from to learn more about where and how this language that shares more qualities with French than Italian originated. This chapter offered some further insight into how regions and geography can lead to language development and variations, and how practices like education and policies can impact the further speaking of these languages.

How to Kill a Language is a fascinating and insightful book, where readers are able to learn not only about these different languages but how countries and governments can impose policies, education, and other measures that can bring about the demise of languages. Nevertheless, the book also offers hope in detailing the efforts of groups and individuals who are working to maintain and transmit these languages to future generations. If you enjoy learning about different cultures, languages, histories, or regions of the world, this book will be a great read. Recommended! 

Converging Counterpoints into Harmony: Music Against the Night by Yiyun Li

 Music Against the Night by Yiyun Li

Music Against the Night book cover

Author Yiyun Li

Many thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for sending me an advanced copy of Yiyun Li’s exquisite new book Music Against the Night. Li, among the most gifted and lauded novelists and short story writers today, doesn’t just craft a compelling world of two artists learning the vocabulary and instrumentation of their art, but rather orchestrates a world where these two characters’ stories converge after their exiles and journeys from modest, if not precocious, beginnings. Luckily, readers are able to inhabit this world that Li composes much like they were immersed in a symphony hall, beset by the emotional timbres of the various sections, eliciting a range of emotions as John Field and Adelaide Percheron struggle against social, financial, and imposed expectations, using music as their lingua franca.

I wasn’t familiar with John Field, who was a real Irish composer, credited with creating the nocturne, although Chopin is more recognized for this style of composition. Field was born in Dublin, and due to his musical family, was touted as a prodigy, with his father and grandfather hoping that he would become the next Mozart. As a result, the family moved to England to further his musical development, recognizing that common theme about escape and exile from Ireland, and seeking artistic growth and development in England and the continent. The first part of the book, which consists of four alternating sections that examine the early lives of John and Adelaide, focuses on John’s life and the undue expectations of being a child prodigy. These were some of the most sensitive and touching moments in the book, where we encounter John as a child, who struggles against the memories of an older brother, also named John, who didn’t survive infancy. In fact, we learn as much about John’s family dynamics and the high infant mortality rates of 18^th century Ireland, discovering how these dead siblings remain a part of the family, like a broken chord pattern sustaining the melancholic, rhythmic foundation of a nocturne. One of my favorite parts of this section is when John discovers the hidden music in objects, finding that crosses in a nearby cemetery evoke a music only he can hear. He finds similar inspiration in the soot-o-sweep songs that young chimney sweepers in Dublin cry to advertise their work, listening above the city’s din as their cries gradually recede into a “weep”, possibly a reference to Blake’s “Chimney Sweeper” poem. I loved the way Li has Field find inspiration among his daily Dublin life, finding meaning and emotion in everyday occurrences. It made me wonder whether Li also experiences as a similar feeling of seeing the extraordinary in the everyday, but it’s also a reminder in how we may often overlook what is sublime and pleasurable in what others neglect to notice.

The sections of the book alternate between John’s journey from Dublin to England and Adelaide Percheron’s challenges growing up as an orphan under her shrewd grandmother’s care in Pondicherry, a coastal city in southern India under French colonial rule. Just as we learn about John Field’s family’s tragedies, we also learn about the tragedies of Adelaide’s mother, who also seemed to be haunted by a lost child like John’s mother. However, Adelaide, who eventually acquires the nickname Percherette, was descended from a grandmother whose “tangled web of Portuguese, Dutch, Arab and Tamil” seemed to mark Percherette as neither French nor Indian, leaving her identity and future somewhat ambiguous and predetermined. “Adelaide was often reminded by her aunts and the ayahs that she was not French but a mixed-blooded girl. Her hair was course and unruly, her eyes neither blue like a French girl’s nor dark and deep like her cousin’, but a blend of brown and green, dirty and lusterless.” Although she Percherette grows up to inhabit and use her ambiguity to redefine herself, eventually moving to Paris, she sees others attempts to label and limit her opportunities in Pondicherry as a kind of death or paralysis, where escape is the only option. Her grandmother, Leonora, also sees something in Percherette that is different, whether it is her intelligence or appearance, that prompts Leonora to devote more attention and special conversations to Percherette. While Leonora has meeting times with all the grandchildren under her care, it seems that her time with Percherette is more instructional, devoted to lessons in communication, expressions, and finding ways to extract information or concessions from others. Like John managing the burdens of expectations that come with being labeled a prodigy, Percherette is battling with the consequences of low expectations as a woman and someone who is not fully European. I enjoyed these sections as well, as they provide a kind of counterpoint in the novel to John’s experience, where we see how despite the difference in expectations, we recognize the unfair burdens often foisted on children that can impact their futures in ways we may not intend. Despite the differences, Li’s development of the characters and world building for Pondicherry establishes a harmonic relationship between Percherette and John, where they both escape their seemingly provincial backgrounds for greater expectations.

Parts three and four both focus on John and Percherette as they journey to England and Paris respectively and develop new friendships and tutelage that leave them with indelible experiences. John eventually ends up studying with Muzio Clementi in England, while Percherette ends up on a ship bound for France with colleagues of her father, despite the disapproval of Leonora. Again, the characters act as a counterpoint, with John devoting himself to his studies with Clementi and Percherette defying the standards and expectations to gain escape to the excitement of Paris. Clementi, who like John and Adelaide, was a real person, was one of my favorite characters in the book. I knew of him from my kids’ piano studies, along with Carl Czerny, who also appears in the book as almost the antithesis of Clementi. Both Clementi and Czerny were musicians and educators, but where Clementi comes across as an innovative and enterprising musician, recognizing the importance of developing both a name and a persona, Czerny seems to have established more of a mechanical, soulless production line of etudes, which my kids can attest are truly the bane of piano studies. John visits Czerny in a later incident when he is seeking some respite after being away from Russia. I wasn’t sure if anything in Li’s own piano studies, which she describes in her recent book Things in Nature Merely Grow, helped her characterize these two different noted piano educators. While I found it humorous in some ways, Clementi is the one character who truly nurtures the brilliance and talent in John, enabling him to not only become a skilled and notable performer at a young age, but also to develop the compositional skills that allowed him to establish nocturnes. These later chapters also detail the time away from their homes and families, and how John and Percherette establish new companionships, John with the composer George Pinto and Percherette with a girl named Fortunée. The similarities and differences in their experiences further the counterpoints of love and loss that motivate and haunt John and Percherette.

While I haven’t read everything by Yiyun Li, the novels that I’ve read are an immersive experience where I feel fully attuned to the worlds she’s composed. Whether it’s the cold, harsh world of The Vagrants that evoked chill and isolation of a small village in Cultural Revolution era China or the complicated intensity of childhood friendships in The Book of Goose, Li composes powerful narratives that function as counterpoints, harmonizing two emotionally complex stories to creative a cohesive relationship that is established with the prelude or coda, announcing John’s death to his estranged wife Percherette. Like Agnès in Book of Goose, we see how expectations and precociousness can have a conflicting impact on one’s development. John, who is encouraged to lie about his age and whose grandfather co-authors his earliest musical compositions with him, reminded me a lot of the challenges that Agnès experienced in becoming a published writer and having more opportunities. Similarly, we see how the complicated and intense relationships we have as children, like Agnès and Fabienne, John and George, and Percherette and Fortunée. I also thought about the nature of identity throughout this book, as both John and Percherette have their identities shaped largely by others when they are younger, choosing their names and ages, while also seeking out opportunities and futures for them, much like Mrs. Townsend is for Agnès, as more of a dictator seeking to impose an identity on her rather than allowing her identity to develop and emerge naturally. I felt like both John and Percherette deal with the burden of expectations, both great and limited, in how others perceive them. However, it’s Li’s writing, all aspects of her writing, that made this book so immersive and evocative, like the cross’s that call out to John and inspire him to hear what others cannot. It’s a sadness, but also the recognition of the beauty in the everyday experiences and observations, especially those that others may fail to notice. Furthermore, Music Against the Night also has a throwback feel to it in that it feels like a classic novel from Dickens or Dostoyevsky, filled with ancillary family members and characters (and lots of wonderful parenthetical asides that provide further insight into these often historical figures). I was initially upset that the book ended, wanting more from John and Percherette’s relationship, but then I realized that Music Against the Night is only the first part in a trilogy, so I’m hopeful that the next two parts will help explain how John ended up in Russia, tutoring Tolstoy’s mother in piano, and how he and Percherette progressed in their relationship from piano student and teacher to lovers, spouses, and then estranged. We get some information from the interludes between the alternating parts of the novel, but I’m anticipating more to the story of John and Percherette.

Yiyun Li mentioned that it was through reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace that she first learned about John Field, and Music Against the Night is an ambitious and immersive look into the world of his development as a forgotten innovator in music. We also learn about the artistic development of his wife, a woman who was able to compose and play the pianoforte without any formal musical training. Music Against the Night also explores the theme of escape and exile, and how these can often be necessary for further artistic development or even survival. Music Against the Night is a wonderful read that I couldn’t put down, wanting to continue to learn more about how John and Percherette ended up together and estranged. I’m eagerly anticipating the next movements in this trilogy, yet this is a book that I could see rereading to find other melodies that emerge from Li’s exquisite prose. Highly recommended! 

Examining the Significance and Controversies of Paul Simon's Graceland (33 1/3)

 Paul Simon's Graceland (33 1/3 Africa) by Kalvin Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh 

Paul Simon's Graceland cover

Author Kalvin Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of one of the latest entries into the 33 1/3 series. As the series has expanded to focus on music from different regions of the world, this entry is from the Africa series and focuses on Paul Simon’s Graceland. Although the album is by a famed American musician, Paul Simon, Graceland remains an iconic and celebratory album for featuring many African and specifically South African musicians who were not well known to many American audiences due to the restrictions imposed on South Africa’s apartheid government and the not-yet invented genre of “world music”. In fact, as author Kalvin Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh examines the album, Graceland was largely responsible for helping to popularize this genre that incorporated music from other countries, which often featured traditional instruments, cultural melodies and rhythms, and lyrics frequently song in languages other than English. Although Graceland is often celebrated as a landmark album, Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh explores some of the questionable practices that Simon engaged in to take full writing credits and denying royalties to many of the musicians who collaborated on the album and were integral to shaping the sound. As a result, Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh provides a critical analysis of the creation and content of the album, providing readers (and listeners) with a well-rounded view of the plaudits and problems with this iconic 80s album.

While I’m not a huge Paul Simon fan, I do remember this album and having a copy of the cassette that I obtained from the Columbia House Record Club (a penny for 12 tapes). The album wasn’t one of my favorites from that collection, but I loved “You Can Call Me Al” and many of the songs were unlike other music that I was familiar with. Just as Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh explains, this album was much different from Simon’s other music and much of the music that was popular during the 1980s. However, Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh provides some examples of Simon’s own forays into genre music, with a reggae themed album in the early 1970s that enlisted Jimmy Cliff’s band and resulted in a hit song “Mother and Child Reunion”. I enjoyed learning that Simon struggled with adapting to the rhythms of reggae and seemed challenged by the Jamaican musicians he worked with. While it shows that Simon was exploratory and experimental, it also possibly demonstrates his potential to appropriate music from other cultures to sell records, a charge that Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh revisits in the later chapters of the book after Graceland’s release.

In addition, I didn’t know that Paul Simon was married to Carrie Fisher, and that Graceland was the album that followed his divorce from the actress. As Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh mentions, the divorce left Simon rather dejected and depressed, and it was through a friend sending him some zydeco and accordion music that piqued Simon’s interest in the music of South Africa. While Simon sought to learn more about the music of South Africa, it’s important to remember that artists were largely not allowed to perform there due to its apartheid system of government. In fact, many businesses also boycotted South Africa, so Simon had to figure out how to work with these musicians. In any event, he was able to establish a diverse group of musicians not just from South Africa, but from other African nations who were able to contribute to the sound of the album.

Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh then goes to explore the album’s tracks and analyze the lyrical and musical content. I appreciated this analysis as Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh takes the time to not just examine the lyrical content (despite not having copyright access to the lyrics), but also the rhythms, melodies, and other musical components of the tracks to provide an in depth and detailed analysis of the music. Furthermore, Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh also analyzes the cover art work, which is a 15^th century image of Saint George, from Ethiopia. Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh explores the significance of this choice to represent an Ethiopian artist on the cover, but also a Christian saint who is largely represented and symbolic for many different cultures and countries, providing a kind of global appeal to many different audiences.

While Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh explores the cultural significance of the album, he also notes the controversy in the album as its recording process violated the boycott of working in South Africa, although Simon claimed he was supporting and working with the artists and not the government. What was more troubling, though, was that Simon selectively shared songwriting credits on some of the tracks, but kept sole writing credits for most of the songs on the album. This caused some friction with some of the musicians who claimed that their music and compositions largely crafted the sound and lyrical content of the songs, as Simon would often pen lyrics after the music was finished. In particular, Los Lobos, who didn’t perform on the album, claimed that they worked in the studio to generate ideas, but were ultimately not included in the final recording; however, part of their music was used in one of the songs, which resulted in some hard feelings for the band. It’s hard to imagine that Los Lobos, who were not well known at the time, would challenge a major artist like Paul Simon, but Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh’s reporting shows how Simon used the large record company system to his benefit to create this album. It left me somewhat cynical about this album; while I recognize its importance in widening the scope and sound of world artists, helping to usher in and bring attention to artists from different cultures and countries, it does seem like Simon took advantage of the system that rewards famous artists and didn’t necessarily compensate the artists he collaborated with appropriately. While Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh notes that many of the artists were able to tour with Simon and eventually establish recording contracts and tours of their own, it still seems like they were largely left out of the benefits from a culturally significant album like Graceland.

I enjoyed reading this entry into the 33 1/3 series, and Schmidt-Rimpler Dinh’s analysis of all facets of the album- from composition to rhythm and lyrics and its controversies- helped me appreciate and re-evaluate the album. Recommended!  

A Great Book for Summer Vacation- Don't Go There: A Tour of the World's Most Sinister Spots

 Don't Go There: A Tour of the World's Most Sinister Spots by J. W. Ocker

Don't Go There book cover

Traveler and author J. W. Ocker

Many thanks to Quirk Books and NetGalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of J.W Ocker’s latest entry into eerie-themed tourism Don’t Go There: A Tour of the World’s Most Sinister Spots. I’ve previously read Ocker’s The United States of Cryptids, where he explores each state’s unique creature or cryptid, and Cult Following, where details some of the most notorious cults from recent times, and explores the psychology of those who joint the cults. Don’t Go There is like both books in that Ocker explores areas and locations around the world and dives into the history, events, and culture that have created a sense of fear, dread, and curiosity about some of these spaces. Ocker’s writing is more than just informational in that he provides detailed descriptions and narrative like insight into the events that led to these areas becoming cursed or haunted, adapting the history to something more entertaining and engaging, while also keeping a skeptical perspective on the rational explanations behind the mysteries and unexplained phenomena related to these places.

Ocker organizes the areas into different groups: Fearsome Forests, Wretched Waters, Insane Islands, Deadly Deserts, Risky Ruins, and Spooky Snowscapes, and provides a useful list for further reading. I appreciated this organization as he is able to draw some parallels between the environments or conditions that helped lead to these issues. I really appreciated the fact that he’s writing about some of the places that I’ve always wanted to visit, including Centralia, PA, which I’ve been obsessed with since first reading about it more than 20 years ago. This was one of the places that Ocker has actually visited, so it was interesting to read about his own experiences and observations while visiting this town famous for its underground fire that continues to burn. While Centralia has a natural explanation for its infernal reputation, other places remain the subject of public curiosity because of mysterious events tied to their location. These include places like The Pine Barrens in NJ, Skinwalker Rance in Utah, Mount Shasta in CA, and the Bermuda Triangle. Ocker details the legends, myths, and strange events associated with these places, and often offers rational explanations for the events. Other possibly lesser known places are also of interest including Aokigahara, the Bridgewater Triangle, Isla de las Muñecas, and Dudleytown. I loved learning about these places, and since I’ll probably never be able to visit the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, it’s interesting to read more about it and how the nuclear accident has created interesting conditions for new plants and animals to grow, and fueled urban legends and a new kind of tourism industry in exploring this site. I also recently visited Paris and was disappointed to learn that the catacombs were closed when we visited. Not that my family would join me in exploring this underground necropolis, but Ocker’s reporting and descriptive history provides some further insight into how and why these bones were moved underground and arranged in such a manner. It was also fascinating to learn that groups of individuals were using the catacombs for secret parties until they were eventually busted.

This is a great book for those who are interested in mysterious places. I’m always interested in unexplained phenomena, and Ocker’s book not only provides insightful research into these areas, but also offers rational explanations that allow us to remain skeptical and offer plausible reasons for these irreputable retreats. Although Adam Parata provides great illustrations throughout the book that contribute to its eerie feel, I wish there were some real photographs of these places that were included in the book. Nevertheless, this is a fun and insightful read, especially for getting some travel ideas and possibly ignoring Ocker’s plea to Don’t Go There. Highly recommended!

Hilarious Stories- Thrilling Tales of Modern Men by Danny McBride

 Thrilling Tales of Modern Men: Stories by Danny McBride

Thrilling Tales of Modern Men book cover

Actor and author Danny McBride

Many thanks to Random House and NetGalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of Danny McBride’s aptly titled collection of short stories Thrilling Tales of Modern Men. I absolutely loved this collection, and I was pleasantly surprised by how entertaining these stories are. McBride, whose creative endeavors span acting, writing, and directing, may be known more for his on-screen characters, but much of the development and creativity that goes into crafting these characters appears in the characters and situations in these stories as well. While McBride has been known for comedy, he also has collaborated with David Gordon Green on the recent Halloween and Exorcist: Believer films, and this ability to meld genres like comedy and horror is also apparent in many of the stories, as we witness characters who often find themselves at the mercy of an absurd and sometimes terrifying world that is beyond their control, while other characters allow their pride and masculinity to lead them into situations in which they cannot escape. Overall, this is an excellent collection that I found myself both laughing at the situations and responses in which the characters are involved, but also not wanting to put the book down until I finished the story. It’s a highly readable collection full of energy drink loving, flawed and insecure guys who seemingly want to prove a point about their masculinity, often complicating their own downfalls, but in some cases providing opportunities for redemption. In his acknowledgement, McBride cites a few writers who inspired him, including Stephen King and George Saunders, and I was thinking about how many of the stories feature the kind of absurdities of modern life and the desire for characters to latch onto their masculinity that are a feature of Saunder’s work in particular, but also some of King’s earlier stories and novels. This is a fun and entertaining collection that allows its influences to reflect in the best ways.

The first story, “The Illusionist”, is the longest in the book and firmly establishes the themes of insecure guys who are trying to re-establish their masculinity and dignity through absurd attention grabbing activities. Greg is recently separated from his family, but believes that resurrecting his interest in magic and illusions will possibly demonstrate to his children and his wife, if not the entire community, his strength and perseverance. Although it comes at the cost of his job and eventually his friends, Greg makes plans to remain suspended in a clear container in a mall (with food and water, of course), so that everyone can witness his brave attempts at survival and persistence. However, a mysterious figure visits the mall at night to try to derail Greg’s campaign. Will  this end his attempts to win attention with his illusions?

“Robocare™” is one of the stories that really reminded me of a Saunders story. It focuses on George, an older widower whose kids are concerned about him living alone. As a result, they decide to enter him into a trial of a new technology that involves an in-home robot aid. George feels his independence threatened and rejects the robot, whose algorithms and attempts to learn more about George’s needs and accommodations result in a humorous and disastrous ending.

Similarly, “The Vicious Kind” was another story about a dad who experiences a threat to his masculinity in public that leads him to a regrettable action against his neighbors. This story also had a kind of Underground Man feel in that his public humiliation at a fair during at attempt to bond with his son leads him to act out on his neighbor’s boat, and it leads to further drastic action to cover up his impulsive vandalism.

“The Book Burner” follows another instance of a man who believes he’s been wronged, but he takes his revenge by visiting bookstores and burning copies of the books of the author whose story he believes exploits his tragedy. Again, this takes a humorous approach to a dark subject, and it involves a man who was struggling in his marriage, and his attempts to have a family night out at the carnival lead to the death of his wife. Marcus Mel, the author of the story, is equally hilarious in his arrogance and privilege, and the fateful meeting of these two characters has hilarious implications.

It’s hard to pick a favorite from this collection, but “The Institute of Men” is among my favorites with how strange and unsettling the eventual ending of the story is. However, to keep it simple, Mitchie decides to visit the Institute of Men because of his receding hairline, and the questions and process for his hair treatment are incredibly odd and somewhat disturbing. Again, this reminded me of a Saunders story or something from Stephen King where there’s an air of the uncanny in which Mitchie thinks he’s visiting one place, but is really unprepared for what unfolds during his intake. Within a day, Mitchie’s hair begins to grow and grow, attracting new attention not only from his colleagues, but also from a van of men who kidnap him and cut off all his long, flowing locks. Although he doesn’t know exactly what happened with his treatment, Mitchie’s hair growth is continuous but raises questions about the consequences of this treatment.

“Last Night of the Runaway Adventure” is about 2 boys who run away to live in the woods. One returns home and struggles to adapt, while the other makes his way west. The story examines the harsh realities of life in the woods, but it also presents the hilarious ways that one of the boys manages to make money and move westward.

“Gerald’s Wife” was also one of the highlights about a disastrous turn of events at a party. Although the story somewhat focuses on Gerald, it really focuses on his wife Tracy and her contempt at all of the others at the party. He annoyance with everyone and attempts to maintain social niceties come into conflict, leading her to an impulsive act that may have been captured on a security camera. Other stories also highlight the use of home surveillance to capture these instances of impulsivity, which again reminded me of some of Saunders’ work in how our human instincts and reactions often collide with modern technology. Tracy’s fake niceties and her attempts to label all of the partygoers are hilarious.

“Mr. Liptrapp’s Sword” is one of the more adventurous stories in the book about a teacher and history buff who uncovers a mystical sword in a local Civil War battlefield. The sword’s power attracts various bidders who desire it and will take drastic action to possess its power.

“Fun Run” was another one of my favorites, largely because of Denny, one of the two characters who attends a motivational speaker workshop with other people from various workplaces. The story is also told in a different narrative structure where there are sections that alternate from the start and the end that eventually converge to resolve the events, allowing readers to understand how Paul ended up in the fun run with Denny chasing after him in a field by the highway.

“Dad’s Way: A Hilarious ‘90s Sitcom” is another strong story that focuses on a 90s sitcom actor who has continued acting but in lesser and lesser roles since the end of his iconic sitcom. The recent death of the sitcom’s creator allows for a reunion and one-off show, where the original actors are all brought together despite their different life experiences. I liked this story because of its examination of sitcoms and nostalgia, as well as Mike Gotts struggle with accepting his role as America’s dad, but also wanting to go back to his glory days. The story is equally hilarious and critical in questioning the role of nostalgia in today’s entertainment.

Overall, this is a great collection of stories, and none of them were boring or disappointing. They all feature ridiculous and insecure men who struggle with their masculinity, act impulsive, and often face consequences for their actions, but are also offered opportunities for redemption. I was surprised at how much I empathized with some of the characters despite their rash or impulsive acts. McBride’s writing and characterization establishes these complex but flawed characters who experience both hubris and humiliation. Highly recommended! 

Asking the Important Questions: What Happened to College? by Neil Gross

 What Happened to College? How Politics Broke Higher Education and What We Can Do to Fix It by Neil Gross

What Happened To College? book cover

Sociologist, professor and author Neil Gross

Many thanks to Avid Reader Press and NetGalley for sending me an advanced copy of Neil Gross’s important and insightful new book What Happened To College?: How Politics Broke Higher Education and What We Can Do to Fix It. While most of us are assailed by bad faith assaults on higher education by bloviating modern Macbeths who are full of sound and fury but signify nothing (Chris Rufo), Neil Gross, a sociologist who teaches and is the chair of the department of Sociology at Coby College, has asked some interesting questions of the current research and engaged in his own inquiry of undergraduates, noting how their voices are often missing from the responses. As Gross untangles the research and pulls on surveys and statistics to investigate the question of “What Happened to College?”, we learn that there are many different factors across different domains that have contributed to more politicized, if not polarized, campuses in the US. However, it’s important to also pushback against the simplified and uninformed responses that proliferate on social media, conservative think tanks, and even from the government that try to implicate liberals with indoctrination and enforcing “ideological capture” in college classrooms. Thankfully, Gross’s deep dive into the research and his inclusion of student voices provides an antidote to the shallow thinking and bad faith arguments that continue to malign higher education. Nevertheless, Gross’s analysis uncovers issues and concerns, but he offers some reasonable and evidence-based ideas to improve teaching, communication, and socialization on campuses.

While Gross works in higher education and has observed changes through Colby’s campus, he notes that this campus, located in Maine, may not be representative of other campuses, and thus qualifies that much of the research and results we encounter about polarization and divisiveness on campuses should be viewed through the lens of the differences in schools. That is, students will perceive freedom to share and interact much differently on small, liberal arts campuses than they might on large, state school, research one, or elite college campuses. Another aspect of the book that appealed to me was Gross’s reminder that much of what we encounter in the news about incidents on college campuses reflect isolated events at some of America’s most elite and selective universities, yet the narrative that this is happening across all colleges is somehow perpetuated. My spouse also works at one of these universities that experienced significant disruption due to protests and encampments, and although Gross doesn’t mention it, it’s important to note that these incidents are disruptive to everyone on campus and, at times, involve members outside of the campus community. Yet, due to a lack of critical examination into these incidents, the blame is largely foisted onto administration, professors, and specific departments, and this blind acceptance of these scapegoats has real implications. People have lost their jobs, students have lost scholarships as schools continue to lose funding for research and scholarship. Gross’s research and analysis is an important reminder of the need for critical analysis of these incidents and to be a careful consumer of information we encounter on higher education.

In addition to being a professor, Gross also explains that his research was partly driven by his son’s recent college application process. While he notes that many students do not necessarily factor politics and institutional neutrality into their decisions, he notes that the framing of attention to political incidents on campus may affect how parents view college decisions. Thus, Gross’s book is a great read for parents whose children are planning to apply and attend college. He provides clear and well-researched information about the different types of universities and how their campus politicization has shifted over time. Furthermore, I thought that certain sections of this book would be a great read for first year students in introductory courses to not only explore the evolution of politics on campus, but to also gain a better understanding of how to support claims and ideas with research and how to analyze and evaluate existing research. Students would have an opportunity to examine survey and polling data, but also to question the methods, samples, and questions that researchers ask to raise further questions about the reliability and validity (as well as potential biases) that result from research methods. While this may seem highly technical and theoretical, Gross’s pedagogical skills make these methods accessible for a general audience and further help to promote the kind of critical thinking that is at the core of higher education.

What Happened to College? is organized around several areas of the campus- admissions, friends, hooking up/romance, politics in the classroom, cancel culture, and majors. Gross ends the book examining how education in general and higher education specifically is a progressive idea which ends up transmitting progressive ideas to students. He further explains how selective universities tend to be more progressive or liberal, which in turn attracts more progressive applicants. His research and analysis examines the traditions of higher education and demonstrate that it’s not ideological capture or indoctrination, but rather the progressive nature of education for all that tends to further influence people’s thinking. I found the chapter on majors to be particularly interesting, as Gross notes that some majors tend to have more conservative or moderate views, while others tend to lean more liberal, which kind creates this self-fulfilling prophecy. Students who tend to lean more conservatively or moderately are more likely to study fields like business, engineering, and sciences, where they encounter more students and professors with similar ideas and values. Conversely, students with more liberal learnings are more likely to select liberal arts, social sciences, and education as majors, where they also encounter others with similar values and beliefs. Other chapters that deal with teaching and cancel culture are also important to consider since students have expressed concerns about sharing their ideas in class. As Gross indicates, this is a documented concern for many students, but I also think that college classrooms have always experienced the challenges of getting students to share their ideas and experiences in a larger and sometimes unfamiliar setting. Part of this is developmental, as students are transitioning from a familiar high school setting to an unfamiliar classroom with changing classmates throughout their 4 years. Some classes may even be so large to limit any kind of dialogue. In my experience teaching in higher education, it can take some time to build trust and establish an environment where students feel comfortable sharing. I usually try to get students to use their own experiences as a frame of reference to make connections with the ideas and theories from readings. I also like to use small groups to help establish closer connections and develop more comfort with sharing with a small group before sharing with the entire class. Again, this can take some time and effort to establish the level of trust and comfort. Students in college are also, in the words of Mikhail Bakhtin, ideologically becoming, a kind of continuous process that is shaped by the interactions with the different people and values that surround them. As students move from their varying home experiences to college, they probably encounter a greater variety of values and backgrounds, some of which may counter what they believe. It’s important to remember that their development of their own ideologies are a continuous and ongoing process, and exposing students to a variety of different perspectives is not only healthy, but also important to their development. Gross notes the role that social media can play in students reticence. While social media can offer students immediate responses and attention to their ideas and thoughts, it’s not representative of the kind of dialogue and critical thinking that are an integral part of a college classroom. Furthermore, the exposure to echo chambers and divisive polarity that are often found on social media run counter to the kind of thoughtful dialogue and evidence based reasoning that are often found in college classrooms. Nevertheless, social media is something that professors and students have to contend with on today’s campuses, but as Gross’s research into the concerns about freedom of expression and careful consideration of ideas from students indicates, it’s all the more reason why college is so important for students today. Students need to learn to think and listen considerately to ideas, as well as to be critical consumers of the kind of information (and disinformation) they encounter online. College classrooms should play important roles in shaping this kind of critical thinking to question and counter the polarization present on social media. Gross’s conclusion recommends some practical applications that can be implemented to improve dialogue and interactions on campus to reduce polarization and create a better sense of understanding and appreciation. I really appreciated seeing the importance of teaching centers to help professors learn best practices for facilitating meaningful dialogue and engaging students in sound instructional methods to support deep learning. Furthermore, it was interesting to learn more about intentional rooming arrangements in some schools and other programs like those at Duke University that promote dialogue and discussion among students.

What Happened to College? is an important book to read, not just for professors and others who work in higher education, but for parents and students as well. Neil Gross’s thoughtful and critical analysis and evaluation of the research about the politicization and polarization in higher education helps to establish a more reasoned, impartial, and objective perspective on many of the issues that students and faculty face in higher education. This is especially important since the current narrative about ideological capture and indoctrination relies on spotlight fallacies and overgeneralizations that fail to document what is really happening on college campuses and classrooms. These logical fallacies and the media attention they have attracted have real world consequences on funding and opportunities in higher education that will ultimately result in a less-educated population. If anything, Gross’s research and analysis is an important reminder about the significance of a college education in raising more questions and interrogating the data and information we encounter. Highly recommended! 

Keep It Beautiful: The Funkyverse of Shock G and the Digital Underground

 Keep It Beautiful: Inside The Funkyverse of Shock G and The Digital Underground by Alexis Wolfe Mbassa and Gregory E. Jacobs

Keep  It Beautiful book cover

Shock G with author and photographer Alexis Wolfe Mbassa

Many thanks to Clarkson Potter/Ten Speed Press and NetGalley for sending me an advanced copy of the long-gestating but incredibly satisfying collaborative, funky, and genre-blurring book Keep It Beautiful: Inside the Funkyverse of Shock G and the Digital Underground by Alexis Wolfe Mbassa and Gregory E. Jacobs (aka Shock G, Humpty Hump, MC Blowfish, Peanut Hakeem). I was so excited to find this book as The Digital Underground were one of those formative bands from my early adolescence. Sex Packets was one of the first tapes I owned, and although I loved the singles like “The Humpty Dance” and “Doowutchyalike”, there were so many deep cuts on that album that I would just listen to the tape back and forth so many times. The Underground followed that album up with several other great albums, and thanks to Wolfe Mbassa’s effort to midwife this book through Jacobs’ somewhat whimsical and spontaneous methods as well as his untimely death in 2021, I also learned a lot about Jacobs’ life and musical career beyond Digital Underground. This book is a must for fans of Digital Underground and especially for those hip-hop heads who came of age in the golden era of the late 80s through the 90s. For those that don’t know, Shock G was not only responsible for creating the persona of Humpty Hump, whose hit “The Humpty Dance” was one of the most popular singles of 1990, but was also the visionary who shaped the sound of images that were associated with Digital Undergrounds album. Wolfe Mbassa, who initially met Shock G in the 2000s and collaborated with him on the book over the course of a decade, allowed him to introduce himself through a biography, but also focused on the influences on his art. Shock G didn’t only write rhymes and rap, but he also orchestrated and produced his music, designed the album artwork, and more importantly conceptualized the ideas behind the characters and album themes that pushed against many of the emerging trends and stereotypes in hip-hop that took the sound of the underground back to the house and block parties where the sound originated. Digital Underground were fun, and although their sound and vision were largely shaped by funk-forefathers like Parliament and Funkadelic, their albums were always forward looking. In fact, there’s a great chapter about Sex Packets where Shock G details the origin of the album, designing an album around the packet man, a dealer of ecstatic pleasures, whose products were originally intended for astronauts while floating in space. Members of DU even created informational pamphlets to leave around Oakland about the new street drug, convincing some that the drug was real and producing news stories and an eventually denial issued by NASA. I loved that Jacobs was that into his music and that for every album, he conceptualized these sci-fi street ideas for the albums. It was something that my 13 year-old self didn’t really understand at the time, but I loved the music and the rhymes because they were just so fun and funky.

  Although I am still a big fan of The Digital Underground, Wolfe Mbassa’s book reveals a lot about Shock G that I never really knew about- from his early life growing up between New York and Florida, to his mentorship and production for other artists in the 1990s, especially his role in helping to launch the career of 2Pac and producing his breakout album 2Pacalypse Now. I loved learning about Jacobs’s early interest in music, his attempts to get a job as a DJ in middle school, becoming Florida’s youngest on-air DJ, and the various schemes and adventures that helped to contribute to some of the amazing characters and situations that populate the Underground’s classic albums like Sex Packets.

Beyond the words, the book is filled with images, artwork, and memorabilia from Shock G’s life and career. While Shock G tells most of the stories, Wolfe Mbassa met up with other members of Digital Underground and talked to other rappers who were contemporaries of Digital Underground. One of the highlights was Chuck D’s early morning interview in which he shared his memories of Public Enemy touring with Digital Underground, and how their sound and approach to hip-hop was so fun and innovative for the time. There’s also a great story about Rakim who met with a fan who gave him a portrait of him crushing other MCs with his lyrical styles. A year later, Rakim realized that fan was Shock G. Wolfe Mbassa honors the memory and artistry of Jacobs’s many alter egos by letting his voice and vision flow throughout the book, stepping in occasionally to provide context for when or where the interviews took place. This collaborative approach creates a kind of intimate reading experience where readers are allowed to tag along with Wolfe Mbassa as she travels to Jacobs’s Topanga Canyon home, where she documents the painted piano, various instruments, and canvases that inhabit the home and allow Jacobs to express his artistry through music and visual art. Although Jacobs passed away at the too young age of 57 in 2021, Wolfe Mbassa’s book allows us to spend some more time with this legendary voice of hip-hop who shifted the sound and style down a funky road, and reminded listeners to doowutchyalike. Highly recommended! 

Coltrane: The Definitive Visual Celebration of the Legend

 Coltrane: The Definitive Visual Celebration of the Legend by Ravi Coltrane with contributions from Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wayne Coyne, Dev Hynes, Phil Lesh, Julie Mehretu, Carlos Santana, and Patti Smith

Coltrane book cover

Many thanks to Clarkson Potter/Ten Speed Press and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of the beautiful and thoughtful photographic collection Coltrane: The Definitive Visual Celebration of the Legend. 2026 marks the 100^th birthday of John Coltrane, one of the most significant jazz artists of the 20^th century, and in my opinion, one of the most important American musicians and composers. It’s been exciting to see all of the celebrations of Trane’s life, music, and artistry, and this collection of photographs is a beautiful addition to the celebration. This collection includes nearly 200 pages of intimate, thoughtful, and live photographs spanning Coltrane’s career from the 1950s through the late 1960s, before his untimely death in 1967 at age 40. In addition to the photos, the book also contains several brief essays from different artists and musicians that detail their first encounters with Coltrane, as well as his influence on their own music, art, and lives. Coltrane’s son, Ravi, pens a heartfelt essay to begin the book that details his encounter with his father and his performance at Temple University in a dream. Coltrane did perform at Temple about a year before his death, but Ravi Coltrane was only about a year old at the time. For anyone who has lost a parent, these kinds of dreams of encountering a lost loved one can bring many different emotions, and Ravi explains how important John’s image and music has been in understanding who his father was and shaping his legacy and impact on music and jazz. I really enjoyed this essay, and Ravi’s reflections made me appreciate the photos in the book even more, even those that I’ve seen as album covers and artwork. There are other essays from an eclectic crew including Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wayne Coyne, Dev Hynes, Phil Lesh, Julie Mehretu, Carlos Santana, and Patti Smith. Even though it seems like this may be a disparate group, they all seem to share the same kind of profound experience of first encountering Trane’s music, and how his music eventually shaped their own music, art, or careers. I especially appreciated the different musicians’ takes on Coltrane’s music and seeing how his evolution of sound encouraged them to take their own creative risks and recognize the spirituality and emotion that can be conveyed through music.

However, the book’s photos are central to conveying another side of John Coltrane, where we are able to visually witness his evolution from sideman to taking some giant steps to an ascension to become one of the key progenitors of avant garde and free jazz. There are some great photos of Coltrane’s time with Dizzy Gillespie’s band as well as his time with Miles Davis. Also included in the 1950s collection are photos from the Blue Train session, Coltrane’s first session as a leader. It’s fascinating to see him both in action, playing the saxophone, as well as the thoughtful, introspective shots probably from in between takes.

My favorite images in the book come from the 1960s, which is also the era of Coltrane’s music that I most enjoy. There’s a great shot of Coltrane at the Guggenheim, which I’ve never seen before. It’s a fascinating shot and communicated his interest in art and modernism- the new thing- that he shepherded through his music. The photos from the 1960s, especially the latter 1960s, feature many Coltrane performances, which often depict him playing as if possessed by some holy spirit, proclaiming a message of peace and consciousness- a love supreme. I also learned that Coltrane played with Wes Montgomery in the early 60s. Although it was never recorded, I would have loved to hear them play together. I love the motion captured in these still images, and how despite the freeze-frame nature of photographs, there’s a continual sense of fluidity and energy that these images portray. There are some powerful images from the A Love Supreme sessions, along with the cover image shot by Bob Thiele, with a note from Alice Coltrane indicating the cover shot. One of the groups of photos that resonated most with me was showing John and Alice collaborating at the piano. I’ve never seen these photos before, but they depict the synthesis of their artistic and spiritual visions for music. These are lovely images of a true artistic marriage. As Andy Beta explores in Cosmic Music: The Life, Art and Transcendence of Alice Coltrane, Alice’s impact on John’s later music was significant, and these pictures help to document this continued evolution to higher spiritual realms. These images also depict that different side of Coltrane, where he’s collaborating and sharing his vision.

This is an amazing collection, and although I previewed the digital version, I can only imagine how lovely the physical copy is. The images are high quality and well-organized in a chronological manner to depict Coltrane’s growth and evolution from sideman to group leader to the spiritual leader who shepherded the avant garde and new sound that revolutionized American jazz and experimental music. Highly recommended!