Title: Comparative Politics: A Global Introduction
Author: Michael J. Sodaro
Pages: 848
Published: 2008
Source: Half.Com (Required Reading)

“Comparative Politics: A Global Introduction presents a uniquely comprehensive approach to the study of politics in a variety of countries. Part I surveys the core topics of comparative politics and equips students with the concepts and analytical methods they need to understand the complexities of today’s political world. Part I enhances critical thinking skills by explaining in a step-by-step fashion how the basic techniques of the scientific method, such as qualitative hypothesis testing, can be used to understand political realities. Part II provides in-depth studies of many major countries, using the concepts and analytical techniques introduced in Part I. By combining rich conceptualization, analytical methods, and extensive coverage of a diversity of countries, this engaging text teaches introductory-level students how to think about politics for themselves, logically and systematically.”

In the interest of full disclosure, I have not read the entirely of this textbook as my Intro to Comparative Politics class focused solely on Britain, Germany, China, and Mexico. Therefore, I only read the chapters on these countries and a handful of others dealing with political economy, conditions for democracy, conditions for development, and the like.

Comparative Politics offers a fairly compact look at the political system of each country it delves into, and it’s fairly easy to get the “gist” of a country. However, I found that the book was pretty dry; it wasn’t boring, per say, but lacked a little pizazz to keep the reader interested. If you’re not interested in the country you’re reading about, Sodaro isn’t going to give you a reason to. And, personally, I found the journal articles my professor assigned to be much more interesting than the chapters of this textbook.

Rating: 2

Title: All But My Life
Author: Gerda Weissmann Klein
Pages: 261
Published: 1995
Source: Campus Bookstore (Required Reading)

At 9:10 a.m. Gerda Weissmann’s life ended; the Nazis invaded Poland and red, black, and white flags with swastikas hung from her neighbor’s windows. Uncertainty turns into upheaval first with the deportation of her brother and then with the loss of her family’s home. Her ill father becomes listless; her mother withdrawals into herself. And almost as quickly as it begins Gerda finds herself in the Bielitz ghetto where she separated from her father, then to a transit camp where she is separated from her mother, and then onto the labour camp, Bolkenhain. This is only the beginning of Klein’s story, a story that ends with the Nazis robbing her of all but her life.

This is the book that’s been missing from my course on the Holocaust. We’ve learned about Merin, a member of the Judenrat who lined his pockets; we’ve learned about the difference between labour camps and concentration camps. And according to our syllabus, in the coming weeks we’re going to learn about death marches. But as well as my professor is at telling stories for lectures instead of saying “these are the facts you need to know,” there is something you can only get by reading the memoir of a survivor. The “I” makes it personal; the “I” makes facts visible realities.

Even on the written side, All But My Life is one of the most, if not the most, well-written written memoirs I’ve ever read. It’s heart-wrenching, emotional, and personal when other Holocaust memoirs are distant. You relive Klein’s past, and I can understand why in the preface Klein says she is now, finally, emancipated from her burden.

It’s so personal, so powerful, and worth every tear I shed. And I would love to read The Hours After, a collection of letters between Klein and her husband, U.S. Army lieutenant Kurt Klein, who liberated her on May 7th, 1945, after the war.

Rating: 5

Title: Unholy Trinity
Author: Richard Peet
Pages: 287
Published: 2009 (Second Edition)
Source: Campus Bookstore (Required Reading)

“Who really runs the global economy? Who benefits most from it?

The answer is a triad of ‘global governance institutions’: the IMF, World Bank and WTO. The power of these institutions, which drastically affect the livelihoods of people across the world, has grown massively as a result of globalization. Yet they operate undemocratically, aggressively promoting a particular kind of neoliberal capitalism that seeks to end poverty by increasing inequality.

This new edition of Unholy Trinity, completely updated and revised, argues that neoliberal global capitalism has now entered a period of crisis so severe that governance will become impossible. Huge incomes for the small number of super-rich have produced an unstable global economy, rife with speculation and structurally prone to crises. The IMF is in disgrace, the WTO can hardly meet anyone and the World Bank survives as a global philanthropist. Is this the end for the Unholy Trinity?”

The first edition of Unholy Trinity was co-written and titled by students who took the same class I’m currently taking. This edition, though, is definitely all Professor Peet.While it’s not nearly as confusing as Geography of Power, this book goes off on tangent after tangent.

Unholy Trinity delves into what Peet considers to be undemocratic, American-dominated organizations that operates more as corporations than organizations committed to every member country’s interest. Peet does a good job of introducing the International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization both in historical context and their current form, but the third member of this unholy triad, the World Bank, is virtually ignored by Peet as it’s given the least amount of attention.

The problem is, though, that Peet takes the long road to his point, and while he chases his tangents, I either lose focus on what he’s saying or I zero in on his tangent instead of his point. I hate how he refers to himself in the Royal ‘We’, and I wish he would write his books the way he talks — simple, straightforward. Instead, Peet writes confusing things like:

“These diverse articulations, between the global and the local, can be described using a set of geopolitical terms that combine the political-discursive-rational dimension with the geographical-organizational-power dimension.” (pg. 23)

No wonder so many people come to discussion group scratching their heads.

Regardless, if you can get past the confusing language, Unholy Trinity is a pretty good introduction to reasons to the anit-IMF, World Bank, and WTO camp. However, the greatest downfall of this book is the fact that there is very little discussion of the other side, of why there are some who are pro-IMF, World Bank, and WTO. He’s offers some pieces of  pro-opinion in order to critique it, but ultimately replies upon critiques of his tangent topics to carry his argument.

Rating: 2

Title: Digging to America
Author: Anne Tyler
Pages: 292
Published: 2007
Source: Campus library’s used book sale

“Two families, who would otherwise never have come together, meet by chance at the Baltimore airport, each anticipating the arrival of an adopted infant daughter from Korea. Brad and Bitsy Donaldson, all-American suburbanites, and their gift-laden clan resemble a gigantic baby shower with their flotilla of silvery balloons and pink ribbons. Iranian-born matriarch Maryam Yazdan stands unobtrusively in the back of the waiting area with her fully assimilated son, Sami, and his attractive Iranian American wife, Ziba. When Bitsy invites the Yazdans to an “arrival” party at the Donaldson home, an improbable friendship begins, and the occasion evolves into an annual tradition. Over the years, as the parents, children, and grandparents become more deeply entwined, cultures clash, values are challenged, and the American way is seen from the beguiling perspectives of both those who are born here and those who are struggling to fit in.”

The title arises from a child’s simple question: if American children are digging to China, are Chinese children digging to America?

Interesting, no?

The questions continue: what does it mean to be American? What does it mean to be a foreigner? And what does it mean to be a family? These are the questions I thought Digging to America was going to ask, and in the beginning, Tyler’s seventeenth novel set out looking for answers. It’s when the Donaldsons and Yazdans celebrate the fourth arrival party that the novel began to flounder as it shifts its focus from these questions and these daughters to a relationship between Susan Yazdan’s grandmother and Jin-Ho Donaldon’s grandfather.

The Donaldsons, an “American-American” family, and the Yazdans, second-generation Iranian-Americans, meet at the Baltimore airport while waiting for the arrival of their respective Korean daughters. Both families have decided to adopt after years of trying; both are anxious to bring their child home. What’s interesting, though, is the difference between each family’s parenting styles and the subsequent relationships they form with their daughters. The Donaldsons decide to keep Jin-Ho’s Korean first name; the Yazdans teach their daughter to speak Farsi and cook Iranian cuisine.

The first three-fourths of this novel are thought-provoking and interesting, but, as I said above, the last quarter was tedious. It was as though Tyler ran out of problems for the families to face and the only remaining thing to do was to complicate their friendship by having Maryam and Dave date. The ending, therefore, is quite sappy and predictable, but the first three-fourths are still enough to win high praise from me.

Rating: 4
Balance of Opinion: The Armenian Odar Reads, Reading Matters, A Striped Armchair

It’s that time of year where the course catalog is sent out, where I agonize over what courses to take because there are so many options, and where I help everyone else figured out how to take chemistry, biology, statistics, and psychology 102 in a semi-reasonable fashion. This Thursday is the day I register for spring classes, and it looks like I’ll be taking Introduction to Literature. I need a “verbal expression” class for my liberal arts requirements, and speculative fiction sounds way too much like political science fiction. Therefore, it looks like I’ll be reading these books come next spring:

I’ve heard great things about Complete Persepolis, and Oscar Wao, which won a Pulitzer Prize, was quite popular on the blogosphere a while back. The others, though, I’ve never even heard of before.

Quite a few people considered it cute when Pride and Prejudice was infused with zombies; I saw it as a mockery of a classic novel. Then, in July, Quirk Classics announced it would be publishing Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and I said no way, no how. August saw the introduction of Mr Darcy, Vampyre by Amanda Grange, whose first attempt at conveying Darcy’s thoughts left me less than satisfied.

And then I found out at the beginning of October Del Ray Books was jumping on the band wagon with Little Women and Warewolves, which is set to be released in June 2010. (Not to be out done, Quirk announced four days ago about it would be releasing Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls, a prequel to their bestseller.)

Little Women is one of the first books I remember receiving as a gift. My mom gave me a beautiful hardback copy that I love probably even more than I do the story. I thought this had gone too far with Pride and Prejudice because j’adore Jane Austen, but Little Women is a very special book to me and this just feels wrong. So wrong.

Anyways, what do you think about “monsterfication”? Should these classics be left alone? Or can you just not wait to get your hands on a copy of Little Women and Warewolves, Dawn of the Dreadfuls, and/or Mr Darcy, Vampyre.

Title: Oryx and Crake
Author: Margaret Atwood
Pages: 374
Published: 2004

“With the stunning blend of prophecy and social satire she bought to her classic The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood gives us a keenly prescient novel about the future of humanity — and its persent.

Humanity here equals Snowman, and in Snowman’s recollections Atwood re-creates a time much like our own, when a boy named Jimmy loved an elusive, damaged girl called Oryx and a sardonic genius called Crake. But now Snowman is alone, and as we learn why we also learn about a world that could become ours one day.”

Oryx and Crake was an extra assignment given to me by my Political Science Fiction professor after I went to her and told I was “understimulated” (her words, not mine) by my classes. At the time we were about to start The Handmaid’s Tale, which I read this past May and enjoyed, and upon mentioning this fact, she instructed me to read Atwood’s finalist for the 2003 Booker Prize and the 2003 Governor General’s Award. Since she listened the audio book, her plan was that I would read it and upon finishing it, we’d compare notes. I’m interested in what she’ll have to say about her experience listening because my experience reading certainly does not match up to her previous statements. Needless to say, I struggled to enjoy Atwood’s science fiction novel.

Snowman, the main character and perceivably the only human left living, is the caretaker of the Crakers, or the Children of Crake, the mad scientist of this tale. Complicating this story, though, are the friendship between Snowman (also known as Jimmy) and Crake – formulated in their youth, this friendship struggles to last through college after Crake heads to the prestigious Watson-Crick Institute and Snowman to the arts-based Martha Graham Academy – and each boy’s relationship with Oryx, the character we’re given the least insight into. Originally, Oryx’s mother sells her to a man who blackmails others for trying to have s*x with her; later, she’s passed along to a child p*rnographer and the video she “stars” in is the first time Snowman and Crake see her. The video haunts Snowman; it’s barely a blimp on Crake’s screen. After landing a job at a biotech corporation, Crake creates both the Crakers – innocent and peaceful, these genetically engineered humans are herbivores whose, um, parts turn blue during their limited breeding seasons – and a genetic pandemic that, apparently, kills all humans except for Snowman. His final product, though, provides the climax of this tale.

I liked the concepts behind the novel – corporate parasitism, ethics, humanity, science over arts, genetic engineering – and I thought quite a bit of it was a reflection of life today. Of course, this is the whole point of science fiction novels, and I would have been disappointed if this had not been the case with Oryx and Crake. One thing I did noticed, though, was the similarities between Atwood’s novel and several I have read for my political science fiction class. For example, in “The Product of the Extremes” by Brenda W. Clough, a genetically-based pill eliminates racism and, ultimately, race; in Oryx and Crake, Crake believes the BlyssPluss pill will eliminate racism. It will certainly make a good talking point when I meet with my professor on Friday.

So what didn’t I like about this tale? I really struggled to get into the novel because I didn’t like any of the characters. Crake was too much of a mad scientist, Snowman rubbed me the wrong way, and Oryx played both men. Ultimately, though, it was the lack of information and lack of characterization of all three main characters that bother me. Structurally speaking, Oryx and Crake suffers from being both physically too long and from taking too long for the story to move forward. The whole thing is told in flashbacks as Snowman reminisces as the Crakers pester him for stories of their creator. The vulgarity and the fact that sex was everywhere in this novel really turned me off to it. As boys, Snowman and Crake play “Kwiktime Osama,” which mimics the actions of its reference, and “Blood and Roses,” a graphic videogame where players play historical rivals and battle to the bloody, gory death. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Commentary on today? Of course. Unnecessarily nauseating? Resoundingly yes. And I still don’t understand Crake’s motivations for his actions; there’s no clear reasoning for anything that happens, and that’s ultimately this novel’s downfall despite the open ending.

Apparently The Year of the Flood, which was released towards the end of last month, is the follow-up to Oryx and Crake, but I don’t plan on reading it.

Rating: 1
Balance of Opinion: 1 More Chapter, Book-a-Rama, DogEar Diary

I’m starting to think the Classics Challenge ‘09 isn’t my cup of tea. This year, I didn’t read a single book of my original list, and instead had to “resort” to old favorites to get anywhere on the challenge. (Huck Finn and I just were not getting along.) The challenge ran from April 1 to Oct. 31, 2009, and I tried to participate at the “Classics Snack” level, which means I was aiming to read four classics plus a bonus book.

1. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Mark Twain)
2. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky)
3. Emma (Jane Austen)
4. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
5. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Brontë)
6. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
7. To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)

I’m starting to think that maybe I just wasn’t meant to participate as a reader in Dewey’s Read-a-Thon. Last year, I had prom on the same day at the read-a-thon; this year I have the Worcester Novice Invitational Regatta until late morning, an alumni dinner from early afternoon to the wee hours of the night, and in between all of this I’ll be helping my friend, Katie, move from one dorm to another. But I thought I would share some of the books I would be reading if I was participating just as I did last year. So if you haven’t finalized that list year or are making one more trip to the library, here’s what I would be reading.

• Baghdad Diaries (Nuha Al-Radi) — One woman’s account of the life in Baghdad during the first war on Iraq.
• The Cage Keeper (Andrew Dubus III) — By the author of House of Sand and Fog, this one is a collection of stories about those who stand on the fringe of society — ex-cons.
• Digging to America (Anne Tyler) — I bought this one at my library’s book sale because I really, really liked the cover.
• The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) — This is a reread for me (my review), but, alas, it’s for a class and I need a little refresher before I start writing my paper on it.
• The Lexus and the Olive Tree (Thomas L. Friedman) — I’ve been having a difficult timing getting into Friedman’s From Beirut to Jerusalem, so I’m hoping I’ll have better luck with this one.
• Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood) — I told my adviser and professor I was under-stimulated by my classes, so she promptly threw this book at me and we have an appointment to discuss it in November.

(Alternatively titled ‘Why Christina Hasn’t Been Blogging’.) I’ve actually been reading a lot of college and not just the textbooks I mentioned before. One of classes revolves entirely around novels, but after hammering out anywhere from a two to six page essay over each one, I just don’t feel like reviewing. Which then makes me feel like I don’t have anything to blog about (other than Book Blogger Appreciation Week, which I completely missed this year). It’s a vicious cycle.

I still have three books from the summer to review and an additional seven to that, but I’m just letting it all roll of my shoulders and the list get longer. I may get to them, and I may not.

• Shopaholic & Sister
• Where the Broken Heart Still Beats
• Lies My Teacher Told Me
• The Lathe of Heaven
• Cat’s Cradle
• Longitudes & Attitudes
• Oceans Apart
• My Wounded Heart
• Blade Runner
• “Protection”

Two of the books above I definitely want to review because I would give both of them ‘5’s, and I really want people to go out and read them. But like I said, there’s no rush. (Edited to add: I finished my review of Longitudes & Attitudes; please read this book.) After my discussion group on Wednesday, I’m supposed to start We, which has been on my want-to-read list for quiet some time. I’m so excited to finally read it that I volunteered to be discussion leader for it. In some of my spare time, I’m been dipping into Egalia’s Daughters and V for Vendetta. However, this week will be spent studying for my Holocaust midterm on Thursday and editing my big paper for Global Society, so I don’t think I’ll get much recreational reading done.

That said, I really enjoy college; it so much easier to be excited about classes when you picked them. They’re all so interesting and thought-provoking. Last Thursday, my entire Global Society class broke out into an argument over Israeli aggression towards Palestine, but it was handled in such a mature way that would not have been seen in any of my high school classes. In addition, I joined crew (rowing) for my college, so I’m up Monday through Wednesday and Fridays too at 5:30 to hit the water. Crew, which is one of the oldest Olympic sports, just isn’t something you find in Montana (water is too volatile) or Texas (only one natural lake), so it’s definitely been a learning experience.

I hope everyone is enjoying the book(s) they are currently reading. I’ve been jotting down a handful of titles this week, so I know some of you have found some good ones.