travelogue – Triple Take

The Wilder Life (Wendy McClure)

The Plot
Author Wendy McClure immerses herself in the world of the Little House books after she rereads them as an adult. The tale of the Ingalls family gets a hold on her imagination and she begins her journey into “Laura World”, a strange place where doomsday religious extremists can bump up against East coast liberals and cheerful homeschooling families. Where fans of the television series and fans of the books have wildly divergent views of the same source material. Where the true facts of history occasionally conflict with the sometimes more persuasive reality of the books. She tries to get to the bottom of the books’ attraction and learn more about the real Laura Ingalls Wilder, whose life was softened and fictionalized for the Little House books.

My Thoughts
The timing of this book’s arrival could not have been more perfect from my perspective. Here at Tripletake we’ve been gearing up for a Little House bonanza in the second half of 2011 — we’re all to read the main series, some of us for the first time, and any of the peripheral books (some more real than the series, some less) we care to. So The Wilder Life was sure to set the right mood and prepare me to dive in.

I wasn’t wrong. This memoir/travelogue, which loosely follows McClure’s travels to a variety of the Ingalls-Wilder homestead sites, mirrored many of my own thoughts and feelings on the series exactly, and left me eager to reread not just the Little House books, but also much of the non-fiction literature that’s sprung up around them and their creator.

The book opens with McClure reminiscing on her childhood, her attraction to certain types of books, and her relationship with the Little House books in particular. So much of what she wrote was so similar to my own experiences, I spent a good portion of this chapter just nodding or laughing in agreement. To me, the Little House books were unusual in that I owned them – I’d gotten a complete boxed paperback set when I was 7 or 8 years old, around the same time I received a similar set of the Narnia books. Until I was in my teens, I actually owned very few books: there weren’t any bookstores very close to where we lived, I had no money, and I read too voraciously to support my habit that way anyhow. So there was the library. But the books I read from the library were different; they weren’t mine, and though I could always check them out again and again (and often did), it wasn’t entirely the same. And then there was the fact that Laura was “real”, an actual person who had once existed in the same ghostly, nebulous way as George Washington or Louisa May Alcott, and unlike the characters featured in most of my other books.

Like McClure, I also somehow missed out on the TV show for the most part. I believe I’m a few years younger than she, so my main memories of the show while it was still airing are of snippets from the later seasons, when things started to get crazy. When I think of Little House on the Prairie as a television show, my mind is filled with horrors: tornadoes, fires, dead babies. I was afraid of the show and even now it makes me tense when I happen to flip past it on some cable station. But though there are also terrible incidents in the books, they still retain a warm fuzzy feeling for me. And again like McClure, what sticks with me are some of the little things which sounded so exotic and fun – maple syrup on snow, braiding straw into hats, sewing quilts, smoking meat (the whole pig butchering scene, in fact, is made to sound incredibly fun and delicious, even though I’m sure I would be ill if confronted with it in real life).

I also never really thought about the fact that the places in these books were real and could be visited. To a little girl in New Hampshire, the midwest was remote, practically another planet. And even when I might have gone to visit quite easily — living in Minneapolis for two years — it never even occurred to me! For the last, I will always kick myself. (Aside: Similarly to the author’s partner, my own husband was not a Little House aficionado growing up. I suppose it’s because they’re not considered to be ‘boy’ books. But that is no excuse for being FROM WISCONSIN and having no idea that SO WAS LAURA. I’m still not over it.)

McClure finds herself drawn back in to “Laura World” after the death of her mother. Drawn back in a serious way, as she starts to research more about Laura’s real life, to read biographies and old journals and non-Little House writings. She does a huge amount of reading and research and old-timey experiments. Some of what she reveals I knew about (the Laura anime), some I’d heard of (Pioneer Girl, the original Laura draft memoir – I didn’t realize you could get a copy), and some shocked me (@halfpintingalls, a twitter account I’ve been following practically since it first appeared, is written by Wendy McClure).

Don’t get me wrong – this is not a biography, and though there is plenty of factual information about the Ingalls and Wilder family, that’s not the focus here. But the descriptions of the visits to the homestead sites are much more personal and thus more useful (at least to me) than any travel guide could be. I was especially intrigued by the visit to De Smet and the last of the Ingalls homesteads (Laura herself spent most of her adult life in Missouri, but as a Wilder). Sleeping outside in a covered wagon, even a fake one, sounded really fun. (Even after the misadventures.) I’ve had to stop myself from starting to plan a lengthy car trip vacation several times now.

In Short
I keep meditating on the book, trying to come up with something profound to say about it, but the fact is I simply enjoyed it a lot, and believe other people would, too. Especially anyone who was a little girl similar to myself. It reignited in me the desire to go visit these places at some point, and made me really excited to begin rereading the books as soon as possible. And I’ll definitely be trying some apples and onions in the near future.

J’s Take on The Great Typo Hunt

I didn’t know anything about these guys before I read the book. What I knew about it was pretty much solely from the front cover. Two friends, presumably guys, on a cross-country road trip to correct typos. It sounded cool.

It was cool. The story is told from Jeff Deck’s point of view, so I’m not sure how much of a hand Benjamin Herson had in the writing of it. At times I may say ‘he’ when it should rightfully be ‘they’. So, in this case, my next sentence was going to be: And Deck is actually pretty funny. But maybe it’s both of them that are, since they wrote it together.

Deck, and this time I do just mean him, hits on this idea of going cross-country correcting typos. I think it’s just the sort of thing a certain type of young guy decides to do. Road trip, nothing too new there. Correcting typos.. well, now you’re getting into geek territory. And I think the two of them are much more of the geek persuasion than they let come through in the text. Even references to Frodo can be passed off as literary rather than geeky.
Continue reading “J’s Take on The Great Typo Hunt”

The Great Typo Hunt (Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson)

The Plot
Jeff Deck, feeling motivated by his recent college reunion to get out and do something, embarks on a months long journey across the country to correct ‘typos’: errors in punctuation, spelling and grammatical style which plague our signs, pamphlets and menus. The road trip ends up taking a turn he never saw coming.

Continue reading “The Great Typo Hunt (Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson)”

Sixpence House by Paul Collins: B+

From the book jacket:
Paul Collins and his family abandoned the hills of San Francisco to move to the Welsh countrysideâ€”to move, in fact, to the little cobblestone village of Hay-on-Wye, the “Town of Books,” boasting 1,500 inhabitants… and forty bookstores. Antiquarian bookstores, no less.
Inviting readers into a sanctuary for book lovers, and guiding us through […]

From the book jacket:
Paul Collins and his family abandoned the hills of San Francisco to move to the Welsh countrysideâ€”to move, in fact, to the little cobblestone village of Hay-on-Wye, the “Town of Books,” boasting 1,500 inhabitants… and forty bookstores. Antiquarian bookstores, no less.

Inviting readers into a sanctuary for book lovers, and guiding us through the production of the author’s own first book, Sixpence House is a wonderfully engaging meditation on what books mean to us, and how their meaning can resonate long after they have been abandoned by their public.

Review:
Books, Britain, and buildings are three of my favorite topics, and when one tosses them together in one book, odds are that I’m going to like it. Even if, as in the case of Sixpence House, there is no real plot to speak of. Seriously, this family moves to Wales, tries to buy a house, fails, then moves back to the United States. Despite the title making one think that they’ll be buying and renovating a particular house, that never actually comes to pass.

I couldn’t really get into the book at first, because the style of writing is incredibly tangential. Collins will be relating a story in which he has just gotten off the Tube in London, and will suddenly switch to a description of a rotunda built in San Francisco in 1915. He never really stops doing things like this, but I got used to the side trips and even came to enjoy them.

On booksâ€”Collins very clearly loves them, and delights in quoting passages from obscure publications. I enjoyed all of the excerpts from these forgotten tomes and felt a momentary stirring of desire to hunt for such abandoned treasures myself. He also talks a good deal about the capacity of books to live on far beyond the span of their author, leading to different reflections upon mortality. That’s not a subject I prefer to dwell on, but he handles the topic thoughtfully, and with a practical bent seemingly influenced by the practices of the Brits themselves.

On Britainâ€”More than any other source, Sixpence House has provided me a good idea of what life in Britain can really be like to one coming from an American perspective. Some things are betterâ€”television and print media assume a far greater level of consumer intellect than their American equivalents, for exampleâ€”and some worse, like the lack of right to privacy laws in the UK. My one complaint is that sometimes I couldn’t be sure what was actually true and what was just dry humor. For instance, when I looked up a thoroughly silly-sounding practice called gazumping, I found that it was genuine, but I’m still about 95% sure that a comment about Welsh pronunciation isn’t.

On buildingsâ€”now I understand why some people I have known who tried to move to the UK have ended up returning to America! I could never grasp it before; it seemed such a wonderful place! But it turns out there are no agents to look after the buyer during the sale of a property, no contract to keep all of your work from being for naught, and no requirement for the seller to share information about the property, forcing the seller to pay for an expensive survey for any house in which they might be interested. To an American, this seems crazy!

Collins does an excellent job in describing all of the quaint old buildings around Hay, as well as the village and its denizens. I appreciated that he and his wife wanted a home with a lot of history, but understood completely when they eventually gave up their search after being stymied by outrageous asking prices, weird stipulations about proceeds from land sales, and daunting renovations. My desire to visit the UK is as strong as it ever was, but I’m also left with the impression that I really wouldn’t want to live there. Even if their TV is awesome.

Collins has written several other works of nonfiction, including one called Banvard’s Folly (subtitled Thirteen Tales of People That Didn’t Change the World) that gets mentioned a good bit in this narrative. It seems he also is instrumental in bringing forth some of the lost gems that he loves so much, like English as She is Spoke, a phrasebook written by men who didn’t actually speak English. I hope to read both of these at some point, if the library is successful in acquiring them on my behalf.

Additional reviews of Sixpence House can be found at Triple Take.

J’s Take on Sixpence House by Paul Collins

I can’t remember how Sixpence House: Lost in a Town of Books caught my attention, but it’s clear why it did. It’s a book about a little town full of used/antiquarian bookstores. And that town is in Wales! It’s Hay-on-Wye, and I’m afraid now any trip to the UK is not only not going to be complete without a trip to the Platform 9 3/4’s sign and an even geekier trip to Cardiff, but now I need to at least spend an hour or two in Hay-on-Wye.

It’s easier to describe this book before you’ve read it. Like, I probably would’ve called it a travelogue, except… for ‘travel’ there’s the assumption that you’re going to a place for a finite amount of time and then going home, or alternatively, traveling on to another place and another in a continental or world tour. But in this book, the author and his wife and small child pack up to sell their home in San Francisco and move to Wales. Without, apparently, a whole lot of research. They supposedly know the UK and Hay-on-Wye in particular, from relatives born there and from past trips, yet they’re surprised that they don’t get a real estate agent because they’re buyers, not sellers? Even I knew the real estate market there was rather goofy. And then they’re also rather surprised when all the cool, old buildings they’re interested in need a lot of upkeep, and they realize they’re not prepared for that. Heckuvan expensive and time-consuming learning experience, if you ask me.

But the book is full of random bits of information, gleaned from old books. Facts, anecdotes, quotes, and just interesting little tidbits. So you really get a sense of this town just from the way he’s written the book. A couple really stood out to me. Right at the start, we learn that the Harry Potter printruns used up most of the publishing industry’s paper for a brief period of time. Logical, amazing, amusing, and something I hadn’t heard before. True? Or just something that should be true?

Because when I finished the book, I wasn’t sure what was true and what wasn’t. Yes, this is a real town, so you might assume names have been changed to protect the innocent, but he doesn’t say this up front. And how do you write about such a small town and mention it by name and still disguise the identities of the people you’re talking about? At the end, he tells us some of the names of people and places are made up. But we don’t know which ones!

There are other parts where I questioned the honesty of what I was being presented. Where there’s a bit of dialogue in which a vital bit of information is shared in an amusing way. Did he really not know that information before that moment? Are the conversations all really that pithy and eccentric? My disbelief has trouble being suspended when I’m supposedly reading a nonfiction book, so my credulity was strained.

Interspersed with talk of the UK, Hay-on-Wye, and books, is mention of his own books. He’s in the middle of the publishing aspects of his first book. We hear about his first reading, sort of. We hear about his proof edits. We also hear about a couple of his novels that weren’t published.

Which leads into a quote I wanted to share.

… that twee little fable that writers like to pass off on gullible readers, that a character can develop a will of his own and “take over a book.” This makes writing sound supernatural and mysterious, like possession by the faeries. The reality tends to involve a spare room, a pirated copy of MS Word, and a table bought on sale at Target. A character can no more take over your novel than an eggplant and a jar of cumin can take over your kitchen.

He’s dead wrong here. Not all novels are written this way, and some are more about plot, setting, or theme than they are about three-dimensional characters, but many are. Once you know a character well enough, you know what they’ll say and do, and what they won’t say and won’t do, even if you need them to for the purposes of the plot. This topic is probably an essay in itself, involving references to psychology and neuroscience and our mental constructions of other people. Suffice it to say that I feel sorry for him that he doesn’t grasp this essential truth, and that it didn’t surprise me to learn that his novels had yet to be published.

At the end of the book, I rather wondered what the whole point of it was. It was like a journey without a destination. You may say the whole point is the journey, but there’s still something unsatisfying about not arriving anywhere at the end of it.

It was an amusing, entertaining read, and made me wish I cared more about old books. Unfortunately, the science fiction genre is relatively new as far as old books go, and I prefer modern fantasies to very old ones, so I have trouble coming up with any topic or author I’d be seeking out in old bookstores in Wales. Honestly, I don’t care to own an old copy of a book I already have a new copy of. It’s still the same book. So if I was seeking anything out, it’d be obscure books. How do you find obscure books of quality?

For the readability and entertainment, I’ll give this three stars. For the ending and the author’s low, for lack of a better word, likeability factor, I’m only giving it three stars.