"The Twilight Zone" by Nona Fernandez

  • Jun. 2nd, 2025 at 5:53 PM
Last night I finished The Twilight Zone by Nona Fernandez, book #9 from the "Women in Translation" rec list. This book was translated from Spanish by Natasha Wimmer.
 
The Twilight Zone is a nonfiction book, part memoir, part investigative journalism piece by Fernandez, first published in 2016. It concerns Fernandez's study of and memories of growing up under the Pinochet dictatorship in Chile. The author is haunted by the traumas of the regime, both those she experienced firsthand and those she heard about from others, and the book in some ways feels like an exercise in simply trying to reconcile those feelings.
 
Fernandez's book is of course very specific to the Chilean experience, and yet core parts of her incisive commentary about both the absurdity and the cruelty of autocracies rings true around the world. The exercises the regime goes through in its constant quest for self-preservation are both ridiculous and brutal, feelings Fernandez captures in her title. The surrealist sci-fi hit show of the 70s fits very well as a metaphor for the often-flailing yet eminently dangerous police state. 
 
Fernandez does an excellent job of using her prose to say things not neatly spelled out in words. I was reminded of reading The Things They Carried in high school, and how revelatory it seemed to me at the time how the author could use the style of prose to suggest a character's mental disarrangement without simply saying he was deranged. Fernandez's prose stood out to me in a similar way—how she uses the structure of her words to capture the feelings at play.
 
Equally compelling is the obviously copious amounts of research Fernandez put into her work. She portrays herself as a woman consumed by a quest to find answers about this regime, and it comes across in her work. Names, dates, places, timelines — Fernandez has clearly put in the leg work to piece together the final days of the highlighted victims of the regime as much as can be done. 
 
However, the book never comes across like a textbook. Fernandez ably weaves her research into a compelling narrative. Neither does she ever seek to blur the line between the facts and her imagination—she keeps a clean line between what she knows and what she wonders, or imagines. Nevertheless, the questions and suppositions that populate Fernandez's mind feel regrettably natural for anyone in the aggravating circumstances of a mendacious autocracy. She does an excellent job of showing how crazy-making it is to live under such a government, where you are constantly being lied to in direct contradiction of visible facts, and yet there seems to be nothing you can do but either accept the truth or taste the knuckles of the regime. 
 
I really enjoyed this read. It breezed by and I can absolutely see what a national treasure Fernandez is as a writer! I would love to see if more of her work has been translated into English; she has a wonderful voice.

Yesterday I wrapped up one of my few anticipated non-fiction reads of the year: Anti-Intellectualism in American Life by Richard Hofstadter. 
 
This book reaches back to America's foundation to trace its often hostile relationship with its own intelligentsia and the impact that's had on American society and development. This book was published the year my mom was born—1963—and was reflecting on the political attitudes of its day, yet much of it, particularly in the introductory chapters, feels like it could have been written yesterday. Plainly, America is still struggling with a recurrent animosity towards the very concept of an educated class.
 
Because it was written in 1963, parts of it are dated, in terms of attitudes and terminology. But on the whole, Hofstadter provides a thoughtful and comprehensive look at the influence of various individuals and groups, both the good and the bad (for instance, while he notes the well-documented shortcomings of Puritan society, he also notes they placed much more value on an educated populace than the Evangelical traditions which eventually overpowered them.)
 
The book is obviously well-researched, and Hofstadter does a thorough job of documenting his sources and influences, as well as recommending additional reading on a broad range of topics touched on in his own book. So much of what he establishes here makes perfect sense when looking at modern American society. He so neatly threads the needle between where we started and where we are now that at some moments, it felt like the fog was lifting on something I should have seen ages ago. 
 
While I would love to read a more modern, updated version of Hofstadter's exploration, even this dated one provides ample useful information for the current political state of the country. In short, there has always been a significant interest in this county not only in not glorifying education, but in resisting education (and Hofstadter elucidates the tension between these attitudes and the country's commitment to free childhood education when such a thing was not common).
 
It does make for heavy reading; Hofstadter's prose does not breeze by, but the points he's making feel important enough that it was more than worth it to take my time. Would not recommend reading right before bed though.
 
Highly recommend for fellow Americans and anyone seeking to understand the current climate of idiocy and rule by clowns to which we are subject. I'm not sure how we can definitively put down these attitudes of anti-intellectualism, but understanding their sources and history must be a start.

Review: The Plant Kitchen

  • Nov. 9th, 2024 at 8:19 PM
The Plant Kitchen: 100 easy recipes for vegan beginners
Hardcover – January 14, 2020
by Ryland Peters & Small (Author)


We finished reading this cookbook today. It's not all that big, but some pages do have more than one recipe. The Introduction is just a couple paragraphs about plant-based eating. The chapters are Basic Recipes, Breakfast & Brunch, Light Bites & Snacks, Soups & Sides, Mid-Week Suppers, Feeding a Crowd, and Sweet Things. The Index seems to go primarily by main ingredients.

Read more... )

Book Review: In Defense of Witches

  • Oct. 26th, 2024 at 11:37 AM
Book #4 of the "Women in Translation" library rec list has been In Defense of Witches: The Legacy of the Witch Hunts and Why Women are Still on Trial by Mona Chollet, translated from French by Sophie R. Lewis.

Centuries after the infamous witch hunts that swept through Europe and America, witches continue to hold a unique fascination for many: as fairy tale villains, practitioners of pagan religion, as well as feminist icons. Witches are both the ultimate victim and the stubborn, elusive rebel. But who were the women who were accused and often killed for witchcraft? What types of women have centuries of terror censored, eliminated, and repressed?

Celebrated feminist writer Mona Chollet explores three types of women who were accused of witchcraft and persecuted: the independent woman, since widows and celibates were particularly targeted; the childless woman, since the time of the hunts marked the end of tolerance for those who claimed to control their fertility; and the elderly woman, who has always been an object of at best, pity, and at worst, horror. Examining modern society, Chollet concludes that these women continue to be harrassed and oppressed. Rather than being a brief moment in history, the persecution of witches is an example of society’s seemingly eternal misogyny, while women today are direct heirs to those who were hunted down and killed for their thoughts and actions. With fiery prose and arguments that range from the scholarly to the cultural, In Defense of Witches seeks to unite the mythic image of the witch with modern women who seek to live their lives on their own terms.
 
There's no doubt that Chollet has done her research here. I appreciated how often her claims and arguments were supported with quotes, events, other studies, and even the occasional fictional novel giving a display of attitudes of the times (although I do think we could have used fewer fictional examples).
 
However, as other readers have remarked...the book doesn't really have much to do with witches. I was most engaged at the start, when Chollet was digging into the witch trials of 15th and 16th century Europe, giving details on the events and attitudes as well as sharing the stories of some individual women. She validly criticizes how no other mass killings in history so broadly get the "haha well that happened" treatment.
 
She also traces quite effectively how the attitudes developed during the witch hunts persisted long after. The disgust with the female body (witches were often accused of copulating with the devil, and frequently shaved head to toe before their trials to find the "devil's mark"), the policing of women's behavior (being too gregarious could be a sign of being a witch—but so could being too withdrawn and isolated), the mistrust and revulsion around old women (whose accumulated knowledge and low tolerance for mistreatment made them particular targets during the hunts). 
 
But after the first chapter (the book is divided into four chunky chapters), witches mostly fade into the background and the book becomes a generalized critique of misogyny, mainly in French and American society. I would have liked to see her draw more on the legacy of the witch trials to at least parallel with some more modern instances of misogyny, such as the lingering mistrust of career women, especially those without children.
 
The witch, at her core, represents things society still struggles to accept in women: she is usually single (and therefore not affiliated with or under the dominion of a man), often educated (many accused witches were practicing midwives or healers), generally childless (potentially rejecting the "natural calling" of all women to motherhood), frequently post-menopausal (and therefore undesirable--an unforgivable crime in a woman) and in short: independent. The witch is not beholden to anyone—father, husband, church, or child (thus, medieval witch hunters had to place her under the ultimate control of the devil, a male figure)--and acts solely in her own interests and in pursuit of her own pleasure, which made her intolerable, and in many ways, women are still viewed this way.
 
Chollet makes a lot of good points about historical and lingering misogyny, but I do feel she belabors the point in some cases, and by the fourth chapter feels like she's lost the thread entirely on the original thesis, becoming more of a diatribe against the medical field and the "cult of rationalism" than an examination of "women on trial" or the legacy of the witch hunts.
 
However, on the whole, the book was still interesting. It's not a fun read, to be clear: being reminded of the many ways in which women have been hated for merely existing and are still looked down on today is not enjoyable--but it is important to remember these things, not only to see what progress we have made, but to understand what progress is still needed.

Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud

  • Jun. 17th, 2024 at 8:18 PM
So into my foray into reading more regularly again I picked this book up last year, read it and loved it, and I loved it so much that this year I will be re-reading it again because it is that helpful. I originally got this book because I wanted to improve my own comics and I finished feeling like I had gotten more than I could ever hoped for.

Understanding Comics is exactly what it says on the tin, learning how the medium of comic books work.

Read more... )