John Gordon’s English Weblog

In addition to On Writing, I also bought Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie for 11 kuai outside of the Chaoyangmen subway station. The fonts on each page are all the same size, and the pages aren’t distorted, but the subtitle on the front cover reads “an old man, a young man, ife’s greatest lesson”. Rather than excitement at the chance to learn ife’s greatest lesson, I picked up Tuesdays with Morrie becuase I’d heard of it, and because I imagined it would tell a good story.

And yes, it was a good story. Mitch Albom was a 37-year-old workaholic sportswriter seeking happiness through increasing his paycheck when he saw his favorite professor from college on Nightline dying of Lou Gehrig’s disease. He sought out his professor, and began a dialogue on life and death.

Ife’s greatest lesson seems to be that only when you learn how to die do you learn how to live. That point probably could have been made by simply repeating one sentence a few times, but there’s much more to the story. In many ways, Tuesdays with Morrie is similar to On Writing, in that they both tell personal stories of lessons learned, and the view of the process experienced by the authors (and their subjects) is at least as valuable as the points made.

I don’t know how to die, and simply saying “live each day as if it’s your last” doesn’t resonate with me all that much, but Tuesdays with Morrie did.

I picked up Stephen King’s On Writing outside the Chaoyangmen subway station a week or so ago before meeting Ray for lunch. The paperback cost eleven kuai, it came wrapped in plastic, and the words on some of the pages were large and somewhat distorted, as if the book had been lifted off of the glass as the copier light passed underneath.

The Tommyknockers might be the only Stephen King book I’ve ever read, although I have seen The Shining and The Green Mile. I don’t remember the story, but I remember finding it on the shelf in Nancy Parcifal’s classroom during Writing Quest, our seventh grade writing course. I probably enjoyed The Tommyknockers, but apparently not enough to induce me to read any other Stephen King books. I bought On Writing because I wanted to have something to read on the road, and because I’d seen it referred to and quoted online, and it sounded interesting.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me, because I seem to have enjoyed every book I’ve picked up over the past couple of months. In On Writing, King tells his story of developing as a writer, shares his thoughts on the process of writing, and finishes with thoughts on life and writing through the lens of his being hit by a truck in 1999 (the book was published in 2000). The title is On Writing because King is a writer, but many of the stories and lessons are applicable to any profession and any life. The importance of nurturing discipline, doing what one loves, having a support system, and working through challenges may seem obvious, but King’s personal examples offer fresh reminders and a unique perspective.

Now… I think I’m going to read The Stand first, and then maybe Misery.

Miracle at Philadelphia surprised me. I picked it up at Mike’s place on a whim, along with a pile of other books that looked interesting. It sat on my shelf at home for a couple of months before I picked it up one day to start reading. The 1966 original publication date turned me off, as I have an unfair prejudice against books, particularly history books about well-known subjects, written before I was born. I know it’s not fair, but I tend to believe that, if the subject is well-trodden, someone has probably written about it in the last ten or twenty years in a way that is more accessible to the average reader, and also includes the latest information that might have been found in a box or cave somewhere.

So I was surprised and excited to find myself becoming engrossed in the story of the Constitutional Convention of 1787 as told by Catherine Drinker Brown. Brown (or should it be Drinker Brown?) tied together primary sources in a way that brought the characters, debates and times to life. As all great history books should, Miracle at Philadelphia made me want to travel back in time to experience the events it described. I suppose that in a way it allowed me to come close to experiencing the events even without the benefit of a time machine.

One of the great pleasures of the book was learning about small facts or anecdotes that I might have learned in high school but since forgotten.

• Benjamin Franklin, at 81 years old, was the oldest member of the convention.
• Thomas Jefferson was in Europe at the time
• George Washington was the chair of the convention, and it was considered a virtual certainty that he would be president at the head of the resulting government; in fact, some wondered if members of the convention were willing to give more power of the executive branch simply because they knew that Washington would be President.
• When the question of whether to hold a ratifying convention came before the Pennsylvania legislature, it became clear that the convention would be approved, and opponents of the constitution locked themselves in their lodgings to prevent a vote. A mob broke into the hotel and dragged two members to the convention in order to reach a quorum, whereupon the Constitution was ratified. Didn’t something similar just happen in Texas?

Another fascinating aspect of the book was the collection of sources that Brown used. James Madison took the most complete notes of the convention, but the book weaves together notes and journals from several attendees of the convention, the official record, and letters sent before and after the convention. The clarity of thought exhibited by these men both inspires me and leaves me with an odd feeling of shame. I hope that the inspiration/shame leads me to keep a better journal and write more letters. I know that this book leaves me wanting to read a lot more about this period of US history.

My grandmother gave me a copy of Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope for Christmas this year. I finally got around to reading it while filming in Fujian last month. In short, at this point I’m probably going to vote for Obama.

First of all, the book is a great read. It’s organized into broadly-titled chapters such as “Values”, “Politics”, “Race”, “The World Beyond Our Borders”, and “Family”, which, despite sounding a bit cheesy, end up being a great way for Obama to present his values and ideas. Most chapters begin with a short vignette from his own experience, and many end by returning to the same vignette or presenting a related one. It probably says something about the way I feel about the current state of politics in the US that I got goose-bumps at the end of quite a few chapters.

What I found so refreshing about this book was Obama’s honesty and, yes, his hope. He writes frankly about the temptations of politics, and how lobbyists and interest groups do get special access to politicians, if not always special consideration. He describes the difficulties facing many minority communities in US cities, admits that the problems can seem intractable, and presents specific steps that he believes can improve the situation. He admits that the reputation of the United States has been damaged, and he outlines steps to improve it.

Perhaps most importantly to me, he comes across as someone who is open about his values, thinks deeply about issues and decisions, and is respectful of the values of others.

My least favorite part of the book was the subtitle. I think “Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream” sounds sort of silly to me, even if may be rather apt.