I Want To Buy Everyone This Book

Dear Liz Gilbert,

My sister and I watched Eat Pray Love on opening night. We loved it (as in actually loved it – not just saying “loved it” for exaggeration) because we both adore travel and because we both enjoy food. Of course, we were very fond of its message too. Soon after, we read the book. Your book. Since then, the answer I have given (still give today) to anyone asking, “So. Who is your favourite author?” has been/still is, you.

It was midway through my last year of university, when assignments were becoming lethal that I listened to your famous Ted talk. You talked of creativity in a way I had never heard before. Suddenly, the pressures and anxieties around writing the perfect essay were out the door. Instead, I showed up to my study table, I made time and I worked and I worked and I worked until my muse/genius/inspiration was convinced I was serious and in Maya Angelo’s words, spoke, “Okay. Okay. I’ll come.” And it did. Just as you’d promised it would. And it got me through. I passed and I felt invincible. If only I had though of creativity in this limitless way before.

One week ago, I bought your latest work Big Magic at the Geneva airport bookstore. I am in love and I don’t know how to thank you. It is liberating, humorous, inspiring and above all, real. I aspire to write like you, in a manner that’s both intelligent and conversational, serious and loving, funny and true.

I want to buy everyone this book!
Do whatever brings you to life, then. Follow your own fascinations, obsessions, and compulsions. Trust them. Create whatever causes a revolution in your heart.
It’s a simple and generous rule of life that whatever you practice, you will improve at.
But to yell at your creativity, saying, “You must earn money for me!” is sort of like yelling at a cat; it has no idea what you’re talking about, and all you’re doing is scaring it away, because you’re making really loud noises and your face looks weird when you do that.
(All quotes by Elizabeth Gilbert form Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear)

All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten

The bookstores, the public libraries and the school libraries in rural Japan don’t really store English-language books. If they do, they’re Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood. Fortunately for me, my dear friends and neighbours, Olivier and Hiromi Charles have a small collection of which I’m able to borrow. Through limited choice, I’ve had the opportunity to read some books which I wouldn’t originally judge by the cover and pick up at a bookstore. All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten: Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things by Robert Fulghum is not like any book I’ve ever read before. In fact, I believe it is more of a blog than a novel. Each chapter, written in casual first-person covers a random topic of Fulghum’s choice. The book does not work as a whole, rather as well, blog posts, snippets of musings on the author and his/our world. As per Fulghums own advice, there is no hurry in finishing it, it is best read a little bit at a time. Seeing as you’re already here and reading this blog post, I’d say you can enjoy literature in a short but sweet dose (yes, I just complimented my own prose) which makes this book perfect for you. Also, for those of us who enjoy learned advice, life wisdom and killer quotes.

“These are the things I learned (in Kindergarten):

1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don’t hit people.
4. Put things back where you found them.
5. CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS.
6. Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
7. Say you’re SORRY when you HURT somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life – learn some and drink some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Stryrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamster and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – LOOK.”

Ristorante Cielo: My First Fine-Dining In Japan

Juri (my friend Yuko’s daughter), passed all of her Junior High School examinations! So, we celebrated in our favorite way by eating things delicious. Last night, I had my first experience of fine-dining in Japan. As per Yuko’s choosing, we went to Ristorante Cielo, an Italian eatery in Tsuyama. It was of the highest quality, melt-in-your-mouth delicious. The waitress, a beautiful young Japanese woman, made the effort to describe each course to me in English. She was so sweet. When settling the bill, I asked her what overseas countries (if any) she had visited to which she replied “Italy” followed by an explanation of her love for the Italian countryside and the traditional foods served there. Unfortunately, I can’t remember all of the explanations as I was too busy accidentally eating everything (tsk tsk) so please bear with me with the following explanations. For starters, we had sashimi of some fish with pomelo or sweet-lemon. Entree (Yuko’s favorite), home-made pasta with wild-boar and brussels sprout sauce. Main (my favorite), white fish (sorry I don’t know which!!) with root vegetables and anchovy dressing. Dessert (Juri’s favorite), cannoli Siciliana filled with sweet ricotta cheese served with ice-cream and blood-orange. Mama mia! I want to go again. Thank you Yuko and Papa (Yuko’s husband) for shouting me such an extravagant dinner. Five stars!

Tuesdays with Morrie

I’ve never had the blessing of a constant elderly person in my life. This is because, when my family migrated to New Zealand from Iran, me and my grandparents became separated by seemingly infinite miles. Growing up, I envied my friends and the close relationship they had with their nana and pops’ – in particular, Kiwi grandmas! Compared to the old people in Iran, these women were so healthy, care-free and always occupied with baking biscuits and pavlovas.

When I grew older, learnt English and became exposed to literature and media, my yearnings intensified. The grandparents in the books I read and the movies I watched were almost always offering kind and valuable guidance to their grandchild. Where was my life-changing, my eye-opening advice?

Eventually, I must have reached a point where I let go of the resentment and accepted my life, for the absence stopped bothering me as much.

Reading Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie, reminded me of that intense longing I had consciously (or subconsciously) buried inside. Tuesdays with Morrie is a light read, a short book (I read it in one sitting) but SO full of love. Love, guidance and wisdom. From an old man to a young man and ultimately, everyone.

“The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.”
(p. 42)

“So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.” (p. 43)

“ . . . If you’ve found meaning in your life you don’t want to go back. You want to go forward. You want to see more, do more. You can’t wait until sixty-five.”
(p. 118)

4/5

 

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

“When winter came, I decided to read.”- Anisa Kazemi

According to Mark Haddon himself, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (2003) is not based on Asperges nor any other specific disorder, “if anything it’s a novel about difference, about being an outsider, about seeing the world in a surprising and revealing way.”

Which is an accurate way of putting it for it’s definitely not the same as another. Firstly, the chapters aren’t like usual chapters. Instead, the story progresses through prime numbers: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17 etc. Next, Haddon challenges typical story conventions. His chapters are often too short, his sentences too lengthy and his prose/his protagonist, Christopher’s prose, too random. However; that is what I (and many others since he’s won loads of awards) consider so refreshing about it. Haddon’s mystery novel really does make you see in a new way.

Haddon achieves this by comparing most people’s thought processes to that of Christopher’s: which is paying immaculate attention to detail and living in the moment. While most people would be thinking “I’m worried that I might have left the gas cooker on,” and “I wonder if Julie has given birth yet,” in a cow field, Christopher would be inspecting/admiring the different shades of grass and the contrast of the surrounding flowers, sky, animals and architecture against them. In other words, Haddon/Christopher examine the every-day and the mundane so closely and so objectively that they become extraordinary again – since we tend to overlook/ignore them in this busy busy day and age.

I laughed, I cringed, I empathised with the Christopher and I continued to think about him after the book had ended – all the good things. I totes recommend it and so does good ole Ian:

“A superb achievement. He is a wise and bleakly funny writer with rare gifts of empathy” -Ian McEwan, author of Atonement.

3.8/5