The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

One of my favorite books that we read in my book club is a memoir by Jeannette Walls named The Glass Castle. The book begins with the author in a New York City taxicab all gussied up to go to a fancy schmancy event. When the cab took a shortcut through an alley, she saw a woman rooting through a dumpster. When she realized that this woman was her own mother, Walls slid down her seat and asked the driver to take her home. The Glass Castle then goes on to explain how her life ended up in this scene of contrasts.

Saturday night I saw Jeannette Walls speak at the Marin Center. By a strange coincidence, I happened to be the one who let her in the building when she arrived one hour before show time. I only had a chance to say that I was pleased as punch to meet her and that I loved her book before the official Marin Center person came to greet her. What I really wanted to do was steal off to have a cup of tea with her. She was already impeccably dressed with full stage make-up. Did she really need a full hour to do a sound check? I knew we would get along because we had so much in common.

Early in The Glass Castle, Walls relates the story about how she burned herself at age three when she was cooking a hot dog for herself. At around age three, I too burned myself. We were living in Lawang on the island of Java in  Indonesia where my parents ran a small satellite factory for my grandmother. The factory produced bottled tropical fruit syrups similar to the Torani fruit syrups used to make Italian sodas. The floor had just been mopped and, while I was running, I slipped and fell into one of the large, low vats of molten sugar that were lined up along the gangway. The right side of my torso, my right arm, and part of my face were immersed. I did not need skin grafts like Walls because I was fortunate that my mother knew of a very good German doctor in Lawang. He gave me a shot, no doubt for the pain, and dispensed a white cream in a tube to rub over my burns. I wish I knew what this salve was because everywhere my mother applied the medicine, there is no trace of the burn. The only place where I have a scar is behind my ear where my hair obscured the wound from my mother. Whenever I go to a new hairdresser I get to explain this story because there is an ugly scar and no hair growing behind my right ear. I often think how different my life would have been if my mother had not known of this doctor.

I dislike author talks that only rehash stories already contained in their book, though I do appreciate hearing a passage or two read in the author's voice. Walls only related stories from her book to give context to her anecdotes. She quickly told the story of her burning accident in order to explain how accepting her husband is of her skin graft scars by referring to them as interesting and textured, not smooth and boring. I now know what to say the next time I see my hair dresser.

Another way my life was like Walls' is that our fathers were both dreamers. Where Walls' father "skedaddled" from city to city and state to state, my father skedaddled us from country to country, continent to continent chasing the dream for a better life. . I was a teenager when my father made noises of pulling up stakes to move to Canada or Australia, but this time we were older and more independent so we told him to go without us.  We were no fools; we knew it didn't get better than California. My father chose to stay.

Like Walls, it was education that catapulted us into a new life. It is doubtful that my sisters and I would have gotten the same quality education as we got at UC Berkeley for $212.50 per quarter had we lived elsewhere.

Walls told of a young reluctant reader who carried The Glass Castle around with him everywhere. When his teacher asked him what it was about that book that he loved, he said, "That there is a fine white trash story." Then she talked about a young privileged cheerleader that she met in the Carribean who said that Walls' book convinced her to never make fun of a classmate again. Walls then exclaimed in her charming Southern drawl, "The Lord can strike me down right now!" because she was able to connect with people from both ends of the spectrum.

I sincerely hope that the Lord will keep you around for lots longer because we like the likes of you and look forward to reading your next book in October.

For a clip of Jeannette and her mother, click below:

For the Simon & Schuster reading guide, click here.

Interview with Relyn

questions questions by Rock Alien at flickr

Our neighborhood of the blogosphere has caught an interview virus. Relyn at Come Sit By My Fire caught it from Willow of Life at Willow Manor and I caught it from Relyn. The idea is that Relyn offered to interview those who choose to participate. Participants, in turn, will offer to interview their readers. The rules are at the end of this post.

I decided ask Relyn to interview me. Thank you Relyn for your thoughtful questions! Here are three of her five questions.

1. You can I know that you are fluent in more than one language. Please tell us about that. How many languages do you speak and read? Do you have much occasion to use languages other than English in your current daily life? Do you find yourself thinking in your original language or in English? (OK. I can count. I know that's three. What can I say? I'm interested.

I don’t speak as many languages as you would think.

photo by yeowatzup at flickr

I was born in Java, Indonesia where we spoke Indonesian which is a derivative of Malay.

Photo by thegshow at flickr

When I was almost six years old we moved to Amsterdam, The Netherlands. My father was eager for us to learn Dutch, because he wanted us to succeed in school, so he spoke exclusively Dutch to us as soon as we were able to comprehend it. My mother had no interest in perpetuating Indonesian in our household since she didn’t have very many good memories from seven years in Java. It didn’t take long for me to almost entirely loose the Indonesian language, except I can still order from an Indonesian menu. I’m very grateful for this skill because Indonesian food is spectacularly delicious.

Photo by FogBay

When I was eleven we moved to the US. We all regretted that my sisters and I did not retain Indonesian, so when we came to America we did make an effort to continue to speak Dutch. My Dutch is not very good any more because it’s been over forty years since I last lived in Holland. When I speak Dutch to a native speaker, I get a lot of funny looks. Once, a Dutch friend said to me, “Speaking to you is like speaking to a time capsule”.

Another one said, “What are you, eighty years old?”

All living languages evolve over time but since I am not exposed to Dutch very much, my Dutch vocabulary never grew or evolved, and in fact seriously faded. We don’t go back to the Netherlands very often, but when we do, it takes a couple of days for the Dutch to reply back in Dutch to me. When they hear my fractured attempt, they automatically speak in English to me. It’s humiliating.

When my daughter was born, I intermittently spoke Dutch to her for the first couple of years of her life but she really didn’t tolerate it very well. She would squeeze my lips together and say, “No, Mommy, no”. When my son was born, I resolved to speak Dutch to him one hundred percent of the time. I lasted until he was about three or four years old, but my Dutch was not strong enough to carry on a nuanced conversation. I rarely speak Dutch to my kids any more, strictly due to my laziness, but they both understand my personal “eighty-year-old” version of Dutch.

Every few months I get a stack of Dutch gossip magazines passed down from one of my mother’s friends. I try to plow through them before I get the next stack. It’s not my first choice of reading but it can be very entertaining to read about Madonna, Brad and Angelina from the Dutch point of view.

As for other languages, I took French in junior high, German in high school, a couple of quarters of French in college, and one semester of Italian at a local community college just prior to our trip to Italy in 2005. Of these, German is my strongest language, but it’s nothing to brag about. I’m told I speak German with a Dutch accent even though I learned it in America.

With the exception of a few unique words or phrases here and there, I think exclusively in English.

2. You have excellent taste in children's and young adult literature. How did that come about? What is it about that genre that appeals to you?

Peggy Rathmann's Officer Buckle and Gloria

When we lived in Amsterdam, my father was a scientific editor for Elsevier, a very old publishing company, so were surrounded by books at all times. I still own the two volumes of fairy tales that I read over and over again as a child. Books are great tools to teach, comfort, and inspire anybody, but I believe they are especially important for children.

I have many fond memories of reading to my children when they were younger. We read every night at bedtime; it is a fantastic way to end the day on an up note. When the kids were in the picture book phase, we went to the children’s library every Wednesday afternoon and we usually checked out forty books, the maximum allowed. It didn't take long for us to all forty books every week.

My favorite gifts for babies and young children are books because you can never have too many books. As a consequence, people often ask me for book recommendations for their children. Now I list many children’s and young reader books on my Goodreads list, so I just give them a link.

My hope is that my children will be lifelong readers.

  3. You have traveled extensively, including time in the Galapagos Islands. Please tell us your favorite travel destination and share why you love it so much.

My favorite travel destination is my next destination. I know that’s cheating, but since you cheated on the number of questions…

The reason why I say that is that I’m always yearning to see new places, meet new people, observe new animals, buy new things, eat new foods, touch new buildings, see new art, and experience new experiences. I enjoy the planning of a trip almost as much as going on the trip itself. Now, with blogging, I think I will enjoy reliving it and sharing it as another dimension of the trip.

I am currently making our summer plans, but I'm not quite ready to reveal the destination yet. It will be a surprise.

Next time I will answer Relyn's remaining two questions.

If you would like to be interviewed by me, leave me a note in the comment section. Give me a few days to send your five questions. Here's the scoop:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.