The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake- Aimee Bender

Another Book Club pick, another fantastic title. It is hard to find a book with a child as the narrator or a story written from a child’s perspective, that is not either too precocious or purposefully disingenuous. This book gets around that hurdle by growing up with the child. Not exactly novel, but somehow still refreshing, just like lemon cake
Lemon Cake is about the loss of innocence at the tender age of eight and the protagonist’s struggle to cope with it. The crux of the story is what would one do if one could feel other people’s emotions? Would it be as exhilarating as one expects or would it be too much information. Despite the fact that it is about the most dysfunctional family one has ever come across, there is a strange sense of optimism about the book. Whether it is in the protagonist’s search for a semblance of normalcy or in her final acceptance of the inevitable, I am not sure, but at the end of the book I certainly had that feeling of…contentment, for want of a better word.

It is not an exceptional book, not like a Goodman novel or a Kingsolver epic or even a mere Atwood. But it is a good book. More importantly, a well written book. Bender steers a tricky course between the sappy-ness of Hosseini and the disingenuity of Haddon which I find refreshing. There is no trickery like Audrey Niffenegger either. There are elements of bizzare-ness, but it doesn’t feel artificial or let-us-add-something-totally-bonkers-here-just-because-we-can feel either. Altogether it ended the way it should have without any obvious high-handedness by the author.

Me likes, me recommends. You go read.

The Indian Tree- part II

(Cont. from here)

All through that winter and for most of the following spring, the Stranger stayed among the 5  Cahokians families near the great lake. When summer reared its humid and hot head, he moved further inland to visit the major cities of Shigaugogoa. Everywhere he went, he was welcomed with a friendliness  that was characteristic of the people. He was with the children during their play and with the elders at their chores. And although later on, they could never tell what exactly he did, they always felt that the most sedate games and mundane chores were somehow different with him present. Wherever the stranger went he always seemed to bring about a subtle change. At first it was hardly noticeable, maybe just a new thought or a strange feeling that had no name. But by insensible degrees, these materialized into ideas or coalesced into new and specific emotions.

By the time the year rolled round to a close, even the King became aware of the Stranger. No one mentioned the Stranger to him, for after all, every summer there are plenty of strangers in town. But, nevertheless, the King knew deep down in some forgotten corner of his consciousness that things were changing. He wasn’t sure if or even what he should do about it but he asked the Stranger to be brought to his palace. And so one crisp autumn day, the Stranger was brought to the King’s presence and the King said,

” Welcome to my kingdom, Stranger. How do you find your stay so far?”

“Very well, O King” said the stranger bowing.

“Are my people treating you with the kindness due to a visitor? Are you in need of anything at all?”, tried the King again.

“Yes, they are, thank you, King. I have no needs”.

Stymied, the King could think of nothing else to say or ask without sounding rude. For to ask someone news about themselves, like where they are from or what they are doing here, was considered very rude in Shigaugogoa, you see. Only from the littlest of children or those of unsound mind were  these questions tolerated, and even then, they were quickly silenced and the subject changed. The Cahokians were very proud of their manners and would consider it a great insult to themselves to act in any unmannerly way. Thus the King could gain no information from the Stranger and was still as uneasy as before he met him.

Finally, the King decided that the best he could do was to ask the advice of the Manitou. Now the King was a great favorite of the wind and water Manitou, you see. During the great fire of twenty years ago (caused by the drought of 20 years ago as I told you earlier, remember?), he had paid great homage to these Manitou. He had prayed for 3 days and 3 nights at a stretch while the fire raged around him. He ate nothing, saw on one and  his whole body was concentrated on the great spirit of Kitchesmanetoa. At last, at the end of the third day, the Kitchesmanetoa, relented and sent the wind and water Manitou to his aid. By the grace of these Manitou, the wind that fanned the fire died down and the heavens opened and water poured down to extinguish the flames. In the dense smoke that covered the whole of Shigaugogoa after that, legend has it that people saw the human  embodiment of the two Manitou head into the temple where the King was still in prayer. They came back out of the temple with the King, they say, and at the sign of the King, the wind rose again and the smoke was blown away across the great lake. From that day forth, every year the rains were plentiful and at appropriate times, so that the crops planted by the Cahokians flourished, the plains-land beasts like the bison and deer grew fat and numerous and the people never went hungry again.

 So the night of his meeting with the Stranger, the King went to his temple and knelt on the ground. He bowed his head and prayed for the wind and water Manitou to help him. To advice him on what was going to happen to his kingdom and what he should do to keep his Kingdom safe from these changes. But the wind just blew on and the water gurgled away in the stream and the King got no response. But the King did not give up. Everyday after that, once he was done with the day’s duties he would go to the temple and pray for advice until the next day dawned. He was sure he will get an answer.

Meanwhile, the Stranger remained in their midst, spreading change where ever he went. And the changes took various forms, some  subtle like the children inventing new games of their own that their parents could never understand, the women teaching each other the skill of the abrader and people coming from far away to learn the art and in some cases even to buy it. The age-old division of labor between the men and the women started to blur. Some men became proficient in cooking, while some women hunted the best and greatest beasts. Slowly people started making new tools to ease their work, animals were domesticated to help in household chores and new names were invented to go with the new innovations.

Superstific

Superstific (v.)

etymology: scientifically superstitious ; to use dodgy science to support your superstitions.

usage: This news item is superstific.

It is funny how now-a-days everything is scientifically true as long as you use modern technology.  All you need is one positive image and your case is made. And because your study uses modern technology it is all of a sudden “scientific”. It doesn’t matter if you break all the canons of a truly scientific study. Dont bother with controls, or replicates.  But make sure you have hyperbolic extrapolation. If you manage to get a “medical doctor” a “teacher” and “a Yale neurobiologist*” you are good to go.

Take the instance of this “Super Brain Yoga”. See the pretty, bright brain images. Dont ask how lighting up brain hemispheres actually improves brain function. These people tell you it does, so of course it has to be true. Placebo effect is over-rated anyway. Blind study is for the hidebound and controls for the wusses. 

I know you think I am just being nit-picky and incurably skeptic. But actually I have the perfect experiment to make this an actual scientific inquiry.

Here is how I would design this experiment:

1. Placebo:  Tell a bunch of people they have a new exercise that is supposed to increase brain function. Ask them to perform it as you take images of their brains. You can try this one for size:

a. bend your left knee until it reaches the floor.

b. now putting weight on that knee, lower your right knee until it is also on the floor parallel to the left one. Make sure your calves are aligned to each other and your toes are facing down.

c. Now tuck your tail bone in as you straighten your back d. stay like this for a whole half hour .

It is called the kneeling exercise.

2. Blind trial: Get people to do the “Super Brain Yoga” and the Kneeling exercise and take a full body scan (so they are not aware of which organ you are interested in and why.

3. Positive Control: Take brain images of people eating okra

4. Negative Control: Take brain images of people eating curd rice.

Question the appropriateness of my controls? Ask my mom (or for that matter any one from India). We have been told to eat okra to improve our math ability and curd rice for the opposite effect. You think that is just some third world superstition? We have also been told to do “thoppukkaranams” for turning smart. In fact we do it to our “God of Knowledge” which is how the smartness is effected. Make a mistake in a math problem and your teacher would ask you to get up and give her 10 (thoppukkaranams, that is) and for talking too much in class you are sent out to kneel on the floor (hence the placebo)

* his name is Eugenius Ang Jr. . He was a researcher at Yale university school of medicine (around 2009-ish). Google him and you will get a lot of hits about this SBY, even stuff about patents. But not a single scientific article. Also Yale website has no mention of him (alumni or otherwise). Suspect much?

The Indian Tree- Part I

Long ago, in the harsh, marshy lands of Shigaugogoa, there once ruled a wise and just king. He was a true leader of his tribe for he ruled his people with a firm but gentle hand. Shiguagogao was on the banks of a mighty lake and its lands were marshy and hard to cultivate. But the king knew how to both revere and harness the elements, that his people were never lacking in food, shelter or clothing. For this reason, his people loved him very much and always obeyed his laws.

Because of the exceptional marshy nature and prevalence of quicksands around the land right by the great lake, most of the Cahokia (for that is what the people were called) preferred to live further inland. Shawnee and her family were only one of 5 families that lived near the lake. Her nearest neighbors were a day’s walk away on a good day when the wind was low. It was only during summer when the weather got hot and humid did the inland Cahokia move closer to the lake and built their summer longhouses.

One bitter winter morning, there came to Shawnee’s little wigwam at the outermost border of the country, a strange man. He was gaunt and gnarled but seemed to walk on the ice as if it were a cobbled street. His eyes were deep-set and his whole face wore the most stony expression anyone had ever seen. Shawnee was so startled on seeing him at the doorstep,  that she couldn’t help but let out a little squeal of fright. Hearing this, her daughter-in-law came running from her side of the house.

“Where are all your men, O lady?” asked the stranger in a deep, gruff, voice.

” It has been a very rough winter so far and we are running low on meat. So they have gone to see if they cannot find some bison meat. But you are a stranger in these parts, do come in and warm yourself by the stove.” said Shawnee, quickly recovering her composure. Her daughter-in-law brought him a little stool to sit on and they all were soon warmed by the stove while Shawnee stirred the pot with her stew. Soon the only sound was that of the daughter-in-law grinding corn in the mano-matate and the bubbling of the stew. After watching the two women work in companionable silence, the stranger said,

“You both are very quite. Are you quarreling?”

At this the two ladies looked up surprised and broke out laughing. They apologized to the stranger for their apparent rudeness and explained how they were so unused to seeing anyone at all during winter months that they forgot all about making conversation. They then asked him if he was tired after his long journey (he seemed like he had come from far away places) and would he like to rest while they finished cooking.

The stranger thanked them and followed the daughter-in-law to the inner room where he lay himself down on the mat and soon fell fast asleep. When the stranger woke, the faint rays of the setting sun were seen through the chinks and he heard some whispering in the other room. Rightly guessing that the men were back, he came out of the room and stamped his foot 3 times (for that is the form of clearing one’s throat in those parts). He saw there was an elderly man and a younger one and thought “this must be the father and son” and of course he was right.

The father Chaukato came forward, touched his hand to his forehead (as was the custom of greeting guests) and said,

” Welcome to my humble abode, stranger. I am very sorry to have missed your arrival, but we have come back with some good meat from the market. I can now make up for my absence with a nutritious meal that my good wife Shawnee has made”.

“Ah! you must be a very rich country indeed if you have markets in winter too”, said the stranger.

” We have our dear king to thank for that. Every summer he has ordered every household to give their surplus meat and other produce to the royal storehouses. There with the help of the water and earth Manitou (these are spirits, the Manitou) he keeps them until the winter. When we Cahokia can no longer find fresh meat or grow vegetables, the king gives the merchants of the market portions of the stores and we get to buy them from the market.”

“But what do you pay for them?”

“pay?”  asked Chaukato puzzled. The stranger’s speech was slightly different from the Cahokian, you see, so Chaukato didn’t perfectly understand him.

“Do you give the merchant anything in exchange for the meat?” clarified the stranger.

“Ah, yes. Our dear daughter-in-law is a great needlewoman and is deft with the abrader. We exchange the jewellery and clothes she makes for the meat”.

“Huh”, said the stranger and for the first time an expression seemed to pass through his thus far impassive face.

“What is it? Is the stew not to your liking?” asked Shawnee worriedly. For they had sat down to eat as they were talking, you see.

“Not at all, dear lady,” said he. “I was just thinking it is a strange custom indeed, that to get back your own you have to give something else in return. But, no doubt you have an excellent reason for this custom. I am after all a stranger and not used to your ways and so cannot judge its usefulness.”

At this speech from the stranger, they all looked a bit confused and uncomfortable. At last the son took courage and asked the stranger to explain. The stranger said that since the meat they got from the market was, after all, the meat they had hunted during the summer before, it was by rights their own meat. So it seemed unfair to have to give the merchant something in exchange. The family did not know what to say in response to this so they didn’t say anything at all. Soon the meal was over and Chaukato, as usual, lit his calumet and smoked, while the son started playing a tune in his flageolot. Shawnee sat by the still warm stove and chewed on her tobacco, while the daughter-in-law took up her needlework. The stranger watched each of them follow their routine in turn and refusing the calumet and the tobacco, sat down to hear the son play.

But behind this placid scene, something unusual was happening. Chewing her tobacco, Shawnee was also chewing the cud. “…but the king is a great Shaman. If it was not for him and his prowess we would have all perished in the great drought of 20 years ago. If he says it is right, then it has to be right.”

Puffing on his calumet, Chaukato thought “what a strange man! What was that strange word he used just now? wonder where he comes from. Looks like a Kikapoo but the word didnt sound Alogonquin. But if he doesn’t volunteer the information, how can I ask? Must be a very strange place indeed if the people have such strange thoughts…”

Looking at her needlework, the daughter-in-law thought ” well, this has turned out real nice. I wonder if I should do a turn here? What a pity it is that I have to part with this too like all the beautiful things I make, sigh….”

The tune the son was playing started to alter slightly as he thought,” could it be true what this stranger has said? I did take a lot of trouble hunting that bison last summer. And it was the largest one by far than any the others were able to manage. If I gave the largest meat, shouldn’t I get the largest share for free?”

My Beef with Birbal

According to Tinkle (or Amar Chitra Katha) when emperor Akbar asked his court to tell him what gives mankind the greatest joy, Birbal claimed the ability to answer nature’s call a considerable time after experiencing it, to be mankind’s most “nirvanic” moment. When the veracity of this statement was called into question, Birbal in his inimitable style prevented the Jahanpanah from “going” until he was ready to burst and sure enough Akbar allowed himself to see the point. Although I have frequently experienced the joy Birbal talks of, I must say that it falls way short of nirvana. In order to fully enjoy the …ummm…release, one must prolong the agony for as long as possible. Too much torture, too short a relief. So with all due respect to Birbal, he is full of crap (:D). You want to experience unadulterated joy, with the whole world joining in and have it last for an entire day, then here is what you do. Go live in a city where you don’t see the sun for an entire week, throw in a couple of thunderstorms for good measure and at the end of the week, wipe away all the clouds and turn on the sun at full blast. If the world and you don’t wake up with a song on your lips, a skip in your step and happiness bubbling out of your very being you are dead. So stop reading this and go deal with St. Peter or his other religious equivalent.  I am so full of joy today and so is all the world around me! There is not a cloud on the sky and there are sparkles on the water!

sparkling water

The trees are all a bloom and the birds are chirping joyously

oh happy day! come out and play

The ducks play hide and seek and paddle over to you, inviting you to join them in their water games

Quick! hide before she sees us!

this water is soooo cool

wont you come join us?

Even the babies in their down coats and pudgy arms are raring to go

letsgo, letsgo, letsgooooo

Not just the birds but every shy creature was out basking in the glorious sun

Ahhhhhhh...

*Hush*, I am concentrating

And if none of this convinces you, this “Manetesque” picture ought to

Impressive...geddit?

No? Well then how about this: how many pictures/poems/songs or any other art form is there that waxes eloquent about a glorious day and its joys and how many of these about a satisfying poop?! QED, me thinks.