Tuesday, February 16, 2021

196 Books: Greece

 Something Will Happen, You'll See by Christos Ikonomou


Here we have Greece:



Here we have the synopsis:

Ikonomou's stories convey the plight of those worst affected by the Greek economic crisis--laid-off workers, hungry children. In the urban sprawl between Athens and Piraeus, the narratives roam restlessly through the impoverished working-class quarters located off the tourist routes. Everyone is dreaming of escape: to the mountains, to an island or a palatial estate, into a Hans Christian Andersen story world. What are they fleeing? The old woes--gossip, watchful neighbors, the oppression and indifference of the rich--now made infinitely worse. In Ikonomou's concrete streets, the rain is always looming, the politicians' slogans are ignored, and the police remain a violent, threatening presence offstage. Yet even at the edge of destitution, his men and women act for themselves, trying to preserve what little solidarity remains in a deeply atomized society, and in one way or another finding their own voice. There is faith here, deep faith--though little or none in those who habitually ask for it.


It was obvious this was going to be a bleak read. Sometimes I could only read a little bit in a day because it left me feeling a little hopeless. Since it was more a series of short stories and not an overarching plot, there's not a lot I can describe on the book as a whole. You just see all of these families who are at the end of their ropes, trying to make it with no idea how to. But they keep on. I had a lot of passages that I highlighted in this one, so instead of going over the characters or plot, I'm going to touch on those. 

"things from the past are old wounds and if you scratch them they start bleeding and get infected and stink." This made me think of anxiety. Like how you said or did something stupid 10 years ago and your brain doesn't let you forget it, it just sits there and mocks you. And then all the moments of stupidity or embarrassment (that really don't matter at all) just pile up and make you feel worse. It's like a wound on your mind. 

"That's what real democracy is. When poor people don't wait for the rich to come and save them but take the situation into their own hands. Because that's how the trouble starts: with us thinking that the rich will ever help the poor. It just doesn't happen. We live in two separate worlds." This was pretty powerful. Here in America, this shows a lot in the Republican party. Not only are our social systems designed in a way to keep poor people poor, but so many people are convinced we can't afford better systems or things like universal healthcare, that having those things would encourage people to be lazy, and that bullshit like trickle down economics don't work. Not only are the rich people actively working against the poor people, the rich on top of that are convincing the poor that this is the best situation for them. And, side note: Kindle has a feature that will underline the most highlighted areas of a book. I underlined here what was in the book. But to me the second part was more poignant, and I was really surprised people didn't focus on the whole section. This quote also ties in with that: "In Europe people think being poor is a matter of bad luck. In America poverty is shameful. Can you bear to be poor and have to feel ashamed of it too?" There's an idea here that poor people just aren't working hard enough. I remember having a conversation with my dad years ago, my sister and I were trying to explain all of the circumstances that go into poverty and why it's so hard for people to get out. And he kind of stopped and went, "so what's the solution?" People who think poverty is a choice think there's one solution to it, but in reality the solution is different for each person. 

"Evil's victory is when it starts speaking your language." Again, anxiety, depression, self-deprecation. When those doubts and bad thoughts niggle in and you start believing them. 

"It's true, time is the worst healer. Time hardens people." You always hear "time heals all wounds." But nobody talks about how those wounds can scab over and scar. And when those wounds are emotional, it can harden you.

"Banks don't just take people's homes away. This isn't America." Does this not happen in other places? Are we really the only ones that foreclose? I mean, this country is truly run by corporations so it's plausible, but there has to be some sort of consequence when you don't pay your mortgage. Also...good burn. 

"Tonight I'm strangely agitated and I'm hearing everything not with my ears but with my heart." Maybe this just meant that the character was feeling especially sensitive, but I found it beautiful. 

"She'd always believed that there are two ways for a person to learn about herself and the world: by reading and by traveling." Ok I know I've said it over and over, but reading a book from each country has been such a journey. I'm not only learning about different people and places, but it's changing me and shaping my mind in a way. It's pretty remarkable. 

"Because we're living in the world but not with the world. For centuries now we've stopped living with the world." So I just finished listening to an audiobook called Braiding Sweetgrass (Robin Wall Kimmerer). She's a Botanist by trade but also a Native American. She talks about trying to have a relationship with the earth and nature while also working on the calculated scientific side. It's so remarkably beautiful (also she narrates the audiobook and has such a soothing voice that works perfectly with the content). It's a thinking of really living with the world and sharing the space instead of using everything up. So this quote really hit me. Also I can't recommend Braiding Sweetgrass enough.

"I can't buy back all the years that have passed but I can buy you a piece of tomorrow." This was another one that was so touching. A husband and wife are moving out of the country because their home is being taken by eminent domain. He's talking about buying a boat, something to look forward to. It's so sweet that he's trying to give her this hope that they'll get through it and it will get better. 

"Piece by piece they're taking my world away." This is from the same story as the above quote, and the end of the entire book. What a fucking way to end your book. There's sadness but also resignation in it. She can't stop it. It's a much less dramatic situation, but I felt this way when we were leaving Cleveland. Soldier was transferred and we didn't have a choice. Sell the house, quit my job, leave our new friends, and move to a place we didn't know and didn't want to be. It was very hard on me. I'm still bitter about it. It's debilitating to have huge life changes forced on you. That one sentence really could describe the entire book. 

Well I didn't think I had much to say about this book as a whole, but I changed my mind. These weren't people's actual stories, but they gave a real sense of melancholy and hopelessness from the economic collapse. None of these people could really control their own lives. I wasn't so sure I wanted to read something so disheartening, but I'm glad I did. He's got a way of taking big concepts and putting them into simple sentences, and putting you in the mood of the story.  

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

196 Books: Ghana

 Journey by G.A. Agambila 


We visited Ghana for this book:



And summary:
Journey is an absorbing exploration of reality in contemporary Ghana, juxtaposing tradition and modernity, wise old age and frivolous youth, north and south; male and female. This book and its author will help re-define the national literary landscape as well as re-examine aspects of Ghanaian life easily taken for granted.

So, the summary explains almost nothing about the actual storyline, but something about it caught me. I think there's constantly a struggle between the opposites: older and younger generations, different personalities, men and women. And in this case, that includes the "old ways" and the ways adopted after colonialism, as well as a group of Gods versus the Christian singular God.

The book follows Amoah (I think he's about 16?) as he finishes up secondary (boarding) school, visits home for a short time, and then heads off to the big city to work and save up for university. There's a lot of question of what to do about life, about growing up, about trying to make it and take care of your loved ones. And also a lot of male chauvinism and teenage boys wanting to have sex. That got old pretty quickly, but maybe it's because I've never been a teenage boy. ::shrug::

When Amoah is with his family in the country, who are set in the "old" ways, their conversations consisted of mostly parables. It seemed kind of guarded, which was a bit sad. The speech also switched between "regular" English and Ebonics (not sure if this is the term used throughout the world or just in the US). I had somewhat of a difficult time with the Ebonics; a lot of it I could kind of say out loud and get the meaning, but some just went beyond me. 
One portion I really liked was, "But the past is like a loved one who has died. You can't bring her back to life. You must manage your house now the best way you can."  I've been trying to remind myself lately that replaying things in the past, playing the What If game, and missing parts of your life that are gone is all a waste of time. None of it matters or can be brought back. We have to do the best with what we have now. 

I also really liked the ending. For all the crassness of earlier in the book, he finally gets with a girl at the end, and it's very sweet. The author tells it in words of climbing a mountain, making a journey together. And after a few pretty bad things happen to Amoah, I liked the tenderness of them coming together.