Friday, November 23, 2018

Capturing Appalachia


Let me start with this: I just reread Hillbilly Elegy by J. D. Vance and I get it.

Is it universally true? No. Are his sociological musings shaky? Absolutely. But his memoir of his family and himself, which is about 99% of the book, reads absolutely spot on. So if you are hoping for a slashing attack on that book, this is not it. [Note: I am not commenting on Vance becoming the "face" or "voice" of Appalachia in the conservative world, and do not endorse what little I had seen of his political and sociological pronouncements.]

I have theories about what he writes and about Appalachian, not because I have driven through it on occasion or read editorial commentary on it by writers flying in and out, but because that's my dad's family down there. I grew up with strong Appalachian roots. I still have ties to that place and culture—well, the culture of white Scots-Irish Appalachia, that is—because there is an African-American Appalachia, a non Scots-Irish white Appalachia, and increasingly as one author (who I will discuss shortly) pointed out, a Latinx Appalachia.


Barbara Kingsolver, with strong Appalachian ties both past and present, recently said in an interview with The New York Times that she could not get through Hillbilly Elegy. She pointed readers instead to Ronald Eller and Elizabeth Catte. Intrigued, I read both of them, then reread Hillbilly Elegy.

Ronald Eller was the longtime director of the Appalachian Center in Lexington and a retired professor of history at the University of Kentucky. His book, Uneven Ground: Appalachia Since 1945, is a well-written history of the region, He focuses on economics and politics: the exploitation of Appalachia through extractive economic policy, the deep-seated political graft, granting of favors, and worse in both parties. 

Uneven Ground is a solid work. But his best sentence—the one that rings truest for me—happened right out of the gate:"We know Appalachia exists because because we need it to exist in order to define what we are not. It is the "other America" because the very idea of Appalachia convinces us of the righteousness of our own lives." 


I started out of my seat when I read that line, immediately putting it into my current notebook of quotes. "[T]he very idea of Appalachia convinces us of the righteousness of our own lives." Thank you, Ronald Eller.


Catte wrote a slim work, What You Don't Know About Appalachia, in direct response to J. D. Vance, whom she would gladly dropkick without any further provocation. Much of her vitriol towards Vance is directed towards his post-Hillbilly Elegy talks and articles, all decidedly conservative, and about his plying his "poor white trash" persona enlightening the rest of us in the media, particularly talk radio. She particularly derides him for posing as and being appointed as an authority on "why Appalachia voted for Trump," which she thoroughly dissects by color, percentage of voters, and by comparing the 2016 primary results with the 2016 election results. She tells the reader up front that she is well-educated, liberal, and chose to move back to Appalachia (Tennessee) rather than live in Texas, which she accurately described as taking industrial pollution and exposure to toxins to a whole new level. She also deftly and convincingly gives a picture of Appalachia that is more, both historically and presently, than just a Scots-Irish enclave with quaint talk and customs,  despite the mainstream dominant culture continuing to portray it that way. (We indeed need that portrayal of Appalachia to convince us of the righteousness of our "superior" way of life.)


What I most appreciated about Catte is that, along with flaying Vance, she tore into both the far conservative right commentators and what she would characterize as the liberal elitist commentators. (It is the word "elitist" that is most important in that phrase, incidentally.) Thank you, Ms. Catte. Thank you for pointing out the massive tone-deaf Hillary Clinton stumble in the West Virginia primary (long before her "deplorables" comment): "I don't want to move away from the people who did the best they could to produce the energy that we relied on." Who did the best they could? As Catte correctly points out: how absolutely condescending and out of touch. No wonder Sanders buried Clinton in the primary. Nor does she spare Trump and his downright stupid comments and lack of policy about the coal industry. She would gladly dropkick him too. 


Catte was a refreshing read.  


And then I reread Hillbilly Elegy, keeping in mind what Catte pointed out about Vance. I don't agree with his prologue, when he does paint with a broad brush a picture of Appalachia that is all white, all Scots-Irish, all stereotyped. But his actual memoir? As I already said: spot on. I handed my copy to my brother Mark after Thanksgiving dinner and said, "Read this. I see our family all through this book." I'll be interested to hear his reaction. 


So what about Appalachia? Back in 1975-1976, I applied for and was granted admission as a transfer student to Berea College, a no-tuition college in Kentucky with a primary service region of southern Appalachia. For several reasons, all of which seemed critical at the time, I did not attend. Even this many decades later, I wonder what my life trajectory would have been had I gone there. And I have written before about the strong ties I feel to my dad's side of the family. Dad and I still haven't made it down to Kentucky to revisit family sites, but with mom not at home anymore, that may be a real possibility. 


I'm glad I read Catte and Eller. I'm glad I reread Vance and I still recommend it for the personal memoir.


Eller summed Appalachia up bluntly: "Moving to a culture of mutual responsibility will help us open up our civic processes to expand diversity, transparency, and participation. Only then can we confront the complex structural challenges of an extractive economy that has drained the region of its physical and human wealth and of an extractive political system that has benefited few at the expense of many." 


Indeed.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

More Books Before I Hit The Road

We are off to Mayo tomorrow and I will be traveling with books, of course. OF COURSE! All the same, I wanted to post the most recent reads so my list is up to date.

The latest entries to "Books Read By April This Year" are:
181. All Over But The Shoutin' by Rick Braggs (Braggs came out of deep, deep generational poverty and ended up as a Pulitzer winning reporter for The New York Times; this is his memoir of his family and their—and his—trajectory over a half decade)
182. The Nakano Thrift Shop by Hiromi Kawakami (I wrote briefly about this book here; this is an engaging, quirky, and thoroughly modern Japanese look at love and life)
183. The Sun Is Also A Star by Nicola Yoon (a YA novel about love and fate; the expected resolution in the current story did not happen, but the ending, set a decade later,  brought tears to my eyes)
184. The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts by Maxine Hong Kingston (I have read some of Kingston's fiction before; this is her early (1976) and evocative memoir about the strong women of her family and her Chinese heritage)
185. What We Owe by Golnaz Hashemzadeh Bonde (love, death, revolution, exile, cancer; Bonde, an Iranian whose family fled to Sweden when she was a child, sets this gut-wrenching novel in Iran at the time of the Revolution and in current Sweden)
186. Almost Everything: Notes on Hope by Anne Lamott (Lamott's latest work on, no surprise, holding hope close in these deeply troubled times; it is not her strongest writing, but it is solid)
187. Theodore Roosevelt: A Literary Life by Thomas Bailey & Katherine Joslin (I ran across this title when exploring the Vancouver (WA) library and took a photo to remember it; it is a flowing, fascinating celebration of Roosevelt as a man of letters, as a serious writer, as a journalist—oh yeah, he was President too but this biography places him in office in one (!) sentence and takes him out almost as fast)
188.The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas (this YA novel about race, violence, prejudice, "passing" is a strong companion book to read alongside all american boys (#180) and Piecing Me Together (#153))
189. We Fed An Island: The True Story Of Rebuilding Puerto Rico, One Meal At A Time by José Andrés with Richard Wolffe (Andrés is a renown chef who went to Puerto Rico following Hurricane Maria and stayed for four months, working with others to feed the people there after the devastation of Hurricane Maria; this is about abandoned Americans (you do know Puerto Ricans are Americans, right?) and is a searing indictment of FEMA and President Trump's disregard for our citizens)

I am taking with me to Mayo three books on Appalachia, one of which I am almost done with but will not finish tonight. Stay tuned.

Saturday, November 3, 2018

October Finances


October is over and with that we are staring hard and fast at the end of 2018. Where did it go?

Well, I know where our grocery dollars went this past month! We spent $141.42 on groceries, and another $5.84 on household items (aluminum foil and plastic wrap, primarily). That comes out to a whopping $147.26 for the month. When I plug that figure into the year's running total, our monthly average is now at $176.99.

There was a large expenditure in October that I did not count into the overall food costs. We hosted a reception for opening the 40th Symphony season and those costs—food, ice, related items—came to $107.63. At least $35.00 of that, three bottle of prosecco that did not get opened, will carry forward to the end of season reception we are already planning.

Our eating out this month was heavily influenced by rehearsal and concert schedules. Warren was either on the road or held up at the auditorium for several meals. There were also some "let's just get something" meals as we navigated hospital time with mom and dad. As a result, we spent $52.84 this month eating out.

I look at November and think this will be a month of more eating out due to my quarterly trip to Mayo Clinic next week and the annual Percussive Arts Society International Conference in Indianapolis the following week. Oh, we will pack a lunch and take some snacks, but the reality of the road trips is more eating out. On our list for Indianapolis is Shapiro's Delicatessen, a Jewish deli there since 1905.

An aside: How did I not know about Shapiro's until this year, when I read Buttermilk Graffiti by Edward Lee (#135)? In looking back at my September finances post, I see I raised the same question there. Clearly this has been weighing on me! I am incredulous because except for one year in San Antonio, PASIC is always in Indianapolis. Again, how did I not know?

On to November. We'll see what it holds.