The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

She was a mother of five, a terrific cook, loved to go out dancing with her cousin, and never went out without making sure her red toenails were painted to perfection. Although she was a poor tobacco farmer, she lived life to the fullest. Except to her family and small community, this woman was unknown to the world. But then cervical cancer changed the course of her history, her children's history, and that of the world of science forever.

Her name was Henrietta Lacks. She was admitted to Johns Hopkins Hospital in 1951 for treatment of an agressive strain of cervical cancer. Cells from her tumor were taken without her knowledge or consent. Those cells have launched a scientific revolution, responsible for discoveries including the polio vaccine, chemotherapy treatments, and invitro-fertilization procedures. She died nearly 60 years ago, yet her cells continue to thrive and continue to be used for scientific and medical research. But while her cells have been mulitiplying and while researchers and doctors have cashed in on discoveries related to her cells and while the public benefits from vaccines and treatments that her cells have helped discover, Henrietta Lacks's children have not faired as well.

As I am not the scientific type, I went into this read with a little trepidation. But I am so glad I went for it. This novel brings to life the fact that behind all medical research, there is indeed a human connection involved. Because we are so wrapped up in finding cures and breakthroughs, we lose focus of that emotional factor. This book reminds us that behind that cancerous tumor, behind those cancerous cells, there once lived a human with a life and a family, someone who was loved and someone who had loved back. And that person deserves a name, and her history deserves to be preserved, and her family deserves to be dignified. Henrietta Lacks will now truly be immortal thanks to Rebecca Skloot.

To Kill a Mockingbird

It's a funny thing when you go back and re-read a book. Sometimes you remember it word for word as it's unfolding; sometimes you pick up interesting little bits and pieces that you never caught before; and sometimes it's a whole new story as if you've never read it in the first place. For some crazy reason, when I started reading this one again, it was like I had never read it before. I can only think of two possible explanations why I don't remember To Kill a Mockingbird.

First of all, I know this was assigned reading in high school, which might explain why I didn't remember a whole lot of it. I usually don't like to be "told" what I "have" to read. I like to make choices for myself. So there is some possibility that the inner rebel in me had come out (as it did when I had to read Moby Dick) and made the choice not to read it with the hope of being able to fly by the seat of my pants on just the class discussions themselves.

Secondly, I do remember watching the movie in class after we discussed and finished the book. I remember Boo Radley, Scout, and her brother Jem; and most of all I remember the court trial. So perhaps I'm just remembering the movie and not the book. . . or confusing the movie with the book. . . or maybe I just truly don't remember anything about it at all.

Oh, well. Whatever the reason may be, I discovered new information in this story that I had somehow escaped my teen years. It took me a long time to read this one, but it was worth the re-introduction.

Mudbound by Hillary Jordan

It feels good to be back into the reading scene again! My normal routine of sitting in a cozy spot with a hot beverage and a good book had been taken over by nights of reading professional books, grading assessments, organizing a classroom and curriculum binders, and settling into the routines of the first weeks of school. It's been crazy! Oh, how I miss my books and having that free time to myself. But I love my job and wouldn't change it for the world. My students are wonderful! I just love them and know that it's going to be a great year for all of us! And now that we have all hit the ground running at a steady pace, I can get back into a normal routine for myself at home ~ mainly my passion for reading!

I picked up Hillary Jordan's Mudbound a while ago at Borders when they were having their going-out-of-business sales. My friend Pam had recommended it to me. Pam is awesome! She reads everything and always fills me in on the best books, and this was no exception. Mudbound is a fabulous, intense, emotional read. Only a few other books have ever brought me to tears, and this is now one of them.

Set in rural Mississippi during World War II, Mudbound is a shocking and honest look into the world of hate and racial discrimination. Told from the perspective of several narrators, both black and white, Jordan allows her readers to develop deep, personal, sympathetic connections with her some of her characters and a deep, emotional disgust for others. It's a tale of two families and how their lives have been torn apart from the same tragedy and their own unique way of dealing with the tragedy. What a great novel to get me back into routine! It just enveloped me and evoked so many emotions and is a true example of why I love literature.

13 Rue Therese by Elena Mauli Shapiro

I fell in love with this book before I even read the first word.  The black and white photograph on the front cover sparks an instant sense of mystery. There is something about her shabby, unkempt hair that makes me wonder ~ Who is this woman? and Why is her appearance shaggy and unkempt, or is this just the style of the time?

Colored photographs of artifacts, again, items telling of the time and history of the world, greet the reader every few pages and was the second thing about his novel that caught my eye.  These items are the personal affects of a woman named Louise Brunet, and they open the reader to a world of mystery and wonder about their initial owner.  Letters, postcards, photographs, gloves, pen holders made from German bullets are a few of the artificats whose own stories are pieced together revealing the life behind the mysterious woman on the front cover, Louise Brunet.

The Black Rose by Tananarive Due

"Which has made your life more difficult, Madam Walker?  Being Negro, or being a woman?"

"In my shoes, Mrs. Trask, it seems like only a white woman would even ask that question."

Sharp-tongued, witty characters always grab my attention, and I just loved this question and response from The Black Rose.  Madam C.J. Walker spent years learning how to speak eloquently and eventually built her confidence to stand up to people who felt entitled to kick her down.  And when she stands up for herself in the book, you can't help but jump out of your seat and cheer for her.

The Black Rose is the story of Sarah Breedlove's rise from poverty to wealth as Madam C.J. Walker, the first black, female millionaire. Although the novel is a work of fiction, it is infused with historical facts and the research of Alex Haley (author of Roots).  With little education but with a strong work ethic, Madam C.J. Walker became a business savvy entrepreneur who formulated and sold her own line of beauty products to which her sales allowed her to build her own factory and empire from the ground up.

Whether you are black, white, purple, green, female, or male, this novel is an affirmation of how far hard work, dedication, and the desire to succeed will take you in pursuing your own dreams. 

The Memory Palace by Mira Bartok

Opening the pages of an author's memoir depicting a tumultuous life with a mother with schizophrenia should be like opening Pandora's Box.  The craziness and disfunction should come flying off the pages out of control.  And with all of that craziness and disfunction, elements of shock, disgust, horror, and revelation should be the expected, clear consequences for both the author and the reader.  Saddly, the only consequence that struck me was shock.  My shock was not in response to the author's experiences with schizophrenia, rather, it was shock resulting from the author's choice in telling her story in a mellow, low-key tone.

Dad moves out and leaves the family.  Grandpa mentally, verbally, and physically abuses his wife, daughter, and grandchildren.  Grandma quietly lives in her bubble trying to keep the peace.  And Mira and her sister Rachel just try to make it from one day to the next.  As the sisters enter college, they change their names to avoid unwelcome housecalls from their mother, who conjures delusions of people trying to hurt her and her children because she suffers from paranoid schizophrenia.  It's seemingly the perfect recipe for the next great American novel ~ families overcoming unfortunate circumstances and tragedy.  The recipe contains the major characters and their roles, but it's missing a key ingredient ~ suspense leading to that climatic moment in a tragic tale that makes readers say to themselves, "How the hell did anyone ever survive this?"  I so wanted that moment in this memoir.  I wanted to gasp in horror. But the novel never afforded me that opportunity.  The facts and circumstances of the author's story are told in a matter-of-fact, clinical manner, which made it difficult to sympathize with the broken pieces of her life.  Unfortunately, The Memory Palace did not hold a majestic place in my own memory.

Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok

Apparently, I am on an Asian cultural kick with the books I've been reading lately ~ Peony in Love, Please Look After Mom, and now Girl in Translation.  That seems to happen to me sometimes.  I'll be perusing the shelves in the library and start pulling books with the same theme or premise without even realizing what I've done.  It's usually unintentional.  So I'm not always quite sure how this happens.  Whether its instinct, intuition, or not-so-random mindlessness that has been guiding my book choices, it's been working out for me lately.

Girl in Translation is a work of fiction that reads like a seamless memoir because it allows readers to feel deeply compassionate for the narrator, Kimberly Chang.  Every event, circumstance, and emotion bears a validity that is easily recognized in those every-day people to whom we may not always be able to give a second glance but whose presence overwhelms our sympathies.

Kimberly has high hopes for success and liberty as she and her mother move from Hong Kong to Brooklyn, NY when she is only 11 years old.  Unaccustomed to the language and culture, Kimberly and her mother rely upon the "kindness" and "charity" of Aunt Paula.  Aunt Paula "generously" supplies her younger sister and niece with a rat and roach infested apartment in a condemned building and jobs in her clothing sweatshop earning 1 1/2 cents per skirt.  While Kimberly attends public school, she begins to realize just how dire her and her mother's situation truly is and vows to create a better life for the two of them.

Girl in Translation is a wonderful reminder to its readers that dreams can only be realized if you work hard enough for them.  It also reminds us that we all have the ability to make choices for ourselves, but it's those choices that have been made for us that are sometimes the hardest ones to overcome.