Bike Lanes Are White Lanes

Bike Lanes Are White Lanes: Bicycle Advocacy and Urban Planning by Melody L. Hoffman51xsjhsnvwl-_sx320_bo1204203200_

publication date: 2016
pages: 196
ISBN: 9780803276789

In this book, Hoffman studied what happens when bicycle advocates, and even bicycle riders, don’t examine the racial, political, and historical aspects of any given place, such as a city, a neighborhood, a trail, or a proposed bike lane. In her opinion, bicyclists – especially leaders in the bicycling community – damage historical minorities, cities, and bicycling itself when they take a race-neutral stance or attempt to create events and policies without looking at how those who aren’t upwardly-mobile white people would be affected.

To explore these issues, Hoffman presented three case studies. One looked at a twenty-four-hour bike event in a mixed-race neighborhood in Milwaukee. The second studied the fervor and hostility generated in Portland when a black neighborhood was experiencing gentrification, which was symbolized by the installation of a bike lane on a prominent street. The third and final case study analyzed Minneapolis, which has a recent history of deliberately and explicitly recruiting middle-class white people to the city by creating bike infrastructure.

I loved this book. It converged with so many of my interests: bicycling, urban planning, communities of color, and other things. It also generally dovetailed with my own particular view about how the world is and should be. However, I realize not everyone would love this book as much as I did. Perhaps many of the underlying concepts would be alien to some readers or even disagreeable. Also, some might find discussions of cycling or urban planning boring because those aren’t topics that interest them. With that caveat in place, I have a lot of great things to say about this book and I would recommend it to most anyone because it was a quick and informative read.

Hoffman presented an interesting question at the beginning of Bike Lanes: what could possibly be wrong with an educated white person riding a bicycle in the city? I thought she did a great job of showing that there isn’t necessarily anything inherently wrong with being an urban white cyclist, but instead showed that being an urban white cyclist isn’t representative of many people’s experiences on a bicycle. For example, data in one city showed that 4 out of 5 tickets given to people on bicycles were given to black people. This discussion set up the rest of the book by showing the inaccuracy of bicycling as a “race-neutral” form of transportation.

Although most of the book was easy to read and enlightening, sometimes the concepts presented were confusing. For example, I still don’t understand what this sentence meant:

[N]eighborhood [is] “The place where one manifests a social ‘commitment’ . . . the domain in which the space-time relationship is most favorable for a dweller who moves from place to place on foot, starting from his or her home . . . .”

I struggled with what rating to give this book because I enjoyed it so much but I could see others not liking it. However, if you ever do come across it, I highly recommend you pick it up.

4/6: worth reading

other reviews:

CBS Minnesota
Amazon
Green Room

OUTsider

OUTsider by Ruth Marimo41mh4gjqj7l-_sx321_bo1204203200_

publication date: 2014
pages: 248
ISBN: 978-0-9895868-0-1

This book had two things going for it: a heartfelt and genuine tone and a thought-provoking account of a person not often represented in the media.

OUTsider was the autobiography of Ruth Marimo, a gay, undocumented immigrant activist originally born in Zimbabwe. The book detailed her struggles of being an orphan in Zimbabwe, the confusing events that led to her living in America at nineteen without a status, her abusive marriage, and her self-discovery as a lesbian and an activist.

Marimo was very open about much of her life, including her struggles with her sexuality, her noxious relationship, and her status as an undocumented immigrant. That sincerity and candor was often effective, as in this passage from shortly after Marimo arrived in the States:

At first, I was very alarmed and upset that I had come to this country so ill prepared. I had not been treated well, and I had to work real hard for everything I had.
I was nineteen.
I was a kid.
For the past year, I had fended for myself so far away from home and from any assistance. Now, with my predicament, I simply had to do whatever I could to survive. I shopped for all my clothes at the Goodwill . . . .

The ardent nature of the writing and the important subject matter, especially surviving a physically abusive relationship, was enough to recommend the book. However, the book had some problems.

The writing was self-indulgent, like a journal or diary, as though Marimo was using the writing process to work through her own problems. Obviously, there is nothing wrong with using writing as a tool, but then don’t sell the book to others as something that would interest them.

Also, the writing could be very disorienting. Parts were contradictory, from the smallest lines to entire passages. As just one small example, early in the book, Marimo said she was “really in love” with a young woman named Belinda when she was around 16. Then, only nine sentences later, she said she fell in love with a young man named Masimba at 17, and this “was the first time I was truly in love with someone.” Entire sections contained these kinds of contradictions, which made the book confusing to read and lessened its effectiveness.

Additionally, Marimo did not have a coherent thesis beyond just the importance of her story and stories like hers. That was enough of a thesis for me, but the book seemingly strove for a more actionable thesis, and failed.

The book was a quick read and contained many illuminating passages about Marimo’s life and experience.

4/6: worth reading

Other reviews:

goodreads
Amazon

Iron Cast

Iron Cast by Destiny Soria9781419721922

publication date: 2016
pages: 376
ISBN: 9781419721922

This YA book reminded me of 2007’s book The City of Bones, the first of the Mortal Instruments series. They were both set in an urban world cloaked by a veil of mystical characters and phenomena. The main characters in both lived in a secret, separate haven built specifically for them. The plots involved enemies who were closing in and there were always hints of distrust, even betrayal. Further, both authors focused on quotations, poems, and music as part of the dialogue and as important plot points.

Although Iron Cast, which was set in pre-Prohibition Boston, might have been an heir to The City of Bones, there were some things it improved on – and others it wasn’t as successful with. I enjoyed the two main characters from Iron Cast, Ada and Corinne, very much. Ada was a second generation Swahili-Portuguese immigrant and Corinne was the sequestered daughter from a wealthy family. What brought them together was not their personalities or their backgrounds but that they both suffered from a mysterious affliction known as “hemopathy,” which gave them the ability to manipulate the minds of others using words or music, and an aversion to iron. Ada and Corinne were compelling, intricate characters that presented a wonderful example of female friendship. The best writing centered on Ada or Corinne. For example, here was a small bit from Corinne’s inner monologue:

She had spent her whole life trying to always be the cleverest person in the room, and it was just now occurring to her how boundless her own stupidity was.

The plot of the book was interesting enough. Ada and Corinne lived in the Cast Iron, an iron-free hemopath sanctuary run by Johnny Dervish. To pay Johnny back for giving them shelter, the girls ran cons and illegally entertained non-hemopath’s at Johnny’s club. The book focused on the girls’ schemes, as their iron-free world was threatened by those on the outside. Although the larger plot was fine, individual plot points were very contrived and unconvincing. I won’t be specific because I don’t want to give anything away, but several turns within the plot seemed designed merely to get Corinne and Ada to some predestined outcome.

Additionally, a large focus of the book was on words and music but those sections were often dull and tedious. Many passages quoted poetry or other lyrics but they held no passion or fire. After a while, I just skipped over them.

However, the book did contain some good writing. The description of the hellish Haversham Asylum was especially effective:

They went through a doorway at the end of a long corridor that opened into a large, low-ceilinged room. The sharp smell of disinfectant assaulted [Corinne’s] nostrils. This room was brighter than the corridors, with bright medical lamps that glared off the white tile and stainless steel surfaces. The brilliance temporarily blinded Corinne, and they were several steps into the room before she recovered. Once she did, the only thing she could really see was the man a few feet away from her. His face was so skeletal that for a split second she thought he was dead – but no, his gray smock moved barely with the slow rise and fall of his chest.

A lot of the book was just okay. But, Iron Cast created an intriguing world with two engrossing main characters that were worth the read. Ada, especially, as a person of color in early 1900s Boston, was especially captivating.

4/6: worth reading

other reviews:

Olivia’s Catastrophe blog
School Library Journal
Heart Full of Books

The Book of Speculation

The Book of Speculation by Erika Swyler9781250055637

publication date: 2015
pages: 339
ISBN: 978-1-250-05480-7

The Book of Speculation alternated between two linked story lines. The first, set in modern day, told the story of Simon Watson, a down-on-his-luck research librarian. Simon was desperately trying to hold on to the coastal house his family grew up in. With a diminishing career, a suicidal mother, a negligent father, and a roving sister who visited only once every few years, Simon felt the house was the only earthly thing he had to cling to. That changed when he was mysteriously sent an old ledger manuscript that contained his grandmother’s name and described an even older circus troupe, and when his sister arrived home, taking a break from her own life as a traveling circus performer.

The circus ledger detailed the second story line, set in the 1780s, about a traveling group of circus performers. That story focused on Amos, a mute man who became apprenticed to a fortune-teller and dreamed of finding and keeping love. One day, love fell into his lap in the form of Evangeline, a young woman with a gift for the water who was marketed by the circus as a mermaid.

The Book of Speculation was saturated with themes and motifs. There was water, of course, and drowning. Tarot cards and symbols. There were also themes of home, obsession, family, and the past as shackles. There were no subtle metaphors in Speculation: for example, Simon’s house, a relic of his failed family, literally hurt his leg and hampered his ability to walk away when one of the floorboards broke and swallowed him whole.

All these various plots, and themes, and characters, and fantastical elements – mermaids, circuses, tarot cards – fell flat for me. I didn’t care too much about Simon, which meant I didn’t care too much about the people in his constant dramas. Also, so many things seemed just a little bit off. I kept asking myself, “Does that make sense?” “Would someone do that?” “Do they really use lathes to angle doors?” (As far as I could tell – no.) For example, here was a passage from Simon’s narrative that rang false:

Alice cracks the door. Swollen eyes, a red nose, face bruised from crying.

Frank [had already] told her everything. I’m sorry and wish we’d never come. The worst is she’s a pretty crier and learning that is awful.

Learning she was a pretty crier was really the worst part about that situation? It wasn’t what Alice was crying about or what Frank told her or why you’d confront a grieving woman in the first place? It was that her face still looked pretty with tears on it?

Although the plots and characters often fizzled, Swyler imbued the book with vivid and effective imagery. As an example of writing that left an indelible image in my mind, here was a passage of Simon reading to his newly-returned sister, Enola:

[The story] is from the Bolokhovskis. She wants me to read Eglė. I do. Slowly, the way Mom used to, unraveling the story of the farmer’s daughter who would become Queen of the Serpents, and her children who were turned into trembling trees. All folktales have a price. Enola listens silently, pressing her forehead to my shoulder, letting me remember her.

The book was a steady read, so if any of the themes above intrigue you, you might want to pick this book up. However, I don’t have anything particular to recommend about it, either.

3/6: more good that bad

other reviews:

Bits & Books
npr
The Book Reporter

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J.K Rowling, John Tiffany & Jack Thorne9781338099133

publication date: 2016
pages: 308
ISBN: 978-1-338-09913-3

I’m sure this review was too late for most of you readers. Either you were planning on reading this new play and you’ve done so, or you had no interest in reading it and my review would not sway you. Just for fun, though, and because I love Harry Potter, I’m putting this review out there.

This book – it’s actually a script – returned to the story of hero wizard Harry Potter nineteen years after the seventh book ended. Harry was now a father to three young children who were experiencing their own adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Cursed Child focused on Harry’s middle son, Albus, as he encountered his own brand of troubles at Hogwarts. The book included much about Harry. However, there was definitely an emphasis on the next generation.

Obviously, this little play was surrounded by anticipation. Harry Potter was one of the most cherished and endlessly examined book series of all time. As I was reading, I tried to keep my expectations in check because it would be impossible for something to live up to the original series. However, I thought this book was a lot of fun.

I liked the plot: it had a low point and an emotional climax and there was a twist that took me by surprise. I also liked the characters, both old and new. There was continuity with the characters I was familiar with from the original book series. This scene was a great example, where the main characters were unexpectedly gathering in Professor McGonagall’s office:

PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Right. Very sensible. I expect . . . there will be quite a few [volunteers].
RON bursts in. Covered in soot. Wearing a gravy-stained dinner napkin.
RON: Have I missed anything – I couldn’t work out which Floo to travel to. Ended up in the kitchen somehow. (HERMIONE glares as he pulls the napkin off himself.) What?
Suddenly there is another rumble in the chimney and DRACO comes down hard, surrounded by cascading soot and dust.
Everyone looks at him, surprised. He stands and brushes the soot off himself.
DRACO: Sorry about your floor, Minerva.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: I dare say it’s my fault for owning a chimney.
HARRY: Quite a surprise to see you, Draco. I thought you didn’t believe in my dreams.
DRACO: I don’t, but I do trust your luck. Harry Potter is always where the action is at. And I need my son back with me and safe.
GINNY: Then let’s get to the Forbidden Forest and find them both.

That was simply classic Harry Potter. McGonagall’s dry chiding. Ron constantly doing slightly the wrong thing. Draco being the only polite one. A Weasley sounding a call to action.

I liked the new characters, as well – especially Albus Potter’s best friend Scorpius. He was a sensitive, intelligent kid with a great sense of humor. Here was some fun dialogue between Scorpius and Albus, on top of the Hogwarts Express:

SCORPIUS: Okay, now we’re on the roof of a train, it’s fast, it’s scary, this has been great, I feel like I’ve learnt a lot about me, something about you, but –
ALBUS: As I calculate it we should be approaching the viaduct soon and then it’ll be a short hike to St. Oswald’s Home for Old Witches and Wizards . . .
SCORPIUS: The what? The where? Look, I am as excited as you are to be a rebel for the first time in my life – yay – train roof – fun – but now – oh.

Although I liked a lot about Cursed Child, the writing was not as captivating as the book series. I think most of that was because this was a play and not a book. Because this was a play, I couldn’t read about the rich inner lives and monologues of any of the characters. As a play, this story would be more visually compelling than a book, but it does not create the same immediate and long-lasting connections with the characters.

Also, Cursed Child had some of the same flaws as the original series. People were always getting outraged for seemingly no good reason. And these people weren’t kids anymore; now they were adults! There were little riddles and adventures that didn’t actually make a lot of sense but did provide good fun. And many of the small plot points were just a little too convenient.

My mind cannot fathom separating this book from the original series, so, if you have never experienced the Harry Potter series, I have no idea whether you would like this book or if it would even be understandable. However, if you were a fan of the original series, I thought this play was a likable continuation, as long as the constraints of a play are kept in mind.

4/6: worth reading

other reviews:

New York Times
The Independent (this review quotes a 10-year-old kid’s review)
Read at Midnight

Butterfly Winter

Hi all! I’m sorry for my extended break. I was busy with the holidays and then, this January, I’ve been doing the final edits for my friend Beaufield Berry’s first book: Childhood Friends. But all should be back on track now. Thank you for reading!

Butterfly Winter by W.P. Kinsella9781586422059

publication date: 2011
pages: 300
ISBN: 978-1-58642-205-9

W.P. Kinsella, probably most famous for writing Shoeless Joe – the inspiration for the movie Field of Dreams, wrote several books and stories that centered around baseball and magical realism. Butterfly Winter was just such a book, and was the last book he ever published.

The book introduced Julio and Esteban Pimental: twin brothers born in the fictional Latin American country of Courteguay. The boys were born playing baseball and quickly ascended the ranks and began playing professional ball in America at the age of ten. They went on to play for several successful years as their home country of Courteguay was consumed by human rights abuses that were put into place by a string of homegrown dictators.

Butterfly Winter exhibited a lot of what might be called “magical realism,” but was what I would call nonsense. Here’s an example of a story told about a baseball pitcher who carried around the arm of another pitcher, who had recently died:

What happened next, and this is a secret between us, resulted in Milan Garza’s finest year in the Major Leagues, the year he won thirty-five games.
“Milan Garza used to carry the arm in a tuba case. . . . Milan Garza told the Old Dictator that he pitched until he got tired, or was being hit too hard, then he let Barojas Garcia pitch for a while.”
“A portable relief pitcher?” asked Julio. . . . “Is that how it happened?” Julio asked.
“If it isn’t, it’s the way it should have happened,” said the Wizard.

Because the plot was so “magical,” nothing made sense. Magic and possibility were used to explain everything. For me, this meant the plot had no meaning, and I was rarely interested in the story or the characters. Here’s an example of the exaggerated characters:

Julio was walking by seven months, however Esteban remained stable in the catcher’s crouch until he was nearly three. . . . The women immediately fell in love with [Julio]. He would stare arrogantly at the prettiest female in the audience, tug suggestively at his diaper, then unleash a wild pitch into the crowd, aimed, usually with great accuracy, at the stuffiest looking male present.

This kind of writing style, while boring to me, might be interesting and fun to someone else. However, the biggest problem I had with the book was its treatment of dark-skinned people and Latin American history and government. Most of the characters were explicitly light-skinned, and here were the descriptions of the two most prominent dark-skinned characters in the book:

[Julio] picked a woman who, while not unattractive, was of a type not desirable to him. She was a black girl with a wild tumbleweed of hair. She wore a read skirt slit to the waist, and a turquoise blouse that showed off her sloping breasts. She was brazen, not very intelligent, and almost impossible to understand when she spoke.

I thought that was pretty bad but then there was this description of another character:

Dr. Noir wore a smart vizored military hat with gold braid and epaulets on his shoulders the size of giant hairbrushes. His cheeks were like black, pockmarked grapefruit halves, so black they might have been polished. A round surgical mask, white as an angel, covered his nose, hiding the huge, slug-like lips Quita knew well from photographs.

As I am quoting this passage I honestly cannot believe someone had the temerity to put those words to page. I was going to include another passage that denigrated Haiti, but I don’t want to read any more of this stuff.

So with that said:

2/6: many problems

other reviews:

The Globe and Mail
Magic Realism Blog
Quill & Quire

Drag Teen

Drag Teen by Jeffery Self9780545829939

publication date: 2016
pages: 261
ISBN: 978-0-545-82993-9

This YA book followed JT and his friends Heather and Seth from Florida to New York as they entered JT in a drag queen competition to boost his confidence and win a college scholarship. I’m glad this book exists, because there should be books about people pursuing drag for fun and for life. However, this particular book was not great.

The writing was very uneven. The narrator skipped from one topic to the next and any emotional changes were generally jarring and confusing. Also, the author assumed that just because he described something in a certain way, then that thing made sense. Here’s an example, when JT’s best friend was introduced:

Heather was just as much of a mess as me. Which is why our friendship worked so well. We were the kind of outcasts they don’t make teen movies about. Heather was funny, biting, sarcastic, and had a variety of beautiful features, but none of them really went together, and her weight problems were even worse than mine, which meant she turned to her big personality to distract the judgmental eyes of our peers.

That paragraph was all over the place. And, those two sound like exactly the folks people would make teen movies about. A gay teen and his funny, overweight best friend? I think 60% of teen movies post-She’s All That have that combo in there.

Generally, the humor did not work. However, there were a few parts that I thought were funny. This line was one of my favorites:

We all awkwardly chuckled along with her, the way people do in action movies when the bad guy makes a lame joke and laughs at it while holding a weapon.

I also liked how buoyant and passionate the writing was. The author really loved his topic and his characters. Although a lot of the characters in the book were just props for JT or plot pieces, JT’s boyfriend and best friend, Seth and Heather, were well-developed characters with their own interesting back stories and lives.

This book had a lot going for it, including good main characters and convincing settings and motivations, but unfortunately the plot and writing were flawed.

3/6: more good than bad

other reviews:

Twirling Book Princess
Portland Book Review
Edge Media Network