The Cookbook Collector

The Cookbook Collector by Allegra Goodman is not at all about what the title might suggest. It is not about cooking; it is about studying cooking by reading instead of actually cooking. But it's not really about that either - it's about yearning for meaning in life, for something tangible, but finding oneself unable to get up and do anything about it. It's about getting stuck in our own inner mayhems, unable to act, to break free, to move forward. It's about being on the outside, looking in.

Longings - of love, of wealth, of answers, of meaning - plague the characters in the book, only most of the time they don't even realize that's the case. It is the tale of two sisters completely different in temperament and aspiration, five years apart in age but eons apart in personality, during the rise and fall of the early dotcoms pre- and post- 9/11. Only, we merge in and out of peripheral characters lives and viewpoints, to the point that the picture we have of the sisters, Jessamine and Emily, is mostly that of the men that love them, and so we are also left feeling we are on the outside, looking in, only seeing the surface of people and situations.

Goodman's language is liltingly poignant, insightful and highly quotable, with sentences like

How sad, he thought, that desire found new objects but did not abate, that when it came to longing there was no end. 

He could read her face, even as she became a stranger to him.

The book also openly discusses wealth, young wealth, and monetary, financial motivations pitted against spiritual, socially progressive motivations. However, it only discusses wealth from the point of view of the very privileged and very wealthy. The closest we get to financial problems is at the beginning of the novel, when Jess, a grad student of philosophy, doesn't happen to have $1800 lying around to buy her sister's stock. This is seen by her older, incredibly intelligent, highly successful and fantastically fortunate older sister as a failing on her part to grow up. Either my experience is drastically different from everyone else's, or it's a pretty normal thing for a 23-year-old graduate student to not have a substantial cash reserve in the bank. It's also pretty normal to have not 'grown up' by age 23. And so, while the actual acknowledgment of money as existing was nice, it also managed to fall flat.

Emily's naivete, at age 30 by the end of the novel, proved somewhat unbelievable, especially given that she is the CEO of her own company, graduated MIT, and is a multi-millionaire:

[S]he imagined that people were rational and courteous, as she was, and when they proved otherwise, she assumed that she could influence them to become that way. Dangerous thinking. When she was truthful, she expected to hear the truth. Reasonable, she expected reasonable behavior in return. She was young, inventive, fantastically successful. She trusted in the world, believed in poetic justice--that good ideas blossomed and bore fruit, while dangerous schemes were meant to wither on the vine.

Don't get me wrong - it's not as if I can't relate to having had this endearing point of view. I did... in my late teens and very early 20s, when I moved to New York (apart from the 'fantastically successful' bit, if you define success as running your own company and making millions in your twenties - I never did that - alas). However, reality normally reveals itself in some form or another, through heartbreak, through betrayal by family or friends or lovers, even through things occasionally just not working out according to expectation, by the time you're 28, or 30. We all interact with humans, right? For Emily, reality never manages to even scratch her world's surface, apparently, until later. She also has Jonathan, an Abercrombie, viciously ambitious and very unlikable boyfriend on the other side of the country, dealing with a similar dot com venture, and the relationship never quite makes sense, unless somehow the distance manages to mask true personalities.

My main point of bother with the modern plot (loosely based on Sense and Sensibility) was that as CEO of her own company in Silicon Valley, and with Jonathan starting and running his company over in Boston, when they talk of the future, the only option to make the relationship work is for her to quit her job and move across the country to be with him. That the converse might occur is not an option. It is not discussed. It is not even mentioned as a matter of contention. Even when she puts off moving, making excuses and dragging her expensively clad feet, even then, even in her own private musings, it is not once mentioned as a point of resentment. For such a successful, entrepreneurial, intelligent and "inventive" young woman, even as naive as she is colored, that the issue never comes up is a bit negligent in the plot development. At least include a fight about it, a logical, rational reason that it should be Emily that moves and not vice versa. But we, as readers, are not given that.

Despite my now seemingly heavy criticism, and despite the flaws I perceived, I actually enjoyed the novel, and was compelled to keep reading. The writing, the language, is superb. Lyrical. It captures much of the discontent and discomfort of that time, as well as the strange realization as youth merges with adulthood that life will never, ever be quite what we'd expected. The discussion of greed and wavering stock markets is all the more relevant after the crash of 2008. The dialogue is scripted, of course, but cleverly, meaningfully so. Because it's been too long since I've read S&S, I can't speak to the legitimacy of the comparison. Also, the New York Times seemed to enjoy the book more than I, so for a less cynical view, check out their review, although Beth over at Bookworm meets Bookworm seems to agree with many of my issues, as I do with points she brought up and I didn't mention.

The themes are interesting, if not entirely fleshed out, due to the overabundance of character viewpoints in the first half of the book. The ending is satisfying on many levels. That the men somehow manage to take the focus away from the women, in a book about women, is a little strange - but in this world, the plot device might be a clever take on our current culture, and how little it differs from the societal limitations of Jane Austen's time - how far we've come and how far we haven't.

Mind that Gender Gap

Image Credit: George Bates

The Vida 2010 Count was released at the beginning of the month, and it's the talk of the literary world... well, at least, the literary world in which women reside. Men, so far, don't seem quite so interested. Oh, wait, one just weighed in, remarking:

The bottom line at Tin House is that we are aware of the gender disparity, we are concerned about these numbers, and we are committed to redoubling our efforts to solicit women writers.

That's refreshing. So, actually, it's the talk of a small corner of the literary world in which mostly women reside, and not all that many women are talking about it.

Short synopsis: Vida compiled a comparison of women-to-men literary authors reviewing books, reviewed books authored by men vs women, and women and men authors overall throughout the magazines. They remarked on the great gender disparity, as a means to spark discussion:

The truth is, these numbers don't lie. But that is just the beginning of this story. What, then, are they really telling us? We know women write. We know women read. It's time to begin asking why the 2010 numbers don't reflect those facts with any equity.

The biggest defenses of the numbers seem to be:

• More men than women are published.
• Men submit more work than women.
• Laura Miller at Salon muses that while women are known to be avid readers, they tend to read books by both men and women. Men, on the other hand, tend to read books by mostly male authors. (I suspect this is true.)

So what now? Clearly the issue is much deeper than just the decisions made by mostly male magazine editors. We live in a society grossly colored by gender stereotypes, subconsciously teaching us the difference between the roles of men and women in society from a very young age. Ironically: stereotypically, women are "supposed" to be masters of language, and men masters of science and math. (These underlying stereotypes and how they affect our behavior, self-perception and actions are discussed at length in a book I'm currently reading - Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine.) Why, then, are men the ever-constant puppeteers of the realms of science, math and language?

We are still taught implicitly to respect men's opinions more, to admire their work as the standard by which all others must be judged. This, I would think, would have much to do with men submitting more work and being more likely to submit work after being rejected. Men are taught that that's how men do things. Women, on the other hand, aren't supposed to worry so much about success and achievement in the public world, so if at first we don't succeed, well, we tried that once, anyway. We have our homes and our own small private successes to keep us happy.

But it's 2011, you say! All these silly gender disparities have long since been abolished! We've achieved equality!

Actually, we haven't. Women still make only 75-80 cents for every man's dollar, are routinely overlooked for jobs if there's a man available with the same credentials (unless, of course, the job is a traditionally female position, such as nurse or secretary), and if you're a mother, well, forget it. Clearly your focus is on your kids and you're not going to give your job the mathematically impossible 110% of your capabilities and focus.

It's not much of a surprise, then, that the literary world is no different. It's not only that these magazines need to be more gender-conscious, it's that we ALL need to be more aware of the choices we make, and how all of us make judgments about other people based in part on subconscious gender- and race-biased attitudes and expectations that too often reside far below the surface of our awareness.

These underlying reasons for the choices we make and the judgments we pass must be brought to the forefront. Gender parity must be reflected in every aspect of our daily lives, public and private. Men need to continue to share more responsibilities at home, and women need to encompass an ever increasing roll in public life - in executive and editor level positions throughout the business world.

The Vida 2010 Count, then, is yet another tool to bring this awareness, and the need for change, to the surface.

to change or not to change

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet -- or so Shakespeare would have us believe. Perhaps that's true, but wouldn't renaming certain roses 'lilacs' and some 'daisies' and others 'mums' begin to get a little confusing?

Ay, and there's the rub in the decision to change one's name after marriage, a decision reserved most often and almost solely for women. Since becoming engaged, I have struggled with this issue. I still haven't come to any clear-cut decision. No matter what I decide, it will be either a bureaucratic or personal nuisance, or possibly both. Should I keep my name, I will constantly be asked to explain to those I encounter why I made such a decision, or having to explain that no, my last name is not the same as my co-conspirator's, it is ___. If I change it, I'll have all the bureaucratic hoops to navigate, contacting all sorts of people and businesses and agencies to let them know that I'm married, my status has changed, and so has my name. (Will I have to do this anyway? I actually have no idea.) By keeping my name, I could be accused of all sorts of things, such as not being committed enough to family, being too selfish, not letting go of the past, and a multitude of other ridiculous accusations that I cannot even fathom. It's tempting to keep my name just to spite -- to challenge -- such senseless judgments and preconceptions (or more appropriately misconceptions) about the role women are expected to play as spouses and mothers.

Further, surnames are so loaded with patriarchal symbolism that it's almost as if I cannot make a completely 'feminist' choice. My last name is that of my father, not that of my mother, etc., etc., back through the family genealogy. And then the confusion of naming children. Hyphenation seems an obvious compromise, but an incredibly imperfect one.

All feminist and social issues and annoyances aside, this has been my name for the past 30+ years. Changing it would inevitably confuse everyone who would have no reason to know that my relationship status is changing in the law's eyes. It would even be confusing to myself, learning to call myself another name, someone else's name.

On the other hand, the co-conspirator has a much more interesting last name than I, as well as one that carries much more clout around here. (Honestly, if that weren't the case, I wonder if this would be as difficult a decision. I wonder if therein lies my answer?) Moreover, certainly there is something deliciously enticing about reinventing oneself under a new name, and this is probably one of the easiest ways to go about that. More importantly, it would be nice to share the same last name with the co-conspirator, as a symbol of being part of the same family, and of starting a new one. But in the process, it would be nice to honor both of the families from which we came instead of just one.

Is there a non-awkward way to do that?

These small things, a niftier, snazzier last name that carries a little weight + a reinventing of my public persona currently are of equal weight on the scale with all the rest of my stick it to the 'man' mentality. Ideally, the social issues wouldn't play into it. I'd freely admit to overthinking, but this is my - our - identity, which is not something that can necessarily be taken lightly.

At least I have a few more months to decide.

Why We Need the Paycheck Fairness Act

The Paycheck Fairness Act is up for vote in the Senate this Friday - November 19 - and it hasn’t quite mustered the 60 votes needed for safe passage. Urge your senators to pass the act (unless, of course, you have a better tool for getting closer to gender parity in the workplace, or just think women should be valued less).

Think this bill is imperfect? It is, but not so much that we shouldn’t pass it. And what law or bill isn’t imperfect? Many businesses are up in arms, claiming that the floodgates of frivolous lawsuits are going to open. Why would they think this? Do they believe that if women had access to the salary info of their male equals in the workplace, that the disparities - when controlling for education, experience and job performance - would undoubtedly provide valid grounds for lawsuits? Shouldn’t individual employers be held accountable in some way for the pay gap when they themselves perpetuate it?

As Jessica Bennett and Jesse Ellison of Newsweek point out:

Consider this survey from Catalyst, which found that female M.B.A.s who’ve made exactly the “right” life choices—no intention to have children, top-tier schools, high aspirations—still earn $4,600 less per year in their first jobs out of business school. Or U.S. Department of Education data, which separated pay by job sector to determine that whether women who go into teaching or business, social work or science—and before they’ve had the chance to cripple themselves by “life choices” (these are young, childless women we’re talking about)—they will still make roughly 20 percent less than the men they work with. “The last decade was supposed to be the ‘promised one,’ and it turns out it wasn’t,” says James Turley, the CEO of Ernst & Young, which helped fund the recent M.B.A. study.

(Catalyst’s data can be found here)

Furthermore, do you

Remember Lilly Ledbetter? After nearly two decades of employment at Goodyear, a colleague left her an anonymous note with her salary and the salaries of three of her male colleagues. She was stunned to find out that she was earning less for doing similar work. Her case went all the way to the Supreme Court. She won, but the justices ruled that she couldn’t get her back pay because the discrimination began 20 years ago. Ledbetter didn’t sue earlier because she didn’t know about the pay disparity; to the court, that didn’t matter. Congress has since fixed this problem—with the support of Sens. Collins and Snowe. Yet to this day, employers can retaliate against an employee who merely wants to know what her colleagues earn (and yes, that includes firing). (Heather Boushey of Slate)

Perhaps you are indifferent, and of the ‘why should I care?’ population that makes up the majority of America. And no, this law isn’t going to dramatically change anything, not overnight. It is merely the next step towards ensuring fairer compensation, which will help everyone. How many men and families are in no way affected by the paychecks of the women in their lives (or the paychecks they could command)? Girlfriends, daughters, mothers, etc.? Wouldn’t it benefit everyone if women weren’t penalized for being women when it comes to monetarily valuing the work they do?

How can you not care?

The Tyranny of Marriage

via Lara Pawson |  The Guardian:

I had never considered how marriage would change my place in the world. Before we even tied the proverbial knot, I became swiftly aware of discrimination against wives. A job in journalism I was up for suddenly became unavailable: a female manager called to say that now I was married she presumed that it would be difficult for me to be a foreign correspondent.

This was shocking, but the point I wish to make here concerns the privileges accorded to the wedded heterosexual couple. When you marry, you gain a certain unspoken gravitas, as though society heaves a collective sigh of relief: "Thank God they've grown up." Several husbands and wives actually said to me, albeit with a weary smile, "Join the club". Clink clink. And I soon discovered that marriage really is a club.

Being married pulls you into a new elite. It lends you an air of stability and reliability that singles and divorcees are denied. We assume that those who are unmarried probably have something just a teeny bit wrong with them because they have never managed to persuade another to settle down into that cosy unit of coupledom. This is the smug tyranny of husbands and wives.

What is it about marriage that makes people so smug? It's as if there's a relationship status caste system: Married heteros, engaged heteros (yes, somehow the mere promise to the world that you plan to marry results in a collective sigh of relief, perhaps that you're finally, almost, beginning to take life seriously) coupled heteros, single heteros, and then everyone else.

People talk in terms of 'my husband/wife,' 'my girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other,' and this to people who know the person by name and his or her relationship to the speaker. Such behavior seems a subconscious prioritizing of the speaker's possessiveness of the person in some way over that person's individuality and ownership over their own persons. Or perhaps it's more to depersonalize the individual of whom is spoken.

Such possessive language has always felt remarkably uncomfortable falling from my own tongue. I tend to avoid it to the point of allowing acquaintances unfamiliar with my relationship status to infer on their own my relationship with whomever it is I am speaking about, or force them to ask for clarification. I don't define myself by my relationships in that way, and would rather not be judged a part of some mythical hierarchy based on my luck in the romantic relationship world.

This article briefly captures a few of the reasons I find myself ambivalent about my impending legal knot-tying: it's not that I fear committing my life publicly to the co-conspirator, but that I am uncomfortable with all the assumptions and judgments society will next pass on me based solely on the "married" box having an X inside. A married woman is presumed to have certain priorities that have nothing to do with who she is outside of being married and regardless of being a woman. I will become, first and foremost, a married woman, a Mrs. (actually, I will continue to shun that salutation), and presumed to be interested in supporting my husband's wants and needs before my own. Let's face it, even in 2010 wives' wants and desires are presumed to be greatly superseded by those of their husbands. I will also be assumed to want to get right down to baby-making and family-raising, that those will be my only priorities, all the rest life has to offer be damned. After all, whatever else would be the point of becoming a smug-married?

Despite the ambivalence, why would I exercise a privilege denied to millions of people based on purely discriminatory reasons? I assume it will make things easier for us to navigate having children and owning things, as well as protect our rights and means should something happen to either of us, if we were a unified legal entity, but besides custody of our own children and ability to get onto each others' insurance plans, and, of course, making break-ups much more costly, why is marriage necessary?

I propose a new kind of personal union, one that retains the positive connotations of the term 'marriage,' as well as the legal, public commitment, but that sheds the negative baggage the term drags with it. Though, what to call it...