Listening well: bringing stories of hope to life, by Heather Morris

Morris, bestselling author of novels The Tattooist of Auschwitz, Cilka’s Journey, and Three Sisters, shares the listening skills and practices she applied during her research into the history behind those stories. Growing up in rural New Zealand, Morris experienced an austere childhood in which children were seen but not heard. Two exceptions were her father and great-grandfather, who taught her how to listen through their respectful conversations with her. These skills served Morris well when she met Lale Sokolov, a Slovakian Jew who survived the Holocaust, whose story she eventually retells in fiction. While most of Listening Well is framed by Morris’ experiences interviewing and befriending Lale, she also relates the backstories behind her two other novels, both of which required her to listen closely to extract the remarkable true stories of Holocaust survivors. Interspersed throughout the book are practical tips for listening to children, the elderly, and others. This is a thoughtful and insightful exploration of how listening skills are important in everyday life as well as when one is conducting research. VERDICT Recommended for fans of Morris’ fiction and those who would like to improve their listening skills.

Review published originally in Library Journal 147:6 (2022): 155.
 

Vanderbilt: the rise and fall of an American dynasty, by Anderson Cooper and Katherine Howe

 

I enjoyed this part-history, part-memoir by CNN reporter Anderson Cooper, also known as the youngest son of Gloria Vanderbilt of the Gilded Age Vanderbilts, and descendant of  Cornelius Vanderbilt who built a shipping and railroad empire in the 19th century. Cooper didn't try to tell the whole story of the family and all of its branches; instead, he focuses his sights on only a few of the individuals across the generations, ending with his mother's story. While I was expecting something more gossipy, I was pleased to see the historical approach taken by Cooper and his co-author; it's apparent that they did a fair amount of research and digging into family and news archives. Toward the end of the book it becomes less formal and more chatty as Cooper discusses his mother and her relationships with friends like Truman Capote. This was my book club's March selection, and I think we all liked it.

The Magician, by Colm Tóibín

 

I thoroughly enjoyed this highly-researched novel that imagines the life of Thomas Mann, from his childhood in Lübeck, Germany through his moves to Munich, Switzerland, the U.S., and then back to Switzerland for his final years. Mann lived through the first world war, the Munich Revolution, and the rise of Nazism. He left Germany for good in 1933, to take up residence in Switzerland, but as war approached, he left Switzerland to take a post at Princeton University, later settling in southern California. Mann's wife and six children are prominent in this book; they are quite a set of characters. The children are writers, actors, editors, agitators, and much more.

While I have never read much of Mann beyond some assigned readings in college, I think Tóibín really brings the author to life with this book. Tóibín’s writing is really top-notch; he crafts sentences with care and draws out the plot at a pace that keeps the reader engaged and curious. I loved the way he evokes the late-nineteenth and twentieth century history and culture of Germany, including the family dynamics and pressures placed on them. As the story progresses through the 20^th century with Mann moving to the U.S., the book sheds light on all of the historical developments of the time and their impact on Mann, his wife, and their families

Hamnet: a novel of the plague, by Maggie O'Farrell

 

I loved this novel about Hamnet, Shakespeare's son who died at a young age. His cause of death is unknown, but imagined here as a result of the plague, which was prevalent in England at that time. Maggie O'Farrell's writing is superb; her descriptions of life during the 16th century and her characters' actions and emotions are wonderful. One of the interesting aspects of the book is that the author never mentions William Shakespeare by name; he's always described by his role in the family or community: the Latin tutor, the father, the husband. Hamnet's mother is called Agnes in this book; she was apparently referred to as Agnes in some older records, rather than Anne. This books makes the reader feel like they are right there, observing the action and scenery. You really feel how the death of Hamnet affected everyone in the family so deeply, something that's easy to overlook when reading a dispassionate history. This was a hard book to put down, and I will be looking for other books by Ms. O'Farrell.

Better to have gone, by Akash Kapur

 

I enjoyed reading this account of the foundation of a utopian society called Auroville, the “revolution” or “civil war” between its founders and its inhabitants, and the resulting deaths of two of its early inhabitants. Auroville was founded in India in the 1960s, inspired by the teachings of Sri Aurobindo and his follower, a French woman called the “Mother.” Many of the early inhabitants were a mix of American and European hippies, and lost souls, some of whom were clearly suffering from a variety of mental illnesses. The author and his wife, Auralice, grew up in Auroville. Auralice’s mother Diane and her lover John died there in 1986, of suicide (in Diane’s case) and an illness that could easily have been prevented with medical care (in John’s case), but they were taking the advice of one of the men who was close to the “Mother.”

The story itself is quite maddening, but it serves as a cautionary tale for those who would get caught up in religious extremist fringe groups. Diane and John bought into the cult-like worship of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, reading their writings and believing in the flaky things they thought would come to pass. For example, the Mother preached for years that she was developing a new yoga that would cause cellular transformation and presumably lead to immortality. She went so far as to plead with her followers not to bury her too soon if it looked like she died, because she might in fact be just in a trance. Needless to say, she died and was buried, but this caused a huge rift in her followers, leading to the “revolution.” People in the village ended up fighting each other and everyone who didn’t take sides (i.e., “neutrals”) were treated the worst. Some were physically beaten; some were spit upon. The distrust also led to the burning of books in the community library. One of the Mother’s closest acolytes, Satprem (a French émigré whose real name was Bernard and who was a WWII concentration camp survivor with what sounded like depression and PTSD) warned Diane and John not to trust doctors or hospitals, which didn’t help much when Diane suffered an accident and broke her back, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down, or when John got worms, one of the parasites which may have killed him.

The book does have a few flaws: it gets a little tedious in the middle, with maybe too much detail about some of the events in Auroville. It also doesn’t include captions for its photographs; some people can be identified based on context, but there are group pictures where it’s unclear who’s who, which is a little irritating. However, this book's value is in the way it shows how easily people can be swayed, how quickly they can turn nasty, even in a society that is supposed to be about love and peace. Honestly, it was like Lord of the flies.

The origin of the title of the book is interesting; it comes from a letter written by John’s father (a wealthy man who funded much of John’s adventures in Auroville) who wrote that it was “better to have gone” to Auroville; I have to say that it was not better to have gone, at least for John. What took place in the past is not completely forgotten or forgiven, especially by the victims. Now Auroville is a tourist site.