by Mira Kamdar ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 1, 2000
An informative read, though not as memorable overall as it might have been. (b&w photos, maps, and glossary)
A well-researched but stylistically flat family memoir.
Kamdar, a policy analyst with the New School in Manhattan, reaches back 100 years to place the Indian half of her family history into the broader contexts of the South Asian diaspora and the decline of India’s rural, clan-based, traditional culture. She starts with “one of the great mysteries of my childhood”: her beloved Motiba (grandmother) had abstract designs tattooed on her chin, cheeks, and forearms, but she never discussed them. After Motiba’s death in the 1990s, Kamdar learned these markings were probably applied for Motiba’s marriage ceremony nearly 80 years earlier, and were thus an emblem of her status as a precious commodity given by her family to her in-laws—a far cry, to her mind, from the tattoos that modern girls wear as personal fashion statements. She then puts this insight aside and launches into stories about her forebears: her great-grandmother’s pet female buffalo, her grandfather’s strict devotion to Gandhi’s moral philosophy (which kept him celibate four years into his marriage to Motiba), her father’s childhood in Rangoon in the 1940s and his later emigration to the US and marriage to the Danish-American farm girl who became her mother. These stories are fun and fascinating, and Kamdar connects them convincingly to larger historical events. But it’s only in later sections—discussing her own childhood as a “foreign” girl in Oregon and California during the 1950s and ’60s, for example—that her prose rises above the merely serviceable and becomes as riveting as her introduction.
An informative read, though not as memorable overall as it might have been. (b&w photos, maps, and glossary)Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2000
ISBN: 1-891620-58-4
Page Count: 320
Publisher: PublicAffairs
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2000
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by Paul Kalanithi ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 19, 2016
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
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A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
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PERSPECTIVES
by Chris Gardner with Quincy Troupe ‧ RELEASE DATE: June 1, 2006
Well-told and admonitory.
Young-rags-to-mature-riches memoir by broker and motivational speaker Gardner.
Born and raised in the Milwaukee ghetto, the author pulled himself up from considerable disadvantage. He was fatherless, and his adored mother wasn’t always around; once, as a child, he spied her at a family funeral accompanied by a prison guard. When beautiful, evanescent Moms was there, Chris also had to deal with Freddie “I ain’t your goddamn daddy!” Triplett, one of the meanest stepfathers in recent literature. Chris did “the dozens” with the homies, boosted a bit and in the course of youthful adventure was raped. His heroes were Miles Davis, James Brown and Muhammad Ali. Meanwhile, at the behest of Moms, he developed a fondness for reading. He joined the Navy and became a medic (preparing badass Marines for proctology), and a proficient lab technician. Moving up in San Francisco, married and then divorced, he sold medical supplies. He was recruited as a trainee at Dean Witter just around the time he became a homeless single father. All his belongings in a shopping cart, Gardner sometimes slept with his young son at the office (apparently undiscovered by the night cleaning crew). The two also frequently bedded down in a public restroom. After Gardner’s talents were finally appreciated by the firm of Bear Stearns, his American Dream became real. He got the cool duds, hot car and fine ladies so coveted from afar back in the day. He even had a meeting with Nelson Mandela. Through it all, he remained a prideful parent. His own no-daddy blues are gone now.
Well-told and admonitory.Pub Date: June 1, 2006
ISBN: 0-06-074486-3
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Amistad/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2006
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