Sands of Eppla: Defining Love and Independence Using A Blind Protagonist

I was enticed by the cover of Sands of Eppla, an epic fantasy by Janeal Falor.  It made me want to explore the book further. It depicts a blind woman with a monkey on her shoulder.  I have an interest in the depiction of characters with disabilities in fantasy and science fiction.  Most recently, I mentioned a young woman who is blind that appeared in the Oremere trilogy by Helen Scheuerer when I reviewed Heart of Mist here.  I was intrigued by an epic fantasy novel that centers on a blind protagonist.  This is why I accepted a review copy of Sands of Eppla from Story Origin.

                          

Other reviewers on Goodreads have commented on the Egyptian flavoring in this novel. It isn't actually ancient Egypt.  It's an original creation of a fantasy realm by the author with a few similarities to ancient Egypt.  There is a pyramid mentioned and a sphinx plays a role in the plot. This particular sphinx flies.  The most famous Egyptian sphinx in our world has no wings.  To show readers that there are depictions of winged sphinxes, I tracked down a public domain image of a pair of winged sphinxes which is shown below.

                           

 

Actually,   I considered Egyptian influence a minor aspect of Sands of Eppla.  I would like to devote more space to the themes of this book.

 Imagine a society where your status is determined by whether you have or haven't experienced love at first sight.   In our world, those few people who have found their partners that way are champions of the phenomenon. The rest of us are skeptical.  I tend to think that love is usually not a lightning strike.  It happens slowly as a relationship develops. Love is a human need.  There are different types of love.  There is love between friends and family members as well as romantic love. In Falor's rather dystopian kingdom, romantic love can only be achieved at first sight, and it's privileged beyond  any other type of love.  The Amant, who have found love at first sight, are the aristocracy.  They are also the only ones who are allowed to marry and have children.  Amant is derived from the Latin word for love which is similar in related languages. The majority who haven't experienced love at first sight are called the Odiosom.  I see this word as being derived from odious.  The Odiosom are treated by the Amant as if they were odious.  They are persecuted, and given the tasks that Amant won't do.

As a feminist, it didn't escape my attention that the only women in this society who lived on their own are Odiosom.   Yet men who lived on their own were also regarded as odious in this fantasy realm.  Independence wasn't admired.  It was seen as socially and politically disqualifying.

Now the truth is that no one is ever completely independent.  Even the most independent woman I know has a support network of friends who she can call on for advice.  Her friends recognize that they are providing input, and that she makes her own decisions.  I saw such a support network operating in the Odiosom community in this novel.

Since Cassandra couldn't see, she would never experience love at first sight and would always be an Odiosom.  As the story opened, she had been suddenly deserted by her caretaker and was living by herself without contact with other Odiosom. She had needed to become self-reliant quickly.  There was no societal expectation that Cassandra would be able to do this. Falor describes the techniques that Cassandra used to survive on her own, and I found them realistic. Her monkey companion was also crucial for Cassandra at that point in her life.  With a foundation of skills that enabled her to live without a human support network, she would be more valuable to the Odiosom community when she eventually found them.

 The concepts I've discussed are wrapped in a suspenseful plot in which Cassandra and other Odiosom are in conflict with the Amant authorities.  I consider this a five star novel which exceeded my expectations.

                       

 



                         

He Does Not Die A Death of Shame-- A Novel About Anti-Apartheid Activism in South Africa

He Does Not Die A Death of Shame by Jack Hoffmann is historical fiction taking place in South Africa under apartheid. I've reviewed two books dealing with this period in South Africa on this blog.  They were  How The Water Falls by K. P. Kollenborn which depicted a very intense and conflicted relationship between a British journalist and an Afrikaner member of the South African police. I reviewed it here. The second one was The Blue African by L.W. Samuelson which is a science fiction novel about an extraterrestrial judging humanity based on what he experiences in apartheid South Africa. I reviewed it  here.  I have also read some extraordinary mysteries taking place in apartheid South Africa by the Swaziland born author Mala Nunn which I highly recommend.

What sets He Does Not Die A Death of Shame apart is its focus on South African Jewish protagonist Zak Ginsberg and his enduring desire to become an anti-apartheid activist.  I had previously read novels about 19th century Jewish immigrants to South Africa, but those characters weren't concerned with racial injustice.  I wanted to experience a fictional Jewish viewpoint on apartheid South Africa which I would find more sympathetic, and in sync with my values.  So I requested a review copy from the author.  Jack Hoffmann very generously provided me with a print edition of his novel free of charge.

                          

Jack Hoffmann begins with a history of Zak's immigrant family beginning with the persecution in Lithuania from which they escaped, how his parents met and married and eventually showing us how the other protagonist, Zulu Mpande Gumede,  first entered Zak's life as the son of Zak's beloved nanny and as a childhood playmate.

As adults their respective statuses under apartheid caused Zak and Mpande to embark on radically different life paths.  I knew that it was the author's intention for the two former playmates to reconnect.  So I was continually wondering when it would happen, in what context this event would occur and what the consequences would be for both of them in a society that forbids any type of relationship between the races.

Zak could have left South Africa.  In fact,  I'm sure that many readers would  consider leaving much wiser than staying. South African mixed race comedian Trevor Noah made it abundantly clear in his memoir why he needed to leave the nation where he had literally been "born a crime".  Zak may have been born into a relatively privileged environment but his vision of tikun olam (the Jewish idea of restoring what is broken in the world) made South Africa an increasingly dangerous place for him to be.

I ran searches on Jewish anti-apartheid activists in South Africa after reading this novel.  I discovered that very prominent leaders in the anti-apartheid struggle, such as Joe Slovo and his wife Ruth First, were Jewish.  Gillian Slovo, who alerted me to the dilemmas of the Truth and Reconciliation process in post-apartheid South Africa in her novel Red Dust, is their daughter.  The anti-apartheid movement may not have needed "white saviors" in the form of these Jewish activists, but they had an inner need to strive for justice that came from their heritage.  I also believe that cooperation between courageous individuals of all races is the best foundation for a future of equality.

Do not read He Did Not Die A Death of Shame if you want a happy ending.   I learned in the course of the narrative that this title is a quote from Oscar Wilde who might seem like the last person to issue a clarion call for the sort of old fashioned values like integrity and loyalty that are embodied in the lives of Jack Hoffmann's central characters. I think that Wilde was a satirist because he hated hypocrisy.  He was willing to end his career in order to stand up for his truth.   Wilde was not the man who succeeded in bringing about  GLBT acceptance.  Zak and Mpande weren't the men who ended apartheid, but they were heroes of their historical moment.  Without such  historical precursors, the goals of the struggle might never be attained. South Africa still isn't a completely just society, but it's closer to that objective than it was under apartheid.  That's why I am glad to have encountered characters like Zak Ginsberg and Mpande Gumede who stood for their own truths.

                      

Warrior Won: A Pregnant Woman's Spiritual Adventures

 I practice yoga, but hadn't previously read a yoga novel.  For one thing, I rarely read contemporary fiction unless it's a crime novel.  When I first encountered the title Namaslay, I imagined that it was a book about a serial killer of advanced yoga practitioners who refused to reveal their secrets. Based on reviews,  it's actually a yoga manual which takes an unusual approach.  I may want to read it some day.

Warrior Won by Meryl Davids Landau also isn't crime fiction.  With that title, it could be a thriller detailing the adventures of a Green Beret decorated for heroism. Warrior Won is indeed an adventure novel, but the adventures are of a spiritual nature.  I was particularly interested in the fact that this spiritually adventurous protagonist is pregnant. My yoga manual for many years was Inner Beauty, Inner Light: Yoga For Pregnant Women by obstetrician Frédérick LeBoyer which was given to me as a gift. Yet I was sure that I'd never seen a yoga novel whose main character is pregnant.  So I accepted a review copy free of charge from the author, and this is my honest review.

                        

Warrior Won is the sequel to Landau's Downward Dog, Upward Fog which I have not read. Lorna Crawford is the central figure in both novels.  I consider her spiritually adventurous because she's always willing to try different practices from a variety of spiritual traditions.

For example, Lorna utilizes backwards breathing which I learned through Tai Chi. It's often called Taoist breathing.  It involves exhaling before inhaling.  I was taught that this type of breathing strengthens chi which is life energy.

Since yoga is a Hindu philosophy, it was not surprising that Lorna had integrated Kirtan into her life.  This is a Hindu performance art involving chants set to music. The culture of India also entered the narrative when one of her friends  introduced Lorna to the Ayurvedic Diets  suited to three body types called doshas. I hadn't explored the Ayurvedic approach, so I found the page I've linked on Mehmet Oz's website instructive.

Lorna isn't an idealized character.  She occasionally made poor decisions.  In one case, it could have had an adverse impact on her pregnancy. I wanted to scold her at that point in the plot.  Fortunately, she had an excellent support network-- most notably her husband, her midwife and her like-minded friends who met as a group several times during the course of the narrative to do spiritual work for Lorna.  If they were Wiccan, I would have called them a coven.

One of these meetings of Lorna's friends was called a Blessingway.  This is the English term for a type of  Diné ceremony. Diné is what the Navajos call themselves.  Landau cites a book titled The Blessingway by Veronika Sophia Robinson which is described as written for the purpose of facilitating the adaption of the Diné Blessingway for non-Native participants.  I haven't read Robinson's book, but it seems to me that she has done a dis-service to the Diné.  I have no issues with the creation of new ceremonies, but I do find it problematic to appropriate the specific term Blessingway for what looks like a more generic blessing ritual.  I found an authentic description from a Diné source at this Blessingway  page.  I feel that Landau made a mistake when she decided to utilize Robinson's book in her novel, and repeat Robinson's act of cultural appropriation by calling the ritual a Blessingway.  This is a single scene in Warrior Won. I would not tar the entire book with the same brush, but I do think that this subject is an important matter that needs to be mentioned in my review.

I would like to close by saying that I thought the characterization of Lorna was believable, and that there were times when I identified with her.  Lorna and her husband had to deal with a tragic revelation in the course of this novel.   Their process of moving through grief to acceptance was very touching. My heart went out to them.  This aspect of the novel had tremendous impact.  I feel that people could benefit from the experience of reading Warrior Won.

                                 

They Called Us Enemy--George Takei's Graphic Memoir is a Story That Must Be Told

I've read a number of novels dealing with Japanese American internment during WWII. I certainly never expected that there would be a graphic memoir dealing with the WWII experiences of a Japanese American.  Leave it to George Takei to show us how that's done in an era when his story has a new urgency.

                                 

 There were so many moments in this memoir that provoked thoughts for me.  I'm going to mention the highlights from my notes in this review.

Takei reveals that when he was a teenager, post-WWII, he was angry that his father hadn't organized a protest against internment instead of acceding to it and bringing his family to a succession of camps.  Takekuma Takei, George Takei's Japanese born father, then proceeded to confirm his son's accusation that Japanese are too passive which is definitely a stereotype.  He said "Maybe you're right."  Takekuma definitely wasn't a passive man.  George Takei portrays his father as an activist throughout most of his life, but he was passive in this argument with his son.

 I would have defended my decision.   Protesters would have been rounded up and possibly separated from their families.  Five year old George Takei would still have been consigned to internment camps, but he could have grown up without his father.  I feel that Takekuma Takei did the best he could for his family under the circumstances.  The other observation that I'd like to make about this scene is that it's extremely honest.  George Takei was showing himself being immature in his thinking, and even showing prejudice against Japanese born people.

I was interested that Takei indicated in this memoir that Earl Warren's advocacy for Japanese American internment was due to political strategy. I ran a search on the topic and discovered that it was worse than that.  There's an article written by Earl Warren's law clerk in the 1970's, G. Edward White, here.  White says that the entire political class just before WWII, including Earl Warren, were deeply prejudiced against Japanese Americans.  It wasn't just political strategy.  They all sincerely believed in racist stereotypes due to segregation.  White people never met any Japanese Americans during this period.  White goes on to say that this is why it's so significant that Earl Warren openly stated in his memoirs that he'd been wrong about Japanese American internment and apologized. This may seem like too little too late, but it's actually a big deal when you consider that his fellow Supreme Court liberals Hugo Black and William O. Douglas never reversed themselves on Japanese American internment and never apologized for it.

Takei mentions that the U.S. Supreme Court decision in Fred Korematsu v. the United States had been overturned.  Fred Korematsu was a Japanese American who resisted internment and sued the U.S. government.  The Supreme Court at the time upheld the decision of the lower courts that internment was the prerogative of the U.S. military and the courts couldn't interfere.  It was overturned in 1983 on the grounds of suppression of U.S. Naval Intelligence's Ringle Report which found that Japanese Americans weren't in general a danger to the United States, and that the few that were had already been incarcerated before the internment order was issued.  It was the U.S. Solicitor General Charles Fahy who suppressed the Ringle Report. I hadn't heard of the Ringle Report until I did the research for this blog post today.

Takei argues that if Japanese American internment was unconstitutional, so are the current internments of refugees seeking asylum.  Racism is the motivation for both.

This is an important issue for me because like many American Jews, I have a refugee in my family.  My father was six years old when he fled Poland with his family between the World Wars because of the pogroms against Jews. See the article What Were Pogroms? from My Jewish Learning for the history of pogroms.  I actually hadn't known that the word "pogrom" is Russian until I read this article.

They Called Us Enemy should be widely read by people of all ages.   George Takei's  story brings home for all of us that internment for racist reasons is a truly terrible wrong.

                            

                           

Carmen: A Gypsy Geography-- A Book on Carmen's Roots and Influence

When I started  Carmen: A Gypsy Geography by Ninotchka Devorah Bennahum in June, I didn't really have time to read it but I made time for it because I was going to see the opera Carmen live the very next day.  I decided that I would read as much of Bennahum's book as I could that weekend.  I believed that knowing something of the history and cultural origins of the opera would cause me to appreciate what I was seeing on stage so much more.  I was absolutely right about that.

                           

First, let me say that I understand that Romani is the preferred name for the people often called "Gypsies". It's what this people prefer to call themselves.  I will refer to them as Romani after this paragraph, but the word "Gypsy" is part of the title of this book, and Bennahum consistently uses that non-preferred term.

On the weekend  that I saw the opera, Carmen, I managed to read Bennahum's chapter about Prosper Mérimée's novella "Carmen" on which the opera was based, and the chapter about the tragic history of the opera's composer, Georges Bizet.  I had a discussion with the friend with whom I saw the opera.  I told him that Bizet died thinking that Carmen was a failure and said "I should have written better music."  My friend is a huge fan of Mozart and other German composers.  For him, Carmen didn't have the musical sophistication that he preferred.  He said that it reminded him of theatrical musicals.  He thought that its resemblance to musicals is the reason why Carmen remains so popular.   Perhaps Bizet wasn't a great composer when you compare him to Mozart or Beethoven, but there is no doubt that Carmen has had some cultural influence.

I resumed reading this book after I had finished with posting reviews in response to requests from authors, publishers and publicists. So I could then read more of Bennahum's perspective on Carmen.

In the chapter about the ancient sources of Carmen, her similarities to Lilith resonated most for me.  I thought Bennahum's effort to connect her to Ariadne was more than a bit strained.

I also find it difficult to believe that the Spanish exclamation of Olé was originally Allah, as Bennahum claims. In a search, I saw this claim debunked in a blog post that was removed, but can still be found on the Wayback Machine at Ole, Allah and All. The post states that the first recorded use of Olé was in 1541 which is a little too late in Spanish history for any relationship to Allah to be viable.

Since I had recently seen a wonderfully effective Black Carmen on stage,  I was very interested in this book's discussion of the commonalities between freed African slaves and Romani in Spain.   Bennahum points out that African freedwomen engaged in the same professions as Romani women, and thinks that they also both lived in mountain caves.  I know from my reading about Romani that they have historically been tremendously concerned with ethnic purity, but I am also aware that there have been Romani who were expelled from their communities because they intermarried with outsiders.  So it seems to me possible that there have been people who are both Romani and African descended. It was nice to imagine that the marvelous Black Carmen that I had just seen, is at least feasible.

 Although there were questionable statements in this book, I also thought there were remarkable insights, and some really great footnotes.  For me, this was a worthwhile read.