I've been slowly but surely tweaking and expanding the site here. Most of the visual stuff isn't particularly obvious, but it makes me feel better and brings me several steps closer to full XHTML compliance. The content stuff, however, is here for you to look at—I've finally put up the Reviews section. Most of these were written for the newsletter of Sisterspirit Bookstore during the 4 years I volunteered there; the others were written for OutNOW!, a Bay Area gay newspaper, or for the Reclaiming Quarterly. I'm hoping to keep in writing practice by expanding the section as I read, rent DVDs, etc. One navigational note: if the review has a cover graphic, clicking it will take you to Amazon, where you can purchase your very own copy. Just a little service from me to you (and maybe someday back to me).

Posted at 10:54 PM | Permalink

Patricia Foster, Editor
Anchor Books
1994

We have many roles in our lives as women; we are mothers and writers, workers and intellectuals, athletes and artists. And yet it is striking, in spite of all these different ways we have of defining and creating ourselves, that so much of our self-image and identity becomes focused on the physical: our bodies. A host of current "women's" issues center around our bodies, our control over those bodies, and what our culture limits us to because of them. In Minding the Body, Patricia Foster and the contributing writers address that wide range of issues and ideas related to the female body with a great deal of insight.

Foster begins the book with a personal and political memoir about the vision of womanhood that came down through her family, one which placed motherhood as the natural (and mandatory) order of things. She also discusses the warping of self-image that led to her own anorexia as a young woman, that "abyss of illusory self-control" which can lead a healthy woman to starve herself to death. The theme of weight is echoed in many of the selections here, in both its personal and social implications. Sallie Tisdale contributes a moving piece about coming to terms with her body, about what it took for her to step out of the self-loathing that feeds so much of the diet industry.

Other contributors discuss more external political issues. In "Department of the Interior," Linda Hogan traces the lineage of western culture's fear of the female body to a related fear of wilderness—of wildness—specifically relating it to the treatement of Native Americans by arriving Europeans. They saw the land and the native people as wild things needing to be tamed, as women's bodies are often seen now. Western culture "is a culture that fears and destroys what it perceives as wild…." In "Beauty Tips for the Dead," Judith Hooper shares a poignant and insightful memoir of her battle with breast cancer and how it has caused her to re-evaluate her own body.

This collection, though it contains many grim truths about western culture's (and women's own) views of the female body, is not without its mellower and lighter moments. Margaret Atwood contributes "The Female Body," written in response to a request by another anthology on a similar topic. She begins:

I agree, it's a hot topic. But only one? Look around, there's a wide range. Take my own, for instance.

I get up in the morning. My topic feels like hell. I sprinkle it with water, brush parts of it…I dump in the fuel and away goes my topic, my topical topic, my controversial topic…in its oversized coat and worn winter boots,…hunting for what's out there…hungry as ever.

Patricia Foster has done us a service. By providing one book with such a diverse set of ways we can look at the female body—our bodies—she has opened up new ways of seeing all the different ways it can be objectified and used to suit others' purposes and needs. And the contributors, through the strength of their personal testaments, give courage to those who want to find peace in the body.

Posted at 10:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Layne Redmond
Sounds True
2000

This CD is an excellent introduction to the principles of chakra meditation. In three long chants with drum and other accompaniment, master frame drummer Layne Redmond and her associates take the listener on a journey through the body's energy centers. The chants are composed of Sanskrit seed syllables such as vang and lang, and there is a specific set of syllables that corresponds to each chakra and its visual representation or yantra.

The first chant, "Garland of Letters," is slow and hypnotic—it has a kind of lulling effect, but without dulling the brain. The music is spare and very focused on the rhythms of the frame drum, which are stately and steady. The seed syllables of the first through sixth chakras are chanted in order, beginning and ending with aum, and the overall effect is one of a holy procession of some kind.

"Lotus of Light," the second chant, consists of the fifty letters of the Sanskrit alphabet, chanted quickly twenty times for the thousand petals of seventh chakra. I felt as if I were being pulled along by the arm with some urgency, and yet the drone style of the chanting had a very calming effect. It was like being the eye in a small musical hurricane.

The final chant, "Elements into Light," takes you on a journey through the first six chakras by going through the Bija Mantras, or key frequencies, of each one. They represent the elemental energies associated with each chakra being drawn through the body.

Roots of Awakening has a lot to recommend it. On a musical level, it's an interesting mix of middle-eastern-style drumming with sitar, flute, and other instruments, all played by talented musicians. The rhythms are deep and hypnotic, and the use of windwands and udu drums give the music an aboriginal flavor at times.

As an aid for meditation, this CD is also satisfying. The booklet gives a good overview of the chakras, their various symbols and syllables, and the overall philosophy of the system which I found very helpful as a novice. And whether you're particularly interested in the chakra system or not, the chants and music serve very well in coming to a sense of intense concentration and timelessness.

[Originally published in Reclaiming Quarterly #82, Spring 2001]

Posted at 10:10 PM | Permalink

Carolyn Gage
Common Courage Press
1997

In the great self-help wonderland that is the 1990s, the book of meditations has become a recognized staple. A guide for focusing one's thoughts, the book of meditations usually comes equipped with an overall theme, such as alcoholism, Taoism, women-who-do-too-much, etc. Carolyn Gage's new offering, while similar in structure to the standards of the genre, has taken it into an entirely new realm with Like There's No Tomorrow. Simply put, she has supercharged the idea of self-help and brought it to self-power by bringing political and social awareness and action into this setting of mental focus.

The book, rather than being arranged chronologically, is laid out as a journey to strength, each short essay taking its tone from a concept (such as "freedom" or "strategy") and usually a quotation from a woman Gage feels embodies that concept (or the struggle against it). Thus there is a moving essay on Art, and its suppression in women, introduced by this quote from Toni Morrison's Sula:

Like any artist without an art form, she became dangerous.

It would be easy to dismiss this book as just another in a long series of books aimed at inspiring, comforting, and guiding women along their inner journeys. To do so however, would miss the point. In Like There's No Tomorrow, Carolyn Gage has written a book that does all of those necessary things, and then shows us what the next step is: action. And she shows it not only by calling for action loudly, but by living it in her own life and showing us the examples of other women who have done so. It is a book that inspires one to thoughtful courage in the face of modern adversities.

Posted at 04:14 PM | Permalink

Julia Butterfly Hill
Harper San Francisco
2000

By now, the story of Julia Butterfly Hill's two-year vigil to save an ancient redwood tree named Luna is well-known, at least in its basic outline. What current events don't tell us often is what actions like hers mean to those who undertake them and how they come to pass in the first place. If Legacy of Luna only illuminated those aspects of social action, it would be a worthwhile read. Hill, however, also talks about the spiritual aspects of her stay in Luna, from a somewhat naïve and impulsive beginning through the arduous journey that it ultimately became.

Hill is a clear and engaging writer—she takes you directly into her experience, while at the same time keeping it in the context of the larger struggle to save the forest. She begins her tale with a prologue about the 1996 Stafford mudslide, then offers a brief but illuminating summary of how she first came to the forest and felt a call:

Learning about the clear-cut made me feel like a part of myself was being ripped apart and violated, just as the forests were. These majestic ancient places, which are the holiest of any temples, housing more spirituality than any church, were being turned into clear-cuts and mud slides. I had to do something. I didn't know what that something was, but I knew I couldn�t turn my back and walk away.

The opportunity to do something soon presented itself. Hill returned to Arcata, and within a week or so found herself in Luna for the first time, for a five-day stay. After a second five-day stay, she volunteered to stay in Luna longer, to minimize the time spent rotating people to and from the tree. That commitment to stay for a month or so became two years.

What is striking about he story she tells from that point is that it traces her journey from someone with passion and good intentions to an educated and capable activist. She readily admits in the book that she didn't have a lot of knowledge about the forest or logging when she first went up in Luna. But as she came to realize the potential in her presence there, she got the information she needed and presented it whenever the opportunity arose. It's an interesting paradox of this age that she was speaking for an ancient natural order of things, but only able to do so via cell phone.

It is also important to note, as she often does in the book, the importance of her spirituality in sustaining such a lengthy action. She is often in touch with spirit—asking for help, trying to overcome anger, frustration and fear, thankful—and it is clear that her relationship to spirit is at the core of what she accomplished in Luna. Maintaining such a connection is crucial for overcoming the frustrations and feelings of despair that are part of the territory of social action, and perhaps the greatest gift of Legacy of Luna is that it illuminates that relationship and what it can accomplish. It is an inspirational story for anyone who wants to work toward making a better world.

[Originally published in Reclaiming Quarterly #79, Summer 2000]

Posted at 03:48 PM | Permalink

Patricia Lynn Reilly
Ballantine Books
1996

There have been a number of books over the years that have addressed the problem of male-centered religion, especially in the Judeo-Christian traditions. For years, from Mary Daly's Beyond God the Father to Starhawk's The Spiral Dance, feminist thinkers have been reclaiming goddess religions and trying to find ways to bring more gender balance to traditionally patriarchal religions. This book, while firmly placed on that path, takes a slightly different approach than most.

A God Who Looks Like Me is a highly personal book; much of the text consists of remarks from women Reilly has led in workshops, as well as examples from her own life and journal entries. The book comes out of Christian traditions, detailing the alienation these women felt at being excluded from the image of God, as well as from full participation in their churches. They write of great sadness, realizing they will only be second-class participants in a relationship with God, and also go into some detail about how the image of God as a father figure had consequences in their later relationships with men.

Where Reilly's book takes a different turn from most on the subject is in its level of reader participation. While it's possible to read the book straight through, the reader will probably find a much deeper experience by doing at least some of the exercises Reilly provides. She starts with fairly basic concepts like paying attention to the gender we apply to the image of God, what kind of language we use to describe God, and then progresses from there to an exploration of the consequences of that image and language through all aspects of life. I would highly recommend reading this book along with a journal or blank book; it raises a lot of questions well worth exploring.

Posted at 11:13 PM | Permalink

Well, I'm entering my fourth official week of unemployment…I have to say that all things considered, it hasn't been too awful. I've met a lot of people through various Digital Eve events in the last week, and the camaraderie has been outstanding. Lots of good tips on looking for work, leads, advice, and good conversation. I'm looking forward to moving to Seattle more and more, maybe even before I find something on that side.

In the meantime, I faithfully check the job boards, work on writing leads, and drink a lot of coffee. It could be a lot worse, and hopefully this won't drag on to the point where it is. I try to see it as necessary decompression time, since I will most likely be going back into some kind of cubicle environment—that's going to be a rude shock from working at home with a view of the mountains, and yet I find myself looking forward to it in some ways. Whatever's ahead is a new adventure, and I'm grateful for the time and opportunity to explore some options.

Posted at 10:47 PM | Permalink

Emma Donoghue
HarperCollins
1993

Even a devout nonfiction reader like myself is occasionally wary of books with colons in the title—that small bit of punctuation is often a sign of prose drier than melba toast. I was pleased, then, to discover that Emma Donoghue's history of British lesbians, Passions Between Women, was much more along the lines of a fresh sesame bagel. There are plenty of footnotes for those who would like to follow up with original sources, but it is rare to find a scholarly work that reads so smoothly and so well.

While Passions Between Women ostensibly focuses on a very specific period of time, the "long eighteenth century" as Donoghue puts it, the issues it raises have tendrils that reach down to current times. She discusses the sexual shyness of that time, while showing that there are plenty of lesbian references to find in the texts and tracts still remaining. More surprisingly, they are not always covert references; while there are the usual mentions of "particular friendships" and "unnatural fondness for women," there are also mentions of tribades and direct comparisions to that most notoriuous of classical lesbians, Sappho. As Donoghue says in the introduction,

Passions Between Women is not just about those women who seem to have perceived themselves as sexual deviants or rebels; it also includes many texts about spinsters, romantic friends and even women who passed as men…Passions Between Women is not just about the relatively small percentage of women who might have had the knowledge and courage to admit to themselves that they were (in Anne Lister's phrase) "too fond of women"; it is also concerned with stories of women's passionate fondness for women, whether or not the characters or authors seem to think this fondness excessive or deviant.

Donoghue divides her discussion into four main sections, which blend and overlap considerably: gender blurring (including female transvestitism and hermaphrodites, real and imagined), romantic/passionate friendships, sex, and communities of women (including religious communities). In each section, she carefully examines the historical records of the time, especially literature, newspapers and tracts, and medical writings. She documents many women lost to history who managed to live in various types of romantic partnership with other women. This was sometimes on their own terms and sometimes not, and Donoghue takes particular care not to place a a current cultural overlay onto these women and the way they saw themselves. It seems to have been true that while many of the women she describes were "lesbians" in modern terms, both sexually and socially, it is not always true that they saw themselves as different in any way or as members of a deviant class.

Passions Between Women is an important addition to the ever-growing library of lesbian history. Donoghue's scholarship and research are careful and wide-ranging, and her presentation of this dense historical information is well-written and entertaining.

[Originally published in OutNow!]

Posted at 11:23 PM | Permalink