A Timely Look at History.

Book cover for In the Garden of Beasts.  Shows Nazi triumphal pillars

In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler’s Berlin by Erik Larson, originally published in 2011 by Crown Publishing, now available in several formats through many outlets; link above is an Amazon affiliate link.

Have you ever wondered how on earth it was possible that a ridiculous-looking figure such as Adolph Hitler ever came to power in Germany? Here’s one takeaway from this fascinating book: Most informed citizens simply refused to believe that Hitler was anything but a joke, until it was too late. Never underestimate the credulousness of the human heart!  We hear what we want to hear.

William E. Dodd was America’s first ambassador to Hitler’s Germany, bringing his wife, son, and flamboyant daughter Martha to live in Berlin in 1933. As violence, especially against Jews, escalated, Dodd tried to warn the State Department back in Washington of this growing threat.

But no one listened. After all, we were dealing with our own crisis of the Great Depression. And it’s an interesting question as to what the US could actually have done to stop Hitler’s rise. But a recognition, at least? Strongly-worded condemnations? Publicity about what was actually happening in Germany as Hitler’s goons terrorized ordinary citizens? (And even American citizens were caught up in the terror. The book opens with a truly horrific description of how an American doctor practicing in Berlin was beaten by uniformed officers because of an anonymous tip that he was “a potential enemy of the state.”)

What sets this book apart from the mass of books on Hitler, the Nazi Party, et. al., is the perspective from the ambassador and other outsiders as they try to make sense of what is happening right in front of them. Dodd and his family are so interesting in themselves that they provide a strong narrative spine for the terrible events unfolding as a monster comes to power. What was it really like to live in Berlin during the 1930’s? How did people go on with their lives from day to day under the threat of Hitler’s power? That’s just it: they got on with their lives. Most of them kept their mouths shut. Not all. Some spoke out and paid a terrible price. But enough just . . . went along.

Doesn’t sound like a very happy book, does it? I think I’ve made it clear in other book posts that my aim in these recommendations isn’t to give you books to make you smile, necessarily, although there are some funny ones here and there. Last week’s offering is pretty amusing, but its humor wasn’t the main point. Instead, my emphasis was on what the book had to say about family relationships. So this one won’t make you feel good but it will, I think, be a fascinating window into the past and perhaps a cautionary tale for the present. A good reminder that “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

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You Can’t Repair the Damage Ahead of Time.

man with chainsaw topping off a tree
But you can at least prepare. I thought of this idea today while I was listening to a story on the radio about Hurricane Matthew. The background audio was of chainsaws as workers tried to clear fallen trees from the roads. This same concept has also occurred to me when I’ve read about the run-up to a battle. The medics are in place, bandages and medicines in hand. The tents are set up. But . . . there’s no way to bind up the wounds ahead of time. There’s no way to extract the bullets before they’re shot.  All this has to wait until the battle has taken place. How awful it will be, though, if the preparations that can be done aren’t done.

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The Truth Is Never the Problem.

Newspaper showing the word truthThe problem is the problem.

Great quotation gleaned from the conservative website TownHall. I don’t know know that it’s original with the author John Hawkins but haven’t found it anywhere else.

He was talking about the election, but you know where to go on this website to read my opinions about that. Here I want to make a broader application: that we get mad at the person who’s telling us the truth about an issue instead of facing the truth itself and what we need to do about it.

The other side of this particular coin is the attitude we need to have as truth-tellers, which is to be as loving and kind as we can. (I tend to be an eye-roller, head-clutcher and hair-puller-outer, which is not helpful.) But I’ll save the discussion of that whole personality flaw for another day. Here I’ll leave you (but mostly myself) with this additional thought: Most criticism is at least somewhat justified. There’s almost always a kernel of truth in there somewhere. So how will you react when someone points out a problem?


Beware of “The China Syndrome.”

Highly polished table set with elegant chinaYet another cadged idea from my Top Three Sources. I could probably do a post a week based on Gretchen Rubin’s podcast that she does with her sister, “Happier with Gretchen Rubin.” Before I get to the above subject let me encourage you to listen to this week’s episode and, if nothing else, start at about minute 19 and listen to Liz explain how she gave a very tactless gift to her mother-in-law. Gretchen just loses it. I would challenge you to keep a straight face during this segment. I had to ask myself, Didn’t Gretchen know that Liz would tell this story? Don’t they plan the podcast out in advance? It sounds completely genuine.

Anyway, be that as it may, what’s the “China Syndrome”? It has nothing to do with China the country and everything to do with the china that you put on your table–or, as so often happen, the china that you keep on the top shelf of your kitchen cabinets. It’s the idea that by having something you’ll automatically do something. If I have nice china, then I’ll automatically give great dinner parties, with a beautiful table and great food and fascinating conversations. (Not to toot my own horn here, as I have lots of China Syndrome failures in other areas of my life–I actually do this dinner party thing sometimes. Not as often as I should, but sometimes.) Guess what? You have to plan the menu, and do the shopping, and drag that china off the shelf and set the table, and figure out when to cook what, and oh yes, invite some people over, and then sit down and enjoy the occasion. (I write in the “procrastination” chapter in my book that there have been times when I couldn’t do that last item because I’d had so much to do at the last minute and was so tired that all I wanted my guests to do was to go home.)

The China Syndrome is alive and well in every area of life. Right now I have one of those big spring mix containers sitting in the fridge. I bought it Tuesday, telling myself, “If you buy this you have to commit to eating it up.” How many salads have I made from it? One. Every single time I buy one of these containers I end up throwing most of it away. Just having the stuff in the fridge doesn’t mean that I’ll go to the trouble of making a salad and, you know, actually eating it.

Pretty trivial to worry about a few bucks’ worth of salad greens, right? It’s a symptom, though, of a bigger problem: failure to execute. We make all these grandiose plans but we don’t carry them through. We think that buying something, or joining something, or even just getting older, will mean that we’ll actually carry through on whatever it is. “I’ll buy this book on marriage and my marriage will be better.” “I’ll join a gym and get fit.” “Next spring I’ll turn ____ and then I’ll be motivated to ____.” Right now I’m going through my usual procrastinating about learning the music for our upcoming Cherry Creek Chorale concert. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to buckle down and do this, since I love being in the Chorale so much. I really want to know the music well; I’m particularly aware of my need to learn the clapping pattern in our arrangement of “Get Along Home, Cindy.” That sort of thing just drives me nuts! And if I don’t learn it, and I’m the only one up there who’s off, it’s going to be pretty embarrassing. (There a video of the Parker Chorale on YouTube that shows me being off four times in the course of a few measures in our performance of “Age of Aquarius.” Two of my nephews watched it with me and just about fell through the floor laughing. Thank goodness it’s only had 79 views. But if you want to watch something really funny I’ll embed it below even though that may mean upping the views. Hey, if it brightens your day I guess it’ll be worth it. This concert was back in the early days of that Chorale; they’re now in a very snazzy venue at the Parker Arts Center and a much bigger and better group.)

Well, better quit and make myself some salad for lunch. Where in your life to do you see the China Syndrome?

What’s Down in the Well . . . 

bucket being pulled from a well

 will come up in the bucket.

I am a shameless cadger of ideas, with the three primary ones being:

1. My pastor.
2. Gretchen Rubin.
3. The teaching leader at the Bible study I attend.

Today’s idea is from #3. And how I got to hear her say this is a story in itself.  Remember my post about my three mottoes? One of them was “enlarge my coast,” a prayer that God would, in His will and timing, give me more opportunities to serve. So last week there was an announcement that a couple of group leaders were needed.  ‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘I could do that.’ So I turned in my name. got a phone call, met with the teaching leader, and yesterday had the great privilege of going to the leadership meeting. Boy howdy, they don’t mess around! I got involved in a similar group back in Virginia but only lasted a year because of all the wasted time in meetings. Can’t say the same about these. Two hours and fifteen minutes of focused attention on the focus of attention, which is our study of the Gospel of John. No getting coffee and chit-chatting. No little “devotional.”

The statement of the day here was just a little throwaway line. So obvious, and yet so true. You can’t draw up something that isn’t in the well in the first place; you can’t give out what isn’t in your own heart. A great reminder!


A Conservative Two-Fer.

Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left, from Mussolini to the Politics of Change by Jonah Goldberg, available on Amazon and other outlets in several formats, originally published in 2008.

Witness: A True Story of Soviet Spies in America and the Trial that Captivated the Nation by Whittaker Chambers, available on Amazon and other outlets in several formats, originally published in 1952.

​First of all, let me say that I think the words “secret history” should be banned from all written communications whatsoever, if for no other reason than they are a reminder of the terrible Dinesh D’Souza movie. And in the case of Goldberg’s book (written well before the DDM came out) the words don’t really apply to his subject anyway. I’m a little surprised that a writer of as much wit and precision as Goldberg would use such a sloppy term. He should have called it “The Little-Known History” or perhaps “The History That People Too Lazy to Read History Missed Out On.” But maybe that’s a little clunky?

Anyway, I have to be honest here: I didn’t finish listening to the audiobook; I bogged down about one-fourth of the way through, when Goldberg said something along the lines that “Although FDR had fascistic ideas, he himself was not a fascist.” I just tried to find that line in the online version of the book and gave up, so you’ll have to take my word for it. Although I’ve fallen in love with audiobooks (my current one is the George Tenet memoir; look for that one soon), they work best when the book has a narrative spine. While Goldberg does start with Woodrow Wilson and World War I and moves on to the present day, his organizing principle is philosophical rather than historical. The book is very dense, and many of his ideas are so complicated that you have to go back and re-read them. Trying to re-listen to a section on audio can be very frustrating. But I’m not promoting a book that I haven’t finished, because I realized quite early on that I had indeed read it back when if first came out, but I remembered the title as The Happy Fascist. You can see from the cover art why that would be. I found it to be fascinating then and remember discussing it with my husband. So if you like challenging ideas that force you to re-think preconceived notions, I would say to get the print or digital version and go with that.

But perhaps you’d like something with a little more of a personal touch. Then I’d recommend the Chambers book. I was very much reminded of this one while struggling through Goldberg’s. Why? Because both men present the idea that it’s a mistake to talk about the “right” and the “left” in political philosophy. (Did you know, by the way, that those terms are completely accidental? They stem from the seating arrangement of the National Assembly in France at the time of the French Revolution; those in support of the king sat on the speaker’s right and those in favor of revolution sat on his left. These divisions continued and became entrenched in the language of politics.) It’s more correct to think of political and philosophical positions as a circle. As you move away from classic liberalism and true democratic ideals you’re going down either side of a circle that meets at the bottom; whether it’s socialism shading into communism into Bolshevism or authoritarianism shading into totalitarianism, the end result is the same: the elimination of personal freedom and the total control of the government in every area of life. I remember trying to explain this concept to my American history class at the time I read Witness, but I wasn’t very successful. My students were looking at each other and muttering, “What’s she talking about?”

Whittaker Chambers joined the American Communist Party as a young man and participated in some espionage activities during the 1930’s. He became a Christian, broke with the party, and ended up accusing a number of US government officials, including Alger Hiss in the State Department, of feeding him information. The Hiss case has been hotly debated ever since, although documents that surfaced during the early 2000’s showed Hiss was almost certainly guilty. Chambers could have kept his mouth shut and avoided all the controversy, but as he saw world events in 1939 he felt that he had to speak up. My most vivid recollections of the book (I read it 30 years ago) is of Chambers leading FBI agents to a stash of papers hidden in a field inside, of all things, a pumpkin. How the papers weren’t all mildewed is beyond me; maybe they were. And then, either in that stash or another, there were some microfilmed items showing Hiss’s involvement. But no, officials said, Chambers’ story couldn’t be true, because that type of film wasn’t being manufactured at the time of the documents. Chambers had to have faked them. Chambers said when confronted with this evidence, “God has deserted me.” But then it turned out that Kodak had indeed made that film for a short time that fit in with the dates of the documents.

As I’m sitting here writing about this book I read so long ago and being reminded of how powerfully it affected me, I’ve decided that I’ll give it another shot, this time on audio. It’s available through Hoopla, I’ve just discovered. So I’ve added it to my account. After I finish the Tenet book I’ll go on to this one and report back. It’s not quite as long as the Trollope book I reviewed last week; that one is 34 hours, this one is only 30. And I’m reading in physical form the book on the Benghazi attacks, 13 Hours, in my efforts to pull together a coherent narrative of what actually happened to bring about that tragedy and its aftermath. So I have plenty to keep me occupied, even without all of my podcasts and my reading about the election. (Be sure to migrate over to Intentional Conservative if you’re interested in my ideas about this totally bonkers election season.)

What’s occupying your mind these days?

Did I Follow My Own Advice

Pile of potstickers on a white plate

I wrote on Friday about how I was going to use a to-do list for this past weekend’s festivities and would report back on how it all went.  So . . . so-so. I gave up at about 9:00 Saturday evening on getting anything more done, depending on the ol’ get-up-insanely-early scenario.  And I did get up, and I did get quite a bit done before I left for church.  And planned out how to get everything else done between lunch and the game.  My dear sister-in-law helped me assemble the potstickers and the empanadas, and I have to say that it went very smoothly. (The picture isn’t mine, although ours didn’t look all that different.)

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Did I Follow My Own Advice?


Picture

I wrote on Friday about how I was going to use a to-do list for this past weekend’s festivities and would report back on how it all went.  So . . . so-so. I gave up at about 9:00 Saturday evening on getting anything more done, depending on the ol’ get-up-insanely-early scenario.  And I did get up, and I did get quite a bit done before I left for church.  And planned out how to get everything else done between lunch and the game.  My dear sister-in-law helped me assemble the potstickers and the empanadas, and I have to say that it went very smoothly. (The picture isn’t mine, although ours didn’t look all that different.)

But I can’t say that I set out any kind of absolute timetable or list.  I fell back on carrying it all around in my head, and so I ended up having to get stuff done during the game and missed both Broncos touchdowns.  It ain’t the same watching it on instant replay!  At some point I found myself thinking, “Why am I still working like a dog in here?  I thought I had everything done!” And the kitchen was a complete and total mess.  Again, said sister-in-law bailed me out by washing a mountain of things in the sink, or I would have been trapped in a pile of rubble, unable to move.  Thanks, Joyce!

Everyone had a great time, though, which is always the most important thing.  I had given some thought to feeding people lunch as well as dinner and that worked out well.  One nephew and his girlfriend came by briefly and we were able to have them join us for sandwiches before they had to leave.  My husband and son, as always, pitched in. Gideon baked the rolls for the sandwiches and did a first round of kitchen cleanup. We ended up with nine adults and two adorable children around the dinner table for the official celebratory dinner (Gideon is now 22) of potstickers, empanadas, cabbage/pepper/scallion salad with cilantro-lime vinaigrette, and chocolate banana bread pudding with caramel sauce. It took quite awhile to get the kitchen back to normal, but I finally finished that up last evening, telling myself that no, I did not have time to sit and watch part 2 of the documentary on the JonBenet Ramsey case. (This year is the 20th anniversary of that horrible tragedy, so everyone’s jumping on the bandwagon about it. I could pretty much tell where they were going with their solution after I watched part 1, and I think they’re probably right, incredibly awful as that solution is.) 

So what’s next on the to-do list?  Well, I’ve set up Swipes to list my daily jobs . . . every day.  There are still items on that, as well as some tasks left over from Friday.  My little timer just buzzed.  I had set it for 30 minutes and have now used that up, so I guess I’ll quit.  As I’m finding more and more to be true, it’s not enough to have a great tool; you must use it. 

How do you keep track of what you need to do?  I’d be so interested to hear your ideas!


The Happiness of a To-Do List

Watch and to-do list on smartphoneHave you been listening to the Gretchen Rubin podcast, “Happier”? Whyever not? I keep pushing it!

So, just in case you missed my earlier nagging, Rubin, the author of three wonderful books, teamed up with her sister about a year and a half ago to do a podcast.  Liz is a TV writer and producer in LA, Gretchen lives in New York City, and they discuss their lives, take listener questions, give a “happiness hack,” and award a happiness demerit and gold star each week.  It’s fun and light but always has something in it to make me think.

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A Lovely Novel by the “Daily Hercules”

Cover for The Last Chronicle of Barset, shows a mother and her children

The Last Chronicle of Barset by Anthony Trollope, available in numerous editions from numerous sources.  You can get it on Kindle for free.

The candidate for this week’s book review was Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg, but I’m still wading through it.  Don’t get me wrong:  it is an important book, I might say even an essential book.  But it will have to wait until next week.  I can only absorb a little of it at a time and am now just four and a half hours into a 16-hour audio version.

For some reason I was reminded of Trollope’s masterpiece and decided that it would be a good stand-in, even though it has nothing to do with geopolitics.  Instead, I guess you could say that it has much to do with personal politics.  I have read it at least twice and probably more; I love it and can hardly believe that Trollope ground it out, under pressure and deadline, just as he did all of his novels.  But more of that in a minute.

First let me say that if you do not fall madly in love with the character of Lily Dale, and mourn for Johnny Eames, and want to strangle Mr. Crawley, well, I just don’t know about you.  ​These characters are as real to me as . . . Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane.  As you might gather from the title, the novel is part of a series and is indeed the last one.  But you don’t have to have read the other five to enjoy this one, although if you’d like to get more of the backstory you could read The Small House at Allington, the one immediately preceding Last Chronicle.

I am amazed at writers who seem to have an inexhaustible geyser of creativity gushing out of them. (Perhaps not the best image.)  Where does all of this come from?  How do you just create these people, and these events, and these entire societies, out of your own imagination?  It boggles me.  I’m a very slow writer myself, and if I ever manage to get down on paper the one novel I keep saying I’m going to write it will probably be finished on my deathbed.  Trollope is known not only for the quality and quantity of his output but also for his methodology.  He paid a servant on his estate five pounds a year to wake him up at 5:00 every morning–the man was not to give up until Trollope was out of bed–and sat at his desk from 5:30 to 8:30, churning out 250 words every 15 minutes.  If he finished one novel before his time on a certain morning was up he started on a new one. (It’s tempting to take all this with a grain of salt.  Did the man never do any revising?  Still, those 47 novels, plus travel writing and an autobiography, didn’t come out of nowhere.)  The truly amazing aspect of Trollope’s writing is not its volume; people have churned out so-called “potboilers” by the gross ever since it was possible to get paid by the word.  (The term refers to literary output done simply to pay the bills, or to keep the pot boiling.)  His portrayals of character are remarkable, particularly those of women. (I just leafed through a few pages and was reminded of Mrs. Proudie, yet another great Trollopian creation.)

Great quote from Trollope: “A small daily task, if it be really daily, will beat the labours of a spasmodic Hercules.” So true.

I know, I know.  My edition runs to almost 900 pages of small type.  Audible.com has the audiobook available, although it’s kind of expensive.  My library system, Arapahoe Libraries, has it on Hoopla. Hey, it’s only thirty-four hours! Think of all the needlepoint you could get done in that amount of time!

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