Educated - Tara Westover (2018)

Recently, my alma mater instituted an online-only book club, code name Voracious Violets. I have never been part of a book club, though I ran Flying Houses in the hopes that some of the reviews would inspire a selection in one or two of them. It is unfortunate that we will not have the in-person meetings with the obligatory wine, but such is life nowadays as we recede further and further into the realm of Never Showing Up. It is all too tedious and time-consuming. It is a poor substitute at best, yet it is one I must entertain as a tribute to my alma mater. It is also a way to highlight more popular books, and participate in a greater cultural dialogue than I alone create with my idiosyncratic selections and demographic preferences. FH will remain dead, where it belongs--except for these reviews and short form posts..............

It is not a stretch to say that Educated was the most celebrated book of 2018. There is nothing pretentious about it. It's your basic run-of-the-mill memoir: a story of growing up and becoming an adult and making one's way in the world. The author, Tara Westover, grew up on a mountain in Idaho, one of seven children in a family that could be described as eccentric--to say the least. (As Dennis Hopper once said in Speed, "Poor people are crazy, Jack. I'm eccentric.") Tara's "education" from hard-scrabble sheltered youth to uber-Ivy academic mirrors that of her family, from crazy to eccentric. 

The book opens with a description of the mountain on which her family lives, the "Princess." The anthropomorphizing of the landscape suggests a more primal connection to the land and correspondingly a more primitive way of life. Her two grandmothers live nearby, one "grandma down the mountain" and one "grandma in town." There is a local grocery store that Tara later works at. I'm not sure if her family ever buys anything from it. Their family is Mormon. They're survivalists (her Dad is, so their family is). They don't live entirely off the grid but one imagines they wish they could. She comes of age in the 1980's-1990's but with the way the book opens, it might as well have been the 1930's. It is shocking that she is in "Annie" or uses the internet or hears about 9/11. She is unfamiliar with the term Holocaust.    

Her mother is a midwife, and an amateur herbalist and tincturist. Her father owns a junkyard and makes all of their kids work on it. Tara is the youngest in the family. She has no birth certificate, and age is something of an afterthought, particularly as she announces her intentions to go to college, and her parents ask her to move out:

"Something broke in me, a dam or a levee.  I felt tossed about, unable to hold myself in place. I screamed but the screams were strangled; I was drowning. I had nowhere to go.  I couldn't afford to rent an apartment, and even if I could the only apartments for rent were in town.  Then I'd need a car.  I had only eight hundred dollars. I sputtered all this at Mother, then ran to my room and slammed the door.

She knocked moments later. 'I know you think we're being unfair,' she said, 'but when I was your age I was living on my own, getting ready to marry your father.'

'You were married at sixteen?' I said.

'Don't be silly,' she said, 'You are not sixteen.'

I stared at her. She stared at me.  'Yes, I am.  I'm sixteen.' 

She looked me over.  'You're at least twenty.' She cocked her head.  'Aren't you?'

We were silent.  My heart pounded in my my chest.  'I turned sixteen in September,' I said.

'Oh.' Mother bit her lip, then she stood and smiled.  'Well, don't worry about it then.  You can stay.  Don't know what your dad was thinking, really. I guess we forgot.  Hard to keep track of how old you kids are.'" (137)

At this point I'm compelled to mention a couple weird things about this book. The first is the note near the beginning on pseudonyms. A few times when a character was introduced, I flipped back to see if it was one of the pseudonymous characters or not.  Notably her mom is one of them.  I don't understand why one would call some people by their name and some by a name to protect their identity. Unless Westover is itself a pen name, it would probably not be that difficult to figure out who they were. I'd imagine this is because they didn't agree to becoming a character in her book. This is one of the things about memoirs that always intrigues me. Do you have to give the manuscript to everyone that gets mentioned in order to secure their permission? What is the purpose behind using some real names and some fake ones? My hope would be that the pseudonyms given are chosen by the subjects themselves. More likely, they declined to read the manuscript in the first place, and Westover decided to change their name of respect for their preference to remain anonymous.

The other weird thing is when she paraphrases specific sentences in e-mails or letters in italics. Every time, there is an asterisk. And the asterisk always reads that, while the words are not exactly the ones used, the meaning has been preserved. Now really, who saves everything and expects people to be able to quote the exact words used every time? Perhaps this is an odd outgrowth of Westover's Ph.D. research and writing, a lamentation for her inability to describe every event in excruciatingly accurate detail. Asterisks are similarly employed to supplant Westover's memory with those of her siblings and others that experienced the same event. These are generally more comprehensible and serve to explore a major theme of all memoirs--the reliability of memory. 

Unfortunately I need to jump into murky waters to qualify that last sentence, because while I am sufficiently convinced that Westover is leaving as little to the imagination as possible, I am not convinced that she is printing the truth, rather than the legend. The "unfortunately" part is the comparison at least one person in the book club made to a similarly famous memoir from about ten years earlier that I never read that dealt with crack addiction, I believe, and something about painful dental procedures. Many of the things in that book were completely made up. Now we all know that truth is stranger than fiction, but from the way Westover describes some of the more gruesome accidents on the mountain, one could hardly believe they were as bad as she makes them out to be. They should all be dead. At the very least, her brother Shawn and her father are physically mangled beyond belief. Shawn suffers life-threatening injuries on at least three occasions, possibly four or five, one of which is a motorcycle accident:

"Dwain hefted Shawn onto his back.  For a second that contained an hour, I stared at my brother, watching the blood trickle out of his temple and dawn his right cheek, pouring over his ear and onto his white T-shirt.  His eyes were closed, his mouth open. The blood was oozing from a hole the size of a golf ball in his forehead.  It looked as though his temple had been dragged on the asphalt, scraping away skin, then bone.  I leaned close and peered inside the wound.  Something soft and spongy glistened back at me.  I slipped out of my jacket and pressed it to Shawn's head." (145)

Her mom, her brother Luke and Tara herself are also mangled very badly, but not quite to the point that death is a foregone conclusion. Maybe her mom fits between these two extremes on the death-defection-spectrum. In any case, while I don't doubt any of the events occurred, I doubt that Westover isn't following in the grand literary tradition of the oral historians 3,000 years hence. These people have turned into characters that have god-like abilities. Perhaps this is just what one develops through such an upbringing, an extreme hardiness, a sort of superhuman grit. It is no wonder, then, that she could achieve all she already has by her age. 

The real strength of this book comes in the form of its two most controversial figures: her father and Shawn. The way Westover writes about them is extremely touching. While her father puts her in ridiculously dangerous situations and casually subjugates her, her brother acts as a mentor, protector, and bully. Bully is really too weak of a word: monster might be more accurate. There really is no good word for what he is to her. She writes about him with love and fear, and unquestionably, their relationship is the heart of this story. 

Tara's 5 other siblings figure far less prominently in the narrative. After Shawn, they are probably featured most often in this order: Tyler, Audrey, Luke, Richard, and ??? Obviously Tyler is memorable. He lays out the path for Tara's escape, taking the ACT and moving out for college and eventually getting a Ph.D. He introduces her to non-hymnal music. The family can be broken down into those who stay with the family and those who break with the family. Audrey and Luke stay. Audrey backs up Shawn and their Dad, as does their Mom (though their Mom does have oddly conflicting views of western medicine, as she seems to acknowledge that her husband is bipolar). Luke does not seem to treat Tara as an enemy quite like Shawn and Audrey, however. Richard seems like Tyler Jr. I need to check on that last sibling....(It's Tony, the oldest, and I don't remember anything about him.)

In summation, Educated is about as good as you heard. It's worth reading. It won't make the Best Books list just because it's too popular. It doesn't need my seal of approval. It's probably a really great book for anyone that's stuck in a one-horse town, so to speak, that dreams of breaking out. Also a solid choice for high schoolers in general. As someone just a few years older than Westover, I appreciate the cultural reference points. I doubt that the book is 100% accurate, but I also doubt that any memoir can be 100% accurate. 

Up next: A Gentleman in Moscow... 

If These Walls Could Talk: Stories from the Chicago Cubs Dugout, Locker Room, and Press Box - Jon Greenberg (2019)

I reserved this book after hearing its author speak on the Cubs Talk Podcast. It sounded lurid. To be honest, most of the juiciest stories were told in the podcast (which can find here https://open.spotify.com/episode/7pfCYkIql6n3xLeNK04cd9?si=e_Gkg5UpSq2aEpU--PWM5A). Regardless, this is a book worth reading - but only if you are a serious fan.

Who are serious fans? People that try to watch every game. And if not the whole game, at least parts of it. 

What I particularly loved about it, as a fan going back into the early 90's, is the way it situates 2016--and really the past 15 years--into the greater historical context of the franchise. 

The further back it goes, the more memories it invokes. I haven't read a book like this before. There are so many iconic moments in a baseball season, and we forget so many because each year brings more. Of course there are some things that we will never forget, such as the end of the 2003 NLCS (just as there are things we'll always have, like Paris, which is where I watched those games).

But I think some people forget the '04 Cubs. They very nearly made the playoffs and finished with a respectable 90+ win season. They added Greg Maddux for his 300th victory celebration. They had Wood and Prior and Zambrano and Matt Clement was probably their Jose Quintana (though I haven't compared their stats - maybe Clement was better). Query which rotation was better.

Maddux was at the end of his career and no longer as effective--like Jon Lester in another year or two. Definitely take Lester over him.

Though Hendricks is the more apt comparison to Maddux, he could be matched to Prior, and I take Hendricks any day (Prior tried to make a comeback as late as this year; Zambrano currently is doing so, how serious he's taking it is another matter. How I wish they'd get another shot! But that does not seem to be the Theo way.) 

Darvish is actually probably more like Prior (even though no one is a free agent pick up like him), or Wood for having an excellent start to his career and an uncertain future after Tommy John/other injuries. I'm still willing to bet on Yu. I don't think any of us are fully convinced he's turned the corner but he has been much better in 2019 on the whole.

Cole Hamels I guess maybe is the Maddux, but so far he's been much better than Maddux ever was on stint #2. And yes Jose Quintana = Matt Clement. 

I won't go through all the hitters. I think 90% of fans will agree that the 2019 cubs are as likely to make it to the world series as the 2004 cubs. The 2005 Cubs, also, were not a joke. They were still in it at the end. 2006, however, was a joke.

That was the summer I lived down the street from the park, at 1516 w. Addison. I went to a lot of games that year and they lost every one, I think. Maybe I was bad luck. Who knows. Because somehow they came back to make the playoffs in '07 and '08. And they weren't that bad in '09 and not even that terrible in '10 I think. '11, '12, '13, and '14 were brutal, of course. And I find it crazy to see that Zambrano was on the team as late as he was, and how Wood came back for his victory lap to retire a Cub -- I vaguely remembered that, but I had forgotten. 

Interspersed in there are anecdotes and analyses of players like Ted Lilly, Ryan Dempster, Rich Hill, Milton Bradley, Derek Lee, Cliff Floyd, Daryle Ward, LaTroy Hawkins, Geovany Soto, Kenny Lofton, Aramis Ramirez, Kosuke Fukudome, Alfonso Soriano, Henry Blanco, Michael Barrett, Jim Edmonds, Rich Harden, Mark DeRosa, Nomar Garciaparra, Jeff Samarzdija, Randy Wells, Starlin Castro and others. Unfortunately, it misses the opportunity to reference Randall Simon and the sausage-race battery. And Zambrano's no-hitter apparently also didn't matter.

A real pleasure of this book is the way all the current Cubs crop are referenced much earlier in their lives. Such as Albert Almora, Jr. as a kid in Florida during the Marlins 2003 run. Or the improbable coincidence of Francisco Lindor and Javier Baez going from a high school-to-World Series rivalries. Or David Bote getting drafted even before Theo came onboard, and playing at the minor league level with almost every single player on the current MLB roster. 

The anecdotes in this book will enrich any fan's appreciation of the game. It's not exactly a biography of everyone--but it is pretty comprehensive at a little over 300 pages and a major emphasis on the 2015-Present Cubs. 

Because let's remember that Kris Bryant, Anthony Rizzo, Javier Baez, Willson Contreras, Kyle Schwarber, Jason Heyward, Albert Almora, Jr., Ben Zobrist, Addison Russell, Jon Lester, Kyle Hendricks, Pedro Strop (and maybe a couple others I'm forgetting), are all still on the team. Some have improved, some have declined, and others have been replaced. Dexter is gone, Jake is gone, Rossy is gone, Montgomery is gone (quite recently). [Ed. Carl Edwards, Jr., gone as of 7/31/19] A bunch of relief pitchers have been replaced. It's probably comparable to what we had before. Chapman got replaced by Davis who got replaced by Morrow who got replaced by Kimbrel. Right now it looks like Davis was arguably the best overall closer. Chapman was lights out, but pushed to the brink. Kimbrel concerns me. I've already seen him blow 2 or 3 games and he's only been playing a month or so. Still you can't criticize the deal they signed him to.

As to Chapman, another distinct pleasure of this book is reliving classic moments from games and Joe Maddon's WTF managerial decisions. Like leaving Chapman in forever. Or letting Strop bat in a crazy situation with the wild card berth on the line in 2018: 

"The Cubs won the game 4-3 in 10 innings, a much-needed victory. But while Pedro Strop got the win, giving up no runs in 1 2/3 innings, it was a play involving him that stirred up a lot of talk about Maddon's managing and the future of this team.

Strop replaced Brian Duensing with one out in the 8th inning and the game tied 3-3.  He made it through that inning and the 9th with just one hit allowed in 21 pitches.  

Then, in the 10th inning, with one out and the bases loaded and the Cubs up a run after a Javy Baez's [sic] RBI bunt single, Maddon let Strop hit.

He wasn't out of position players.  It was only the 10th inning.  Strop hit a grounder to third and busted it down the line to beat a double play.  He ran so hard he injured his hamstring.  This was bad managing - death by overthinking.

'That's so unfortunate,' Maddon said. 'If we scored, he was going back out.  If we don't score, he wasn't.  That was it.  And we scored.  But listen, he hit the ball hard.  This guy can swing the bat a little; that wasn't a fluke.  He tried to beat it out, almost did, and you can never fault an athlete for competing.'" (294-295) 

Other stories are provided deeper detail, such as the legend of Daniel Murphy on the Mets in '15 and the Nats in '17 and his '18 stint on the Cubs and the tacit acceptance of homophobia. Actually I never thought Murphy was homophobic, I just assumed he was deeply embedded in Christian theology and unable to veer from the path of the righteous. Greenberg's gloss on his comments is big-hearted and humane, yet sharp. We should not lump Zobrist in with Murphy solely on the basis of spirituality but there is a cutting reference to his walk-up music (a song by his wife--ostensibly about him--ripping off Elton John) and now one could make a dark joke about it. Zobrist has been out most of the season with a divorce, but is making his comeback as we write. One hopes that his return will spark the team in the same way Schwarber did in the World Series, another story beautifully told here.

And Brandon Morrow. Morrow is glossed over. His injury from putting on pants is hardly mined for laughs. His extended rehab is basically a long-running gag. However, he could be available late this year.

One notable omission is the suspension of Addison Russell. While the domestic violence charges are referenced briefly, the more lurid details are kept confidential. Perhaps some of the stories hadn't come up at press time, though his "robotic" press conference in spring training made it in under the wire. Russell is a complicated story to tell. He is given short shrift here, as he has generally this year. For all of his shortcomings as a player in recent years, and despite odious past behavior, I feel for the guy when nobody gives him the benefit of the doubt, when nobody believes that people can change. I doubted whether the Cubs were making the right decision not to release him, but ultimately I think the front office handled it about as humanely and professionally as practicable. It would be a nice story if Addison Russell turned it on 2015 Starlin Castro-style and became the player everyone thought he was.

So there are some storylines currently being written that are not quite as compelling as the overall scope of 2016, but still arguably more compelling than any other team's, except perhaps the Angels--the consensus emotional favorite to win the World Series due to player personnel and strength through adversity (like the 2002 Cardinals after the death of Darryl Kile, or the 2001 Yankees after 9/11). That is, however, an extremely unlikely scenario. It will probably be the Dodgers and the Astros again. I believe, however, that there will be another Cubs-Dodgers NLCS this year, and that anything is possible.

I doubted the hype around Theo for a long time, probably until the 2014-2015 off season. At this point I'll concede that, while every decision he's made hasn't been perfect, he is still the greatest executive in sports today, and one of the greatest in history. He will be remembered forever for the towering accomplishment of bringing titles to the two most legendary franchise droughts in sports history. It was twice with the Red Sox, so let's hope it's twice with the Cubs.