|
|
2.0 out of 5 stars
A Not-So-Tasty Organic Stew, Jun 24 2004
By A Customer
I have no problem with Barbara Kingsolver stating her political views, although I was surprised to discover that this is basically what these essays are. I admire the courage of her convictions and am happy to learn ways in which I might think of slower, kinder, more gentle times.That said, however, some of this was kind of hard to swallow from a woman who maintains two homes, jets all over the world, and gardens because she chooses to, not because she has to. I have a major philosophical disconnect with an environmentalist who writes books that kill trees and who lives in Tucson, where surely they must have to irrigate to do all this local gardening, but I am a big fan of ironies. I also have a hard time accepting a series of essays that seems to capitalize on the events on 9-11 in a personal way. In one of her essays, Kingsolver describes how she calmed a number of teachers who, silly geese, were nervous at coming to work the day after the Columbine shootings. She points out how they are no more likely to die than any other day and they are comforted. Isn't it special that she was there to do that? Yet she writes several times about how *deeply* the events of 9-11 affected her, even though she doesn't live anywhere near the affected areas, lost no one, and has no television. Why are her feelings so profound while others are so shallow? A lot of her essays seem to focus on ways in which she shuts herself off from negative feelings and images (I happen to agree with her about television, and about a number of other issues), but then she chooses to inject herself into 9-11 and become one of us, so to speak. There's a nasty whiff of commercialism about this book, again ironic in a collection that speaks so eloquently about the soul-destroying aspects of rampant consumerism. I also found myself genuinely confused about her food and trade issues. If I buy food from other parts of the world, is that a Good Thing or a Bad Thing? If I support the multinational corporations, it's a Bad Thing, but may I still have my oatmeal from Ireland and my olive oil from Italy? Is that trade in a humane way, or just another American buying things she doesn't need? I really don't know. She points out that a lot of food travels great distances to reach us, but people have always sought goods and food from other lands. In a non-hostile manner, it strikes me as one of the ways we learn to respect each other's differences, but Kingsolver really doesn't delve into this. She does speak out against the overbearing tendencies of the big corporations, and I agree with her, but she never gets into the cottage industries in Third World countries that may be selling goods to support their families. Speaking of big corporations -- and I am in a spoiler mood today -- the main reason the United States was attacked, according to her, was global warming. If she mentions global warming once, she does it a dozen times. Well, global warming *is* a serious problem, but maybe our policies in the Middle East, religious fanaticism, and bad foreign policy in general just might have had a little to do with it, but what do I know? And a final, personal quibble: is it not possible for a Southern woman to refrain from interjecting comments about doing things certain ways because she's a Southerner? She mentions that she's from the South and therefore is just not capable of greeting visitors without doing a little tidying. I suppose that's meant to be a little self-deprecating humor, but really, it's hostile and rude. The clear implication is that *other* folks just lie there in their underwear flinging trash onto the rug. Surprise, Barbara: people who are not special enough to be Southerners actually pick up their living rooms and invite people to dinner. This is not some special Southern thing, even if that's what you were taught.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you?
|
|
|
|