GANC: The Bell Jar

This is not the book I set out reading for December's challenge. I may revisit the one I set aside again, but it was a little too much for me given the length of the book and the time I had available to read. And yes, maybe I was being a little lazy, not trying hard enough to get into book X. Such is life and such is reading.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath was not all that I expected it to be. First off, complete shock on my part that I was able to go through at least two feminist-focused English classes and not even glance at this book. Second, knowing how Plath herself mimicked this book off chapters from her own life, I expected more angst and darkness given how she came to her own end.

Perhaps the most jarring thing about Esther Greenwood and her path to depression and thoughts of suicide was how easily I related to her. There she was, living an enviable summer internship in New York working at a magazine hundreds of girls long for, and she felt entirely out of place. She bought the clothes to fit in, had the right friends to fit in, a social calendar that placed her well to meet the well-to-do and attractive, and yet she felt she was just playing a part. Upon her return home, now without the distractions of the city, she could not quiet the thoughts that had been stirring about all summer. It seemed every place she went, she contemplated how to end her life there. After a failed suicide attempt, she stayed at an institution where it is never clear if Greenwood got better or found a new part to play in order to fit in.

I could not agree more with the introduction to my book: this is most definitely confessional literature. At times I felt like I was eavesdropping with no method of escape. And though it has been over a decade since I read it, I also agree with many who have drawn a string from J. D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye to The Bell Jar. They are in some ways twins, companion pieces.

I think the confessional aspect of this book is necessary to its success, but it is also what moves it a step or two away from being a top pick for the Great American novel. However, the fact that it is indulgent and has the feel of voyeurism shines a light all too bright on American culture presently. This book is all about Esther Greenwood and what people have done to her. And largely that is what America is right now - the constant whine of what people have done to me and how I deserve better, bigger, more, faster. So maybe that knocks it back up a peg or two toward Great American Novel. I think the question is whether Plath was being self-indulgent in writing this, or if she did have a larger message regarding American culture. If the former, this book is a closer relative to books such as The Devil Wears Prada or Sex and the City. If the latter, it fits right in with other great American novels.

Great American Novel Challenge Booklist:

July 2009: Absalom, Absalom! - William Faulkner, publ. 1936

August 2009: Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry, publ. 1985

September 2009: Moby Dick - Herman Melville, publ. 1851

October 2009: For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway, publ. 1940

November 2009: Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston, publ. 1937

Thanksgiving, Take 1

I hope that everyone had a restful and enjoyable Thanksgiving. This year was the first time I was away from home, so it was a little difficult at times without the family and familiar foods, but I think Aaron and I did pretty well on our own. Aside from Thanksgiving lunch, we played dominoes and Scrabble and watched some football, the marquee event was of course the Texas A&M vs. t.u. game, which was better than anticipated. As the saying goes, "We did not lose; the clock stopped before we could win."

Now on to what really matters - the food! I had started getting my things together for the meal way back in August. Okay, it was a total accident that happened, but a happy accident. I was wandering around the Farmer's Market and stopped to check out a table I had not seen before for free range chicken. Having recently finished The Omnivore's Dilemma, I thought it a good idea to see what all the fuss was about regarding free range meat. That meat sat happily in my freezer for two months at time forgotten and pushed aside. But Thanksgiving seemed the perfect time to bust it out. Having never roasted my own chicken, I consulted websites and my mom and arrived at a recipe that served us well. I rinsed the chicken out, which gloriously was devoid of its innards, and patted it dry. Salted and peppered inside and out liberally. Stuck a few chunks of celery in the cavity along with tabs of butter in there and a few on top and in the oven it went. Thanks to my handy dandy thermometer, I knew when to baste and when it was done. The chicken hung out on the counter until my other oven dish was completed.

Next up was another new dish, Old Fashioned Grated Sweet Potato Pudding, from Cookwise. This one made me nervous, especially since the previous day I heard that some sweet potatoes are hard and some soft. I knew I needed soft, but had no clue which I had gotten. I fear I used hard sweet potatoes because they were a little crunchy even after being grated into little rice-sized bits and baked for about an hour. And it did not turn out pudding-like, but more granular. Also, there was way too much ginger for my taste, though in eating leftovers the taste has either mellowed or I have grown accustomed to it. Something to try again, but with a few tweaks.

In order to not have a bottleneck at the oven Thursday, I made cornbread Wednesday. It is a recipe I have used a few times now and always with great results. In the past I have thrown some corn in it, but this time I went by the book and I think it is better sans corn kernels. Little butter on it and it is good to go.

We added a little salad to our plates and the feast was on! The chicken was undoubtedly the highlight of the meal. I did not quite get the feel that I will never eat regular chicken again... until I ate some of the dark meat. It was as if I were tasting chicken for the first time. Packed with incredible flavor that did not come from my salt, pepper and celery. Wow. Two thumbs way up for that.

After lunch, Aaron and I played games, Aaron winning all of them despite a few rematches. Soon, it was time for dinner - but what about dessert? Well, we did dessert for dinner, which I think is an excellent way to gorge on the lunch and still have room to gorge on dessert. Aaron and I struck a compromise on this since I do not like pumpkin pie and Aaron detests anything lemon, hence no lemon meringue for me. Apple dumplings with vanilla bean ice cream. The apples erupted a bit from their puff pastry housing, but it all tasted good. The ice cream tasted close to the homemade vanilla bean I have made in the past, too. All in all very yummy.

Oh! I almost forgot about my mulled cider. I cannot remember if my mom would make a batch of apple cider every year, but it was often enough for me to pine for it once fall came around. I thought if I made it one day on my own, I would be wasting a batch of perfectly good cider by myself. Sure, Aaron is only one more person, but my longing was so deep at this point one more person was all the excuse I needed. And then Aaron did not have any of it, while I think I drank half the pot on Thanksgiving alone. Warm, a little spicy, not cloyingly sweet, and the oranges added a great citrus note. This recipe is a great starting point for updates and additions to the pot next go round. In fact, I may go get a cup right now.

I hope all of you had a great time with family and friends, and I would like to say how thankful I am that you not only read my little corner of the blogosphere, but you are beautiful friends outside of it. Even though you were not at my Thanksgiving, you were thought of and are cherished.