Rutabaga's Reads 2022: Part 20

Don’t be deceived. The only reason I have two nonfiction compilation posts in the same year is because I did not post one last year. So don’t suddenly think, “Oh! She’s read more nonfiction than usual this year!”

Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World (Sept. 24, 2008) by Vicki Myron.

   With Bret Witter.

On the coldest night in January 1988 in Spencer, Iowa, someone dropped an approximately eight-week-old kitten in Spencer Public Library’s drop box. Tiny and weak with frostbitten paws, the little kitten found comfort with library director, Vicki Myron, right away. He won her over and soon won the staff over. It was a group effort that named him Dewey Readmore Books. Along with the library staff, Dewey won over many of the patrons, too, which snowballed into recognition around the state, the country and other parts of the world! From the pickiest Fancy Feast eater to his Buddha pose to claiming every box (no matter what part of him fit) to greeting patrons to attending meetings and Story Hour, Dewey was extremely dedicated to his role as Library Cat. Of course, he didn’t get paid in dollars, but in pets and lap naps.

            Despite his cat self, Dewey did have humility (for a cat), and he took it in turns to be enthusiastic and thoughtful (/lazy). Dewey seemed to have a sixth sense about those who needed him the most, like when Vicki had her breast cancer scare or when he spent two hours with a woman for seemingly no reason, but it turned out that that woman had just had to put her aged cat to sleep. Dewey wasn’t only a library cat, but a friend.

            Dewey passed away in November 2006 at the age of 19 (or very close to). His start was bleak, but his life was anything but. This story made me laugh, but it also made me cry. Dewey knew the power of relationships, but he was also a cat, so sometimes he just wanted to play with his red ball of yarn or peer down upon you from the light fixtures. I love cats, and I live less than two-and-a-half hours away from this library, so it astounds me that I didn’t know this story. It’s good for the soul. It’s for cat lovers, book lovers and anyone who knows small, Midwestern towns. That said, I believe the junior version of the novel is much more Dewey-centric. This full-length novel that I checked out through ILL had a lot about Vicki’s life and the town of Spencer, including some of its history, which wasn’t necessary and didn’t propel the story forward.

Know My Name (Sept. 24, 2019) by Chanel Miller.

Imagine being known as Emily Doe, a young woman who was sexually assaulted - and originally thought to have been raped - by a Stanford swim team standout. Chanel Miller doesn’t have to imagine it; she was that woman. She tells her story in graphic detail and doesn’t back down from the grueling, harrowing and oppressive trial process, one that seems to protect the perpetrators and defame the victims when they’re already at their most vulnerable. (Quotes: “My pain was never more valuable than his potential.” – Chanel, p. 241; “For Brock, his goal was to integrate, for me it was to isolate.” – Chanel regarding the defense attorney, p. 271) The defendant received empathy where Miller did not. Miller doesn’t pretend to be the most courageous person and shares the insecurities brought on by the shame and isolation she felt, including the ugliness she’d project toward those who love her (such as viciously screaming at her boyfriend). It shouldn’t need to be focused on, but Miller also includes being a person of mixed-race and being bothered when she’s only assumed to be one race, like when the female probation officer, under victim’s race, checked only White (she is Chinese and Caucasian). The book finishes up with her victim impact statement, which was originally published on Buzzfeed and from there went viral (11 million views in four days). There are a lot of lows in the book, yet it also shines with courage, radiates strength and exemplifies the power of words.

            Not only as a woman, but as a human being, I am mortified by what Chanel went through and probably continues to work through to this day. I’m incredibly angry with and disgusted by the behavior of Brock Turner, though I also don’t understand why any person would want to drink to the point of blacking out or just be drunk in general.

            Anyone who’s read this story or tried to read it has an opinion, me included. I can’t imagine the fortitude it took for Chanel to put the story out there. She has her flaws, as we all do, but she’s gutsy and strong. She has suffered, but she has prevailed. She has screamed and had fits and ugly-cried, but she’s also fought through blood, sweat and tears up a steep mountain and showed the world that she’s a survivor. It was hard to read, because it’s a painful, upsetting journey, but that’s what also made it such a dazzling memoir. Chanel won’t be diminished, and none of us should either, for any reason. Her story isn’t one of revenge, but of reclamation.

            P.S. How do you choose books to buy and/or read? In the case of “Know My Name,” I happened to see part of the cover in a Christmas photo card that had been sent to my parents by a former pastor and her husband.

A Very Punchable Face (July 14, 2020) by Colin Jost.

Oh, to have a face that inspires Czech teenagers to attack you with potato salad. Apparently, Colin Jost (of SNL notoriety) has such a face. He also, apparently, has a very punchable face, and his story showcases that he can take a punch, both literally and metaphorically. Here’s a guy who grew up in a family of firefighters on Staten Island, commuted three hours daily to high school, happened to attend Harvard and wound up a comedian. Readers won’t only learn that Jost has a punchable face or that Czech teens once attacked him with potato salad. Readers will also learn how Jimmy Buffett saved his life (with a knife), of an incident where an insect once laid eggs inside his leg (gross) and be treated to the poop chapter (also gross, but supremely hilarious). There are behind-the-scenes stories at SNL and Weekend Update. There’s experiencing the life of a touring stand-up comedian through Jost’s words - from performing in rural college cafeterias to opening for a big name at Radio City Music Hall. There are accomplishments (like hosting the Emmys) and setbacks (like hosting the Emmys). There is no shortage of absurdity and hilarity, but there’s an especially candid and emotional account in the chapter recounting his mom’s experience on 9/11.

            Honestly, I’m not an avid watcher of SNL, past or present, but I’ve watched enough to know that Colin Jost is (was?) a head writer and co-anchors Weekend Update with Michael Che, and I gravitate toward comedic memoirs when I read memoirs. This one did not disappoint! I’m actually surprised by how much I laughed, which might seem odd for a memoir written by a comedian, but too often I’ve not found memoirs by comedians to be very funny. I laughed so hard that I cried when I read the poop chapter, and I’m not normally one for potty/defecation humor. The chapter that most impresses me is the one focused on his mom, one in a long line of firefighters in the family (she’s Dr. Kerry Kelly, and she was chief medical officer for the NYC FD for 24 years. She was the first woman to serve as chief medical officer and the first female doctor to ever join the FDNY). Jost shares his memoir with a healthy dose of self-deprecation. I’ve already mentioned the humor based on how much I laughed, but this is a book that also has lots of heart. It’s written well, and Jost’s candor and wit make it a fast read.