Review: Middlesex

Some time ago I vowed to read all the unread books on my bookshelf before buying any others.  Amazingly, this seems to be the one self-inflicted principle of discipline I've been able to stick to for more than a few days.  Then again, if all the unread books on my shelf were as good as Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, I'd probably be wrong to call it discipline in the first place.  This is without a doubt the best book I have read in a long, long time.  The only possible contenders that come to mind over the past two years are Unless and The Heart is a Lonely Hunter.  While both are beautiful, eloquent, almost genius novels, however, Middlesex manages to be all those things AND incredibly addictive - a wonderfully rare combination in contemporary fiction, if you ask me.

Middlesex tells the story of Calliope Stephanides, a hermaphrodite who is raised a girl and remains essentially unaware of her unusual genitalia (and, more generally, 'her' male identity) until she reaches puberty.  The story is narrated by Cal, the intelligent, relatively well-adjusted man Calliope grows into.   As he puts it at one point in the novel, "hermaphrodites are people too" - people with families, jobs, and lost loves.  Thus in order to understand who he is, readers must first understand where he came from.  Eugenides does an amazing job of creating Calliope/Cal's character in such a way that readers (or at least this reader) see his status as a hermaphrodite as only part of who he is.  Cal's dual genitalia is not solely and immediately gross or freakish, so much as it is his personal burden - his version of that thing everyone bears in his or her own way.  

Middlesex is also a story about family history and DNA.  More specifically, it explores the tension between preordained fate and self-determination.  How much are we the products of our parents, grandparents, etc, both genetically and culturally?  Can this ever be truly at odds with or different from the lives we choose for ourselves?  Does Cal really choose to live as a man, or was the choice made for him generations ago in a small village in Greece?  I adore novels that can raise questions such as these without sounding self-righteous and preachy.  Middlesex does so beautifully.

Some Thoughts on the Oscars

People always think I'm joking or exaggerating when I say that Oscar night is my favourite night of the year.  I'm not, though, I swear.  I wanted to write this post Sunday night after the show, but soon realized keeping my eyes open long enough for the best picture announcement was not going to be an easy feat.  It's not that I was bored (of COURSE not!).  It's just that my body is finally getting used to the concept of getting up at 7am every morning - which I think is a positive development.  Here are my opinions on the evening, with pictures!!! (By the way, I took these pictures from the NYT.  I think this might be illegal.  Or maybe not, since I'm not making a profit from them.  Anyway, please don't sue me!).

1)  Hugh Jackman:  When I first heard Hugh Jackman was hosting the Oscars, I was like, WTF??!!  Isn't that Wolverine/the sexiest man alive?  I thought it was written in stone somewhere that the ceremony had to be hosted by a some sort of comedian.  I must say, though, that I thought he did quite well as host.  I especially enjoyed the opening number featuring tribudies (you know, tribute + parody) of nominated films.

2.  Slumdog Millionaire:  This is a beautiful film, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching it.  But did it really deserve to win best picture?  I can think of at least seven or eight better 2008 movies.  The story is a little cheeseball in my opinion.

3.  Acting Award Presentations:  Don't hate me, but I liked the new format.  In particular, Robert DeNiro's heart-felt tribute to Sean Penn was quite moving.  I also liked how they finally clued into the fact that people care more about acting than directing, and announced best director before lead actor and actress.

4.  Sean Penn:  I was so happy when Sean Penn won for Milk.  If you haven't seen the movie, I suggest you do so as soon as possible.  Josh Brolin and James Franco are also fantastic in the film.  

5.  Kate Winslet:  I haven't seen The Reader, but was happy to see Kate finally win a long-deserved oscar.  That's saying a lot, too, considering how much I wanted Anne Hatheway to win.  I just really, really like her.  I like to think we could be friends (if we ever met, which is unlikely, I know...sigh...).

6.  Finally, a note on fashion:  What was with all the white and off white?  The red carpet this year reminded me of the walls in my parents' house.  Not that I have a problem with any of these dresses, really (well, except for Jessica Biel's and possibly Mylie Cyrus').  

I'm Really Not This Cynical...

Why is it that whenever I see an advertisement for this movie I feel like vomiting?  Oh I've read the books, believe me.  Couldn't put them down.  Before I discovered the Confessions of a Shopaholic series, I never fully understood the conflicting wonders of masochism.  I'm all for living vicariously through the charmed lives of literary protagonists.  Hell, I'm even for chick lit and Cinderella stories in all forms (I know I sometimes talk like a bra-burning feminist but at heart I'm a hopeless romantic who secretly dreams in vain of motherhood).  

There is without a doubt an addictive quality to the books.  The reader gets so that she HAS TO KNOW how Becky gets out of this or that mess, and so she keeps reading day and night until the book is finished.  However, am I the only one who noticed that nothing truly bad EVER happens to Becky?  I mean, I could deal with the Luke Brandon romance; I can handle Luke being extremely wealthy and he being the perfect match for her because he can buy her all the designer shit she could possibly dream of.  I can handle that she has the cutest little family imaginable and an extremely supportive group of friends.  I can even handle that among her biggest problems are having to sell all her designer shit to pay off her debt, and having to decide whether she wants a society wedding at the Plaza or a sentimental wedding in the English countryside.  But why does she also get to move to Manhattan and have an absolutely perfect series of careers?  I mean come ON.  Her first (and supposedly "worst") job was writing for a magazine.  At age 25, for Christ's sake.  I would literally chop off my right hand if it meant I could have a semi-interesting job.  In fact, I would chop off BOTH HANDS if it meant someone would pay me to write.

Cinderella is likable because she does literally go from rags to riches - the happiness she experiences at the end of the story is directly proportional to the misery she suffers at the beginning.  Becky, on the other hand, already has a charmed life.  She needs addiction counseling, not a prince.  The overall level of happiness she experiences in life is more gag reflex-inducing than inspirational.

Recipe: Goat Cheese Stuffed Chicken Breasts

It dawned on me the other day that some of my favourite blogs (such as this one) are those that feature recipes.  I'll be honest and admit that I rarely actually make these recipes.  Mostly I just enjoy staring at the pictures and/or dish name and/or ingredient list.  Anyway, it seems fitting that I should occasionally include recipes in my own blog - so you too can dream of how the food you could make might taste.  Or actually try making it.  Whatever works for you.

If you've ever been over to our place for dinner, there's a good chance you've eaten this title dish.  It just so happens we made it last night when we hosted a dinner party, so I suppose I have goat cheese stuffed chicken on the brain.  Overall it's a pretty "safe" option, as I'm pretty sure everyone who eats meat eats chicken.  It's also incredibly tasty without being heavy like pasta or controversial like fish.  The original recipe was taken from the Williams & Sonoma Bride and Groom cookbook (received as a wedding gift over two and a half years ago....scary).  Anyway, for a party of four you will need:

- 4 boneless skinless chicken breasts

- 4 slices prosciutto 

- 1 package goat cheese

- 8-12 sage leaves

- 3 large eggs

- 1 cereal bowl full of bread crumbs

- 1 cereal bowl full of flour

- salt and pepper

- extra virgin olive oil

Rub chicken breasts with salt and pepper.

Carefully slit the chicken breasts (down the thickest side), making a small "hole" big enough to fit 2-3 sage leaves, 1 slice of prosciutto, and however much goat cheese you can stuff inside.  

Stuff said ingredients inside chicken breasts (prosciutto first, followed by the sage, and finally the goat cheese).

Assemble 3 cereal bowls full of flour, whisked eggs, and bread crumbs.  Coat chicken breasts with flour, then egg, then bread crumbs (order is essential) by dipping them in the bowls.

Heat 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan.  Cook chicken breasts in frying pan.  Be careful not to overcook (seriously, it ruins the taste).

Usually we serve the chicken with some version of potatoes.  Roasted parisian with olive oil and rosemary are my favourite, but alas they don't seem to sell parisian potatoes in Kingston.  Last night we served it with mashed potatoes and Greek salad.

25 Random Things About Me

Due to yet another week of illness and its accompanied lethargy, I find myself at a loss for substantial things to write about.  Thus you will have the (mis?)fortune of reading my version of the famous "25 random things about me" that's been making its way around Facebook lately.

1.   I am always cold and hate the winter.  In the summer, my hatred is transferred to air conditioning and people who crank it up unnecessarily.  Yes, I am aware that I am living in the wrong country.

2.  I am addicted to http://goop.com/.  

3.  I love yoga and Eastern philosophy.

4.  I prefer fiction to reality.  So much so that I often get the two mixed up.

5.  I love traveling, but also returning home after trips.

6.  I have the sweetest, kindest husband in the whole world.

7.  Sometimes I worry that my fair share of luck in life was used up when I met and married said husband.  I fear that I will never have a good job let alone an interesting career.

8.  My favourite place in the world is my grandparents' cottage on Howe Island.  Soon it will be sold and the idea of not being able to go there anymore breaks my heart.

9.  My musical tastes were heavily influenced by my father and grandfather.  I love everything from classic rock to old style jazz.

10.  I love baking cookies and desserts, but rarely ever do so because I find it difficult to refrain from eating copious amounts of batter during the baking process.  By the time the thing is actually made, I usually feel too stuffed ad guilty to have some of the finished product.

11.  I miss school so much it hurts.

12.  After a few years, my mind has a tendency to block out anything bad that happened during a particular period of my life.  After much contemplation, I've decided this is a good thing.

13.  I love wine.  If Steve and I open a bottle, we usually end up drinking the entire thing in an evening.

14.  Movies are like therapy to me.  I own over 200 DVDs, at least 10 of which I watch every couple months.

15.  I love the no-hard-feelings debate variety of argument, but hate malicious gossip and petty bullshit.

16.  I have tried to become a vegetarian and go on detox cleanses more times than I care to admit.  None of these attempts lasted more than a few days.

17.  I can't get enough gangster movies and Grand Theft Auto.

18.  I have a love-hate relationship with sleep.  I know I need it, but there's just not enough hours in the day.

19.  The only TV shows I watch regularly are on early in the morning or late at night (Canada AM, The Daily Show, The Colbert Report).

20.  From mid-February until around May, I check the local forecast on The Weather Network approximately 30 times per day.

21.  I hate drinking plain tap water, and always need at least a wedge of lemon or lime to go with it.

22.  If give $1000, I would spend it all on 1 luxury item over 20 more practical purchases.

23.  One of my biggest pet peeves is bragging (overt and subtle).  If you tell me how great you are, all I'll know is that you want me to thing you're great.  It says nothing about your true capacity for greatness.

24.  I'm not a morning person.  Even though I get up at 6:30, I'm never actually "awake" until around 9.

25.  My favourite time of day is when I take my dog Stella for a walk (unless it's freezing cold out).  It always involves either good music or good company, and is a great way to follow up supper and/or end the evening.