Girls of Riyadh by Rajaa AlSanea
“Have you read Girls of Riyadh?” my friend asked me on the phone, and when I said I had not, she said she would bring it to me.
“It’s an easy read” she said, “it will take you an afternoon.”
Sometimes life intruded. It took me a little longer. I had expected this to be lightweight, along the lines of the shopaholic books, read ’em and forget ’em. Airport reading, stuff you save to read when you know you will have time to kill.
I was surprised. I guess I had gotten the impression it was lightweight because I had seen it discussed on some of the blogs, and there are some light-hearted moments in the book. The four young women are well drawn, and their experiences are handled with sensitivity. She never reveals which character from the book she is, but I have my suspicions. 🙂
Each girl has her own unique experiences as she reaches young womanhood, and mating. Although the experiences are treated deftly, there is a serious undercurrent that belies the light tone. The underlying circumstances surrounding the mating rituals in a country so tradition-bound as Saudi Arabia turn mating into a dark ritual, full of unseen pits and minefields.
The very worst fear during these years is the wagging tongues of others. I have heard this theme over and over in my own dealings with young women in this part of the world.
“You know, khalto, a woman’s reputation is like glass, it is easily shattered,” explained my young-woman Qatteri friend, solemnly.
(for my Western readers, Khalto means ‘aunt’ literally, and is a term used respectfully for family friends, meaning ‘sister of my mother’)
“I don’t want to get married,” she continued, “They come for you as a bride and they are so nice and they make you feel so in love with them, but then, when you are married, they change. Men are . . . men are . . ”
“Dogs?” I asked.
“Yes! Yes!,” she exclaimed, “Dogs!” (pause)
“How did you know, Khalto?”
LLLLOOOOLLLLLLLLLL! It’s one of those moments when you know we are all more alike than we are different.
Girls of Riyadh is a worthy read. It is thought-provoking, and compassion-provoking. You grow to love these girls, and you hope a happy ending for them.
Holiday Inn Express, Seattle-Tacoma Airport
AdventureMan and I are what we call “Michelin Red R” people. When we were younger, living in Europe courtesy of Uncle Sam, every now and then – not often enough – AdventureMan would take some leave and we would go off adventuring, all over, but our greatest love was traveling in France.
We always had the latest Michelin, but through the years, we discovered that the fanciest places were not the places we liked the best. We would save up and go to a multiple-starred restaurant, order their speciality, and discover that the food was so rich, even with the small portions, even a three course meal would have us awake in the middle of the night, busy digesting the richness of the food.
We discovered, by trial and error, the Michelin red R, which stands for good local food at reasonable prices. Most of these places, you could order a la carte, and while the food remained rich, we found we could enjoy it more eating less of it.
There was also a red R equivalent in the hotels and inns section, but I think maybe it was a red rocking chair. It’s been a while since we’ve made a big trip into France . . .
The Holiday Inn Express at the Seattle Tacoma Airport is a red R in my book. I actually have free nights available at a higher priced chain, but we stayed there on our last long trip, and while the surroundings were luxurious, we found we felt crowded, we like more space and we like NOT to have features we really don’t care about. The rooms were actually about the same size as the one I am staying in, but over-furnished, over-stuffed, crowded.
For being by the airport, it was very very quiet. The shuttle picked me up at the airport almost immediately, they had my room and keys all prepared and waiting for me, it was about the fastest I have ever been checked in.
They are refurbishing the hotel and I like it. I got a new room, with serene furnishings, and all the furnishings I need without too many furnishings. I even had my choice of soft or firm pillows – right in the room. The bathroom was about 6 feet by 10 feet, and had a BIG feel, with terrazzo floors and one of those outward swooping shower curtains.
This is VERY handy, especially if you are tired and don’t want to go out looking for a place to eat, and especially if you are a female traveling alone. I ordered miso soup and salmon teriyaki and had it in under an hour, delivered to my door. There were a huge variety of restaurants to choose from. Wooo HOOO.
I like a room to have a clock I can see in the middle of the night, with an alarm:
I would prefer wi-fi, which is available in the lobby, but they provide a cable in the room, so I have no complaints:
My own little coffee maker, my own little refrigerator, and a little sink and microwave. In the closet is also an ironing board and iron. Yes, it matters to me.
Nice:
And didn’t we just read that metal showerheads gather less bacteria than plastic ones?
Just the right toiletries, not too much, not too little, and a hairdryer. I know it is becoming standard, but even in the nicest hotels sometimes you can get a surprise, and – sometimes they don’t work!
And, just in case there is something missing, they provide it – complimentary – at the desk. I like the graciousness of that.
Sudan Journalist Escapes Flogging, Chooses Jail
This spunky journalist has chosen to go to jail in the Sudan instead of paying the fine. Her lawyer is aghast, but Lubna Hussein says it will give her material to do a series on Sudanese jails, LOL! The judge had the option of sentencing her to flogging, but, wisely, abstained. You can read the entire story on AOL News
This is a follow up to an earlier story Whip Me if you Dare
Journalist Escapes Flogging in Sudan
By MOHAMED OSMAN and SARAH EL DEEB, AP
KHARTOUM, Sudan (Sept. 7) – A Sudanese judge convicted a woman journalist on Monday for violating the public indecency law by wearing trousers outdoors and fined her $200, but did not impose a feared flogging penalty.
Lubna Hussein was among 13 women arrested July 3 in a raid by the public order police in Khartoum. Ten of the women were fined and flogged two days later. But Hussein and two others decided to go to trial.
The female journalist on trial in Sudan for wearing trousers in public was convicted Monday for violating the country’s indecency law. A judge ruled that Lubna Hussein, seen above outside the courthouse after the verdict in Khartoum, will not be flogged, but must pay a $200 fine. The case has made headlines around the world.
“I will not pay a penny,” she told the Associated Press while still in court custody, wearing the same trousers that had sparked her arrest.
Hussein said Friday she would rather go to jail than pay any fine, out of protest of the nation’s strict laws on women’s dress.
“I won’t pay, as a matter of principle,” she said. “I would spend a month in jail. It is a chance to explore the conditions in jail.”
The case has made headlines in Sudan and around the world and Hussein used it to rally world opinion against the country’s morality laws based on a strict interpretation of Islam.
Galal al-Sayed, Hussein’s lawyer, said he advised her to pay the fine before appealing the decision. She refused, he said, “She insisted.”
The lawyer said the judge ignored his request to present defense witnesses.
“The ruling is incorrect,” he said, adding that the prosecution witnesses gave contradictory statements.
Al-Sayed said the judge had the option of choosing flogging, but apparently opted for fine to avoid international criticism. “There is a general sentiment in the world that flogging is humiliating.”
Ahead of the trial, police rounded up dozens of female demonstrators, many of them wearing trousers, outside the courtroom.
The London-based Amnesty International on Friday called on the Sudanese government to withdraw the charges against Hussein and repeal the law which justifies “abhorrent” penalties.
Human rights and political groups in Sudan say the law is in violation of the 2005 constitution drafted after a peace deal ended two decades of war between the predominantly Muslim north and the Christian and animist south Sudan.
The Amnesty statement said Sudan had been urged to amend the law which permits flogging, on the grounds that it is state-sanctioned torture, after eight women were flogged in public in 2003 with plastic and metal whips leaving permanent scars on the women. The women had been picnicking with male friends.
Myths about Contraception
Sometimes news articles are unintentionally humorous. I couldn’t help it – this statement:
Dr Annie Evans, Women’s Health Specialist at the Bristol Sexual Health Centre, said: “It is not surprising, given that Britain continues to have the highest unintended pregnancy rate in Europe.”
had me totally giggling. If you thought chicken skin would prevent contraception, you might have an unintended pregnancy, too! Hilarious. I thought as time passed, people would know more and more about these things. How can so many people NOT know?
Contraception myths ‘widespread’
By Sudeep Chand
Health reporter, BBC News
A UK survey has revealed that myths about contraception may be widespread.
One in five women said they had heard of kitchen items, including bread, cling film and even chicken skin, being used as alternative barrier methods.
Others had heard food items such as kebabs, Coca-cola or crisps could be used as oral contraceptives.
The survey questioned 1,000 women aged 18 to 50 and was carried out by market research company Opinion Health, sponsored by Bayer Schering Pharma.
Contraceptive myths have been around for thousands of years.
Ancient methods have varied from crocodile dung and honey before sex, to sea sponges and beeswax after.
Perhaps the most intoxicating was alcohol made from stewed beaver’s testicles.
However, it seems that a variety of unsafe and unproven methods might still exist in modern Britain.
Dr Annie Evans, Women’s Health Specialist at the Bristol Sexual Health Centre, said: “It is not surprising, given that Britain continues to have the highest unintended pregnancy rate in Europe.”
Other myths surround the use of oral contraceptive pills. One in 10 of the women questioned believed that it always takes a number of years to regain fertility after discontinuation of the pill. Others believed that the pill could protect them against HIV.
Professor Steve Field, Chairman of the Royal College of General Practitioners, commented: “This is alarming but not surprising.
“I’ve had complications with patients over the years that have concerned me.
“The more we can put appropriate information to the public about the availability of different methods of contraception, about their advantages and disadvantages, the better.
“It is important that access to advice is made as easily as possible for all ages.”
Joke for Women
A sixteen year-old boy came home with a new Chevrolet Avalanche and his
parents began to yell and scream, ‘Where did you get that truck???!!!’
He calmly told them, ‘I bought it today.’
‘With what money?’ demanded his parents. They knew what a Chevrolet
Avalanche cost.
‘Well,’ said the boy, ‘this one cost me just fifteen dollars.’ So the
parents began to yell even louder. ‘Who would sell a truck like that for
fifteen dollars?’ they said.
‘It was the lady up the street,’ said the boy. I don’t know her name –
they just moved in. She saw me ride past on my bike and asked me if I
wanted to buy a Chevrolet Avalanche for fifteen dollars.’
‘Oh my Goodness!,’ moaned the mother, ‘she must be a child abuser. Who knows
what she will do next? John, you go right up there and see what’s going
on.’ So the boy’s father walked up the street to the house where the lady
lived and found her out in the yard calmly planting petunias!
He introduced himself as the father of the boy to whom she had sold a new
Chevrolet Avalanche for fifteen dollars and demanded to know why she did it.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘this morning I got a phone call from my husband.. (I
thought he was on a business trip, but learned from a friend he had run off
to Hawaii with his mistress and really doesn’t intend to come back)
He claimed he was stranded and needed cash, and asked me to sell his new
Chevrolet Avalanche and send him the money.
So I did.’
(Are women good or what?)
Casper’s A Taste of the South
We had decided on one restaurant, an Italian restaurant we both like, and were on our way, when Mom thought of another restaurant we might like to try, but it was on the way, so we could look at it and decide whether we wanted to eat there or go on to the Italian one.
This is very normal for our family. Our son used to call it “bait and switch” because we would say “Hey! Do you want to go to Tortilla Gonzales?” and he would say “Yeah!” and we would all jump in the car and then on the causeway, AdventureMan would say “You know I really have a taste for Chinese . . . would anyone prefer Chinese?” and I would jump in and say “We’re really close to that sushi place we all love!” and then our son would have to rein us in “NO! You said we were going to Tortilla Gonzales!”
Once he went away to college, we switched all the time. Later, we learned that now he and his wife do the old switch-a-roo, too – family culture is a hard thing to shake.
So we are en route and Mom suddenly shouts “RIBS!” and I say “What??” and she said “We just passed a rib place!” We were at a stop light. “Mom,” I asked, “Do you want to go to that rib place?”
Silence.
Silence.
I pull into the U-turn lane and complain “You’ve got to start dealing with me directly; if you want to go to the rib place, you have to say so!” The complete irony being that I was already making the U-turn, which is what she wanted me to do. . . . Family culture being a hard thing to shake . . .
But as we pulled into the already crowded parking lot, the smell was absolutely divine. There was already a line. Good thing, too, it gave us time to read the menu and decide what we wanted.
We both ordered ribs. We are both forbidden to eat ribs. I eat ribs maybe one time each year, like once, at a buffet, I ate one small rib. It is so rare that I allow myself to eat a rib that I can remember even that one tiny rib. But this time, I ordered ribs, because my Mom did. She ordered Sweet Potato Fries and Cole Slaw and I ordered Hush Puppies and Cole Slaw.
You are going to be so so proud of me. I took pictures before we ate the food this time, well, except for one tiny bite I took out of the hushpuppies, but that was to show you what they look like on the inside. (My Mom has NEVER had a hushpuppy in her life before having one of mine.)
We sat down in the large outside sitting place – I can’t help but wonder what they do in the winter time, because it can get really really cold and damp in Seattle, but I am guessing that they do a huge take-out business.
They have a map that they want people to put push-pins in to say where they are from:
I made a little addition:
And, as I promised, here is the food. Actually, they gave Mom this HUGE portion, about double my portion, but since I got four ribs and only ate two, Mom took home a huge box of leftover ribs to package up and freeze and have a little at a time.
Did you know sweet potatoes are really really healthy for you?
(I think sweet potatoes are healthier for you when they have a lower surface/interior ratio and have absorbed less fat, but these are totally, incredibly delicious. That’s sugar on the sweet potato fries, not salt.) Mom took leftover sweet potato fries home, too.
I can’t even pretend that there is anything healthy about deep fried cornbread. I ate them all, except the one Mom ate. They . . . they were really really good. Yes, I am so ashamed, but I would do it again.
And no, I didn’t take a photo of the sweet potato pie, generously seasoned with fresh nutmeg, it was divine, or the key lime pie we couldn’t eat and Mom took that home, too.
Oh, this food was good. As we left, the line stretched way out to door and into the parking lot.
Casper’s Taste of the South
15030 Bothell Way
Lake Forest Park, WA
(206)268-0202
Their slogan is:
Put a Little South in Your Mouth. LLLOOOLLLL!
A New Approach – The John School
From CNN World News
NASHVILLE, Tennessee (CNN) — The accused came from all walks of life: Retirees, dads and twentysomethings. An engineer, a business owner and an auto worker. A man in a wheelchair. Men in need of Spanish or Farsi translators.
Brett Beasley, with Nashville’s Health Department, educates men arrested for trying to buy sex about STDs.
About 40 men somberly entered a classroom on a recent Saturday morning. About half of them wore shiny wedding bands.
All had tried to buy a prostitute’s services and were caught by police. It was their first offense, and a county court referred them to a one-day program called the John School. It’s a program run by volunteers and city officials in conjunction with Magdalene House, a nonprofit that works to get prostitutes off the streets.
“Prostitution doesn’t discriminate,” said Kenny Baker, a cognitive behavioral therapist who is the program’s director. “Most of these men don’t have a prior criminal history, so our goal is to help these folks understand why they put themselves in a bad position, to prevent it from happening again.”
Set in a church in Nashville, Tennessee, the John School is led by former prostitutes, health experts, psychologists and law enforcement officers who talk to — and at times berate — the men about the risks of hiring a prostitute.
Prostitution is based on the law of supply and demand. The thinking is: Women won’t stop selling sex until men stop buying.
So Nashville and a growing number of cities are shifting their focus from locking up suppliers to educating buyers. Across the country, about 50 communities are using John Schools. Atlanta, Georgia, and Baltimore, Maryland, are among dozens more cities that plan to launch similar programs by the end of the year. See where the John Schools are »
“It will make them [offenders] see that this is not a victimless crime, and they are contributing to the exploitation of women,” said Stephanie Davis, policy adviser on women’s issues at the mayor’s office in Atlanta. “It’s hurting them, the man, and it’s hurting their families and its hurting the community.”
No comprehensive effort has been made to track the numbers, but experts estimate 1 million to 2 million prostitutes work in the United States. The FBI’s 2007 Uniform Crime Report lists about 78,000 arrests for prostitution and commercialized vice, but experts say those numbers are extremely conservative because many sex workers and johns aren’t caught.
Experts add that easy accessibility to prostitutes and pornography on the Internet are feeding the problem.
In most communities, prostitution has been a one-sided battle focused on the women who offer sex. Their customers, when they are arrested, are usually cited for a misdemeanor and fined.
By comparison, prostitutes are often charged with more severe sentences and jailed for months, depending on the offense.
But in Nashville, the johns’ faces are shown on a police Web site.
For decades, Nashville battled prostitution by arresting women on the streets and through stings. Still, the problem persisted, irritating business owners and residents.
In the early 1990s, Nashville’s mayor helped launch the John School with the help of the Magdalene House, public defenders, prosecutors and police officers. Nashville became one of the first major cities in the U.S. to focus on the customers, predominantly men.
Only first-time offenders who solicit an adult are eligible for John School. Johns who pick up minors are not eligible and face much tougher sentences.
“If you get caught again and you get me, I will guarantee to put you in jail,” warned Antoinette Welch, a local prosecutor, in speaking to the men in the class. “I’ve had men cry to me that they will lose their jobs or their wives, but you’re all grown up and you make your own decisions.”
The men listened carefully as Welch talked about their records; many had not yet told their wives or significant others about their arrest.
If the john pleads guilty, pays a $250 fee and completes the course without re-offending, the charge can be dismissed after a year. The money paid by the john goes to Magdalene House; the program doesn’t cost taxpayers any money. John School models in other communities may differ.
A woman who called herself Alexis, a 35-year-old former prostitute with dark hair and bright blue eyes, spoke to the men as the class came to an end. Four years ago, she left the streets and now works at a factory.
By the age of 10, Alexis had learned to barter with sex with her stepfather. In her 20s, she found herself hooked on drugs and selling her body. She was arrested more than 80 times. She was hospitalized after someone shot her on the job.
As she told her story, the men were silent. A few blushed, while others stared at the floor.
“These gentlemen are no different than I was on the streets,” she said. “I think everyone has to look at the void they are trying to fill.”
One john, a father of two with salt-and-pepper hair, found himself near tears after Alexis spoke. In July, he tried to pick up a prostitute through Craigslist. He said he was depressed and having problems with his wife.
“I’m so embarrassed,” he said. “These girls are somebody’s daughters. I have a daughter.”
Some evidence suggests that John Schools are working. A 2008 government study looked at the John School program in San Francisco, California. It’s one of the largest programs in the country; more than 7,000 johns have attended since 1995.
According to the study, the re-arrest rate fell sharply after the school was launched, and stayed more than 30 percent lower for 10 years afterward.
But critics call John School a slap on the wrist. On Saturday, one john abandoned the classroom.
Carol Leigh, who founded the Sex Workers Outreach Project, a group that promotes legalizing prostitution in California, said she doesn’t believe the program is an effective deterrent. Last year, she helped advocate on behalf of a law known as Proposition K that would legalize prostitution in San Fransisco. The proposal was rejected by the city.
“John School doesn’t do that much,” said Leigh, who has worked as a prostitute. “The reality is they aren’t spending that much time on the johns and they will just go and re-offend at other venues. This also doesn’t target the violent offenders who are the real problem.”
Melissa Farley, head of the nonprofit group Prostitution Research and Education in San Fransisco, believes johns deserve stronger punishment like longer prison sentences.
A recent study she conducted among johns in Chicago, Illinois, found that 41 percent of them said John School would deter them from buying sex, compared with 92 percent who said being placed on a sex offender registry would scare them from re-offending.
Nashville officials said they haven’t tracked recidivism rates in their city, but the school’s program director said it’s probably deterring a third of the offenders in each class.
At least one college educated, 47-year-old john’s attitude appeared to change on a recent Saturday.
After class he wrote, “There is no good part. I would rather be with my wife. This was quick but it wasn’t worth it.”
Not Happy Ever After
Things are not happy for this brave little girl who took a taxi across town to sit in the judge’s chambers so that – at 10 years old – she could ask for a divorce.
I can imagine her family is NOT happy – she got her divorce, but her proverty-striken family had to compensate her aged husband $200 – a fortune for a poor family.
From CNN World News
Yemen (CNN) — It is midday and girls are flooding out of school, but Nujood Ali is not among them.
We find her at the family’s two-room house in an impoverished suburb of the city where Nujood is angry, combative and yelling. Tension surrounds the home like a noose.
After much arguing with family members, Nujood finally grabs her veil and agrees to sit down with CNN. Her presence is grudging, although CNN had got permission in advance to see how the girl who rocked a nation by demanding a divorce was shaping up.
Nujood is very different from the girl we first met nearly two years ago. Then, there was no doubt the 10-year-old was every inch a child. She was the very portrait of innocence: A shy smile, a playful nature and a whimsical giggle.
That picture was very much at odds with the brutal story of abuse she endured as a child bride who fought for a divorce and is now still fighting. Watch as Nujood remains defiant.
Nujood says she remains relieved and gratified that her act of defiance — which led to appearances at awards shows and on TV — had paid off.
The story was supposed to end with the divorce and an innocent but determined girl allowed to fully embrace the childhood she fought so hard to keep.
Instead, there has been no fairytale ending for Nujood.
There was, though, a stunning transformation. Nujood went from being a victim and child bride to a portrait of courage and triumph. Her inspirational story was told and re-told around the world, but at home all was not well.
In the fall of 2008 Nujood was recognized as Glamour Magazine’s Woman of the Year, alongside some of the world’s most impressive women. She even attended the ceremony in New York and was applauded by women from Hillary Clinton to Nicole Kidman.
There is a tell-all book which is to be published in more than 20 languages, and the author says Nujood will receive a good portion of the royalties.
Nujood’s strength was celebrated by complete strangers. But what did all the fame do for the one person it was meant to transform?
“There is no change at all since going on television. I hoped there was someone to help us, but we didn’t find anyone to help us. It hasn’t changed a thing. They said they were going to help me and no one has helped me. I wish I had never spoken to the media,” Nujood says bitterly.
There was never going to be a fortune. Generous people have donated thousands so Nujood could go to a private school, but she refuses to attend, according to Shada Nasser, the human rights lawyer who took on the child’s divorce case.
“I know Nujood was absent from the school. I spoke with her father and her family. And I ask them to control her and ask her to go every day to school. But they said, ‘You know we don’t have the money for the transportation. Don’t have the money for the food,’ ” says Nasser.
She believes Nujood is being victimized by her own family because they believe Nujood’s fame should bring them fortune.
Nujood’s parents say they’ve received nothing, and in the meantime Nujood stews wondering out loud how everything turned out this way.
“I was happy I got divorced but I’m sad about the way it turned out after I went on television,” she said adding that she feels like an outcast even among her family and friends.
Nujood was pulled out of school in early 2008 and married off by her own parents to a man she says was old and ugly. And yet, as a wife, Nujood was spared nothing.
“I didn’t want to sleep with him but he forced me to, he hit me, insulted me” said Nujood. She said being married and living as a wife at such a young age was sheer torture.
Nujood described how she was beaten and raped and how, after just a few weeks of marriage, she turned to her family to try to escape the arrangement. But her parents told her they could not protect her, that she belonged to her husband now and had to accept her fate.
CNN tried to obtain comment from Nujood’s husband and his family but they declined.
Nujood’s parents, like many others in Yemen, struck a social bargain. More than half of all young Yemeni girls are married off before the age of 18, many times to older men, some with more than one wife.
It means the girls are no longer a financial or moral burden to their parents. But Nujood’s parents say they did not expect Nujood’s new husband to demand sex from his child bride.
To escape, Nujood hailed a taxi — for the first time in her life — to get across town to the central courthouse where she sat on a bench and demanded to see a judge.
After several hours, a judge finally went to see her. “And he asked me, ‘what do you want’ and I said ‘I want a divorce’ and he said ‘you’re married?’ And I said ‘yes.'” says Nujood.
Nujood’s father and husband were arrested until the divorce hearing, and Nujood was put in the care of Nasser.
Indeed, it seems the judge had heard enough of the abuse to agree with Nujood that she should get her divorce.
But based on the principles of Shariah law, her husband was compensated, not prosecuted. Nujood was ordered to pay him more than $200 — a huge amount in a country where the United Nations Development Programme says 15.7 percent of the population lives on less than $1 a day.
Khadije Al Salame is working to help Nujood get her life back. Now a Yemeni diplomat, 30 years ago she too was a child bride. But when she left her husband, she did not have to endure the publicity that now haunts Nujood.
She said: “It’s good to talk about Nujood and to have her story come out, but the problem is it’s too much pressure on her.
“She doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s a little girl and we have to understand as a media people that we should leave her alone now. If we really love Nujood then we should just let her go to school and continue with her life, because education is the most important thing for her.”
To get her divorce, Nujood showed a character and strength not easily expressed by women in Yemen, let alone a 10-year-old child bride. But she will need to muster all that strength and more if she’s to finally reclaim her life.
Nujood told us she thought the divorce would be the end of her struggle and she’s still angry that it turned out to be just the beginning.
Beautiful Flower’s Crab Cakes
Sometimes, the absolute best day happens and you had no idea it was going to happen – you didn’t plan for it to happen, it just sort of came about.
One of my two very good friends in Seattle is Beautiful Flower. We don’t call her that, but that is what her legal name means. After having lunch together in Ivar’s, a place we have haunted for years, we visited with my Mom and then she said she wanted us to go back to her house and make crab cakes. She and her husband had the good fortune to have caught their limit in nice fat crabs this last weekend.
I knew she was having guests from out-of-town, and I am a pretty good crab picker, so I said yes, besides, she has a new recipe from her daughter for crab cakes, and she says it is almost entirely crab, and it is a really good recipe, you can really taste the crab. Oh YUM.
So we put our aprons on and she put down a huge black plastic bag (if you’ve ever cleaned crabs, you know it is very messy work) and got out the hammer and the crab-crackers and the crab picks and away we went. She had four good sized crab – and it didn’t even take us half an hour to clean those beauties, giving us more than a pound of sweet, delicious fresh crab meat. We were talking so much we didn’t even notice how hard we were working!
Her daughter arrived, and they started putting together the crab cakes – just wrapping the crab mixture in panko, the Japanese break crumb coating.
We had a lengthy discussion about the right way to fry crab cakes – Beautiful Flower uses olive oil, but her daughter prefers straight butter. I love the taste of butter, but use mostly olive oil with just a pat of butter for the flavor. I think she used a mix, but we were all talking so fast I didn’t really pay attention as I should.
As my friend was frying up the crab cakes, she was telling us that she and her next two sisters all had names that started with “beautiful” but that when the fourth sister came along, her mother named her “too many girls!” Fortunately, the nurse at the hospital writing down the name wrote down “Proud girl” instead of “Too many girls” (they sound sort of alike if you aren’t listening too carefully).
My friend also told us she went to visit her mother in the hospital with her grandmother, her father’s father. When her grandmother discovered that her mother had another daughter, she was so mad she left my friend – 6 years old – and didn’t even visit her mother!
My friend, 6 years old, had to try to find her mother in the hospital and give her the food they had brought. But it was the middle of winter, and the nurses had covered up all the new mothers, from head to toe, so my friend couldn’t find her mother! Finally, somehow she found her and fed her, and then – at 6 years old – she had to walk 5 miles back to her house alone, because her grandmother had left her there! She said she didn’t talk to her grandmother for a long time.
Her daughter had never heard that story, had heard her mother’s sisters call the one sister “Lo Moi”, but didn’t know that it meant “too many girls!” The family still call the youngest sister “Too Many Girls” even though her legal name was Proud Girl.
See what I would have missed if we weren’t making crab cakes?!
Beautiful Flower’s Daughter’s Recipe for Really Good Crab Cakes
1 lb crab meat
2 Tablespoons + 2 Teaspoons chopped fresh chives (or green onions)
2 Tablespoons + 2 Teaspoons chopped fresh dill
2 Tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
salt pepper (we left it out because crab is naturally salty)
1/2 cup panko
Shape crab into patty, roll in panko, place on cookie sheet until ready to fry. Fry in lightly oiled/buttered pan until golden brown. Eat!
Crab cakes served with Beautiful Flower’s Daughter’s Homemade Plum Sauce:
(When I called my friend this morning to thank her for the wonderful time, I told her that I had a crab cake for breakfast, and they are as good cold as they are hot and she laughed and said she was having a crab cake for breakfast, too. What sheer luxury! Crabcake for breakfast! 🙂 )
Maggie O’Farrell and The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox
Maggie O’Farrel’s The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox is also a book club pick, but oh, what a pick! I remember somewhere reading a review; I might never have picked this book up if I hadn’t needed to read it for the club. And oh, what I might have missed!
It’s like the scariest book ever written, scary in a Margaret Atwood kind of way, a reminder that women have not had rights for very long, and that those rights are still very fragile. When economies go bottoms-up, when unemployment begins rising, women are often the first to suffer, and women’s rights the first to go. In hard times, men will be preferred hirings, because they have families to support, laws to “protect” women are passed, especially laws which “protect” her finances, meaning gives the power of the money management to some man to do for her, or “protect” her person by requiring that some man accompany her to keep her from dangers. Protection = control. It keeps some smart, thinking women submissive to men who are in every way their inferior.
In Vanishing, Maggie O’Farrel writes of such a woman, Esme Lennox, who is a fey spirit, born in India, with the eyes of an artist. While her “good” sister Kitty obeys the rules, walks the straight and narrow path, Esme is messier. As she grows to adolescence, her eccentricity and her rebellion against the constricts of the life in turn-of-the-century Scotland chafe, she yearns for more room to breathe, intellectually, socially, as her family, her community and her society continues to pressure her to conform.
One of the key events in the book is the death of Esme’s baby brother, of typhoid fever. Abandoned, Esme sits holding her dead brother’s body for three days until her family returns (the baby-keeper also died and the other employees deserted while Esme’s family was away). Esme is devastated, but the focus is on her mother, who is wrought with guilt and isolates herself, and Esme, only a little girl, is forbidden to even say her beloved baby brother’s name. Part of what plays a huge role in this book is society, expectations, and all that is hidden and unspoken – as Esme becomes, a family secret, locked away for sixty years.
Their grandmother swept into the room ‘Kitty,’ there was an unaccustomed smile on her face, ‘stir yourself. You have a visitor.’
Kitty put down her needle. ‘Who?’
Their mother appeared behind the grandmother. ‘Kitty,’ she said ‘quickly put that away. He’s here, he’s downstairs . . . ‘
. . . .
Esme watched from the window-seat as her mother started fiddling with Kitty’s hari, tucking it behind her ears, then releasing it. . . . . Ishbel turned and, catching sight of Esme at the window, said ‘You, too. Quickly now.’
Esme took the stairs slowly. She had no desire to meet one of Kitty’s suitors. They all seemed the same to her – nervous men with over-combed hair, scrubbed hands and pressed shirts. They came and drank tea, and she and Kitty were expected to talk to them while their mother sat like an umpire in a chair across the room. The whole thing made Esme want to burst into honesty, to say, let’s forget this charade, do you want to marry her or not?
She dawdled on the landing, looking at a grim, grey-skied watercolour of the Fife coast. But her grandmother appeared in the hall below. ‘Esme!’ she hissed, and Esme clattered down the stairs.
In the drawing room, she plumped down in a chair with high arms in the corner. She wound her ankles round its polished legs and eyed the suitor. The same as ever. Perhaps a little more good-looking than some of the others. Blond hair, an arrogant forehead, fastidious cuffs. He was asking Ishbel something about the roses in a bowl on the table. Esme had to repress the urge to roll her eyes. Kitty was sitting bolt upright on the sofa, pouring tea into a cup, a blush creeping up her neck.
Esme began playing the game she often played with herself at times like this, looking over the room and working out how she might get round it without touching the floor. She could climb from the sofa to the low table and, from there, to the fender stool. Along that, and then –
She realized her mother was loooking at her, saying something.
‘What was that?” Esme said.
‘James was addressing you.’ her mother said, and the slight flare of her nostrils meant, Esme knew, that she’d better behave or there would be trouble later.
As with many inconvenient women, Esme ends up committed at a loony-bin, and sixty years later, is released into the custody of a grand-niece who never even knew Esme existed.
The thoughts, trials and escapades of three women, Esme, her sister Kitty, and Iris, the grand-niece, intertwine through out the book, and the picture is cloudy at first, blurry, shifting, fragmented The pattern becomes more and more clear as the three threads of thought are woven – ever more tightly – together.
I could not put this book down. Finding out how the picture came together became more important than checking my messages, my blog, or fixing dinner. It was compelling, and resulted in a quick and unforgettable read.
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