"The Psychology Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained"

Just finished another Bathroom Book, which Sam bought for me nearly 3 years ago when I was experiencing a life slump where I felt like I was boring and never had anything to talk about. (Does this make you wonder whether Sam agreed, or whether it was just a sweet way for him to cheer me up? Part of me knows Sam well enough to be sure it was the latter, part of me says "don't go there.")

As per usual for DK books, this book is a good, broad (if not especially deep) overview of the history of psychology, broken down into manageable (bathroom session-length) sections. It starts with the very roots (Galen, Descartes, Herbart) and hits all the big names in psychology chronologically, describing each one's main ideas. 

I was probably about halfway through the book when I realized I really wasn't retaining any of it. Should I start taking notes? Should I go back and review? Then I came to my senses. I wasn't studying for an exam. I wasn't even looking for gems to incorporate in my life (and if I did come across one, I would be happy to record it). I remembered my purpose in reading this book (a prompt to think, and therefore a prompt for discussion) and realized that--much as I love the idea of Knowing Everything (while, hopefully, avoiding the pitfall of being recognized by others as one who thinks I Know Everything), it's never gonna happen. And if I really need to know the specifics of a particular era in human psychology, there's always Wikipedia. 

I did note two parts that stood out to me. First: Karen Horney (1885-1952) said there is a "real self" (your authentic desires), an "ideal self" that strives to fulfill demands (those things you think you "should" do--often based on external pressure, which is internalized), and the "despised self," which is what develops when you fail to meet the expectations of the ideal self. Therapy might help with discovering your real self and putting off your ideal and despised selves, allowing you to find goals and aspirations that are authentic to you, not just things you feel like you "should" do.

Second, I noted the work of Carl Rogers (1902-1987) which ran along very similar lines and can in part be summarized this way: "Resentment can be buried deep within us when we act in accordance with someone else's wishes rather than our own. If our actions are free of external influences, we feel more authentic, more solidly in control of our own destiny, and more satisfied with the results."

Gardening books

I really enjoyed dreaming my way through these two gardening books. Sam gave them to me for my birthday, after I had mentioned that I would like to have a nice book on garden design. Both books were full of beautiful photos, showcasing amazing gardens of all sorts.

The first one that I read was Gardentopia: Design Basics for Creating Beautiful Outdoor Spaces by Jan Johnsen. It seemed to me like more of a lookbook than a true garden design book: it pictured lots of beautiful ideas, but did not provide much in the way of cohesive planning assistance. It did cover quite a few garden design concepts, but (of necessity in a publication intended for a broad audience) these concepts were expressed in vague generalities. I did note down two helpful things: 1) Aim to create gracefully curved sweeps, rather than short wiggles or straight lines. 2) Balance a garden with yin and yang, creating harmony by using the two concepts to contrast and complement each other. Examples of yin: rounded shapes, soft leaves, flowers, water, contained shady spots, darker colors. Examples of yang: straight and vertical lines, hard rock, sunny open areas, lighter colors. 

Next up was Home Outside: Creating the Landscape You Love by Julie Moir Messervy. I really liked this one, and I think eventually I will find it much more useful than Gardentopia. It asks a lot of work from the reader (which I have thus far only read about) but it gives pretty explicit steps to follow, which is great. It's much more focused on a property as a whole, rather than individual little nooks and crannies. It is also much more focused on hardscaping than on planting. Unsurprisingly (it's right there in the title) this book is more about landscape design than garden design. But that doesn't mean I wasn't left with some serious yard envy!

Both books were enjoyable, but neither was exactly what I was looking for (not that I'm ungrateful or anything). I really wanted something that will teach me garden design. I want to be able to look at part of my yard and know: in this x-shaped plot of land, with y amount of shade and z amount of water, I should plant three of a, five of b and one of c, and if I plant them in this pattern, they will look great and thrive. Maybe someday (like when I'm retired) I will become a Master Gardener, and maybe in my pursuit of that honor, I will attain this knowledge. But for now, I'm still stuck with the somewhat less efficient process of garden experimentation.

"Anil's Ghost" by Michael Ondaatje

It is currently colder than it has any right to be in this part of the world, and I want nothing more than to put my feet somewhere warm (ideally, Costa Rica; but as that is not possible at the moment, maybe on my husband?) and curl up with a good book. But I am prevented from this simple pleasure by the knowledge that I am behind on blog posts, and reading yet another book will only serve to get me farther behind. Plus . . . I can read (during the daytime) without electricity, but blogging is another story, and in weather like this, electricity is not a sure thing. So blogging it is.

I felt like I ought to have been impressed by Anil's Ghost. Ondaatje is a celebrated author (thought admittedly more for The English Patient and Warlight than for this novel) and it says right there on the back of this book that it is "a work displaying all the richness of imagery and language and piercing emotional truth that we have come to know as the hallmarks" of Ondaatje's writing. So I know that this book (and its author, and the subject matter) are all worthy of inspiring admiration, and I ought to have been impressed. 

But I wasn't.  

That's not to say that I feel especially critical about this book, or that I had a strongly negative reading experience, or that you shouldn't read it. But it does mean that I did not sink into this book. I did not luxuriate in it. It was not one of those books that reminded me of why I love to read.

I think I felt a little bit lost as I read. One issue was my own ignorance. I had absolutely no context for this book, having no awareness of the civil war that was fought in Sri Lanka from 1983 to 2009, and this was not the type of book to provide much context or to add much to my knowledge. There is pleasure in reading a book that is subtly written, where details are hinted at rather than spelled out, when there is guesswork and interpretation involved, but this is only truly pleasurable when the reader feels able to fit some puzzle pieces together. Instead, I felt as if I was reading a dark book in the darkness, and I merely stumbled my way through it.

I suppose I should try to give a brief summary of the book. Anil Tissera is a forensic anthropologist of Sri Lankan heritage. She is sent back to her home country by an international human rights group to investigate government-linked murders. It is not a plot-heavy book, but despite this, there are plenty of horrors described (highway crucifixion is one that sticks in my mind). And I spent most of the book assuming that Anil was doomed (why else would the book be called Anil's Ghost?) but she survived, which left me trying to determine the identity of Anil's ghost. Is it her coworker Sarath who ensures she is able to get out of the country safely? Is it Sailor, the skeleton on which she focuses much of her work? Is it Ananda's wife Sirissa? Is she haunted by Sri Lanka itself? 

“Dinner in One” by Melissa Clark

I've cooked my way through another Melissa Clark cookbook! But not Dinner in French (yet--I took the easy way out and put that one on the back burner). Instead I went with Dinner in One: Exceptional & Easy One Pan Meals. In some ways this was like a step backwards, after having cooked all the recipes in Dinner. Generally, the DiO recipes are slightly less complicated, slightly less time-consuming, with a slightly shorter list of ingredients (and either a greater percentage of the ingredients are easy to find, or I've grown accustomed to tracking down unusual food items). In short, I would characterize the DiO recipes as generally simpler and easier. But a step towards comfort is totally acceptable when the results are still amazing. AND if you're not ready to take a flying leap into fancy French feasts. 

The first recipe I cooked from Dinner in One (Crispy Lemon Chicken with Potatoes, Oregano and Capers) also happens to be the first recipe in the book. I cooked it on Saturday, March 9, 2024. My notes (in part) say, "For such a simple-seeming recipe, I feel like I screwed it up in a surprising number of ways! But it all turned out OK in the end, & tasted good."

The second recipe I cooked from DiO was not the second recipe in the book. I did not stick with cookbook order. The book is divided by cooking method (sheet pans, skillets, dutch ovens, etc) followed by a small selection of cakes and another small section of basic sides. I didn't want to focus on my favorite chapter (sheet pans!) and then get stuck slogging through my least favorite (instant pots & multicookers . . . though I must admit this was really only my least favorite because I don't own an instant pot or multicooker, and I don't want to buy one, so I had to adapt all the recipes to a dutch oven). So I skipped around. The varying number of recipes in each section don't allow you to do the entire book by cooking one recipe from each section and then continually cycling through again (for example, there are 18 sheet pan recipes and only 8 instant pot recipes), but I bounced around in a way that would ensure I did not get bored and neither did our palates.

Ninety-nine recipes later, I finished up on Saturday, December 27, 2025 (the last Saturday of the year) by cooking Cauliflower-Carrot Soup with Smoky Paprika Shrimp ("Nice soup!") but I'm still not planning to dive into Dinner in French yet (though I do get brave and try something out of it occasionally). The main reason I'm continuing to put it off is because Sam gave me a copy of Melissa Clark's Kitchen for my birthday, so I have my work cut out for me for another year or so!

“Hercule Poirot’s Christmas” by Agatha Christie

 I had such fun reading this book! And I'm sad that it's over. 

Could Hercule Poirot's Christmas be considered high literature? No. Did I learn anything from it? Not really. Is Agatha Christie a genius? Maybe. Did I enjoy the reading experience more than, say, the last six books I read? Yes. Definitely yes! And it was certainly a bonus that this book took place from December 22 to December 28. (When I first picked it up on December 20, I had brief thoughts about waiting and reading each part on the day it took place . . . but I let go of that idea pretty quickly). 

AND! And I guessed whodunnit! I had my first suspicions on page 74 (out of 272). I had my second (confirmatory) suspicions on page 84. And from there on out I continued picking up supporting clues. I was wrong about a few minor plot points (I thought there might be more than one death; I didn't guess who stole the diamonds--although I thought it must be one of three people, and it was one of those three people; and I was unnecessarily hard on the creepy manservant) but I was right about the broad strokes. Sam asked me whether this made the story boring or satisfying, and the answer is satisfying. Definitely satisfying! 

But here's what I'll never know. How was I able to guess the murderer? Is Agatha Christie's writing too formulaic? (Surely not.) Have I read too many of her books? (Is that possible?) Have I maybe read this book before, and that's how I guessed the killer--because actually, somewhere in my subconscious, I already knew who it was? (Entirely possible for a literary amnesiac. But at least I know that I had not read this book any time within the past sixteen years. Thanks, blog!)

“The Lost Bookshop” by Evie Woods

Life is too short to read books you don’t love. But the problem is… how do you know if you’ll love a book before you read it?

Sam gave me a copy of The Lost Bookshop for my birthday. Amazon calls it "the perfect gift for book lovers," so of course I can understand why Sam selected it for me. He did sound a bit uncertain about it, pointing out that even just the (quite pretty and intriguing) cover looks like something formulaic that AI might create if you prompted it with all the tropes that book lovers love. Something created to appeal to the greatest number of people possible, even if this is likely to result in no intense personal connection for anyone. Something created with "sell more books" as the only focus. 

This book has so many elements I should have loved. It's set in Dublin, London and Paris: places that are both familiar and exciting, foreign without being exotic, recognizable but not mundane. It has love and lust without embarrassing sex scenes. It has a beautiful and magical bookshop (not to mention Shakespeare & Co!), and it's full of secrets and mysteries. And it has books, books, and more books! Even a hidden manuscript of a second novel by Emily Brontë!

But somehow this combination of all the ingredients for a perfect book lover's book did not cook up into the perfect book for this book lover. It was okay. I didn't hate it. I read it easily. But love it I did not. 

The Lost Bookshop is one of those dual-timeline books (another thing I tend to love!), telling the story of Opaline [Carlisle] Gray in the 1920s alongside the story of Henry and Martha in the present day, as they discover Opaline's old secrets--how she tried to live the life of a strong, independent woman but was foiled by the patriarchal oppression of her time. But I found the characters and their emotions unlikely and inconsistent, and their secrets were either insubstantial or inscrutable.

And there were errors I could not allow to slide:

• On page 25, Opaline introduces herself to Hassan as "Miss Carlisle" (as a proper lady should). Then on page 28, Hassan calls her "Mademoiselle Opaline." How did Hassan know her first name? In a  better book, that error would not have appeared. In a much better book, that detail would have been a plot point later. 
• On page 39, this sentence appears: "That's because words survived, somehow I would too." Surely either it should have read "That" instead of "That's", or that one sentence should have been two separate sentences.
• While I can accept that a grown adult may not know how to make a martini, I find it very difficult to believe that any 21st-century adult human would search "through the bottles for one called martini." 
• Princeton University is not in New York. Close! but no cigar. 
• On page 347 (and this one is really unforgivable): Opaline daydreams about being in Little Women with Jo Marsh. Marsh? Marsh?!? (Here you should imagine my shout echoing throughout the city and causing the pigeons to fly up in a panic.)

But the good news is that now I can move on to a new book, and it's sure to be one I like more!

“Tidy Up Your Life” by Tyler Moore

I've mentioned Modern General in Santa Fe before, but it's worth mentioning again. It's a kind of cafe (though I've never eaten there--to its detriment, it is right next door to Vinaigrette, where I love to eat lunch) but it also sells a very limited, highly curated selection of books, foodstuffs, and kitchen implements. We always enjoy poking around in there (either just before or just after eating lunch next door). 

Not surprisingly, once again I found a book that spoke to me in Modern General. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I have an affinity for tidying, so of course when I saw a book entitled Tidy Up Your Life, I immediately reached for it. I'd never heard of the Insta-famous Tidy Dad before, but that didn't put me off. (He had me at Tidy.)

As soon as I saw the tidy little table of contents, I knew I wanted to buy this book. I was less interested in Part I ("Tidy Up Your Mind") than in Part II ("Tidy Up Your Space"), although Part I does have a chapter called "Stop Doing All the Work" which sounded great to me. Don't take this to mean I have one of those husbands who leaves me to do all the work, because I don't, and he doesn't. But what if there were a way we could both stop doing all the work?? I'm all about working smarter, not harder. 

I read this book quickly and eagerly, and it's full of relatable anecdotes from Tidy Dad's real life in a tiny NYC apartment with his wife and three daughters, but ultimately I didn't come away with a ton of ideas. To the point where I almost wonder--was I not paying enough attention? Do I need to read it again?? I did take a few notes (about the decluttering cycle, and determining what "just enough" is for us, and how a "routine framework" should serve you, not control you), but looking back over it, I don't see much that I hadn't already heard elsewhere. Except! Right in the middle is a good plan for transitioning elderly parents from their home to assisted living, and I have saved a personalized version of this plan in my Google Drive. (No, Mom and Dad, we don't need this plan yet, but it will be there for us when we do.) Speaking of my parents, though, I am starting to think about gifting this book to them for Christmas. Whereas I am already (slowly but surely) doing Death Cleaning so as not to leave a huge mess for my children someday, my parents are obviously not doing me that favor (yet). Maybe this book will be a gentle nudge in that direction.

“One Beautiful Year of Normal” by Sandra K. Griffith

I usually tend to stay away from ARCs, just as I stay away from self-published novels, for two reasons: one, I prefer to let publishing companies wade through sludge to find gems instead of doing it myself (which may mean I miss out in some cases, but it feels more efficient); and two, then I don’t have to feel bad crapping all over a new author’s efforts if I don’t like the book. 

I broke my unwritten rule and accepted an ARC for One Beautiful Year of Normal, also for two reasons: it takes place in Savannah and Tybee Island, Georgia—two towns I’ve traveled to and have fond memories of; and it promised suspense, family secrets, and “richly layered storytelling.”

Unfortunately, reading this book reinforced my unwritten rule (and here’s the part where I crap all over it, then feel bad, but make myself feel better by claiming the old adage that there’s no such thing as bad publicity). As early as page two, I was finding fault with the writing. By page 6 I had already noted nine things I would have edited if I could have. These ranged from simple annoyance at seeing “Bateaux Mouches” (which would not have annoyed me if it had been written “bateaux-mouches”) to eye-rolling disbelief that a lawyer might call the next of kin fifteen minutes after his client’s death.   

And yet I kept reading. Part of this, of course, is due to my can’t-not-finish-a-book curse that I still haven’t overcome. But also (though related to my curse, and in spite of never really connecting to the characters) I did want to know what happened. 

This book tells the story of August Jules Caine, who has been living under the name Giselle Roamer for the past eighteen years. (Both names strike me as pretentious and unrealistic, which was another of the nine items I would have edited). August (who is called Août by a Frenchman… surely he wouldn’t actually do that!) is awakened in her Paris apartment at 4am by a phone call from a lawyer in Savannah, Georgia (yep, 4am in Paris is 10pm on the east coast of the US, making that lawyer’s quick phone call even less likely). The lawyer is calling with bad news: Aunt Helen has passed away. But August is confused—Aunt Helen died fifteen years ago… which is a pretty good setup for a suspense novel.

Some people will love this book. After all, I am apparently the only person in the world who did not like The Monsters of Templeton, and Lauren Groff has gone on to publish multiple bestsellers despite my criticism. 

“The Clasp” by Sloane Crosley

Yep, it’s official. I like Sloane Crosley’s essays more than I like her novels.  

The Clasp is the story of Victor, Kezia and Nathaniel, college friends who aren’t as close as they once were. They meet up again at the wedding of an acquaintance, where Victor becomes convinced of the harebrained idea that the necklace from the Guy de Maupassant short story of that name was a real item rather than a fictional one. What’s more, Victor decides he might know where to find that amazing necklace. Everyone ends up in France, which is always fun. 

Not that I didn’t like this book. It was a fun read (funny, with a swift plot) and I liked the characters. Crosley is a good writer. But I have decided I would prefer to read essays by Crosley and novels by someone else. 

“Waking Up” by Sam Harris

I can’t sleep. This is not a frequent occurrence for me, but after lying in bed in the dark for a while, trying to be still and quiet and wishing for sleep to return, I finally decided I might as well get up and use my wide-awake mind for reading. And in this situation, what better book to choose than one called Waking Up?

Sam Harris, a neuroscientist, is known as one of the “Four Horsemen of New Atheism.”  He spent several years of his early adulthood in India and Nepal, studying meditation with Buddhist and Hindu masters, but his approach to spiritual insight is independent of religious beliefs. Sam (my Sam, rather than Sam Harris) read this book first; he has become interested in meditation, and Harris’s areligious approach appealed to him. He thought I would find this book interesting as well. 

He was kind of wrong. I struggled my way through most of this book, forcing myself to read five minutes at a time. The ideas that self is an illusion and that we can experience “having no head” remain foreign to me. In fact, the aptness of the title wasn’t what really caused me to reach for this book in the middle of the night: it was the expectation that it would lull me back to sleep. 

But I was wrong too. I found the final quarter of this book to be the most interesting part of it. The bulk of the last 50 pages is a chapter on gurus (none are perfect, or perfectly enlightened), death (near-death experiences don’t tell us anything about what we can expect to experience in actual death), and drugs (where Harris recommends a good trip on psilocybin or LSD, while acknowledging that a bad one can be an “extremely unpleasant and destabilizing experience”).

My favorite part of this book doesn’t have much to do with meditation. It was a single line in the paragraph that initiated the discussion of drugs (“The Spiritual Uses of Pharmacology”) and when I read it I paused, then re-read it several times, savoring this perspective I’d never really considered before:

“We read for the pleasure of thinking another person’s thoughts.”

“Books Make a Home: Elegant Ideas for Storing & Displaying Books” by Damian Thompson

This is the book that the Internet presented to me when I searched for the non-existent Designing With Books. I expected a book full of drool-worthy shelving that was brimming with books and all kinds of other eye-catching elements. For someone who already has a good number of shelves and cubbies, what I really wanted was ideas for how to make those shelves and cubbies look great. Instead, this book provides ideas for where to put all your books when you don't own enough bookshelves and you don't want to solve that problem by buying plain-Jane options. It showcases the libraries and studies of the creative, the rich, and the rich creatives. This apparently translates to lots of quirkiness.

I love books, and I love having them all over my house, but I don't really love the higgledy-piggledy style depicted in this book. The majority of these interiors just look messy to me. Like a junk shop, which is often intriguing to browse in but which doesn't feel calm and tranquil to live in. Generally, I take issue with the characterization of these bookshelves as “elegant.” And the few photos of interiors that are neat and calm are also the ones that are the least realistic (like where everything is white, or where all the book spines match each other). 

While I enjoyed reading through this book and poring over the photos, I am disappointed that I did not come away with more ideas. I need a system--I've organized all of our books, but I don't have a place for us to put new ones, or a place for keepers after I've read them. Also, I need options and ideas for bookshelf decor. (Obviously this book shows bookshelf decor galore, but so much of it is a one-man's-trash-is-another-man's-treasure scenario.) Most importantly, I need to know how I can easily display a paperback so that it is upright (not leaning back on a bookrest or stand) with the cover facing outwards, rather than oriented the usual way (spine out). At least the book gave me one idea: curate the selection in the guest bedroom! And it made me think that maybe the relative messiness of my bookshelves is unavoidable.

I saved this photo years ago (I have no memory of where I even came across it) because I loved the vibe and all of the books everywhere. Plus the girl in the chair reminded me of Bookworm Child with her blonde hair. This photo would have been right at home in Books Make a Home.

"Heart the Lover" by Lily King

Just got out my List of Favorite Authors and realized Lily King did not appear on it. So, she does now! Squeezed in at #6 between Rachel Cusk and Sarah Moss. (Yep, it's ranked.)

Is Heart the Lover the best Lily King book ever? I don't know. I remember really liking Writers & Lovers and Euphoria, and her book of short stories (Five Tuesdays in Winter) was solid too. But what I do know is that HTL is really really good and it made me want to buy and read all of King's other books (of which, so far, there are three).

Heart the Lover is the story of a college girl who befriends a pair of highly intelligent and intriguing guys, Sam and Yash. It doesn't take long before she's in an weirdly hot-and-cold relationship with Sam. This goes the way of most college relationships (or was it just mine?), and a few months after graduation everything comes crashing down. Then suddenly, disorientingly,  it's Part II---maybe two decades later--and it takes me a minute to get my bearings. And a formerly great story becomes great and terrible. It's not all doom and gloom and sadness, but there's definitely a bunch of all of that. In fact, King imbues the entire book with intense emotion, somehow doing it without overdoing it.

I did not realize until LITERALLY the LAST PARAGRAPH OF THE BOOK that the main character in this one is also the main character in Writers & Lovers. (Is that a spoiler? Should I not have mentioned that? Or is this something that everyone other than a literary amnesiac would have realized far sooner? Anyway, it made me want to re-read W&L so I could solidify that link. Although, knowing me, by the time I get around to re-reading W&L I'll have forgotten everything I learned in HTL . . . ) This last-minute realization bumped it up a notch, from a book I really liked to a book that blew my mind.