Books

So here we are, virtually snowed in for the fifth straight day and waiting for yet another storm.  (As a friend of mine said: “In December we had the Snowpocalypse. This weekend it was Snowmageddon. Coming our way tonight and tomorrow: Snoverkill.”)

You’d think that I’d have plenty of time to blog, being house-bound with Adam at home to help with Sam and all the chores; but I can’t seem to get anything done.  I’m falling behind on the laundry and dishes, I keep forgetting to cook dinner, and the “postpone” hotkey on my task list program is getting worn out.

I was heartened to see that the library was open today and that it was packed!  I guess people do read, after all.  I’ve been reading a lot too, so I guess I’ll do a quick report on the last two books I’ve read, both for my book club.

First, I re-read Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.  I love Jane Austen more each time I read her.  This time around, I finally started understanding her ironic sense of humor.  I was fascinated with the portrayals of “sense” and “sensibility” in the novel, and surprisingly, I was much more sympathetic to the characters who displayed an overabundance of sensibility than I had been in previous readings!  I found that, because Austen accepts the ethics of her times, “sense” includes a heavy dose of altruism and duty.  The (sensible) character of Elinor, although hugely admirable in her strength and moral ambitiousness, is much too concerned about the feelings and fate of others.  She also represses (not just suppresses) her emotions.  I still love her dearly, but I didn’t see her as the clearly better half of the sister-pair.  In fact, I ended up admiring the overly-emotional Marianne even more in the end, because she seemed to grow into a much more sensible person by learning from the trials of herself and of her sister.  The fact that I see these characters quite differently than I did 10 years ago showed me a lot about how I have changed in that time.  What a powerful psychological insight Jane Austen has, and no wonder this is a classic.

Next, I read The Butler Did It, by P.G. Wodehouse.  For the book club, we were supposed to read Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit, but I got the wrong book from the library (a compilation of 5 other novels) and decided to read this short one instead.  It was quite fun!  I loved the humor and the ridiculous ever-twisting plot, and I got quite a few of the literary references (although I’m sure I missed more than I caught).  The end was disappointing.  It had a little twist, but it wasn’t something that made me think, “Of course!  That makes everything else make sense and of course it had to be that way.”  It was more like, “Oh, that’s cute.”  I’d read more by Wodehouse, but I probably won’t seek him out.

I have Getting Things Done reserved at the library but it hasn’t come in yet.  Maybe by the time it does, the roads will be cleared and I’ll be able to go pick it up.  Probably not.

I haven’t been reading as much as usual lately.  I read almost nothing while Adam and I were watching Battlestar Galactica from start to finish because it utterly consumed me.  I bought a couple of light fiction books right before I went in for the D&C because that usually helps when I’m down, but I ended up not doing much reading during that period, either.  And most of my reading has been light fiction because I’ve not been in the right mind-set for anything serious.

However, I do want to continue to record my reading here on the blog, so I’ll try to recall what I’ve read since my last report.  Let’s start with the good stuff, eh?

Chantecler, by Edmond Rostand, (translated by Kay Nolte Smith):  (I believe Kay Nolte Smith was an admirer of Ayn Rand and had some relationship with her, but I can’t recall the details.  Her introduction to this book is wonderful.)  This play is the best thing I’ve read in quite a while.  If you like Cyrano, you might like this book, although it is not as focused as Cyrano and its theme is a bit more confused.  But I loved it.  Chantecler was an intelligent, passionate idealist, and also, yes, a rooster!  The characters are all barnyard animals, which is what turned me off from this play for years, but trust me, its theme is as human as Animal Farm’s.  Any fan of Rostand will recognize the witty dialog – it’s just so darned clever!  I wish I knew French so that I could read the original because, even in translation, the language and wit was amazing.  I’m not sure why this play is not more popular.  There were a few scenes where Rostand took the joke too far and it became tiresome (how many pages of peacock-analogy-satire do I really want to read?), but overall, I think it deserves to be a classic.  Read it!

Speaking of classics and tiresome passages, I also tried to re-read Victor Hugo’s Ninety Three recently.  I’m just not in a place to deal with an author who includes so much extraneous information in his fiction.  Although I was fascinated with the plot, I gave it up after about a month of effort.  (I was also able to recognize Hugo’s stylistic influence on Ayn Rand, elements of which I’ve picked up in my own style.)  I’m sure that I’ll read this book again someday, but I’ll have to be capable of more patience.  Maybe after my child(ren) are all grown up.

I read Montessori Read and Write, by Lynn Lawrence.  I’m still torn about whether or not to buy this book.  I read it quickly from the library and it seemed to have a lot of great exercises.  Actually, now that I write this, I realize that most of the pre-reading exercises that I do with Sammy are from this book, so I probably should go buy a copy.  It’s definitely a worthwhile addition to any Montessori fan’s reading list.

I read two good books by an author new to me, John D. MacDonald.  I read A Purple Place for Dying, and One Fearful Yellow Eye, both of which are part of his Travis McGee series.  It’s detective-fiction, and MacDonald is a cynic, but he’s the kind of cynic you like because he’s just misguided, not nihilistic.  He writes great stories with a biting style that really fits with his cynical view.  I’ll never forget his description of Chicago in “Yellow Eye.”  It was such a witty, scathing condemnation that I heard Dennis Miller’s “rant” voice in my head as I read it.  Even if you don’t “feel it” as a sense of life experience, you’ve got to appreciate MacDonald’s skill.  I plan to read every one of his books.

And now on to the junk.

I read a terrible book called The Water’s Lovely, by Ruth Rendell.  I was intrigued by the plot, but by the end, I found that it was just a cheap, TV-drama-style trick, and worse:  all the good characters suffered and all the bad characters won in the end.  Totally nihilistic.  Do not read this book.

I read The Street Lawyer, by John Grisham.  God, I’m so sick of John Grisham, but this book was given to me and I needed mindless reading.  The book itself was worse than mediocre – it was banal, sloppy, and the main character was not likable at all.  But I did get something important out of it.  Ayn Rand suggested in The Art of Fiction that, as an aspiring fiction-writer, in your reading you should always be asking yourself how you could make a dull story better.  Good premises (in plot-situations, not philosophy) are a dime-a-dozen, but how many times have you been suckered into a movie or book based on a clever “what-if” idea that collapsed into nothing after the basic situation had been presented?  Ayn Rand said that thinking about how those dull plots could have been great is a good exercise for a writer, and might lead to original plot ideas.  I took that advice to heart while reading this otherwise worthless book, and it led to my initial idea for my own novel.  I hate to admit it, but it’s true.

I read Extreme Measures, by Vince Flynn.  I’ve read at least one Vince Flynn book that I liked, but after this book, I can’t imagine how that is possible.  This book was juvenile, predictable, and corny.  It read like a parody of what the angry left might imagine as George W. Bush’s wet dream, but it was serious.  As much as I despise the angry left, I can’t take this kind of garbage seriously.

Sam isn’t the only one who has been reading around here.  I’ve mostly been reading light fiction this summer because we’ve been traveling.  I can never read anything challenging while on vacation, and I do love my thrillers and mysteries.  Here’s a quick summary of what I’ve read in the past few months:

Knockdown, by Dick Francis.  I’m really excited to have found a new author that I like, especially one who has written over 30 books!  (Thanks, S. and D.)  In this book (the first of his that I’ve read), I loved the protagonist and I found the story compelling, but I thought the ending was weak.  The plot-theme was, “Under pressure and threats from dishonest colleagues, an honest racehorse broker struggles to maintain his livelihood, and even his life, without compromising his integrity.” 

Trunk Music, by Michael Connelly.  I’ve read a few of his books now, and I like Connelly, but this wasn’t his best.  His Harry Bosch character is likeable and smart, and the mystery was not bad, but I didn’t find anything about the book compelling.  There’s not much point in writing out the plot-theme here, but it might be something like, “An independent, dedicated detective must solve an apparent mob-hit without the support of his department.”  You get the idea.  If you want to try Michael Connelly, I’d recommend Blood Work or The Poet.  I’m sure I’ll eventually read all of his books just on the strength of those two.

Gone Tomorrow, by Lee Child.  This is Lee Child’s 13th Jack Reacher novel.  These are the only light fiction books that I buy new, in the bookstore, at hardcover prices ($28!).  Jack Reacher is a lot like the Dirty Harry character:  brutal, competent, stoic, a loner, and dedicated to justice.  But Dirty Harry has tremendous inner conflict; Jack Reacher has none.  Stepping into Jack Reacher’s world is like climbing out of a swamp of muddy complexity into a clean, black and white, wide open world.  He has absolute confidence in himself.  He is not fearless, but, to play off of Ayn Rand’s description of Howard Roark, his fear only goes down to a certain point.  Other things I love about these books are the descriptions of the settings, from deserted corn fields to big cities, and the subtle, thematic threads that are often woven into the plots.  The plots in the earlier books are very good, but even with the series weakening a bit, this was the best of my summer reading.  The plot-theme was, “While investigating a mysterious death, an ex-military cop finds that sometimes our friends become our enemies, and sometimes our enemies become our friends.”  If you want to try Lee Child, I’d recommend starting with Die Trying, his second book.

Taking Charge of Your Fertility, by Toni Weschler.  This was recommended to me by a couple of people when I mentioned that Adam and I are working on another baby.  Essentially, this book explains how to read your body’s signals to understand what part of your menstrual cycle you are in, using a process they call the Fertility Awareness Method (FAM).  I didn’t read the parts on birth control, but the rest of the book was very good.  I’d recommend this book to all women as a basic health and wellness text.

Food of a Younger Land, by Mark Kurlansky.  I heard the author discussing this book on NPR and was intrigued.  It’s a collection of writings from the Depression era about the eating habits of people in different regions of the country. I gave it a shot, but I just couldn’t bring myself to read the whole thing.  It had interesting factoids and some funny recipes, but it was just too long for my level of interest.  Check out LB’s review if you want to know more.

Right now I’m reading three more books, and then, in keeping with the back-to-school mentality of September, it’ll be back to the Great Books series for me.

I’ve read a few more books recently so I’ll dash off some quick reviews.  Warning: I’m feeling a bit flippant today.

First, I finally finished the bible.  Actually, I gave up reading the actual bible and turned back to my Complete Idiot’s Guide to the Bible.  I just got so bored with Jesus and the traveling and the healing and all that.  Also, the bible that I have has some strange notations in it that make it very difficult to read.  Every single proper name is written with the dictionary-type pronunciation notation, with stress marks, carats, and the whole works.  Considering the number of names in the bible, this gets quite overwhelming.  All of Jesus’ words are in red which was actually helpful because I never could have figured out who was speaking on my own.  Then, of course, are the paragraph numbers and italicized words.  I had no idea why so many words were italicized in this King James Version, but apparently, these words were added at some later point in translation.  I really do not understand why they would need to do this.  Other works are translated between languages all the time and it is understood that there is no such thing as a word-for-word translation and that the translator must be trusted to convey the proper meaning.

As to substance, here are just a few impressions.  The Old Testament was a lot of fun, but if I was trying to take it as some kind of moral guide I suppose it might have been depressing.  Jesus did not impress me, but I did get a bit more of a sense of how Christianity was new and unique.  The altruism in the New Testament is definitely much stronger, as is the focus on reward and punishment in the afterlife.  Really, what struck me most is how absurd the bible is.  I’ve always held that Christianity is no different than any cult, and reading the bible just gave me more evidence.  Do Christians really believe that Jesus came back from the dead?  I mean, are you kidding me? 

Next, I read a terrible Michael Crichton book called Timeline.  Crichton always has some kind of intriguing premise, and then he lets you down.  This one was worse than usual.  I’m done with Crichton.

I’m sorry to say that I was disappointed in Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express.  I read it for my book club.  It’s a classic, right?  Well, I found the mystery to be dull, the resolution to be somewhat arbitrary, and I didn’t even like Poirot.  I’ve read Christie before and liked her mysteries, but this one left me cold.

So, three duds out of three.  I am glad that I read the guide to the bible, though.  I’m sure reading the actual bible carefully would have given me a clearer picture, but I got what I wanted out of the guide.  Since I started with almost no knowledge of the bible, this gave me an overview.  It was worth the time.  The other two, not so much.

Believe it or not, I’ve read another two books already.

First, I read The Good Earth, by Pearl S. Buck, for my book club.  This one will stay with me for a long time.  It’s not a great book, but the characters and setting were so vivid and unusual that they were memorable.  The book is naturalistic, with events mostly just happening to the main character, Wang Lung.  He is a peasant farmer in rural China in the early part of the 20th century.  He struggles to survive in harsh conditions, and ends up weathly due to hard work, some luck, and reliance on the land as the only source of security.  You might think this sounds like a great premise, but the author’s point is not to show how Wang Lung created wealth for himself, but to show a slice of life – the way real Chinese farmers lived and thought.  She did a good job by presenting a very likeable man whose character was flawed mostly by the cultural norms of the time: the treatment of women as less-than-human, family duty, and no ambition beyond the scope of one’s immediate surroundings.  This book is worth reading and has many interesting issues to analyze such as whether Wang Lung has any independent values, what is the cause of his unhappiness, and to what degree he can be excused for bad behavior rooted in the norms of his culture.  But mostly it is just interesting to observe the world that Buck presents.

Next, for a breather after the intense Good Calories, Bad Calories, I read Night Fall, by Nelson DeMille.  It’s a novel based loosely on the crash of TWA Flight 800 back in 1996.  There were some good aspects to it but overall I thought it suffered from too much testosterone and a very disappointing ending.  I’ve read this author before and I don’t like him much, even though I like the bad-ass-detective genre.  Vince Flynn and especially Lee Child are much better.

I strongly recommend Good Calories, Bad Calories, by Gary Taubes.  If you haven’t heard of it, the subtitle is, “Challenging the Conventional Wisdom on Diet, Weight Control, and Disease,” and that is an understatement!  This book turns everything you thought you knew about nutrition on its head, or at least attempts to. 

First, I want to thank all of you who recommended this book to me.  I have been liberated from my fear of fat!  I knew that I did better eating protein versus carbohydrates, but I still thought I should eat lean meats and low fat dairy products to minimize fat, both for weight control and to keep my cholesterol down.  Even after reading Taubes’ NYT article, What if it’s Been a Big Fat Lie, I didn’t quite get it.  Here is the inescapable truth: there is no correlation between dietary cholesterol and heart disease.  There is not even a clear correlation between the “bad” cholesterol in your blood, LDL, and heart disease.  And a correlation would only be a start anyway – as you know, correlation does not equal causation.  There is a correlation between the “good” cholesterol, HDL and heart disease: the more HDL, the less heart disease.  There are also some good theories for causation that fit with the studies that show this correlation, although they are not proven yet (in my opinion).  Still, nothing supports the conventional wisdom that suggests limiting fat in the diet–simply nothing.  The original correlations have withered away with conflicting data.  The theory has gotten consistently weaker through time.  Read the book – the evidence from the studies could not be clearer.   

Taubes has a much more ambitious purpose than just to debunk the conventional wisdom, though.  His goal is to inspire more formal study of the harmful effects of refined carbohydrates and sugars in the diet.  Overall, I agree that this absolutely needs to be done, but I think, along the way, Taubes ends up making some of the same mistakes he identifies in the low-fat advocates.  He puts too much faith in observational studies and anecdotal evidence.  I was much more convinced by his skepticism than his positive thesis.  To be more specific, I’ll use the author’s summary of his own conclusions based on the evidence he collected, and put in my two cents (in italics):

1. Dietary fat, whether saturated or not, is not a cause of obesity, heart disease, or any other chronic disease of civilization. (Emphasis added.) I’m not convinced that “disease of civilization” is a valid concept but otherwise, I agree with this statement as a general rule for obesity and heart disease. This is where I think Taubes is brilliant and revolutionary.  His meticulous collection and presentation of the relevent studies is impressive and convincing.  

2. The problem is the carbohydrates in the diet, their effect on insulin secretion, and thus the hormonal regulation of homeostasis–the entire harmonic ensemble of the human body. The more easily digestible and refined the carbohydrates, the greater the effect on our health, weight, and well-being. This is where I think he goes too far, but I fully agree that there is enough evidence to treat this as a theory to be studied further. Further, I think it is enough to justify my own effort to reduce my carbohydrate and sugar consumption, but in a much more limited way than Taubes might recommend. I might even call it “probable” that carbohydrates are a big problem in a modern diet. But to call carbohydrates “the problem” is going too far based on the evidence he has presented.

3. Sugars–sucrose and high-fructose corn syrup specifically–are particularly harmful, probably because the combination of fructose and glucose simultaneously elevates insulin levels while overloading the liver with carbohydrates. I don’t think there is all that much evidence for HFCS being even more harmful than sugar (although there is enough to warrant further study), but what impressed me in his discussion of sugar is the mammoth amount of sugar consumed per capita in our country now – I can’t find the figures but it went from approximately 10 pounds a couple hundred years ago to well over 100 pounds per year now. Otherwise, my comments on #2 apply here.

4. Through their direct effect on insulin and blood sugar, refined carbohydrates, starches, and sugars are the dietary cause of coronary heart disease and diabetes. They are the most likely dietary causes of cancer, Alzheimer’s disease, and the other chronic diseases of civilization. I would put the qualifier “most likely cause” on the first set of conditions and “a possible cause” on the latter. Note that Taubes says “dietary cause,” not “cause.” This means: as effected by diet. Taubes does not deny the interaction of genetic factors or other environmental factors. He is speaking strictly about effects from the diet. But, again, with the diseases of civilization! I think that would only be a valid concept if, in fact, the earlier part of this statement was proved correct. In other words, if we did prove that carbohydrates and sugars caused diseases x,y,z, and we found that those diseases cropped up with the introduction of those foods in various diets, then we would have a valid concept. Of course, we’d probably call it something different then, like, “diseases of refined carbohydrates” or something. Still, this is the first place I have ever seen (and I have looked all over the internet, including in academic articles) any evidence at all presented for the “diseases of civilization” concept. It seems to be so accepted that nobody bothers to explain or justify it. But Taubes did give a history of the idea and it was a fascinating and compelling set of anecdotal evidence, but I just don’t think it’s valid to speak of these diseases as a group (and the members in the group are not always clear either). I think that is dangerous assumption-making, and the kind of oversimplification that Taubes warns us about in the earlier parts of the book. (The term “civilization” is inflammatory, from an Objectivist’s point of view, but really it refers to agriculture, which many consider to be the necessary precondition to civilization. It really angered me, though, when Taubes quoted somebody who said that agriculture may have been the biggest disaster in the history of man, or something to that effect. Now that is the kind of anti-man statement I’ve heard when reading about the Paleo diet, at least in implication. If there are indeed “diseases of civilization,” they are still a small price to pay for our modern world! Also, as somebody pointed out in the comments here on my blog, if modern foods are causing health problems, the answer is more science, not reversion.)

5. Obesity is a disorder of excess fat accumulation, not overeating, and not sedentary behavior. Wow! This is another area where Taubes shook up my worldview. You just can’t understand this unless you read the book and the mountains of circumstantial evidence for this statement. I would add a qualifier to this statement that says that obesity “may sometimes be” a disorder of excess fat accumulation…or possibly, “may usually be.” I still believe some (many?) people are overweight because they eat too much, even when their internal nutritional needs are met, but Taubes presents a plausible theory (see details below), there is evidence for it, and it fits with my own experience.

6. Consuming excess calories does not cause us to grow fatter, any more than it causes a child to grow taller. Expending more energy than we consume does not lead to long-term weight loss; it leads to hunger. Again, you’ll have to read the book to understand and believe this. The key is that you can eat and the calories can get stored in your fat tissue without giving your cells the energy they need, so that being overweight is actually a manifestation of internal starvation. See #7. There is much evidence for this, but again, it really is not proven yet, in my opinion.

7. Fattening and obesity are caused by an imbalance-a disequilibrium-in the hormonal regulation of adipose tissue and fat metabolism. Fat synthesis and storage exceed the mobilization of fat from the adipose tissue and its subsequent oxidation. We become leaner when the hormonal regulation of the fat tissue reverses this balance. If you haven’t read the book this probably doesn’t make much sense to you, but it is intelligible in the context of the science presented in the book.

8. Insulin is the primary regulator of fat storage. When insulin levels are elevated-either chronically or after a meal-we accumulate fat in our fat tissue. When insulin levels fall, we release fat from our fat tissue and use it for fuel. Again, maybe. I learned a lot about the role of insulin by reading this book and it was fascinating.

9. By stimulating insulin secretion, carbohydrates make us fat and ultimately cause obesity. The fewer carbohydrates we consume, the leaner we will be. I wish, but again, I only give this a maybe.

10. By driving fat accumulation, carbohydrates also increase hunger and decrease the amount of energy we expend in metabolism and physical activity. Overall, I am pretty confident there is some truth to this theory, but I’m not convinced it is as clear-cut as Taubes suggests and I definitely do not think the evidence warrants cutting out most carbohydrates from one’s diet, regardless of the costs in enjoyment, convenience, and price.

Much of the reason I say there is not enough evidence for many of these claims is that there have never been any real studies testing the hypotheses!  Taubes claims that the fat hypothesis is so ingrained and accepted that to even undertake a test of these theories would be blasphemy, so to speak.  To Taubes’ credit, he calls the ten statements above his “own conclusions” and specifically calls for controlled studies.

I found the early part of the book the most interesting, where Taubes makes it clear that the erroneous fat hypothesis became gospel through a mixture of bad science, inertia, and government interference.  He goes as far as to say:

It’s possible to point to a single day when the controversy was shifted irrevocably in favor of [the fat] hypothesis–Friday, January 14, 1977, when Senator George McGovern announced the publication of the first Dietary Goals for the United States.  The document was “the first comprehensive statement by any branch of the Federal Government on risk factors in the American diet,” said McGovern.

This was the first time that any government institution (as opposed to private groups like the AHA) had told Americans they could improve their health by eating less fat…The document itself became gospel. It is hard to overstate its impact.

Another interesting issue is the concept of public health.  In a chapter called “The Greater Good” Taubes traces how the desire to “achieve the greatest good by treating entire populations rather than individuals” leads to patients who are not motivated to change their behaviors, which in turn leads to “experts” who exaggerate risks and try to create social pressure to change people’s behavior, whether it is good for any particular individual or not.  Recognizing that this is an instance of collectivism at work really helps to understand the succession of “public service messages” we receive about health, which invariably are later revoked.  Think about the campaign against salt, or the outrageous exaggerations of the anti-drug campaign.

I could write even more about this book but I’ll end with my own conclusions.  I do not think that carbohydrates are bad in the way that Taubes does so I suppose that I fundamentally disagree with the book.  (It is, after all, called “Good Calories, Bad Calories.”)  I think the balance is off in the standard American diet–it is slanted too much towards carbohydrate consumption, in part because of convenience (which is a value) and in part (more recently) because of the low-fat campaign.  (Taubes specifically takes issue with the idea of a “balanced diet,” claiming that the concept comes from the errors in the fat hypothesis, but I don’t agree.  Because I do not think there is enough evidence, I default to a principle which fits with all my other knowledge about health, and life in general for that matter.)  For now, I’m not so much reducing carbohydrates as adding fats back into my diet.  For me, that means that carbohydrates are falling away more naturally, since I don’t really like to eat much of them anyway.  I’m really just retraining myself to stop thinking in terms of fat being bad.  Once you see the Big Fat Lie for what it is, you will be shocked at how ingrained it is into your psyche.   I intend to trust my body’s signals more than I have in the past, and to be even more skeptical (if that is possible) about nutritional studies.

I’m still working on the bible, but in the meantime, I’ve read a couple of other books I should note.

I read Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner for my book club and enjoyed it as light fiction.  The main character, Cannie, pines over the loss of a loser-boyfriend and finds that if she is going to recover and have a happy life, she needs to address her self-esteem issues.  Cannie is smart and likable, and the plot kept me interested.  The book had some juvenile elements to it – some hysterical-dumped-female moments and a fantasy trip to L.A. when Cannie sold a screenplay – but I could overlook that.  I’d give it a 7 out of 10.

Based on a recommendation from a friend, I skimmed Sleep: A Groundbreaking Guide to the Mysteries, the Problems, and the Solutions by Carlos H. Schenck to see if it might give me any ideas about my insomnia.  I found that it wasn’t really necessary to read it because my friend had already given me the best advice he had gleaned from it:  regulate your circadian rhythm by using blue light in the morning and blocking blue night at night using special glasses.  I’m going to try my full-spectrum light each morning and see if that alone will help. I won’t rate the book since I didn’t read the whole thing, but it seemed to have a really good overview of the wide range of sleep problems out there.  Interesting stuff!

I highly recommend my latest read: The Difference Between You and Me, by Kathleen De Marco.  It’s set in Hollywood and revolves around two women trying to get into the movie business.  They are indeed, very different women, and their parallel stories combine to create a theme that I can say is almost something along the lines of: the morality and practicality of the Benevolent Universe Premise.  Both women learn that people can be trusted and that achievement is possible – achievement in this world that is practical and spiritually fulfilling at the same time.  Cynicism and second-handedness both explicitly fail. 

The book does not dive deeply into philosophical issues – it stays at the surface level of psychology, but it does it well.  The plot is fun and riveting, and basically lighthearted, which fits the theme perfectly.  

This is the best novel I’ve read in a long time.  I truly loved it.