Review
Recommended by Gary of Gary’s World fame, Anthony Bourdain’s phenomenal collection of essays, The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones, allows readers to experience unfamiliar or difficult to access people, places, and – of course! – food vicariously through his sumptuous descriptions and endlessly engaging wit. The preface immediately sets the tone for the rest of the work, relaying his experience seal hunting alongside the Inuit tribe. Bourdain and his generous host family dive into the day’s bounty, “giggling with joy as they [slice] and [tear] into a seal carcass” (ix) as they consume “the raw meat, blubber, and brains” (ix). While many would cringe at the thought of “a thorough sampling of raw seal brain, liver, kidney, rib section, and blubber” (ix), Bourdain recounts the admittedly visceral scene with extremely warm, friendly, and filial overtones – the near-universal ideal of a shared meal as a conduit for individuals to forge stronger bonds with one another. The ability to portray commonalities between vastly different cultures stands as one of Bourdain’s greatest strengths as a writer. As a man who has traveled to locales that most will never see, his writings are a valuable tool for promoting understanding and tolerance.
In addition to his essays, Bourdain also includes the short story “A Chef’s Christmas” as a means of counterpointing his own admitted cynicism. It’s enjoyable and as rough and descriptive as one would expect, but its presence seems out of place. For a man who has led such an intriguing life, fiction comes off as almost anticlimactic – nothing he makes up is nearly as immersive, engaging, or thought-provoking as his nonfiction. Early on, Bourdain issues a clarion call favoring patronage of “the lone-wolf, independent operator down the street” (16) with the ability to “react to neighborhood needs and wants” (16) over “focus group” (16) franchises. Though he simultaneously speaks out against passing laws and regulations on the unhealthier aspects of national chains, citing self-control as the only real solution to combating obesity, heart disease, and diabetes. In addition, he also raises issues of diversity in the kitchen, repeating many of the pro-immigration stances he takes in Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly.
Though his unapologetic sociopolitical views certainly make for provocative reading, Bourdain is at his very best when penning descriptive accounts of places he’s visited and food he’s consumed. He makes even the darker, crime-ridden corners of New York and São Paolo seem intriguing, daring readers to take a risk to wipe away the grime and potentially discover hidden gems. “Warm, ethereal pillow[s] of rice and fish” (193) and tantalizing pints of Guinness served on tap in authentic pubs dance off the page with his signature blend of loving admiration for all of life’s pleasures and “jaundiced” (163) snark utilizing language not entirely appropriate for Junior or Grandma. Not surprisingly, even Bourdain’s most venomous attacks towards the celebrity chef phenomenon carry with them enough humor and buoyancy to counterbalance any barbs. In spite of taking aim at an admittedly easy target, his depictions of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Despotic” (106) – including not-so-subtle allusions to “some chicken-brained Hilton kiddie” (106) – never fail to elicit knowing chuckles.
Bibliographic Information
Bourdain, Anthony. The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones. New York: Bloomsbury, 2007.
Further Reading
How could I not recommend the aforementioned Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly? Without the narrative breaks that inevitably result from reading essay collections, readers can experience Bourdain’s crass elegance with an uninterrupted flow.
~Riot
Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now
October 22, 2008
Review
Maya Angelou’s Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now is a slender essay collection, with each passage almost roughly the same length as one of my reviews. It’s a nice little compilation of her musings, and she offers very brief ruminations on individuality, feminism, spirituality, violence and crime, single parenthood, philosophy, and other topics. She offers small, easily digested bites of ideas and intriguing peeks into her life experiences, but seldom digs too deeply into weighty questions regarding existance. Because of this, I think it would be a perfect read for waiting room visits or short jaunts on the Metro or light rail - thought-provoking enough to stimulate asking questions of your own, but light enough so you don’t get so bogged down you miss your stop.
My personal favorite essay from the collection is entitled “Extending the Boundaries.” After recieving a local award, Angelou sits alone in the sort of bar where patrons “[participate] in conversations which ranged in subject matter from whether China should be allowed in the UN to the proper length of a micromini skirt” (107). A staunch, intelligent feminist and devoted single mother, Angelou drunkenly reflects on how an empowered, successful woman such as herself can still feel empty inside without male companionship. It is an intriguing concept that seems less and less paradoxical after multiple readings; the true nuances of these emotions are very rarely explored in literature. In the hands of a consummate writer such as Angelou, readers can sense and perhaps commisserate in her struggle to come to terms with ideals which are not as mutually exclusive as many think.
Another favorite of mine was the story “Getups,” in which Angelou discusses her unorthodox fashion preferences. She takes great pride in her body and appearance, and elects to envelope herself in clothing that is flattering and modest, but still somewhat eccentric in the eyes of the general public. Her son, however, is still going through the youthful phase where he “desperately need[s] to conform” (55) and pleads with her to cease visits to his school at the risk of embarassment. Angelou reacts not with offense, but an understanding of how teenagers operate and graciously compromises with him in a manner that benefits them both and does not stifle her individuality.
What I enjoyed the most about Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now is Angelou’s prose. I have read some of her works before, and always thought of her as a sterling example of a writer who utilizes such simple language to convey such grandiose ideas. Her eloquence comes not from an extensive and impressive vocabulary or complicated sentence structure, but rather from the heart and soul she pours into every word. That is the essence of a true writer – no matter the complexity of the words or phrases, the point gets across in an evocative, sometimes provocative, manner.
Bibliographical Information
Further Reading
I probably would not recommend it as the first work of Maya Angelou’s for new readers. It is a nice collection to be certain, but best read as a supplement, if not a postscript, to her masterful autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Many of her experiences as a child and teenager obviously factor into her carriage and philosophies as an adult, and it is interesting (to me, at least) to trace how her past connects and intersects with her present.
~Riot
