"Orphan Train" by Christina Baker Kline

Set in Minnesota and Maine in the 1930s and 2011, respectively, Orphan Train weaves together the stories of two orphans, living in the same town, two generations apart. When Molly, a seventeen year old foster kid, steals a book from the local library she finds herself doing community service in an elderly woman's attic. Day after day Molly, and the 90-year-old Vivian sift through boxes of Vivian's things, purportedly to clean them out. In reality, the attic holds a Pandora's box of memories, memories that are not thrown out or donated, but neatly folded, boxed, and labeled while stories are told.

Vivian tells Molly of her journey from Ireland to New York City, her life in the tenements and the tragic night when she became an orphan. She was packed on an orphan train bound for Minnesota. In Minnesota she is at first taken in by a couple who forces her to work as a seamstress in the family business and sleep on a cot in the closet. When the Depression sinks their business, Vivian, then called Dorothy, becomes a "mother's helper," little more than a slave of the Grotes who are a poor and shiftless family living outside of town with too many kids. Her only solace is school and her teacher Miss Larsen. Miss Larsen ultimately saves her from an abusive situation and finds her a kind and upstanding family to take her in. Her name is changed to Vivian and she is gainfully employed at the couple's general store. She gradually builds the business into a thriving enterprise.

As Vivian tells her stories of loss, heartbreak, and ultimately, second-chances, she is at the same time offering a second-chance to Molly. Molly in turn, uses the internet to help Vivian track down and reconnect with long-lost family. In the process this unlikely friendship between a 90 year old woman and a teenager sporting the Goth look becomes a serendipitous chance at redemption for the both of them.

What I enjoyed about this book was its wholesome, neatly packaged conclusion. Every once in awhile you need a book like that to remind you that there is good in the world, that the quest for unconditional love and "family" can be found - even when that family is unconventional or unrelated. There is nothing quite so hopeful as the story of an unloved waif, taken from the streets to a warm and clean home where goodness and compassion gradually build into love.

"The Circle" by Dave Eggers

The Circle is a hyperbolic, yet strikingly haunting cautionary tale of our society's rapid retreat of from privacy. The novel tells the story of an ambitious young woman named Mae who has just landed a job at a groundbreaking tech giant called The Circle. At first I thought the "the Circle" was meant to represent Google, but apparently The Circle is the next best thing. The Circle has taken over and filled the gaps. It has given all individuals one user account through which all social, business, and even domestic transactions occur. (Think Google+Amazon+Facebook+Twitter+LinkedIn+Pinterest+etc = The Circle.) The Circle is everywhere and its rise to preeminence makes it a happening place to work.

The problem is that The Circle is everywhere. Innovators at The Circle have created ingenious mechanisms to make every facet of life not only controlled by The Circle, but also public. Politicians go completely "transparent," meaning that they wear a camera around their neck at all times so that all their interactions are live-streamed and broadcast to the world. Their followers, or "watchers," can comment on their every move from the cookie they ate for breakfast to the approval granted in high-level committee hearings. These inexpensive cameras can be surreptitiously hung in homes, on street corners, and just about anywhere humans frequent. Thus, any crime, any instance of domestic abuse, any call for help can be immediately seen by millions and attended to almost immediately. Genealogy can be tracked back to the Middle Ages, dredging up family history best left in the past. Online identities are not concealed. Since everyone's Circle account is tied to their credit card real names always appear in comments and postings. While ridding the internet of anonymity has indeed made users more civil, what we find is a world where expectations for communication have drastically risen. Friends take offense at the slightest delay in "liking" a post, accepting a invitation, or signing a petition.

This is not some futuristic dystopia where the government is imposing strict surveillance on it's people (though it would be easy for the government to do this if it wanted to, since The Circle has all the information) No - this is a society in the not-to-distant future where individuals choose to give up their privacy. They choose to be constantly harangued by companies looking for product reviews, choose to publicize their every moment by posting videos and photos, choose to give up hours of sleep following others' lives and commenting on their day-to-day activities. This is not a cautionary tale against the NSA and drone surveillance. It's a cautionary tale warning us of the dangers inherent in our voluntary relinquishment of privacy.

The Circle's ethic centers around the belief that secrets are bad. 'Has anything good ever come from hidden knowledge?' The Circles creators, called the Wise Men, ask.   If people are not doing something shameful, why should they hide? The Wise Men believe that the concept of privacy was created to mask wrongdoing. Mae slowly falls into their clutches. Like most of the other young, innovative minds at The Circle, she cannot resist the pull of group-think. Total transparency, thus total accountability, is the goal. Privacy and solitude are viewed as shameful and suspect.

The Circle and its many followers certainly have their opponents. Yet these people are seen as backward, unenlightened and antisocial. Mae, in her first days at The Circle, proves to be an exceptional employee, but is chastised repeatedly for not being social enough online, and for not attending The Circle's plethora of evening and weekend functions. Mae, ever the people-pleaser, then embarks upon an exhausting array of online and offline activities. Working by day, managing her Zing feed (The Circle's version of Facebook/Twitter) and hopping between Circle social events in the evening, her schedule is so packed that she doesn't even have time to go home. Rather, she takes advantage of The Circles dormitories, offered free of charge and often stocked with food, clothing, and personal items consistent with the preferences gleaned from each inhabitant's online activity

It gets even creepier. Soon there is talk of mandating every U.S. citizen to have a Circle account and use that to mandate voting. Thinking optimistically, Mae and the Wise Men believe this will ensure full voter participation and allow for politicians to more closely represent the people - or even do away with the need for politicians altogether as society moves toward a direct democracy This is where the book "jumps the shark." Once the story line moves out of the realm of company policy and social conformity to rewriting the Constitution, it all becomes a little absurd.

Fortunately, the shark jumping didn't occur until near the end, so I would conclude by saying that overall Dave Egger's book was an enjoyable read and made valid points about how often we voluntarily put our security and privacy in jeopardy. I revel in the irony of it all. I chuckle to think about how our nation was in an uproar last summer with the Edward Snowden revelations, yet these same uproarious citizens give up a plethora of data and freedom every day through Gmail, Facebook and Twitter. How important is our privacy anyway? I understand the principle is enshrined in the First Amendment, and no one should be forced to give up their privacy. But just like Mae was not forced to attend Circle social functions and post about her every waking moment, the pressure to be a contributing part of her environment essentially drove her into the clutches of full transparency. While the "Wise Men" of the Circle contend that transparency makes us more honest and would argue that the watchful eyes of millions reduce crime and corruption, it also makes our lives infinitely more stressful. We are always putting ourselves out there to be judged, criticized, and yes, even applauded. In doing so we are constantly molding and remolding ourselves into the image of our watchers.  So not only does this foster homogeneity, but it put us dangerously into the clutches of others. Our constant quest for approval, for attention, for validation through the comments, the likes, and the shares, reveals our true insecurity. And if we are seeking security from the "likes" of our followers, we are on very tenacious footing.

While few would deny there are benefits to social media used prudently and in moderation, Eggers' book firmed my resolve to more consistently put the computer away, close out of Facebook, and seek more meaningful avenues of spending my time. How often does social media shift my focus away from the ones whose approval truly matters. There are only a handful of people on this earth whose opinions should really hold any weight. And really, the only "follower" who knows my every move and every thought is God. Ultimately, it's His approval that matters most. So why spend all this time trying to impress others? He already knows I'm not impressive. He created me to depend on Him; but he also gave me gifts and resources that I can use to serve Him and others. Sometimes those gifts do involve social media (i.e. blogging to hone my writing skills) but other times they require my mind and my heart to be totally offline and unplugged.

"Looking for Alaska" by John Green

I'll have to admit, Looking for Alaska was a bit of a letdown after The Fault in our Stars. The characters seemed pretentious and the plot was rather cliche. Though it was a stimulating read, I was, all things considered, rather unimpressed.

The story had the air of a A Separate Peace, The Chocolate War and Dead Poet's Society. The book is not only set in a boarding school, but all the standard conflicts are present. The rich kids maintaining the status quo always antagonize the purer, deeper outcasts whose revolutionary thinking makes them the protagonists. Likewise, this boarding school novel features pilfered cigarettes, alcohol, and an annoying preoccupation with challenging the seemingly inept authority figures. (Maybe I feel this way because I'm a teacher and I don't like those who challenge my authority.) As in other stories, the boarding school is a pressure cooker of external and internal conflicts that drive one particular student to suicide. The main characters grapple with this death in their own ways and ultimately seek answers to the great existential questions facing humanity.

Looking for Alaska is, at its core, a novel of teenage angst. The four main characters are intelligent, yet underprivileged outcasts. Their otherness gives them a keen disdain for the wealthier boarders who retreat to their luxury homes at the end of classes each Friday. Their social group really centers around Alaska, a rebellious, moody, and promiscuous femme fatale who seems to exude an aura of "mystery" - at least according to the hopelessly enamored boy narrating the story. Though Alaska and I share a lot of the same thoughts on male dominance and a similar abhorrence for patriarchy, that's about where the similarities end. To me, Alaska seems like an overly emotional attention-whore who is obsessed with with breaking the rules simply for the sake of breaking the rules. There is really nothing mysterious or alluring about her.

In addition to being underwhelmed by the title character, I also felt like too much of the so-called plot simply centered around their ridiculous pranks and flagrant violation of rules. The conflicts that arose were all conflicts the teens themselves created through their own stupidity or narcissism. Though the characters' drunken rants were peppered with all sorts of philosophical quandaries and a somewhat odd preoccupation with famous last words, I didn't find any of it particularly pithy. Essentially, these kids needed to grow up and stop taking themselves so seriously. (That was not one of the conclusions reached by the end of the book, if indeed conclusions were reached.) In short, I felt that by writing a book about people who take themselves too seriously, John Green gave those types of people the time of day that they didn't deserve.

"My Age of Anxiety: Fear, Hope, Dread, and the Search for Peace of Mind" by Scott Stossel

Imagine a personal memoir, crossed with a college textbook, crossed with a doctoral thesis. That is precisely what you get in My Age of Anxiety. It is a book you read to learn - and learn I did.

Anxiety, in all its forms, is no stranger to 21st century America. More people than you realize are on drugs for anxiety, depression, or both. In his book, Atlantic Monthly editor (and nephew of TV journalist John Stossel) takes us through his harrowing journey through many forms of therapy while wrestling with the pressures of life and navigating the enigma of his anxiety. Stossel has been plagued with phobias since his childhood. Emetophobia, or fear of vomiting, seem to be his most pressing battle, though many others invade his psyche and leave him chained to a series of often debilitating rituals. In addition to illuminating his readers on his own personal struggles, Stossel traces the history of mental illness, including the different theories that each generation has held towards "neuroses."  He tries to offer some explanation as to why this particular epidemic is sweeping our society. Is it really the drug companies manipulating us to buy their placebos? Or is there a chemical/biological component to anxiety and depression? Is it genetic? Or, as Freud would attest, does anxiety arise purely out of our upbringing (and our repressed sexuality)?

There is no easy answer because the brain is a bewildering realm. Many studies in recent years have shown the presence or absence of certain hormones and chemicals can leave one predisposed to anxiety. Yet, as the book seems to conclude, just because one is born with a "worry gene" does not mean that person will definitely have an anxiety disorder, just as having a genetic predisposition to breast cancer does not mean one will necessarily end up with the disease. Stossel delves into a host of studies covering everything from brain chemistry to parenting. Perhaps the most interesting tidbit I gleaned involved the neurotransmitter, Neuropeptide Y (NPY) a chemical that potentially creates resiliency to stress and regulates emotion. Those with higher levels of NPY tend to adapt better to stressful situations. For instance, a study of Navy Seal trainees, revealed that those who graduated from the program also had high levels of NPY. Those who did not make the cut generally had lower levels of NPY in their system. Similarly, studies of NPY have been shown to predict which veterans will end up getting PTSD after serving time on the battlefront. Those with lower levels of NPY are more shaken by war trauma while those with high levels of the neurotransmitter tend to have generally lower levels of empathy, engage in more sexual promiscuity, and are generally more aggressive. However, do not show up at the VA complaining of PTSD symptoms.

This of course led me on my own tangent of reflection. As a historian, I wonder if perhaps the rise in PTSD in the past century is in part a consequence of the wartime drafts and the modern benefits offered to servicemen.  Perhaps some men are just not biologically cut out to be the brave, battlefield warriors epitomized by traditional patriarchy. Some have lower levels of NPY, and arguably, make better husbands, but not great soldiers. However, did the wartime drafts of the 20th century force hundreds of thousands of passive young men into the field? Does the free college tuition, health care benefits, and other perks draw people into the military who would be better suited for a desk job?  Generals Patton and Marshall claimed that modern society was mollycoddling our young men by catering to their mental illnesses. But could it be that we have forced young men to kill people when they were biologically ill-suited for the job?

I also resonated with the studies that discussed how high serotonin levels correlated increased levels of extroversion. People that are brooding and depressive tend to have lower levels of serotonin and prefer to be alone or with smaller groups of people. While this does not always correlate to anxiety disorder, social alienation and anxiety/depression often go hand-in-hand because the same brain chemicals influence both tendencies. However, those same depressive or anxious introverts tend to rate higher on intelligence tests, and often achieve unique and creative feats. Studies have also shown that these mildly obsessive types make the best employees. Furthermore, the great artists and intellectuals of history have often been depressive or plagued by anxiety. Charles Darwin himself, whose theories help us understand how some of these traits have evolved, was plagued by such severe anxiety that after returning from his voyage on the Beagle he never left his home again. However, staying home allowed him to complete the Origin of Species. Many other greats had the same experience. Their phobias and introversion left them tied to the house, but allowed them the time and the peace that they needed to complete the great masterpieces of our age.

So if you wonder why I sit home knitting on Friday nights, and spend most evenings and weekends reading books and blogging about them, well, now you know. My brain doesn't simply doesn't have enough juice to party. Maybe one day all that staying home on weekends will add up to a literary masterpiece. For now though, I've got some pretty great homemade sweaters.