Tweak: Growing Up on Methamphetamines by Nic Sheff

As part of the memoir writing class I took last fall, we read David Sheff’s book, Beautiful Boy, which tells the story of watching his promising young son struggle with drug and alcohol addiction. His son’s book, Tweak, tells his own wrenching story. When I read American Psycho a few years ago there were times I was so disturbed I sort of held the book at arm’s length and read through squinted eyes. I had the same experience with Tweak, amplified by knowing what I read was true. Tweak is not a perfect memoir — Sheff acknowledges some mistakes and missteps in the afterword — but it manages to convey the roller coaster of insanity Sheff went through as an addict, a recovering addict, and a relapsing addict. Unlike his father’s book (also very good) which mingles person narrative with facts in a journalistic memoir, Tweak is all raw emotion and craving.

The Liars’ Club: A Memoir by Mary Karr

You think your mom was crazy? No. Not at all. Mary Karr’s mom? Crazy. As in “let me set your shit on fire and come at you with a knife” crazy. And yet Karr somehow still renders her with empathy and tenderness, describing her childhood in East Texas in this, her first, memoir.

Lit: A Memoir (P.S.) by Mary Karr

If The Liar’s Club let me peer into Mary Karr’s east Texas childhood, Lit, her third memoir, dropped me into her development as an adult and a poet. And consequently into her development as an alcoholic, a recovery alcoholic, and a Catholic (albeit one she describes as “not the Pope’s favorite”). I checked out Lit from the library, read it in a couple days, and then ordered my own copy. So much of the story resonated for me, and Karr’s phrasing and ear for dialogue make it a joy to read.

The Death of American Virtue: Clinton vs. Starr by Ken Gormley

A massive tome at 800 pages, Gormley’s account of Clinton’s legal troubles, beginning with Paula Jones and morphing into the Office of the Independent Council investigation, reads like a novel. Contrary to what I believed in high school, when it was all going on (and I was a Young Republican), as well as what I hear today from some more left-ist friends (that Starr was a rapid attack dog out for blood), Gormley tells a very human story. That is, a story where everyone is flawed, imperfect, and probably underestimating their own flaws. Was Clinton an incorrigible womanizer who caused massive wreckage to his life and the lives of those around him by lying? Yes. Did Starr and his office operate at the edge of their charter, with little oversight or control? Yes. Should you read this? Yes.

Django 1.1. Testing and Debugging is split, as the title implies, into two halves: Testing, followed by Debugging. It uses a narrative approach, following the development of a survey application throughout. The book starts with an overview of the stock unittest and doctest facilities in Python. Most of chapters 1 through 3 are devoted to the basics of unit testing, specifically for Model classes. Tracey provides information about Django-specific nuances along with way. For example, I didn’t realize Django ships with a customized doctest module to enabled ELLIPSES support in Python 2.3. Chapter 3 also provides information about how to use fixtures for providing test data, and how to specify those apart from the initial data fixtures developers may already be aware of. Chapter 4 mirrors some of the information found in Django’s testing documentation: the Django TestCase, and how you use it to do basic view testing.

Chapter 5 describes integrating Django with other tools, primarily by example. Tracey discusses how to replace the default Django test runner, and what interface the replacement needs to implement. She also provides a stub example of more “invasive” integration, crafting a new management command that could (possibly) handle code coverage reporting while running the tests. This stub was interesting, but didn’t feel particularly testing related to me. Chapter 5 closes with examples of using the excellent coverage package with django-coverage, and integrating twill into Django tests.

Chapter 6 begins the section on debugging with an overview of the Django settings that impact debugging, and how the development server supports debugging of applications. Chapter 7 follows with a thorough analysis of the development server’s error page, as well as examples of debugging based on the information given. The examples continue to develop the survey application, and introduces what Tracey describes as “typical mistakes”, then describes how to fix them.

Chapter 8 begins to dig a little deeper, and I was happy to see mention of Rob Hudson’s Django Debug Toolbar, an indispensable tool. Chapter 8 also includes details on using the logging module, and how to develop a decorator that marks function entry and exit. I know that I’m all too guilty of using print instead of logging, and it was nice to be reminded of how easy this is.

Chapter 9 was my favorite part of the book. It gives a good overview of using pdb, and then goes on to demonstrate how to use pdb and a shell session to test a race condition and deal with it.

Overall Django 1.1 Testing and Debugging seems like a good introductory book for Django developers who are new to testing (or Django). While many of the debugging examples seemed obvious to me, I suspect that someone new to Django could use this book as an introduction to development and debugging.

The PDF preview of chapter 3 (basic unit testing) looks good, and the table of contents looks like a good overview of basic tools and techniques. I’m particularly looking forward to reading about integrating Django with other testing tools (chapter 5), and using Django with pdb (chapter 9). I’m looking forward to learning more about testing my Django applications — and hopefully how I can form better habits around testing.

Grok 1.0 Web Development takes what as I think of as a customary approach to framework introductions, instructing the user on the basic features of the framework by building an application (in this case a to do list manager) and adding features and refining the code as it goes. This works well for Grok — the amount of boilerplate code is kept to a minimum, by design, so the text can focus on first implementing the feature, then delving deeper to discuss the “best practice” around that tool if needed. For example, Chapter 6 covers ZODB Catalogs (index). It starts by defining the search view and user interface so that the reader has a functioning search tool to work with, then takes a diversion to discuss how one best structures their application to support search. These detailed drill downs are one of the most valuable parts of Grok 1.0 Web Development: they help the reader expand their understand beyond just implementing a feature, to implementing in a way that will be flexible and easy to support in the future. The [somewhat brief] advice on when to use the ZODB versus a relational database is another example of practical advice that I appreciated in the book.

Grok 1.0 Web Development is not perfect. In particular I wish the chapter on testing were earlier (the author’s admonition that it “should not be treated as an afterthought” doesn’t seem to jibe with its placement among the advanced topics towards the end of the book. I suppose I’m also a little sensitive to slogging on Zope 3 and it’s “lack” of agility. I can probably be described as a Zope 3 / Zope component architecture apologist, but it seems the type of agility described is a rather narrow, specific definition. The sprints I did on Zope 3 at PyCon several years contributed more to my understanding and appreciation of test driven development and agile planning than just about anything. Yes, Grok gets it done without the ZCML; I think it’s an exercise for the reader as to whether that’s better or worse for your application.

I think that the Zope derived frameworks such as Grok and repoze.bfg are some of the most interesting in development today. Grok 1.0 Web Development does a great job of introducing Grok to developers who are new to web programming, or who already have some familiarity with another framework. I recommend it to anyone interested in building extensible web applications with a minimum of boilerplate.

[Warning, the following may contain spoilers, although I don't think they would degrade the actual reading experience.]

Invisible begins in 1967, when the protagonist, Adam Walker, meets a visiting college professor, Born, and his girlfriend, Margot, at a party. This chance meeting gives rise to a business deal, the celebration of which is marred by a mugging that turns violent. It isn’t until the second section of the book that we realize the narrator is not Adam, but a college friend, James, now a successful author. James has received the preceding section from Adam much later in their lives, as the first part of a book Adam hopes to write. This book, like Invisible, will have four sections — spring, summer, fall, winter. The sending of pages, the recipients admiration for the original author (James believed Adam would go on to greatness), and the eventual responsibility for publication all echo the story of Fanshawe in The Locked Room, part of The New York Trilogy, one of Auster’s earlier works.

Invisible depicts a progression, both mechanically and for its characters. The characters deal with a push-pull of good (intellect) and evil. The book describes an interesting tension between sex and justice, how they interlock and how we distance ourselves from our actions seeking both. Auster uses different voices to emphasize the distance, telling each part of the story in a different voice. The first section is told in the first person, second in the second person, etc. The fourth and final section is told from the perspective of another person through a diary, with Adam, the protagonist, absent except in reference. As the story progresses, the details fall away in another reflection of this distancing.

Invisible works for me on many levels: as a story, as moralistic exposition, as a demonstration of using the mechanics of writing to further a story. Most importantly, it was enjoyable to read and drew me into a world where the line of what I know and what I think I know is never quite clear.

I’ve read the first four chapters of Grok 1.0 Web Development, and so far there’s a lot to like. It’s the sort of documentation I wish I’d had when I ported the Creative Commons license chooser to Grok¹. I’m looking forward to reading the rest, and will post a proper review when I return from Nairobi. In the mean time, check out Grok, Zope 3 for cavemen.

You can download a preview from Grok 1.0 Web Development, Chapter 5: Forms.

¹ The CC license chooser has evolved a lot over the years; shortly after Grok was launched we adopted many of its features as a way to streamline the code. Grok’s simplified support for custom traversal, in particular, was worth the effort.

I’ve always loved reading. In middle school, I’d sit with a novel in my lap, trying to read during class without getting caught. Going into this year, I wanted to try things that I hypothesized would make me a better writer. One of these things is reading, specifically reading and thinking about what makes a book or story work or not for me. Another of the things is blogging¹, so it made sense to me that I would start to blog what I read. I also wanted to keep track of what I read a little better. Instead of using this as another excuse to build a tool that I’m not sure I’ll actually use, I’m just using tags on the posts: sfpl for books I check-out from the the San Francisco Public Library, fiction for works of fiction, etc. I’d like to use something more structured for this (probably RDFa), but right now I have enough half finished software projects, so tags it is.

And that’s why my blog seems like a book report lately.

¹ I see blogging as a practice: something that I do with regularity, which has immediate and cumulative benefits.

Spooner, Pete Dexter’s latest novel, is not as consistent as The Paperboy, but that does not make it inferior. Spooner tells the story of a boy, Spooner, and his step-father, Calmer. Spooner is not smart, is not handsome, and is primarily talented at causing trouble for others. Pissing in the shoes of others, rolling cars down the hill, and throwing eggs at cars: these are the things Spooner is good at. Calmer, a former Navy man, is good at just about everything, and is particularly good at being patient and trying to rescue those in need of redemption. Like Spooner’s mother, Lily, who sees the world first as a personal affront to her.

Dexter uses language in a way that lets you feel the words in your mouth and taste the idiom and “flavor”; in his hands, the language of the South (Spooner begins in Georgia; The Paperboy in Florida) does not feel impersonated or propped up, but real and present. Spooner contains exposition that made me almost giddy with pleasure, re-reading paragraphs out loud on the bus, looking like a crazy person, I’m sure. For example,

There was in every sport Spooner ever played, on every team he ever joined, an outcast. Some kid who had been plucked from the safety of home and homeroom and tossed, often at the insistence of his own father, out into the world. Unprotected. Often this kid was the fattest, dopiest kid in school, someone who had been it every day of his life on the playgrounds, shunned or insulted one day, beaten up the next, and was now introduced to the rest of his life, which was more of the same except better organized, with the degree of abuse he suffered depending mostly on the mercies of the adults in charge.

I don’t know if I was exactly that kid on the team, but I could certainly pick him out a mile away, and knew enough to keep my distance.

Spooner is told in the third person, but Dexter manages to convey the mental confusion and uncertainty the characters express in a way that reminded me of Paul Auster. Characters try to look at themselves and figure out what really happened: Did they really see what they think they saw? Where was the moment things went wrong? Could they have found another way through that situation? That ability to convey the introspection, uncertainty, and inner monologue of a character gives the story a depth: coming to the end of a paragraph is like coming up from under water, and you’re not really sure where you’ve wound up.

Spooner is not perfect; one section, in particular, doesn’t feel like it “fits” with the rest. As a whole it’s a great story about two characters who care a great deal for each other, an original, expansive rendering of the father-son relationship.

Fordlandia is really three, interwoven stories. The surface story is about Ford’s efforts to push the limits of his autonomous, vertically integrated manufacturing by establishing a stable source of rubber in the Amazon, along the Tapajós River. Rubber was one of the few raw materials that Ford did not own or control production of, and was concerned that a British-initiated cabal could raise prices in the American market. Grandin gives the reader context in the form of Ford’s previous success with Fordism in the US, which is particularly interesting given the decline of the automobile industry of late.

Below the surface of the main story are two others: the story of the people of the Brazilian Amazon, and their exploitation during Brazil’s rubber boom and bust, and the story of Henry Ford’s personal evolution from industrialist to agriculturalist to paternalistic social engineer. As Fordlândia failed to produce rubber, it increasingly became a social experiment, attempting to export an idealized midwestern social structure to the Amazon. Ford and his managers attempted to impose what they believed to be the optimal structure — both social and corporate — on the workers. The results seem to have been directly, inversely proportional to the amount of control they tried to exert. Ford believed he was saving workers from the exploitative system of indentured servitude pervasive during Brazil’s rubber boom, but failed to understand the social dynamics that would dictate whether his new system was actually a success.

I found Ford’s evolution to be a particularly compelling part of the story. His massively integrated manufacturing system helped move people out of small towns and into urban centers. Despite this and his seeming contempt for the past, he idealized Puritan, small town America in the extreme. This story of trying to re-establish something he was responsible for weakening was one of the more compelling parts of the book.

Grandin concludes with an epilogue, “Still Waiting for Henry Ford.” In it he sounds a cautionary note about ongoing attempts to “modernize” the Amazon. The engaging, insightful chapters preceding this allow it to avoid any hints of panic or exaggeration. The Amazon is still waiting for the promises of Henry Ford to come true.

^† While Grandin wisely does not attempt sweeping moral interpretation, it does seem that Ford truly believed he was helping the residents of the Brazilian Amazon. Unfortunately a complete disinterest in understanding their social and economic structure led to sub-optimal results.

The Paperboy could be described as a newspaper procedural: on the surface it tells the story about getting a story; in this case a story exploring the trial of man convicted of murdering a local, racist sheriff, a trial which was, well, irregular. I suppose it makes sense: Dexter was a newspaper man before he was a novelist and screenwriter^‡. But if The Paperboy were only about the news business, I doubt it would have kept my attention.

Throughout the book there are questions as theme: How well do you know the people you love? How well do you really want to? As the story progresses, Jack sees his brother working for what seems like the first time, he initially wonders what’s going on inside his head, and eventually decides that he really doesn’t need to know. That even if he did know, he probably wouldn’t understand. Ward’s approach to the story and to life stands in contrast: his need to get the story “right” goes beyond accuracy, to a compulsive desire for truth and completeness. These two characters drive the story forward in a way I found believable, engaging, and enjoyable.

^‡ Dexter [co-]wrote both Michael and Mulholland Falls; interesting combination.