rebecca ruiz

I like to read. I also like to share what I read. I do a lot of that on Twitter. But there are some things that just can't be summed up in 140 words. So I'd like to use this space to share my thoughts on long narrative magazine articles, compelling news stories and great books. 

Updates to come soon for: Rebecca Solnit's A Paradise Built in Hell, Dave Eggers' Zeitoun, and Margaret Atwood's The Year of the Flood. I didn't mean to read three different books about some form of apocalypse back-to-back, but that's just what happened.

Sick in the Head: Why America Won't Get the Health-care System it Needs, Luke Mitchell, Harper's

Even though I consider myself a bit of a wonk, I do sometimes struggle to read the long magazine piece that lacks a narrative arc and instead is one long discussion. But this article combines some nice scenes of health care advocates discussing the nation's pitiable health care system with a compelling analysis of what's fundamentally wrong with our policies. Unfortunately, it's behind a pay wall -- or you can shell out $6.95 for the hard copy. 

Sex, Sleep, Eat, Drink, Dream: A Day in the Life of Your Body, Jennifer Ackerman

This narrative conceit of this book -- that we're learning about how the body's biological imperatives change as the day progresses -- makes for great reading. Like Lehrer, Ackerman is skilled at translating clinical research into something the average reader can understand.

How We Decide, Jonah Lehrer

I just finished this concise and engaging book on the neuroscience of decision-making by science writer Jonah Lehrer. I'm writing a story pegged to the release of his book and highly recommend it if you're at all curious about the latest research on the brain and decision-making. Lehrer has interwoven years of research with compelling real-life anecdotes about how we make decisions in the most mundane and harrowing of circumstances. 

Daring and Disturbing, Sanford Schwartz, The New York Review of Books

I am an admirer of the artist Louise Bourgeois and recently saw her retrospective at the Guggenheim. I was still pondering some of the pieces when I read this essay. The author likens Bourgeois' art to "descriptions of the psychic warfare she experiences" and gives a great deal of insight into her impulses. I felt sort of enlightened after reading it and recommend it even if you've never seen Bourgeois' work.

Chef on the Edge, Larissa MacFarquhar, New Yorker

MacFarquhar's profile of chef David Chang, of Momofuku fame, is just pure fun. Laced with profanities and meltdowns, the profile is a study of why this immensely talented chef is so neurotic and what that means for his growing empire. 

At first this page was dedicated to the written word, in print or online. But I had a brief moment of inspiration to include things I'm watching and listening to as well. As much as I love to read, I also love the visual and audio mediums. So in this space I'll be sharing mini-reviews of television shows, music, movies, video clips and other visual/audio things that I think are worth your time.

Updates to come soon. 

I had wanted to watch this film last summer, but couldn't bear the thought of a depressing winter movie in the middle of August. I finally watched it and can't recommend it enough. It's a tragic portrait of two very different women struggling against forces large and small. They turn to human smuggling to support their families, and even though the moral quandary of smuggling is never fully confronted by either character, it's a provocative and moving film that shouldn't be missed.

Conan O'Brien and the Too Serious Foodie

I've been known to go on and on about food, but I'm also the first to mock my own obsession when it becomes too precious. That's why I absolutely could not stop laughing at this clip of Conan O'Brien savaging his straight man (I hope) associate producer who takes his food travels a bit too seriously. Start at about 6:50. 

As a piece of film-making, I actually found this recently-aired PBS show to be a bit lacking. The narration was a bit over the top for my taste and the transition from and to each character's story was a little jarring. But those stylistic qualms aside, I thought this hour-long piece on the history of polio in the US was a good primer for those with little knowledge of the epidemic's origins and how it was eventually eradicated.  

The Last Word: Odetta, The New York Times

In the interest of full disclosure, I need to say that the producer, shooter and editor of this short biographical video is my fiance, Patrick Farrell. That bias aside, I can objectively say that this account of Odetta's life is beautifully crafted and offers a striking portrait of the singer soon before she died.

Abnormally Addicted to Sin, Tori Amos (a mini-review)

Some of you may have noticed that I've followed the career of the musician Tori Amos. I've interviewed her and written different stories over the years (here and here), but never the wandering profile I've always wanted to do. Though many Amos fans have dropped out over her 17-year career, I've remained a loyal listener even when some of her albums weren't quite deserving of rapt attention. I've continued to give her space on my iPod (and my money) because I find her music refreshingly confrontational. Or put another way, I always think about something new and interesting when she releases a new album, even if I don't always like the sonic arrangement that delivers the message.

That brings me to Abnormally Addicted to Sin, her latest album. It's a fractured record that tries to take on the destructive force of institutional power (think politics and gender) and personal dramas (think love triangles and poisonous affairs). The music itself often references Bowie and Portishead in heavily-produced tracks that I didn't find very memorable. I keep revisiting a few songs, mostly Give, Fire to Your Plain, Police Me and Fast Horse (streaming here), but even what's lacking in those songs prompts me to think more about the craftsmanship on the record.

Amos has never been a straightforward storyteller, but when her lyrics might have been cryptic to a fault (what is a colonel dirtyfishydishcloth anyway?), her command of the piano and careful arrangements often led the listener to a set of complex emotions. And with a just a bit of further investigation, listening to an Amos song can be like falling into a rabbit hole where it's possible to go from the Gnostic Gospels to the Good Red Road to shipwrecks in three songs.