Author Archives: Zhenya

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Why Not Me? By Mindy Kaling

A logical sequel to reading Kaling’s first book was reading her second. Luckily it had already come out by the time I finished Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns).

Why Not Me? is described as a “second coming-of-age”, and in the modern world it might as well be. Kaling started writing about her life and work experiences in her first book, and she made it clear at the end of it that she wasn’t finished. Which was nice to read – you wanted to hear more from her. “If my childhood, teens, and twenties were about wanting people to like me, now I want people to know me. So, this is a start.”

While still familiarly funny and recognizable in Kaling’s both snappy and flowing prose, the book makes a more paced, thoughtful impression. The simple dedication, “For my mother”, and subsequent poignant chapter are an example of further examining deep and tested relationships that filled the author’s life. Youth and experiences described in Kaling’s first book are still not at all far away, but she is at a different level of depth. She also takes a more detailed look at phases that were mentioned in the prequel.

One of my favourite chapters was A Day in the Life of Mindy Kaling, because it answered the questions all readers probably have when buying a book of this kind. You have a voice, a vision, an identity – how do you do the things you do? How do you see life and work? What is it like beyond what we see of you in public?

But my absolute favourite is 4 A.M. Worries. This is another chapter in which Kaling is plainly vulnerable and simply writes down things that many people can identify with. Perhaps not always at 4 A.M., but Kaling nails describing those deep-seated, sometimes hidden worries so well, you almost think you just spent an hour talking to her.

But even those 4 A.M. worries don’t diminish the sassy, intelligent optimism Kaling exhibits. The coming-of-age does take place, yet again. “And these days, I find I’m caring less and less about what people think of me. Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s my security in my career, maybe it’s because I’m skrilla flush with that dollah-dollah-bill-y’all, but if I had to identify my overall feeling these days, it’s much more “Eh, screw it. Here’s how I really feel.”

Here’s how I really feel: I would read this one again too.

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Seen/Heard/Read

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

The New York Times review quote on the cover, while intentionally good, only makes me disagree with it. Mindy Kaling is not “like Tina Fey’s little sister.” Mindy Kaling is Mindy Kaling.

Kaling herself pokes fun at this in her opening chapter. Answering a probably typical question about her book, “This sounds okay, but not as good as Tina Fey’s book. Why isn’t this more like Tina Fey’s book?”she says, “I know, man. Tina’s awesome.”

One of the most pleasant impressions from this book was of intelligence and humour, which permeated the pages, easily mixing and trading places with each other in Kaling’s written delivery. She is truthful and frank, but, to a reader’s relief, neither coarse nor crude.

Most good memoirs seem to have a common denominator: witty and natural self-deprecation. Which in turn might also be a form of owning being bullied in the past, another thing the authors of said memoirs often have in common. Kaling is able to laugh at parts of her childhood and youth which are, from a matter-of-fact point of view, not funny at all, but she is in control of her narrative and easily shares the laughter with her readers. A description of a horrifying incident had me in unexpected stitches: “The sight of a fat child falling, lifeless, from a high distance into a pond, is kind of an amazing sight, I’ll bet.” More so it wasn’t due to the wording, but to the fact that Kaling was being humorous and still making room for a serious statement in an enganging way.

She pauses plenty of times for self-reflection, and you wait for it every now and then, you come to expect that paragraph that makes you either nod or shake your head, but you understand it. “A note about me: I do not think stress is a legitimate topic of conversation, in public anyway. No one ever wants to hear how stressed out anyone else is, because most of the time everyone is stressed out. Going on and on in detail about how stressed out I am isn’t conversation. It’ll never lead anywhere. No one is going to say, “Wow, Mindy, you really have it especially bad. I have heard some stories of stress, but this just takes the cake.”

Kaling is yet another female voice with a sense of self expressing hope for something. When reading, inner responses range from, “Girl, why?!” to “Yes, same here!” “I’m kind of a mess,” she admits candidly. But a successful, hard-working, driven mess. Taken separately from the TV shows she was involved in, the book in itself also showcases how Kaling creates and carries her own project. She is definitely as chatty as she is known to be, but her chatter is clear-spoken and attention-grabbing.

An ultimately amusing and touching non-fiction read, which I would pick up again.

 

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Seen/Heard/Read

Swan Lake

The swan is dying. I know she is, and so does everyone else! Carefully, daintily she skitters across the stage en pointe. I don’t know where the ballerina ends and the swan begins. Her arms rise and fall, and I almost see white wings fluttering, perhaps in a futile attempt to fly again. Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s music, both tragic and releasing at the same time, glides around her movements, then folds, just as gently as she finally does on the ground.
This past holiday season has breathed new life in to a long-standing interest of mine: classical Russian ballet. Childhood memories have sustained me all these years, memories of fairytale images, breath-taking performances, bordering on the impossible in their light-limbed, dashing perfection. Memories of sweeping, encompassing tragedy, romance, joy, and oh so much drama. Sometimes over the years I saw parts of well-known classics integrated in to other modern ballets. Other times I would listen to that Tchaikovsky score from The Nutcracker on repeat. And then, by chance, I went to see a performance of Swan Lake by the St. Petersburg Festival Ballet, on tour in Hamburg.
There seems to be only one school of such almost mythical ballet excellence, and it was established in the 19th century with a Russian-French fusion that included the enduring choreography of Marius Petipa. His work extended to Swan Lake, among other ballets. It’s amazing to think how long this foundation has lasted, even if individual companies bring their own touch and spin on the story, performance length and costumes. Paired with Tchaikovsky’s soaring score, in each scene the music makes you think that this soundtrack could not have sounded differently, but only like the notes that are seeping in to your mind as you are drawn to the shore of the swan lake.
Some of the most magical parts of Swan Lake are when Odette makes a solo entrance. To me this character has always conveyed strength and a certain resolve within the confines of the swan curse. The expected physical endurance of the dancer for this role has to be carefully combined with so many other characteristics – poise, grace, fragility that doesn’t seem breakable. She has to be able to express fear, curiousity, hope, despair. As in the performances I remember from long ago, that night in Hamburg a true prima ballerina carried Odette along the water. An example of a dance (from a different version):
 
 The music, of course, has accompanied my cultural experience in different ways, considering its enormous influence all over the world, from what I heard on the radio to an animated version based on the story, with a lot of quotable quotes. Anybody remember? (Don’t watch the sequel, it will tarnish the blissful experience if you enjoyed the first one as a kid.)
 
 Back from the brief humorous reminiscence. It is nice to begin experiencing Russian ballet again as an adult. It’s also interesting – you notice things you may not have noticed before. For instance, I remember the story going along until it finished, even if the audience couldn’t keep from clapping explosively after practically every dance. The ensemble from St. Petersburg, on the other hand, paused after every famous scene and seemed to almost expect applause. Which they fully deserved, but it did break up the experience somewhat. The magical feeling I remember is still attached to the ensemble I have seen as a child. Maybe it’s because they had that one absolutely amazing dancer, and so far she has been the only one I’ve seen who got close to reenacting legendary Russian ballerina Galina Ulanova’s wavy, rippling arm movements as Odette dances her swan song before death claims her:
 
 There is only one Ulanova, true, but there are also, luckily, others who take on the role of Odette and bring their own uniqueness to it, within the traditional dance framework that keeps attracting audiences decade after decade.
I hold my breath. Every eye is glued to the stage. The swan lies motionless. And then…well. Let’s leave it at that.
The curtain drops on the swan lake.
Until next time.

 

 

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Hamburg

One Windy Morning

The weather forecast promised a stormy weekend, but things seemed to be not quite so bad when I glanced out the window this morning. In a sudden invigorating show of inner strength I ignored the voice in my head telling me to just stay in bed, woman, and ventured outside with my trusty phone camera. This blog has already made it obvious that I am a little crazy about the Alster river in Hamburg, and today I thought I’d better check it out in the post-Autumn season. I’ve also been burning to go on this favourite long walk for about two months now, but it had to be postponed due to an injury.

It was somewhat blustery outside, which ensured the park and paths around the river were mostly empty and I could snap away contentedly. It’s all the more exciting for me to walk  and take pictures somewhere I’ve been many times, as the challenge to display something new increases. As with many other things in life, you just need to take more time and look closer. Anyway, I’m just a happy amateur, telling herself she’s discovering the melancholy beauty of bare branches against a cloudy sky, enhanced by the rustle of dead leaves in the wind etc.

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Hamburg

Autumn Walk

Something about this year’s autumn in Hamburg is special. An explosively fabulous riot of colours fills parks and streets. Leaves rustle underneath your feet, and while plenty still adorn the trees, contrasts between the dark wood of branches and remaining foliage are becoming stronger. How much more do we have left of this season that is tugging on my heartstrings? My slightly melancholy thoughts about this led me on another walk through one of my favourite parks, Planten un Blomen (previously mentioned in this blog). And this is what I discovered – a world of autumn.

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