[stylist] BLP: book review

Mon Dec 5 04:18:32 UTC 2011

Chris,
Perhaps the reason you all don't get things is because I forget to paste
them in!
Here is the one for critiquing. I don't know if the format will come through
right.

36. Ben Lomond Poetry Award				Jacqueline Williams
								1431 W. 7th
Place
								Mesa, AZ
85201
								AZ State
Poetry Society

In the Mists of the Ruwenzories 

Zed, the head man with his rock hyrax hat, weighed each porter's load- 
seventeen pounds-by lifting it. It then went on a head, balanced by a hand.

The leader of ten porters, machete in hand, cleared mountain trails, 
Zed in the rear, we made tracks fast through mats of bamboo, steaming dung. 
Army ants climbed high on our boots, clamped to their death on the laces.
Elephants were near, distressed, moving through the menacing forests.

The elevation increased rapidly. A race for the bottom hut ensued.
My three well-trained British friends disappeared as I gasped for breath, 
my face red and prickled with heat and sweat, but Zed at my back.
They had tea and "biscuits" waiting, along with plans for the next day.

At morning's light, with cameras, sleeping bags high on our backs,
we were led to the rushing river, a swinging bridge aloft with only 
a ladder leading up to it-no rails or handles. Ropes guided us above 
the gorge with slats nailed from the underside. I wished for Tarzan.

The second hut held "debbies" of cement to prop against the doors 
to keep the leopards out on night forays for tasty hyrax. We quickly 
bathed in the river we would have to ford the next morning-balanced 
on rocks, steadied by poles in rushing water up to our frozen armpits.

At the next to the last hut, exhausted we prepped to cross the impossible
bog. 
For over a mile we jumped from one tussock to another striving to keep
our balance-avoid the sucking mud. Finally at a bubbling, sulphurous pool,
spirits warned our porters to stay in a huge rock cave. Safe. From what?

High altitude pneumonia. At the top hut we carefully dried our night
clothes, 
sleeping bags, before the frigid night descended. The others climbed while 
I fed a walnut brown satin rat leftovers from a tin of tuna. That night
soft feet traversed our uneasy sleep. Morning-my knees worked-barely.

With ropes, we clambered up past glacier vistas, approached the Speke
Glacier,
converged at the top where mists cleared just long enough for us to see the
lake-
the pearl of water far down in the distance in the old Congo. Then a rush-
descent. My feet slipped off tussocks causing massive efforts to pull them
free.

(stanza break)
In the next highest hut, I balanced on my right foot to pull off my muddy
pants.
To me, a pistol shot sounded- A bone in my foot-disbelief by all. With no
plan,
Tim laced my boot on tight. In the morning it acted as a splint because of
swelling.
I refused to be carried across the swinging bridge. Zed and Tim stuck with
me.

Phil raced to base camp for reinforcements- Paddy and the spindly little
porters- 
to the bottom hut. Pain. In a sling, tied to a pole like a tiger, a potato
sack holding 
my bum high, Zed, in front, quivering arms, snaked through rocks, down steep
trails often with my head first. A crowd moved to one side of a shed to
allow my privacy.

Instant fame accompanied by dancing, much laughter and ululating, proclaimed
to all,
Memsahib climbed the Mountains of the Moon and broke her foot changing her
knickers.

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Chris Kuell
Sent: Sunday, December 04, 2011 11:58 AM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] BLP: book review

Thank you so much for your kind words, Jacqie. I wrote that for a Powell's 
Books contest--a 700 word essay on a book and how it impacted you. I wish 
you were on the judging panel! There were 10 prizes, but I didn't place.

As an aside, it sounds like you have some great life experiences of your own

to draw from in your writing. I've never been to Africa, and with the health

issues I have now, I'd still be reluctant to travel there. But I have 
climbed onto a glacier, on the Jungfrau in Switzerland back in my early 30s.

I thought I was in good shape then, but after that climb my legs/knees hurt 
for days. Still, it was a magnificent and memorable climb.

Peace,

chris

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Jacqueline Williams" <jackieleepoet at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Saturday, December 03, 2011 3:09 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] BLP: book review

> Chris,
> I am overwhelmed by your review of Kingsolver's, The Poisonwood Bible." I
> also listened to it on tape shortly after becoming blind. You have 
> captured
> its essence in every possible way.
> The reason it meant so much to me is probably three-fold. My husband and
> three young boys spent five years in Uganda, East Africa, in 1967-1971.
> Everything she wrote about was so familiar to me, and the perfection of 
> the
> dialects that the reader used was unbelievable.
> Also, I had some memories of missionaries that seemed to me to be 
> violating
> the indigenous beliefs and practices that were terribly important to the
> culture. They may have meant well, but in my mind, often the results were
> disastrous.
> Additionally, I climbed the Rewenzories in "69, with three companions, a
> teacher, a biologist, and a librarian, all Brits, except myself. We got up
> past the glaciers, and looked down into the Congo where we  saw a lake 
> that
> looked like a pearl.
> The characters you talk of bring to mind many of those I met while 
> traveling
> through the bush of East Africa.
> I would recommend that book to anyone   with a thirst for far-a-way 
> places,
> different    cultures, and a deep understanding of why we must all strive 
> to
> understand differing religious practices, and social customs.
> I hope you submitted that review somewhere. It is certainly worthy.
> With greatest respect for your insight.
> Jacqueline Williams
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
> Behalf Of Chris Kuell
> Sent: Saturday, December 03, 2011 8:27 AM
> To: newmanrl at cox.net; Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: [stylist] BLP: book review
>
> Here's a review I wrote about 5 years ago about a novel which remains one 
> of
>
> my favorites.
>
>
> Jesus is Bangala!
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
> The last decade of my life has been filled with changes. Topping the list
> are the birth of my daughter, the loss of my sight,   a kidney transplant
> and my transformation from research chemist into fiction writer.
>
> I became blind in 1997 from complications of diabetes. I lost my job, sank
> into depression, then began the journey of rebuilding a new life as a 
> blind
> guy in a sighted world.
>
> Like many people, after graduate school, starting a family and climbing 
> the
> lower rungs of the corporate ladder, I found I had little time or energy 
> to
> pursue reading as I once did. Blindness gave me the time and audio books
> gave me the ability to read again. I began by listening to books on
> philosophy and the holocaust, which helped me develop a better life
> perspective. I also rekindled my love for a good story, catching up on
> classic fiction I missed growing up, and giving friends and family a great
> outlet when looking for gifts.
>
> My wife gave me The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver, for Christmas
> in 2000. It was newly out on tape, and I wasn't sure it merited the large
> purchase price. A week later, I wanted to buy it for everyone I knew.
>
> Kingsolver weaves an intricate tale that expertly delves into issues of
> family, race and religion.
> An arrogant Baptist preacher takes his wife and four daughters on a
> missionary trip to the Belgian Congo in 1959. I read with fascination as 
> the
>
> family crumbled along with the Congolese government, and gained insight 
> into
>
> a time and place that is often misunderstood.
>
> I am a fan of the character driven novel, and Kingsolver is a master at
> unleashing the camera of the imagination. It had been years since I'd
> encountered such vivid characters, all of whom fascinated me as they
> struggled in their own ways to survive what life dealt them.
>
> I watched as the loathsome preacher destroyed his family by refusing to
> modify his Western ideas. Sympathized with Orleanna as she struggled 
> between
>
> the pull of her maternal instinct and role as good preacher's wife.
> Kingsolver provides a brilliant depiction of the world of Adah, the twin 
> who
>
> suffered from hemiplegia. One side of her brain defective, she spoke 
> little,
>
> yet entertained profound thoughts, often in the form of palindromes. Leah
> was caught up in trying to please her deteriorating father, and Rachel, 
> the
> tall blonde teenager who fascinated the natives, never saw much past her 
> own
>
> woes.
>
> Recorded books can be great for insomnia, but I found myself listening 
> late
> into the night, unable to stop until the end of the chapter, then unable 
> to
> resist starting the next.
>
> Although I can no longer physically see, great writing fills the screen of
> my imagination. After finishing The Poisonwood Bible, I kept visualizing 
> the
>
> fire ants as they ate their way through the entire village. I heard the
> crazy preacher as he proclaimed, "Jesus is Bangala!" mispronouncing the
> Congolese word for Savior so it meant Poisonwood, a harsher African 
> version
> of poison Ivy. I felt angry at the needless corruption of a simple people 
> as
>
> careless governments played their games. Among the many details of the 
> book,
>
> one particular thought persisted--I'd love to be able to write like that.
>
> In 2001, I began writing short stories. I'm also working on a novel and
> devouring books by great writers to learn how they transform words into
> characters who captivate us, and stories that make us feel deeply what it 
> is
>
> to be human.
>
> My goal is to someday write stories such as the Poisonwood Bible, with 
> well
> fleshed out characters who illuminate us through breathtaking detail and
> attention to the emotional world that we all inhabit in our minds. Stories
> that don't shy away from difficult or even taboo issues. Stories that 
> refuse
>
> to let the reader go away unchanged.
>
>
>
>
>
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