Beautiful Mag

One of my favorite online magazines, and one of the few I subscribe to, is BeautifulMag.  Originating in Paris, they are probably best known for their outstanding and tasteful pictures, accompanied by informative articles.

OUR CUBAN SPECIAL COMES TO AN END. WE HAVE TRAVELED TO HAVANA AND LEARNED ABOUT ITS HISTORY. WE HAVE TASTED A BIT OF MUSIC AND SENSED THE BEAUTY OF THE ISLAND THROUGH THE WORK, THE WORDS AND THE EYES OF PEOPLE LIKE KEVIN SLACK AND ANDREAS DELROSI. WE EVEN WANDERED TO THE HIDDEN GARDENS OF LOS JARDINES DE LA POLAR. TODAY WE FINISH IT WITH THE ULTIMATE FREEDOM: LOS CHICOS DESNUDOS, CUBAS NAKED BOYS.

OUR CUBAN SPECIAL COMES TO AN END. WE HAVE TRAVELED TO HAVANA AND LEARNED ABOUT ITS HISTORY. WE HAVE TASTED A BIT OF MUSIC AND SENSED THE BEAUTY OF THE ISLAND THROUGH THE WORK, THE WORDS AND THE EYES OF PEOPLE LIKE KEVIN SLACK AND ANDREAS DELROSI. WE EVEN WANDERED TO THE HIDDEN GARDENS OF LOS JARDINES DE LA POLAR. TODAY WE FINISH IT WITH THE ULTIMATE FREEDOM: LOS CHICOS DESNUDOS, CUBA'S NAKED BOYS.

See what I mean?  Kinda makes you want to go to Havana, and now that we have a President that can think rationally, maybe some of us Americans will able to do just that.

Fascinating, those darker shades.

Beautiful covers Art:

Entertainment:

Fashion:

Sports:

Travel:

BeautifulMag covers what’s going on in the world today, in a way that will delight you.  Check them out at BeautifulMag.

Middlesex

I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.

So goes the opening sentence of Middlesex, a novel by Jeffrey Eugenides.

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From Jeff Turrentine, The Los Angeles Times: “Eugenides has had nearly a decade to relax, and the happy result is a novel that’s as warm, expansive and generous as its predecessor wasn’t. (…) Among many things, Middlesex is the author’s love letter to a city that could probably use a few more. (…) Middlesex isn’t just a respectable sophomore effort; it’s a towering achievement, and it can now be stated unequivocally that Eugenides’ initial triumph wasn’t a one-off or a fluke. He has emerged as the great American writer that many of us suspected him of being.”

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A review by Debbie Lee Wesselmann on Amazon.com:

From the first sentence of Jeffrey Eugenides’ MIDDLESEX, I was hooked by this complicated tale of a young girl who grows into a man. The story of Cal Stephanides begins generations before his birth, in a small Greek village, when his grandparents succumb to incestuous desires. Immigration to the United States keeps Desdemona and Lefty’s secret intact – until their grandchild Cal reaches puberty. Told with both humor and earnestness, the story grows more engaging with every page.

The brilliance of this book emerges not from the superficial story of a hermaphrodite but from the context – historical, scientific, psychological, political, geographical – of Cal’s birth and subsequent rebirth. MIDDLESEX is about much more than gender confusion. Cal’s mixed gender can be taken as a metaphor for the experience of first- and second-generations born of immigrants.

While the context of this story provides the substance, the characters provide the vibrancy. Cal emerges as a reliable and likeable narrator. He is sensible, good-humored, and intelligent. The spectrum of his experiences provides a smooth transition between childhood and adult, enabling the reader to embrace the character as both male and female. Cal’s family is affectionately portrayed, even with their failings. (Cal’s brother, Chapter Eleven, annoyed me with his name, a running gag, but even he ended up a full-blooded character by the end.)

Eugenides has written an expansive, compelling book. Despite its length of over 500 pages, the novel is not a slow read – unless the reader wants it to be, to make it last. Accessible, intelligent, well-paced and plotted, it should appeal to a wide range of readers.

I can’t recommend this novel highly enough.

Mother nature can be an inventive force, even cruel (considering the eye-of-the-beholder). In Cal’s case, the narrator and main character in Middlesex, he was born a hermaphrodite.  After his confused early years, he learned to accept his condition, even cherish it, though it led to challenges most of us can’t begin to imagine.

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Cal tells us his family history which leads to why he emerged in the world with characteristics of both sexes.  He tells us about his emotional and confused early years, his challenges and trials, his failed romances, and then how he came about to accept his unique fate.  It’s a must read for anyone looking for something different.

Johnny Feelwater’s Sexual Revelation

The Strange Haunting of Johnny Feelwater is a story about a thirty-two year old man who realizes, during a onslaught of astonishing circumstances, he has set his stride on the wrong path.

james-wu-sashaLike countless men like him, another man lives inside his head, a man he can’t allow himself to be, a confused identity shunted into the darkest corners of his consciousness.  He had married Marrilee, started his career, took on a mortgage–he was normal.

Then, one morning he innocently steps into another world, Cassandra and Julian Mott’s world, and everything begins to unravel, his career, his marriage, his peace-of-mind.  He comes face-to-face with the other side of his sexuality.  After lifting his legs and resting them on another man’s shoulders, nude and vulnerable, he realizes, if he is to get his life back, he needs help.

Johnny knows that a man called Dr. Brian Fowler is the one who can help him, the one man that can deal with Cassandra and Julian Mott; but Fowler is in Africa, where he goes every summer to donate his time to the people of Kenya known as the Maasai.  For Johnny, there’s no choice other than to exhaust what remains of his finances and journey to Africa, where he finds answers to his unmasked questions.

Johnny’s senses are overwhelmed during his stay with Bryan Fowler in the Maasai village, the human smells and visuals, humanity’s oneness with the earth.  His imagination is set ablaze and his self-recognition begins to blossom as he lives among these dynamic people and sleeps so close to Brian in the tiny confines of a Maasai hut.

One day he and Brian attend a traditional ceremony, where the two of them sit on a knoll with the village elders, watching the festivities.  Here is what he sees:

(From The Strange Haunting of Johnny Feelwater)  . . . It was a time of waiting.  Puffing their pipes, Johnny and Brian continued to observe the activities from their positions on the knoll.  Johnny’s reprieve held.  There were no omens in his hands.  Locking his fingers around a knee, he sat comfortably, the pipe clenched in his teeth, his shoulder and neck muscles tension free.  While the elders next to him spoke among themselves of their important concerns, Johnny continued his private study of Maasai contentment.  He watched young mothers with newborn infants at their breasts, tiny babes engulfed within loving arms and gazes.  A toddler emerged from a forest of long legs, wailing.  So distraught was his small face that Johnny’s heart felt a pang.  The child had lost his mother, not yet old enough to know there was no safer place on God’s earth he might be.  The younger men, the warriors, stood in small groups, conversing and comparing adornments and body paint.  From them came no shortage of teasing; for it seemed where go the warriors, so go the girls and the catcalls and flirting.

Johnny had been watching one of them in particular.  A young man who would be king, Johnny surmised as he leaned forward and stared, resting his forearms on his knees, letting his hands hang limp.  The warrior, shouldering no more than twenty-five years of life’s trials, stood an inch or two taller than his companions; a stature enhanced by a magnificent, horseshoe-shaped headdress, feathered with stuffed orioles and kingfishers.  Flaring nearly as wide as his shoulders, he wore it like a crown.  Chalky white paint formed a raccoon-like mask around his eyes and strands of beads crisscrossed his forehead.  Set in the perfect symmetry of a longish, oval-shaped face, his eyes shone with self-confidence and arrogance, his nose long and broad with large nostrils, his lips a voluptuous, omnipotent smirk.  Tied at the back of his neck, a bright red cape draped down over his torso to his knees.  It hung loosely open down the back, which allowed shadowy hints of rich black skin and the masculine contours of his lower back and buttocks. Continue reading