Great Lakes Reader

Margie blogs and tweets during Bears game!

The Bears game was sooo bad that I decided to spend my afternoon on this blog post instead. We'll be putting it in our next newsletter to pump up the publicity, and I'll send out a tweet tomorrow morning. Just the Bookstore blog.

excerpt from Life on a Wisconsin Lake, by Margie Petersen White

Our sense of being lucky on the lake sustained us in difficult times.  One very sad summer, my mother spent her last days of life floating on the lake.  She had a brain tumor, and by the time August came, she could barely walk or speak.  My dad would lift her into her floating chaise lounge, complete with cup holders in each armrest, and she would spend hours being rocked gently by the waves.  The days were gloriously hot and dry and sunny, the kind of days you would want if you had only a few left on earth.  The lake was perfectly behaved, it was deliciously warm, and the waves were neither too big nor too small.   I don’t remember any pea soup that August at all.  At the end of each of these last days, my mother would exclaim with utterly pure gratitude:  “That was another ‘triple A’ day!” The lake took care of her and we were thankful.  Later, we would trust the lake to cradle my mother’s ashes in its warm, sweet embrace.

From Deb Covey's essay on Ohio

Crackling fire and a clear, dark sky spotted with thousands of stars. A gathering of cousins ranging in age from two to sixty- two, who have arrived at this place from several corners of the country, various careers and family configurations, to simply enjoy one an other’s company. 

We recounted tales of summer vacations at the lake perfecting synchronized swimming  routines under a cloudless, bright blue sky, while our parents fished, went frog gigging, or fascinated us with their waterskiing talent.  The absolute randomness of our childhood days inspired us to ruminate on how busy our own children’s summers were, filled with swim teams, soccer games, basketball camps, and gymnastics, and how busy our summers were at work. We swore to ourselves that we wouldn’t let this happen to our grandchildren.  Our parents worked as well but devoted two weeks every summer to simply playing at the lake. Everyone worked hard whether they were farmers or industrial giants or educators.   Teenage summers were spent working at the Dairy Queen or detasseling corn for DeKalb.  Before you could get a work permit you mowed lawns or babysat .  Then you played. -Deb Covey, head buyer of Joseph-Beth Booksellers

Great Lakes Reader essay and author list

WISCONSIN

Life on a Wisconsin Lake, by Margie Petersen White, The Bookstore, Glen Ellyn, IL

Wisconsin’s Many Sides, by Kirk Farber, librarian now in CO

 

ILLINOIS

Hunt for Illinois, by Josh K. Stevens, Read Between the Lynes, Woodstock, IL

Chicago: Big City Blinkin,' by Elizabeth Bidwell Goetz, part time at Seminary in Chicago

 

INDIANA

Contrary Indiana, by Randy Smith, Destinations, New Albany, IN

Basketball Jones, by Terry Whittaker, Viewpoint, IN

 

MICHIGAN

Michigan Left, by Justin Wadland, librarian now in WA

Tough Enough, by Bill Cusumano, Nicola’s, Ann Arbor

 

OHIO

Small Town, Big Heart, by Liz Murphy, Learned Owl, Hudson, OH   

Ohio Nights, by Deb Covey. Joseph Beth

Oh My, My O-hi-O, by Richard Hunt, Clerisy Press

 

Letter from Chris Finan of ABFFE

Delphinium Books Midwest book list and reading group books

Great Lakes and Upper Midwest independent bookstore list

Introduction to the Great Lakes Reader

Seventy-five years ago FDR put a Hall of Fame’s worth of writers to work chronicling every nook and cranny of America in the famous WPA State and City Guides.  Just last year, the idea was revived by Matt Weiland  and Sean Wilsey  in a book they commissioned entitled State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America, published by Ecco.  It featured an original essay on every state in the Union (plus DC) by a new generation of writers, including Dave Eggers on Illinois, Jhumpa Lahiri on Rhode Island, Ann Patchett on Tennessee, Jonathan Franzen on New York, William T. Vollmann on California, and many more.

This modern take on the WPA Guides was not meant to be exhaustive but rather highly personal, almost impressionistic; an attempt to reveal something of the essence of each state today. For instance, the essay on Missouri by NPR’s Jacki Lyden focused on Bosnian immigrants bringing parts of St. Louis back to life, while the award-winning novelist Joshua Ferris’s moving piece on Florida was rooted in the sand of Key West.  Thanks in no small part to the enthusiasm of independent booksellers (including a documentary produced by Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon), State by State was a great success throughout the country.

 

Inspired by State by State’s example, and in tribute to the extraordinary local knowledge of booksellers and librarians, we commissioned a volume devoted to the Great Lakes states written by the independent booksellers and librarians themselves.  These are professionals who deal with other writers’ words every day of their working life, but who don’t often get a chance to see their own words on paper, in a bound book, for sale in a bookstore.  Some have had their work published in magazines or journals; for others, this is their debut. But all of them once lived, or still live, in the Great Lakes region and know its particularities and idiosyncrasies intimately.

Herein you will find essays on the great states of Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Michigan, competitors in Big Ten football during the fall but comrades during the long winters, eager vacationers in the summer and hard workers year round. And except for a hundred  mile stretch on the eastern border of Ohio and a small edge of Wisconsin, these five states are completely surrounded by water—by two of our great rivers, the Ohio and Mississippi, and of course, the Great Lakes. These five states float like a unique slice of American geography and culture, but they are firmly attached to the tradition and history of America.

We hope you enjoy these snapshots, road trips, and memories. There is love and ambivalence here, regret and happiness … but mostly happiness.

One final note: Since I do always take the geography questions in Trivial Pursuit, I do know that Minnesota, Pennsylvania and New York also touch on the Great Lakes! Look for more regional volumes written by booksellers and librarians from around the country next year; this is the first of many. 

Where Have All the Wolverines Gone?

While editing the book of essays called the Great Lakes Reader coming out Oct 1, I came across the fact that wolverines have not been seen for 200 years in Michigan, the Wolverine State. Not so fast, said one of the book’s contributors. Bill Cusumano of Nicola’s in Ann Arbor emailed me right away to say that one had been spotted recently. More on this in a moment, but this led me to wonder about the origins and meanings of other Big Ten university nicknames.

    Consider the Nittany Lion, mascot of my freshman daughter’s new home, Penn State. All that’s left of the cougars that once roamed Mt. Nittany, visible from campus, is a statue on campus that brings good luck if rubbed. Legend has it that in 1907, a Penn State senior conjured up the mountain lion as antidote to the Princeton Bengal tiger. (This royal cat is one of the most common team nicknames around the country, but ain’t never been tigers in Jersey, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, or California.) 

What about another Big Ten mascot, the Golden Gophers of Minnesota? No such animal. There are gophers, of course, but “golden” was added due to the uniform color. The Iowa Hawkeye? Good, strong team name, though Hawkeye is also a comic book hero, the tennis court electronic eye, and a character in MASH. A Wisconsin Badger sounds pretty fierce, but the Northwestern Wildcats seem a little tame by comparison.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Is the point of a university nickname to be a potent and symbolic mixture of fierce, fast, regal, strong, and intimidating qualities, or should it a defining characteristic of the state or university? In the case of the Wisconsin Badgers, both ends are accomplished, as Wisconsin was the Badger State before the university adopted the nickname, and badgers are pretty persistent. You want that quality in an athlete and in graduates of your school in general.

Staying in the region but leaving the animal world, Hoosiers is not an awe-inspiring moniker, but very true to the work ethic of the immigrants who founded Indiana. (Elsewhere, I also like founding names like Oklahoma Sooners, Denver Pioneers, and Penn Quakers, but that may be because my high school was the Southold First Settlers. 1640, you know, before those usurpers in The Hamptons.)

I admire the prickliness of the Buckeye of Ohio, and it also turns out the leaves can be poisonous. That would be an unfair advantage, but, as with Wisconsin, the state nickname came first, and being as strong as a big tree isn’t so bad. Surprisingly, considering the mighty maple, oak and redwood, only one other Div. 1 school sports a tree nickname: the Indiana State Sycamores. (“Sic ‘em, Sycamores?”)

Illinois is one of the last universities to retain a Native American name, but it is true to the state and not a derogatory tag, and Fightin’ Illini is pretty strong stuff. Few Division One Indian names remain – notably the Florida State Seminoles - mostly due to public pressure and a non-binding 2005 NCAA ruling, but I have to say I don’t mind if the point is to pay tribute, and the schools offer special scholarships.

Now Spartans, that’s a name! Up to any battle with Trojans or both Black and Scarlet Knights. No relation to Michigan State history, but a damn fine and heroic nickname, and better than the original one, the Michigan Staters. And last but not least Big Ten-wise, the misunderstood Boilermakers of Purdue, dragged down by the drink of the same name. No, this is a sturdy, true name, forged from the work of engineering students. They were the Blacksmiths for awhile; Boilermakers is better.

 

Leaving the Big Ten but staying near the Great Lakes, here’s the Div. 1 nickname tally: Up in the sky: RedHawks, Redbirds, Cardinals, Falcons, Eagles, and Golden Eagles. Big cats: 2 Cougars, 2 Panthers, and one each of Jaguars, Bearcats, and Bobcats. Pups: Salukis, Huskies, and Bulldogs. One fearsome Grizzlie, even if Golden. (What’s up with Golden? I only think it’s appropriate in California, or for a truly impressive hybrid, the Golden Griffin, which is a lion and eagle combo. Take that.)  From history: Fightin’ Irish, Raiders, Musketeers, Vikings, Titans, Crusaders, Leathernecks, and two Indian holdouts: Chippewas and Braves. A little religious yin/yang: Blue Demons vs. Phoenix. Ohio alone is home to the Rockets, Racers, Flyers, Golden Flashes, and Zips! (Would hate to be the slowest person on those teams.) Unclassifiable: Flames, Purple Aces, Ramblers, and one not scary name: Penguins. Okay, I don’t mean to poke fun; honest. I like the crossword clue aspect of it all, plus the notion that big is not always better. However, here are some names I’d like to see instead, with variations provided if more than one school is interested: (Angry) Teens, (Visi) Goths, (Main or Wall) Streeters, (Killer or Loan) Sharks,  (Red or Long) Snappers, (Scare or Black) Crows,  or, simply, the Rabid Squirrels. If nothing else, think of the revenue from an all-new merchandising push. WTF’s anyone?

So what about the state of the Michigan wolverine, fur-trapped out of existence in the early 1800’s? I spoke to Arnie Karr, a wildlife biologist in Michigan’s Department of Natural Resources, who photographed a lone returning wolverine spotted in the Michigan wild in 2004. He told me that no more have turned up, sadly; it’s just the one female, still on the hunt for a male so she can make more.

Arnie made it a point to add that he’s a wolverine fan but not a Wolverine fan; he roots for the Spartans. But I have U of M friends and I do hope the two-legged Wolverines continue to show up on Saturdays in Ann Arbor. I don’t have any strong college team alliances; I tend to root for underdogs in general. I want the Beavers to outsmart the Bears and the Cardinals to escape unharmed by Hawks.

In closing, a Nittany Lion update: My daughter informs me there is another one around - stuffed and in the library. I’m glad she was in there to see it. Hey, your lions vs. a whole bunch of animals this fall, and Alabama next year, the only school nickname immortalized in a Steely Dan song. I had to work that in, you know. - Carl Lennertz