Katy Kelleher

I am unfamiliar with the author's work, but, no surprise if you know me, I am interested in the subject. Edelweiss granted my request for an advance review copy and I got an uncorrected proof to read.

Ms. Kelleher tells stories of things considered beautiful, weaving in personal experiences, and diving deep into historical research to tease out some of the uglier aspects of them. Some are physical - toxicities and dangers, some psychological - why the toxicities and dangers are accepted (though admittedly largely unknown to the general user). The book description hints at some of these things she writes about: mirrors, flowers, gems, shells, makeup, smelly stuff, flowers, slinky weaves, glass, fancy dinnerware, marble. There are the perceptions of value; the manipulation of perceptions; the hidden costs of producing value. She's candid, and definitely has a personal relationship with what she's written about. And, she's done her research. Every chapter has a jumping off point with a mention of a book or two from which she learned some of the history. The tortured history of things that are beautiful or make us beautiful. Or, rather, are used to make us what we think is beautiful. She concludes "But I’ve also become more attuned to beauty, more capable of creating the experience of wonder within myself. I’ve gotten much better at ferreting out small, exquisite details and savoring complicated, muddy colors." We should all strive to do this.

I like her writing. I am not a fan of the note style (gathered at the end of the book, no indication in the main body that there is a reference to more) but there is a long list for readers to dive deeper themselves. Recommended to those with a curiosity of these things, and to those who could benefit from an understanding of the histories and issues with a selection of beautiful things. Or, just recommended.

Curated highlights, outtakes, stuff that I made note of:

[on the eye of the beholder] "We perceive the qualities of a physical object and then we judge it beautiful. Generally, this feels good. But what pleases your senses is different from what pleases mine."
{Obvious? Not to everyone, and she gets it.}

"...my writing has been informed by my education (both formal and self-directed)..."
{The wraparound text is: "Although I don't cover the philosophy of aesthetics, [...] and by an ongoing engagement with these historic texts." The phrase I extracted resonates with/reflects me.}

Page 35 – 2/1/23
The subtle power of iconography isn’t something I take lightly. Even commonly used symbols are important; I try to choose mine carefully.

Curious. Rejecting religions but afraid to wear icons Is superstitious

[add to the mental dictionary] "The word 'orchid' comes from the Greek word for testicle, 'órkhis.' The Greeks were inspired by the plant’s rounded tubers, which often grow in a pair, one larger and one smaller."
{Huh. I may have known and forgotten that, but I'll take it as having learned something new. Along with the etymology of the word "musk" (it's from a Sanskrit word - I'll leave it to you to look it up.)}

[on her early education] "From New York to New Mexico to Massachusetts, each of our homes was surrounded by nature, and my parents had a Montessori attitude toward education and discovery. If we showed an interest in any one subject—like, say, rocks—they would try to nurture that."
{We did that, too, with our (home educated) children. Follow an interest, find the resources, be it an entomologist or an ornithologist, an EMT/paramedic, or whatever.}

{on magic] "I didn’t understand this until recently, but metaphors are, in a very real way, magic. When I turn a gemstone into a source of solace, when I hold a rock to calm myself, and when I send out good vibes into the world, I’m practicing a form of magic that has been around for as long as humans have been alive. I’m creating links between things, pathways of meaning that get stronger the more often we travel them. In Magic: A History, Oxford archeology professor Chris Gosden defines magic as a mode of activity that emphasizes 'human participation' with the universe. 'Rumors of the death of magic,' he writes, 'have been constantly exaggerated.' Magic isn’t about understanding coldly from a distance or worshipping like a supplicant. It’s about being in the thick of it, a spinner in the net rather than a fly. 'Through magic we can explore mutuality,' Gosden posits, adding that 'human intelligence is one element of the broader intelligence of the world.' Living things communicate with one another, even though we don’t always speak clearly. Magic allows for a greater understanding of the world. It is intertwined with both religion and science, and while we often think of these three frameworks as though they’re in direct opposition, Gosden points out that we don’t have to choose. We have space for many different beliefs inside our brains. Although we tend to denigrate magic as something for children and the childlike, we’ve been practicing magic for as long as we’ve been people. No culture is without its magical practices, its superstitions and its folk beliefs. Holding stones and hoping for calm—it’s a form of magic. If I believe it works, it will. It’s just the placebo effect."
{A large highlight, yes, but one I wanted to come back to. I noted that I'd have to process this a bit. First thought is to dismiss. Second is to see what different meaning she has assigned to "magic" and expand my horizons.}

[on the price of a slave] "Throughout history, people have tried to attach numbers to the human soul, value to a person’s body. This sale is difficult for me to conceptualize, which in some ways makes it easier to stomach. There’s a distance between my life and this event, one that is widened by each year between now and then, each uncomfortable detail that I don’t want to examine."
{One difficult to conceptualize part is the escalation from 10,000 to 150,000 cowrie shells for one human and what 150,000 looks like. Another is the scale of suffering that slavery was/is. For too many, the refusal to even acknowledge its existence, let alone its ongoing generational impacts is difficult for me to conceptualize, even if it plays out in our media today.}

Page 86 – 2/3/23
And American history isn’t just a litany of suffering; its spine is made of survival stories.

[an reflection of critic Wesley Morris on a Beyoncé album] “Let’s take a moment, shall we, to appreciate that beauty will make you tolerate anything, including waking up at the crack of dawn to behold it. Very little compares to the rising sun. [and...] not much tops Beyoncé.”
{Good stuff. I don't listen to her, but I have an appreciation for her art.}

[ah... glass] "We use glass to tell our individual truths, but we can also use it to create false narratives. I wouldn’t have been able to get the coronavirus vaccine without glass vials, but we also wouldn’t have seen such rapid-fire spread of anti-vaccine propaganda if we didn’t have glass screens in our pockets."

[something we don't lie to hear] "The myth of America is that our country was built by free, hardworking immigrants who pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. In reality, America was molded and shaped by decisions of the wealthiest members of society, people who inherited their money or exploited their way to the top."
{Truer words... people do like their myths, though.}

[an untold story] "Unlike coal miners, who get plenty of press attention, we don’t often talk about the people who mix our composite quartz counters or grind our marble to make our toothpaste."… (meer)