Sonnet 87 » The Book List 2008

The Third Annual Sonnet87.com Awards for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence (or, The 2008 Book Awards)

WordNerd — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 19:34:35 +0000

Time for the 2008 book awards. I know you all were waiting with bated breath to hear my verdicts. Especially since we’re nearly three months into the New Year . . .

Looking over my list for the year, I read more than in 2006 and 2007 (not combined, obvs). What pushed me over the edge was my new-found love of Jasper Fforde (more on him later) and a major book order that IP and I did towards the end of the year. So what books impressed me, dismayed me, made me want to tear my hair out in complete despair? Read on!

Best Book of 2008: The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel. What can I say about this novel that I haven’t said already? Innovative, imaginative, hilarious, intelligent, appeals to the English literary snob in all of us . . . it was a magnificent book that led to reading all of Fforde’s canon. I eagerly await his next novel. There are also three more Thursday Next novels on the way, so you can bet I’ll be in line to buy those as soon as they’re released. A successor to the Harry Potter series in terms of creativity, engagement, and humor. That’s not to say it’s like Harry Potter—far removed, actually—but the worlds that Rowling and Fforde create are worlds I can lose myself in immediately. Don’t be surprised if these book are on the 2009 list as re-reads.

Worst Book 0f 2008: Once upon a Quinceañera: Coming of Age in the USA. Dear lord, where do I start? I enjoy Julia Alvarez on the whole, but her recent efforts have been big stinkers. Saving the World, found on the 2006 book list, was a non-starter; the story never seemed to get off the ground. The quinceañera book was an embarrassment because it claims to be social critique, but multiple times Alvarez finds herself saying that she cannot, in good conscience, criticize her own culture. So instead she retells her first novel, already autobiographical in nature, under the Julia identity instead of as Yo from the eponymous novel. Why did I have to relive her first novel? And why wasn’t there more criticism for what the quinceañera truly is—a new wedding industry preying on poor immigrants, complete with bridal gowns in a variety of colors, a ceremony in which a girl is declared as sexually mature with such creepy moments as the gifting of the last doll and her father removing her flats to slip on her new sex-ay heels as she sits on a swing, topped off with a church mass in which the quinceañera declares she’s saving herself until marriage? Given the problems in the young Latina population—dropout and pregnancy rates, drug abuse, and self-esteem issues—why didn’t Alvarez dig a bit deeper and ask how parents can reconcile this ridiculous expense with the reality of the streets their daughters live on everyday? And don’t answer, Ms. Alvarez, the culture—I’m part of that culture, too, and I see nothing positive in reducing a human being solely into her prescribed gender role. Cultures need to pick and choose what rites of passage best serve kids, and the quinceañera does not do that for the Latino cultures’ youth. It undermines them, and doesn’t emphasize what is important—school, family, responsibility—and the ritual instead sets them up with unrealistic expectations: pretty, pretty princess dresses, expensive cakes and a chambelán waiting to do their bidding. To round out the year, I re-read Ms. Alvarez’s In the Time of the Butterflies—a really good book, by the way—and her postscript mentions that she started out writing a biography of the Mirabal sisters instead of a work of fiction. Their personalities, she says, grew and became distinct from truth, so a novel was born. The quinceañera book should’ve been a novel. Ms. Alvarez doesn’t have the chops for sharp social commentary and biographical studies, it seems—it would be best for her to stick to fiction.

Best Non-Fiction: 1776 by David McCullough. As I mentioned in my rather long review of this book, I’ve never found American history to be engaging; even when I first visited IP in D.C., my reaction to the monuments and historical sites was meh. My family is much the same when it comes to American history; it pales in comparison to the dynamic, bloody, and still-struggling history of Mexico. Maybe it’s because that, as Mexicans, we find it harder to identify with Americans, but I find that theory to be bullshit in most cases. After all, I’m a woman who studied the medieval, Renaissance and Early Modern history and literature of England with zeal and enthusiasm. I can only conclude that my grade school teachers sucked when it came to communicating the momentous and interesting periods of American history. Thankfully, books like 1776 rectify this problem.

Best Fiction: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. This book came as a recommendation from the same friend who recommended Fforde’s novels. Our tastes seem to run together for a bit, then diverge wildly; she strays into Shopaholic territory while I wander back to re-read The Second Shepherd’s Play. This novel was one in which our tastes ran closely together. An absolute heart breaker of a story, The Book Thief is a young adult novel set in Nazi Germany. It serves to remind the reader that a population is not monolithic when it comes to beliefs, ideals and actions; the story tells the tale of one family’s resistance to the evils of Nazi Germany and the dangers they faced in doing so. The book is written from the point of view of Death, an interesting narrator if there ever was one (and one who was, he notes, much too busy during this time period in the world’s history). It may be a story for young adults, but I highly recommend it. It’s both depressing and uplifting as it approaches its end.

Worst Non-Fiction: I Was Told There’d be Cake. I have no words. Sloane Crosley has to be one of the worst essayists I’ve had the misfortune to encounter. Sarah Vowell she ain’t. There is no depth to her writing, no self-realization, no awareness of the world around her. It’s basically a bunch of essays by an affluent young woman lucky enough to know publishing friends, trying to view her privileged life ironically, and it falls terribly flat.

Worst Fiction: Twilight. Bella is boring. Edward is a stalker. The movie was infinitely better than the book, but even that’s not saying much. The obsession with true love at the age of 17 is a common theme in young adult literature, but Stephenie Meyer tries to make it more complex with the addition of the undead as a source of conflict. But Bella has no conflict; she’s willing to ditch her family in a (last) heartbeat. Single-minded commitment to men turns me off as a reader. If you want to know what happens in this book and the subsequent ones, pop some popcorn, got to Wikipedia, and read it all there. Or better yet, read the commentary by Cleolinda. At least you’ll be guaranteed some laughs if you do the former and latter. And honestly, if you’re going to write about the undead, zombies are much more interesting than vampires. Sure, you can’t have a love story between a zombie and human, but at least you can have some good action sequences, some gore, and a truly desperate fight for survival (aren’t apocalyptic stories the greatest!?).

Best Discovery: Jasper Fforde. I am so impressed and excited by this author. I have rarely seen the level of gusto, creativity, complexity, and entertainment that Fforde brings to every story I’ve read by him. Be it Thursday Next or Jack Spratt, I am thoroughly engrossed when picking up a Fforde tome. I look forward to many, many years of enjoying Fforde’s quirky sense of humor, his parallel universes that make me wish our world were a bit more like his, the wordplay that makes every sentence in his stories enjoyable, his obvious love of literature and his ability to take that love and make a genuinely intelligent and pleasurable story out of it. Kudos to Fforde and kudos to my friend who recommended his works.

That is it for 2008. Rest assured that I have been reading in 2009, but it has been slow going. The 2009 book list will be started in short order. Since I never produced a final book list for the year, I’m including it in this post.

Onto the final 2008 book list:

Finished:

1) Flesh and Spirit: Private Life in Early Modern Germany by Steven E. Ozment
2) Women at the Beginning – Origin Myths from the Amazons to the Virgin Mary by Patrick J. Geary
3) Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris
4) A Man for All Seasons: A Play in Two Acts by Robert Bolt
5) Lisey’s Story by Stephen King
6) 1776 by David McCullough
7) The Savage Detectives: A Novel by Roberto Bolaño (Translation by Natasha Wimmer)
8) The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O’Farrell
9) Duma Key by Stephen King
10) The World Without Us by Alan Weisman
11) Me by Katharine Hepburn
12) The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World by A. J. Jacobs
13) The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
14) Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert
15) Twilight by Stephenie Meyer
16) The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde
17) The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
18) I Was Told There’d Be Cake by Sloane Crosley
19) Lost in a Good Book: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde
20) The Well of Lost Plots: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde
21) Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde
22) Thursday Next: First Among Sequels by Jasper Fforde
23) The Big Over Easy: A Nursery Crime by Jasper Fforde
24) The Fourth Bear: A Nursery Crime by Jasper Fforde
25) Blaze: A Posthumous Novel by Stephen King writing as Richard Bachman
26) The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell
27) The October Country by Ray Bradbury
28) Once upon a Quinceanera: Coming of Age in the USA by Julia Alvarez
29) Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance by Barack Obama
30) The Best American Short Stories 2007 edited by Stephen King and Heidi Pitlor
31) Just after Sunset by Stephen King
32) Serena by Ron Rash
33) The Tales of Beedle the Bard by JK Rowling

Re-read:

1) In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez

Currently Reading:

1) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
2) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
2) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann

Stunning Literary Analysis by WordNerd and IP: The Book List

WordNerd — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 16:34:56 +0000

Spoilers for Ron Rash’s Serena follow. Do not read if you aren’t a spoiler whore.

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:15:53 AM
Subject: Perfect

http://www.candlesandsuch.com/the-love-pinch-cake-topper-8664.html

Anyway, why did you leave so early? Lots of work or just couldn’t sleep?

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:17:10 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Ha-ha. Is there one with the groom slapping the bride’s ass?

Both. Why are you up already?
IP

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:19:00 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Not that I know of. I can look, though. ;)

After you left, I dozed a bit. Then I got up to finish reading Serena. What an evil, evil bitch!

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:19:34 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

You finished it?

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:20:37 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Si. I’m very happy she died violently.

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:21:28 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

But way too late.

(That’s what I was going to say, but didn’t want to if you hadn’t finished it.)

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:22:26 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Yeah, it took a while, but at least she was killed by the one thing she couldn’t have. And it’s kind of like her husband’s ghost killed her. :D

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:23:08 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

I felt the worst for the cop. He was like the one good guy in the whole story.

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:24:29 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Very true. Tortured to death. Didn’t even try to run when he tried to kill them.

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:25:30 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

One thing the book really lacked, IMO, was any explanation of how Serena got to be the way she was. You don’t just wake up one morning that evil.

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:30:08 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

True. No full background, just merely hinted at throughout. And even then, those type of tendencies can’t be explained by surviving influenza and losing your family. It’s one thing to be strong, quite another to be a sociopath.

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:31:38 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

I thought maybe the truth was that she killed her family. But again, that’s just more evil, not an explanation.

What I really hated about Serena was that she left Colorado for the East Coast. ;)

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:32:43 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Seriously! That’s really a marker of insanity.

Wait, what does that say about you? ;) I should watch out for rattlesnakes and turkey sandwiches . . .

From: IP
To: WordNerd
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:33:35 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

Have you met my one-handed friend? And his mom??

From: WordNerd
To: IP
Sent: Tuesday, December 23, 2008 8:34:27 AM
Subject: Re: Perfect

And I thought your cousin Luigi was scary . . .

_______________________________________________

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
2) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)
3) In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez

1) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
2) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann

The Wordy Updates: The Book List

WordNerd — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 15:14:28 +0000

Although you’ll probably not believe me given the lack of book list updates around here, I’ve been reading. A lot. As you may have noticed, the writing thing isn’t going so well (I attribute that to a busy work schedule and pretty, pretty dresses that must be perused).

First thing’s first: I’ve gone through the entirety of the Jasper Fforde canon since the last book list. After The Eyre Affair, I was unable to resist buying first the rest of his Thursday Next novels, and subsequently failed to resist the call to his Nursery Crime series. I am extremely disappointed that Shades of Grey, advertised as coming in July 2008, is now slated to appear in summer 2009. Throughout my reading of the Thursday Next novels, I was absolutely delighted — it’s so much fun to read a writer who appreciates, admires and, well, loves the written word so much (because it’s not so obvious in some of the other things I’ve read in the recent past). From integrating footnotes into a vital part of the novels to making the clichéd exhortation of falling into a book possible, the Thursday Next novels were absolutely golden to me. Imagine my delight in realizing that there are three more on their way!

The Nursery Crime series, a spin-off from the Nextian novel The Well of Lost Plots (but not acknowledged as such in the Nursery Crime series since the Nursery Crime series is supposed to be a world unto its own), is also charming, but on a different level than the Thursday Next novels. If you think the Thursday Next novels require a huge suspension of disbelief, you’ve seen nothing until you tackle the Nursery Crime series. The detective series, headlined by Jack Spratt and Mary Mary, deals with crime within the nursery rhyme world — nursery rhyme characters live in the Reading, Berkshire area and Jack Spratt is in charge of the so-called Nursery Crimes Division. The books have dealt with the untimely and suspicious death of Humpty Dumpty and the disappearance of Goldilocks (with an insane Gingerbreadman thrown in for good measure). Like the Nextian series, the Nursery Crime series is snarky, self-deprecating and witty — you do you have to be on your toes, and the more you know about nursery rhymes, the better. Watch out for a public fascination with crime stories (more so than in real life; imagine a press conference everyday with a show-off detective outlining how he pieced together a crime), thermonuclear cucumbers, and aliens who speak in binary. I won’t say that it’s as engaging as the Thursday Next novels, but it holds its own. It’s best to let them stand on their own merits, anyway. However, don’t read the Nursery Crime novels until you’ve read the aforementioned Well of Lost Plots.

In between the readings of the two Fforde series, I also had the misfortune of picking up Sloane Crosley’s self-indulgent tripe, I Was Told There’d Be Cake (seriously, lady, just stick to blogs like I’m doing; I’d never inflict my vain, self-centered writing on the publishing world!). I picked up Crosley’s essays because it was noted that she had a similar tone to Sarah Vowell — whose new book, The Wordy Shipmates, I’m currently reading — and Sarah Vowell should be insulted. The driving idea behind Crosley’s essays is that no matter what she does, she doesn’t come out ahead and is prone to massive fuck-ups that she can only attribute to being a strange, strange person. It’s one big love and/or hatefest with herself, like every other person in the world has with themselves. Except that Sloane Crosely got to publish and make money off of her stories, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why.

There are no great insights that Crosley experiences and reveals to the reader; no careful examination, no witty observations, no everyday occurrences that take on another layer of meaning thanks to her writing. As far as I can tell, she just tell stories that she thinks may be funny, that she thinks may have imparted a lesson on her (but not on the reader), thinks have some kind of introspective or at least quirky bent to them. The only time I identified with her was when she was discussing her name — in the chapter “Bastard out of Westchester”— but even then she cites her name as “a placeholder for the heritage and cultural grounding [she] never had.” And that’s where Crosley’s writing ultimately fails — whatever it is she’s trying to bring to the table, she does it seemingly without context, and consequently she flounders. Everyone has heritage and cultural grounding — it may not be what Crosley considers unique or exotic, but we all come with some cultural context. Just because American culture is a bit of a salad doesn’t make it bland.

I use my name as a placeholder as a reminder of the cultural heritage and grounding that I know I possess and want to honor. Here I am, the daughter of Mexican Catholic immigrants who made good, sent three of their kids of Michigan and one to MIT, grew up in a vanilla-white town, fell in love with medieval/Renaissance/Early Modern literature, is marrying a Ph.D. scientist raised Jewish from New York, is somehow an event planner even though it’s writing and research that really rocks, has lived in Mexico and Canada and Michigan and now DC . . . I’m always disappointed in people who say they have no culture. Yes, you do. It doesn’t have a simple narrative structure, but it’s there. And to tell bland stories to get around thinking about who you are? Way to undermine yourself. It’s not charming. It’s just sad. I’m still trying to find a way to write about myself intelligently — Crosley still hasn’t achieved this, but she managed to get published.

One weekend later . . .

Speaking of the comparison that brought me to Crosley, I’ve now finished the newest Sarah Vowell book since I began writing this book list. What can I say? Only Sarah Vowell can persuade me to read about pilgrims. A focus on the Massachusetts Bay Colony, Vowell hones in on the persons who begin to create a rich history for the United States, and contrasts them with the ideas of Puritanism and pilgrims that we have today. Say evangelical and you automatically think of pilgrims, but this is not so. The Massachusetts Bay Colony pilgrims were far from the God-within, book-larnin’s’ for pansies, give-me-my-gun evangelicals that the word “pilgrim” may bring to mind. These people established Harvard, after all. Go to Harvard today and you’re an elite bastard (what if you go to school across the river? Are you then an elite nerd? Mathgeek?).

As I’ve said before, United States history as it’s taught in schools is terrible; Mexican history teachers are much more willing to get into the conflicts that arose between various factions, will gleefully recount bloody details and obscure events, are happy to slander any particular president if the historical facts call for it. Not so in the States — history is so damn sanitized that even Andrew Jackson comes off as looking good after he force-marches the Cherokee down the Trail of Tears. What I enjoyed about 1776 and now The Wordy Shipmates is that the personages that Vowell presents are much more than people leaving England for an uncertain fate, but bravely facing what may come in the name of liberty; once there she goes into depth of how they actually conducted themselves, from regularly banishing people who questioned the church fathers and magistrates to establishing new colonies that demanded the right to religious freedom to engineering one of the worst slaughters of American Indians. Here’s John Winthrop, a pious bastard who is sometimes likeable and sometimes downright despicable; Roger Williams, who founds Rhode Island and presents himself to a loudmouth who believes in equality and the right to practice one’s own religion; here’s Anne Hutchinson, who was always a martyr according to our history books, but who damned herself during her trial and was a precursor to the proudly uneducated evangelical that terrorizes our country today (yes, I used that word on purpose, dearies). And here are the sachems of the local American Indian tribes, first betraying one another in order to survive alongside the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and then attempting (futilely) to band together in order to push back against the colony as its dominance rose. As with 1776, you learn that it wasn’t just Plymouth Rock-First Thanksgiving-1776! The intricacies in between are what shaped the nation for better or for worse, and of course Vowell adds her own patented dry-wit observations that make you laugh out loud until you realize with horror that, funny as the observation may be, it’s still acurrate and demonstrates how a) smart or 2) cruel those wordy shipmates actually were.

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
2) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
2) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann

I’d Name My Dodo “Quaffle”: The Book List

WordNerd — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 13:00:13 +0000

Finally, an update to the book list. It’s been a long time in coming – nearly two months since the last book list entry. I’m unsure if I’ll even list the book I’ve read in the correct order (although, to be fair, I haven’t read that many books since then). I am, however, only two books behind where I was this time of year, and my reading has suddenly picked up considerably. I have discovered a new series that is sure to propel me into 2006-2007 book list territory.

I recently finished Daniel Gilbert’s Stumbling on Happiness, Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth and Jasper Fforde’s The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel. Let’s summarize my ratings: read Gilbert, ditch Meyer, ditch Follett and snatch up Fforde as soon as possible. Read Gilbert because he doesn’t profess to tell us how to be happy but tells us why we’re never as happy as we imagined our future selves to be; it’s a good lesson in humanity and something to keep in mind as we try to predict our futures. Ditch Meyer because this hack has already made enough money (and thank god that I borrowed this book and didn’t pay for it) and shimmering vampires is a really, really stupid idea. Ditch Follett because he’s a boring writer and wouldn’t know medieval life if it bit him in the ass. Snatch up Fforde because it’s bound to be the most creative, inventive piece of fiction that you’ve read in a while.

The Eyre Affair was recommended to me by my good Dyn-o-mite! friend and now-bridesmaid L (not the same bridesmaid-saga College friend L; Dyn-o-mite! L is probably going to get scathing looks from College L at the wedding). Dyn-o-mite! L is my Harry Potter buddy outside of the family; in the last few years, she joined us for the midnight releases of the last few books. I was hesitant at first given the “Eyre” part of the equation. I do not like Victorian literature, and find the Brontë sisters and their Gothic writings to be insufferable at best. I much prefer, to my great surprise, the postmodern prequel Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys (keeping in mind that I find Victorian and postmodern literature to be a special kind of hell for a medievalist like myself).

My fears were unfounded; the novel takes place in an alternate 1985 where the Crimean War still rages, England is a police state, and Richard III is played every Friday night in Thursday’s home town of Swindon, complete with audience participation a la Rocky Horror Picture Show. It is the last fact that made me fall in love with this book: if there’s one revisionist history I like to follow, it’s Richard III’s – a fairly good king who was not the monster Shakespeare makes him to be, I have sympathy for the family misfit who was probably the only one could’ve ended the War of the Roses had he been given a legitimate chance.

The book’s 1985 is extremely contradictory to our own; had we been this advanced in 1985, who knows what we’d be up to today. I won’t spoil the book, but suffice it to say that time travel is possible, entering a book is probable, and having a dodo for a pet is commonplace. It helps, of course, if you’ve read Jane Eyre. “Was that the one with Mr. Darcy?” IP asked after confirming that he had read Jane Eyre during my recommendation of this book to him.

“Nope, that’s Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen,” I responded. “Mr. Rochester instead of Darcy.”

“Damn,” IP replied, unperturbed. “They’re all the same.”

“No kidding,” I answered. You don’t have that problem with distinguishing Shakespeare from Marlowe from Kyd.

(I realize that Austen is not Victorian literature and she is tough to classify; however, the pairings off that happen in Austen’s books and the Brontës’ books can kind of muddy the memory waters if you’re not into this type of literature.)

This book, though, is a lit geek’s dream. Police state as the obvious deal breaker, I wouldn’t mind living in a place where people were passionate enough about literature to riot for it, raise money to rescue a beloved (though not by me) literary heroine, and memorize Richard III. The prose is witty, intelligent and straightforward; the plot requires an enormous suspension of disbelief that we all do anyway when we watch a paleontologist living in Manhattan who never seems to do any fieldwork or research, yet lives like a king; the adventure is entertaining and hilarious, a nice sly wink to the literature nerds around the world. If you like wordplay, adventure, intelligence and pride yourself on your literary prowess, read it: you won’t regret it. Though you may find yourself wishing for your own Will-Speak.

Barnes and Noble will soon get an order from me for the rest of the Thursday Next series. For now, though, I’m reading Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief, which promises to be a good book if not a tad depressing.

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
2) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
3) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
2) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann
3) I Was Told There’d Be Cake by Sloane Crosley

Books without End, Year of Slow Reading: The Book List

WordNerd — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 20:02:42 +0000

The book list isn’t going particularly well. My reading has slowed down to a veritable crawl and I’m finding it difficult to get motivated. I’ve now added another book to my “Currently Reading” list, the 1989 bestseller The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. Last year’s World Without End was the sequel to this novel, which I am not finding as engaging as late-1980s readers did. Perhaps it’s because I already know a lot about medieval cathedrals and find the exposition of their setups mildly annoying and almost tangential as to what’s happening to the characters. It’s the clunky, jammed-in technical jargon that writers must find a interesting way to insert. So far, Ken Follett isn’t doing it for me. Let’s hope it picks up for here on end, but I’m not so sure. I’ve read good historical fiction and bad historical fiction. This is leaning towards the bad. However, that may be because of my knowledge in the area. Let’s just summarize by saying that this isn’t encouraging me to buy the sequel once I (perhaps) finish its predecessor.

I have ordered a few new books, though. I still have some “old” new books sitting on my shelves, including one by Geraldine Brooks. IP read it first and was horrified by how bad it was; I’ve read Brooks’ Year of Wonders and was less than impressed, but decided to give her a chance to see how she handles the rare book world. IP couldn’t believe that Brooks’ writing was ever good enough to win a Pulitzer, and while I saw some potential in Year of Wonders, it appears that I have another dud on my hands. Perhaps Brooks is suffering from a junior slump (since her sophomore effort produced a Pulitzer). I knew it, though — should’ve gone with March instead of being tempted by a story about rare books. However, rare book versus Civil War, rare book versus Civil War . . . the distant past will always win out for me. Anyway, I still have a biography on Katharine Hepburn to go, also; I found her autobiography to be funny, touching, refreshingly honest and a classic voice. I’m interested to see what another has to write about her.

The new books I’ve ordered came as recommendations from a friend. I don’t think they’ll be particularly challenging as one is a young adult book, but she told me that if I needed something similar to a Harry Potter fix, these books would approximate it. They’re being delivered today and will provide the distraction I need as I travel long distances for business once again. They will also, hopefully, help me as I wait for IP on the Big Island of Hawaii to begin our vacation (I arrive very early in the morning in Kona; IP arrives in the afternoon; I will attempt to get into my hotel room as early as possible, but I’m not sure how that’ll work).

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:
1) The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
2) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
3) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
2) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann
3) I Was Told There’d Be Cake by Sloane Crosley
4) The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
5) The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel by Jasper Fforde

Wasted Lives, Ruined Lives, Semi-Recaptured Lives: The Book List

WordNerd — Sun, 18 May 2008 18:43:33 +0000

Ah, the book list returns. It’s been a while simply because I read Roberto Bolaño’s The Savage Detectives, which tore at my soul and consumed my life for about four weeks. It got rave reviews and was one of the New York Times’ 10 Best Books of 2007, but only sheer force of will (and the fact that I can rarely let anything remotely involving Mexico alone) got me through it. It is a postmodernist’s delight and I am no postmodernist. Give me something written in 1400 any day of the week. Striking at times? Yes. Evocative? In places. Worth my four weeks? No. A true story with an ending that, if not satisfactory, made sense and seemed at ease with the rest of the book? Nope.

After letting go of Bolaño, I moved onto other books. First up was The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O’Farrell, a book that was a Barnes and Noble Recommends title, much like Love Is a Mix Tape. I resisted Esme, though – it didn’t seem like the type of book I’d enjoy and I feared it would only be chick lit, a genre which I disdain for its reassurance that acting like an insane harpy who shops nonstop is the precise way to land a man and live happily ever after (instead of, you know, taking responsibility of your life, planning, and living it outside of the material world). However, on a day in which I was look to buy Katharine Hepburn bios and needed a couple of dollars to complete my free shipping requirement at Barnes and Noble, I finally gave into their recommendation (in no small part because the book was bargain priced at $3).

I was pleasantly surprised. A quick read, but an entertaining one. Far from being the enabling, silly chick lit that I feared, this was a true work of literature that explored the sufferings of women when they had no choices to make themselves. No wacky great-aunts terrorizing their flighty grand-nieces here (which is what I thought when I skimmed the description); instead, it was a balanced, nuanced story about family secrets and a prim society that lead to many women being labeled as mentally ill when in fact they were expressing individuality and the right to be unhappy in their lives.

I will say this about the book – O’Farrell is a very skilled writer, developing characters and settings with ease, but the book is predictable. I knew the trajectory of the book less than halfway through, even as the author tried to confuse us with back stories that might account for and explain any suspicions aroused in the reader. The Washington Post said that “you read on in a panic, horrified that you may be right”; I wouldn’t characterize my pressing on as panic as nothing surprises me about what may have happened to powerless women at one time or another. The panic is a luxury you can afford if you believe that autonomy existed for everyone, equally, at all times. It is still an excellent read, especially in its ending; although you might no what’s coming next during your reading, you’re unsure of what’s next when the book ends. There are many possibilities but you can only speculate at that point, and as an avid reader and sometimes writer, I like to let my imagination fill in the blanks at times.

Speaking of imagination, onto the next book that rounds out this post – Stephen King’s Duma Key. Anyone who has perused this blog’s reading list knows that I came to King’s writing pretty late in my nearly 30-year span of life. I simply didn’t consider King worth my time and preferred to have my horror provided by good movies that hinted at horror. (Or provided it outright when a zombie bit into the neck of an unwitting survivor, but I digress.) However, upon sitting down to actually read King, I discovered that he could produce that terror that sneaks up on you, settles into a small space in your brain, and won’t leave until you will yourself to forget what is scaring you. I’m not sure how many of King’s works I’ve read, but I do know that his later stuff is hit or miss (see From a Buick 8 for a solid hit, Cell for a solid miss). Duma Key falls into a little of both (note: spoilers ahead for those who want to read the book).

Duma Key is the story of Edgar Freemantle, a rich contractor who suffers an “other life” ending accident while on-site at one of his projects. What follows is Edgar’s recovery, which encompasses everything from physical therapy to divorce to moving to Duma Key, Florida. There, he begins to paint as therapy, channeling great works of art that seemingly come from nowhere – he sketched as a child, but doodles on a phone pad had been his only artwork during his time as a contractor. His urge to paint is signaled to him by the itching of his right arm, which no longer exists, having been lost in the accident that nearly cost him his life and his memory.

As with all of King’s story, there’s horror in the ordinary – Edgar begins to paint and plays with reality in those paintings, not realizing the power that is being generated from his work. And of course things begin to spiral out of control, affecting his family and friends – much like it did for the novel’s other artist, Elizabeth Eastlake, when she was a child prodigy. At the center of all this power is Perse, the antagonist who makes everyone’s life a living and has a habit of taking daughters away. Perse taps into Edgar, Elizabeth and secondary character Wireman through their head injuries – inflicted by a crane, a pony-trap, and a gun, respectively.

And it is Perse, in her physical manifestation, that disappointed me most about Duma Key. I really have no questions where she came from – her name associates with the Oceanids of Greek mythology, ocean deities who (Perse in particular) gave rise to witches or were associated with them. Her ship, the Persephone, is an obvious hat-tip to the queen of the underworld in Greek mythology – however, Perse’s ship is more like a saltwater purgatory in which the dead can never really find rest, are allowed to periodically leave, but ultimately exist only to do Perse’s bidding in gathering more souls for her floating kingdom. That she seemed to emerge from nowhere to influence Elizabeth and Edgar did not trouble me – after all, where did Randall Flag come from in The Stand? If there is good helping Edgar that is not explained, why demand more of the evil? Her physical manifestation, though, as a small china doll that resorts to biting Edgar in her attempt to escape him and his plans for her? It made me giggle out loud.

Perse aside, Duma Key was classic King – everything seems to be going okay until the supernatural elements start to creep in and slowly take control of the ordinary, everyday world. Particularly touching is Edgar’s relationship with his youngest daughter, Ilse. Despite all he does to protect her, Ilse is hurt, first by her wandering Baptist boyfriend, later by Perse. Edgar’s final act is to release Ilse from the Persephone, ensuring a peaceful afterlife instead of an undeath aboard a ship from hell. As a self-professed Daddy’s girl, I know my father did everything in his power to protect me as I grew, but it got to a point where it slipped beyond his grasp. That doesn’t lessen the love, though, and knowing it strengthens our bond. In Edgar’s case, Ilse is in a period where she is just blossoming into an adult – Edgar notes this throughout the book – but her father’s one last try to save her ultimately fails. To take someone on the cusp of adulthood – when things will slip out of a parent’s grasp permanently but most likely not fatally – is the cruelest trick that Perse played.

What next on the book list? Good question. I still haven’t quite decided. Biography or more fiction? Hmm.

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
2) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) The Pillars of the Earthby Ken Follett
2) The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World by A. J. Jacobs
3) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
4) Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn by William J. Mann
4) Me by Katharine Hepburn

Hans Sprungfeld Knew the Truth: The Book List

WordNerd — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 16:25:56 +0000

When it comes to American history and the Revolutionary War in particular, I greatly prefer the version presented to me by The Simpsons to the one presented to me by boring teachers, K-5 and 8-12. (The years in between were spent in Mexico.) The person of George Washington, for example, goes from chopping down a cherry tree to seeming vaguely human, something Hans Sprungeld (Jebediah Springfield) knew from his rivarly with the general. Behold:

George Washington in “Lisa the Iconoclast”:

Betsy Ross: I got the white stars you wanted, but I couldn’t find any red hearts, yellow moons, or green clovers.
Washington: I’ll take it. But I’m not paying for it.

Washington: We had quitters during the Revolution too. We called them Kentuckians.

Washington: Looks like I’m going to have to find another little girl to be President. What’s your friend Janey’s number?
Lisa: No, not Janey! She’ll pack the Supreme Court with boys!

Washington in “I Love Lisa”:

Lisa: [as Martha Washington] Dear, dear George Washington. Can this liberty you dream of be worth all this bloodshed?
Ralph Wiggum: [as George Washington] Dear madam, would you put a price on the air we breathe, or the providence that sustains us?
Lisa: But couldn’t we just give into the British?
Ralph Wiggum: NEVER!

Lisa: [George Washington is on his deathbed] Please don’t leave me George.
Ralph Wiggum: Dear wife, if I could take but one treasure with me to the next life, it would be your tender kiss. [He kisses her hand and dies; she cries]

Futurama also does an excellent job with the general:

Washington in “The Day the Earth Stood Stupid”:

Fry: All right, time to reeducate you dunce bags. We’ll start with U.S Presidents. This is our first president, George Washington. [Pause. The others look confused]
Fry: Let’s review. Who was our first president?
Bender: A pickle jar?
Washington: Thomas Jefferson?

Washington in “A Head in the Polls”:

Washington: So telleth, Bender, what hath happened to your body?
Bender: I hocked it.
Washington: Hocked it? Why wouldst thou do that?
Bender: Same reason you hocked your teeth.
Washington: Ah, booze money.

And so on. My point is that American history and the Revolutionary War have always been immensely boring to me. In school, we learned that Washington came first and he was perfect, but not much else. Mexican history was much more fascinating – triumphs and defeats were given to us, courage and fallacies were discussed, and we actually got to current times by the end of the year. All I can recall are teachers droning on and on about how Washington crossed the Delaware and that the Declaration of Independence was a natural heir of the Magna Carta (which wasn’t even explained – I was in the second grade, I had no clue what the goddamn Magna Carta was!). Before I went to school in Mexico, I thought history was one of the most boring subjects there could be. Exploration of Mexican history, and remembering how interesting it had been encouraged me to look into English history in depth when I became a Med/Ren/Early Modern student. By then, though, the time for any interest in American history passed me by.

So how was it that I came to pick up 1776 by David McCullough? Part of it was that I was in a lull between book orders – I had finished (or nearly finished) all books in my last batch and was awaiting a new delivery. It came with a recommendation from IP, which is always a good nod. I had just finished a piece of fiction, which usually leads to a piece of non-fiction, so it was up next in queue, you could say. So I buckled down to read it, hoping for a little more insight on the year 1776 (and not just the catchy Union 76 taglines from the old commercials).

And I would describe this as an excellent read: like The Simpsons and Futurama, McCullough manages to make all personages involved in the strategic battles and confrontations of late 1775 and into early 1777 human; Washington in fallible, as are the green commanders he depends upon; the British and Hessian troops (Hessians!? I never once heard the word “Hessian” in school) are also made more than just evil in red and blue, with competent commanders, somewhat slow-moving generals and enough discipline to court martial soldiers who raped women on Staten Island. The night crossing of the Delaware to take Trenton is rightfully acknowledged as a turning point in the war, but it is tempered with knowledge of Washington’s prior defeats, missteps, and second doubts. If anything, 1776 is a dark year in American history, with various personalities struggling to salvage the year’s exploits in some redeemable fashion. No one fully succeeds as the war lasts another six years until 1783, but the seeds for separation are planted – something never fully emphasized in public schools, as 1776 is made to be a watershed year in which the U.S. triumphed. You almost get the sense that nothing ever really happened after that (thanks, Saline elementary school teachers). The country did ultimately triumph, but the abyss that was faced was incredible and not to be dismissed lightly – to do so would be to dismiss the fears, indecision, sacrifices and the humanity of the people who fought in 1776 and beyond. American history as taught in schools does a great disservice to neglect these in order to prop up the leaders of the past as perfect. I can’t relate to George Washington, truth-teller extraordinaire; I can relate to George Washington, down but not out as he and his army retreat from New York.

The book makes excellent use of diaries and letters from Americans, British and Hessians alike, giving the reader a glimpse into the thoughts of the day. Particularly striking was the diary of Joseph Reed, Washington’s trusted adviser. Upon the arrival of the British and Hessian troops on Staten Island, 32,000 in strength, Reed wrote to his wife:

When I look down and see the prodigious fleet they have collected, the preparations they have made, and consider the vast expenses incurred, I cannot help being astonished that a people should come 3,000 miles at such risk, trouble and expense to rob, plunder and destroy another people because they will not lay their lives and fortunes at their feet.

This entry made me pause, and it should make every reader pause. Might does not equal right, which is what the U.S. effectively used as an excuse to make war in Iraq. Two hundred and thirty-two years later, the U.S. is the aggressor, running the risk of becoming the faceless redcoats without just cause in some child’s history book down the road. How very full circle – given what’s slowly going to come to light as we move past the Bush administration, I don’t know that anyone, not even a historian of David McCullough’s talent, could salvage the face of this invading army.

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) The Savage Detectives: A Novelby Roberto Bolaño (Translation by Natasha Wimmer)
2) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
3) The Aeneidby Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) The Pillars of the Earthby Ken Follett
2) The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World by A. J. Jacobs
3) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks

When the Block Breaks: The Book List

WordNerd — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 19:22:33 +0000

Finally, a book list! Here it is, the fourth month of the year, and I’m only starting to write up a book list for 2008. How shameful and shocking.

We start of the year with a minor commentary on Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story, which I finished yesterday afternoon at my desk (tells you how busy I am). As far as Stephen King goes, the book is less horror and gore than psychological exploration. The focus is the relationship between Scott and Lisey Landon, married for 25 years before Scott dies. Scott is a famous novelist, critically acclaimed and devoured by the masses. Lisey is his ever-present if silent wife throughout his career, which belies her more accurate role as not only his friend and lover, but his anchor in this world.

Two things were the most striking in this book: yes, there was a madman; yes, there was a monster. However, they are almost periphery to the understanding of Scott’s sometime tenuous hold on reality and the devotion and dedication between Lisey and Scott. Deep relationships have an interiority that no one outside of that membership can understand, but the depth of interiority is easy to recognize if you have experienced (or are experiencing, I would say) that kind of intensity of understanding. How Lisey figures into Scott’s alternate world, and how she comes into her own in using, manipulating and being terrified of that world, cement the bond between them even after his death. Unlike Scott, Lisey has the ability to forget what she has seen (Dana Scully, anyone?) until it is absolutely required of her in order to save herself or Scott. Resourcefulness and intelligence are Lisey’s strengths even if, when we are introduced to her, she seems little more than a tired widow whose only role in life was to hold the awards, certificates, and little tokens given to her husband at events. Lisey holds so much more of Scott, and that’s where King does an excellent job. I like to think that it’s probably a weirdly sweet reflection of the kind of understanding that there is between King and his own novelist wife; I know that I recognized the wavelengths on which IP and I travel within the book – faint, of course, because neither of us can teleport to beautiful otherworldly places, but it’s easy enough to see that Lisey and Scott are best friends in the sense that I see myself and IP to be. Lisey and Scott can share their very selves without fear of judgment or rejection. That’s, to be very plain, important.

The book can be eerie, though. Whether based in the sad reality of murderous insanity or when describing another world that goes sour and evil as the sun goes down, King does deliver an unsettling atmosphere even if this book doesn’t give you outright scary moments (go to Pet Sematary or ‘Salem’s Lot for those thrills). The acts of violence of this world and the scary monsters of the other, though, crumble under the weight and force of Lisey and Scott as a whole. Both are threatening and have the legitimate power to destroy, and do inflict damage, but ultimately fail.

Wow, I actually finished a book list entry (I have started a few for the other books I have read this year, but this is the only one to be completed). I am currently reading David McCullough’s 1776 and am awaiting the arrival of a few new books from Barnes and Noble. Hopefully this entry gets me out of the reading and book blogging funk in which I’ve been.

Onto the book list:

Finished:

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) 1776 by David McCullough
2) Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes by Eamon Duffy
3) The Aeneidby Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

1) The Savage Detectives: A Novelby Roberto Bolaño (Translation by Natasha Wimmer)
2) The Pillars of the Earthby Ken Follett
3) The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World by A. J. Jacobs
4) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks