Jonathan's comments (member since Sep 29, 2007)

Jonathan's comments from the Constant Reader group.

Frankenstein is the first thing that comes to mind for a first-person book with potentially unreliable narrators. Oh, and Lolita of course. And The Catcher in the Rye, although I'm not a fan of it.

Thanks, Sherry. A couple of remarks on the excellent discussion that I sadly had to miss when it was current:

Ichiro (the grandson) -- I don't know what his presence means, beyond the culture clash that others have mentioned. Still, I appreciated his presence if only for the comic relief in an otherwise very somber book. His behavior, in trying to act much older than he really is, rings true for boys of that age. I can't explain Ono's guidance except that perhaps he is trying to steer the boy away from his own son's dire fate. Or maybe Ono feels so alienated by his daughters that he seeks a partner against them, even at the cost of the boy's manners.

Posters -- A wise friend of mine says "posters are good art that I can afford". I agree completely and have a couple dozen posters on my apartment walls.

Post-War Japan -- There is a controversial Akira Kurosawa film that deals with some of these issues like old Japan vs. new Japan, the pros and cons of Westernization, and the aftermath of WWII. It's called Rhapsody in August and was one of Kurosawa's last films before he died. I highly recommend it, if you are interested in these topics.

Remains of the Day -- I agree that it is very similar to this book, in tone and structure. There is even some overlap with WWII regret and defensiveness. On the other hand, the setting and characters are so completely different. For me, the two books are equals, yet distinct enough to make reading both very worthwhile.

Ishiguro -- He does not provide any easy answers, and maybe no answers at all. The genius of his writing is that it allows us to enjoy the story while also exposing the meta levels. Nothing about his books is obvious, yet they are much easier to digest and begin pondering than other literature of similar complexity. It sounds like his approach leaves some readers unsatisfied, but I find myself very satisfied by the last page, and increasingly so as I devote further thought to the tale. My only worry as I seek out his other books is that structural patterns will form, due to the narrative style, that will be distracting. However, Never Let Me Go is different enough from the other two I've read, so that gives me hope.

I just finished the book this morning; thought I'd post my immediate impressions before going back to read the whole thread, which will probably prompt more posting.

This book cements Ishiguro as one of my favorite modern writers. Much like Remains of the Day, it's a story that seems dry and slow on the surface, yet creeps under your skin and sends your mind reeling when you stop to think about what's really going on.

I love the first-person perspective, and Ishiguro is a master of the technique. Of course his narrators are unreliable. All narrators are unreliable; using a primary character as the narrator just brings that fact into the light. What's different in this book is that Ono admits, multiple times, to being unreliable. He often recounts a conversation from the past and then qualifies it by questioning the accuracy of his memory. It's exactly what a man of his age and doubts should be doing.

One of the themes of the novel is how artistic people over-analyze and often inflate the social impact of their works. It's likely that Ono's imperialist paintings were very influential among his peers. However, the broader relevance to Japan's citizens and decision-makers is highly dubious. Yet Ono is so wracked with guilt over the social damage he may have caused that he can't let go of the idea that he is a truly important, even historic, player in WWII Japan.

The novel is essentially a revisionist diary of an irrelevant retiree with illusions of grandeur. He feigns modesty, as Japanese culture demands, but the story is one account after another of his famous past and the supposed aftershocks of his controversial art. The narrator makes no serious attempt to hide this motivation. The very first memory he recounts is about winning a mansion based entirely on his prestige. Perhaps that memory is truthful, but as the book continues, it seems increasingly likely that his fame and influence are far more limited that he would like to believe. Eventually, he resorts to confiding remorse to friends and family in an attempt to cement his reputation, leaving some of these people confounded as to what he could be apologizing for.

The daughter Setsuko's assertion, late in the book, that some cathartic discussions never took place leads me to believe this may actually be the diary of a man entering a state of dementia. Perhaps he even realizes this on some level, and the story is his attempt to record important memories before they escape him completely.

My (public) school and local public libraries had plenty of copies of the Bible, as well as many other religious texts. These books should be accessible to the public just like any others.

I don't have a problem with the fact that processes exist by which books can be challenged. However, I wish people didn't actually use those processes.

You're correct that everything should be debatable. That is the essence of free speech. However, in terms of literature in particular, I think the debate over the value, worth, appropriateness, etc. of a book should be an intellectual one, just like all the discussions we have here at CR. Access to books and just about all other information is not something I believe should be compromised. In other words, I don't think an angry parent's freedom of speech to voice an opinion about a book should have the power (or potential) to shut down someone else's access to that book.

Yes Michael, I should have said "attempts at censorship". mia culpa

I don't think my experience in fighting a book challenge was worth the danger of that book being banned from the class. That's like saying the civic experience of jury duty justifies crimes being committed, to continue your analogy.

Thank God we haven't had any official, nation-wide book bannings in a long time. But these local challenges are censorship just the same. Fortunately, it appears from the list that most are defeated.

The problem with library challenges, as explained in the introduction on the list itself, is that they actually threaten parents' abilities to direct their children's reading access. The people making these challenges have already done their due diligence in paying attention to their kids' books and stepping in when they think it's necessary. I applaud them for that. The problem is when they try to impose their judgements on everyone else, by requesting that materials be removed from circulation. In other words, they are trying to do all the other parents' jobs too.

It is true that we live in the Information Age, when almost anything can be had online, for free, to anyone regardless of age (or maturity). Books, however, are significantly harder to find on the Internet than newspapers, magazine, movies, TV shows, video games, even comic books. For a young child with little or no personal income, the school or public library may be the only source for these books.

The Joy of Sex is not a book I'm familiar with, but I would hesitate to reduce it to a "sex manual". Would you say the same of the Kama Sutra? Certainly, I've always thought Bob Ross's The Joy of Painting was far more than a painting manual. Let's not be hasty in typecasting books we haven't read; that is exactly the problem in most of the book challenges from the list.

I think anyone following this discussion would find the following link interesting:

http://jaslarue.blogspot.com/2008/07/unc...

It is a letter from a (deeply thoughtful and respectful) librarian to a patron who has challenged a book. Some of his arguments are very specific to the book in question, but I think many apply to at least some of the books on the list, particularly To Kill a Mockingbird and The Grapes of Wrath.

I should note that when I was in high school, right around the time I first joined Constant Reader in 1999 or 2000, The Grapes of Wrath was required reading for my senior English course. The book was challenged by a parent, which was shocking not only for the age of students in this class (most of us were 17 or 18 years old) but also because this particular parent was a teacher herself and should have known better. My teacher, a brilliant woman named Janet who used to be an active member here at CR (and was the one who suggested I join) was very upset by the challenge. She came to me in confidence (I was still her student at the time!) and asked if I would write a letter of support for the book to the Board of Education, which I was happy to do. Fortunately, the challenge was defeated, and future classes had the opportunity to read, discuss, and write about this important book. And if any student disagreed on its importance or moral values, they were free to put those thoughts into an articulate analysis for credit! Janet was the kind of teacher who welcomed thoughtful objections and debate from her students.

I will avoid reading this thread until I'm deeper into the book (or have finished it, which looks like it won't take long at the current pace). Just wanted to say that I finally found a library copy and look forward to catching up on the discussion. I'm sorry that I couldn't participate when it first began. One of the few times I've taken the initiative to try keeping up with the CR lists, and I couldn't even buy the book at any local book stores!

I like CR's own definition of "classic" for Classics Corner -- any book with lasting value. It's vague, perhaps, but so are genre distinctions and most other kinds of classification when applied to artistic works.

When I think about what books will be well known in 100 years, these are some that come to mind:

- To Kill a Mockingbird
- Dune
- At least one Kazuo Ishiguro book, not sure which
- At least one Cormac McCarthy book, not sure which

One common trait of my list is that these books take place in a specific time period that is not even contemporary with when they were written. You could perhaps make an argument that "eternal" books tend to avoid temporal specifics, but I think readers like to have clear ideas of the setting and the context of how characters are living in that era. In 100 years from now, To Kill a Mockingbird will still establish its early 20th century world and tell a gripping story within that world. Same with Dune and its epic tale set 10,000 years in the future.

I picked up this book at a Dollar General store for, you guessed it, $1, brand new. A buddy and I were driving through North Alabama on the way to the Bonnaroo Music Festival, and I thought it was funny to find such a book in such a place at all. Obviously, it wasn't a local best seller.

My exposure to Al Franken's political side was limited before this book, as I never listened to Air America (probably didn't even have the option) and haven't read his earlier books. The Truth is more investigative than comedic. Although Franken is adept with literary humor (which is much harder than TV comedy, I'd think), he sometimes resorts to easy marks like Rush Limbaugh's girth/drugs/divorces, which must have been lame even in 2005.

The book is at its best when Franken digs into well-known political events and extracts novel information, or at least perspectives. There is too much partisan sniping for my taste (perhaps he'd developed the habit on his radio show), but the investigations are fascinating.

The fact that Franken is now in the U.S. Senate adds an extra facet to some of his stances in the book. I don't know if he will be a good Senator, and he's certainly less moderate on many issues than me, but I think Franken will at least thoroughly research his priorities, based on the content of this book. That alone would be an improvement over many of his colleagues in the Upper House.

I checked two local bookstores, both of them large, and neither had a copy of this book! I could order it online, but I felt spiteful after my second strike-out and bought a cheap copy of The Road instead. I'll just search for the Ishiguro when I get back to Colorado and my awesome public library.

David, I'm glad you liked The Apartment. It took me by surprise -- almost raunchy, but that era's standards, yet highly intelligent as well. It was the first time I had thought highly of a Jack Lemmon performance, but that was before I saw Glengarry Glen Ross. Fred MacMurray is also great in The Apartment, although not as good as he is in Double Indemnity (another Billy Wilder film). For someone who grew up seeing MacMurray in Disney films and family sitcoms on Nick at Night, it was shocking to see him display real acting chops in these very adult film characters.

I'm going to try playing along with this one. I have enjoyed past experiences with Ishiguro so much! His writing seems to flow easily and remain palatable even when the subject matter seems dry or uncomfortable.

I think I've nominated it for Classics Corner in the past, but I'll do so again if I'm around for the next phase.

Ruth, I'm doing a graduate internship at NASA this summer. Going well so far.

I think you ladies should try Ender's Game. It is science fiction, and it does strike me as a masculine book, but quality should trump these considerations. One nice thing is that it doesn't focus on futuristic technology or weird aliens; all the characters are human, and the problems they deal with are part of human nature. Much of the book focuses on a game the children play, which is like laser tag in zero-gravity. It seems like a lot to wrap your head around, but the author explains it pretty well in the beginning. If you can follow a Quidditch match, you can handle this. (Wow, I'm realizing more and more connections to Harry Potter.)

I'm not sure why, but sometimes I get the urge to re-read favorite books in the summer. Recently, I revisited two very different classics. Does anyone else do this? Maybe the bug hits some people in the winter, instead.

I last read The Wind in the Willows during my study abroad in Russia, in 2003. There is a two-week period of summer in St. Petersburg when the weather becomes unbearably hot all day, and of course "all day" is about 23 hours long on the edge of the Arctic Circle. It was too hot to walk around the city, or to do anything indoors (no one has air conditioning), or to get any exercise. The best solution seemed to be reading a good book in the shade, where I could still feel the breeze. I would buy English books and sit under a cafe's awning near my dormitory, sipping water or Coke all afternoon and blazing through classic literature. My favorite book from that period was Grahame's. I grew up with the Disney version and wrongly assumed it to be a children's book. The Wind in the Willows is rather a book to make adults feel like children. It is so innocent and beautiful, yet funny and sophisticated. That seems like a nearly impossible balance, but it's all here on the page. The book is really a set of short stories with minimal narrative continuity. My favorite is "Piper at the Gates of Dawn", a hymn to nature that inspired the title of Pink Floyd's first album. You have to admire Grahame's audacity in completely ignoring physical logic: the animal characters are sometimes small, sometimes human-sized, wearing human clothes but following natural instincts, and the Badger and Mole enjoy a hot side of bacon. The only rules are those ingrained in the passing of the seasons.

In contrast, Ender's Game is a book to make children feel like adults. It is a story about rules and how to break them in the most spectacular way imaginable. I originally read it in my first year of college, at least eight years ago (and I'm still enrolled!). It has an incredible momentum, the very definition of a "page-turner" or "life interrupter". I read it so quickly last time that I didn't absorb it very well, and for years I thought about returning for another ride. It definitely holds up, and my second reading led to some new observations and certainly a renewed appreciation for the book and its complexities. The story is spoiler-prone, so I'll just say that it's about a very young, extremely intelligent child who is plucked from his parents to be trained as a soldier and commander in the war against hostile aliens. Ender is almost certainly one of the prototypes for Harry Potter, and no reader could finish this book without feeling thrilled at his accomplishments and horrified at how the military is using him. As one of the children turns eleven years old, weary from daily combat training, half his life spent at the Battle School, the author suggests that if someone asked this boy what he wants to be when he grows up, the kid wouldn't even understand the question. That, to me, is the brilliance of Ender's Game -- it's heavy, philosophical material wrapped in an irresistible story with mass appeal.

It's a shame that he didn't live to see the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11's landing, on Monday. That event is so closely associated with Walter Cronkite; I have a feeling there will be many memorials for him throughout the coverage. We've had few space advocates as earnest or effective as Cronkite.

Ginger is a common flavor at gelato establishments, at least around here. I like to pair it with a fruit flavor, otherwise it can be a bit strong.

That's a great article... and now I must try bacon-and-brown-sugar ice cream!

Thanks! The korokke had sauteed onions and ground beef filling (but mostly mashed potatoes). I mixed pecan bits into the panko bread crumbs for the breading, since I had a lot of pecans leftover from my pesto. The sauce is extremely easy to make, and it could work for many dishes. Just combine one small bottle of ketchup with one small jar of grape jelly (not jam, it won't be a smooth) and stir for a while over low heat. You can also slow cook the sauce; my family uses it for cocktail weenies. I added soy sauce in this version for more Japanese flavor.