This is a quiet, small book. But one that really sneaks up on you with its humor, wit, and startling awareness of human behavior. My High School Engli...moreThis is a quiet, small book. But one that really sneaks up on you with its humor, wit, and startling awareness of human behavior. My High School English teacher always liked to call Shakespeare "the best psychologist of all time". I will now nominate Barbara Pym as "the second best".
Edwin, Letty, Norman and Marcia are four office workers nearing retirement age. The work that they do in the office is never explained nor does it seem to actually matter. Their entire department is literally being phased out as soon as they each retire. In almost any sense of the word, these are not four people that matter.
The things that people do and the reasons that they do them is what this book is about. But Pym achieves this artfully--without any long blocks of text giving insight into the deepest motivations of her characters. Nor are their motivations ever "deep".
--they are not sure how to navigate a social situation --they would like for something to be different but choose to trudge on --they try and fail to connect with someone --they feel slighted in some way and they simmer in that slight
Those mundane emotions are the stuff of life, Pym tells us.
While the subject of this novel (lonely old people) could be extremely depressing, Pym's wonderfully subtle humor stops it from ever being melodramatic. Whether dealing with the death of a main character or the petty grievances of returning a milk bottle, there's a levity to her storytelling.
But what I loved so much about this book is that we never laugh at the expense of these awkward, unlucky people. Rather, Pym is including us in her descriptions of her characters --"this is how WE, all people, are" she says. Because you can't help but recognize some parts of yourself in her detailed, brilliantly perceptive observations of such ordinary moments. You remember similar missed connections, simmering in similar pettiness, similar instances of choosing loneliness over the risk of embarrassment.
"Quartet in Autumn" is an extraordinary book for how hard Pym tries to understand people--and for how well she succeeds.(less)
I really dislike this book. To be honest, the best word to describe my dislike for this book is "petty". A quarter of the way through I started to res...moreI really dislike this book. To be honest, the best word to describe my dislike for this book is "petty". A quarter of the way through I started to resent that Miranda July and Margaret Atwood wrote kind blurbs that appear on the back cover. As in, I held the book in my hand, flipped it over, re-read the comments from these two writers that I admire, and sat there resenting them. Petty, right?
"How Should a Person Be", by Sheila Heti, is a very experimental, stream-of-consciousness novel/"fictionalized memoir" about a woman named Sheila that lives in Toronto and has a lot of artsy friends, with one friend in particular, a painter named Margaux, becoming extremely important to her. Heti often writes in short declarative sentences and sometimes uses startling images. She has a talent for describing moments where we feel awkward or uncertain. A lot of this book is written in the format of a play. There isn't really a plot; just a series of moments that rarely last more than a few pages.
Heti is (obviously) a talented writer and I was often very impressed with her observations. Still, this book was extremely pointless. Much of it is transcripts of conversations that contain a Witty Moment. Invariably, this Witty Moment was the end of the conversation. And then when you turned the page, it was a new chapter, a new conversation.
"Ta-da!", Heti seems to be saying. "That was deep, right?"
Sometimes, instead of a conversation we got a quirky scene. A man runs into a bar and starts smashing bottles and quoting Milton. And the Witty Moment of that scene is the following exchange: asked if he ever read Milton, a character responds
"I read an introduction to one of his books. I only read the introductions. That's where all the information is, and that is where it all happens."
Sheila is presenting this as wisdom. I think it is stupid. Mind-numbingly stupid.
The thing is that "Witty Moments" have limited value. They are like the literary version of junk food. You enjoy the first 5 or 6 chocolate squares, the first two handfuls of french fries. But then you start longing for a glass of water, an apple, a spinach salad, and a nice brisk walk. Reading too many pages of this book made me long to pick up Barbara Pym's "Quartet in Autumn" which I had started reading around the same time. Pym's novel is about 4 elderly office workers whose lives are defined by loneliness. Nothing much ever happens but it is a stunning, quietly brilliant book. And the more of it I read, the more I lost patience with "How Should a Person be"; the more I wanted Heti to grow up and to actually do the hard work of writing a book.
One last complaint...Heti subjects us to pages upon pages of absolutely horrible erotic prose. The words "c*ck", "f*ck*ng", "c*m" and "c*nt" have never been so overused or so boring. This woman is in her 30's but she writes about sex like a virgin with an overactive imagination.
I'm not someone who's cynical about the avant garde. When I go to a museum, I don't make tired jokes about abstract art. I embrace what's different and ambitious. I'm open and open-minded. Which is to say that it feels very lonely to be excluded from what makes this book special, since Margaret Atwood and Miranda July seem so convinced that it is....
But I've decided to be okay with that. Whatever is good about this book, whatever parts of it have value, are floating around in a sea of self-indulgence. I would much prefer to stay in Barbara Pym's carefully realized world than spend time in Sheila Heti's witty fragments.
(Thank you to the publisher for my Advanced Reader's Copy.)(less)
It's odd to recommend a book even though I didn't like it myself. But that's basically the case with "The Year of the Gadfly". If you read the synopsi...moreIt's odd to recommend a book even though I didn't like it myself. But that's basically the case with "The Year of the Gadfly". If you read the synopsis (a 14 year old aspiring journalist gets embroiled in a mystery at her posh high school) and are hoping this novel will be clever and well-written, it is.
What I will say about myself is that I like big books about big things (ambitious, sprawling novels about "Important Things"). Or I like small books about big things (simple books that are unexpectedly also about "Important Things").
What I don't much like are big books about small things. And while it was more literary than YA Lit, that is what "The Year of the Gadfly" is. It is the elaborate story of a secret society at posh a high school, told from the point of view of three characters in two timelines, one of whom is a high schooler with an Edward Murrow obsession.
Much of the plot depends on suspended disbelief. I often found myself wondering "How could anyone have possibly known that?" or "Now how did they manage to do that?". The plot also depends on the reader having a great deal of interest on the goings-on of a posh high school. Which I really didn't have.
I am happy to read about about "Important Things" like what it means to grow up, or how we deal with being different than other people. But this book is mostly about how this secret society pulled off one implausible prank or another. Small things.
And yet that doesn't take away from it being exactly what it is advertised as being: a well-written and entertaining account of mysterious events that take place at a high school. I just happen to not be the right audience for a book like that!
Thank you to the publisher for my Advanced Reader's Copy.(less)
A week after finishing this incredibly charming novel, it has settled in my mind as the image of a colorful tapestry similar to those I bought when I...moreA week after finishing this incredibly charming novel, it has settled in my mind as the image of a colorful tapestry similar to those I bought when I visited South America a few years ago. The tapestries depicted a scene with many different characters interacting in some sort of communal space, like a park or a town square. If you look closely you can make out all the little stories--people getting married, buying fruit, riding their bicycle, hanging up laundry etc. When you step back again, to look at the whole picture, what you see is a whirl of colors and patterns that feels impossible to understand.
"White Teeth" is a sprawling tapestry of London. While the people in Zadie Smith's scene revolve around three families--the Jones', the Iqbals, and the Chalfens-- truly everyone that is touched by her pen gets a generously specific identity. (Even a Polish security guard, appearing for barely five lines, a few pages away from the end of the novel, gets to have a story). The plot revolves around two middle-aged friends-- Samad, a high-minded Bangladeshi waiter and Archie, a nondescript paper folder--who marry younger women and then raise children in Willesden, a working class suburb. Over the next two decades the intimacy between these men extends to their wives and children; the closeness of the two families becomes the most enduring relationship of the novel, (even with the intrusion of the Chalfens, who march in halfway and cause havoc).
"White Teeth" is about the ways that the past remains ever relevant, the claims that immigrants can make on Britishness (and that Britishness can make on immigrants), and about the smallness of London, the ways that different people are forced to interact and react to each other. Smith peoples her tapestry with a cast of Muslims, Bangladeshis, lapsed Jehovahs witnessess, devout Jehovahs witnesses, staunch atheists, Jewish intellectuals, animal rights activists, Jamaicans, lesbians, potheads, old racists and so on and so forth. She draws on pop culture and high-brow culture--invoking the jealousy of Shakespeare's Iago on one page, the swagger of mafia movies on the next. And what's really fun is the energy with which she shows off not only that cultural knowledge, not only that skill (and affection) for words, but also her understanding of different subgroups of Londoners.
Here is her description of a group of Muslim teens:
"Their ethos, their manifesto, if it could be called that, was equally a hybrid thing: Allah featured, but more as a collective big brother than a supreme being, a hard-as-fuck geezer who would fight in their corner if necessary; kung fu and the works of Bruce Lee were also central to the philosophy....but mainly their mission was to put the Invincible back in Indian, the Bad-aaaaass back in Bengali, the P-Funk back in Pakistani."
This fluent way of articulating how a group of non-white, working-class teens would interpret Islam is characteristic of her sensitivity to the ways that culture and religion are used in the ways that are most useful. Beyond the clever plot and the clever writing, these kinds of observations, this smart commentary on the immigrant experience was so much of what I really appreaciated about "White Teeth".
What left the biggest impression of this book was the great FUN that it must have been to write it. Truly. That joy translates onto every page and it makes "White Teeth" a joy to read. (less)
This is a book about a creature that I find icky, ugly, weird and (literally) slimey. Still, I have rarely been as fascinated or entertained as I was...moreThis is a book about a creature that I find icky, ugly, weird and (literally) slimey. Still, I have rarely been as fascinated or entertained as I was when reading this wonderful account of a year spent observing a wild snail.
Elizabeth Tova Bailey was transformed, almost overnight, from a healthy, active person to one that lived her life in bed. Her affliction was a mysterious illness that made her weak to the point of near-paralysis. It was impossible to sit up or read and even listening to music was too overwhelming. Her entertainment was the occasional visit from friends or looking out at the walls and the ceiling of her bedroom.
By chance, a friend brings her a little snail and it comes to live in a terrarium on her bedside table. Thus begins the "relationship" between a snail and a bedridden woman, living life side by side, at more or less the same pace. Through the sheer amount of time spent staring at it, Bailey learns the snail's quirky habits. It slept during the day and explored at night. It chewed perfect little squares through her postcards. It walked on a carpet of its own slime. It swayed gently from left to right while chomping on a mushroom. And when it ate, there was a teeny, tiny sound.
From this comes the title of this book. Within the isolation of illness "The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating" becomes something truly important to her.
While Bailey writes about this snail (which she calls "my snail") with tremendous affection, this book is never cutesy. It's written in incredibly elegant prose and interspersed with her own observations is scientific research she conducted talking to malacologists (mollusk experts).
Much of this research also came from the writing of 19th century naturalists. This was such a treat because, as it turns out, 19th century naturalists were basically poets. They wrote about snails using such vivid imagery and with such sensitivity to all its snailish wants and needs.
Take this passage on the snail's wantonness:
"The snail is, in fact, a very model lover. [It] will spend hours . . . paying attentions the most assiduous to the object of [its] affections,” proclaimed the author of “Snails and Their Houses.”
Another passage reads: “Circumspection in feeling, dainty voracity, and immoderate lust appear to constitute the spiritual character of the . . . Snails.”
Overall, this enthusiasm for the strange little snail is what's so great about this book. While I am an animal lover, I guess the animals I love are ones whose charms are more easily accessible. When I looked up a picture of the white-lipped forest snail, the species that Bailey identified her snail belonging to.... I was completely disgusted! In other words, my enjoyment of this book is secondhand. I don't enjoy the snail. I enjoy their enjoyment of the snail.
Overall, the image of this woman finding such inspiration in that creature, that it became her link to the world of the living, is oddly compelling and genuinely moving.
The great writing, (from Bailey and all the 19th century naturalists she quotes), the information itself (the snail is a bizarre creature that can grow limbs at will, hibernates for years at a time and switches back and forth between the genders during sex) and the semi-happy ending (that she wrote this book is proof that Bailey's condition has improved at least somewhat) all make for something incredibly unique and wonderful.
"The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating" is very short (more like a long essay) but has a huge impact. I highly recommend it!(less)
I feel like Leslie Daniels is a much better writer than the book that she actually wrote, if that makes any sense at all. She has a wonderful, literar...moreI feel like Leslie Daniels is a much better writer than the book that she actually wrote, if that makes any sense at all. She has a wonderful, literary voice. But it isn't well-served by the melodrama of her debut novel. And I would be really interested to see what she does in the future.
The premise of "Cleaning Nabokov's House" is clever. A woman buys a home that had once been lived in by the famous author and, finding an unfinished manuscript that might have been his, decides to share it with the world. I found this idea really exciting and creative and I expected this novel to be about Nabokov, writing, words, and the importance of books. It is a little bit about these things. But as it turns out, the fascinating discovery of Nabokov's treasure is secondary to this woman's experiences losing custody of her children due to a series of events that are described as unlucky. Well, sort of.
100 pages into this book I grew suspicious that I was reading chick lit. The main character was making yet another reference to the way that her children smell. The problem with her sleeping with her children's pajamas under her pillow, or sitting in their rooms to inhale the scent, etc, etc, etc is that the reasons that she lost custody of her children are valid ones, rather than bad luck. Daniels consistently presents this character as "Someone who seeks redemption after bad people did bad things to her", detailing all the many ways she has been wronged and expressing how badly she needs a comeback. But at the beginning of this book this character had left her husband and is sleeping in her car. Why is she sleeping in her car? We are given one line to explain this "No one knows that it's only in my car that I feel like myself." Well.... okay. But sleeping in her car, peeing in the woods and wearing the same clothes day after day, is not the behavior of a stable or responsible adult. And this behavior is why she lost custody of her children. That is what happened. So this book is really about "Someone who seeks redemption after she did crazy things that caused her hardship." The cartoonish evilness of her ex-husband seemed beside the point.
Whenever I lost patience with seeing anything related to the custody battle or her ex-husband etc, etc, Daniels would finally write about Nabokov. Or she would treat us to a lovely bit of dialogue with an eccentric publisher. Or she would make interesting observations about small town upstate New York. All that stuff was so great. But soon enough we were back to some entirely unsubtle scene with her ex-husband. His car is bigger than hers. And his new dog growled at her. And she wanted a Danish but he just wants coffee. And she doesn't just get up and get a Danish because.... "John is someone with whom you never get what you want. Even if what you want is a Danish."
Sigh. Soon after that scene, I decided to stop reading this novel.
Ultimately, this woman just isn't that good at life. She makes awful decisions and is generally inept. I think reading about someone who isn't good at life can be great as long as it's clear that this was the author's intention. Which it absurdly wasn't in this book. We are supposed to root for her and despair at how others have hurt her in various ways. I never felt anything close to that.
Someone so incapable of conducting even the most basic affairs of her own life is the wrong person to make such an interesting discovery as Nabokov's unpublished manuscript! And Daniels has so much more to offer than this "hapless 40 year old with an evil ex-husband". She actually is a good writer.
I want to give my thanks to the publisher for sending me an advance reader's copy! (less)
There's a wonderful enthusiasm to Walter Borneman's accounting of these four incredible naval figures, and that was the most enjoyable part of this ex...moreThere's a wonderful enthusiasm to Walter Borneman's accounting of these four incredible naval figures, and that was the most enjoyable part of this extremely well-researched book. Any military history buff would really devour such a barrage of information.
For me, who is definitely not a military history buff, it felt like a bit of a slog and I realized I was eager to read about World War II from an angle that wasn't quite so specific. So I abandoned this book. But out of my own impatience, not because it lacks merit, and I really appreciate the advance reader's copy provided by the publisher. (less)
This book is like an onion. You peel one layer of nonsense and your reward is another layer of nonsense. And then if you peel that one.... Well, you g...moreThis book is like an onion. You peel one layer of nonsense and your reward is another layer of nonsense. And then if you peel that one.... Well, you get the idea.
First, I will point out that this is a self-help book, not, as I had thought, one of those memoirs Augusten Burroughs is known and beloved for and which I have always been really curious about. The title is SO explicit that it's a self-help book that I really have no excuse. But I was genuinely surprised that "This is How" basically consists of declarative sentences about the things that people should do with their lives. That's what it is. Sentences like these:
"When you try to do or be something, you can't do it or be it. Because trying is not the same as being. Trying flies in a circle around the moment and being is inside of it."
"Confidence is not something you feel or posses; it's something others use to describe what they see when they look at you."
"Shame exists because remote controls for people don't. Shame pushes the button and makes the other person change their channel."
It may seem that I am being unkind to Mr. Burroughs by presenting lines of his book without context, but I am actually not being all that unkind. Context doesn't help him that much. In fact, while reading this book, my reaction to it, line by line, was either "That's terrible advice" or "That doesn't mean anything." I don't think I've ever talked back to a book quite so much.
When he says that if you want to lose weight you should let yourself eat whatever you want all the time because then food will stop being tempting (okay, food will never ever stop being tempting!!) unless you just secretly don't want to lose weight because the last time you were skinny you got too much attention (what?) in which case just accept yourself. Well, accepting yourself is all well and good but I think we all know about that option. Doing it seems more like what people need help with. He doesn't HELP anyone accept themselves, he merely tells them to do it. "Accept yourself." Okay. Thanks. I will. By the way, he suggests you try his method (eating all the cake and ice cream you want) for a few years because that's how long it takes to work. And that was it for that problem! On to solving the next one.
If you've been single for too long you should stop trying to impress anyone you ever go on a date with because they should love you for who you really are. Burroughs was, obviously, very impressed with this banal advice because he elaborated it for several pages. Here's the thing: there's nothing wrong with smiling, telling your funniest story, and being well-groomed when you show up to spend a couple of hours with someone new. These courtesies are not the cause of anyone's loneliness. Nor is "being yourself" something that really means anything specific or useful. His other advice, to not go to the same supermarket all the time and to rotate dry cleaners etc... sigh. Is that really how people fall in love? Because whenever a guy hits on me at the dry cleaners I tell him to f--k off.
While this book isn't good because the advice is so useless, what merited the one star rating is that I didn't see how or why Burroughs was qualified to be giving this (bad) advice. What makes him someone to listen to? He didn't seem like a particularly wise person to me. Nor does he ever really posit himself as one. Which was a problem for me. I am aware that he's a famous writer. I do need more than that.
Even something as simple as a little personal experience would be just fine. "My significant other and I...." None of this is present. He just starts doling out his pearls of wisdom without ever assuring the reader that he's an expert. Maybe it's because he can't. Burroughs tackles nearly any and every issue that a person could worry about. I mean, who is really an expert at life??
It's literally the case that he sat at his laptop, made a list of problems people have, and then wrote some shallow advice to address all it. I guess I just find that truly, truly offensive.
Although maybe I would find any and every self-help book offensive....
If you are reading this review because you are thinking about buying it, please don't. The only value of this book is that it's an excuse to sit there and think about your problems, which is good to do sometimes, actually. But you do that anyway, right? Instead of this book buy some good literature. Or buy a good memoir. Good writing CAN teach you about the world and about yourself and about the things that matter. Absolutely. That is why we read.
Meanwhile, someone who claims to have the answer to all your problems is the one you can immediately eliminate as having answers to any.
All that said......um.....thanks to the publisher for my advanced reader's copy!(less)
"The Lonely Polygamist", the story of a Mormon family that includes four wives and 28 children, is one of the most cinematic books I ever read. The de...more"The Lonely Polygamist", the story of a Mormon family that includes four wives and 28 children, is one of the most cinematic books I ever read. The detailed setting, the intricate interactions of the characters, the moment by moment narration etc., all followed the arc of a movie scene. And we're not talking about a subtle foreign film. This was definitely a Hollywood dramedy-- the kind with a star cast and a big budget.
This quality was both a strength and weakness. On the one hand "The Lonely Polygamist" was often predictable and heavy-handed in its sentimentality. But on the other hand, it was genuinely funny-- funny in a familiar way, playing on well-worn tropes about what men and women are like, or about what boys and girls are like. We are always half a step ahead of the joke. I feel sure that in any other book I would have lost patience with this immediately. But Brady Udall is such a hard-working and light-footed writer that, for me, it very often worked.
The plot of this book is simple: Golden Richards, a man who is easily overwhelmed in general, is having difficulty managing his hectic family. There is never quite enough time and he doesn't feel up to the task. All this leads to his having an affair (something that is revealed in the very first line of the the novel). The novel unfolds from the point of view of both Golden and his two most neglected family members; his young wife Trish and Rusty, his unruly pre-teen son. The characters were incredibly consistent--too much so. Much like in a Hollywood dramedy, Udall rarely steers away from the basic character sketch he creates at the very beginning. For example, Trish is sexually unfulfilled and desperate to have another child even after a family tragedy made these desires feel extremely off-key. And Golden is a bumbling husband all the way to the last page, a point when I had really grown tired of it.
Overall, though, the writing of The Lonely Polygamist was quite wonderful and, despite all the physical gags(!), definitely literary. I would recommend it to anyone who is in the mood for this kind of mix-- bittersweet humor, a PINCH of melodrama, a sprawling family with all the complicated stories of sprawling families. And writing that actually lifts the material. (less)
"Of Mice and Men" is so widely read since it's required at most schools. But I hope that doesn't mean we take it for granted.
On this re-reading one o...more"Of Mice and Men" is so widely read since it's required at most schools. But I hope that doesn't mean we take it for granted.
On this re-reading one of the elements I gained was the character of Crooks, the clever black stable hand languishing with loneliness. I also saw Curley's wife in a different light-- one that understood how her loneliness guided her relationship with the men. And there's Candy, lonely for his smelly old dog, wanting to be part of George and Lennie's piece of paradise, wanting to go to the circus or a baseball game if he ever did feel like it.
At that time that I read this when I was 11, I guess none of them made much of an impression. I saw only Lennie and the innocence of his dreams. And I thought that was the point. On this second reading, I realized that almost everyone had innocent dreams and maybe THAT was the point. Because George too, has innocent dreams, even though he should know better (having manufactured those dreams for Lennie's sake).
Lennie is the way that he is because of his mental disability. But really, he's the way that he is because he is human. The desire for companionship, the innocent optimism, the potential for destruction, those things are human. They are just all bigger in him than usual.
This is such a powerful little book, with dialogue that truly sings.
A masterpiece. And an absolute treat to re-read!(less)
Half-way through reading this collection of essays I mused to a friend that I wanted to skin Zadie Smith to that I could make a Zadie Smith suit and t...moreHalf-way through reading this collection of essays I mused to a friend that I wanted to skin Zadie Smith to that I could make a Zadie Smith suit and then wear it. This friend backed away from me very slowly. It was a reminder that I am just not someone who can pull off edgy humor.
I am an aspiring writer who is black and female and emigrated to the United States with my family from the Dominican Republic when I was very young. Zadie Smith is a black, female writer whose mother is from a different Caribbean country, Jamaica, and emigrated to a different English-speaking former colonial power, Britain. At the tender age of 21, Zadie Smith wrote and published a critically acclaimed novel and has been a literary superstar ever since. I am 26, soon to be 27, and I have not written any brilliant novels as of yet.
My extreme jealousy of Zadie Smith's Cinderella-esque story is literally the only reason why I have never read any of her novels.
The idea of a black female writer so close to my age, and who shares so many points in my biography, feels personal. One who has achieved such a stratospheric level of success? That felt personal too, for whatever silly reason. That she's shockingly beautiful, and married to a shockingly handsome, equally brilliant man.... Yes, that too.
I don't know why my fascination with her became so problematic. Eventually it reached the point where trying to read her books was like trying to watch a movie with Angelina Jolie who, while I like her very much, is hard to watch in films. I know so much about her personal life, from seeing it splashed on tabloids whenever I stand in line at the supermarket, that I can no longer see the character she's supposed to be playing on the screen. I just see Angelina Jolie. Angelina walking, Angelina talking, Angelina crying etc.
All of this is to say that I decided to read Zadie Smith's essays in order to ease myself into the possibility of reading her novels. If I could cozy up to Zadie, the person, maybe she might stop being a celebrity. And maybe that would allow me to crack open the copy of "White Teeth" that I've owned for at least 5 or 6 years.
So, as it turns out, Zadie Smith is quite charming and brilliant.
Zadie Smith loves classic movies and writes about them with endearing familiarity. Zadie Smith went to Liberia and wrote about the difficulties of that very poor country with warmth, without euphemisms and while managing to present Liberians as complex people. Zadie Smith writes about stand-up comedy the way literary critics write about Shakespeare. Zadie Smith calls her father Harvey. Harvey died and she wrote about her deep sadness without ever being melodramatic. Zadie Smith was invited to Hollywood for the Oscars, met many celebrities, and wrote a wonderful account of that experience without mentioning any of them by name. Zadie Smith demystifies David Foster Wallace and does it without pretentiousness. Or, rather, she makes pretentiousness look appealing. Because most of us use that word when we feel excluded from understanding or appreciating something and Zadie Smith does NOT want you to be excluded. I've never seen someone try as hard to guide a confused reader as she labored at explaining David Foster Wallace. Zadie Smith tried and tried. When it was all over, I was exhausted on her behalf.
Zadie Smith charmed me in any and every way. I would read her thoughts on anything. If she wrote about reality television or wrestling or growing bonsai trees, I would read it.
In some ways, reading this book has hardly solved my problem. The idea of ZADIE SMITH has only grown bigger and more textured. I am drowning in the zadiesmithness of it all. Except that now the biggest part of that is my knowledge of her passion for the craft of writing.
Of course I will read her novels. Of course. I so genuinely respect her and how thoughtful and observant and witty she is. That she happens to have such an extraordinary life no longer seems relevant.
But that doesn't mean that I didn't spend my morning on Youtube looking for clips of her interviews, and then patiently watching all of them. Because that actually is how I spent my morning. And I learned that Zadie Smith has such lovely eyebrows and luminous skin. And... well, I do want to wear a Zadie Smith suit. But only metaphorically, I promise. And I am now really looking forward to "White Teeth". (less)
The things I read are usually in response to a specific craving. "Italian Food memoir" or "John Steinbeck novella" will appear in my head, and then I...moreThe things I read are usually in response to a specific craving. "Italian Food memoir" or "John Steinbeck novella" will appear in my head, and then I look around to see what will indulge it. A few months ago a craving for "Quirky short stories" led me to Aimee Bender's extremely disappointing "The Girl in the Flammable Skirt". I gave up half-way and set out to find an alternative. "No One Belongs Here More than You" ended up being it.
I remember watching July's very unique independent film "Me You and Everyone We Know". Much like that film, this collection is explicitly about loneliness. She writes about this singular emotion with a startling intensity and focus. All the characters are lonely. Everything they do is about alleviating that loneliness, with varying amounts of success. While I sometimes felt July was trying too hard to shock me (sexuality is used in ways that was sometimes necessary but other times felt gratuitous) most of the time I was impressed, and I was often very moved.
What I really noticed was the specificity of her imagery and her sensitivity to the way that we feel. I remember my writing teacher explaining many times that there is a difference between stabbing and puncturing, and there's a difference between genuine and sincere and that those differences were really important. Meaning that we should be precise in our language. And July's writing really speaks to that sensibility.
There definitely is a blankness/remoteness to these stories. That's where the "quirky" shows up. But that was part of my craving. I wanted to be woken up and surprised. These stories aren't "delightful" and they are not "wonderful". But they are powerful and memorable. And they somehow ring true. (less)
"East of Eden" has a pretty endless series of delights. There's the writing--lyrical and spare at the same time. The richness of the characters--even...more"East of Eden" has a pretty endless series of delights. There's the writing--lyrical and spare at the same time. The richness of the characters--even the background players that only get a handful of lines will manage to make an impression. The observations about human nature-- they ring so true you have to slow down and let them rattle around in your head for a little bit.
I absolutely loved this wonderful book. And I didn't want it to end. The last book I felt this way about was "Cannery Row", which was also by John Steinbeck. Which means I will be reading a lot more Steinbeck.
There is so much to admire about this ambitious, clever and moving novel.
First of all, it's really, really written in the voice someone who lived in...moreThere is so much to admire about this ambitious, clever and moving novel.
First of all, it's really, really written in the voice someone who lived in England in the 17th century. I am not saying this as any great expert of 17th English dialect.... But I was so completely immersed in that specific place and time by the syntax, metaphors, and structure of the language and the dialogue. I was never not impressed with the gracefulness (and authenticity) of the writing. Geraldine Brooks really puts other writers of historical novels to shame.
The second thing to really admire about "Year of Wonders" is the heroine, Anna Frith, who is the 18 year old "girl" that narrates this story of how a small village reacts when it is completely ravaged by the Plague. (I place girl in quotes because by the time we meet her she has already had two children and become a widow and so isn't really a girl at all).
Anna is in many ways, a proxy for the reader. What would horrify us, horrifies her, what we would see as superstition, she almost always does as well etc. She is always brave and kind and always the voice of reason. That sounds like a boring, anachronistic character, but she really isn't. This somewhat modern sensibility isn't dealt with in a way that's ridiculous or insulting. Anna isn't a feminist or an atheist. She doesn't figure out things about the Plague that she couldn't possibly know. She's not some kind of genius and her view of the world is very skillfully explained.
Seeing her come into her own--the empowerment of learning to read, her observations about human nature from watching the many tragedies unfold, her affinity for medicine and knowledge--all of that stuff was really, really great. As much as this book is often bleak (and sometimes graphic) Anna is a wonderful, enjoyable voice.
"Year of Wonders" isn't a straightforward story about What Happened To This Town. It's really a great deal more than that including an exploration of class, law and order/how mob justice starts, and the role of religion and superstition. Actually religion is one the main themes and a pivotal (and very moving) scene is when one of the main characters is revealed to have made a tremendous sacrifice for the sake of faith.
Finally, I enjoyed all the historical details of this historical novel. What was life like in a 17th century English village? I had no idea so I really appreciated Geraldine Brook's thoroughness. The book was never dry or scholarly in any way but she does really pack a lot of information in. That aspect was really fun to read.
The ending was maybe a teeny tiny bit unexpected and distracting. But I loved this book! I recommend it to all lovers of historical fiction and of strong women characters.
"There are no small decisions in movie-making". This quote definitely sums up the gist of Sidney Lumet's wonderfully enjoyable memoir/handbook. As som...more"There are no small decisions in movie-making". This quote definitely sums up the gist of Sidney Lumet's wonderfully enjoyable memoir/handbook. As someone who doesn't really know a lot about the work that goes into making a film, reading this book was pretty amazing. I had no idea that every single sound that isn't someone talking (footsteps, the swish of fabric, the clink of ice in a glass etc) is added individually after filming because their microphones can't capture it. Nor did I imagine the deliberate decisions made about the camera work in how it relates to the themes of the film--in one case a character that was feeling trapped was always shot with a very close lens until the moment that he began to feel free again. Many of these artistic/technical choices reminded me of literature and the tools that writers use. That was a really new and fun way for me to see filmmaking.
I would say this book is maybe not so much anymore a "how-to" guide for the budding director because much of it is, I am sure, very out of date. But Lumet's artistry and his depth with the tools of filmmaking, are really impressive as are all the behind the scenes stories of how he motivates his actors. Also he's an engaging and honest writer. You can't help but feel affection as you read about his successes and failures.
The really unfortunate thing.... I haven't watched any of these movies!! I've only seen "Twelve Angry Men" which I loved so much that that it made me want to read this book. I really didn't know anything about his other famous films. And that's too bad because he so often referred to them when explaining his decisions. I wish I had been able to better understand.
Of course now I am looking forward to watching them and will enjoy them more for having read this detailed account of their creation. And I'm sure that any movie fan, even one that hasn't watched Sidney Lumet's films, would really enjoy "Making Movies". (less)
I bought this book, just like I always read travelogues and watch foreign movies, because I love to daydream about traveling all over the world and se...moreI bought this book, just like I always read travelogues and watch foreign movies, because I love to daydream about traveling all over the world and seeing all sorts of wonderful places. Daydreaming about travel is almost as good as actually traveling. Well...not really, but I enjoy it so much.
Anyway, this book features 1000 places in it, and you get to read about these cool places and dream about going there. What could go wrong?? It's a pretty foolproof idea, surely.
And yet if it was possible to ruin travel (which it isn't) this horrid book would basically do it. It's stuffed full of fancy hotels, for starters. It seems like a solid THIRD of the "places" are just very expensive hotels. To include these hotels (and so many) in a collection like this one is such a useless and strange choice. Even if I could actually afford to stay at any of them, I have NO INTEREST whatsoever in reading about the spacious rooms or whatever. I really can't imagine that the audience for a book like this cares about something like that. As for the rest of the entries, well, it's a huge beautiful planet and bad writing can't change that. Still Patricia Schultz can make the even most magical sights sound dull. To call her uninspired would be too kind.
Still... I read every page. Every silly hotel. The one thing this book has going for it is quantity. And over the last six months that I've slogged through it, even without Patricia's help, I daydreamed about these cool places and looked forward to buying better books about many of them. While obviously I don't actually recommend this book... as far as quantity is concerned there isn't really anything like it (that I've seen). So it does serve THAT purpose if you're as travel hungry as me and want to cover as much ground as possible in one comprehensive book.
But just know that you're in for reading about a lot of fancy hotels. A lot of them. (less)
I've always been very hostile to science fiction so it's hard for me to believe that I read and so much enjoyed "Th...moreCertainly an extraordinary book....
I've always been very hostile to science fiction so it's hard for me to believe that I read and so much enjoyed "The Year of the Flood". I guess part of the reason I avoid books like this one is because I don't like "message" books about dystopian societies. I read literature for good writing and good characters, so I don't like when an author is intent on revealing some "truth"--I guess I find that heavy-handed and not interesting.
Okay, so this is a message book. And it certainly is quite heavy handed. Not much subtlety about this world in which many animal species have gone extinct (while strange genetic splices are common) and all the main characters belong to a religious sect that worships nature and evolves partly into eco-terrorism. Even before the actual end happens, the setting for this story is the end of the world. In the sense that people are living in a brutalized, fearful, dangerous world that bears little resemblance to ours.
And yet "The Year of The Flood" is full of such human characters, such lyrical writing, such unexpected charms and genuine thrills that I became completely engrossed, in a way that I didn't think was possible for this kind of novel.
As much as Atwood was determined to hammer in her message (and she sure was determined), it was never at the expense of telling a story. The plot revolves around The Gardeners and how they are able to negotiate an immoral and lawless world especially after the global pandemic that's referred to as The Waterless Flood. (I will be sparse with plot details because you need not and should not know any more) With such a dramatic setting, there are, of course, many scary moments and there are intensely sad moments. But there is also a lot of humor, a lot that's endearingly familiar. And ultimately, I guess I found this to be a...positive book? Maybe that's the wrong word, for such a bleak future. But I do think "The Year of the Flood" is ultimately hopeful.
It was a harrowing experience at times but I'm so glad I gave this book (and Margaret Atwood) a chance to show me that science fiction can really be wonderful literature. I definitely look forward to reading more from her! (less)
"The Girl in the Flammable Skirt" is Aimee Benders highly (highly) whimsical collection of short stories. In one of Aimee's stories a man evolves back...more"The Girl in the Flammable Skirt" is Aimee Benders highly (highly) whimsical collection of short stories. In one of Aimee's stories a man evolves backwards until he becomes a fish. In another a man wakes up to find his stomach is missing and instead there is huge hole in the middle of his torso. Meanwhile that man's wife becomes pregnant and gives birth to... well, I won't say because it's a spoiler. But let's just say what she gives birth to isn't a baby.
And so on and so forth. Every story has a series of bizarre twists. But what I want to emphasize is that I am not against these bizarre twists. You want your character to wake up with a hole in his stomach? FINE! But don't let that character go to work and then come home and eat dinner like usual, please. Don't wait to address the issue of how his digestion works until you visit the doctor after dinner. And why is he waiting so long to go to the doctor?? Why spend 12 stomach-less hours without getting some medical advice? I mean, it's silly but these are kinds of questions going through my mind. In other words, I was so willing to engage with Aimee on her turf. I really and truly was. But it just wasn't possible.
This whole book is like those kooky exercises I used to do in the writing workshop I took my freshman year of college. "Write a story where everything is blue/your main character is a germ/the world is made of Cheerios". But my writing teacher was always very stern about what would make the exercise useful--introducing the strange element, yes, but then having the story develop in an organic way, make sure the world is real somehow.
Aimee's goals were the opposite of this. As soon as you accepted one premise she wants to impress you with a new one. And I understood this impulse because when I was a freshman in college, I used to write stories JUST like that. What I figured out eventually was that writing isn't about finding a new and clever way to say something old. It was about finding a way to say something, anything, SUCCESSFULLY. Whether you found a new or an old way was besides the point. Good writing is not about shuffling things around to see what sounds cool. It just isn't.
Anyway, I wasn't going to review this book because, what could I even say? What was there to critique? But then it occurred to me....one of the stories was good. It's about a man who comes home from war without lips, and instead he has little plastic pieces. That was it, that was the twist. No other twists followed and the rest of the story developed with rich, human characters and recognizable feelings. Therefore when Aimee is able to reign herself in, she can write. For whatever reason, this realization allowed me to rate and review her book.
And it just wasn't good. The good ideas were drowned out by the bad ones.
Jonathan Safran Foer has written an Important Book. Not just a great book. Or one that was well-written, graceful, well-researched and convincing. It...moreJonathan Safran Foer has written an Important Book. Not just a great book. Or one that was well-written, graceful, well-researched and convincing. It is all those things. But "Eating Animals" goes far beyond and I can't imagine that anyone could read it without finding the information to be transformative.
"Eating Animals" is about eating animals. But it is really about factory farming. And everyone who eats animals should read this book, in order to make an informed choice.
Foer argues against factory farming from a variety of angles that include
--ethics and morality (the cruelty that the animals experience is such that it's very hard to read this book at times) --health (not the health considerations of eating meat, but the considerations of eating the unclean, diseased animals produced by the factory farming. Also, the health of communities adjacent to factory farms) --public policy (the TERRIFYING prospect of a pandemic being created in the perfect storm that is closed quarters and sick animals. Also, the very real consequences of the factory farming industry's overuse of antibiotics which causes these antibiotics to be useless for humans) --environment (factory farming contributes more greenhouse gas emissions than the entire transportation industry. Including aviation.) --global hunger (acres devoted to feeding animals that will feed people, could feed an infinitely higher number of people) --economics (the hidden cost to tax payers in order to have access to "cheap meat")
The tone of this book is rational and unsentimental. But it's so often about issues of culture, family, tradition, morality, love, conscience. And it was always personal. Foer discusses these huge issues through the lens of the best choices to make for his young son, the right lessons to learn from his Holocaust-surviving grandmother. The arguments are always personal to his life, just as the issues of factory farming as personal to all of us.
This book had a tremendous impact on me and my way of thinking. I am still processing all the information but feel a sense of urgency about grappling with the issues of factory farming--overwhelming though they may be. More than anything else, I feel strongly that everyone will want to know these things. Not that they should know (though they should) but that they would really want to. That they would be glad to know.
I would recommend this extraordinary and Important book to absolutely anyone, anywhere, that eats animals, cares about someone that eats animals, cares about the environment or about public health or global hunger or ethics and cruelty. Or cares about anything else! Because it seems that the issues around eating animals, in one way or another, affect everything else about our lives. This makes it an issue worthy of thinking and worrying about and understanding. This is the best possible book to help us do that.(less)
Despite a premise that is, obviously, quite depressing "The World Without Us" is one of the most fascinating and charming nonfiction books I have ever...moreDespite a premise that is, obviously, quite depressing "The World Without Us" is one of the most fascinating and charming nonfiction books I have ever read. And, even as it's chock-full of information, the writing is so lively and engaging that it really was hard to put down. Alan Weisman's curiosity and imagination, when combined with his scholarly research, is able to paint a pretty incredible picture of the post-human world. Often he takes the reader to parts of the world that are already going through this transition; a strip of land between North and South Korea, a stretch of abandoned Greek hotels, etc. These were some of the most fascinating chapters for me and I found myself going online to look at pictures of these places and read more about them.
My main fear when I picked up this book was that it would be some kind of silly science fiction mental exercise that wouldn't really be too interesting to someone that really hates science fiction (like me). But this wasn't the case. There's almost no end to the scope of Weisman's questions. What happens to nuclear power plants? to the sewer system? Bridges? Houses? Domestic animals? the Panama Canal? Wildlife? Will the oceans replenish? Etc, Etc. And even as the answers engage the imagination, they are satisfyingly fact-based and thoroughly researched. Weisman is so successful at creating this world and (depressing premise aside) I really enjoyed seeing it materialize.
I would venture to say that "The World Without Us" is actually really uplifting. The capacity of the planet to stamp out our influence is pretty cool. Awe-inspiring. We read books for lots of reasons but a huge one is entertainment, and for me, reading about the planet's comeback was genuinely entertaining.
I recommend this book for all the fascinating information but also because Weisman is really a gifted writer. "The World Without Us" is a wonderful read.(less)
Shortly after beginning this collection of essays I had already decided that David Sedaris was losing touch.
And it's true, I disliked the first handfu...moreShortly after beginning this collection of essays I had already decided that David Sedaris was losing touch.
And it's true, I disliked the first handful of essays. They were lackluster. One in particular, a satire about Sedaris living during the Stone Age, can only be described as strange and extremely stupid. Others just felt forced. And in these cases my reaction to the humorous climax was basically "Nope. I don't buy it."
And YET... soon enough I was humming along in this funny little world that David Sedaris lives in. He just sort of won me over and halfway through the book I was actually sad that it would soon have to end.
For me the highlight was the last chunk, a sort of mega-essay that details David's attempts to quit smoking by spending 3 months in an Asian country. This is fertile territory, to be sure. Having recently quit smoking myself (though I never smoked anywhere as much as him) I was delighted to recognize all the highs and lows, the indignities of being a smoker and of being a former smoker. And, of course, David's observations about being in a foreign culture were often incredibly funny--especially his misadventures in language class. But this essay was also quite moving, at times. In a way that isn't sappy and just sort of sneaks up on you.
So, I would say this collection isn't as consistent as, for example, "Me talk pretty one Day". But for any fans of Sedaris or humorous personal essays in general, this collection is pretty great and you are sure to find more to like than to dislike.(less)
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