I remember my dad reading The Hobbit to me when I was a child. I loved it! Then I read the trilogy for the first time in 7th grade. I revisit it every...moreI remember my dad reading The Hobbit to me when I was a child. I loved it! Then I read the trilogy for the first time in 7th grade. I revisit it every couple years or so. I ran into my first and only problem with it the other night: Both Star Wars-Return of the Jedi and The Fellowship of the Ring were on TV at the same time. I felt like my world was crashing, detaching at the seams when I had to choose between the two...I never want to experience that existential meltdown again, nor would wish it upon anyone.(less)
This is my favorite book right now. If you are unfortunate enough to a)work with me or b)been the unlucky soul to bring up/ask me about books then you...moreThis is my favorite book right now. If you are unfortunate enough to a)work with me or b)been the unlucky soul to bring up/ask me about books then you know I can't NOT mention this while closing my eyes, shaking my head, and murmuring 'it was so friggin badass'.
Read this book while listening to: -Ennio Morricone -Earth's 'The Bees Made Honey...' -Earth's 'Hex; or printing on the infernal method.(less)
I wanted to like this book and I'm not so sure I didn't.
Knowing that Lethem described his initial idea about this book as ostensibly a seinfeld episod...moreI wanted to like this book and I'm not so sure I didn't.
Knowing that Lethem described his initial idea about this book as ostensibly a seinfeld episode, four people sitting in an apartment riffing about nothing at all, provides a wee bit of context.
The subplot I wish Lethem delved further into was the relationship between the protagonist and his astronaut wife who is stranded in space. I found myself making a mental list of all the possible implications, symbolism, and metaphors this carries. The protagonists wife, looming literally over his head throughout the book. Her letters as transmissions reach Chase (the protagonist) she exists in some sort of nebulous purgatory, neither here nor there, but always in contact. He can't reach her, yet she is always there overhead, with him...
But what else you find are four people who smoke alot of pot and have those conversations you might think the uber-intelligentsia would have. The effect is strange. The reader almost feels stoned reading this: you're not sure if you're reading a relevatory narrative that explores all truths and one truth, the case for the flawed human psyche, critique of culture, blah blah blah, or if you really ARE stoned and when the munchies finally abate and you look back you realize you were really just reading pretentious nonsense.
One thing Lethem did convey well was (now I might get some flak for this because I've only visited once and never lived there) is the general sense of the claustrophobia and paranoia of living in Manhatten. The four rooms inside one room, living on top of one another, the whole other world of basement bars and clubs and hundreds and hundreds of miles of tunnels.
Not the easiest read and for the Lethem novice I would suggest Motherless Brooklyn or Fortress of Solitude. (less)
Here you will find some of the funniest backwoods caricatures only to be followed by the most haunting and disturbing of passages. For Blood Meridian...moreHere you will find some of the funniest backwoods caricatures only to be followed by the most haunting and disturbing of passages. For Blood Meridian fans you will find McCarthy honing and practicing with the most wretched of antagonists. The Judge. With the character in this book, he is still informed by an unprecedented evil, not unlike an apocalyptic vision. I gasped allowed.
Recommended Soundtrack: David Tibet/Current 93, Death in June or similar apocalytpic folk music. Wolves in the Throne Room's meditations on Nature songs Conifer Earth's latter penchant for twang (less)
This book was recommended to me by a friend (thanks abby!) who is friends with the author. She described it as 'the pre-9/11 novel, cap...more(some spoilers)
This book was recommended to me by a friend (thanks abby!) who is friends with the author. She described it as 'the pre-9/11 novel, capturing the angst and anxiety of Y2K global computer failings and the financial bubble burst'. And I don't disagree with her there, but the way I'd describe it... 'come for a y2k snapshot, stay for the human to human connection of two disparate people from two disparate backgrounds'. Yea, won't see that as a tagline...anywhere.
Wayne's had his share of praise for development of the protagonist Karim Issar, a talented Qatr-born computer programmer/financial stock predictor/employee of a giant global investor/other professional job titles that I don't fully grasp. Basically, he writes computer programs using complex algorithms to predict oil futures and stock market data.
Wayne has said he did not want to write a 9/11 novel and while I can appreciate that, there are some aspects of this novel that would have benefitted from further development. For example, Karim's uncomfortable assimilation from a life in Qatr to a New York stock trader's jet set lifestyle is illustrated with conversations with his father, still in Qatr, a traditionalist Muslim. They speak of bombings and U.S. interference of the region. I think if this was explored a little further, it would have better 'shown' a growing sense of distrust of the American people. These conversations and this aspect of the story seemed almost an afterthought, not wanting to delve too deeply into a controversial subject, not really knowing how to treat it. And I see where Wayne may have wanted to hold back there, but I found myself wanting more.
Karim made a really interesting protagonist, his plight and so forth. But while Wayne went to great lengths to hilight the 'Karim-esque', sometimes Karim's perfect speech and grammar and grasp on complex mathematics made the Karim-esque seemed robotic-esque. His diction especially. But again, there's a challenge there to give a character who studies perfect English to better assimilate finding himself in a sea of business jargon and slang.
The best aspect for me is the story of Rebecca, a New York typical 20 something experiencing ennui and self-doubt. Takes Zoloft, has a bad relationship with her father. I don't want to say 'first world problems' but very much different from Karim. Their romantic connection develops quite naturally and Wayne does well to bring them together in a sort of clumsy way you'd expect of two people with their respective backgrounds. This was my favorite part; how two people with nothing in common clumsily found their way into each others arms. (less)
Guess what? You are going to get old. You will idealize your youth. You will have regrets. And then you will die...
(Excuse my brief departure: Sure, this is a good book but I'm still a little puzzled it merited Publisher's Weekly's Best Fiction Book of the Year while my favorite Our Burden's Light is all ignored, shunned, and sent to the corner by anyone who's anyone that makes year end lists. I mean come on, throw it a bone, an honorable mention ribbon, a pat on the back with that 'you sure gave it your all kiddo' look at least!)
Halfway through and this was maybe just a solid 3 1/2 star book, but it picked up steam and ended strongly. I still don't know how I feel about the Powerpoint chapter you've no doubt heard about. The structure of the book is postmodern, even a bit meta in places, I'm not sure the Powerpoint (I'm hesitant to employ the dreaded 'gimmick' stamp here) was necessary or even made sense given its temporal context. This is a novel about aging, being ravaged by regret, and looking back on ones choices. the new york times review says 'with 13 different characters... Egan makes these disparate parts cohere into an artful whole.' In my opinion, umm...no she doesn't. The prose is artful, fluid, sharp yet lyrical. It packs a whollop, it is emotionally generous and it reels in the reader. The characters are wonderfully crafted, they are real and rich and nuanced. But to say the chapters are cohesive...i didn't find it that way. What i found were vignettes meditating on aging, looking back on one's youth, love lost and love found. But I'm not sure anything ever really 'cohered' together. Freedom by Franzen had a similar thing going on: chapters that jumped back and forth across time, from character to character, different perspectives and all that(albeit in a different way) now THAT was cohesive. The parts gelled to create a great cohesive novel. Egan created inter-connected short stories, vignettes of lives that are connected.
Halfway through and I'm struggling to place all the accolades 'Goon' has received. It's above average. Then I get to this passage:
... he had taken the passion he felt for Susan and folded it in half, so he no longer has a drowning, helpless feeling when he glimpesed her beside him in bed...Then he'd folded it in half again, so when he felt desire for Susan, it no longer brought with it an edgy terror of never being satisfied. Then in half again, so that feeling of desire entailed no immediate need to act. Then in half again, so he hardly felt it. His desire was so small in the end that Ted could slip it inside his desk or a pocket and forget about it, and this gave him a feeling of safety and accomplishment, of having dismantled a perilous apparatus that might have crushed them both
When I read that fucking passage I felt like there was a spotlight on me in a crowded room. That there was an announcer speaking too closely to the microphone in a booming baritone voice announcing to the crowd 'This passage is for you, Nick'. Who hasn't steeled themself against something like this? The thing that is love, that is desire, the most complete and human and awe-inspiring and revelatory and amazing and heart fluttering experience ...but also terrifying. Terrifying and soul crushing and harrowing, the potential to make one a hollow nothing, the potential to transform and maim and change ones essence, to change who you were, you are, and will be.. because if you dont, do what you feel is necessary, protect yourself from it. Sure You can give yourself over to it, surrender yourself, but then you want to protect yourself too. And to do that you have to 'fold away that desire'. You have to make it less than what the thing is. Make is smaller than the enormous gigantic thing that is bigger than you, it must be coralled, wrangled. You have to find a way to bring your boiled blood to a simmer and then just cool, room temperature. If not it will explode, detonate, taking out you and those around you, leaving nothing but a shell. After reading that I was done for. I surrendered myself completely, became wholly absorbed and emotionally involved with this book. And that's when the book turned for me. In the space of one paragraph.(less)
I gave up on Pynchon for the 'pynchon-esque'. I know, I'm such a dilettante. In other news, I'm liking this so far....
-In a slump, nothing's really gr...moreI gave up on Pynchon for the 'pynchon-esque'. I know, I'm such a dilettante. In other news, I'm liking this so far....
-In a slump, nothing's really grabbing me lately.(less)
A little set up: Sometimes I read record or book reviews where the reviewer treats descriptions like 'nostalgic' or 'sentimental' like they're four-let...moreA little set up: Sometimes I read record or book reviews where the reviewer treats descriptions like 'nostalgic' or 'sentimental' like they're four-letter words. I suppose I can understand that if you're trying to delve into huge universal themes and don't have time with petty personal issue and histories.... Also, I recently read a feature on the avclub.com about music one cannot listen to anymore. You know, maybe the music you listened to with an ex that broke you're heart, the favorite song of a dead friend/family member.
Keeping these two digressions in mind, I'll now get to Baumbach's 'You; or the Invention of Memory'. I'm not too callous to admit there is a heap of songs I cannot, or choose not to listen to anymore, because mostly because of the former reason above, but also, as I get older the latter as well. Let's just say that upon opening Baumbach's book, I unearthed those songs to milk this openly candid, 'nostalgic' and 'sentimental' book for all it's worth. Anyway, I get about halfway through, reading while listening to those forbidden songs and the book is sentimental and wistful and most definitely nostalgic. (The whole premise, as the title would suggest is nostalgia and the fallacy of memory). But, to be honest the songs aren't doing to me what they once had the power to do but, all in all the book isn't bad when I'm listening to my songs. Sure, I'm being a bit self-indulgent but who isn't from time to time.
But once I came back to the book without these songs as my guide, I just didn't really care anymore. Is that awful? For a multidude of reasons, the most obvious being: insted of enjoying the book for what it is, while listening to these songs, I tried to narcissistically project myself into the narrator's experience. Tried to amplify the pang these songs would create with a fiction counterpart.
That being said, and I know I took the long way to say this: you won't like this book if you dislike sentimental, nostalgic stories/books. But, if you're like most of us and sometimes like to get lost in something in order to find your way back to a time in your life AND had a soundtrack for a hard time you went through, this book might suit your fancy. Now I'm just wondering about not being able to self-indulgently, narcissistically lose myself in that aforementioned personal (morbid) soundtrack. God, I hope its not because I'm getting older and more mature. That would be a shame.
Recommended Soundtrack: (see above; different for everybody) (less)
There should be a blog ala 'what white people like' called 'Jonathan Franzen probably hates you'. If you are a cat lover, drive a hybrid (or a prius),...moreThere should be a blog ala 'what white people like' called 'Jonathan Franzen probably hates you'. If you are a cat lover, drive a hybrid (or a prius), shop at Whole Foods, watch Oprah, listen to NPR, are a college republican, or are involved in the democratic party he probably hates you. Ok, hate might be a strong word. He probably holds a smug disdain for you. I just picture him on a puke green upholstered chair, duct tape all over it, banging away on some old Corona typewriter, muttering about the poor plebs and their computers, and internets, apple phones, and facebooks. He's probably a grump, but probably happy and content in this state. It's familiar, and I'm sure we can all relate to a particular kind of comforting sadness, the kind that reminds you you are human and is a consoling rememberance of happier times.
That long winded caveat aside, Freedom is a fucking wonderful book. It's superbly crafted and supremely fluid. I found The Corrections plodding and a bit over written in some sections but Freedom doesn't suffer in the least from those blemishes. The only taxing part of reading Freedom is just how emotionally draining it can become. And this is one of the highest compliments I can give about a book. The characters are so rich and developed that I, the reader, became REALLY involved with them. I would curse Patty and pity Walter, Franzen induces a myriad of emotions in a small space. The ups and downs are hallmarks of brilliant evocative fiction and Freedom has this in spades. The fact that I am not married with children, yet connected that the ups and downs became devastating to me really speaks volumes about Franzens technique and skill. Like him or not, and i can almost assure you he doesn't like you, Franzen can fucking craf a novel. (less)
First things first, I really admire Joe Meno. The Boy Detective Fails nearly brought me to tears and though some of his other works may not as hit dee...moreFirst things first, I really admire Joe Meno. The Boy Detective Fails nearly brought me to tears and though some of his other works may not as hit deeply both on a cerebral and visceral level, I respect the hell out of him. He mines the sort of literary territory that often appeals to me (if not cyclically); family, ageing, first love. But I fear Office Girl came out about ten years too late for me. Some of it hit home the way I like good fiction too, characters and events I can relate to personally. However, said characters and events exist just barely out of reach, in a cloud, memories too ethereal to be the personal aide the book requires. One of the protagonists, the sexy-cute eccentric art school dropout seems to exist in another time I lived in, but she would have had me stuttering and sweating in college. I suppose all of this is more telling of the way I read these types of books, the context I bring, the baggage I need to make these sorts of reads worthwhile. It has nothing to do with Meno, it's my fault, see. I've crossed that dreaded threshold where all my 'firsts' in college that I used to love to relive through evocative fiction--first love, first heartbreak, being on my own, etc--are too far away, they cant be so easily recalled. And I need to recall these for this type of novel, it's almost mandatory.(less)
The way I see it the Border Trilogy is made up of two different types of narratives: it's bookended by a 'western romance' type tale. Pretty Horses fo...moreThe way I see it the Border Trilogy is made up of two different types of narratives: it's bookended by a 'western romance' type tale. Pretty Horses follows John Grady Cole as he leaves his ranch to wander the mexican campo looking for work. When he finds work, he also finds himself involved in a doomed trist with the ranchers daughter. This is the softer side of McCarthy.
The Crossing, (spoiler ahead) on the other hand, is filled with the lonesome, 'laconic man in the saddle' imagery. The sun setting to his back, bedding down and watering his horse where he decides at that moment. This is very much the protagonist as folk-hero (which was even a subplot in the Crossing), not altogether dissimilar to The Kid in Blood Meridian. Skin like leather, an immoveable figure from the landscape. It begins with Billy Parham leading a wild, yet collared wolf across the border and ends with Billy dragging, behind his horse, the bones of his dead brother.
Cities on the Plain is very much like ...Horses. John Grady returns, and guess what...he falls in love with a mexican prostitute. (If thats not doomed from the beginning...).
Anyway, my point is that I am more fond of the Crossing type narrative. Seems so much more powerful, although I can appreciate the romance aspects may resonate better with most readers. Not me, however.(less)
After an American Literary institution (Delillo's 'Libra') and a best selling populist (Douglas Preston's 'Monster...') both fail to catch my interest...moreAfter an American Literary institution (Delillo's 'Libra') and a best selling populist (Douglas Preston's 'Monster...') both fail to catch my interest, I'm hoping Ehrenrich's Odyssey inspired debut will do something for me...
Ehrenreich shows promise. I'll be on the lookout for his next novel. This debut's scope perhaps overshadowed the execution.(less)
(From now on I'm going to try and tie in the appropriate music I listen to while reading a selected book.)
Hope, social commentary, a post-apocalyptic...more(From now on I'm going to try and tie in the appropriate music I listen to while reading a selected book.)
Hope, social commentary, a post-apocalyptic wasteland, black humor and raunchy humor...You will find all these things within these pages.
Recommended soundtrack to your reading experience: Explosions in the Sky-All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone, Ween or a Monty Python Soundtrack.(less)
I'd love to wax academic and get all verbose with this review like so many enjoy doing on goodreads but frankly i dont have the inclination. I'm gonna...moreI'd love to wax academic and get all verbose with this review like so many enjoy doing on goodreads but frankly i dont have the inclination. I'm gonna opt for terse. This was boring. Too slow. I'm sure it was a slow build for the long burn but frankly i wouldnt know because it didnt hold my interest. Not poorly written, the language is stylized and fluid. The tempo is poor, barely any to speak of.(less)
I completely forgot about this book until I stumbled across it at work the other day. This is one of those seminal books about and for childhood, that...moreI completely forgot about this book until I stumbled across it at work the other day. This is one of those seminal books about and for childhood, that if you read it as a young boy, will stay with you long after finishing the last page.
Sure, this isn't classic literature, but if you're a young boy growing up in the South it might as well be. Reading this would definitely be an excercise in summoning what I can only describe as a sort of 'collective nostalgia'. I can only assume that reading again would be worth the trip back to the innocence and warmth of childhood.(less)
...Animals strength lies in its language. It rollicks. It careens from one side of the page to the next. You don't have time to breathe with all the c...more...Animals strength lies in its language. It rollicks. It careens from one side of the page to the next. You don't have time to breathe with all the conjunctions linking thoughts and actions and sentiments and worries and doubts and love and bile and spit. This book is hungry it wants to devour the reader and the frenetic pace of the language begs it to be devoured as well. Is it a novella, with parts stitched together, snippets of memories yield to scenes that are blurry along the edges? Or is it a novel, the parts making a whole, memories building on top of each other to tell the whole story? Who cares. It's a perfect example of how the feral can be beautiful.(less)
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