bookshelves: currently-reading
Michael Chabon has got to be my most disappointing author. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay was, in fact, amazing, and I immediately wanted more. I wanted to devour him the way I devoured George Elliot and Thomas Hardy and John Irving and, more recently, Haruki Murakami. I wanted to read everything and love it all. And nothing else has ever been good. Most of it has been terrible. This collection of his essays, culled from Esquire and wherever else he's published, comes closer to giving me what I want from him than anything else, but I'm still incredibly disappointed.
He is on the verge of perfection all the time. He introduces his subject (in the case of these essays always something about being a man- a father, a husband, a lover, an ex-son-in-law), and starts talking about it like he's really going to talk about it, and just when he's really getting to the good stuff, the heart of the matter, the pain or frustration or grace or beauty, he loses it. He chickens out and abruptly finishes. It's like he's afraid of being overly sentimental, so he glibly makes light of the whole story and says "and that's just how it is." Just at the point where I'd say the introduction is over and it's time for the body, he says the body is over and it's time for the conclusion.
I used to think his problem was just the wit and style and other such annoyingness, that his pretension was what got in the way of his having any substance. It's more clear in these personal essays that those irritating habits of his are not merely for the sake of "dazzling" (which I'm sure is a word he's been praised with in numerous reviews), but to distance himself from the reader when he's afraid of getting too vulnerable.
I'm about two-thirds of the way through, but I doubt anything will change by the end. So far this has been the formula. Before this book I was beginning to think he just had one great novel in him and would be resting on those laurels for the rest of his life, but now I do think he's got more in him, and I even have faith he'll find a way to express it eventually. I'm not holding my breath- it's the sort of thing that often doesn't come until old age. But maybe I can hurry the process along by assaulting him at A Cuppa' Tea (he is my neighbor and I do know where he hangs out)and pointing out the folly of his ways?
He makes me miss David Foster Wallace.
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Who said if there's a gun it must be shot? And who knew that would be such a hard thing to google. Anyway, I kept expecting it until the last page, and it never happened.
But that's beside the point. Sometimes lesser known works are even better than the better known ones, they just don't make it because they're unmarketable for one reason or another. But in this case, The Cherry Orchard just isn't nearly as good as Vanya or the Seagull, and it's not even as good as most of the stories. ]]>
by Michael Chabon
Which two stories? I loved Kavalier and Clay and have hated everything else I've tried. ]]>
by Ayn Rand
Funny timing... last night in the bathroom at Cuppa' Tea I read this on the wall:
handwriting 1: Who is John Galt?
handwriting 2: See Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
handwriting 3: Don't be fooled by Rand's well-worded garbage. ]]>
More sentimental than the The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. It's possible that if I'd read this one first it'd get five stars and the Wind-Up Bird would've gotten four; I don't know. ]]>
Rebekah
added a quote:
"That's why I like listening to Schubert while I'm driving. Like I said, it's because all his performances are imperfect. A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of - that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally I find that encouraging." — Haruki Murakami
"That's why I like listening to Schubert while I'm driving. Like I said, it's because all his performances are imperfect. A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of - that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally I find that encouraging." — Haruki Murakami
bookshelves: to-read
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Rebekah
added a quote:
"I don't believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is so vertical. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other person. I have a lot to learn from other people." — Eduardo Galeano
"I don't believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is so vertical. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other person. I have a lot to learn from other people." — Eduardo Galeano
What a complete disappointment. I was so looking forward to reading weird random bicycle musings by David Byrne, but alas, his brain these days is less interesting than my own. I guess he's good at putting his thoughts into the ambiguous and metaphorical terms well-suited to song, but when he tries to spell them out in writing and "back them up with supporting evidence," well, he should leave it to those who understand the supporting evidence well enough to say something meaningful and interesting. He talks a lot about city planning and sprawl, really interesting subjects, but comes off like a college freshman home for the holidays spouting his new-found wisdom without totally understanding how all these little facts he picked up actually fit together. He still seems like a nice guy, just maybe not as omniamazing as I once thought.
After going into Pendragon every day for a week asking "is the David Byrne book in yet?," I couldn't see how I was going to bring myself to return it. So I went to the Shattuck location. The girl with pink hair asked why I was returning it and I said "it's really boring!" She agreed, she said every time he comes out with a new album or art book or whatever, she thinks "yeah, David Byrne, that guy's cool!" and she always ends up disappointed. We agreed to just listen to the Talking Heads from now on and be happy with that. ]]>
by Martha Stewart
Nope, never mind, you marked it in September. Anyway, I hope one day to have the time for all those beautiful projects! ]]>