The Bookhouse Boys discussion
What Else Are You Reading?
I like to pretend that Breaking Bad doesn't exist when, like now, I can't watch it and I want to, want to, want to.
I just wrote up above that I don't have any desire to read books about baseball, but then I caught a review of Southern League by Larry Colton, and that might be an exception. He's a great writer of sports (as opposed to a "sportswriter," which is something else entirely.
I just wrote up above that I don't have any desire to read books about baseball, but then I caught a review of Southern League by Larry Colton, and that might be an exception. He's a great writer of sports (as opposed to a "sportswriter," which is something else entirely.
As mentioned at the end of the Crying of Lot 49 episode, I did pick up a copy of Elric of Melniboné at Powell's cheap. So, I'll try and get into it for the next episode.
Discovered a series of '70s occult pulp novels that sound amazingly entertaining Doctor Orient. Very pleased they're being published on the Kindle so I can get some poolside trashy reading w/o using eBay or paying way too much for cheese.

I've been having a pulp itch, so decided to finally read After Dark, My Sweet after having seen the movie umpteen times. Its narrative is very similar to the film version, but it's very weird having "Kid" Collie narrate it in the 1st person! A big part of the movie was not knowing how punchy and vulnerable (vs. aware of the machinations) the "The Kid" was. It gives the story more layers (and tragic elements) when you hear him understanding what's happening, but still unable to stop it from the first scene.
Fun coincidence today. Reading From Here to Eternity and one of the main characters, Milton Warden, points a loaded gun at an empty closet and says "I'm Wolf Larsen." The intertextual coincidence is impressive. James Jones seems obviously influenced by The Sea Wolf for this novel either way in that there are lengthy passages debating various psychological theories. It's all very dialectic. Enjoying it immensely, though, especially for the raw brashness of several of its passages.
Been reading The King in Yellow and Other Horror Stories the last couple days. Very weird and more modern than I would have expected. Cool stuff, so far (2 stories in).

I've also been going through a bunch of older fiction, from the ghost stories of Kipling (I can't recommend Mark of the Beast warmly enough) to the complete Sherlock Holmes, which has been a nice and lighthearted change of pace.
Jeppe wrote: "What else am I reading? Box after box of late 18th century and early 19th century documents in the National Archives. I swear I'm going to start talking and writing like an early Victorian colonial..."
I was just thinking about you today, Jeppe. I was wondering what you was keeping you so busy...(I also dove into the Brony discussion on a certain message board and thought your reply was the most succinct, concise and cuttingly observant of the bunch...although I do give props to our Jason for speaking out, too).
I was just thinking about you today, Jeppe. I was wondering what you was keeping you so busy...(I also dove into the Brony discussion on a certain message board and thought your reply was the most succinct, concise and cuttingly observant of the bunch...although I do give props to our Jason for speaking out, too).
Reading Sartoris. Loving it. This is where Faulkner becomes Faulkner.
"He closed the door behind him and Bayard removed his coat and shoes and his tie and snapped the light off and lay on the bed. Moonlight seeped into the room impalpably, refracted and sourceless; the night was without any sound. Beyond the window a cornice rose in a succession of shallow steps against the opaline and dimensionless sky. His head was clear and cold; the whisky he had drunk was completely dead. Or rather, it was as though his head were one Bayard who lay on a strange bed and whose alcohol-dulled nerves radiated like threads of ice through that body which he must drag forever about a bleak and barren world with him. 'Hell,' he said, lying on his back, staring out the window where nothing was to be seen, waiting for sleep, not knowing if it would come or not, not caring a particular damn either way. Nothing to be seen, and the long, long span of a man's natural life. Three score and ten years to drag a stubborn body about the world and cozen its insistent demands. Three score and ten, the Bible said. Seventy years. And he was only twenty-six. Not much more than a third through it. Hell."
"He closed the door behind him and Bayard removed his coat and shoes and his tie and snapped the light off and lay on the bed. Moonlight seeped into the room impalpably, refracted and sourceless; the night was without any sound. Beyond the window a cornice rose in a succession of shallow steps against the opaline and dimensionless sky. His head was clear and cold; the whisky he had drunk was completely dead. Or rather, it was as though his head were one Bayard who lay on a strange bed and whose alcohol-dulled nerves radiated like threads of ice through that body which he must drag forever about a bleak and barren world with him. 'Hell,' he said, lying on his back, staring out the window where nothing was to be seen, waiting for sleep, not knowing if it would come or not, not caring a particular damn either way. Nothing to be seen, and the long, long span of a man's natural life. Three score and ten years to drag a stubborn body about the world and cozen its insistent demands. Three score and ten, the Bible said. Seventy years. And he was only twenty-six. Not much more than a third through it. Hell."
We're reading Flags in the Dust. I'm reading Sartoris (the heavily edited version of Flags in the Dust) in preparation.
There's a new Russell Banks book of short stories coming out this month for anyone who's interested. It's called A Permanent Member of the Family, and it's his first short story collection since 2000.
Now the only question is...do I buy it for myself now, or do we schedule it for a podcast discussion?
Now the only question is...do I buy it for myself now, or do we schedule it for a podcast discussion?

"What is the whales motivation? You dont know."
"No wonder Melville flopped as a writter."
"I am quite the fan of stories which involve man eating sea creatures, such as Jaws. Moby Dick is nothing compared to such classics, I fear."
From One-star Amazon reviews of Moby Dick.

I will be getting this. :D
Jim wrote: "I wish you were making that up."
Yeah, this plus Dave Jordan's (@MyGalactus) tweets of one-star reviews of Citizen Kane have me feeling very little faith in my fellow primates.
Yeah, this plus Dave Jordan's (@MyGalactus) tweets of one-star reviews of Citizen Kane have me feeling very little faith in my fellow primates.
My favorites:
"I have seen better writing in a Hallmark card! Boring! Give me a good ole copy of Elvis and Me! A true story that really tugs at your heart strings! I sleep with that one under my pillow! Keep Moby Dick away from my bed!"
"I love literatur just as much as the next guy but we must face it 100 years or so ago American literature was reall weak and lagging from the rest of the world, perhaps now they’re starting to catch up with writers like Ann Rice and them"
The ones who reference tedium, unnecessary bits of whale trivia, etc. I have some kinship with.
"I have seen better writing in a Hallmark card! Boring! Give me a good ole copy of Elvis and Me! A true story that really tugs at your heart strings! I sleep with that one under my pillow! Keep Moby Dick away from my bed!"
"I love literatur just as much as the next guy but we must face it 100 years or so ago American literature was reall weak and lagging from the rest of the world, perhaps now they’re starting to catch up with writers like Ann Rice and them"
The ones who reference tedium, unnecessary bits of whale trivia, etc. I have some kinship with.
Matt wrote: "I was under the impression that Anne Rice *was* American. O_O"
He got that part right. Ann Rice is one of those American writers that's catching us up with the world. You have to give yourself to the tortured sentence structure.
He got that part right. Ann Rice is one of those American writers that's catching us up with the world. You have to give yourself to the tortured sentence structure.
After a colossally shitty day yesterday, came home to find my wife had bought me Nilsson: The Life of a Singer-Songwriter. Can't wait to dive in.

Thanks for the kind words, Sam.
I haven't exactly read Shogun, or any James Clavell book, but I feel like I kinda know it nonetheless because, believe it or not, I played it. Shogun was one of the last games Infocom made, back in 1989, and this obviously very abridged and altered version of the book was fascinating in its own right.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Cl...
I haven't exactly read Shogun, or any James Clavell book, but I feel like I kinda know it nonetheless because, believe it or not, I played it. Shogun was one of the last games Infocom made, back in 1989, and this obviously very abridged and altered version of the book was fascinating in its own right.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Cl...
I haven't, Sam, but I have always wanted to. My mom had those on a bookshelf and King Rat always drew my eye.
Thanks for the share and the feedback, Mas.
Thanks for the share and the feedback, Mas.

Thanks for the share and the feedback, Mas."
You're welcome, Ttam Llewoh!
Also, Dune is one of my favorite books. Probably read it the most of any other. Really been wanting to re-read some of the sequels. I miss that world.
The next time you're about to say that fantasy and science fiction is juvenile nonsense, picture your old, dog-eared copy of Dune, and bow your head.
Jason wrote: "The next time you're about to say that fantasy and science fiction is juvenile nonsense, picture your old, dog-eared copy of Dune, and bow your head."
I stand by my earlier remarks.
I stand by my earlier remarks.

Sam wrote: "I remember seeing those books at your mom's house. I don't know why, but I remember them. Dune came into my life when I had just turned 20 and was thinking of dropping out of school and becoming ..."
If Herbert's Dune were a YouTube clip, my posted comment would read "David Lynch brought me here." Still love the movie.
If Herbert's Dune were a YouTube clip, my posted comment would read "David Lynch brought me here." Still love the movie.
Finally started The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All. Read the 1st two stories and am extremely pleased with the writing and storytelling. Thrilled to have a contemporary horror writer that I like.

I recently read about Charles Willeford via this blog: http://boingboing.net/2013/10/08/1661....
After searching, I realized he's the author of Miami Blues, which I liked. I'm going to get Pick-Up free for my Kindle. I will probably talk about it on the show Thursday. So there.
After searching, I realized he's the author of Miami Blues, which I liked. I'm going to get Pick-Up free for my Kindle. I will probably talk about it on the show Thursday. So there.

Read the prologue to the Star Wars book Shadows of the Empire on the train this morning. Wasn't expecting much and was more than pleasantly surprised by it. I'm in.
I haven't had much to report lately because I haven't been reading much except for some RPG supplements, mostly Call of Cthulhu stuff ("Tatters of the King," which revolves around Hastur and Carcosa; there are no true detectives, unless the PCs fancy themselves such) and Legend of the Five Rings (which is a kind of fantasy mock historical Japanese alternative history that spun out of a particularly long lived and successful collectible card game.)
Currently reading
Uncle's Dream, a nice little social satire in which a mother convinces her beautiful daughter to marry a senile old prince for his money and social status by Dostoyevsky;
Joe, an intense story about an ex-con who befriends an abused teenage boy by Larry Brown (my favorite Brown to date by far, wish we'd read this instead of Father and Son);
House of Leaves, the (so far compelling, creepy, and brilliant) neo-classic formalist horror story by Mark Z. Danielewski;
Swann's Way, the first part of the captivating In Search of Lost Time series exploring memory, particularly sensory memory, by Marcel Proust; and
Clock without Hands by Carson McCullers, a semi-satire/Southern Gothic novel that looks at the intertwining, uneasy relationships between a racist old politician, his gay grandson, a dying man, and an angry African American youth.
Not a bad apple in the bunch.
Uncle's Dream, a nice little social satire in which a mother convinces her beautiful daughter to marry a senile old prince for his money and social status by Dostoyevsky;
Joe, an intense story about an ex-con who befriends an abused teenage boy by Larry Brown (my favorite Brown to date by far, wish we'd read this instead of Father and Son);
House of Leaves, the (so far compelling, creepy, and brilliant) neo-classic formalist horror story by Mark Z. Danielewski;
Swann's Way, the first part of the captivating In Search of Lost Time series exploring memory, particularly sensory memory, by Marcel Proust; and
Clock without Hands by Carson McCullers, a semi-satire/Southern Gothic novel that looks at the intertwining, uneasy relationships between a racist old politician, his gay grandson, a dying man, and an angry African American youth.
Not a bad apple in the bunch.
How far into House of Leaves are you, Dave? I *heard* it was creepy and compelling, as well as structurally interesting, but when I actually tried to read it, only the second part seemed to apply for me.
I'm about a hundred pages in, though it's difficult to measure exactly because of all the extra reading I've done with the back matter (maybe another hundred pages). I might be digging it so much because, conceptually, it may as well be built for me: academic writing, unreliable narrator(s), symbology, mystery, and a very original horror concept, among other things.
Started reading Richard Price's Clockers last night. I'm still fresh into it, but so far I have the same feeling of reverse order deja vu I did when I discovered The Sandbaggers after reading Queen & Country, except this time in reference to The Wire. Clockers is a more-than-obvious inspiration for the show. Which is quite exciting for me, since I'm a big fan of both Price and The Wire.
I didn't do too badly on my first day: 80 pages. I have a question too.
This is a Darl section, but these ideas are expressed by other characters too, especially Vardaman (the snake *is* and mom *is not*, then the snake is not-blood and not-snake, and you get the gist...) I would like to get people's take on this paragraph, which goes into it in some detail.
"In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, because he does not know that he does not know whether he is or not. He cannot empty himself for sleep because he is not what he is and he is what he is not. Beyond the unlamped wall I can hear the rain shaping the wagon that is ours, the load that is no longer theirs that felled and sawed it nor yet theirs that bought it and which is not ours either, lie on our wagon though it does, since only the wind and the rain shape it only to Jewel and me, that are not asleep. And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are was, it is not. Yet the wagon is, because when the wagon is was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is."
This is a Darl section, but these ideas are expressed by other characters too, especially Vardaman (the snake *is* and mom *is not*, then the snake is not-blood and not-snake, and you get the gist...) I would like to get people's take on this paragraph, which goes into it in some detail.
"In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, because he does not know that he does not know whether he is or not. He cannot empty himself for sleep because he is not what he is and he is what he is not. Beyond the unlamped wall I can hear the rain shaping the wagon that is ours, the load that is no longer theirs that felled and sawed it nor yet theirs that bought it and which is not ours either, lie on our wagon though it does, since only the wind and the rain shape it only to Jewel and me, that are not asleep. And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are was, it is not. Yet the wagon is, because when the wagon is was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is."
Books mentioned in this topic
All My Friends Are Going to Be Strangers (other topics)The Terror (other topics)
Naked Lunch: The Restored Text (other topics)
Whip Hand (other topics)
Bleeding Skull!: A 1980s Trash-Horror Odyssey (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
Jim Thompson (other topics)Mike Carey (other topics)
Charles Willeford (other topics)
Italo Calvino (other topics)
David Grann (other topics)
(So, proud that my mom can now get that joke!)
Seriously, though, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I like it!