Tag: Books

Winter Break Reading

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One of my favorite things about winter breaks is the opportunity it gives me to try and reduce the number of titles in my Book of Books™.

Big Novels

One of the greatest pleasures of the break was re-reading Alexander Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo. This is one of the books that I feel like I’ve had a long relationship with, from a sanitized Children’s Classics edition to a revelatory unabridged modern translation. For the past couple of months, the book has been my go-to time filler in a Kindle edition on my phone. One of the great pleasures of the book is its labyrinthine structure and cast of characters. It’s like if every time Dumas introduced a new set of characters or subplot tangential to the main storyline, his editor asked him to cut it and he responded by adding another 150 pages of material. There’s every type of story, and I had completely forgotten the humor of the book that goes along with it’s Byronic heaviness. One chapter, “How To Rid A Gardener of His Dormice” reads like a farcical short story.

Another behemoth of a novel that I powered through, albeit in an audio version, was the latest from David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet. Mitchell’s previous book, Cloud Atlas, literally rocked my shit, and I’ve been devouring his writing since I discovered him. Some of the things that I fell in love with in his work is the way that he’s able to connect big, heavy things with emotionally specific characters in artfully plotted stories, as well as his careful use of different modes of writing that often play on genre tropes, giving him a chameleon-like style. I didn’t see as much of that side of his writing in this book; it’s a piece of historical fiction that can be pretty easily categorized, much like his earlier (excellent) bildungsroman Black Swan Green. Which is no reason to dismiss the book. Mitchell chose an interesting location and time, the island trading post of Dejima in the Nagasaki bay at the turn of the 19th century. Like Dumas, Mitchell adorns his story–riveting in itself–with digressions that serve to immerse us in the setting and make us connect with even characters that affect only minor developments in the main plot. And some Mitchell trademarks remain: multiple narrators and stories-within-stories, his subtle shades of magic realism, and even a cameo from a secondary character in Cloud Atlas. The only thing that hampered my enjoyment of the novel was my anticipation of the wonderful “Mitchell effect:” those wonderful moments in his work (particularly in Cloud Atlas and Ghostwritten) where you suddenly realize the way that the story you are reading connects with larger themes established subtly throughout the larger work. There are certainly big themes in this book–particularly themes of individual autonomy, state sovereignty, and globalization–but no individual moment to match those in the other books. Still, it’s a spellbinding, wonderfully crafted, and deeply entertaining book.

Science Fictions

A book that made it on my list, on a recommendation from a source I can’t remember, was Alastair Reynold’s House of Suns. This kind of book is pure pleasure for me. It hits so many of my sci-fi buttons at once: epic world building, diverse multi-focused civilizations, political intrigue, morality tales, deep time. This is a book that it’s impossible for me to critique honestly. The quality of the writing doesn’t particularly distinguish itself, and the plot could maybe have used some punching up, but I really didn’t care. I got everything I came for, and I left satisfied.

A little more problematic was John Varley’s Rolling Thunder. I picked up this book on a whim, as one of Varley’s other novels, The Golden Globe, is one of my all time favorites. There were some superficial similarities–Varley’s love for the mixture of futuristic tropes with 1950’s and 60’s American pop culture, light social satire–but I thought the execution was just not on the same level. More bothersome for me after reading another of Varley’s books was the recognition of certain troubling elements of his writing that appear to be habits, particularly his writing of (and about) women. His female protagonist, Podkayne, is certainly endearing, but some of the things said in her voice sound like a rehash of “women are from mars”/When Harry Met Sally-esque nonsense that comes off as very unconvincing from that character.

Odds & Ends

Will Grayson, Will Grayson is a perfectly adequate YA novel with gay male content. I’ve been trying to get a handle on what to say about this book, and I really don’t have anything. The writing’s fine, not great, as is the story and the characters (with the exception of Tiny Cooper “the worlds largest gay person or the worlds gayest large person,” an unforgettable flamboyant gay teen equal parts sage mentor and hysterical drama queen). A couple of interesting thoughts about the book: The structure of this novel is alternating chapters narrated by each of the two Will Graysons, emphasized by different type/capitalization (Note to publisher: all small caps are annoying to read, e.e. cummings be damned!) and presumably written by the two authors. I’ve seen this format used a lot in the past few years, almost enough to create its own genre, like epistolary novels. It makes me wonder what (imagined) collaborations between big names might be like; certainly Levithan is a well known name in both general (Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist) and gay (Boy Meets Boy) YA circles. The other realization that I had after finishing this book was the realization of what the familiar, stream-of-consciousness tone mixed with lame observational humor that pervades first-person YA literature reminds me of: bad stand up comedy. I certainly remember being entertained  by the same kind of asides that annoy me now when I was a member of the target audience of these books, so it’s hard for me to come down too hard on it. Still, even if young teens do go for that kind of voice, surely they get tired of reading it ALL THE TIME?

I need to take a moment to point out how ridiculously well my sister knows me, and how great she is at picking presents for me. This Christmas, she got me Dave Mazzucchelli’s wonderful graphic novel Asterios Polyp. Graphic novel? Hell yeah. Drawing style that melds cariacture with concepts from another field–architecture and geometry–to tell a story? Even better. Supremely talented but imperceptive jerk that gives Dr. Gregory House and Jeff Daniels in The Squid and the Whale a run for their money? You’re killing me, this is the perfect book. Except when it isn’t; scenes in the “present” of the novel are incredibly uninteresting and bland compared to the magic of the flashbacks to Asterios Polyp’s marriage, and a structural device where he imagines and speaks to his miscarried twin brother left me rolling my eyes. Still, it’s an interesting, surprisingly touching book that I’d strongly recommend.

Levitt and Dubner’s SuperFreakonomics had about the same effect on me as their first book, Freakonomics (props to them for extending the pun, although I may eat my words if they keep cranking out more of these things), which is to say, little. It’s compellingly written, and full of interesting, seemingly contrarian opinions. The slickness of the writing makes me trust it a little less, but the subjects of each chapter are a little more focused than those included in the first book, which often read more like an exercise in data manipulation than a good-faith attempt to describe real-world phenomena.

David Mitchell – Black Swan Green

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  • Mitchell, David. Black Swan Green, Random House, April 2006, 304p.
  • One sentence summary: Jason Taylor is 13.
  • This is for: People who love really getting to know a character intimately
  • This is not for: People who prioritize the destination over the journey.

Black Swan Green is an amazing piece of writing. 13 is an age where you have enough of a kernel of maturity to try and figure out the world around you, yet there is still so much that you don’t know. Much of the plot of BSG is driven by this conflict, as Jason Taylor makes false assumptions about the people around him, or is too afraid of ridicule to ask another person what he should do. This makes it an incredibly delicate piece of writing too. Everything takes place from Jason’s perspective, and Mitchell does nothing to wink at his adult readers. Jason’s world is almost a magical world, full of unpredictable adults, new emotions, savage bullies, and distracted parents. He is a wonderful character.

I first read Cloud Atlas after reading about it, and Mitchell, in the New York Times Magazine. I was a little underwhelmed by Ghostwritten, but that was mostly because it covers thematic ground that is very close to Cloud Atlas. BSG is very different from those two, and is perhaps my favorite of his works to date.

Christos Tsiolkas – The Slap

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  • Christos Tsiolkas, The Slap, Penguin Books, April 2010, 482p.
  • Brief Summary: A novel told from multiple perspectives, The Slap examines in intimate detail the aftermath and fracture of a social circle after a man slaps a child that is not his own at a family gathering.
  • This is for: Fans of domestic novels. Those interested in themes of societal change, inter-generational conflict, and immigrant experiences.
  • This is not for: ideologues. Those who need big plot points: there are revelations and events that happen throughout the novel, but they take a backseat to the experience and voice of the featured character.

I was intrigued, as perhaps you are now, by the tagline on the front cover of Christos Tsiolkas’ The Slap: “At a suburban barbeque, a man slaps a child that is not his own…” Those words immediately suggest conflict; we can imagine how that scenario might play out among people that we know. Friendships broken, inter-familial feuds, overstepped boundaries and violations of trust. All these things can be found in The Slap, however the novel contains much more.

The novel is structured like eight independent novellas, focusing on different characters involved or present at the titular incident. Each has their own perspective on the incident, but also their own secrets, their own experiences, their own relationships. Because all of these characters are fully realized and have their own degree of engagement with the conflict–in fact, in at least two of the sections, the slap plays a very minor role in their story–the slap acts as a common focal point showing the differences in the lenses that the characters use to look at the world. They range in age and perspective from  a 15-year old trying to navigate the rough waters of cruel schoolmates and his own gayness to a 70 year old Greek immigrant coming to terms with his own age and the fact that the world has changed very much since the time he was raising children.

Tsiolkas gives the reader the opportunity to really get in the character’s heads, without judging them or editorializing. It’s a great read.

Extremely Quick Book Reviews

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The Children’s Book A.S. Byatt

Set in the years before World War I, this book chronicles the lives of a group of children related to Olive Wellwood, a children’s novelist. By turn family drama, historical fiction, and disturbing fantasy, this meaty book rewards perseverance and has one of the most emotional (and shocking) endings I’ve ever read.

Pros: The plot is extremely well crafted; only at the end did I understand some of the subtext of the beginning chapters. Again, one of the best endings I have ever read. Although it is not consistent, some of the characters are deeply and realistically developed. It never feels underwritten, everything gets enough space.

Cons: It’s a hefty 688 pages (2.2 pounds, according to Amazon) which isn’t bad in itself, but I feel like some sections could be tighter. The historical fiction is a little weak, there are a couple sections which read as a long list of names, places and events. Perhaps I would connect with it more if I were English.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian Sherman Alexie

This YA novel takes place during part of a school year as Arnold (Junior) Spirit transitions from his Washington reservation school to the white school in the nearby town. He has to deal with family, community, personal relationships, athletics, and good old-fashioned nerdidom.

Pros: Junior has a strong and memorable voice. The book reads quickly. Alexie does a good job of portraying the difficulties of code-switching between two different societies. Extremely funny.

Cons: Slightly underwritten. I wish that it was a little longer, or that Alexie had dug in a little further.

A Lost Lady Willa Cather

Somewhere in between Henry James’ Daisy Miller and The Sun Also Rises, this is a novella set in frontier Colorado at the turn of the century. Spanning several decades, it is a long examination of the relationship between a young frontier boy and his infatuation with the titular lady, the most elegant and glamorous resident of the small town. Once her husband dies, however, a different side of the woman emerges, one much different from the idealized lady that the boy –now a man– imagines…

Pros: Good quality prose. Cather presents two strong and opposed sides of the lady and pulls them off with great style. Very antiquated and un-PC presentations of Indians and black people are given, as far as I can tell, without a hint of irony or critique, but Cather does a good job of showing the beauty and simplicity of the frontier West before it was ‘ruined’ by development and increasing population. Answers the question of what Daisy Miller might have become had she lived, married an Army veteran and moved to the sticks.

Cons: Although the lady is well written, our protagonist and narrator is both kind of bland and also removed from the action for the second half of the novel. There is a case to be made for the silent protagonist, however it is not made here.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time Mark Haddon

Christopher Boone is a 15 year old English autistic boy. He discovers a heinous crime, tries to solve it, and finds out that the roots of the crime extend further into his life than he bargained for.

Pros: Haddon uses interesting and unconventional prose to great effect, like Jonathan Safran Foer (as an example of another good writer. See also Dave Eggers, for bad). Christopher is a narrator unlike any other, and his inability to use metaphor or lie means that the plot is tight and also makes poignant moments feel more real when they could feel trite.

Cons: I wish it was longer, but only because it was so good. It’s probably best exactly like it is.

The Blind Side Michael Lewis

As I wrote earlier, I was somewhat bothered by the excerpt of this book in the New York Times Magazine. I thought I owed it to Michael Lewis to read the book. I was happily surprised to find that most of the concerns I had about the article are not found in the book. In fact, the portrayal of the Tuohys are much more nuanced than in the article, and the description of Oher’s time at his high school is far less of a Cinderella story. On the other hand, this does make the changes made for the movie that much more disgusting. Also missing from the article/movie are the great sections on the history of the left tackle position and football strategy which tie Oher’s story into the history of the game.

Pros: Amazing story dealt with fairly; journalistic style makes it a gripping read.

Cons: By the end of the book I was sick of the Tuohys, Ole Miss, people from Memphis, football people and Southerners. The edition I bought had a picture of Sandra Bullock on the cover. I still could have used more of this story from Michael’s perspective.

Book: His Majesty’s Dragon

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I just got done with Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon. I picked it up on Alyssa Rosenberg’s half-recommendation. It seemed like it would hit all of my buttons. I’m an unabashed lover of kitschy dragon fiction, and historical fiction makes me feel intelligent and stokes my ego (when it’s done well, because I understand the references. When it’s done poorly, because I feel superior to the author). A dragon-filled book of military historical fiction? I’m on board!

HMD is set in England during the Napoleonic Wars. We meet Will Laurence, captain in the Royal Navy, as he captures a French frigate with a valuable cargo: a dragon egg. In this alternate history, dragons function as the aerial arm of the military, complete with ground crews and different breeds suited to strafing, bombing and dog (dragon?) -fighting. Will harnesses (imprints) this mysterious dragon, which he names Temraire. This book (the first in a series) deals with the personal fallout of that action, and Will and Temraire’s training regimen in the Dragon Air Corps.

The book is slight, with lean plotting. I found it pretty entertaining and extremely easy to read. I also appreciated that Novik flirted with some of the conventions of the genre, while sidestepping most of them. The mere fact that our protagonist is in his late 20’s means that there is a whole host of adolescent-centric character arcs that we don’t have to read again.

The flip side of that ease and directness of plot is that it frequently feels like it’s underwritten. I don’t believe that longer is always better (although I am slogging through the Baroque Trilogy, so I must be some kind of masochist), but there are several sections that, had they been fleshed out a little more, would have served a more cohesive, satisfying, and substantial whole.

I also found the speculative/alternate history aspect of the book fairly superficial. The characters speak in an unobtrusive old timey formal style (as opposed to, say, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell, a novel in which everyone speaks like Joseph in Wuthering Heights), and Novik name-checks a handful of historical figures, but otherwise the characters and plot could have been set in any fictional world. Or Pern.

The most surprising thing to me was how disturbed I was by scenes of dragon aerial combat. The book sets them up as these sentient war beasts, and I couldn’t help but think of war elephants. The scenes aren’t particularly graphic, but the flippant cartoony descriptions almost made it worse for me.

I would probably recommend reading the book if you had it in your hand and were boarding a flight, otherwise I’d skip it. I’m a sucker for multi-volume sci-fi/fantasy stories, yet I don’t think I’ll continue with the series.