Robert Goulet's Gentlemen Society

Best and Worst of 2009

2009-12-31T11:22:00.002-05:00

Top tens are fun. Here's what I liked and hated from the literary world in this past year.

10. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Obviously I'm not the first to appreciate this one. Does it deserve to be at the bottom of this list though? No, not really. There's no excuse for that but it's staying.

9. The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
Is it non-fiction or fiction? Who cares. This man is brilliant.

8. Moby Dick by Herman Melville
The White Whale! Amazing man book with tons of metaphors that I never got couched in its encyclopedia of all things whale hunting.

7. Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee
Man must act on principle instead of on impulse. But has South Africa come to this yet? Coetzee explores what makes man different from animal, aging, and the political climate of his homeland. See the movie too.

6. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
Brilliant stuff, probably even better in its original language.

5. Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
Plot-less but so good.

4. Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters by J.D. Salinger
I omitted Seymour's part of this book because I didn't want to penalize this story, maybe my Salinger favorite, from being included.

3. American Pastoral by Philip Roth
Maybe the best prose of all year. Effortless, smart and natural.

2. The Plot Against America by Philip Roth
Sorry, this was the best prose of all. This would have been number one but it gets distracted a little in the middle. Its retaining of number 2, though shows how strong the rest is. Give me more Roth!

1. All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy
This man leaves me speechless.

Best Short Story Collections:
1. Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger
2. Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver
3. In the Garden of the North American Martyrs by Tobias Wolff

Best Non-fiction:
1. A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Don Miller
2. The Longest Trip Home by John Grogan
3. Superfreakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner

Dishonorable Mention:
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
To Hate Like This is To Be Happy Forever by Will Blythe
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
Marry Me by John Updike

Superfreakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner

2009-12-31T11:17:00.003-05:00

Sam posted earlier this year on this book's predecessor and it seemed like he wasn't too thrilled with it. I thought the first book was awesome and really interesting. This book is more of the same but not quite as interesting. They didn't pull out that many original correlations as they did before and some sections were less relevant. It's still a good read and written very well, though, and the first part on the economics of prostitution is intriguing.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Don Miller

2009-12-31T11:10:00.003-05:00

Donald Miller's real good. Not liked by the entire Christian circle, but you can't argue that his thoughts are thought provoking. In this book, he asks why do some lives make sense and others don't? If your life was a movie would anybody make it to the end? He challenges us to be bold and accept different stuff. If we keep trying to reach the comfortable and live the comfortable life then our deaths will never come "too soon". With lots of funny episodes throughout, this book works and is highly readable.

Rabbit Run by John Updike

2009-12-31T11:03:00.002-05:00

Rabbit Angstrom was a hometown hero but now he's slipped into a mundane job with a wife whom he's doesn't truly love and a life that doesn't seem worth it. So he runs. And that's the book and it's really good and some of the most harmonious and poetic uses of the English language for prose can be found in here. Small plot, but lots to feast on.

The Wild Things by Dave Eggers

2009-12-02T20:09:00.003-05:00

It goes without saying that we all loved this book as kids and the fact that there is a movie just made us giddy with nostalgia. I really only read this novel though because Dave Eggers wrote it. But I can’t say he did a good job with it. There is much more to the story obviously than we gleaned from the short children’s story, such as Max’s parents are divorced and somewhat distracted, and his sister is in her teenage bitchy years. Wanting to escape from this, Max sails (for years) to the place where the wild things are. Max announces that he is their king and is there to solve their problem with the chattering noise they hear underground. Good start but then this conflict with the monster below is never developed. It seems that the worst thing Max is there to end is boredom. The enact a pretend war, where Eggers just looks to entertain his young audience by talking about how the wild things gnawed on each others’ arms and pulled up chunks of the earth with lava on it—simply put, silly stuff. They then decide to build a fort, taking up the last fifth of the book. This book was obviously suited to a generation much younger than me but I thought it would still follow the basic principles of a tale. In my opinion, it would have been much better had Max come to the place where the wild things are and helped them defeat something pretty much harmless, like the dark, and then left to go back home, not because he had to but because he was simply getting hungry and had to be home for dinner. That’s what I imagined the story to be anyway.

The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

2009-12-02T20:04:00.001-05:00

This man is nothing short of a genius and understands much more things about life and the world than anyone I can think of. I read this epistolary work a few years ago and loved it so much that I had to read it again. Actually that’s not the entirety of my motivation for rereading this—there’s a lot of thick stuff in there that I only unlocked during the second go round. Who knows what will happen on my third.

This book is a collection of short letters written under the guise of a senior devil adviser to a young tempter who is trying to turn a man morally corrupt. Basically, Wormwood is the bad devil that resides above one of your shoulders and Screwtape is writing letters to him advising him on how best to conduct business. The book is brilliant in how it forces you to rethink what is actually wrong and how easy it is to fall into that. More important though, it reveals a lot about the theology and “the Enemy”. One of my favorite books.

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

2009-12-02T19:59:00.003-05:00

Pretty much more of the same with this book. It came out before Engulfed. After reading it, I think the best thing about Sedaris is his dad. He’s a real character.

When You are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris

2009-12-02T19:54:00.003-05:00

I initially bought this book for my host mom for her birthday but due to a very sad and estranged relationship with her husband, my host dad, who did not give her a present, I decided I would stay out of things and not give her anything as well. So I kept and I read it. My past history with David Sedaris, who writes regularly for The New Yorker, has been off and on. My first impression of him was that he was not a very good writer but he did have a unique ability to turn an everyday, mundane situation into an enjoyable read. His most recent New Yorker appearance though was a stark improvement in his writing and what actually made me decide that my host mom might like him. This book is nowhere near genius but Sedaris’ candor is somewhat absorbing. He’s super gay and kinda flaunts his partner throughout the book but if you can get past that then the book will, in the least, entertain you, which I think is all it really tries to achieve.

The Discomfort Zone by Jonathan Franzen

2009-12-02T19:44:00.002-05:00

I particularly like memoirs more than autobiographies because they usually only include the most compelling parts of one’s life rather than try to include every detail. Yet there is still usually a constant theme throughout, something cohesive that binds all the stories and achieves something more than just random events strung together. I don’t really remember that happening in this book. I remember him talking about his hot German teacher on one page and then his fixation with birds on the next. The writing is infinitely more readable, though, than it was in The Corrections because it came out smoother and more natural, which is a benefit of writing a memoir—you don’t have to try too hard. On the other hand, though, Franzen took too many liberties with this and, to me at least, the book came out as a half effort.

A Good Man is Hard to Find by Flannery O'Connor

2009-10-27T02:05:00.004-04:00

Kurt Vonnegut once wrote a list of 8 rules for writing short stories. He ended the list by saying that Flannery O'Connor broke all of them except the first ("Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.").
He clearly meant this as a compliment, and he was right on. How she wrote the stories in this collection and made them as good as they are just doesn't add up. Another rule on Vonnegut's list is to "give the reader at least one character he or she can root for," and it is the one she most consistently breaks. The characters with whom one identifies (other than a child or two) are usually just the least despicable.
All the same, Vonnegut was right to say that she never breaks the first rule. Every story in this collection is stunning, haunting, and impossible to ignore. The title story might be one of my favorites ever. In fact, The River might be another.
One thing O'Connor does is introduce you to a character who is ruminating on his or her (usually her) annoyance with another character, suggesting to the reader that the object of the rumination likely has a deeper, more justified, and more profound resentment or even hatred for the one ruminating. This is an interesting motif, but it hardly accounts for the excellence of these stories in the face of such unlikable characters. But the excellence is undeniable.
So then: what is it that makes these stories so great? Honestly, I couldn't say.

Independence Day by Richard Ford

2009-10-12T03:30:00.002-04:00

A successful practice of my middle life, a time I think of as the Existence Period, has been to ignore much of what I don’t like or that seems worrisome and embroiling, and then usually see it go away.

Frank Bascombe certainly deserves a place among the best characters in literary history. The simpler he tries to make life by idling his time from one insignificant moment to the next, the more complex it becomes. However, this book being written in the first-person, it became a very tough read for me. Not really in the sense that the passages were too intense and beyond grasping; on the contrary, Ford’s style is straightforward and strays far from the abstract. But each chapter seemed more mundane than the last. I realize that this is the whole idea for the book and its relation to reality, but the execution was incredibly boring and, at times, insufferable…

My host family wants to play cards now so I guess that’s about it.

Goodbye, Columbus by Philip Roth

2009-10-07T03:01:00.002-04:00

This book of one novella, the title’s namesake, and five short stories, was Roth’s first; published when he was only 26. And you can tell. The smooth, extremely lucid and comfortable prose that I found in The Plot Against America and American Pastoral was absent and the story was begging for a point. At multiple points, it seemed like Roth would drone into useless scenes and rely on wit to pull him through, suggesting that he did not know exactly where to take the novella next (perhaps this is why it is a novella instead of a novel). At the end of each paragraph it seemed that Roth was gasping for air. For young, aspiring writers, I think this, along with trying to be excessively witty and eloquent, is a result of trying to imitate the authors who inspired them to write in the first place. What happens though is very unnatural and ungainly and I’d say a great laugh to the author many years later when they have so much more control of the page. However, that being said, the main problem may be that this book is about Jewish identity—particularly at the stage in life where your identity is most confusing—and I’m simply a goy.

I do want to point out though that the surface-level parallels between this novella and The Mysteries of Pittsburgh are striking. Both main characters are in their early twenties, both are socially awkward, they both work at the library at their college, both meet and begin sexual relations with girls during the course of the book, and both have unusual family lives. Both books take place during the summer and were the first projects for both of the now famous authors.

The short stories that followed Goodbye Columbus were a huge pickup. I think one was terrible, the rest were really good and one—Defender of the Faith—was incredible. If you can find it on the internet (it appeared initially in The New Yorker) then I highly recommend reading it. My overall suggestion, though, is to start with another Roth book.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

2009-10-04T14:30:00.002-04:00

Just finished re-reading this--I'm going for it--masterpiece. Even better this time. Some parts I didn't remember that are amazing:

-The man shooting someone with a flare gun.
-The man's memory about his father and his father's friends unearthing a writhing mass of snakes and setting them on fire.

That's all I have. What a book.

(Movie coming out Nov. 25, but unfortunately not until March in New Zealand)

Light in August by William Faulkner

2009-09-28T17:11:00.003-04:00

I took what was supposed to be a brief break from my strict regimen of short stories to read this. However, this sucker (along with the weird hours I work) bogged me down for something like a month, maybe it was more.
Faulkner was a genius. No passable argument I can imagine could persuade me otherwise. However, this book (which is consistently ranked among his best) did not really do it for me. It was too long for one thing, and a lot of the metaphysical passages were just kind of banal and self-indulgent.
Don't get me wrong. There are some really great, really astonishing parts to this book. But overall, it's just weighty and slow. I felt buried by it. The Sound and the Fury is a far superior work (and I hear its greatness is multiplied a hundredfold when followed by Absalom! Absalom!), and As I Lay Dying is one of the best novels I've ever read.
In these latter two, the metaphysics are even more present than they are in the book in question. The difference is that the musings in As I Lay Dying and The Sound and the Fury ring true and knock you out, instead of just piling it on.
I think that some of this may be due simply to structure and point of view. The Sound and the Fury is broken up into four parts, all in first person, and As I Lay Dying is made up of several chapters, once again all in first person and from the point of view of characters, but this time shifting around between all the major characters and some of the minor ones. Light in August is in a weird cousin of third-person omniscient: the narrative voice simply cannot make up its mind whether or not it is inside the heads of the characters. It tells you exactly what they ARE thinking sometimes, other times what they MAY be thinking, and still other times what they are APPARENTLY thinking. I think that something like this could conceivably work if there were a purpose to it, but the narrator's level of character access changes so much and so suddenly that it feels completely indiscriminate, like a movie made up entirely of jump cuts, aerial shots, and close-ups: interesting for a while, then completely insufferable.
This odd narrator talks a lot about the difference between knowledge and memory. Some of this is very cool, and may justify some of the narrative jumble. But after a while the knowledge and memory passages get a bit dreary, and the novel's structure goes down with the ship.

All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

2009-09-24T03:51:00.002-04:00

Remember when I said that Roth was the best living American author? McCarthy knows I shouldn’t have said that. The proof is in this book. Right on page 59. “I dont see how you can say somebody is just flat out the best.” The man must be watching me. And that scares the crap out of me knowing all the sheer terror he arouses in me just reading his words. He creates a lot of black-souled characters (e.g. Chigurh from No Country; The Judge from Blood Meridian) who really curdle your blood or else good people who experience truly horrifying things (The Road), which curdles your blood as well. He’s good at that. He’s also good at other things: winning awards, being reclusive, slouching during an interview (suck on that body language, OPRAH), and not graduating from the University of Tennessee.

But this book, let’s talk about this book. Teenage cowhands, John Grady Cole and Lacy Rawlins decide to venture out on their own and cross the border into Mexico to find work at a hacienda. John Grady starts fancying the owner’s daughter, and although I haven’t seen the movie, I think the movie really romanticizes this relationship, but in the book, it’s not the biggest part of the plot but rather just one aspect. John Grady and Rawlins eventually have to part ways and it is, in a word, heartbreaking. John Grady then finds himself in a Mexican prison and this is where classic McCarthy shows himself and we see the horrible measures John Grady has to take to exonerate himself by force.

One of the many things I liked so much about The Road was the deep and caring filial affection the man showed for the boy. Given the circumstances, I think it was a father-son relationship at its best with the man showing a hardy resolve and not expecting his son to be any older than he was. Without being cloying, McCarthy makes John Grady and Rawlins’ friendship much of the same and it is fun to see them tackle difficult situations, especially as young men, together.

The writing is also incredible. It’s so minimalist and again reminded me of Carver of the west, although McCarthy does take more liberties with his talent and will occasionally type up long descriptive sentences that are usually breathtaking. I highly recommend this book to anybody and I stress anybody because I can’t picture anybody not liking it. It’s amazing and the best part is that it’s the first book of the Border Trilogy so there’s plenty more gold to mine.

No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy

2009-09-22T04:07:00.002-04:00

Somewhere out there is a true and living prophet of destruction and I dont want to confront him. I know he’s real. I have seen his work. I walked in front of those eyes once. I wont do it again. I wont push my chips forward and stand up and go out to meet him.

You might recognize some of the quote above from the beginning of the awesome movie for this book. Tommy Lee Jones narrates a shortened and slightly modified version of the start of the book at the start of the movie. Interspersed throughout the book are other ruminations like this one by one of the three main characters, Bell, the sheriff, who realizes more and more that times are changing and the bad guys are getting badder. That’s the clear theme that gets acknowledged much more in the book than the movie. Both of these works are beautiful pieces in their own fields, but I think seeing the movie first really handicaps the book. Going through each of the scenes in the book, I already had images in my mind from the movie, and I think this precludes one from fully enjoying a book. Conceiving your own images from reading a book is a lot of the fun.

But this book is still really good in its own right. It’s notorious for being a quick read but I found that I had to slow down my pace because McCarthy could be real vague at times and lose you if you weren’t careful. But this minimalist style is what makes him so great. He reminds me a lot of Carver in this book, and I’m not sure if that comparison has been made a lot by literary critics or not at all but this kept recurring to me. I do know, though, thanks to Jon, that McCarthy is considered the successor to Faulkner, but I can’t speak to that because I’ve yet to read him. I really like how McCarthy will make his characters have some pretty deep conversations but using simple, colloquial language that’s true to their personalities. These discussions can range from the nature of life to how God works to what a girl really wants. And they’re so good.

The movie was a faithful adaptation save for one character being condensed in her role. Chigurh comes across as much darker and more ruthless in the book. Also, all of the funny parts in the movie came from the genius of McCarthy, who apparently has a good sense of humor. A lot of the dialogue in the movie comes verbatim from the book. Cormac’s the man.

The Plot Against America by Philip Roth

2009-09-17T03:58:00.002-04:00

And I couldn’t just go and sign one out from the playground back of the school unless we were going to use it right there, so what I did—I who’d not stolen anything so far other than some change from my parents’ pockets—what I did without a moment’s hesitation was to stroll down Kerr avenue to where there were one-family houses with front and back lawns and case every driveway until I saw what I was after—a football to steal, a real leather Wilson football, scuffed from the pavement, with worn leather lacing and a bladder you inflated, that some kid with money had left unattended. I tucked it under my arm and tuck off, tearing all the way up the hill to Summit Avenue as if I were returning a kickoff for old Notre Dame.

Mmm… Philip Roth. I love Philip Roth. Just looking at that cover image makes me froth with joy. The Plot Against America. How corny is that? If somebody told me they were reading a book called this, I’d think, Oh you read those types of books. But then below the title is the bold, almost protruding, ROTH—a freaking monosyllabic force—and then you know this book is about to punch you in the stomach. If you’ve read the novel you’ll know that that actually doesn’t make any sense and I don’t know where all this worthless rambling is coming from but “I already typed it so it’s staying.”

In the book, Charles Lindbergh, aviation hero, is elected President in 1940 instead of FDR. Lindbergh ran on a “keep America out of the European war” platform, and, when he won, scared the crap out of American Jews for it appeared that he was an Anti-Semite, albeit much more subtler than Hitler. This is all set up in the beginning of the book and it’s extremely interesting and then we are introduced to the Roth family (the fictional version), who are the microcosm of all Jewish families in America at the time, and eventually a little civil war breaks out in the home. The first third of the book is absolutely incredible. I really can’t understate how much I liked it. The rest is still good but is more frantic. A lot more people involved in the “plot” are introduced and Roth seems to really be tying up all the loose ends of his mastermind hypothetical history and I think this makes the book less tragic. But, like I said, it’s still really good; it’s just that the first hundred twenty some pages are especially amazing.

The writing, of course, is top shelf. Roth’s command of his story is beautiful. It’s so incisive and sharp that the words seem to exist on their own, without a creator, and that, my friends, is the pinnacle of good writing. It reads so effortlessly and you can tell that this is a mature author writing at his most comfortable. I think the best word to describe the writing is lucid. It’s definitely the most clear and articulate stuff I’ve read this year.

This and American Pastoral make me want to scream high above the mountaintops: Philip Roth is the best living author publishing in the English language. Now you might say, “But Zach, how can you make such a bold proclamation unless you’ve read every book by every author?” And after shoving my groin in your face, I would probably say, first of all, What have YOU read? and second, the proof is in the pudding—once you’ve tasted the best, you know it can’t be topped. “But Zaaccchhhh.” “But Zach nothing, Roth cannot and will not be beat. It’s gotta be either him or McCarthy… Mary McCarthy that is.” (I’m obviously kidding. I always see her books beside Cormac’s and although she’s renowned she’ll always be the lesser McCarthy.)

Seriously, folks, I really recommend this. You might try American Pastoral first but either way you’re winning the lottery.

The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon

2009-09-17T03:44:00.002-04:00

On the heels of the last sentence of my last post, I decided to read something lighter and fun. The Mysteries of Pittsburgh was just that—a real feel good story—while still possessing some serious matters. It takes place entirely in the summer, between school years for the main character Arthur. Arthur is pretty typical for his age—callow and living solely for the moment. He has a father whose line of work is incredibly dubious, yet never fully explained, a best friend, also weirdly named Arthur (I guess Chabon really likes that particular name and also American cities—hence the title and another B character named Cleveland), and he picks up a sort-of girlfriend, named Phlox, during the book.

In a nutshell, the book is all about growing up and growing into yourself. Arthur eventually succumbs to his best friend’s sexual advances even after starting to date Phlox and he can’t ever seem to figure out which flavor of ice cream he really likes. His relationship with his father is also intriguing. His father seems sincere in wanting to care for Arthur but never really lets him get too close because of his career; maybe to protect his son but maybe not. Consequently, Arthur knows father but he doesn’t really know him.

So yes, this book was fun and easy to relate to (apparently there's a film adaptation as well). The writing is sharp and witty and especially impressive considering it was written when Chabon was only 24. He’s also a pretty good friend of Franzen’s and I think they are considered among the top of American letters for their generation. The title is pretty gay, but take this book to the beach and I think you'll like it.

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

2009-09-15T03:07:00.002-04:00

On the surface level, The Corrections appears pretty commonplace and maybe even boring to some. It is the story of the Lamberts, Alfred and Enid, both elderly, and their three full-grown children. The book undertakes a big scope looking into the individual stories of each of the five members of the Lambert family, each possessing different sets of problems. Alfred is incorrigibly obstinate and suffers from Parkinson’s disease. Enid is, in a word, delusional, disbelieving anything bad can happen and is dead set on a fairy tale ending, which in this life is having the whole family together for one last Christmas. Gary is a successful broker but whose marriage is a daily battlefield. Chip, a former university professor has fled the country caught up in a scheme that defrauds American investors. And Denise is a coveted restaurant cook who struggles with her sexuality.

So there’s the plot. I liked this book but didn’t really love it. Each different part was interesting enough but when the book culminated with the last Christmas and everybody present, it didn’t equal the whole I was waiting for. Moreover, Franzen, at least in this book, has such an ostentatious way of writing that was annoying and hardly readable at times. It seemed as if he was trying to be too witty, too smart, and too clever with his phrasing, and the result were sentences and words that appeared forced. Sometimes Franzen’s turgidity could ramble on for a quarter of a page.

Still, many people love this book, and like I said, I didn’t hate it. At about a fourth in, I actually thought it was gonna end as a terrific book. Most people, I think though, will either love it or hate it. Which, at 650 pages, makes it a big risk to even begin reading. My suggestion: read it anyway. No matter what side you take, this book will engender much more perspective than any light read.

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

2009-09-08T03:33:00.002-04:00

I will endeavor to remember what I can (under protest), and to write what I can (also under protest); and what I can’t remember and can’t write, Louis (his butler) must remember, and write for me. He is an ass, and I am an invalid: and we are likely to make all sorts of mistakes between us. How humiliating!

The above is a pretty sweet quote from the funniest of the book’s dozen different narrators. This one’s name is Mr. Fairlie and he really is an invalid, a very sarcastic, hilarious one that induces literal lol’s, so I’m guessing Louis really is an ass as well. But like I said this book is told through the eyes of its many different characters, but probably not in the interesting way you’re thinking, which is many people giving their perspective on one single situation. (Something akin to a very funny story concocted in sophomore English with Mr. Williams… “I passed by the window completely unnoticed.”… “I definitely just saw a man pass by the window.”) It’s more like the story being told by one character and then another character picking up the chain exactly where it was dropped. So as you can see this allows ol’ Wilkie get heavy in the plot all the while using the first person and different voices, which had to be fun, because, at one point, he got to write as an invalid.

This book is a solid archetype of the Victorian age, so you can imagine its proper prose and old words, but overall it’s beautifully written. The main kicker though is the plot, which was the main reason I picked up this handsome copy from a used bookshop. It’s loaded with twists and turns and gets a little complicated, attesting to how brilliantly it was orchestrated. That’s the main thing going for this thriller, so I can recommend this book if you’re into that, although it is a bit daunting at 650 pages.

What’s also kind of peculiar is that the text is subtly misogynistic, but never too offending (but who am I to say?), and actually pretty funny. The examples are mostly just one-line snippets and there were some really good ones in the first of the book but I only started dog-earing the pages about halfway through. Anyway, here’s one example:

“It holds with animals, it holds with children, and it holds with women, who are nothing but children grown up.”

I should add that while sentences like this are riddled throughout the book, Collins does make one of his female characters very strong, independent and sharp.

Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver

2009-09-03T03:26:00.002-04:00

I started reading this when I first got to New Zealand and stored it in my host family’s living room for lonely minutes. A story here, a story there… and now, unfortunately, I’ve come to the end. Jon has covered Raymond Carver pretty thoroughly so I won’t restate our love for this man all over again but I guess I will offer a few thoughts.

I liked Jon’s metaphor on Carver’s writing and houses, and building on this (pun definitely intended!!!), there would be nothing in Mr. Carver’s house just because it looks pretty. While writers like Nabokov and Updike can go into long, beautifully descriptive paragraphs, Carver only gives us what is necessary to know. What he’s got inside his simple post and beam house may not drop your jaw, but it’s all working, all practical, and part of the plan. There’s nothing fancy here, folks, but you will indeed feel very comfortable.

What I also like so much about Carver, and I could probably think of a million sentences that start this way, is that it doesn’t even seem like he’s trying. While many authors draw up elaborate plots or explosive climaxes, Carver says, No, I think I’ll just write about a man going over to dinner at his coworker’s. And that’s it. And he gets us with that. And it’s brilliant because it’s a hyper-realistic portrait of ourselves. The light turns on, there is some minute action, and then the light turns off. Doesn’t get any more minimalist than the Carver pen. Now my sentences have become completely fragmentary. I’ll stop there and, keeping with the precedent, furnish this post with a handful of stories that I specially remember (but be it told: they’re all exceptional):

Nobody Said Anything
Fat
What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
Fever
Distance
So Much Water So Close To Home
Cathedral
A Small, Good Thing
Menudo
Elephant

One more thing: I include this particular cover image not for the sake of variance but because this is what my old copy looks like and it is just ghastly hideous. Without a doubt the fugliest looking book on my shelf yet one of the most cherished.

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers

2009-08-19T03:45:00.002-04:00

So he’s got one trick where, when the frisbee’s coming, he’ll just lay down on his stomach for as long as he can, and then, at the last possible moment, he’ll stand up and then . . . take a few steps and go catch the Frisbee. That’s it. It’s a pretty stupid f@*$ing trick, right?

This book is cool. Vernacularly speaking, it’s quite hip and Dave seems like a pretty cool guy. But think his memoir of sorts comes up short, way short. I like how he doesn’t try to start at the first of his life and bore us with all that David Copperfield crap (Can a brother get an amen for that Holden Caulfield reference?), so I have no problem with him just throwing us in the middle of something. That something was the death of his parents as he described how they, the mother slowly and the father unexpectedly, came to the end. Dave’s (I honestly think he’d prefer I use his first name) life changes as he now, while still in college, decides to raise his 10-year-old brother basically on his own, with some help from his sister. That’s more or less the plot. Of course there are still other sideline happenings such as his work with Might magazine and his tryout for The Real World, the boring transcript of which is almost exactly 1/8th of the 400+ page book.

First of all, there is definite talent in this writing and really the only thing keeping all else afloat at times. But through these anecdotes, I kept asking myself, What’s the point? And this usually means that what’s happening is not entertaining or the person is not interesting enough. This is a problem! I like how he doesn’t try to fill in all the blanks in this memoir by trying to connect each event to the next to make it all linear, but, ironically, the events just aren’t that great themselves. Most of them entail a situation where Dave panics a little bit in a funny way—usually by going, “Oh, f$%*. God. Jesus Christ.” He’s never serious and always reveals the humorous side but I’m guessing most people found this funnier than I did. It was funny at times but, let’s be real, Maddox of thebestpageintheuniverse.com is much better at meandering.

I bet if you’ve read this that you don’t remember any of the characters’ names because there not developed all that well. There are lots of death related situations—friend on the verge of suicide, friend put in a coma, and another actually dies, I forget how—which is all good and fine to write about but at least make us care about that person so we can care about whether they live or not. I dunno. Dave the character is likeable, and Dave the writer is good and kinda funny—I like the quote I inserted—but there wasn’t much happening for me in this book. I thought the ending was pretty brilliant but it really only amounted to hanging a pretty picture in an empty room.

Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee

2009-08-17T04:05:00.003-04:00

Hmm… this book has a lot going for it. It’s short, fast-paced, relaxed (yes, both), fun, and profound. David, a university professor in Cape Town, South Africa(?) and two-time divorcée, begins an affair with one of his female students and it isn’t long before the school finds out and starts hashing out how to deal with the situation. This process is actually pretty hilarious as the deans want David to give a genuine apology but he can’t bring himself to do it. Obviously disturbed by this, the administration decides to discontinue his term at the college so he moves in with his daughter, who shelters homeless dogs, in a rural area. They are soon the victims of a robbery and something more serious. The plot thickens…I just realized that it’s pretty hard to talk about this book without giving too much away, but it as at this point that we see how people act in fear and how senseless it can make us. Despite his disgrace at the first of the novel (and it happens again later on) and his so what perspective on it, David becomes more of the voice of reason. Yet we also get interesting ways of looking at situations in other characters.

I think this book also says a lot about the political landscape of Africa, that of which I know nearly nil about. One of my friends, though, was studying abroad in Botswana and one night he and his friends were walking down the street when a car advertently started coming right for them. My friend didn’t get run over but somehow (I’m not exactly sure) he gashed up his head and was bleeding pretty profusely. His friends had a cell phone but couldn’t speak the native language so they looked at a bystander and motioned for him to use their phone to call the hospital. So they handed him the phone and he ran off with it, stealing it while my friend lay bleeding in the street. This reveals just how cutthroat modern day Africa can still be. And I suspect this is a big motif of this book, though I can’t speak in depth about it.

I will say that Coetzee (phonetically: coo-tsee-uh) has an utterly smooth voice. Beautiful sentences without being showy or complicated at all. The plot is direct and I really like how he doesn’t muck around. For instance, there was both the meeting of the student and the undressing of the student within 20 pages. He also puts in these rhetorical questions in his writing that are absolutely spot-on to the situation. I wish I could extract one for you as an example but I don’t have my copy of the book handy so you’re just gonna have to read it. Love it, though—coming across these rhetorical questions was one of my favorite things about reading this novel. I recommend it. It’s a quick read and, even though serious, it’s quite fun. If my word isn’t enough, this book was the recipient of the 1999 Booker Prize and Coetzee won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2003. You might find it hard to see where everything is going in the beginning and maybe even through the middle, but see it to the end. It feels so complete with the last paragraph and the more I think about this book, the more I like it. And I really like thinking that he didn’t put any effort at all into this title. But maybe he did. I dunno. It’s a good one either way.

Just found out that there is a 2008 film adaptation of this starring John Malkovich and holy freaking crap, that's awesome. It also won the International Film Critics' Award.

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

2009-08-14T03:53:00.007-04:00

On November 15, 1959, in the small town of Holcomb, Kansas, four members of the Clutter family were savagely murdered by blasts from a shotgun held a few inches from their faces. There was no apparent motive for the crime, and there were almost no clues.

So reads the back of this book, and it is this crime that Truman Capote painstakingly reconstructs to make a “nonfiction novel.” The result is pretty much a masterpiece in my opinion. It’s compulsively readable, in part because it is a true story but largely in how it is presented. Leading up to the murder and aftermath, Capote weaves the narrative of the Clutter family and the people of Holcomb with that of the killers, Dick Hickock and Perry Smith, making an overwhelmingly suspenseful and harrowing account. You can tell that Capote engulfed himself in these murders and investigation by how tight-fitting his research was—although it’s a 350-page book that concerns itself mainly with an event that took place in a couple hours, the information and interviews never seem tangential or boring. Furthermore, although Capote became good friends with people involved in this murder—friends of the family, detectives, and even the killers—his reporting is entirely objective and it never occurred to me that there was any hint of his opinion inserted or some kind of spin put on the tale. And that is why I think this book has stood the test of time, because it reads like a novel, except it actually happened.

A note on Capote’s writing: it is vivid throughout and usually lucid, but I felt at times that he was trying to pack too much information into one sentence using multiple commas and whatnot. So at first I had to go back and reread a few times to make sure I got everything but eventually the style proves effective. If you begin to read the first few pages of this book then I highly doubt you’ll be able to not finish it. This is one of those books is seriously hard to put down. Moreover, unlike most true-crime books, this one is addicting without really being a “perfect murder” or one that involves a long or ingenious investigation. The main draw is the motives. What makes two guys brutally murder a whole family whom they don’t even know? Especially considering the year being 1959 and the place being probably smaller than Newland. However, despite how ruthless these killers were, don’t be surprised if you feel empathy for them at the end. It’s genius.

I watched two movies related to this book as well, with one being the actual film adaption that came out right after the book and the other being a story on the story—how the town of Holcomb wrapped its arms around flamboyant Capote while he researched the crime. The former is black and white and a pretty terrible adaption as far as they go. It was faithful and all but not terrifying in the least. The book actually chilled the blood much more, which I think is harder to do in writing than in movies. The two actors who played the killers were spot-on to what I envisioned them, but I would recommend just going ahead and skipping this outdated movie altogether. Capote, the other movie, which came out just a few years ago, however, gives brilliant insight on Capote, the man, and how involved he was in this work. It took over 5 years to complete, partly because Capote knew how good this book could be and didn’t want to miss his chance to open up a new territory of literature but also because the legal proceedings of the killers and their eventual death sentence took long to carry out with appeals, brought about by Capote himself, and whatnot. Describing this process does get a bit hairy and drawn out in the last section of the book, especially considering the main point of the book has nothing to do with it, but eventually it does lead to the inevitable hangings of Smith and Hickock. A big part of the movie is about the relationship Capote concocted with these killers and although he tries to convince others and even himself that he deeply cares about them as people, it’s clear that he only sees them as complicated puzzles that need to be pieced together. Capote is portrayed as the life of the party and is absorbed entirely within himself who feigns modesty but really knows the power of his personality and his talent. Yet, save his style of writing, none of Capote comes out in In Cold Blood. He, himself, became a huge part of this true story but he is able to forget that and instead chronicle everything like a very smart fly on the wall. That is what makes this a breathtaking work and it is easier to appreciate this fact when you read the book and watch Capote. There is also a featurette on the DVD that has some film of the real Truman Capote that is further insightful. It also reveals that Philip Seymour Hoffman’s impersonation is bulls eye.

According to the last few moments of the movie, In Cold Blood made Truman Capote the most famous writer in America at the time and after completing it, he was never able to finish another book; perhaps daunted by the expectation of equaling it, let alone topping it. Can’t blame the man—this is a magnum opus.

Marry Me by John Updike

2009-08-10T03:54:00.002-04:00

Breath left her; she felt the skin of her face as one wall of a sealed chamber bounded by the brown ledge holding the pennies, the low violet clouds against which the elm’s twigs showed pale, the rectangle of glass slashed by raindrops. Jerry’s voice called, ‘Hey?’

As you can see from the quote above, John Updike rather has a way with words and can easily turn even descriptions of mundane, everyday activities into beautiful paragraphs that scream to be excerpted and put into posts like this. So it is really a crapshoot in an Updike novel (Confession: I’ve actually only read this one, but it’s a safe presumption) to find passages like the one above and the one from Jon’s The Music School review. He certainly has a superior command of the English language and, as Jon noted, intricate precision is the adorned result. However, as Jon noted as well, Updike was once described as a major stylist and a minor novelist, and sadly that seems to fit the bill for this book.

It has a brilliant start as we are introduced to Jerry and Sally, who are in love, but goshdarnit, they also happen to be married to other people. Their affair takes a typical path, and Sally seems to be more invested in it while Jerry still appears to love his wife, Ruth, as well. But then the pair decides to let the cat out of the bag and tell Ruth but leave Richard, Sally’s husband, in the dark. This is where the book becomes quixotic and the characters much less likable. The nature of the divorce conversation is one of small talk over coffee yet it doesn’t lack indifference. It’s hard to explain this part and perhaps this is to show just how capricious our hearts can be; but it still all seems very unlikely that something of this consequence could be talked of lightly while both parties still say they love each other. For instance, Jerry in one moment will be talking candidly and genuinely to Ruth of his true love for Sally, but in a disrespectful way, to which Ruth, in rightful rage, will tell him to get out. The next moment Jerry will kiss his wife after telling her of his feelings for another woman and his wife will let him pathetically kiss her a second time even though she couldn’t be angrier. Behaviors in this book weren’t consistent with my views of reality. Again, perhaps Updike was intent on showing how unpredictable our hearts can be but on the surface level the plot was weak—the idea is there but its execution proves not very gripping. Furthermore the four characters couldn’t be more craven, arbitrary cowards. On a brighter note, it had a nice ending and I think the last chapter was exceptional—a perfectly tied bow on a perfectly wrapped package despite there being, at least for me, not much inside.

Regardless of my qualms with the plot, I can’t say I didn’t like this book. Even with not much substance, Updike’s writing can carry any moment and it is a pleasure to read. If you find writing like this, writing that’s prose begging to be poetry, then look no further than Mr. Updike; however, I can easily see how flowery sentences can be excessive to some people so be warned. I’m looking forward to reading the Rabbit books sometime soon, which aren’t supposed to have much plot, but this isn’t usually a problem for me. I just like for the characters to not be, without explanation, completely irrational, and all of Updike’s characters I’ve encountered (in his short stories) have been rational in their context until this book. I’ll give it a 6.5 of 10.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

2009-08-07T04:41:00.004-04:00

I took somewhat of a hiatus from reading because I was throwing back about 3 or 4 hundred pages a week, which was fun, but, alas, my mind has limitations and was ready to implode at that pace. So I said, Alright mate (talking to my wearied mind here), I’ll let you have your break, but when we get back I’m gonna hit you with a off-putting story about a brother-sister romance and the hermaphrodite narrator it spawned two generations later. So that brings us to where we are now, Middlesex. Why would anybody want to read such a weird story? I guess many people ask the same question about Lolita, but in that we find that Nabokov not only pulls off a readable and enjoyable story about a pedophile, he somehow makes us sympathize with ol’ Humbert Humbert and his perversity as well. Middlesex is sort of the same way. But I wouldn’t say necessarily in the sense that you feel sorry for the main character, Cal, but more in that he is part of an incredible story.

For those who haven’t read any blurbs on this Pulitzer Prize-winning work, I will briefly summarize it. The story is told in first-person as Cal traces back the roots of his unfortunate genes to the attraction of his grandparents, who were lovers, but also siblings, and thus very disgusting. He tells the story of their romance in Greece and then their emigration in the 1930’s to Detroit, where they dispose of their identities as brother and sister and start anew as husband and wife. They have sex a couple times, probably more, and then out come two children, without defects, who incredulously are not attracted to each other. However, the boy grows up and eventually marries his cousin, and it is out of this wedlock that a girl, Callie, is born. But astute readers will note that Cal is telling this story and it is he that this Callie turns into late into his teens. Cal then narrates his flee from normal life and attempt to start a new one as a boy.

This is obviously a very dumbed-down summation and I actually feel slightly guilty because this book is really good and contains a story that at times felt so real and true that I had to remind myself that it was just a novel. Before I read this book I was a little turned off by the fact that it traces generations before getting to the main point, but now I can safely say that this journey is worth it and even brushes up on your 20th century US history in doing so. When the page finally turns to Cal, about 3/5ths deep, you actually feel a lot more appreciation for him as a character before he has even set eyes on the world. As I said before, Eugenides surrounds the plot with clues that make it all seem like a real account, which I think really boosts its likability in some way.

There is one flaw in the actions of one of the characters that I thought wasn’t really accounted for, but I can’t really divulge it here without giving away too much of the plot. It may be not be too significant for some but it did make me question, Would he really do that? over and over. If you ever read this book, ask me about it. I think that’s all I wanted to say about this book although it’s a little stale on my mind. I do recommend it though, especially in comparison to the other multiple generation spanning, Pulitzer Prize-winning novel in The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver

2009-08-05T16:15:00.005-04:00

I've prattled on about my love for this man's work enough. This is of course an amazing collection. That should be obvious. I'll just give you some new favorites, in no particular order:

Nobody Said Anything
So Much Water So Close to Home
Errand
Blackbird Pie
Elephant
Intimacy
Menudo
Neighbors
Fat
The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off
What's in Alaska?
Collectors

Guess I'll stop now, or else I'll end up listing almost all the stories.

And Zach has mentioned it before, but check out that gaze. That's a man who saw things.

Short Cuts by Raymond Carver, Stories and Poem Selected and with an Introduction by Robert Altman

2009-07-22T14:09:00.004-04:00

First of all, I include the part about film director Robert Altman because the whole reason for the existence of this collection is to gather the stories that inspired the film Short Cuts. I didn't actually read most of the pieces in the Short Cuts book itself, but looked up the list of them and read them in other Carver collections, as I couldn't find a copy of this collection in the library. But I did finally come across the book yesterday, and I read the last story I had left, Tell the Women We're Going, and Altman's introduction.
That whole first paragraph is fairly irrelevant I suppose. No matter. Two of these stories (Vitamins and A Small, Good Thing) I read in Cathedral, about which I have already posted on this blog. If you remember, I was particularly enamored of A Small, Good Thing. I have an admission to make: I didn't actually re-read either of those two stories. I kind of wanted to get all the stories read so I could watch the movie, about which I am very excited. Admittedly, this is not a very healthy attitude with which to read fiction. Oh, well. It is what it is.
I don't know why I keep giving all this personal back story. It's probably pretty boring, but I've already typed it so it's staying. Anyway, all the stories here are very good. And I'm not at all familiar with Carver's poetry, but Lemonade, the only poem in here, is absolutely amazing. I was shocked. Apparently, during his lifetime he was pretty respected as a poet, although that's fallen by the wayside as he has come to be considered one of the best American short story writers ever. Anyway, this book is a great, slim introduction to Carver's work and it provides context if you want to see the film like I want to so much.
It should be mentioned that the film is supposed to be amazing. It's already in the Criterion Collection, 94% on Rotten Tomatoes, and Altman is supposed to be a consistently brilliant director. Of course, none of this really guarantees anything, but it surely makes it likely that the film is good (perhaps some logical cause and effect errors in there, but you know what I mean). I really enjoyed Altman's introduction essay as well. He talked about how he spoke with Tess Gallagher, a poet who was married to Carver (and if I'm not mistaken was his editor at some point), every step of the way through the movie to make sure it would be consistent with Carver's vision.
However, the film, according to Altman and critics, is very much it's own piece of art. That is to say, the film as it is would be great even if the Carver stories didn't exist. You don't have to be a Carver fan or even have read his stories to like the film. Apparently. As I've said, I haven't actually seen it yet. According to Altman, the stories that inspired the film are just that: inspiration. Many liberties are taken with the story lines and characters, names are changed, new characters and story lines invented, and many characters originally from one story find their way into other ones. The cast is huge and amazing. So many great actors. Even Tom Waits is in it! Altman says that each actor brings their own thing and changes the stories in wonderful ways. It sounds like a truly collaborative effort. But Altman, and ultimately Carver, are the forces behind this thing. Supposedly. I haven't seen it.

Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney

2009-07-22T12:28:00.004-04:00

"You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning. But here you are, and you cannot say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar, although the details are fuzzy. You are at a nightclub talking to a girl with a shaved head. The club is either Heartbreak or the Lizard Lounge. All might come clear if you could just slip into the bathroom and do a little more Bolivian Marching Powder. Then again, it might not. A small voice inside you insists that this epidemic lack of clarity is a result of too much of that already."

Let me say this first - Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City was not what I was expecting. That's not to say it was bad. It turned out that my initial understanding was wrong and the result was a better novel than I went in thinking it would be.

Critics label McInerney as a member of the 1980's "Literary Brat Pack," but he is so much more versatile than that. Bright Lights, Big City is noted for its use of the second person to describe the New York City cocaine culture of the electric eighties. Strikingly, this gimmick does not detract from the humanity found within the protagonist. Unlike fellow "Brat Packer" Bret Easton Ellis, McInerney doesn't write post-modern from a nihilistic perspective. His characters have flaws, but they also have regrets and desires to become a better people.

Bright Lights, Big City follows the narrator through his job as a fact-checker for a literary magazine. The story borrows heavily from McInerney's own time as a fact-checker at the New Yorker. At night, he goes out to clubs and does cocaine with his best friend. He has his dreams as a writer, but the rejection of his submissions to the magazine's fiction department coupled with the recent separation from his model wife, Amanda, drives him further into his hedonistic lifestyle. At first, the country girl Amanda did not take New York City's nightlife or the modeling career seriously, but the face of the city slowly creeps over and changes both.

Bright Lights, Big City is a quick read. At 180 pages, you can race through it. Over the course of the book, you are going to actually feel for the protagonist or at least acknowledge his inadequacies. While the novel is not what I was initially expecting, I do want to read more by Raymond Carver's understudy, particularly, Brightness Falls and Story of My Life, which is based on the life of Rielle Hunter, with whom Jay McInerney had a brief relationship and would later go on to have an affair with 2008 presidential candidate John Edwards.

Oddly enough, this book is getting remade into a film in 2010 according to IMDB. The novel was inspiration for the film of the same name in 1988 that starred Michael J. Fox, Keifer Sutherland, and Pheobe Cates. It was crazy enough to attempt to make Bret Easton Ellis' short story vignette collection, The Outsiders, earlier this year. I'll hold my opinion, but I don't have huge expectations.

The Music School by John Updike

2009-07-21T14:25:00.012-04:00

Do you remember a fragrance girls acquire in autumn? As you walk beside them after school, they tighten their arms about their books and bend their heads forward to give a more flattering attention to your words, and in the little intimate area thus formed, carved into the clear air by an implicit crescent, there is a complex fragrance woven of tobacco, powder, lipstick, rinsed hair, and that perhaps imaginary and certainly elusive scent that wool, whether in the lapels of a jacket or the nap of a sweater, seems to yield when the cloudless fall sky like the blue bell of a vacuum lifts toward itself the glad exhalations of all things. This fragrance, so faint and flirtatious on those afternoon walks through the dry leaves, would be banked a thousandfold and lie heavy as the perfume of a flower shop on the dark slope of the stadium when, Friday nights, we played football in the city.

First of all, that's the smallest clear image of the cover I could find (though it's not the cover of my edition), so keep your comments to yourself. (Zach edit: Cover image has been corrected and author has been warned.)

Up top in italics are the first two sentences of this collection (and currently comprise the entirety of my Favorite Quotes section on Facebook...whatever). Yes, two sentences. Go back and see for yourself. They come from the story In Football Season. The recently departed Updike has always been famous for this type of high-style prose, and he is a master of it. In fact, he has been often criticized for focusing so much on style that it sometimes takes away from plot. Harold Bloom, whom I respect immensely (the man is clearly a genius) but with whom I sometimes disagree, went so far as to call him "a minor novelist with a major style." While I can't speak to his novels, as I've never read any of them, I can say that I thoroughly enjoyed this collection, one of his lesser known. I had been wanting to read an Updike book for a long time, and came upon this one at an amazing book sale. That's why I chose this one as opposed to Trust Me, The Same Door, Pigeon Feathers, or the recently released My Father's Tears and Other Stories.
Let's remember that to be called a major stylist by one of the world's foremost literary critics and theorists is nothing to sneeze at, even being called a minor novelist in the same breath. One thing is for sure: Updike can write a sentence. And in my opinion the man can write a story. I can certainly understand why people say his plots are pretty lightweight. There basically isn't one in In Football Season, as well as The Morning or Leaves. However, I absolutely loved the first and the last of those, and the other wasn't bad. The only story that I truly didn't like was The Indian. It just seemed sort of pointless. But I did read it in the dark in a bed in a dorm room when I was exhausted, so I may have missed a lot.
I read the first three stories of the book while still in school and just recently picked it up and read the rest. Some of my favorites, other than the ones mentioned, are Giving Blood, The Bulgarian Poetess, Harv is Plowing Now, Twin Beds in Rome, and The Christian Roommates. Mr. Updike claims that he never thought of how he wrote as style. Rather, he just wanted to make things perfectly precise. My friends, he does just that. There are so many moments when you'll know exactly what he means and think that you were the only one who saw it that way. Lightweight plots sometimes (but by no means always), but complex characters (Frank Bascombe is sometimes thought of as the new Rabbit Angstrom (who is not a character in any of these stories, but I just thought I'd mention that as it is an Updike character)) and wonderfully rich and precise sentences.

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

2009-07-13T23:50:00.002-04:00

With a sudden movement she bowed his head and joined her lips to his and he read the meaning of her movements in her frank uplifted eyes. It was too much for him. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to her, body and mind, conscious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of her softly parting lips. They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as though they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odour.

Wow. Isn’t that beautiful? Great stuff, right? I could feel genius pouring out of my fingertips as I typed that. That passage seems really Nabokovian. (Or maybe Nabokov is Joycian since Joyce came first, but I read Nabokov first, so…) Anyway, I was unfortunately only able to comprehend little of the supposed brilliance in this book but liked it anyway. It is the story of Stephen Dedalus, whom we get to see brief moments in his life from when he was three to when he is in university. The plot gets really interesting when he decides to go to a brothel but then instantly wants to repent after hearing a passionate sermon, one that the reader gets the entire 15 pages of. But it is really good. I didn’t instantly recognize that this was intensely good writing because the text became more like a vortex that just sucked me in and I didn’t even realize how drawn in I actually was until the preacher’s fervor stopped overflowing and the monologue ended. It was really cool, moving stuff that could only be rivaled by the very similar church scene in Moby Dick, albeit that one was much more centered, no doubt, on whales. Though I will add that this block of the book could go either way with its readers—I could just as easily see somebody getting distracted during it. For me, though, I was able to follow it as closely as a shadow.

I was reading this book to gear up for Ulysses but after reading Portrait I don’t really feel more prepared; rather I feel pretty despondent so I’m not sure if I’m ready to undergo that great literary endeavor. I want it to be more enjoyment than torture so I don’t think I’m ready, not yet.

The Sportswriter by Richard Ford

2009-07-13T23:42:00.002-04:00

Mid-Marchish, this year: I go into a bookstore with Jon and ask him to pick me out a book to read. He selects about a dozen, narrows it down to three, and lets me decide. The Sportswriter by Richard Ford, an author I had not heard of before, is one of the finalists and looks compelling but I ultimately choose American Pastoral—a decision I would soon not regret. 1.
Maybe a couple days later, possibly a few weeks, I’m in a used bookshop in Winston-Salem with Hunter. As if it is calling me, I randomly come across The Sportswriter. Six bucks? Why not. 2.
I pack for New Zealand and throw in The Sportswriter along with other books. 3.
One month later, Hunter, while amidst Cheever and his “big red book” of short stories, says via e-mail that the story, Reunion, by Cheever, is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever read… Or something to that effect. OK, I decide, I’ll check it out. 4.
I search Reunion and very luckily find a New Yorker fiction podcast where the story is read and discussed by none other than Richard Ford. Hey, I think, that name sounds quite familiar! Was he our 37th or 38th President? 5.
I agree, Reunion is absolute bliss. In the podcast, Ford mentions that the story inspired one of his own stories also called Reunion. I decide to search that as well to see if it’s anything like the other. 6.
Awesome. Ford’s Reunion is completely awesome. One of the best I’d read in a while. I decide to check out more of this Ford guy. 7.
I find another of his stories published in The New Yorker circa 2005. Another fine piece of work. 8.
I rediscover, sitting on my table, The Sportswriter by Ford whom I’ve come to love through the back way despite Jon holding open the front door for me the whole time. I’m massively pumped to read this book. 9.
I READ THE SPORTSWRITER! 10!

That was just a long way of saying that I couldn’t tell you how excited I was to read this book because of how much I liked Ford’s short stories and also because I had this book sitting on my table while I didn’t even know how much I liked the author. I didn’t mean for that list to be 10 points long but it conveniently worked out that way—like it was intentional. Anyway, enough of that.

The book follows a middle-aged, divorced sportswriter, Frank, over the course of a very busy Easter weekend. Briefly, Frank is lost in the world. He used to be a writer, as in a fiction writer, and actually published a well-acclaimed collection of short stories before deciding to jump to sportswriting, although it is clear that he is simply running away from expectations. He had a good life with his ex-wife, who is named only as X, but it still wasn’t complete in some way. It was missing some piece that didn’t make Frank whole and this is evident in the reason why X left him. It is actually no use in trying to describe the plot because it is so inconsequential to how deep and multidimensional the character of Frank is. That is the book—trying to figure Frank out. He is a habitual liar in trivial matters, looking more to please or avoid awkwardness more than anything. Yet what I think is so great is that I can’t feel sorry for Frank. Although I wish he was still with his ex-wife and writing novels and he seems to secretly want that too, Richard Ford always shut the door on sympathy by putting him in a situation where he isn’t very likable. Even though I have some strong opinions on Frank, I can’t do him a quality character analysis (spent way too much time on that introduction list) but what I can do is highly recommend this book. He is a character that, I think, will stay in your mind a while because he is so human and everything that comes with that.

The writing is also top-notch stuff. It’s highly readable in the sense that it flows effortlessly from one line to the next and does so with a very easy vocabulary. I’m quite interested in the sequel, Independence Day, which won the Pulitzer in… 1995?
If you read this book, look out for all the times that Ford describes a woman as having big breasts. I believe every woman’s body he describes (at least 4) is well-chested.

The King of Madison Avenue by Kenneth Roman

2009-07-13T16:08:00.008-04:00

“In writing ads, act as you would if you met the individual buyer face to face. Don’t show off. Don’t try to be funny. Don’t try to be clever. Don’t behave eccentrically. Measure ads by salesmen’s standards, not by amusement standards.”

Who is David Ogilvy? Many, including this reader, proclaim him as their main inspiration for entering the advertising field. Why? There are three reasons: 1) Ogilvy’s working philosophy was not the 1960s smoke-filled business pitch as seen in AMC’s Mad Men. He always professed to “sell” the product through detailed feature descriptions and speaking directly to his audience. 2) He interacted and had meaningful relationships with so many assorted major thinkers of the twentieth century that these experiences could be distilled into a damn good film on their own right. 3) The subject of this biography lived nearly 30 years of his life in one of the oldest châteaux in France, Touffou.

David Ogilvy was larger than life and his mixed heritage only accounts for part of his eccentricities. Born on June 23, 1911 in England to a Scottish father and an Irish mother, Ogilvy would eventually attend Oxford on scholarship before eventually dropping out to work numerous jobs in Paris. Finally settling down as a waiter at the elusive Hotel Majestic, Ogilvy learned the art of presentation and preparation. When his successful brother ordered him back to England to help him sell Aga Cooker Stoves. Ogilvy offered free cooking lessons to all housewives who allowed him to demonstrate the stove’s features at their home. He was an instant hit and turned the product into an exclusive status symbol almost overnight in England. Even the Queen wanted one.

Widely considered the most famous automotive ad of all time and Ogilvy's best. The ad was so successful for Rolls-Royce "they don't dare run the ad again for fear of running completely out of stock."

Throughout his career, Ogilvy became known as the odd man out in the world of American advertising when he moved to New York City and opened a small shop. Before Ogilvy, British advertising borrowed heavily from whatever sold in America. Ogilvy’s work consistently proved that the consumer was smart and should be treated as such. He was also one of the first to hire a multi-racial staff. He was also one of the first to decry advertising awards as “distracting” and offered monetary awards to his staff for sales generated over “creativity.”

The man in the Hathaway shirt. His famous eye patch helped to sell more shirts in the ad's initial run than were available.

Kenneth Roman, the former chair and CEO of Ogilvy & Mather (pronounced May-ther), Ogilvy’s ad firm, has created a startling case for his former boss. Ogilvy was a dynamic creature that never held back in expressing his colorful opinions. Ogilvy would tell that you he is only remembered because he “outlived his betters.” Ogilvy is remembered because he was so productive even until his death. He never quite left the public eye or stopped writing.

Early ad for the Aga Cooker featuring Edouard Manet's Luncheon on the Grass. Both were considered controversial when they were first released.

Ogilvy wrote two autobiographies during his lifetime but it is Roman’s that offers the Ogilvy we cherish. There are many parts of Ogilvy’s philosophy that I disagree with, but it is hard to criticize a person that placed as much value on research as he did. Almost nobody bested Ogilvy in any argument and he was self-aware of his genius. Perhaps that is his most admirable quality.

One of Ogilvy's most famous quotes with the Russian dolls that inspired it.

If you are going to read any book on advertising, it should be Ogilvy’s Confessions of an Advertising Man. If you want to read a biography on the man who helped to form much of our contemporary view of core principals of brand image this is your book. Roman was in the best position as a friend and co-worker for so many years to write Ogilvy’s “second opinion” biography. The book is worth a read if only to check out his teen years and the section detailing Ogilvy’s involvement with the OSS during WWII.

Hiroshima by John Hersey

2009-07-12T21:27:00.006-04:00

“In a city of two hundred and forty-five thousand, nearly a hundred thousand people had been killed or doomed at one blow; a hundred thousand more were hurt. At least ten thousand of the wounded made their way to the best hospital in town, which was altogether unequal to such a trampling, since it had only six hundred beds, and they had all been occupied. The people in the suffocating crowd inside the hospital wept and cried, for Dr. Sasaki to hear, “Sensei, Doctor!,” and the less seriously wounded came and pulled at his sleeve and begged him to go to the aid of the worse wounded. Tugged here and there in his stockinged feet, bewildered by the numbers, staggered by so much raw flesh, Dr. Sasaki lost all sense of profession and stopped working as a skillful surgeon and a sympathetic man; he became an automaton, mechanically wiping, daubing, winding, wiping, daubing, winding.”

John Hersey may be remembered as one of the forerunners to the New Journalism movement that swept America during the 1960s and 1970s with magazines such as Esquire, Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair. Fusing elements of storytelling with cold, hard fact created more compelling works in stories that demanded an element of warmth and elaboration. The cover of my 1989 edition of Hersey’s Hiroshima (1946) boldly states, “Everyone able to read should read it – Saturday Review of Literature.” Frankly, I was sold at the word Hiroshima. It was when I brought the book home and my dad told me how it was required reading at his high school that fully sold me. This book should still be required reading alongside Esther Hautzig’s The Endless Steppe.

The book follows the day the atomic age began on August 6, 1945 through the personal accounts of six different citizens of Hiroshima that survived the blast. These six accounts included (as recounted from the book’s inner jacket):

Miss Toshinki Sasaki, a clerk in the personnel department of the East Asia Tin Works, had just turned her head to chat with the girl at the next desk.

Dr. Masakazu Fujii, a physician, had just sat down to read the paper on the porch of his private hospital.

Mrs. Hatsuyo Nakamura, a tailor’s widow, was watching a neighbor from her kitchen window.

Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge, a German priest, lay on a cot in the mission house reading a Jesuit magazine.

Dr. Terufumi Sasaki, a young surgeon, walked along a hospital corridor with a blood specimen for a Wasserman test.

The Reverend Mr. Kiyoshi Tanimoto, pastor of the Hiroshima Methodist Church, was about to unload a cart of clothes at a rich man’s home in the suburbs.

Hersey went to great pains to paint an accurate picture of the horrific events leading directly up to and the days following the explosion over Hiroshima. The Japanese are reclusive when it comes to documenting horrible memories and we should commend the author for getting honest accounts that do not seem doctored or censored. There is no shortage of passages that caused me to grimace or make exclamations aloud.

I read the updated version from the 1980s that includes an extra chapter that details each of the six respondents’ lives in the years following Japan’s recovery. Hersey’s exhausting quest for the truth is not lost in time and the new section fits well with the original text. There are some books in life we are instructed to read no matter what your preference for books is. They might be Huckleberry Finn or Night or even All Quiet on the Western Front. Hiroshima certainly fits into this category. Whether you are knowledgeable about the aftermath of the only atomic weapons used in war or you want to know a bit more from the Japanese perspective this book is for you.

The Breast by Philip Roth

2009-07-07T01:46:00.002-04:00

I am a breast. A phenomenon . . . took place within my body . . . and converted me into a mammary gland disconnected from my human form.

Yes, it is true, the main character in this book transforms overnight from a healthy middle-aged man into a 155-pound breast, complete with a 6-inch nipple and all. I picked this up at a secondhand bookshop for a few bucks and it was well worth it. It’s only about 100 pages and can be read entirely on a Sunday afternoon, but in that time Roth, à la Gogol (The Nose) and Kafka (The Metamorphosis) describes what life would be like as a very popular part of the female body. I shouldn’t say much on this book because it is so short and should simply be read instead of any review on it, but I will say that Roth does not hold anything back in his prose. After reading this and American Pastoral and about Portnoy’s Complaint (in which the main character, at one point, masturbates into the core of an apple), I can safely say that there seems to be no subject that embarrasses him as an author. And though at times it seems he may be going out-of-bounds, I don’t think he would put it in unless it was important and part of the story. He has an uncensored mind, but for those who can stand it, the rewards are vast.

The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

2009-07-07T01:39:00.003-04:00

I was a bit more excited coming into this book than I should have been; this probably due to finally watching The Fellowship of the Ring movie and really liking it. So I was pretty engrossed in the story at that point. But then I started reading The Two Towers. And it’s no secret that I wasn’t much for Tolkien’s very descriptive way of writing. Personally, it’s a problem of idea and execution. Not to say that Tolkien did not execute the story of the ring well—certainly history speaks volumes that he did—but that I just don’t really get into orcs and wizardry when it comes to reading 300 (and eventually 1000) pages on them. I think it all sounds fascinating, especially considering the fact that Tolkien was so meticulous in his creation of Middle-earth, but I caught myself constantly losing myself in the text. So as much as I want to like these books, I cannot bring myself to; while Jon, on the other hand, stands just two feet away from me, yet on the other side of the fence, saying that though he wasn’t enthused by LOTR, he cannot bring himself to say that he didn’t like them.

But for me, I think it’s the classic breakup excuse of, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Though when most people say this they are usually lying, I think it may be true in my case. I read in an article recently that fantasy, right behind romance, is the second-best selling genre these days. And that fact is hard to ignore in this age when a love-seeking vampire (Twilight), convertible machinery (Transformers), and fledgling wizard (Harry Potter) are main characters in very popular books and box office rockers. But what book has done more for its genre than LOTR has done for fantasy? I may not be qualified to make that claim but it seems that the answer would be no other book. Naturally, LOTR is the best place to crack that genre and I have found that it is not for me. I think I have found my niche in literary fiction.

But what is there to say specifically about The Two Towers? For starters, I missed the not so polite banter between Gimli and Legolas that was in The Fellowship. In this book they are much closer and more like brothers then enemies. Also, Gandalf confirmed himself as the biggest A-hole wizard in both Middle-earth and our own earth (though no wizards I know). His quick temper actually kinda pissed me off in some parts, I’m not gonna lie.

I watched the movie a few days ago for the first time and really liked it. I think it smartly condensed the history to simply the bare necessities and was easier to follow. It omitted some parts but on the whole was a fairly faithful adaptation. One very noteworthy omission, though (and I’m curious if anybody else caught this), was the end because in the book, Frodo and Sam are lead by Gollum into the spider’s cave where stuff happens and Sam falsely thinks Frodo is dead. Frodo’s body is picked up by orcs and Sam uses the ring to escape them. This, I thought was a good cliffhanger to lure the reader into the third part but it was left out of the movie so I guess it will be shown in the next. Anyway, I thought the dialogue in the movie was absolutely brilliant. All in all, the movies so far have really pulled me in while the books have loosed me.

In conclusion, I am content to deduce my problem with this book simply as one of a lack of interest on my part, but, to be sure, the minute details Tolkien insists the reader know don’t help much. Though his imagination, I can’t help but admire.

The Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway

2009-06-28T07:59:00.002-04:00

I promise that the timing of this post is not intended in any way to contradict Zach. The fact that I have just finished this book and loved it is purely coincidental. The only gripe I have is with whoever proof-read this edition. Typos are not only present, but inexcusably pervasive. I think I'll write a letter to Scribner. Anyway, that has nothing to do with the actual content. Let's move on. On the back of the book (which is the first forty-nine stories, not the "complete" stories--I guess there are a few more since this book first came out in 1938 and Hemingway died in 1961), there is a quote from a review in the New Yorker by Clifton Fadiman, which says: "I don't see how you can go through this book without being convinced that Hemingway is the best short story writer...using English." That pretty much sums it up. I don't really know what to say that hasn't been said before. These stories are wonderful. Some aren't as good as others, but just about all of them are good, probably about 38 of them are very good, and at least a dozen are masterpieces. Some of my favories, off the top of my head, are Fifty Grand, The Killers, The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber, Up in Michigan, Indian Camp, My Old Man, Wine of Wyoming, Fathers and Sons, A Pursuit Race, The Gambler, the Nun, and the Radio, Ten Indians, The Three-Day Blow, Today is Friday, The End of Something, and of course Hills Like White Elephants. Ezra Pound called Hemingway "the finest prose stylist in the world." Of course Pound was always biased toward brevity, but I think he may have been right.

A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

2009-06-23T01:56:00.002-04:00

Maybe I just have too high expectations. Maybe I just need to only read coverless books and wait till I’ve finished before discovering the author. Whatever is wrong with me, I have yet to experience Hemingway the way most people have, which is to say I haven’t loved his books. But hear me out. The Sun Also Rises—sweet characters centered on the narrator who is pretty plain, but nothing wrong with that. But they weren’t interesting enough to where they could do whatever they want and I would just happily follow them around carelessly. So the problem was I wasn’t sure what the conflict was as they traveled from place to place. Also, I can’t remember the girl’s name but she was really annoying. The Old Man and the Sea—readable for sure, and I’ve grown to like it more and more but I just don’t see where the genius is (ok, that’s probably my fault). I wanted to have more concern for whether he caught the fish or not but it wasn’t there and I couldn’t force it. I was really looking forward to reading A Farewell to Arms, especially after I presumed, and then argued, that it should have easily been ranked higher than Catch-22 on The List. But my third attempt at Hemingway was again not great. Which stinks because I want to like him so much—the man fascinates me, but his books don’t have the same effect.
But first, I want to say what I did like about this book. The dialogue is sick. The conversations in this book flow without flaw and it seems that when Hemingway was writing that he knew exactly what his characters would say next without his having to force words into their mouths. The man knows dialogue and in the short story, Hills like White Elephants, the dialogue does not get any better or meaningful. (I actually did really like that short story of his.)
But, like the complaint with the last book I read, I couldn’t care less about what happens to the characters. They are completely stupid and the two people closest to the main character, his girlfriend/babymama and his roommate, are the worst. They are absolutely obnoxious. The roommate, Rinaldio(?), is overly obsequious towards Tenete and calls him baby almost every other sentence. So not only is reading their interactions exasperating, it makes you feel like you’re peeping in on a Schmitt’s Gay beer commercial. Also, the nature of Tenete and Catherine’s relationship makes me want to throw up. You know those couples that can’t stop looking at each other and kiss every 2 seconds and ask questions like, “If I was thrown into a 4,000 degree fire without any firefighters around and was burned beyond recognition, would you still love me?” to which the answer is always yes? They’re kind of like that except smarter and can use richer and more poetic language but to me at least it was equally annoying. I also understand that this could have been the point to these characters but the ends don’t justify the means.
I’m not giving up on ol’ Ernie yet though. I want to read more of his short stories and perhaps if I enjoy them then eventually his novels will follow.

So this concludes war novel month for me and, regrettably, only one book truly stood out while the other three were only merely enjoyable, or almost that. Final rankings:

1. All Quiet on the Western Front
2. Going After Cacciato
3. (tie) Catch-22 and A Farewell to Arms

Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien

2009-06-23T01:45:00.002-04:00

Philip Roth is widely regarded as America’s best living writer, or at least one that’s actually publishing (coughSalingercough… tear). And after reading American Pastoral, I can certainly see why. But it was Tim O’Brien whom Joseph Heller, before he died, hailed as the best. (Perhaps there was some war genre bias going on, but nonetheless…) I read The Things They Carried (the book, not just the short story) earlier this year and thought it was great. A good piece of writing advice is to write about something you know and from that book you could tell O’Brien knows war. He lived it and breathed it in Vietnam so there is all this emotion and intimacy couched in his writing and reading him is actually pretty moving. The problem with Going After Cacciato though, despite its front, is that it’s not really a war novel. At least not in my opinion. I mean it starts off being in war but soon a small group of guys and their lieutenant take leave from the war to bring back one of their comrades, Cacciato, who has illegally fled the war to go to Paris. From there, the book is more about their journey to Paris and the interesting characters they meet along the way. The general outline actually reminded me a lot of The Sun Also Rises. The level of O’Brien writing that I found in The Things was still there but with a lacking plot, it was the only thing carrying this book.
The first chapter is actually really really sweet and with conviction I think it was originally a complete short story. In my opinion, it could easily be read as one—a very good one, I’ll say again. However, I think, and I may very well be wrong, that O’Brien tried to take this great story and continue to add 300-odd pages to it, which has to be a hard thing to do once you’ve completed a story that was only meant to be 15. Ergo, in the end, I found that I didn’t really care what happened to Cacciato and what they would do after they found him. Good prose, not so good plot. PWOAT.

All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque

2009-06-12T17:12:00.002-04:00

He looks ghastly, yellow and wan. In his face there are already the strained lines that we know so well, we have seen them now hundreds of times. They are not so much lines as marks. Under the skin the life no longer pulses, it has already pressed out the boundaries of the body. Death is working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich… He it is still and yet it is not he any longer.

Continuing my literary assault on war books, I chose to read the purported greatest war novel of all time, All Quiet on the Western Front. I read it in a couple days and still all the while damning my inability to read faster because I wanted to soak up more and more of its goodness. I wish Remarque had written more. But therein lies the beauty of this story—its compactness. The writing is taut as hell and the short, declarative sentences that are much more matter of fact than ornate is what, to me, makes this book stand alone.

I think, like most people, I read this in high school because as I was reading, most of the scenes seemed familiar. I didn’t realize I had read it before until I was in the meat of it, but no matter—this book can be and should be read again and again. However, doing so may lead you to commit seppuku because it’s pretty grim and depressing stuff. But that would be a forgivable act because this book is worth it. If I (sorry, when I…) commit seppuku I think I will do it with this book in my hand. Wow, what a tangent. Anyway, you can tell that the content matter is of deep, deep concern to the author because he writes in such a sensitive yet sure and confident way. The emotion that he is able to evoke by using raw language, without extra details or flowery words, is amazing. It al seems so real, which I think is kinda the goal of war writing—to put a reader, who may or may not have been a soldier, in the trenches. But this book goes beyond blood and hand grenades. It has lighter moments where the comrades sneak out at night to see some French girls. They arrive at their doorstep wearing nothing but their boots because they had to swim part of the way.

What’s really great about this book is how it doesn’t look to expose how savage we become during war; rather, it looks at how war personally affects us, and leads us to consider some hard situations. For instance, the main character, Paul, has lost one of his good friends and he feels a moral obligation to write to his friend’s mother, whom he does not know, to tell her about her son. What are you supposed to write in that letter? How could you write anything at all? In another instance, Paul is behind enemy lines, inside a small crater filled with water. There is too much gunfire happening around him, so he must lie inside the crater, pretend to be dead, and wait. He decides that if anybody gets in the crater with him, he will not take any chances and go for the throat. When a feeble, though alive, body lands beside him, his first instinct is to shove the man’s mouth with dirt, but he cannot. Common humanity prevails and Paul is led to comfort this ailing man, no matter what side he be on.

The text is alive in this book. If stuff like this doesn’t move you then you should just go ahead and commit seppuku. (If there’s one thing we can conclude from this rambling of a book review it is this: you should commit seppuku whether you read this book or not.) If there’s any book campaigning against the war then I think creating poignant, realistic moments like these is the most effective way. Catch-22’s approach to showing the futility of war was humor, but this approach seemed so much more detached from the subject matter. All Quiet, on the other hand, can really draw you in. Its characters aren’t exactly memorable but there are issues they have to face—issues that are personally affecting that are unique to the war—that are incredibly moving. I don’t know how to fault this book.

I’ll end on one of my favorite passages that has real sweet imagery:

One morning two butterflies play in front of our trench. They are brimstone-butterflies, with red spots on their yellow wings. What can they be looking for here? There is not a plant nor a flower for miles. They settle on the teeth of a skull. The birds too are just as carefree, they have long since accustomed themselves to the war. Every morning larks ascend from No Man’s Land. A year ago we watched them nesting; the young ones grew up too.

South Of The Border, West Of The Sun by Haruki Murakami

2009-06-09T22:17:00.002-04:00

In Haruki Murakami’s South Of The Border, West Of The Sun, the narrator, Hajime, tells the story of his mostly failed relationships with women starting from the time he was in middle school. By the time he’s reached middle age, he has all the good things in life: a loving wife, two daughters, a second home in the mountains, and a couple bars that he owns and operates. But just as everything is going ever so smoothly, the girl he became the best of friends with in middle school and even loved (although he didn’t realize it at the time) suddenly comes back into his life. This event turns Hajime’s world upside down and he’s faced with the prospect of leaving his comfortable life for the woman he always loved.

Murakami writes in a startlingly realistic style. Although it didn’t hit me right at the outset of the novel, I remember that at about halfway through I realized just how intensely life-like the text is. This may seem strange and I admit that the sensation is hard to explain. The best way I can describe it is that, at times, I felt like I was actually living in the novel itself. I think there’s a certain precision in the words and sentences Murakami uses that creates this experience. Another way to put it is that it’s kind of like the feeling I used to get after listening to Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I remember whenever I would finish listening to it I always felt like every single note, every sound on the album, was just right and could not have been any other way. With South Of The Border, it’s the same thing. And when it comes to failed relationships, this book nails it. For me, Marukami’s novel captures everything about what it’s like when things between couples go sour, which may or may not sound good to you but I enjoyed it for some reason.

And so I conclude: two thumbs, up.

By the way, for any of you Salingerphiles out there, you may want to check out this article:

http://www.slate.com/id/2219768/pagenum/all

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

2009-06-06T18:11:00.004-04:00

‘Racial prejudice is a terrible thing, Yossarian. It really is. It’s a terrible thing to treat a decent, loyal Indian like a nigger, kike, wop or spic.’ Chief White Halfoat nodded slowly with conviction.

This humorous quote is a perfect microcosm of Catch-22 and using it as an archetype, I can explain the entire book. If you have any whisper of a humor, you’ll find it funny. This is in part because it so directly and crudely contradicts itself. Contradictions, intentional ones, are packed into every cranny of every page, which should be unsurprising because catch-22’s are basically situations where outcomes contradict efforts (e.g. An insane person isn’t allowed to fly a plane but if you file for insanity that proves your sanity). It is catch-22 scenes like this that are stitched together to make this book basically plotless (there is without a doubt no climax), which is not necessarily a bad thing. Heller trapezes from different points in time, focusing on different characters and sometimes their perspectives on a situation that has already been experienced by another character. And when good writing employs something like this and is funny and uses black comedy and has such eccentric characters who contradict themselves and a plot that is barely perceivable then that makes the book pretty subversive. Which is exactly why I think it is seen as so brilliant and why it garnered a number seven spot on the Modern Library’s 100 Best Novels of the 20th Century list. Mind you, that is only two platforms below my beloved Lolita. But Catch-22 is not that genius. Notice I said good writing a couple sentences previous and not great writing. However, this is also not to say that Heller is not a great writer. I think he strained so hard to create these eccentric characters and ridiculous situations that his writing did not flow freely and naturally; consequently, it seems forced. On the other hand, there is distinctly different prose in certain paragraphs where he is writing seriously, without trying to be funny, and it comes off as beautiful, effortless writing. I really enjoyed these passages, though sparse, throughout the book and if you ever read this book I think they will definitely stand out. But as I said before, I think he was trying too hard to be funny (but he was successful at this!) and as a result good prose was forsaken. What was really annoying was the constant use of superfluous adverbs. It seemed like he was going out of his way to use big words to describe an action. Rarely would somebody say something without an unnecessarily large word describing how that person said it. But I’m more of a he said she said kind of guy and not a he vociferated she iterated kind of guy.

But that’s enough negativity. I did enjoy this book. I thought it funny but did not see its brilliance. Let’s talk more about the Modern Library. I would argue that Catch-22 is good the same way a Stephen King novel is good, however different they may be. Stephen King is extremely well-known and his books are loved and many have been turned into movies (The Shining, Carrie, The Green Mile, Shawshank Redemption, etc.) But would you call him brilliant? I mean, the guy’s swimming in his own money so his books have to be somewhat good, but not one of them cracked the list and there was no backlash against this. I kinda see Catch-22 in the same light. It’s certainly good and a page-turner for most people, but I can’t fathom how its prose drops jaws the same way Lolita or The Great Gatsby does. As I mentioned earlier, it is only in those rarely seen paragraphs where Heller just seems to be writing, not trying to be funny or continue his onslaught of catch-22 situations, that he shows he’s worthy of discussion in the top 100. Let me repeat, this book is at number seven on a list which a Hemingway novel didn’t crack the top 40 (to my memory.). This is what keeps me up at night. I can fathom how Catch-22, as its cover claims, is a “classic bestseller” but should this 25-vaudeville-acts-stitched-together of a book really be considered a great literary achievement? Somebody throw Hemingway a friggin’ bone here.

With this book, war novel month has begun. This should be especially interesting because I just realized I’m going to be reading A Farewell to Arms.

One last thing... If you ever read Sideways Stories of Wayside School when you were little then Catch-22 is a lot like the grown-up version of that in how each chapter in both books focus on different completely eccentric characters in absolutely ridiculously situations. This is an amusing comparison.

American Pastoral by Philip Roth

2009-05-26T02:35:00.003-04:00

This is the silking, that’s a story in itself, but this is what she’s going to do first. . . . This is called a pique machine, it sews the finest stitch, called pique, requires far more skill than the other stitches. . . . This is called a polishing machine and that is called a stretcher and you are called honey and I am called Daddy and this is called living and the other is called dying and this is called madness and this is called mourning and this is called hell, pure hell, and you have to have strong ties to be able to stick it out, this is called trying-to go-on-as-though-nothing-has-happened and this is called paying-the-full-price-but-in-God’s-name-for-what, this is called wanting-to-be-dead-and-wanting-to-find-her-and-to-kill-her-and-to-save-her-from-whatever-she-is-going-through-wherever-on-earth-she-may-be-at-this-moment, this unbridled outpouring is called blotting-out-everything and it does not work, I am half insane, the shattering force of that bomb is too great. . . . And then they were back at his office again…

The quote above comes from the golden lips of Swede Levov and I think it is easy to see why it is worth reproducing in full. Roth’s story of Levov (“rhymes with love”) is my favorite novel I’ve read since The Road last summer. (For the record, I’m not treating Franny and Zooey as a novel. If I was, I don’t know what I’d do. Also, Moby Dick was the more incredible work but this was a much better read if that makes sense—it didn’t contain all that taxing, florid 19th century wording.) I cannot be clearer: American Pastoral is very very good.

The story of hometown legend, Swede Levov, begins at the end. The first section is actually from the perspective of Levov’s younger brother’s childhood best friend, Skip, who is recalling growing up with the Swede—“a magical name in our Newark neighborhood”. We learn that the gods have heavily favored the Swede as he excels at everything he touches. He’s a 6’3 handsome Jew. He’s captain of the basketball team, the football team, and the baseball team. He can’t keep the ladies off him. He’s everything we think about when we think of the perfect childhood. Then he grows up. Passes up the Big Leagues to take over his dad’s pride and joy--his glove factory in the heart of Newark. Marries Miss New Jersey. Has a lovely daughter named Merry. The idealized American life complete.

After this character development, the story then switches from the narrative of Skip to a third-person account of the Swede. Merry has grown up and along with a stutter has developed a very passionate political opinion. As most daughters are wont to do, she eventually turns away from her father, Swede, and begins taking a serious interest in the war. One day her activism mushrooms into a savage act of terrorism. Overnight, Swede is taken out of his coveted pastoral and is forced to reconcile this event with his hitherto flawless life.

But the beauty of the plot is not just in what it is but how it is laid out. Roth is very sneaky as he constantly switches between different time periods and characters’ point of view. One moment you’re inside the argument of Swede and Merry and the next sentence you’re with Merry in the cradle. Many out-of-order events are stitched together and some seem like tangential ramblings but yet they are so focused on the main point. Roth crafts a beautiful portrait of the perfect life inside and out that has to be constantly reconciled with Merry’s terrorist act. It’s a constant struggle between the before and after of this event—the moment everything fell apart for Swede--and it’s this kind of storytelling—the shifting of times and development of outside characters—that is perfect for this book. It’s beautiful. Reading this gives you a sense that the pastoral life doesn’t exist. It can’t. Perhaps what Roth set out to do with this book is show that even the most seemingly perfect life can dissolve with one event. And the last two sentences in the form of questions are incredible and incredibly important. I won’t spoil them here but it’s as if Roth looks back at his somewhat depressing story and comments in a sanguine way. It's so good and the best way to punctuate the story as a whole. My one scruple is that Roth lays out some stuff in the beginning of the book that actually happen after everything else but he never shows how Swede gets to that point. It’s inconsequential, really, and beside the main plot but sometimes my curiosity is endless.

What I like so much about this book is the complete devotion to character psychology. We see over and over the mind of Swede who doesn’t seem to work hard for his life and that it’s more or less how the cards fell. His thoughts seem so real to a person like that. The other characters are also wonderfully crafted and each have their perfect piece in Swede’s life. As Swede’s life falls apart, his patience capitulates and his “why did this have to happen?” conscious takes over. It’s incredible prose and Roth unleashes his huge veteran author lexicon in this book.

The final two things I will say is that the other Pulitzer Prize-winning book I read this year, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, is very similar to this book and I can’t help but think that it was a direct inspiration. The Brief tells of the hapless life of Oscar and goes through many generations from many different perspectives to explain why his life sucks. Both books employ personal perspectives of characters surrounding the main character and the event-to-event time difference can be 50 years. The plots are also both focused on the best or the worst ways of life—for Swede, it’s completely awesome (for a while) and for Oscar, it’s cursed by fuku. Finally, I think this book would make an excellent movie. It couldn’t touch the book but if the screenplay followed the same path with flashbacks and all then I think it would be very good. And it goes without saying that after Roth reads this book review he will be so impressed by my analysis that he will instantly ask me to play the young version of Swede. Who wants to be in my entourage? (Sorry, I can only bring 2 friends and T-Pain is one of them.)

Cathedral by Raymond Carver

2009-05-21T20:52:00.015-04:00

She worked with this blind man all summer. She read stuff to him, case studies, reports, that sort of thing. She helped him organize his little office in the county social-service department. They’d become good friends, my wife and the blind man. On her last day in the office, the blind man asked if he could touch her face. She agreed to this. She told me he touched his fingers to every part of her face, her nose—even her neck! She never forgot it. She even tried to write a poem about it. She was always trying to write a poem. She wrote a poem or two every year, usually after something really important had happened to her.

What's so great about Carver is that he makes it look easy. Like Salinger in The Catcher in the Rye (though not so much in most of his other works) and Hemingway (Carver is considered by many to be his successor), he makes the reader feel smarter than the writer. That is to say, you think that you understand what's happening in the story better than Carver himself does. I tend to think this is a good thing.
Carver is a legend, especially among would-be writers and writing teachers. The reason for this is clear. To read a Carver story is not only to experience something great, but to receive a lesson in how to write something great. Reading, say, Nabokov or Faulkner, is absolutely worth the price, but I would argue that they can sometimes be negative influences on someone trying to learn how to write. Their styles are so unique and all-around high that a new writer finds himself striving for things that he simply is not ready to do.
I don't mean to say that you can read a Carver story and then immediately write a Carver story. And I certainly don't mean to say that he's any less of a writer than those that write in high style. I simply mean to say that Carver's stories are like beautiful post-and-beam construction houses, whereas Nabokov's and Faulkner's are more like mansions in the Hamptons. I think this comparison works in two ways: first, Carver's stories are more rustic than the others' though no less beautiful. But perhaps more importantly, in a post-and-beam construction house, you can see the construction of the house even as you are living in it. It doesn't mean you can just up and build one. But it does mean that you can get some inkling of how to build one just by being inside it.
Anyway, in this particular collection (the only one of Carver's I've read in whole, though I have read a few others of his stories), Carver seems to be pushing for something bigger than before, perhaps gearing up to write a novel (which he never did). In his earlier collections, the stories are usually about 6-10 pages, whereas here most are around twenty or so. I have heard some people say they prefer the earlier stories, but I haven't read enough of them to speak to that.
I can say, however, that Cathedral is a great collection. Carver loves to write about the everyday. There is very little here that would seem all that notable in the real world. But the sequencing and point of view that Carver uses in each of them gives them great meaning, often poignancy. I think I would agree with most people that the title story, in which a blind friend of the narrator's wife comes over and they watch TV together (think about it for a second), is the best of the collection. In fact, it is one of my favorite short stories ever, an opinion I share with quite a few people. But I'm surprised to say that "A Small, Good Thing" is a fairly close second for me. But all of the stories here are better than most writers will ever produce. Essential reading. Even if, for some reason, you don't want to read the whole collection, (to quote the godfather himself) do yourself a frickin' service and read "Cathedral" (http://www.ndsu.nodak.edu/instruct/cinichol/GovSchool/Cathedral2.htm) and "A Small, Good Thing" (http://wings.buffalo.edu/AandL/english/courses/eng201d/asmallgoodthing.html).

Stay Close by Libby Cataldi

2009-05-20T01:45:00.003-04:00

"My son is in jail, Miami-Dade County jail. He faces a felony charge for heroin possession and a misdemeanor charge for possession of drug paraphernalia. This isn’t the first time he is in jail; maybe it won’t be the last. Addiction invaded our home in 1991. It slithered in and sat down at our dining room table, grew large and fat, fed on our misery, laughing, mocking us with its power. It claimed Jeff when he was a fourteen-year-old boy. I did everything I could think of to save my son, but in the end I could do nothing, not really, to extricate him or to free our family from addiction’s claw. If you love or care about an addict, you know this feeling of helplessness.”

“Stagli vicino [stay close in Italian].” Libby Cataldi confronts demons in Stay Close, her deeply personal account of her battle and frustrations with her son’s fourteen-year-addiction to heroin, alcohol, meth and other drugs. The book’s title is taken from advice the author received while staying in Italy. The director of a recovery community in San Patrignano explained that those affected by addiction should never sever their bonds of love with the addict – instead they should move in closer to give the support necessary for recovery.

Cataldi’s journey with her son’s addiction began when he was a child growing up in Calvert County, Maryland. Jeff, Libby eldest son, has always been adept at social networking. When skateboarding and alternative music took off during the late ‘80s-early ‘90s it was all Cataldi could do keep her son in the same neighborhood. After numerous incidents of getting caught with animal tranquilizers, Jeff began his double life. In some ways he was a normal teenager who went off to boarding school and loved his younger brother, Jeremy. In other respects he was a full-time partygoer who would stay up all weekend to go to raves and use drugs.

Jeff’s personal journey with drugs is not the main focus of the story; instead Libby offers a rare perspective of a betrayed mother. Her journal entries expand upon Jeff’s story with his personal account of certain events added for clarification and atonement.

The unflinchingly personal details of the story lay bare the inner workings of a mother who worked within the Maryland school system for thirty years, yet struggled to reign in her own son. The pressures and experiences mount until the final chapters when I found myself struggling to still love Jeff. The idea that his battle with drugs cost his family hundreds of thousands of dollars blows my mind. My own mother explained that if I were in Jeff’s shoes she would not have put up with me after I walked out of a couple rehabilitation clinics.

If there was one area I wish the book expanded on it was Jeff’s final rehabilitation. The final two chapters deemphasize the most pivotal decision in Jeff’s life. I was left with more than a few questions as to how Jeff changed and what he is up to now. While this was not a deal breaker it does leave the reader begging for more insight into the moment when an addict decides to turn the ship around.

Cataldi’s writing reveals the years of deceit and lies that made up her life. The inner turmoil that addiction brings is in full force here. It is said that for every one addict four other non-addicts are affected. Jeff painstaking worked with his mother to write this story, yet it is ultimately his mother’s to tell. If you have ever lost someone to addiction Cataldi’s story offers clues for coping. Fortunately, I have never developed any sort of substance addiction, but I feel like I am better prepared for the future having read Stay Close.

My Rating: 3.5/5

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

2009-05-19T03:08:00.006-04:00

Never before a watcher of The Lord of the Rings movies, I felt guilty of that title being in New Zealand, where, as you may know, the trilogy was shot. But first my predilection of reading the book before the movie had to be appeased. And, alas! now that I have both read and watched The Fellowship of the Ring, I must, for the first time ever, admit that I liked the movie better than the book.

After doing a little research on the series in New Zealand, it is by far the most popular book and movie in this country. The book appeared at the top of NZ readers’ 100 favorite books of all time. Also, at the small, local library that didn’t contain a single Nabokov novel, I found many different editions of LOTR: a few tomes containing the whole trilogy and also multiple books of each individual story.

Many Christians could be forgiven for not ever reading the entire Bible, but the same could not be said of true fantasy fans and this book. I’ve never really gotten into much fantasy but the genius of Tolkien can easily be seen in this book. The writing is top-notch, and for this genre, I think it is the standard. The fact that Tolkien was so engrossed in every facet of this make-believe world is what sets it apart. The intricately detailed maps, development of languages, and creation of poetic songs are all part of the story and it’s easy to see why the trilogy has risen to such popularity.

In this book, set up by The Hobbit, Frodo, a small hobbit is tapped by Gandalf to carry the one omnipotent ring that rules all rings into the dark lands of Mordor, where the ring was created and now must be destroyed in order to restore tranquility. After escaping a few hiccups on the first leg of his journey, Frodo meets with representatives of other races—the elves, dwarves, men—who commit to help Frodo take the ring to Mount Doom. The story is mostly linear—a little bit of travel, some turmoil, turmoil assuage, travel again. Not many plot twists or truly exciting parts. Despite the fine writing, I found myself constantly drifting away from the text. Descriptions of landscapes and back-stories are described down to the minutest detail and are incessant throughout the book. Unfortunately, only a few times was I completely gripped by the story. This book, which may be indicative of the entire genre for me, was a trying experience.

On the other hand, the movie conveyed the story very well. Whereas many movie adaptations tend to dilute the original story, I thought this was a particularly strong production that concentrated the story. Although it is incredible that an entire lore of Middle Earth was created, I think a reader has to be actually fascinated by the lineages and histories to love the books; whereas the movie highlights the major points of the plot and smartly skips the finer points. In the end, the movie made me appreciate the book twofold and made me more interested in how the rest of the story will play out. And as I wake up each day with Mt Hutt on the horizon, I surely must be the last person in NZ to not know how it ends.

Additional: The cover picture I included is an actual photo of the ridiculously sweet 1967 edition of the series that I nabbed off ebay.

Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower

2009-05-12T23:26:00.003-04:00

It is nearly one o’clock, the hour that your mother comes home for lunch. You do not want to be alone in the house with your stepfather. It still angers you that he has sent you down the driveway on your sick day, your special day of rest. You take a dozen steps, and then a plan suggests itself. Very carefully, you litter the mail in a haphazard fan on the driveway gravel so that it looks as though it were dumped there suddenly. You ease yourself down into a tire rut, splaying your arms and legs in the attitude of someone stricken by a fainting spell. When your mother’s car swings into the drive, she will find you there. She may have to stand on the brakes to keep from running you over, but you are far enough up the driveway that you don’t think she could hit you by mistake. She’ll come to you crying and concerned. You’ll let her coax it out of you, the story of how your stepfather made you get the mail.

Above is an excerpt from the story "Leopard", a story unique in Tower's collection of short stories, being the only one in second person. But there is something here that runs throughout the book: a desperation in each of the protagonists to make something happen for him or herself. They all find themselves desperate enough for a change of some sort that they are willing to do things that are often harmful to themselves. The protagonist in "Leopard" is so angry at his stepfather that he is willing to put his life in danger to make a point. Another protagonist runs away to become a carnie. Another allows a much older man to kiss her just to shun her condescending cousin. There is a sort of very human desperation in all of these characters. And these desperations, at least as far as I'm concerned, all ring true.
Another strain related to this desperation running through the stories is violence. This is most apparent in the title story, which is about a group of vikings who go pillaging under the pretext of revenge when really it's because some of them are bored. In fact, this is a perfect blend of the desperation and the violence found throughout. (One of the most gory and fascinating things I've ever read happens in this story--I won't ruin it).
Finally, the writing itself in these stories is just first-rate. Tower has some metaphors and similes that are just astounding, and often equal parts hilarious and disturbing (see the description of the baby bird in "Wild America"). The man has a large vocabulary and he knows how to use it. I would say that while the content of his stories in this collection call to mind Hemingway and Carver, the prose seems akin to the late great John Updike. A very restrained Updike. While Updike would unleash a beautiful description of a smell or an idea, allowing it to go on in paragraph long sentences, Tower keeps it compact. But the rhythms and syntax remind me of Updike. This is Tower's first book, but you wouldn't know it by his prose--this is mature stuff.
If you can't tell by the fact that I have called him a sort of combination of Hemingway, Carver, and Updike (I'm certainly not the first to compare him to the first two, but I haven't read anyone comparing him to Updike, which may mean that I'm just wrong), I highly recommend this collection. A few of the stories have I'm-not-exactly-sure-what-to-think endings, but they are never truly unsatisfying. The majority, however, are so transparently yet complexly crafted, that by the time the end of even the first read comes, you know that you've read something special and you wouldn't change a word. Even reviewing this book at all feels superfluous, as there is all sorts of buzz about it in the literary world right now, but I just can't contain it. This book is grade-A stuff.

Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner

2009-05-10T09:18:00.007-04:00

In Freakonomics, the economist Steven Levitt and the reporter Stephen Dubner pair up to co-write a book that explains the true nature of a small series of contemporary topics, ranging from the real-estate industry to the drop in crime-rates of the 90's to the inner workings of the urban crack cocaine market. Through analysis of huge amounts of data, Levitt and Dubner come to some startling conclusions: real-estate agents, on average, do not work as hard as we think they do at getting the best possible price for our houses when we sell them, a large number of public school teachers in Chicago were found to be cheating by physically changing the answers on the test sheets of their students so as to meet the standards set by policies like the No Child Left Behind Act, and perhaps the most controversial one in the book, the drop in crime rates that took place during the 90's is in a large part due to the legalization of abortion enacted by Roe v. Wade in 1973.

If you haven't read the book, this last finding may be particularly confusing, so I'll give a brief overview of the argument. Levitt and Dubner argue that after the legalization of abortion, more women, especially single mothers of low socioeconomic status, had abortions. This led to a significant decrease in the number of children born into the kinds of households that statistically tend to produce more children prone to commit crimes as they grow older. By the time the 90's rolled around, these unborn children would have been in their late teens, which is high-time for people to commit crimes. Thus since there were fewer would-be-criminal teenagers from poor, single-parent households alive during the 90's, Levitt and Dubner conclude that the increase in abortion during the 70's provides a reasonable explanation for the drop in crime that took place two decades later. The co-authors do, however, make sure to state that they do not advocate abortion as any sort of crime-fighting strategy.

They cover several more topics throughout the book, many of which are equally as interesting as the theory on Roe v. Wade's effect on crime in the 90's. Although there is no clear tie from one topic to the next within the book, I think what they all point to is the value of questioning the things you hear from newspapers, TV, people, and any other source from which we receive information about the world. As it is pointed out in the book, there are a good number of cases where reports are made that appeal to us mainly because they are in accordance with our own beliefs but that, in reality, don't line up with the data.

This isn't a book intended only for those who have already studied economics. On the contrary, it is well-written and engaging. It is, after all, an "International Bestseller" (or so says on the cover of the book, although I'd like to see the numbers). So if you're looking for a non-fiction book that's an enjoyable read and never becomes tedious, I know few, if any, that fit this description better than Freakonomics.

Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

2009-05-08T12:08:00.003-04:00

"One of the greatest productions of the human mind."
-Tolstoy

Dear Mr. Tolstoy,

I know that you are perhaps the greatest novelist who ever lived, but I have a question: REALLY?

Your friend,

Jonathan

When talking about this book, it's important to draw a line between the words "important" and "good". This isn't always easy to do. For example, when we talk about the works of James Joyce, which are certainly both important and good, the two terms are inextricably linked. Why are they important? Because they're so good. Why are they so good? Among other things, because of the important literary inventions found in them. Their importance and goodness have everything to do with one another.

When talking about Uncle Tom's Cabin, however, I think we can draw a very clear line. Put simply, it is undoubtedly important, but I would argue that it's not good. Stowe's book changed America, the world even. And it changed them for the good. To argue otherwise would be ridiculous. As literature, however, it just doesn't hold up. I make no secret that I'm not a huge fan of 19th century American literature in general. It almost hurts my conscience to say so, but this may be the worst of the worst. The main problem, it seems to me, is in the characters. The bad guys are so very bad, and the good guys are so nauseatingly good. "Uncle Tom" has justly become a by-word in America for a black man who is obedient to the point of being used. He's absurd. Little Eva, the white daughter of a slave owner who loves Tom and everybody (yes, EVERYBODY) falls fatally ill and gives a speech to everyone about how they should love each other before she dies, giving a lock of her hair to everyone. Stowe makes sure to let us know (as she does elsewhere in the novel) that literally everyone in the room is crying as this is happening. This kind of generalization pervades the novel and becomes tiresome and even dangerous. She generalizes about blacks, how they are more emotionally susceptible to events around them, etc. Given that this was a different time, I still can't believe some of the things she says about black people, especially as someone who is supposedly advocating for them. I would look up some example passages, but I don't want to waste my time. And what is her idea of a resolution at the end? After most of the main characters have been freed, they all go to Africa. Stowe's ideal: set the slaves free, and then they need to get out of our country.

In the Garden of The North American Martyrs by Tobias Wolff

2009-05-08T04:33:00.009-04:00

He started to talk almost the moment he sat down, and he didn't stop until we reached Wallingford. Was I going to Choate? What a coincidence--so was he. My first year? His too. Where was I from? Oregon? No shit? Way the hell and gone up in the boondocks, eh? He was from Indiana--Gary, Indiana. I knew the song, didn't I? I did, but he sang it for me anyway, all the way through, including the tricky ending. There were other boys in the coach, and they were staring at us, and I wished he would shut up... I wanted to know boys whose fathers ran banks and held Cabinet office and wrote books. I wanted to be their friend and go home with them on vacation and someday marry one of their sisters, and Eugene Miller didn't have much of a place in those plans. I told him I had a friend at Choate with whom I'd probably be rooming.

In the Garden is Wolff's first collection of short stories that was published back in the 70s. The above quote comes from the story, Smokers, which has a definite Holden Caulfield feel to it. But other than that story, the book exhibits a much different type of writing than Salinger's. The characters aren't extremely compelling in themselves, the dialogue is less witty, and the plot plays more of a role. I'm not completely sure of this theory but I think it's the subtleties in Wolff's writing that makes him so good.

I especially liked this one story about 3 friends going hunting. One of them is kind of the pick-on, and I really like how he describes this. For instance: Tub had trouble getting through the fences. Frank and Kenny could have helped him; they could have lifted up on the top wire and stepped on the bottom wire, but they didn't. They stood and watched him. For me, that produces a lot of empathy. The story turns pretty serious but as it ends Wolff downplays the actually drastic situation to make it not feel so heavy. It's almost like he's unable to do otherwise.

The title story is also a winner. I've read a fair amount of short stories in the past year and every now and then I would reach the last sentence, sit there and wonder if I missed something. It's weird how some great stories don't even seem like stories at all. Anyway, this story is different in that it has a clear climax and such a defining moment. It's about a professor who gets invited to interview at this prestigious university but she finds out it's not quite what she thought it was.

I know one, maybe two, stories are a little dull, but at the end of most I was taking one of two paths: either flipping back to reread passages or immediately starting the next one. I can recommend this book to the reader who likes stories of everyday life in typical suburbia. Wolff doesn't really display his creative, out-of-the-box side here, although that side does exist--Bullet to the Brain (in a newer collection) is definitely creative. I'd say fans of Raymond Carver and probably Cheever will enjoy this book mucho. And Hey! Raymond Carver's actually a huge fan: "I have not read a book of stories in years that has given me such a shock of amazement and recognition--and such pleasure." And with a top writer that looks like this, with THAT intense a glare, it's amazing if he affords you any attention at all. I bet he talked like Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

2009-05-07T20:50:00.005-04:00

I realize some or all of you guys may have already read The Road. In keeping with the spirit of the Robert Goulet’s Gentlemen Society, however, I have nonetheless decided to compose a review, the entirety of which undoubtedly amounts in quality to less than any single word chosen at random from Cormac McCarthy’s brilliant novel.

In The Road, some catastrophe has rendered the world lifeless, save those few who somehow survived. The survivors can essentially be divided into two groups: the good and the bad. Among the good, there is the man and the boy. They have few possessions, all of which the man wheels around in a shopping cart, and they are in a constant state of danger as they must try to avoid “the bad”: men and women who have resorted to the most depraved means of sustenance. I won’t say here what their method is but I will say that I’ve never read something so frightening as the passage where the man and the boy come face to face with it.

The man’s plan is to head for the coast. As you read on, however, (and you will read on, and on, and on, and wish that you had a bedpan because you won’t want to put the book down until you’ve finished reading the book straight through) you begin to realize how little hope there is for him and his son. This leads to a question I came to while reading: when all is for naught, does one go on struggling to survive? I cannot help but find myself in agreement with the sentiments of the man. I see my instincts leaning towards struggle rather than capitulation and would be curious to hear others’ views on the subject. Putting this discussion aside, though, I’m sure most would agree there is no good reason to believe the man and the boy will come out okay by the conclusion of the novel. Still, just as the man recognizes the innate preferability of life be it life in a world of hardship and pain, the reader too can find solace in the beauty of McCarthy’s words despite the theme of desolation that pervades throughout The Road.

On a side note, there’s going to be a film-adaptation of the book coming out sometime soon, I think. Viggo Mortensen is the man. I’d also slow dance with him.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

2009-04-29T01:31:00.007-04:00

Note: The book's title is not Bird and the author is not Bird by Anne Lamott. (Pause for sweet nerd laughter.) But I digress.

E.L. Doctorow once said that 'writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.' You don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice about writing, or life, I have ever heard.

Lamott has published both fiction and nonfiction, with the nonfiction being her thoughts on spirituality from her relatively liberal Christian standpoint. (In this book, she refers to God as a she.) Her Christian books are supposed to be pretty good and Donald Miller, author of Blue Like Jazz, raves about her.

As is stated on the cover, this book gives "instructions on writing and life." The latter is not really directly addressed but is kinda sneaked, if you will, with writing metaphors. And her instructions are pretty good. She devotes sections to plot, character, writer's block, and such. She also delves into practical stuff involved with writing such as publication and small literary circles wherein writers edit and encourage each other. She repeated stresses the joy of writing for writing and not for the sole pursuit of publication.

I picked this book up because I figured if I decided to start writing more then I might as well be equipped. I picked up some good stuff from this book. For example, I liked learning that most authors don't know where their story is headed. Another good point Lamott offers is to invest heavily in your characters--let them "become themselves" and thus drive the plot.

However, there is a caveat to naive readers of this book. I don't think you can really teach someone to be a good writer. This book won't instantly make John Smith the next Hemingway. Not to say that this is what Lamott set out to do with this book but readers shouldn't expect this kind of transformation. On the other hand, I think this book can make someone more effective with the way they write and let them "find their voice" (whatever that means).

Another advantage to the book is that it is so far from a textbook. It's much more personal and sprinkled with Lamott's self-deprecating, usually dry, sometimes weird, humor. She doesn't claim to know the whole caboodle on writing so the text becomes more of her thoughts on writing and what has helped her. It's definitely worth checking out if you are at all interested in trying your hand at writing. Like I said, it won't transform anybody but it does have passages that will definitely resonate with you (e.g. the quote I included up top) as you sit down at your desk to write.

The Informers by Bret Easton Ellis

2009-04-28T16:29:00.003-04:00

“I’m really thinking seriously about staying out here a little longer. I’ve sort of forgotten what New York and Camden look like and I’ve forgotten a lot of faces from there and I don’t know if I can face going back. I probably won’t stay here but I’ve been thinking about it. I’m dreading seeing those people who I called my friends. I’d rather stay out here and not, as you so often put it, ‘deal with it,’ y’know?”

The Los Angeles of Bret Easton Ellis is bronzed, hazy and smoke-filled. His New York is a cold, neon-lit nightclub. The characters that inhabit his numerous novels rarely fully explain their motives. Instead, Bret holds his audience captive through the sparseness of his writing. Typical themes of love get pushed aside in order to examine the angst found within our society.

The Informers is Bret Easton Ellis’s 1994 collection of short stories that further explores the motifs he set up in Less Than Zero and The Rules of Attraction. The thirteen stories contained within are full of drug use, 1980’s pop references, drifters and despair for tomorrow’ ills. There is a sense of primacy to his writing that by the time this book was publishing.

The characters feel alien to the typical reader, but that is the point. They exist within a reality that at first seems very real, yet we don’t have access. In one story the protagonist is the front man for the group “Bryan Metro” attempting to re-launch his career undeterred by his destructive sexual habits. In another, a couple attempts to enjoys a date at the zoo despite the underlying tension hinted at between the two.

Perhaps, the best example of Ellis’s style of writing is the story “Letters from L.A.” The narrator takes the reader through the corruption of morality that generates the characters inhabiting his novels. One gets a sense of the desire to escape this environment but the lack of willpower preventing so.

Ellis’s is not a reader that everyone can enjoy. One will not find any tales of unrequited love or adventure here – only relationships that have weathered one too many gin and tonics and cocaine. The characters feel distant. Ellis focuses his attention on the chain of events rather than the actions that led to their creation. Fans of Hemmingway would be well-suited to read at least one of Ellis’s novels in order to see how far the genre has developed since his unfortunate demise. I would recommend reading Less Than Zero before sinking into The Informers in order to get the full flavor of the L.A. he has crafted. I would also recommend avoiding the new film of the same name at all costs until long into its HBO circulation.

Seven Years In Tibet by Heinrich Harrer

2009-04-23T21:58:00.002-04:00

Although I said earlier that I would post on a book that I was reading about Chinese philosophy, I will not post on that book. That is to say, my post will not exceed the following sentence: do not read “A Short History Of Chinese Philosophy” by Fung Yu-Lan for it is boring and useless in terms of understanding Chinese philosophy. I will, however, post on the book that I just finished yesterday evening: Seven Years in Tibet by Heinrich Harrer. In Seven Years in Tibet, Harrer tells the true story of his escape from a British internment camp in India and his ensuing journey to the Tibetan capital, Lhasa.

One thing to keep in mind is that Harrer is a badass in every sense of the word. For starters, in his younger days, Harrer ascended a peak in the Austrian Alps so dangerous every attempted climb prior to Harrer’s had resulted either in the deaths of the climbers or mere incompletion. Harrer’s own conquering of the mountain would not go overlooked; it was described in, according to the author himself, not one, but “several books”. Harrer also happened to be a world-class skier as he was a member of the Austrian Olympic skiing team and winner of the World University Slalom Championship. Mind you, this all takes place during the preface.

Harrer’s tale continues to amaze as it moves into the first chapter and beyond. Harrer’s successful completion of the climb in the Alps granted him a spot in a German climbing expedition set for the Himalayas. Unfortunately for the group of climbers, World War II broke out soon after their arrival in the Himalayan region. British forces, which occupied India at the time, apprehended the group of German mountain climbers and sent them to an internment camp where they were, nonetheless, treated well. After several unsuccessful escape attempts, Harrer and a few others were finally made it across the Indian-Tibetan border where they were somewhat safe from British troops, as Britain had no jurisdiction in Tibet.

During his time in the camp, Harrer somehow managed to become relatively proficient in Tibetan. He and one of his hiking partners used their language skills to attempt to befriend the Tibetan people as they made their way through the Tibetan mountains and into Lhasa. Their journey was, of course, fraught with obstacles. A constant source of fear for Harrer and his partner was the fact that they were illegal immigrants in Tibet and if discovered would be returned to India, and thus to the British authorities. Amongst the other dangers they encountered during their travels were leopards, bears, bandits that roamed the countryside mercilessly killing anyone they came across for their possessions, 20,000 foot passes, and temperatures far below zero. They had no defenses, only some tattered clothing, a few possessions, and some money that they ran out of just before arriving in Lhasa.

After arriving in Lhasa, Harrer and his friend were both taken in by a Tibetan noble and gradually increased their status as they found work and assimilated into the life of Lhasa. Being essentially the first Europeans to come to Lhasa peacefully, Harrer was eventually sought out by the young and inquisitive Dalai Lama. Harrer served as his tutor for a couple years before Harrer and the Tibetan nobles were compelled to evacuate Lhasa when the Chinese invaded in 1950. Perhaps not badass, but nonetheless a cool thing to be able to say you were the tutor to a boy who was believed to be a living god by the more than 3 million people of Tibet at that time. After Harrer’s evacuation from Tibet in 1950, the book closes with a few remarks made by the author about the changes he saw in Tibet pre and post 1950 and his own feelings on the matter.

The book moves at a rapid clip, which is further aided by the author’s barebones, yet eloquent, writing style. Not only is it a highly enjoyable read, it also provides a fascinating insight into the life and customs of the Tibetan people before the Chinese invasion and subsequent overhaul of the country. Lucky for the reader, Harrer refrains from ranting about Tibetan independence or China’s actions in Tibet. Instead, Harrer maintains an objective view as he describes his observations of the habits, lifestyle, and general demeanor of the people.

Whether or not you are interested in Tibet, I would highly recommend this book. The story alone is reason enough to take the relatively short amount of time one needs to read it. When you add in the cultural and historical insight that Harrer’s experiences provide, the book simply becomes a must-read. If, however, you wish not to read the book, perhaps you should watch the movie, which features Brad Pitt, with whom I want to slow dance.

To Hate Like This Is To Be Happy Forever by Will Blythe

2009-04-20T22:14:00.003-04:00

Also read by Hunter.

While Hunter was waxing poetic on Will Blythe, I think I’m just gonna wax on him. This was the worst single piece of sportswriting I have ever encountered. Which is a real shame because there are some good sportswriters out there and with this serious a subject matter, I kindly wish it was written by one of them. Since Hunter has already reviewed the book and described what it’s about, I’m gonna make this blog cathartic by screaming questions at the author.

My questions for Will Blythe:

1.) First and foremost, what was your scope?
Throughout the entire book, I could not really pinpoint whether he wanted it to be his memoir of Duke-Carolina related stuff, a meditation on the rivalry, a research paper on Christianity and basketball (I’m not kidding!), an (semi-) in-depth look at the 2005 Carolina season, or a journal on Melvin Scott (probably the 5th player that I would choose on that team to learn more about). He talks about his family outside of basketball without developing any of their personalities and thus makes them inconsequential. Over and over, he brings up God and his existence as well as Christianity’s effects on basketball. He recounts multiple games during the 2005 season and just kinda writes some of his own thoughts on them. Lastly, he shadows Melvin Scott on and off the court while not doing the same with any other player. This may be the most befuddling and he doesn't even qualify why he does that. If you're gonna write about a basketball rivalry in NC, why are you going to go all biographical on a non-starting player from Baltimore?

2.) Did you really think you could write this book without doing any homework?
He interviews only one player, Art Heyman, who was involved in the rivalry before 2000. This is one of the top rivalries in sports with a rich history and he only talks with one player. Furthermore, he doesn't even get much into the story and the fights and the progressions of the rivalry. Again, scope.

3.) Did you realize you were going on tangents that weren't even basketball related?
He puts in little snippets of information that boring. In other parts, he questions the existence of God. In the last few paragraphs of the book he talks about how his dad died and came back as a bird. Need I say more?

4.) Do you realize how unclear your writing is?
I'm just gonna put in a quote here:

Driving to the Dean Dome, I found myself stuck behind a jogger who was running down the middle of the road at the bend near Forest Theater. He never turned back to look at the long line of cars forming behind him. He never detoured over to the sidewalk. This struck me as suggestive of an overly idealistic worldview that deserved to be complicated by a good tap on that professorial ass with two or so tons of Subaru.

Are you kidding me? Now imagine a whole book littered with sentences like the last one in the quote. This was easily the most frustrating writing style I've seen lately.

5.) Did you recognize that you nearly became Duke-neutral and that your sister sounds like a bigger Carolina fan than you?
Blythe transforms from hating Duke (self-proclaimed) to doing high-5s with a Duke fan during a Duke game. It isn't till the end of the book that he seems like a true Carolina fan. However, I think his sister, who seems cool, is more die-hard, though.

6.) Here's a list of other annoying things:

Name-dropping without introductions for people
Typos, about 5 occurring in the last half of the book
Bad grammar

I'll include a few things I did like about the book:

I liked reading insights from a Duke Law professor about the mentality of Duke students. This was a good interview subject. This is a excerpt where the professor talking about his students:

'[My wife] just hates them. And it's interesting; when at the end of each semester I have all my clinic students over for a party, she can tell right off who went to Duke undergrad . . . They're different,' he said. 'Almost without fail, they'll talk about money. They'd want to make sure you knew they went to Duke undergrad. They'll talk about the firm they're going to next. Students who went to other colleges as undergraduates will come in, they'll ask my wife about herself, they'll ask about the kids. This last semester, I didn't have any double Dukes in my class, and my wife said it was by far and away the best group of students I'd ever had.'

I also really liked his interview with a Wharton-grad mega-fan who goes by the alias ManhattenHeel on Inside Carolina, a message board website for fans. She had some really fascinating stuff to say. Sadly, my two favorite parts had nothing to do with Blythe and more to do with bigger fans.

Needless to say, I cannot recommend this book to anybody. The only reason why I was able to choke it down was the subject matter, which I care deeply for, and thus why I might be so critical of this book. Frustrating is the most accurate word I can use to describe it.

Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger

2009-04-19T17:52:00.003-04:00

For me, this book stands as the 20th century gold standard for short story writing. Not that I'm well-versed in a ton of short story writers, but, nonetheless, this is the best I've ever come across. The book is a collection of 9 short stories--I'm not sure why he didn't go for 10; maybe to have this sweet first edition cover
--and a few are of the Glass family, some have crazy story lines and ambiguous endings, and all are great. Everybody loves top 10 lists so I think it is appropriate to rate these stories in order of my liking.

9.) Teddy
This story appears last and perhaps because it has such a shocking and disturbing last line. The beginning of this was quite good but then the main character, Teddy, begins talking about metaphysics and Buddhism which is not as fascinating as Salinger's ordinary plots.

8.) De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period
This is one of two stories that uses first person. It is narrated by a painter who begins teaching art to students and becomes enamored by one of his students who is a nun. This one didn't really resonate with me though.

7.) The Laughing Man
Inside this story lies another story that is incredibly weird. The tone of the inside story follows the tone of the storyteller who becomes disheartened by a doomed relationship. I just read that this is often regarded as the finest of the 9 stories. I may disagree.

6.) Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut
I actually don't remember much of this story except that I liked it a lot. Good enough for 6, I know that.

5.) Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes
Nearly the entire of this story is a phone conversation and it appears that one of the men on the phone is in bed at that moment with the other man's wife. The man whose wife is out is worrying about her and his friend tries to calm him down. I probably shouldn't give away the ending because that's the whole story. However, the ending is a little ambiguous, in my opinion.

4.) Just Before the War with the Eskimos
This story is awesome! It requires careful reading but it is rewarding. One of the characters is a lot like Holden Caulfield.

3.) For Esme - With Love and Squalor
Really, the top 3 is interchangeable but having to choose, this is what I went with. This story is probably the second most popular of the collection. It is also feels a little like Lolita. Esme is a really fascinating character and when you find out the precise definition of squalor it makes the story much better.

2.) Down at the Dinghy
I had a really hard time not putting this at 1. It is, in a word, incredible. And it is the only story where Boo Boo Glass makes an appearance, and she is lovely. Great ending to the story. Read it.

1.) A Perfect Day for Bananafish
This was the second thing I ever read by Salinger and it confirmed as the real deal. This story exploded when it was first published in The New Yorker and it continues to stun today.

To Hate Like This Is To Be Happy Forver by Will Blythe

2009-04-16T01:01:00.009-04:00

"It is a basketball rivalry that simply has no equal. Duke vs. North Carolina is Ali vs. Frazier, the Giants vs. the Dodgers, the Red Sox vs. the Yankees. Hell, it's bigger than that. This is the Democrats vs. the Republicans, the Yankees vs. the Confederates, capitalism vs. communism. All right, okay, the Life Force vs. the Death Instinct, Eros vs. Thanatos. Is that big enough?"

What is it about college sports that captivate us so? Is it the fact that the referees actually call traveling or that the stadium does not reverberate with pop anthems such as the Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out” whenever a star player slams in a dunk? Yes, college sports are the beginning, middle and end of what most consider “the fun years” – when teamwork is supposed to thwart individual stardom and coaches appear to genuinely be interested in the course of the overall season.

Will Blythe’s first foray into the world of books could be written by no other fan of the sport. Blythe, a former literary editor of Esquire and contributor to The New Yorker, Rolling Stone, and Oxford American, represents the essence of “sports beatnik” journalism. To Hate Like This follows the Tar Heel team through the 2004-2005 season as they attempted to win a first national title for Coach Roy Williams. ¡SPOILERS!: The Tar Heels took the title that year, resulting is a top notch analysis of the invested emotions that restored the rivalry to Tobacco Road.

Blythe does not attempt to disguise the fact that he is unbiased; in fact, he grew up in Chapel Hill watching every game with his mother and sister. When he wasn’t watching his Tar Heels, Blythe could be found in his backyard shooting hoops in his futile attempt to imitate the numerous heroes that came out of the program under Dean Smith during the late ‘70s to mid-‘90s. Blythe often refers to the side his inner hatred of everything Duke as “the Beast.” Blythe’s “Beast” comes out when he is most vulnerable (ala the presence of Duke Graduates or a late-game made Tar Heel free throw).

In order to fulfill the requirements of the book’s subtitle, Blythe travels to the arched Gothic spires of Duke University into the evil lair that is Cameron Indoor Stadium for numerous Duke Basketball games and interviews with key players such as J.J. Redick and Sheldon Williams. Blythe manages to remain civil during an interview with Coach K (just barely).

The passionate zeal the author exudes is echoed in the fans the author encountered during the writing of the book. Blythe courageously documents the activities and outlets for numerous fans such as the creator of Inside Carolina website to the restless anger that still grips Duke player Art Heyman. One such fan equates the Duke-Carolina rivalry to that of a battle for control over a certain popular fictional land typically inhabited by hobbits, elves and trolls.

Blythe’s effortless writing belies his passion towards the subject. From team practices to the biographies of Rashad McCants, Melvin Williams, Raymond Felton and Sean May, Blythe breathes a sense of reality into the often foggy fame that fandom generates. Rashad McCants took every criticism personally while Sean May dealt with the same articles in stride thanks to the advice of his father, Scott May who played at Indiana under Coach Bobby Knight.

Now that Carolina has won another national championship under the tutelage of Coach Williams it is important to understand how the most famous rivalry in all of college basketball was founded. One can only hope that Will Blythe has been secretly working on his second book since 2006 that will match the frenetic intensity found within To Hate Like This Is To Be Happy Forever.

Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger

2009-04-11T21:11:00.003-04:00

This is the best I've read all year and quite possibly the best ever. Again, Salinger uses very little plot and heavy dialogue to create scenes that are so human. The characters are just so ineffably real. Although I might call them ordinary, just like Vonnegut's characters, they are so much more compelling than his.

I think these two stories of unequal length are actually better than The Catcher in the Rye. Franny is an incredible, and Franny the character is to die for. Her story is simple and takes place in a single afternoon but I was pleading for it not to end. His writing may not be the most intricate and complex, but I think Salinger's brilliance stands alone. I think it will be a long time before I find somebody whose prose is so genuine, so witty, and so freaking entertaining as his. Really incredible stuff.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

2009-04-11T00:28:00.005-04:00

Not the most entertaining read. The prose was ordinary. Billy Pilgrim was even more ordinary. At times, Vonngut was funny, but just sparsely. Only a few passages made me think, that was put nicely. I'll certainly write more on this later, but, for now, this book is getting pushed back into the corner. I really wanted to like this book but, apparently, it was unwilling to compromise. I'm gonna come back to it at a later time because something tells me I'm not getting the whole picture. More to come when I'm feeling more verbose.

Moby-Dick; or, The Whale by Herman Melville

2009-04-02T10:17:00.006-04:00

Also read by Jon.

Moby-Dick. I think this one of those stories that has become such a part of America's fabric that the actual book--the real masterpiece--has become diluted. The importance and brilliance actually gets overlooked with kids versions, cultural references to it, and so forth. At least this is what happened with me. I didn't ever feel the need to read it because I knew the essential plot line and that it was well-written; so what else is there to discover in it? Then I saw that Jon was reading it for class and what he said about it made me realize that I couldn't ignore this classic any longer.

In a sentence, my high expectations for this book were met. There are countless passages that are so beautifully crafted. Finding a remarkable quote from this book is like shooting fish in a barrel. Check out this one:

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

It's incredible how paragraphs like this occur one after another and each keeps you drooling for more. Very little of the book is plot (probably about a fourth or a third) and the rest is basically an encyclopedia on whales and whaling ships. It's easy to see that Melville was fascinated with whaling almost to the point of obsession and many of the information in the book comes from his direct experiences with whaling as well as his delving into many sources. But in this tedious information are many metaphors for God and humans. Reading it is sometimes hard but getting it is gratifying. So, yes, it is an exhausting read because it does take concentration to fully appreciate but, I think, meticulously is the only way to read this one.

The book is also really humorous. I wish there were more double-entendres with the whole Moby Dick being a sperm whale and all, but the humor does come through in other ways. This comes from one of my favorite chapters:

How it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential disclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, there open the very bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our hearts' honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg—a cosy, loving pair.

Now you might think Queequeg is a sweet little darling when in fact he's a tattooed cannibal. Nonetheless, he and Ishmael become bosom-friends.

This is an incredible read and I recommend it to any serious reader. This is truly the great American novel and I don't think the story should be experienced in any way other than the Melville way.

Sacred Hunger By Barry Unsworth

2009-04-01T17:34:00.010-04:00

‘Money is sacred, as everyone knows,’ said Delblanc. ‘So then must be the hunger for it and the means we use to obtain it. Once a man is in debt he becomes a flesh and blood form of money, a walking investment. You can do what you like with him, you can work him to death or you can sell him. This cannot be called cruelty or greed because we are seeking only to recover our investment and that is a sacred duty.’

Barry Unsworth’s 1992 novel provides a seminal, sometimes frightening window into the British Atlantic slave trade during the mid-eighteenth century. Sacred Hunger was required reading for my history 278 course, The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, but stands as an important part of our modern understanding on one of the cruelest examples of “globalism” gone awry.

The novel follows the lives of two relatives as they experience the different “legs” of the slave trade first hand. The older physician Matthew Paris seeks passage on his uncle’s slave ship, the Liverpool Merchant, in order to make a life for himself in the Caribbean after being imprisoned for teaching evolution in England. His younger cousin, Erasmus Kemp, enjoys a more relaxed lifestyle taking part in the daily life of Liverpool, courting Sarah Wolpert, drinking expensive wine and participating in a production named The Enchanted Island that borrows heavily from The Tempest. The younger character, Erasmus, despises the “utopian” beliefs his older cousin documents throughout the novel in his journal.

As the Liverpool Merchant reaches the coast of Guinea, Paris begins to grow increasingly frustrated by the implications of the slave trade. He is allowed special privileges by his uncle, but his character remains distant from the rest of the crew which is made up of convicts and men that swindled out of their money and forced onto the slave ship. As the ship’s surgeon, Paris is forced to constantly check the human cargo below for diseases that might lower their value once the ship reaches its intended destination of Jamaica.

The book then shifts over a decade into the future where Paris and the crew run a small settlement off of the southeastern coast of Florida. The Liverpool Merchant never made it to Jamaica after it was overrun by a slave mutiny and hit by a hurricane. On the surface, Paris’s vision of a tolerant, equal society is realized in the settlement, but a perverse version boils to the surface complimenting the book’s central theme – a sacred hunger for greed that is at the root of all our capitalist desires.

Unsworth clearly shows that he has done his research with Sacred Hunger. The sights, sounds and smells that accompanied this trade are in full effect. Paris observes the steam rising from a cargo hold grate on the Liverpool Merchant when the doors are sealed during a storm in order to protect the slaves from downing. The feverish journey unfolds around Paris in a manner that constantly tests the reader’s knowledge of the slave trade.

The novel makes excellent use of dialects, particularly in the second half of the novel. At times, I was forced to read aloud the Creole mix of pigeon, English and Spanish spoken in the settlement in order to grasp the change that has occurred over the decade gap. The narrative structure unfolds as well as any drama should and slowly fills in the intricate details and motivations encountered. This is one of the few novels I have been forced to read the epilogue in order to fully understand the story.

Sacred Hunger is a challenging book on many levels. The novel follows two diverging personalities that lead separate lives. This creates a wide cast of actors that constitute the world of the novel. This chronicle is not short by any means – weighing in at 630 pages. Unsworth also creates many scenarios that feel too “cinema graphic,” meaning that they feel ripped from the silver screen of his mind in order to keep to narrative flowing. Characters mention information that others would already know or likely know in order to fill the novel with evidence from the actual slave trade. As a student, taking a course on the slave trade much of this information feels severely forced. Also, the character of Erasmus Kemp was not fleshed out as well as Matthew Paris in my opinion causing his emergence later in the novel to be more of a whimper than the bang it should have been. His intentions did not balance with his actions. Kemp was supposed to be the yin to Paris’s yang, and yet, it felt as if Unsworth lost this in his delicate reconstruction of the slave trade.

The first book parallels the real-life case of the British slave ship called the Zong. During the ship's journey to the Caribbean the captain forced 122 slaves to drown themselves as they had grown too sickly to be worth any value and he could collect insurance on those that had died. The reckless abuse of humans spirals out of control until the beginning of Book 2. The Zong Massacre of 1781 ended up becoming a major tragedy that led to the eventual abolition of the slave trade in England and elsewhere.

Sacred Hunger is not a book I can recommend to everyone. As a fan of fiction culled from history Barry Unsworth has no doubt crafted a moving testament to the slave trade. Nearly all the perspectives and legs of the trade are accounted for. Going into the novel with an interest in the time period is a must in order to survive the first book. That said Sacred Hunger is one of the most truthful fictional interpretations of the trade that linked the world together. This is not a “beach read” but a powerful novel you will want to save for a time in your life when you can dedicate your full attention to the message contained within. The result might move you to tears.

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

2009-03-24T20:51:00.004-04:00

I picked up this book mainly because I had read the short story, with the same title of this book (it's also chapter 1), about a year ago and it was incredible--one of the best I've ever read. And apparently my opinion is in good company because the story was also selected by Updike as one of the best of the entire 20th century. So I encourage you to at least check out the short story, The Things They Carried, if not the entire book. It tells of one company, O'Brien's, marching through Vietnam, young and scared crapless and the things the have brought along as well as the memories they have of home and the memories of war that they'd rather forget but can't. The description of this is all very intimate.

The rest of the book is an ensemble of stories; some have been previously individually published in magazines and some chapters are just snippets of information to link it all together. Because O'Brien actually was in 'Nam, the logical question to ask is whether the stories are true. For a third or so of the book, he doesn't address this issue but later explains that most of the stories are works of fiction but are intended to produce the same feelings in the reader as a true story. I think the proper term for this device is metafiction, I think. He explains this well with an example of trying to remember walking upon a dead body. He stumbles upon the dead body, cold and stiff, and then looks at the face. This happened 20 years ago so he doesn't remember exactly what the face looks like but he does remember his feeling upon looking at it. Thus to produce this same feeling in his reader, he remembers the body:

His was a slim, dead, almost dainty young man of about twenty. He lay in the center of a red clay trail near the village of My Khe. His jaw was in his throat. His one eye was shut, the other eye was a star-shaped hole. I killed him.

He admits that this made up but it is important to tell it like this to make things present. And halfway through the book it doesn't really matter whether the stories actually happened or not--not because his style is simply great but because the point of it all is not the content but what the content does. It's kinda hard to explain but I think what he gets out of all this is a kind of catharsis.

The writing is excellent and extremely readable (the pages fly by), but this book is so much more. Even though it's fiction, it's an intimate account of the horrors of the war, of desperate camaraderie in fatal times, and the difficult trial of living beyond the war. And, in my opinion, it's told in the most painful yet compelling way possible--through story.

Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters; and, Seymour an Introduction by J.D. Salinger

2009-03-16T20:17:00.004-04:00

J.D. Salinger wowwwwww. He could squat, hold his hands 4 inches below his rectum, defecate, and smear it on a page and I would still read it--and probably pee my pants because it was literally the best s$%* I ever read. Seriously, these two novellas of sorts are quite impressive. Raise High is classic Salinger--an absolutely simple plot (2 afternoon hours take up the whole 100 pages) with fascinatingly witty characters. I think what I love most about his writing is the fact that the characters seem so real in their thoughts and actions. I feel like if I were to meet Salinger's protagonists in real life, they would be nothing short of the most interesting people in the world.

Reading Salinger makes me think writing is so easy. The way he puts two words together and continues to combine those two words with another set is really sweet. I think he gets into the psychology of his characters really well and he does this without being ornate; rather his beauty lies in its simplicity. Seymour is a bit crazier and doesn't follow the conventions of a novel. It is truly an introduction to probably Salinger's favorite Glass family character, Seymour, but told through the eyes of Buddy. From my reading, and this may be overly simplistic, it seems that the real Salinger is revealed phsyically through Buddy but speaks his mind through Seymour. These thoughts were easily the hardest part to read and my favorite part was the description of Seymour's athletic ability. I also really like, and was surprised to find, that Seymour, the same one from A Perfect Day for Bananafish, was actually pretty normal (in Salinger's mind) with an appetite to please and be a good example for his six younger siblings. In other works, Seymour is not mentally content but in this setting he was quite likable.

For fans of The Catcher in the Rye, I highly recommend Raise High. Seymour is harder to get through but rewarding for the biggest Salinger fanatics. Final thought: while I may not consider Salinger the biggest literary genius of the 20th century, I think he will continue to be my favorite author for a long time to come.

Oh and politely excuse this short post, including its frankness and extreme colloquialisms. I was trying to get any thoughts I had on the book in a short amount of time.

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

2009-03-09T21:30:00.003-04:00

"What is it, what nameless, inscrutable, unearthly thing is it; what cozening, hidden lord and master, and cruel, remorseless emperor commands me; that against all natural lovings and longings, I so keep pushing, and crowding, and jamming myself on all the time; recklessly making me ready to do what in my own proper, natural heart, I durst not so much as dare? Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, that lifts this arm?"

Above is a passage from one of the greatest of the many always verbose, often brilliant soliloquies delivered by Captain Ahab in Melville's 1851 epic, Moby-Dick, or The Whale. Clearly, Shakespeare is the template for much of what Melville does in the novel (excepting the earlier chapters, which were actually written before Melville had ever even read any Shakespeare!) But, as one classmate said in discussing this, his turn around must have been awfully fast. That is to say, it is truly astounding how quickly Melville went from having never read Shakespeare to not only having read him, but adapting his forms to a novel about whaling. Indeed, there are moments when it seems that Shakespeare is whispering to him from the grave. Before Moby-Dick, Melville wrote a few interesting and successful novels that were mostly plot-driven intrigues. Moby-Dick is without precedent in Melville's oeuvre. As my professor postulates, it seems to me that, had Melville not read Shakespeare in the midst of its composition, it would likely have turned out to be no more than the page-turner that seems to be set up in its beginning chapters. Don't get me wrong here--the opening chapters are good. They well-written, interesting, and often quite funny. However, it is not until well in to the book (the point in which Melville encountered Shakespeare's works by suggestion of his neighbor Nathaniel Hawthorne) that the we begin to find the beginnings of the metaphysical questions and internal conflicts that give most, if not all, of its true sublimity and seemingly unsearchable depth. Clearly, I am a big fan of this book. Reading it is a chore, to be sure, but if you give it time and careful attention, the rewards are enormous. Keep in mind that I began reading it as a nineteenth century American literature cynic (which I remain) with very negative reviews from many people for whose opinions I have great respect (among them my favorite professor and my father). Please believe me when I say that, in reading Moby-Dick, I am convinced that it is among the great novels of the English language, of any language.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz

2009-02-27T21:14:00.005-05:00

Whether it was because of Díaz's incessant use of Spanish words or my desire to go on another Salinger binge (these may be related), I was ready to be done with this book. It won the Pulitzer last year, and if somebody told me, This book was incredible, I would believe them. I, on the other hand, never really got into it.

I started the book last semester, but got caught up in schoolwork and never finished it... until now. It follows the life of an obese ghetto nerd who aspires to be the Dominican J.R.R. Tolkien. He writes all day and although he repulses almost any every girl, he is obsessed with finding love and a good lay. The book switches time periods a lot, trying to explain the curse of fuku on Oscar's family. It flashes back to the 80's and before, following the path of Oscar's mother, grandmother, and sister, and how they have all been haunted by a family curse. Díaz puts in a lot of history of the DR, almost to apprise ignorant Americans of the ruthless tyrant, Trujillo, who ruled the country for almost 2 decades.

I've read a couple short stories by Díaz, all good, but they've all had two main pieces: coarseness and Dominican-ness (if you read just one of his stories, you would know what I mean). This book follows in the same line. It seems very nationalistic, almost to the point where Díaz doesn't know how to tell a story that doesn't involve a Dominican character and Dominican culture. I may be totally missing the point, but Díaz comes across as overly proud of his heritage and things that belong to it.

As for the writing -- the dude can write. He doesn't follow conventional writing styles. His style in the book is actually kind of akin to The Road in the sense that it felt like a very literary gangster was telling the story to other gangsters. There was very little dialogue, which was never in quotations, and the story had a good roll to it. Sometimes, rarely, I would realize I had just read 20 pages without even realizing it. So the voice was good. Many kudos on that.

Bluntly, though, I felt like I was reading a history book (granted, one that took many liberties) rather than a work of literary fiction. It was a story, but just fact after fact. Character A did this, it resulted in this, and now he must do this. In addition, the footnotes were superfluous and I absolutely hated when Díaz would start an intriguing sentence in English and end it in Spanish.

Junot Díaz obviously has talent and I can see how this book, his first book, got favorable critical reception. I was mostly at odds with it though. I think I'll stick to his short stories, where, in my opinion, he thrives.

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

2009-02-24T19:08:00.006-05:00

Continuing my trek through the Chronicles of Narnia, I read Prince Caspian next, which chronologically is the 4th book in the series but the second one Lewis wrote. There are actually two orders in which the series is published and this issue still riles hardcore fans. Lewis wrote The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe first and then Prince Caspian but then went back and wrote a prequel to The Lion and also a book that tells what happened between The Lion and Caspian. Nowadays, Lewis' stepson insists that the series be printed with the books being numbered as they happen chronologically (so The Lion appears as number 2 and Caspian is number 4). However, reading them in this order is out of line because of the references they make. And anyone considering reading them should do so in the original order.

I was glad to see that they were making the movies in that order. It will be both a better depiction and will bring more money at the box office because people love prequels. I actually have not seen Prince Caspian but the book was pretty good. The first 170 odd pages, just like the first book, were essentially used to set up the final battle, which was ultimately an anti-climatic one-on-one showdown. The allegory was not as rich or as blatant as in the The Lion but could be seen with knowledge of the gospels. In fact, there are probably many different interpretations of what the characters symbolize and which story or doctrine the plot parallels.

To be honest, the plot was a bit bland, and I was very surprised the story ended with its boring final fight. Basically, it has been a few centuries since the children first fell into Narnia, defeated the White Witch and were crowned Kings and Queens. In that time, Old Narnia has been all but lost. Talking animals only live on in legend... or so they think. The country is now ruled by Telmarines which are human and the new King has killed much of Narnia's old inhabitants. He is childless, however, and thinks he will give his throne to his nephew, Prince Caspian, until he finds out his wife is bearing a child, and now he plans to kill Caspian.

Caspian flees the kingdom and stumbles upon talking creatures of Old Narnia who help him call the children. The children suddenly find themselves not in England anymore but now in Narnia. Aslan makes a return, blah blah blah. There's a final fight. End of story.

Ok, it's much better than that but the chapters never really grabbed me. In a way it was nice that the metaphors weren't so simple but I also felt unsure of my guesses. The plot followed the same line as the last book, only drifting away ever now and then. I still love Lewis' work and his children's books are nice relaxers but this one fell short. I'm looking forward to continuing the series but expect the plot to twist itself much more.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

2009-02-24T13:44:00.003-05:00

We read this in high school. I didn't pay attention in high school. I did have a few memories from the book but with it being the runner-up on the Modern Library's list of best English (language) novels of the 20th century, I, without question, had to (re)read it.

But what is there to say about The Great Gatsby that hasn't already been said? The book is really good. It's easy to see why it's the second best novel of the 20th century (and actually considered #1 on Radcliffe's list). The setting is perfect if you're into the glitz of the 1920s. The characters are fascinating in that they are rich, went to elite Ivy League schools (I'm a sucker for both real and made-up people who went to these universities) and only give a crap for life's finer things. And then the plot is real sweet.

The one truly likable character is Nick Carraway, who lives in a humble abode nested between two mansions, one being Gatsby's. It is his looking into the lives of the rich and the superficial that, in my opinion, makes this story what it is. He makes friends with Gatsby, who turns out to not all that he seems, and learns of the history between Gatsby and his cousing, Daisy, who is married to unfaithful Tom Buchanan. Nick also becomes involved with Jordan Baker and this relationship is a lot like Jake and Lady Ashley's in Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. Sounds like a perfect soap opera. But it is Fitzgerald that makes these relationships intriguing. At the end of the novel, it kind of turns into a murder mystery.

I think this is the archetypal book to give to aspring creative writers because it contains every element of a great novel. Unlike Ulysses which elicits both great and bad opinions on its genius (which Joyce probably knew as he wrote it), The Great Gatsby's genius can only be attacked with little jabs, but nothing too serious. This is truly a great American novel with many perfectly crafted sentences.

But you guys have all read this book. You know it's good stuff. Probably right outside my top 5 if not barely sliding in under the line.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

2009-02-24T11:51:00.002-05:00

I read this book in elementary school to much delight. Who doesn't like going to another world filled with fauns, centaurs, and talking beavers? I decided to reread this classic (a top 100 novel on Time's 100 list) in order to get a better understanding of its rich allegory to Christianity. And as simple as the metaphors are in the novel, they are still very beautiful and its nice to recognize the parallels between this story and the gospels.

After reading Lewis' other confounding apologetics, I felt relieved to take this breather. The story is about 4 English children who stumble upon a wardrobe that transports them to Narnia which is ruled by the White Witch. All characters of imagination live in this world and are astonished to see sons of Adam and daughters of Eve in their presence because the children are heirs to the throne in Narnia.

As the story progresses it is easy to see how each character and plot line falls into the story of Jesus. However, I also read that when Tolkien, a good friend of Lewis and also a Believer, read the manuscript he disapproved of the direct allegory Lewis was employing. He felt that the ideological messages constrained the fiction itself. And the story does have a preachiness feel to them. In fact, it could easily be seen as children propaganda.

I really liked the story though. Whether I would say this if I was an atheist and just viewed the fiction itself, I'm unsure. I plan to interject the rest of the Chronicles of Narnia in between heavier reads until I finish them. If you're looking for a light read with a fascinating children's story, this is a good one to pick up.

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

2009-02-23T22:48:00.005-05:00

Never a reader -- or a watcher -- of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, I decided to start with the lead-in to the series, The Hobbit. What an adventure! Tolkien's imagination matched with his pen might be unparalleled. He had awesome characters from hobbits (of course) to dwarfs to trolls to a dragon! Written for kids, this book follows an unlikely hobbit who spends most of his time in the comforts of his home playing host to guest. He has never been far beyond his front yard until one day a wizard named Gandolf shows up at his door stoop to tell him of the adventure he is about to embark on with 13 dwarves.

Along the way, they meet a host of characters -- some who help them and some who set them back. The book is littered with these episodes that are strung together to make an incredible journey that culminates at a dragon's lair.

Tolkien's greatest strength is his ability to make you feel like he is in the room telling the story. He made me feel 12 again, enjoying a cast of fairy tale creatures fight seemingly dangerous (of course we all know they will find a way out) ones. But this is also where the book had its setbacks. The story was pretty straightforward and juvenile. Most readers will be able to predict what happens in each episode and see it coming a long way out. Nevertheless, Tolkien still makes the story very worthwhile.

The LOTR trilogy is supposed to be much more complicated and genius as it delves into complex maps and the elvish language. The Hobbit served a good introduction and I think that my few complaints with it are more than compensated for in the follow-up.

Surprised by Joy by C.S. Lewis

2009-02-23T21:27:00.003-05:00

First and foremost, C.S. Lewis is among my favorite writers and after this read, his status remains untouched. However, Surprised by Joy surprised me with disappointment.

I've read about 4 books by Lewis, mostly Christian apologetics. In this area, his genius is unmatched, save G.K. Chesterton. He has a deep understanding of Christianity and his theology has become very popular even with Christians who don't think much. When I read his books, I am astounded by the beauty in how he phrases things I've thought all along, but have never been able to articulate.

This memoir of a work, though, had its shortcomings. Going into it, I thought he would talk a little about his childhood and a lot about his falling away from his Christian upbringing and then regrasping his faith. It was almost exactly the other way around. The anecdotes from growing up in school and dreaming of Narnia were, unsurprisedly, beautifully written, but, let's face it, beautiful writing doesn't inherently breed interesting stuff. With about 40 pages to go, he finally touched on his relapse into atheism and how joy overtook him (his description of joy was amazing!) and brought him back to Christianity.

But that was not good enough. I think he should have spent more time on this critical part in his life and less on the part that we all experience. On the other hand, Lewis was by all accounts a modest man who didn't feel at home when attention surrounded him. Thus, writing a book on himself would not have been the easiest.

The Longest Road Home by John Grogan

2009-02-23T17:49:00.005-05:00

In the past couple years, my eyes have rarely seen any contemporary literature, especially non-fiction. Most of my nights have been spent thumbing through the classics -- the Infernos, the Huckleberry Finns, the Lolitas -- for two reasons: primarily because they're awesome reads (they don't make 'em like this anymore) but also because they're predecessors to what's hitting bookshelves these days, and for that, they should be read first.

Two summers ago, on the beach, I stumbled upon a true beach book called Marley and Me by John Grogan about a writer and his rambunctious Labrador, but more about growing up with your family. Sounds run of the mill and cheesy, but Grogan really knows how to put sentences together well. Consequently, I couldn't wait for his second book come out.

The Longest Trip Home is Grogan's memoir about growing up under the rule of pious Catholic parents and ultimately failing to live up to their expectations. The book is divided into three sections, with the first about early childhood. John and his friends get into typical boy mischief -- pulling pranks, looking at nudey magazines, stealing and smoking cigarettes, and later, pot. He goes to church with his parents, but like most kids, does not enjoy it or even understand why saying 10 hail marys will keep you from hell. There are some good laughs and nostalgia in this feel-good section. By the way, he is way better at story telling than David Sedaris will ever be.

In the second part, John goes to college and starts to grow more into himself which is away from his parents. He loses any interest he had in the church but instead of admitting this to his parents, his thin veils makes it seem like he hasn't missed a beat since moving out. They continue to think he goes to church every Sunday and that he lives a devout Christian life. Some time after college, though, he finds his future wife, and after some more time they decide to live together. The 'rents are devastated. After attempts to talk him out of the decision, they excommunicate him (a 30-year-old man now) and believe they've lost all hope. As hurt as they are, they continue to try to support him and this struggle is the heart of the book. They love him as their son but seeing him raise a secular family goes against everything they believe in.

At old ages, John's parents are both carrying diseases. His mother ailing from Alzheimer's and his father learns he has cancer. I won't give away the end, but it is in this time that John comes full cirlce and finally feels comfortable and at peace with his truly loving parents.

If you want a light read that is very well-written, this book delivers. Grogan has remarkable grace with his large vocabulary, but he's not one of those writers that is superfluous with big words or overly ornate. He's a columnist by profession so he doesn't waste space and transitions really well. I really like how he constructs sentences and I'd like to see his hand attempt a fiction piece.

Zach's Pieces

2009-02-23T17:00:00.062-05:00

2010

Henceforth: http://www.shelfari.com/zholland/shelf

6. The Moviegoer by Walker Percy
5. A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis
4. The Crossing by Cormac McCarthy
3. White Noise by Don DeLillo
2. Jesus' Son by Denis Johnson
1. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupery

2009
48. Superfreakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner
47. A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Don Miller
46. Rabbit Run by John Updike
45. The Wild Things by Dave Eggers
44. The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
43. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
42. When You are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris
41. The Discomfort Zone by Jonathan Franzen
40. Independence Day by Richard Ford
39. Goodbye, Columbus by Philip Roth
38. All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy
37. No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy
36. The Plot Against America by Philip Roth
35. The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon
34. The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
33. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
32. Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver
31. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers
30. Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee
29. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote
28. Marry Me by John Updike
27. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
26. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
25. The Sportswriter by Richard Ford
24. The Breast by Philip Roth
23. The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien
22. A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
21. Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien
20. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
19. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
18. American Pastoral by Philip Roth
17. The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
16. In the Garden of The North American Martyrs by Tobias Wolff
15. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
14. To Hate Like This is To Be Happy Forever by Will Blythe
13. Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger
12. Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
11. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
10. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
9. The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
8. Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters; and, Seymour an Introduction by J.D. Salinger
7. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
6. Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis
5. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
4. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
3. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
2. Surprised by Joy by C.S. Lewis
1. The Longest Trip Home by John Grogan

Jon's Pieces

2009-02-23T17:00:00.053-05:00

10. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
9. Light in August by William Faulkner
8. Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver
7. Short Cuts by Raymond Carver
6. The Music School by John Updike
5. The Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway
4. Cathedral by Raymond Carver
3. Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower
2. Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
1. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

Hunter's Pieces

2009-02-23T17:00:00.040-05:00

7. Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney
6. The King of Madison Avenue by Kenneth Roman
5. Hiroshima by John Hersey
4. Stay Close by Libby Cataldi
3. The Informers by Bret Easton Ellis
2. To Hate Like This Is To Be Happy Forever by Will Blythe
1. Sacred Hunger by Barry Unsworth

Sam's Pieces

2009-02-23T17:00:00.032-05:00

4. South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami
3. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
2. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
1. Seven Years in Tibet by Heinrich Harrer