death by novel

So am I completely worthless

2009-05-15T12:05:00.000-07:00

Remember (of course you don't. A year without updates is death for any blog.) how I said I couldn't follow through with anything?

Now you have solid proof. Rock-hard.

Anyway, lately I've been missing you blogger!I've had such an exciting year in books, but alas, there is no record apart from my librarything catalog (plus I have a fun new computer!). What I'm saying is: please take me back blogger. I'll do just about anything. Including recommitting myself to blogging. Well, I'll try at least.

Will I or won't I? This is the type of terrifyingly exciting cliffhanger my (nonexistent) readers have come to expect on Death By Novel. I won't let you down.

ARC review: A Constant Heart

2008-08-20T11:22:00.000-07:00

Cross posted from LibraryThing, a review of A Constant Heart by Siri Mitchell. Book available October 2008.

I'm somewhat of a Tudor-aficionado, so I was sadly surprised that I was rather indifferent to this tale of love and duty set in the Late-Elizabethan period.

Marget, the daughter of a country knight, is newly come to court as a countess. She is very uncertain when it comes to navigating the waters of court and noble marriage. Her new husband, the Earl of Lytham, has no desire to make things smoother for Marget -- he married the beauty only for her money, as a past marriage has drained him of all feeling when it comes to love.

What transpires is a rather predictable yarn -- Marget and Lytham fall in love! But it isn't easy -- there are complications! I do not mean to be trite here, but I must say that I was wishing for more creative conflict.... I wanted to see these characters struggle, have direction. Instead, the novel is mostly series after series of miscommunication between lovers who quickly forgive. Admirable, yes, but not very interesting.

What was particularly interesting were the hints at Elinor, Lytham's previous wife.... I felt like she was shaping up to be a madwoman in the attic type character. I wish the author would have gone further here, or further with her obvious interests in the beauty rituals of Tudor England (these were by far my favorite sections).... that would have been a nice twist!

After I received this book I learned that the author wrote Christian novels and I was worried I would be unable to fairly review the piece. This novel had very little direct Christianity -- only in little asides such as a narration that Lytham was going to put his future in God's hands -- but I often found myself wishing the novel was more like a traditional Christian novel, because those novels often thrive on conflict (i.e. man struggling against God and himself).

ARC review: The Stories of Devil-Girl

2008-08-20T11:17:00.000-07:00

Short, brief review time! Just trying to get caught up here, so here are my Early Reviewer reviews, cross-posted from LibraryThing.

The Stories of Devil-Girl, by Anya Achtenberg, is a densely constructed set of very wordy stories. Each vignette is short but far from easily digestible.

When I learned that the writer's previous works are mostly poetry, this book made much more sense to me, as it reads like wandering prose poetry. I often found myself continuing to read only because I was hoping to find another pretty phrase or metaphor -- not because I was invested in the story.

I like to consider myself a fan of "experimental" fiction or "literary" fiction -- whatever you'd like to call it. But I do think there is a fine line between breaking the rules of the novel for story sake and breaking the rules of the novel for writer sake. I'm not convinced that Achtenberg landed on the story side here, and I'm afraid that is the side I prefer.

That said, her writing is beautiful, and I look forward to checking out some of her poetry -- based upon The Stories of Devil-Girl, I'm pretty certain I'd be a fan.

someone's been a very bad blogger and how ARC descriptions can mislead tender young bloggers

2008-07-29T16:43:00.000-07:00

sorry for the long-time-no-post thing I've had going on here. I just have been more of in a "reading" mood than in a "blogging" mood. Plus I've been enjoying the Oregon sunshine... us native Oregonians know that if you snooze you lose when it comes to sun. So summers tend to be an explosion of outdoorsy-ness.

But! This weekend's forecast does not look good and Roommate will be at his parents. These two things are perfect conditions for a blogging marathon. I've got a lot of catching up to do.

I've also excitingly received my second ARC through LibraryThing Early Reviewers, A Constant Heart by Siri Mitchell. I decided to do a couple of googles on the book as I patiently waited for it to arrive, and I learned an important lesson, which I will henceforth refer to as ARC Commandment #1: Thou shalt not request ARCs based upon the Early Reviewer description alone.

Here is the description that was posted on LibraryThing:

Born with the face of an angel, Marget Barnardsen is blessed. Her father is a knight, and now she is to be married to the Earl of Lytham. Her destiny is guaranteed ... at least, it would seem so. But when her introduction to court goes awry and Queen Elizabeth despises her, Marget fears she's lost her husband forever. Desperate to win him back, she'll do whatever it takes to discover how she failed and capture again the love of a man bound to the queen.

This seemed to fit right in with one of my very, very guilty-pleasures: Tudor-romance, a la Philippa Gregory and The Tudors on Showtime. So I was ecstatic when I saw I would be receiving the book -- it was my top choice! Woo!

But then I Googled and found that I was actually going to be reading Christian fiction, which I normally would not have requested -- only because I worry about my ability to give an unbiased review.

I used to be a very prolific reader of Christian fiction and particularly enjoyed novels by Francine Rivers -- who seems to be in the same vein as Siri Mitchell. But, I haven't read any since my fairly recent departure from the faith and I'm not sure how it will read to me now. I truly do not want to let my religious views color a review of a book that I am sure will be excellent for the right crowd. Eek!

I'm just going to try my best to read it as a story... It will be an interesting exercise for atheist-me to read Christian fiction -- a genre once beloved by evangelical-me -- in any case!

local headline of the week

2008-07-11T15:33:00.000-07:00

"Captured escapee unsuccessfully tries to escape again." The Oregonian, July 11. Online edition.

Narrowly beats out "Worlds collide in Portland bike fight" in today's print edition of The O.

advanced reader copies = best idea ever? a sunday salon post

2008-07-09T13:57:00.000-07:00

Today I received my very, very first advance reader copy (ARC) in the mail. Swoon!

While I will forever be addicted to bookstores and the irreplaceable joy of browsing the stacks for a gem, there is something intoxicating about receiving books in the mail. Even though you know they are coming, it's still like receiving a present... you get all the anticipation of waiting for it to arrive, and then you get to tear open the packaging to get at your "gift." Love it. Even though the post-office is kind of antiquated these days, I'd rather receive something via snail mail than email any day.

Anyway. This ARC is The Stories of Devil-Girl, a piece of "urban fiction," and I received it through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program. Technically it went on sale in May, so I'm not sure how "advance" it is. But. I still got it free through LTER, and therefore I am classifying it as an ARC, say what you will.

I'm excited to break into it and see how my first ARC experience goes. Holding it in my hands, I'm pretty sure I never would have picked this book up all by me onesies -- I like to buy used books, almost as a rule. Devil-Girl is so... unblemished. I am also a book cover snob, unfortunately (please don't tell anyone! I try to live with this shame in secret) and the cover does not hold up to my exacting bookstore-browsing standards. I'm glad I'm going to get to read a book that my own prejudices would have kept me from buying.

It's a pretty slim read though, so I'm moving it up to the top of my TBR stack (right after I finish Black Girl/White Girl by Joyce Carol Oates. Twenty pages in and I think I might have to kill myself because Oates is so good.)

Anyone else get ARCs? Any advice on how to approach these books with an open mind?

*Don't worry jessi, I'm still going to write about my high school's brush with literary/drama censorship! It is becoming quite a lengthy post so I'm working on it here and there as I have time.

*In other reading news, I am currently sipping my tea-of-choice. The quote on the tag of this particular bag is from the devastatingly perfect Mae West: "You're never too old to become younger." So true, Delicious Tea, so true. I love it when my beverages go all philosophical on me.

going back on promises and other miscellaneous lies

2008-07-02T16:04:00.000-07:00

I've changed my mind on reviewing Unaccostomed Earth and -- though I hate to say it -- On Chesil Beach.

I don't have much to say on either other than fan-girl gushiness and there are plenty of places you can read more insightful reviews of these than mine.

I will say though: On Chesil Beach = ridiculously awesome. I lovah my McEwan. And now I lovah my Jhumpa Lahiri.

Just imagine what a Lahiri/McEwan lovechild could accomplish....

I am currently making my way through The Sadeian Woman by Angela Carter (swoon! I didn't even know she wrote kick-ass feminist theory! Sometimes I feel like such a literature n00b.), which is a surprisingly good companion to the terrifying girls. I don't regret dredging my way through it anymore.

Excitingly though! I did snag my first LibraryThing Early Reviewers book! From the group discussions it looks like it's pretty hit or miss whether the book will actually arrive, though, so I'm trying to temper my hopes. I'm not even going to say what book it is in hopes of not jinxing it.

Also, I read about something in today's paper that really revved me up. It's a pre-blog story made new by a lawsuit (what else?) and involves my high school past! Literary censorship! Teenagers overcoming adult parameters and coming-of-age in the process!

In other words: it's the best kind of story.

So I'm hoping to write about it soon. We'll see if actually I do. I give myself 7-2 odds.

sunday salon: babysitters' club books were my gateway drug

2008-06-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

It's almost a new month and for me that means: book stock-up time! I'd finished last month's stash a little early, so I went to Powell's right after work on Friday and blew my monthly book allowance on 2 Joyce Carol Oates, an Antonia Fraser history, an Angela Carter feminist review and a Mark Acito (Portland author!)

Anyway, on my way back home on the bus, some guy started chatting me up, obviously seeing an opening in the load of books I was carrying. He was not a reader (note: total turn-off), and it made me think about how my reading life has evolved.

I don't remember a time of my life when I didn't read -- I was a pretty early reader.

My first reading frenzy, however, began in elementary school, with The Babysitters' Club. Essentially, I was Ann M. Martin's bitch.

I don't know what it is about series, but they seriously suck you in dry. It appeals to this very animal nature within us, I think... that drive to collect. For me it was almost obssessive. I had to own every single Babysitters' Club Book ever written. Soon that wasn't enough and I also had to collect everything Ann Martin had written, including a very PG autobiography.

As one of my friends said, I didn't so much read these books as devour them. I made it all the way to book 35 before I realized one of the character's names was Byron, not Bryan as I had been reading it for three years.

Even if they weren't exactly Anne of Green Gables, these books did instill in me a habit of reading regularly. So thank you Ann M. Martin.... who knows if I would be the reader I am today if I hadn't gotten absolutely hooked on the adventures of Kristi, Claudia, Stacey, Dawn, Mary Ann, et al.?

ooh, also! (completely not reading related)

2008-06-28T11:08:00.000-07:00

jerryd bayless is my new best friend.

kevin pritchard for president!

and the book buying might slow a little as I save up for a couple of tickets.

books and basketball! yay!

i love love love love LOVE draft night!

girls: easily as disturbing as freddy krueger

2008-06-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

I'm kind of egotistical when it comes to stomach-turning images. I don't get squeamish at blood, guts and the like.

In fact, a portion of my college years (in truth, a larger portion than I'd like to admit) were spent cleaning up vomit in the hallways of the freshman dormitory. I was a resident advisor and became so adept at disposing of vomit that the other RAs would call me 'specially in to help with particularly puky situations.

Not a skill I can put on my resume, but one I'm kinda proud of anyway. For me, nausea is only a result of sickness or bad pork: suck it, phobias and odors.

But alas, Nic Kelman has spoiled my perfect record. I had to set his novel girls down numerous times -- the situations he vividly described literally turned my stomach.

WARNING: Young book browsers, do not be fooled by the innocuos cover as I was. This is not a nice book.

The book is written in second person, although the "you" Kelman refers to shifts throughout the book: sometimes it is a businessman, a photographer, a bachelor, a husband, a father, etc. Each "you" is united and linked by their obsessive -- and at times destructive -- attitudes toward girls. Kelman's girls are girls in the truest sense. He does not use the word as a catchall for female humans of all ages. No, these men are irrevocably attracted to girls just beyond childhood, girls still in puberty's grasp.

Certainly, books about a man's infatuation for the teenage form are nothing new. But this book's accusatory tone makes the reader the perpetrator. Kelman tells the reader that s/he cannot look away from this girl's collarbone, that woman's ass. Soon becomes hard to believe that you haven't actually thought those thoughts. I had to take breaks to remind myself I wasn't a successful, predatory, girl-obssessed man.

As a feminist woman, this book was very difficult to read. Every bit of me fought it, the descriptions of girls as little other than sex object literally did turn my stomach. I finished this book about a month ago, but I've had to sit on it, think about it.

I think Kelman did an outstanding job of distilling the psyche of men who have everything they want. His leading men have long discarded their humanity and so they go searching for bits of life elsewhere, moving like vampires from one naive, young girl to the next. I think Girls is a fascinating gender study, but the execution is disturbing and frightening. I'm not convinced that I would read this again. I'm a wimp like that.

WHEN TO READ: Oh geez. This is a sex-laden little paperback. Do not read this at work, where people can read over your shoulder, where children might pick it up, etc. Maybe in the bathroom?

NOT IN THE MOOD? I must recommend The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity and Love as an antidote to Girls. bell hooks is more optimistic than Kelman about the possibility for egalitarian relationships between the sexes. Plus, this book is LIFE-CHANGING, guys.

GOOD FOR: Oh dear. Be ready for introspection and confrontation of disgusting human truths.

PERTINENT INFO: 214 pages. Thin with a large typeface, but a difficult subject matter. You'll know right away whether you can make it through the whole thing or not.

AUTHOR FACT: Nic seems to pursue many, many hobbies, according to his Web site. girls acutally began as his M.F.A. thesis.

jhumpa makes me cry my heart out like i'm first runner-up in a beauty pageant

2008-06-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

Just finished it.

Waaaaaah, waaaaaah, waaaaaaah goes my soul.

This was my first Jhumpa Lahiri book and I was intrigued but not convinced by the first story.

But Part II killed killed killed me. Beautifully unexpected.

I'll post a full review later (I also powered through On Chesil Beach, also splendidly delicious), but I just had to post a quick note on my immediate reaction. Has anyone else finished this?

sunday salon: books i should never, ever read.

2008-06-18T14:53:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that LibraryThing and I are friends. When I first joined, I was mostly captivated by flipping electronically through my collection and seeing how many other librarythingers had copies of some of my most treasured books.

(I kinda got a thrill when I entered in a book that no one had, although that's probably more a harbinger of poor literary taste than of any awesome book-genius-finding capability.)

It's also a particularly ideal place to browse reviews of books... you can check out the reviewer's library and therefore determine whether you have compatible tastes in literature.

But, hands-down, my favorite feature is the unsuggester -- an algorithm that determines which books you are not likely to enjoy based upon the books in your library. How, how awesome. A book site that tells you what to shun, that predicts what you will hate! Book-love is kind of like watching PBS; not that many people actually engage in the behavior, despite its cachet. But a book-hate feature on a book-love site is very relatable..... it's soooooooooo reality-tv confessional. Love it.

Here's my top 10 unsuggested books according to LibraryThing:
What oh what are you trying to tell me LibraryThing? Sometimes I wish you weren't so damn subtle.

Even better, the site tells you why you probably wouldn't like it. For instance: The Passion of Jesus Christ: Fifty Reasons Why He Came to Die is not found on many bookshelves which also contain Murakami, Butler, Dick, Fforde, Chabon. So, so much interesting data here....what does it mean that people who enjoy magical realism/science fiction probably do not also enjoy evangelical Christian analysis?

Seriously, guys, I could write a fucking thesis about it.

*I should note that I actually have read four of the books on this list. During a different period in my life.... but during that period I was not reading Murakami, et al. So hmm...

update

2008-06-18T10:32:00.000-07:00

last week, some family stuff. should be back to posting regularly soon.

sometimes i think

2008-06-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

there is nothing better than a bike ride through the sun-streaked rain.

human natures: part one of the review

2008-06-09T15:53:00.000-07:00

One of the odder things about me is that I used to believe that dinosaurs still roamed the earth.

As in RIGHT NOW. And that there was a vast scientific conspiracy to keep this irrefutable fact under wraps.

This belief was essentially the outcome of two factors in my childhood/adolescence: 1) I was an extremely fundamentalist Christian. 2) I also had a burning interest in science. I wanted to know why things were the way they were.

These two factors aren't really mutually exclusive. In fact, I came upon many people in my congregation, and in similar congregations, who also nurtured an interest in science. A popular activity at church campouts were astronomy courses. Biology -- minus evolution, of course -- was a popular major choice among my churchgoing friends.

But, the fact is that "mainstream" or "secular" science doesn't really jibe with the literalist Christian worldview: astronomists eventually must deal with the Big Bang and biologists inevitably bump into Darwin.

Enter the various science workshops for fundamentalists, aimed at addressing those issues in a way that fits in with a literal-Biblical worldview. It was in one of these workshops that a "respected" scientist explained away dinosaur fossils and carbon-dating by telling us that there was scientific proof that dinosaurs still existed. In Sri Lanka.

By my sophomore year in college, though, I began to have doubts about my worldview. I was reading more than Christian fiction. I was taking biology courses from professors who were unapologetic about evolution -- unlike the biology teachers in high school, whose teachings on the subject were regulated. I couldn't study an "alternate" form of species biology any longer, and brought face to face with Darwin, I was finally convinced.

So began my fascination with evolution in general and human evolution in particular. I've become quite a connoisseur of the genre. Paul Ehrlich's Human Natures: Genes, Cultures & The Human Prospect is so far my favorite book on this topic.

And because this is already getting so long, I'll post the rest of the review in a different post.

the children's hospital: the end of the world

2008-06-07T20:06:00.001-07:00

When I picked up this book I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself in for.

I liked the cover.

I liked the publisher (Grove/McSweeney's), which published the work of my alma mater's most recent literary success (whose book -- which my advisor pronounced "stunning" -- I've shamefully yet to read), Salvador Plascencia.

And, I have a semi-vested interest in children's hospitals.

I expected to at the least like the book.

But dear Lord, guys: this novel is a tenderly, beautifully crafted take on a 21st century armageddon. Set in a children's hospital. With science fiction elements like a replicator that can create just about anything you tell it to.

Here's the synopsis for The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian: Jemma is a third-year medical student, currently doing a pediatric clerkship. She's in a sexual relationship with a fellow student, something that freaks her out to no end because everyone she's adored has died.

But there's an angel watching over her. He knows something's up and that Jemma -- lutzy, imperfect, chubby Jemma -- will be at the center of it. A storm hits; another angel screams; the children's hospital is now alone, its occupants the sole survivors of a flooded world.

Jemma soon discovers her own supernatural power, and the children in the hospital blossom into perfectly formed, healthy adults. But how can these people, these sole survivors carry on into a world that is not yet completely cleansed? A world in which the final destruction is yet to come, as our narrator -- the angel -- tells us.

I try to write atypical reviews -- you can read pretty, glowing descriptions of prose in many magazines and newspapers. I think these reviews are beautiful, but they often leave the heart of the novel out -- how the novel appeals to each of us as individuals.

I know, kind of lofty, especially considering the language I've used in my past reviews. But that's how the reading experience becomes mine -- how I relate it to my own life.

Enough of that.

Getting back to the point -- this book deserves one of those glowing, preternaturally phrased reviews. Trust me, read it: it will break through your heart. It even broke through my ice-cold one.

WHEN TO READ: This book is lengthy but reads fast. Because of its nature -- it's about God, it's about humanity, it's about hope -- I recommend you give yourself a good chunk to devote to it. Good for long, lonely weekends when your only commitment is to your bookshelf.

NOT IN THE MOOD? I'm almost tempted to not fill out this section -- I've rarely felt so strongly about a book. I mean, if I was a literature professor I'd find a way to fit this book in. Even if I was teaching Milton (God forbid). But, I made this bed and in it I'll lie.

I'd recommend Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. Also devastating. Also, I think, about hope, destruction and new worlds. Also one of my all-time favorites; I think it's a respectable replacement.

GOOD FOR: Everyone. Seriously.

Ok, ok. Perfect for: former religious radicals (such as myself, a former fundamentalist Christian); people with a profound interest in life or medicine or hope or humanity.

Current religious radicals probably would not appreciate the book -- it strays a little -- a lot -- too far from accepted dogma.

PERTINENT INFO: 615 kind of large pages. And the text isn't big.
It's long. But please, please read it.

AUTHOR FACT: The best thing ever is the author bio, which I'll quote here:

CHRIS ADRIAN is the author of Gob's Grief. He recently completed a pediatric residency at the University of California, San Francisco, and is currently a student at Harvard Divinity School.

Damn.

***Edit: I must note that while browsing The McSweeney's Store I found that many of their books, including The Children's Hosptial, are on sale!

Just sayin'.

sunday salon: new books and the short story

2008-06-07T19:08:00.000-07:00

Posting my Sunday Salon a little early since my day is a little full tomorrow!

As promised, my delightful new bookshelf. Already out of room!

I also finally made it to the bookstore today, picking up several new books.

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
Summerland by Michael Chabon
A Model World by Michael Chabon
Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri

I've never read Chabon before, so I'm absolutely die-die-dying to crack into those. I vacillated back and forth between these and other Chabon books -- always difficult to tell where to begin with a prolific and well-known author. But. I'm a sucker for a sale, and I picked these up for $6.95 and $4.95 a piece.

Honestly.

Why I chose On Chesil Beach is obvious. What isn't as clear is why I waited so long to pick it up.

I've also been remiss in checking out Jhumpa Lahiri. I went for Unaccustomed Earth because I am absolutely addicted to short stories (and, also on sale. Just call me Scrooge!). Like I need a neurotransmitter blocker or something.

I am, and always will be, a defender of the short story. It isn't dead -- if anything, I think the short story is on the rebound.

I went to the bookstore with Mom, and she couldn't believe that I bought four books, two of them short story collections.

Mom: Eww. Who reads short stories?
Me: Umm, I do. Obviously.
Mom: But honey, you're a nerd.

I read short stories because this is where truly ground breaking fiction is practiced. Short stories are intellectual, entertaining and convenient, all in one go. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I read -- novels included -- but I guarantee that the ratio of thought-time to pages is much, much higher for short stories than novels.

i didn't.

2008-06-06T10:11:00.001-07:00

but today is a different day...

oh my gosh, should I buy?

2008-06-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

Guys, I'm faced with a serious dilemma here:

This ENTIRE collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets in HARDBACK is on sale at Amazon for:

$59.80. That's less than $2 a volume.

Do I really need Shakespeare's works in this format? Wouldn't a one volume collection be much better, especially considered my current shelf shortage?

Yes, one volume would be much more practical, says Practical Me.

But then I think it would be SO MUCH easier to read King Lear on, say, the bus if I could take one of those thin little things with me instead of a book that can double as a dumbbell.

Oh, the urge is strong here.

**I have to tell you that I had to restrain myself from titling this post "to buy or not to buy." I successfully resisted that temptation, but then I caved and wrote it down here anyway.

I guess I'll settle for that half-victory.

I, betrayer

2008-06-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

I left Wordpress. Moving to Blogger.

Lots of reasons.

LibraryThing widget a bigger factor than it should have been.

Archived wordpress posts here.

Looking forward to my new home!

when reading isn't fun (originally posted 06.03.08)

2008-06-05T10:42:00.001-07:00

So, ugh.

These past couple of weeks have not been at all conducive to my pastime of choice: reading, of course. Or playing video games. Or counting the days 'til Big Love returns. Or bicycling. Or ANY GOSH DARN FUDGE LOVING THING BESIDES WORKING (I've been watching a lot of Big Love on demand lately, hence the semi-curses).

I don't why this is, but lately I come home and I don't want to look at my book or anything. I just want to smother myself with Fudgsicles (absolutely delicious, guys!), fight with Roommate about various male celebrities and then collapse into a half-dreaming slumber on my newly decorated bed.

I am one lazy motherfucker lately, it seems.

Actually I do have a theory. It's because I live in Portland, Oregon, supposedly the greatest city to ever plant its pretentious little environmental legs on the West Coast. Supposedly the most bikiest, most fittest, most driving-friendliest, most pregnancy-happiest city of them all. BUTTHE SUN REFUSES TO SHINE FOR MORE THAN 3 CONSECUTIVE HOURS.

And it's really f-ing getting to me. I want to read outside. At our famous f-ing parks. I'm sick and tired of rain, folks.

Anyway, it's not like I'm not reading at all. I'm just getting it all done at work. This means I read

Every last line in The Oregonian. Including obituaries. Including business notes. Including items collected from the wire.
Every post at Blogtown, PDX. Seriously, guys -- every post.
Scores and scores of journals.
Piles and piles of old email correspondence.
Whatever I happen to find in the cafeteria.

I've been putting off my bookstore trip for weeks -- too depressed to go out into the rain, even if it is to buy books. But I need to stop.... I'm not reading anymore, I'm just mindlessly devouring words like some Fforde-ian binger.

** I was even too lazy to tag this first go-round. So pathetic. I'm classifying this as a book-related injury because I think the longer I go without stimulating my brain with adequate reading material, the more it is apt to turn to mush. Also, see above diagnosis of Fforde-ian binging. Also, that is my favorite category.

back from vacation = many, many, books read (originally posted 05.28.08)

2008-06-05T10:40:00.001-07:00

Obviously I haven't posted, but there is an explanation: I've been taking it easy on vacation in the most wondrous place in the world:

Pocatello, ID! Woot.

Since this vacation involved a very long car ride, I also got oodles of reading checked off. This means I have stacks of books to review (but which to choose first? Human Natures: Genes, Cultures and the Human Prospect (by the way, Paul, I absolutely LOVED this!)? The Children's Hospital (devastating)? Eats, Shoots & Leaves? and more!)

I also have to send off a review for a group that I'm a member of over at LibraryThing.

But, perhaps the most exhilarating, wondrous, important thing that happened this past week: I finally bought a new bookcase and said so long to the old handmade trooper that served me for 15 years. Pictures to follow.

I loved my old bookcase (which remains in surprisingly good condition), but a recent injury sustained at its ~~hands~~ shelves, convinced me that it was finally time to send those painted plywood planks to a nice family farm (read: Goodwill). Plus, the case was literally overflowing and I was quickly running out of room -- even with books stacked twice deep.

I enlisted my mom and her SUV on a mission to this tiny little furniture store I'm sure no one has ever heard of and bought the widest bookcase I could find. After assembling the bookcase all by myself, I happily showed mis libros to their new home.... and still did not have enough room. So I'll be traveling back for another shelf.

Also, I'm out of new reading material a couple days ahead of schedule (I usually do a shopping trip in the first week of a new month for that month's reading list). Powell's here I come. But what to buy? I'm leaning toward another good history or biography, some fiction of course and maybe even some poetry?

god, how I hate "you must read" lists (originally posted 05.13.08)

2008-06-05T10:37:00.001-07:00

So after perusing this list of the 1,001 Books You Must Read Before You Die (I've read 86... not even 10 percent and my life is at least 25 percent spent, so...) I was quickly reminded of why I hate these lists. First of all -- each person reacts to books differently. Anyone who has ever taken an English class can tell you this. A seminal book for me was Atonement by Ian McEwan, which I read in my university Intro to Literature course. I fought tooth and nail for that book and its characters during discussion sessions. This book elicited the first curse I'd ever uttered (if you've read my other posts, you'll see I'm more practiced now).

Most of my friends couldn't even find it in themselves to make it much further than chapter 7. However, one friend absolutely adored The Rachel Papers by Martin Amis -- he said it was the first time he ever truly enjoyed reading a novel. I could've done without this one on the syllabus. So I'd say for him, The Rachel Papers was a book he Absolutely Had to Read -- for him, Atonement was one he could skip. The great thing about novels is that they are subjective, that you can sit there and discuss and discuss why you dis/liked them without ever reaching a consensus.

1,001 books is a lot of books, but sadly, this list isn't much more inclusive or holistic than many others. For instance, there are close to ten novels by Ian McEwan on this list. Now I've read about all of his novels and enjoyed most of them (see above). But truthfully? In my opinion, you could just read Atonement or maybe Saturday, and get by just fine. Reading Enduring Love isn't going to change the way you see the world if you've read McEwan before.

And asking people to read five J.G. Ballard novels is a bit much, don't you think? For me, at least two Ballard books would be on my list of Absolute Have To Reads, but I'm weird like that. If you're not into crazy postmodern postapocalyptic science fiction, just read Crash. Or don't read Ballard at all.

And Charles Dickens? Couldn't you just pick one? Don't you think the world would get along just fine if Martin Chuzzlewit had never been written? I do. Maybe for you it's different.

The other problem with these reading lists that are deemed comprehensive for everyone is that they inevitably leave something obvious out. For instance: The Bible. Don't know about you, but I think this may be one of the most influential books in Western Civilization. For me, a must-read.

So instead of saying These Are Books You Must Read, I'm making a list of Books That Absolutely Changed My Life. Without further adieu, my top ten.

The Bible. Not a Christian now, but this book is something I come back to nearly every day. Literary allusions to it abound. Western politics marinate in its laws and stories. Though I no longer attach spiritual significance to its stories, I know I would be a different person without reading this book.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. I cannot get over this novel. This is the first book I read that made me -- notorious for my lack of affect -- cry.
Xenogenesis trilogy (now titled Lilith's Brood) by Octavia Butler. This novel ignited my love for science fiction and truly crystallized gender, race and sex relations for this budding feminist. I reread this book at least twice a year -- my copy is dog-eared and curling. I still shudder at the crisp, frightening tenderness portrayed in these books.
The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity and Love by bell hooks. Of the many bell hooks works that I enjoy, this one stands apart. Reading this book was the first time I really felt like I had found a feminism that was not handcuffed to male-bashing. This is the book I give most often to friends.
The Atrocity Exhibition by J. G. Ballard. Made me re-examine what I classify as wrong, true, good, false.
The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. Made me realize I absolutely had to be an English major.
The Collected Poems of Philip Larkin. My introduction to morbid, sleek verse.
Who Wrote the Bible? by Richard Friedman. This isn't a book I turn to often, or even one I think about. But it was this book, assigned to me during an Intro to the Bible course, that enabled me to begin to think critically and demystify the Bible -- to see it as an awesome work of generations of men, instead of the living word of God.
Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Haruki Murakami. I feel like this collection of short stories is a small slice of what it means to love. Again, it's hard for me to really FEEL emotions. I often feel incapable of romance. But these stories remind me of how life is infused with cherishable moments.
Atonement by Ian McEwan. See above.

buying disgusting, disgusting books (originally posted 05.05.08)

2008-06-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

All of these are not disgusting, disgusting books. No, in fact, this is my current reading/to-read list. There's some fiction; some non-fiction; and one book that probably came out of the DEVIL'S VERY OWN WOMB.

Obviously, it's this book (which I refuse to link to on principle). You should shield your eyes if you're sensitive to the very presence of evil.

Normally, there is no way you would catch me dead in the business management section of the bookstore. In fact, I avoid those aisles like a plague with acne. I mean, I definitely understand why those aisles exist. I even kind of understand why these books exist -- lots of people work. But that's the thing. I like to read for kicks. I read to relax. The last thing I want to read about is how to do better in the workplace.

Plus, I tend to find those books disturbingly capitalist and corporate -- which isn't surprising, but it always seems to shock me. I mean, the books basically tell you to get your employees to be one track robots that do nothing but support your "mission, vision and values" or "increase your marketshare." My brain already shrivels on contact with those words at work; why in the world would I expose the noggin' to those phrases on my personal time? In a book no less, which is where my poor little mind tries to find learning nuggets!

I don't want to confuse my brain, you see.

But, unfortunately, this was a must-buy for work. Absolutely have to read it and then I've got to write about it. At least I'm getting reimbursed for it.

But I still had to go and actually purchase it myself. And, since my neighborhood bookstore is quite possibly the uber-coolest bookstore on the planet, I was afraid to bring this book to the register. I mean, the cashiers are possibly the hippest, most book-knowledgeable people in all of Portland! Every time I buy books there the cashiers comment on my purchases. How could I go up to hipster, cute, Powell's cashier boy and pay for Tribal Leadership: Leveraging Natural Groups to Build a Thriving Organization?

Well I sucked it up and did it. I'm no pansy. But I also decided that since I had to throw my literary reputation down the Powell's toilet, I should buy books for myself. So I wandered over to the sale wall and bought three desirable, absolutely SEDUCTIVE little paperbacks for $26.91. Tribal Leadership cost $26.95, that over-priced ho of a book.

half life: or how to saw off your sister's head (originally posted 05.06.08)

2008-06-05T10:33:00.001-07:00

First let me give you the rundown.

Like many oh-so-cool heavy novels, Half Life by Shelley Jackson follows a twenty-something drifter who doesn't know who she is, guys. She's trying to find herself as an individual. You know, figure out who she is, and all that navel-gazing crap that twenty-somethings are wont to do (I'll admit it, including myself -- I mean these blog entries aren't nearly as much about books as they are about me).

Of course, Nora's navel-gazing is a wee bit complicated by the fact that she has two heads. One of which belongs to her twin sister, Blanche.

(Oh, how DEEP this book is! One is named Nora (night/black) and the other is named Blanche (white)! Isn't that just completely coincidental? Vomit, puke, etc. Seriously though, I like these names. When I really noticed their dichotomous nature, I was all mad and disappointed, but then I realized that their Mom is the type of person who would seriously give her twins cutesy matching names. Could've just called them Leather and Lace.)

So, apparently, NoraBlanche belong to a growing group of conjoined twins -- known colloquially as "twofers" -- across the globe, probably as a result of growing levels of radiation from nuclear sources. The whole world has changed to accommodate them -- think two neck-holed blouses, extra wide chairs on airplanes, even masks for one head when the other would like some privacy. Whole forms of erotica have grown up around the presence of these twofers (twofer on twofer, twofer on singleton; twofer on self (cleverly called twincest)).

But this isn't some post-apocalyptic novel about how humanity as we know it will be taken over by a new race of our own creation. No -- this is a novel about identity politics.

Identity politics may seem like a boring thing to build a novel from, but its a pretty popular choice.

Anyway Blanche and Nora are sisters. Blanche has been asleep for about a decade, so Nora is essentially going through life with a 12 pound tumor growing out of her shoulders. Because Blanche has been asleep for so long, Nora doesn't really identify with the twofer pride group that's coalesced in (where else?) San Francisco. She's not really singleton, either, but she identifies with them more.

So she decides to go through and cut her sister's head off by searching for the infamous fugitive, Doctor Decapitate.

Now how delightful is THAT? Way to go, Ms. Jackson. You are for real.

This books first 3/4s are absolutely amazing, climaxing in a scratch your head mind-fuck. ***Highlight to read the kinda-spoiler***: But then it goes all meta with a classic Guess What? I'm Actually Writing the Book You're Reading maneuver, which was masterfully done in Atonement, but kind of a misfire here. It took me forever to slog through the dense denseness that are the last couple of chapters, but the last line in the book is an absolute KILLER, and stuck with me for days -- kind of like this pork fried rice I once bought while in college. But this time, in a good way.

WHEN TO READ: This one's a heavy, with lots of little postmodern tricks toward the end. I recommend this one for family holidays, when you need an entire fucking tome to escape into, but only have room in your carry-on for a paperback.

NOT IN THE MOOD? Go for The God of Small Things. It's hardly meta at all, but deals with the same type of identity politics, sibling/family relationships and has a few twists. The God of Small Things is Half Life for the mainstream -- no big sweeping metaphors establishing the premise (such as an entire race of conjoined twins, for example), little toe dips into experimenting with the craft of writing -- but it's highly enjoyable while remaining a respectable, intellectual read.

GOOD FOR: Underrepresented groups of people, navel-gazing twenty-somethings, snobbish hipster types (those last two might be the same thing).

As this book deals with planning the murder of one's sibling, it's probably not a good gift choice for pro-lifers.

PERTINENT INFO: 440 pages. This is one where you're best reading in as few sittings as possible -- wait too long and you completely lose where you are. First 75 percent goes fast, last 25 percent a bit sluggish.

AUTHOR FACT: Shelley once published a story solely through the use of tattoos on willing volunteers. This story is so old it should be collecting social security, but its celebrity keeps dragging on. Kind of like Casey Kasem.

a brand new way to waste three hours on the internet (originally posted on 05.04.08)

2008-06-05T10:27:00.000-07:00

I like to consider myself a recent college graduate, but I suppose I'm not so recent that I knew what facebook was before even stepping on campus -- I think my institution got facebook sometime during my junior year.

I can only imagine how different my college experience would have been had facebook existed through every year of high education. I mean, that thing is a crazy bad time-suck with the added bonus of spreading super juicy gossip without actually having to talk to anyone.

(Up through high school, I rarely, if ever, indulged in gossip. This is not because I possess some amazing will power -- basically I was just too out of tune with what was going on with peers to contribute much of anything or have any stake. Then, in college, I joined the newspaper, thinking that that's the English major thing to do. Turns out that joining the campus newspaper is the thing to do for people who are really, really, REALLY into spreading rumors and talking about each and every minute happening on-campus -- from which new male professor the single and gorgeously long-haired poli sci prof was dating to the caterpillar found in one of the staffer's salads to the tendency of a certain resident hall director to invite gay men over to his on campus apartment. Now, I can sling gossip and rumor-monger with the best of them. Ah, journalism.)

So, when I was tag surfing after blogging today, I learned about the MOST AMAZING THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IN THE PAST 24 HOURS.

That thing, friends, is LibraryThing.

I know, I know, I am ridiculously late to the show, which drives me crazy because I am one of those snobs who likes to be an early adopter (I've waited in line for product launches before. I am such a capitalist pig. Do not, however, confuse me with music snobs who drop favorite artists as soon as they become popular -- those people make me SICK).

Basically, this thing has no real purpose except for you to catalogue the books you own. It then compares your taste to the taste of other librarians and also has a networking function -- both with the books themselves (in form of reviews) and with the other really, really, ridiculously ultra-cool people on the site.

GUYS, YOU WILL ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS. Plus, a limited membership is free.

My favorite feature is that you can see how many other people on the site have the same books as you. My most widely-owned books were obvious. The three books of which I am the sole owner were anthologies and theories, and, sadly, Tristan Hughes' delightful, slim stack of papers is only owned by one other person.

I spent about three hours this morning beginning to catalogue the books on my broke-ass bookshelf that is literally bursting at the seams full of books. (I am not, however, entering books that I have read, but which I do not own. That's cheating, you rule breakers). I really need to buy a new one or another one.

I actually think I gave myself a concussion while I was doing this. I pulled too hard on a book that was wedged in tightly and the bookshelf -- and all the books on it -- came with it. My hardcover versions of Undaunted Courage and Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince smacked the back of my skull. I'm woozy anmd trying not to go to sleep.

Please take this story as a word of caution and BE SAFE out there, guys. Virtual library-ing is dangerous work.

cat the great: the original cougar (originally posted 05.03.08)

2008-06-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

So, let's say you're a man who is consistently suffocating under the thumb of your mother. You're forced to live in her house, ask her permission to do anything, and at times you even have to wait on her. No one sympathizes with you because they only care about dear ol' Mom.

You've long suspected that she offed Dad and she's recently taken to sleeping with men much, much younger than you. She commandeers your children for herself and your wife must also be at her beck and call.

Then -- finally -- she dies. Now, everyone waits on you. You suddenly have limitless power. What do you do?

You say your mother died while fucking a horse, of course.

* * *

And that's that. But Virginia Rounding, author of Catherine the Great: Love, Sex, and Power, soundly defeats all rumors here, instead describing the many, many cultural and social reforms Catherine undertook to firmly establish Russia as an European Power. Catherine was bitchin'', guys! In fact, when I set down this book all I could think about was how completely Cat would kick Marie Antoinette's ass.

Let me explain.

When I was in college, I never took one history course. It seems remarkable that I was able to walk away with a liberal arts degree (in the humanities, no less) without one HIST on my transcript, but I did it.

So, right after I graduated, I found myself wandering the history section of my local bookstore. I had never walked over there before, but I guess I was contemplating my university-free future and I was lamenting all the courses I didn't take.

And then I saw her squinty, squinty face:

I am probably one of the few people in North America who looks forward to each Kirsten project.

So I ended up buying Antonia Fraser's absolutely perfect biography of Marie Antoinette. Marie, as it turns out, was another 18th century piece of royal ass that had unfair rumors (lesbianism, general promiscuity and that unfortunate cake line) attached to her name. And for the longest time, I was all about Antoine. I dragged my then-boyfriend to see Sofia Coppola's movie (I don't care what you say Rotten Tomatoes, I lurrrve it!) Whenever pastries were served I began one of my favorite "Did you know..." diatribes. I referred to her as Antoine (her given name) and got all huffy when people understandingly questioned who I was referring too.

I'm such a bitch sometimes. Sorry.

But, now I am totally backing Sophie (Catherine's given name) in any and all death matches between 18th century aristocrats/royalty. For starters - Marie didn't do one godforsaken thing except dance, act and mother. But Catherine kinda did plan her husband's death in order to seize power of Russia (even though she was born German). It's too her credit that people supported her. She was ruthlessly intelligent and completely aware of basic public relations principles (including composing her letters for audiences other than the recipient).

And also, she was completely hot for young men. While Marie was moping around with her one Swedish count, Catherine was sexing it up with a long long list of military men who got younger and younger as she grew older and older.

Way to go, sister. You beat Marie any day. Also, you weren't beheaded by your subjects, so I guess you beat her in your day, too.

WHEN TO READ: When you're in the mood for a lascivious love story, but you want to look "smart" on the bus. Also a good beach read -- it's got all the lust of chick lit, but reading it won't make you stupider.

NOT IN THE MOOD? Read Marie Antoinette instead. She's like royalty-lite. Plus Antoina Fraser is absolutely kick-ass. You cannot read that book without developing an inappropriate fondness for its author.

GOOD FOR: Feminists convinced that women rulers are tops, history lovers, older woman fetishists...

U.S.S.R sympathizers and misogynists should stay away from this one.

PERTINENT INFO: 566 pages, includes photos and a thick slab of references. Easy to put down and pick-up.

AUTHOR FACT: Virginia writes little poems (and I mean little -- four lines each) about several notables in history.

soy un perdedor (originally published 04.30.08)

2008-06-05T10:19:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't updated. To be honest I'm about 15 percent shocked, which is MORE shocked than I would usually be.

That sentence makes hardly any sense, so let me try once more.

Usually, I am terrible at follow through when I start a new project -- I get all excited, and decide that I am going to become a rock climber! I run out, climb five walls in one day and then forget all about it, because I'm already on to studying environmental science! And so on.

BUT. Probably the one constant in my life has been books. My parents tell me I started reading when I was two, but I don't entirely believe them because they also told me that if I plant cooked spaghetti in the ground we'd have a spaghetti tree. So, after spending several MONTHS of my life staring at an empty space of soil, searching for the sprouting of noodles or something, I decided to be more circumspect about what my parents told me.

Even if that's not the case though, I do remember reading early and often. By the time I graduated kindergarten I had already read about thirty volumes of The Babysitters Club (I know, I know, but that's pretty advanced for a six year old! God, how I wanted to be Stacey). When I got in trouble, I got grounded to the OUTSIDE without books to accompany me.

Once, after a usual marathon reading session, I set down my book and looked around for my parents. When I couldn't find them, I convinced myself and my little sister that our parents had abandoned us and we would be forced to fend for ourselves, like the Boxcar children (I was 12 at the time, fully capable of understanding the difference between fiction and life, but willfully choosing to ignore the disparities). When my parents returned from the grocery store, they discovered my sister and I crumpled on their bed in tears. Turns out I had a full conversation with Mom about where they were going and when they were coming back. But I had done it all unconsciously, because I was too immersed in my book to actually notice what I was doing in the real world.

As you can tell, I had very few friends during this period in my life.

Anyway. I thought that since I loved books so much and for so long, I'd be better able to commit to this project. But then I went on vacation, and work hounded me, etc., and here we are, a couple weeks later without any posts on specific books, despite this being a blog all about BOOKS.

I'm sorry. I'm going to do better, I promise.

Coming up: Did Catherine the Great really do the nasty with horses? And what do you do if you're a one half of a two-headed body and the other head has been asleep for decades?

the spiderwick chronicles: lost chapter (originally posted 04.10.08)

2008-06-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

The absolute most exciting thing ever happened this morning while my roommate and I were eating breakfast.

First off: I am not usually a big cereal eater. My usual weekday breakfast is toast and an apple, or a Luna bar (mmm, Nutz Over Chocolate!). Weekends, I like to go all out -- eggs, hasbrowns, etc. Ditto for my roommate.

But every now and then, who doesn't like a big ol' bowl of cereal? I eat Life cereal, or occasionally, Honey Bunches of Oats. My roommate has a more varied rotation.

So today we were both eating cereal. He had Lucky Charms, I had Life. Growing up, one of the worst things about being a child Life-lover is that Life never comes with a prize inside. As an adult, the worst thing about being a Life-addict is that Life never goes on sale. It doesn't have to. It just sits there at $4.25 and doesn't say boo, because it knows its going to get picked up, no matter what. It is just too damn delicious, guys.

Lucky Charms, on the other hand, has some movie or TV show it is pimping out every week. That cereal answers to "Don Juan" on the weekend, you know what I mean? You always find a toy in that box.

Anyway. This morning was no different. Note to readers: this is an actual conversation.

Roommate: There's a prize in my cereal! (reaches in and pulls out..)
Me: Oh my God, a book! In your cereal!
Roommate: Yeah... a book.
Me: That's only the best prize I've ever seen. Let me look. (turns book over) This is like a real book, with pictures and everything!
Roommate: I wish gay porn came in my cereal.

My roommate pulled out a FREAKING BOOK. A pretty nice book too, several pages, slick cover and illustrations. It was a "lost" chapter from The Spiderwick Chronicles, a book series which has been turned into a movie.

I'm pretty ambivalent about books turned into movies. But, as a rule, I think children's books survive the translation the best because the books are so visual already.

I've definitely taken a hard position on the whole "toy with meal" before. But... a book? I mean it's not like they're getting anything out of the Lucky Charms anyway. This way, at least General Mills is nourishing fragile child minds, if not bodies, right?

Right?