Back in the (Victorian) day: Dickens!

My last memory of Dickens was reading A Tale of Two Cities in high school.  I have noticed that an increasing number of book reviews make reference to a cast of "Dickensian" characters.  Curious to know what this meant, I decided to pick up this great edition of Great Expectations published by Vintage Classics in 2012, for the nifty price of $7.00!  In this famous tale, Dickens tells the story of the iconic Pip, an orphan who grows up in a working class household, destined to be a blacksmith until a mysterious benefactor grants him the opportunity to become a "gentleman."  This is a wonderful bildungsroman, which not only tells the story of Pip's coming of age, but also explores such themes as social class and loyalty.  Also, Dickens includes many characters and describes them with panache, for example, referring to one character's "walnut-shell countenance," another one's "sawdusty fragrance," and my favorite, the "Pumblechookian elbow."  I also liked this sentence - "Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts."  The novel moved along quickly and held my interest, though it did drag toward the end.  While this wasn't a standout read for me, I'm glad I reacquainted myself with this classic author considered to be essential to any reader's literary canon. 

All in a Day's Work: Alain de Botton's Take on Our Occupations

Alain de Botton is a Swiss writer who tackles a variety of contemporary issues with a philosophical bent, from travel to love to status, referencing everyone from Plato to Zadie Smith in his writing.  In this work, de Botton takes on the complexities and daily foibles of the modern workplace.  When I picked up The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work in the hope of coming to a more sophisticated understanding of my parachute color, I was not expecting so much wit to be infused in his writing.  de Botton incorporates elements of sociology and ethnography by choosing several subjects to shadow and interact with on the theme of work.  From an accounting office to the countryside, he follows his subjects while shedding light on and and attempting to make sense of how our occupations and workplace can both nurture and damage our souls.  de Botton writes about the increased distance from knowing the makers of products, the disconnect from nature and the customers we serve, and the increasing intangibility of production (pointing out that it used to be that one could "step back at the end of  a day or lifetime and point to an object" and now how we more often produce "projects which long ago evaporated into nothing one could hold or see").  Some other great comments:

"We were now deep in the era of the technological sublime, when awe could most powerfully be invoked not by forests or icebergs but by supercomputers, rockets, and particle accelators.  We are now almost exclusively amazed by ourselves." 

About the field of logistics coordination (regarding strawberries, in particular), he writes, "An improbable number of grown-ups have been forced to subordinate their sloth, to move pallets across sheds and wait in rumbling diesel lorries in traffic to bow to the exacting demands of soft plump fruit."  

"We might define art as anything which pushes our thoughts in important yet neglected directions."   

While I found de Botton's book to be quite interesting and entertaining, it was not revelatory.  Nonetheless, his writing style and the glimpses he offers into different types of work held my interest all the way through.  It also makes me happy to know that there are undercurrents of getting back to the way production used to be years ago as there has been an influx in recent years of small-production craftsmanship and entrepreneurship ranging from goods on Etsy, to artisan ice cream, to hand built bicycles. 

River Ruminations: Short stories by Rick Bass

There's something captivating about rivers - the sheer force and beauty of them, the ability they have to offer us new beginnings or bring tragic endings.  Rivers feature prominently in so many books, symbolic of change, the passage of time, and the power of nature over man.  I've read several books over the last few years in which a river is a central feature, for example, Ron Rash's Saints at the River and Bonnie Jo Campbell's Once Upon a River.  Rick Bass' Platte River is comprised of three short stories which include rivers in the landscape, and yet, the rivers seemed to be more ancillary than central to each story.  While each tale had some beautiful images, for example, people skating along a melting river under the moonlight and jumping over sections where the water had melted, I just couldn't really get lost in the atmosphere of Bass' stories.  Bass' imagery is well-written, but the characters fell flat and the currents of the rivers weren't strong enough for me.

The Heart of Nebraska: Tom McNeal's New Novel

Tom McNeal's second novel, To Be Sung Underwater, is perhaps the perfect "end of summer" read.  McNeal has written one of the most romantic, lush, and surprising love stories I have read in a long time.  Judith Toomey, raised in Vermont, spends the summer with her father in Nebraska shortly after her parents separated.  She meets Willy Blunt, raised on a farm and working as a carpenter.   The two spend an idyllic summer together in far-reaching pastoral corners of the Nebraska plains.  The story weaves between Judith's life as an adult living in Los Angeles married to a successful banker and the telling of her first experience of love that fated summer in Nebraska.  The novel explores how we either let go of or hold on to what has shaped us.  

The New York Times recently had a feature on McNeal's beautiful home amidst the orange groves of Southern California.  Interestingly, the airy, colorful, peaceful photos of his home seem to align with the style of his writing.  His home is downright gorgeous, just like his novel.  Check out these fabulous photos:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/09/garden/at-home-with-tom-mcneal-an-imagination-with-built-ins.html?pagewanted=all

Review: The Last Brother

The Last Brother, written by Nathacha Appanah, a French-Mauritian of Indian origin, is an exquisitely written novel.  I was captivated from the first word to the last by Appanah's poetic but accessible language.  There were many sentences I read over and over again.  Appanah writes of extremes - unfathomable poverty and unrelenting violence, selfless friendship and fierce motherly love.  Just when you think the story is going to leave you broken, Appanah infuses the scene with an unexpectedly quiet or serene moment.  To give you a sense of Appanah's unique and strong voice, she writes, "I went and sat down by the vegetable plot and breathed in the forest with all my lungs, the green, ravaged scent of it, its strength as yet hardy resurgent following the cyclone, throwing my head back to open up my chest, and it seemed to me that I was inhaling the sky as well, the cloudless blue extent of it."  The simple act of a nine year-old boy breathing becomes a moment of grace and peace, and we as the reader breathe along with him.  Another sentence that I was struck by is "Silent tears coursed down his face in such a brutal manner that I was afraid this would never stop."  Brutality and tenderness in just a few words.  Appanah has written a small masterpiece.  I wouldn't miss this one.

Flying High with Beryl Markham

 

"It is really this that makes death so hard - curiosity unsatisfied," wrote Beryl Markham in her autobiography West with the Night.  Markham was British-born and raised in Kenya, where she had a childhood filled with freedom and an adulthood brimming with adventure.  She is considered a pioneer in aviation, as she was the first person to successfully cross the Atlantic Ocean from east to west.  Markham's writing is simply stunning.  She writes beautifully about the natural landscape, the wild animals she encounters, and the loneliness and exhilaration she feels flying over miles and miles of undeveloped Africa.  This is a beautiful book that held my attention from the very first page to the last.  Highly recommended!

Review: Music for Chameleons

I've been on a hiatus from reading, for lack of stumbling upon any real gems as of late.   I know they are out there, I just haven't had good luck recently!  So I did what needed to be done - delved into another wonderful book by the esteemed Mr. Capote.  Music for Chameleons is my favorite Capote book that I have read to date, because it shows off Capote's versatility as a master of the short story, a writer of witty dialogue, and a person intrigued with the darker side of the human soul.  The book is divided into three sections, the first being a few short stories, pitch-perfect of course.  Second, Capote included a factual account of a real crime (entitled "Handcarved Coffins") which is, on a smaller scale, similar to the type of writing he became famous for in In Cold Blood, and ends with what Capote called "Conversational Portraits" in which he captures with equal effortlessness the spirit of New Orleans, a day in the life of a house-cleaner in New York City, and an encounter with Marilyn Monroe, all focused on the dialogue between two or three main characters.  This book shows Capote off as a true craftsman of readable, edgy, varied, and brilliant literary creations.  Truly a gem!   

Review: Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self

Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self, by Danielle Evans, is a very good collection of short stories which focus predominantly on young African-American or mixed-race men and women as they navigate intimate relationships with their families, friends, and lovers.  Of the eight stories, there were probably three that were stand-outs, though all of them are well-written, fresh, and insightful.  To get a sense of Evans' writing, she states, "We are all walking around on eggshells, waiting for a death the way people wait on rainstorms when the sky promises bad weather, but so far nobody has talked to me about it, and nobody has asked me to do anything more than make potato salad."  Her writing is simple, with zing and emotional punch.  Evans published her first story at the age of 23, is a graduate of the Iowa Writer's Workshop, and currently teaches literature at American University.  I'm sensing that she is an up and coming literary star to watch out for, though we have yet to see what she can do in the realm of novels.

You really can't judge a book by its cover, after all

It has been a while since I have posted, but not for lack of trying.  Here are three books with alluring covers that I did not finish, simply because there are so many books on my "to read" list and I was disappointed with these so much so that I didn't want to invest the time to finish them.

Freedom - I remember really liking The Corrections, by Franzen, so I was excited to take on the mammoth Freedom.  I figured, the more Franzen, the better.  Plus, the New York Times Book Review raved about it.  After 226 pages, I could not continue.  I found the book to be without plot, the characters without redemption, and the editing completely lacking.  Perhaps the tides turned in the latter half of the book.

West of Here - A truly beautiful cover, plus, it is all about the Pacific Northwest, an area I love.  Alas, I made it through only about 20 pages of what I found to be an uninteresting and inauspicious beginning.  Again, I probably could have given this one more of a chance, but there are just too many books on my list, and it did not capture my interest.

Swamplandia! - I was intrigued by Swamplandia!  With its fairy tale-like, yet menacing cover, I was enticed.  Plus, Karen Russell was voted this past year as one of The New Yorker's "20 Under 40."  Furthermore, the plot sounded quite original - a family of alligator wrestlers living in the swamps of the Everglades, and a coming of age story with a female protagonist.  I read the first half of the book which I found inventive, but at the same time it dragged on and on.

Luckily, I think I have stumbled on a few books in the last week that have redeemed my appreciation and awe for good writing.  Soon to post!  

Review: Gold Boy, Emerald Girl

With only three books under her belt, Yiyun Li has already received many accolades - she was voted one of The New Yorker's "20 Under 40," was selected as a 2010 MacArthur Foundation fellow, and was chosen as one of Granta's "21 Best Young American Novelists."  Impressive! 

Li was born in Beijing in 1972 and moved to the U.S. (currently an Oakland resident!) in 1996.  She was trained as an immunologist and came to the U.S. to study medicine.  She ultimately decided to pursue writing and got her MFA from the Iowa Writer's Workshop.  Gold Boy, Emerald Girl is a collection of short stories written with sensitivity and gravitas.  Li's work provides insight into Chinese culture, and while her stories are contemporary, events of the past often shape them.  Yiyun Li is undoubtedly a talented writer.  I can't say that I immensely enjoyed reading these stories, but I learned from them and appreciated their subtlety and power.

Review: Lives of Girls and Women

Alice Munro is a wonderful writer, and, I imagine, a great short storyteller, but a novelist she does not seem to be.  Munro is known for her short stories, but being in the mood for a novel, I chose to read her only one to date, Lives of Girls and Women.  The book tells the story of Del Jordan, who comes of age in rural Ontario in the 1940s. 

Many of the sentences crafted by Munro I read more than once, they were that good.  For example, Munro writes,"...I felt remorse, that kind of tender remorse which has on its other side a brutal, unblemished satisfaction."  And also, "I had not had a friend before.  It interfered with freedom and made me deceitful in some ways, but it also extended and gave resonance to life."  The book didn't work as a cohesive novel, and is more of a series of disjointed vignettes.  I would recommend reading Alice Munro, but I would suggest you start with one of her short story collections.

Review: The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is an autobiography written by William Kamkwamba. Kamkwamba tells the story of his childhood in Malawi, growing up hungry and poor.  Since his family was not able to afford the school fees necessary to keep him enrolled in school, he began visiting a small library in his town and stumbled upon books about energy and physics.  The books inspired him to build a windmill.  With his resourcefulness and determination, Kamkwamba was able to build a windmill out of scrap metal and bicycle parts.  His hope was to bring electricity and running water to his town.  Having survived famine, Kamkwamba realized that a windmill could rotate a water pump which would allow for irrigation.  In addition, only 2% of Malawians have electricity, meaning that most Malawians are not able to be work or study after dark. Kamkwamba knew that if he could help to bring electricity to his town, it would increase productivity.

Kamkwamba's first windmill was able to light four light bulbs and power two radios in his home.  Soon, word spread of his invention, and Kamkwamba was invited to attend the annual TED (Technology, Environment, Design) conference, which brings together innovators from all over the world.  

This is a well-written, unflinching account of the power of innovation even in the face of seemingly impossible circumstances.  Kamkwamba now attends Dartmouth College.  His inspiring book reminds us that one person's ideas have the power to transform the world. 

The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay: Full of Heart

Beverly Jensen's The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay is a poignant, old-fashioned tale of two sisters, Idella and Avis, who grow up on a windswept, rocky bay in New Brunswick, and then move to Maine and Boston in early adulthood.  The book is a novel but each chapter could be a stand-alone short story.  The novel follows the more serious and dutiful Idella and the fiery and irreverent Avis through the course of their lives, starting with scenes from their childhood in 1916.  In the first chapter, "Gone," the girls lose their mother due to a mistake on the part of the country doctor who had given her the wrong pills for her pregnancy.  Their father Bill is left to figure out how to raise two girls amidst the toil of farm life.  Both Idella and Avis eventually leave the farm to forge independent lives.  The reader is so endeared by the two women that one finds oneself rooting for them, even as life still presents them with many challenges and hardships.  Throughout their lives, they are never quite dealt the hand we hope for them, but there is just enough humor and hope to make this book uplifting.  This is a book about loss and resilience, family and the landscapes that shape our lives.  It was an easy and absorbing read - a really good novel.  Beverly Jensen died of pancreatic cancer in 2003, and this is her only published work.

The Mountain Lion: A Coming of Age Classic

Jean Stafford, an award-winning short story writer and novelist,  wrote The Mountain Lion in 1947.  Stafford's work has been published in The New Yorker and she won a Pulitzer Prize for her collected short stories.  Yet, her work has been under the radar for many years.  The Mountain Lion was published again by the New York Review Books in 2010, and as a result, Stafford is once again garnering the attention her writing so clearly deserves.

The Mountain Lion tells the story of Ralph and Molly, siblings who grow up in a stodgy, genteel suburb with their prim and proper older sisters and mother.  But these two are not interested in the confines and routines of their daily life.  When they have the opportunity to start spending summers with their Uncle Claude who lives a rugged, wilder life on a ranch in Colorado, they are thrilled at the adventures that they believe await them.  As Ralph and Molly enter adolescence their strong bond becomes threatened as their innocence gives way to brooding and their individual searches for happiness, which seem to be elusive as the mountain lion that lives in the woods near the ranch.  Stafford has written a brilliant bildungsroman, complete with wit, sharpness, memorable characters, and a shocking ending.  So consider curling up with The Mountain Lion and a hot chocolate on this wintry day!

Bookseller by day, Writer by Night: Introducing Deborah Willis

Vanishing and Other Stories is a great debut from young Canadian author Deborah Willis.  Her short stories are written in simple, beautiful language and explore intimate relationships among friends, between lovers, and within families.  The two stand-out stories for me were "sky theatre," a story about a beautiful teenage girl who seems invincible but then falls from grace when an accident occurs, and a more ordinary girl who shares a pivotal moment with her.  The other stand-out story is "the separation," a story about two sisters with hippie parents ("raised on lentils, brown rice, Neil Young, and solstice celebrations") who decide to separate.  This was a very funny ("It was one thing to smoke weed that the neighbours grew.  But to support the big tobacco companies was out of the question."), tender, brilliantly written story.  In an addendum included in this print version, Willis writes an account of her double life as a bookseller and writer, and describes the moment when she sold the first copy of her book.  Her humility, as evidenced by all of her story titles written in lower case and her apparent wonderment at finding her writing in print, makes her a winsome author of whom I expect more great work to come.

Vida, true to its name, is full of life

Patricia Engel's debut Vida is a collection of short stories that all center around one character named Sabina.  These straight shooting stories tell it like it is about love, lust, friendship, and family.  In each of her stories, there are descriptions and interactions between the characters that are pitch-perfect, fresh, and blunt.  Engel writes, "The boyfriend grew up on a dusty patch of land where chickens became dinner," and, in a different story, "We tuck into each other like origami, fall asleep like captive hamsters, our lips touching, pretending we're each other's reason for surviving the cataclysm."  Engel also writes about Sabina's experience as a daughter of Colombian immigrants, writing, for example, that while "gringas" don't know of their heritage, "...my parents know our family lines five generations wide and ten generations back, down to the last conquistador."  Engel brings a distinctive, edgy new voice to fiction.  While these stories may not make you look at the world in a totally new light, they'll entertain you with their sharpness and impress you with their intelligence.

Review: I Curse the River of Time

This was the first book I have read by Per Petterson.  It was a quiet, moody novel with little dialogue and a lot of gray sky.  Ironically, East of Eden is highlighted as one of a few works on one of the main character's bookshelf.  I can't say I sympathized with the protagonist, Arvid. a 37-year old soon to be divorced man who hopes to reconcile with his dying mother.  The book takes place in Norway in 1989.  Unlike the honorable men in Steinbeck's classic, Arvid can at times barely walk across the room without falling to his knees in sadness and he forgets gloves in sub-zero weather.  He can hardly take care of himself.  While Petterson writes some great passages in simple language and creates a starkly atmospheric backdrop, I didn't feel any emotional connection to the characters.  There were a few sentences and passages I re-read, as they were very well-crafted, perhaps my favorite being the phrase, "...my head filled with shapeless, wild thoughts."  And yet, sometimes we want our protagonist to shape those thoughts into something palpable, so that we can reach in and feel what he is feeling.  On the continuum, this would be about a 7.5 out of 10.

Re-Visiting Steinbeck: An early contender for best book read in 2011!

Whatever your weekend plans are, you might want to strongly consider canceling them and getting your hands on a copy of East of Eden.  Recently recommended to me by a colleague, I remembered reading Of Mice and Men in school (was it Mr. Schneider's class?).  I don't remember being particularly fond of that book, but East of Eden is a very early contender for one of the best books I will read in 2011 (and possibly of all time).  


My copy was exactly 600 pages, and I would have kept reading had Steinbeck kept going.  East of Eden is the epic tale of the Trask family and the Hamilton family at the turn of the 20th century in Salinas Valley, California, not so very far from where I sit here writing this post.  The characters are beautifully rendered, the dialogue smart and gritty and achingly honest at times.  The reader comes to know the characters intimately, through both their words and their silences.  This is, ultimately, the story of brothers growing up and growing differently.  There are so many memorable scenes in this novel, particularly between the Trask brothers.  Here are a few of my favorite quotes:


"Oh, strawberries don't taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch!"


"Don't you want our rabbit?"


"It is probable that Adam did not even know he did it, but the caress brought such a raging flood of emotion to the boy that he saved this special joy and used it only when he needed it.  It was a magic to be depended upon."


I will let you discover your own favorite passages.  I will be reading more Steinbeck very soon, though I may have to space it out over time so as to have his wonderful, luminous writing to look forward to for a long time to come.

The 5 Best Books I Read in 2010!

And the winners are...


1.  Bloodroot, by Amy Greene

This debut novel by Appalachian writer Amy Greene is an epic, incandescent, hard-hitting story that moved me more than any other book I read this year.  The violence is shattering, as is the experience of reading the book, but alongside the harshness is beautiful writing and an unforgettable story.

2.  Half of a Yellow Sun, by Chimananda Ngozi Adichie

Adichie's Half of a Yellow Sun explodes off the page with the passion of its characters and the anguish of the Biafran War in Nigeria.  Adichie excels at capturing the emotional landscape of the country as well as the nuances between the characters.  

3.  Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates

Please see my recent post.  Bottom line - I couldn't put it down.  

4.  Invisible, by Paul Auster

Of the four Auster novels that I read this year, Invisible was my favorite.  Some words that come to mind - disturbing, shocking, intriguing, and full of surprises.  I read it in two sittings.  Auster may be too, well, austere for some readers, but his lack of warmth is made up for the sheer pleasure of never knowing what path the story will take.

5.  Strength in What Remains, by Tracy Kidder

I've been a long-time fan of Tracy Kidder.  Strength in What Remains tells the true story of a young man named Deo from Burundi who flees the genocide in his country and lands in NYC with $200 in his pocket and little else.  Through his determination and persistence, as well as the kindness of strangers, Deo gets a degree at Columbia University and goes on to medical school.  Other great books by Kidder include Mountains Beyond Mountains (which tells the story of Paul Farmer) and Hometown (about Northampton, MA).  

Man vs. The Mundane

Sometimes I read two books back to back at random, not expecting to draw any particular parallels.  I was surprised and intrigued by the similar struggles that the protagonists in Yates' Revolutionary Road and Percy's The Moviegoer face.  Published within a year of each other (1961 and 1960 respectively), both works deal with what Yates calls the "hopeless emptiness of everything in this country" and what Percy calls being "sunk in the everydayness."  Both protagonists, men at the beginning of their careers, are successful and lead a prescribed life, yet both rage against this normalcy and ease and search for something more meaningful.

In Revolutionary Road, April and Frank Wheeler seem to be on the way to having it all - two kids, success, and a nice house.  April having tried her hand at acting, and Frank being an intellectual with big ideas when they first met, they give up their big ambitions and settle into day-to-day family life.  April comes up with the idea that the family up and move to Paris so that Frank can do some soul searching while she gets an embassy job.  The arguing is incessant, the characters unlikeable, and the end is utterly depressing, yet I truly loved this book - one of the top 5 best books I've read this year, because every sentence crafted by Yates is perfection in its vivid imagery and smart, impassioned dialogue.  Also, while this book takes place in the 1950s, substitute a "swell" and a "sore" for more current language and the novel would be just as relevant today as it was fifty years ago.  Don't be dissuaded by the movie - this is an amazing book.  Hard to put down.

In The Moveigoer, Binx Bolling is a successful stockbroker with a nice house in Gentilly, a suburb of New Orleans.  He lives a life of working, dating, and moviegoing.  He attempts to be "Gregory Peck-ish" so as to charm women who have, for example, "Sarah Lawrence solemnity."  While this book is considered a classic, I found the writing too flat, and it dragged toward the end.

Both book raise the question of how we can live a rich life - do we need to search beyond what we already have?  Should we prescribe to what society says is "the good life" or should we follow our desires and throw caution to the wind (if we have the means and the risk tolerance to do so)?  How do we find meaning in the "everydayness?"  Onward, we ponder.