23 posts tagged “reading”
The two books remind me a lot of another favorite author of mine, Don Delillo. Their writing styles are different, but the stories they're telling of humanity and its struggle with and for modernity are similar.
In Spook Country Gibson weaves together the stories of a rather large cast in brilliant manner. Their inevitable encounters in no way seems contrived, or forced. Furthermore each of them are complete persons, not mere filler in order to advance plot points.
This book is part techno-thriller, part spy adventure, with bits of martial artistry, art, media and rock and roll thrown in for good measure.
Spook Country is exciting from beginning to end, and proves there really is no more an exciting time than the present.
Chris Rose is a columnist for the Times-Picayune. His book 1 Dead in Attic is a collection of his post-Katrina columns.
The city he describes in this book is a battered, broken city, but we all knew that. What Rose wants his readers to know is that the city is getting better, but it still hurts. The destruction wasn't just in the Lower Ninth Ward as it appears in the media, but everywhere. Some parts of the city fared better than others, but nothing went unharmed. That includes its people.
Chief among those scarred by Katrina is Rose himself. While this book is a chronicle of a ruined city crawling back to life it is also the story of one man's descent into depression.
The book begins bleakly--The title is taken from graffiti scrawled on the wall of a house Rose drove past nearly everyday for a year--and never really lets up. There are bright moments, and Rose definitely wants his reader to experience these moments, but he also wishes that what happened (is happening) not be forgotten.
I do know what it means to miss New Orleans. I never lived there, but I grew up in South Louisiana, and visited the city fairly often. I do miss it, even more so after reading this powerful book.
I've finished two books since my last update. Ann Patchett's Run and The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan.
The rest of the book takes place in the hours that evening and the following morning weaving together the two families in secret and wonderful ways.
This is a story of family most of all. Their secrets, their desires, their closeness are all captured here, skillfully so.
The book reads like a fairytale and in fact resolves like one, a little to neatly, but Patchett is a wonderful writer, and as such I didn't mind her fairytale at all. Rather I was transfixed by it.
It is a masterwork of nonfiction first and foremost. Pollan's prose is highly readable, not at all dry or boring. He brings the people he meets and the places he goes to life as well as the top fiction writers.
The subject matter is as powerful if not more so. Pollan's attempt with this book is to follow four types of meals from beginning to end: Industrial, Industrial-Organic, Organic and Hunted/Gathered. What we are presented with is an unabashed look at food in America and the secret lives and cost we don't see by simply looking at our plates.
This is required reading for anyone who eats food in America.
The city referred to in the title is Ambergris, and rather than tell the story of Ambergris in a traditional novel format, Vandermeer has instead pieced together short stories, biographies, history papers, and letters to weave an image of this terrifying city and its inhabitants.
Vandermeer wrote each piece, but many different voices tell the story of Ambergris. Usually I'm turned off by the collection of stories as novel format, but Saints and Madmen, would not work as well if presented as a traditional long novel. Instead what you have is a sort of found guidebook to a city you've never heard of, that you read anyway.
The pieces here reference one another, sometimes contradict one another, but always add a layer to the city's realness. The slow reveal pays off big time. The city is still alive in my mind days after finishing the book.
Vandermeer is a rising star, and this intriguing book left me eager to see what he does next.
What he does know about is crippling accidents, and that plays a very large role in Duma Key. Edgar Freemantle was a successful builder before a crane accident crushed his body, took his right arm, and resulted in his divorce. Edgar moves to the Florida Keys for some geographical therapy, and discovers a formerly hidden artistic ability.
Duma is about the power of art to uncover truth. Because this is a Stephen King story, that truth concerns dead twins, giant frogs, and a Florida Island's dark history.
While I enjoyed Lisey's Story a lot more than Duma Key the new book does speak to King's further development as a writer. He no longer writes pure "horror" in my opinion, but instead uses horror as the backdrop against which his characters live their lives.
No King's not writing literary fiction, but with the exception of the horrible Cell, King is writing deeper, fully realized works.
For me it was a compelling read, though I usually devour King at a rapid pace anyway. The story unfolds perfectly, ramping up the creepy factor with each new chapter. The ending fell a little flat, almost too easy, but other than that it's a new spin on classic King that's worth reading.
Reading is something else, an engagement of the imagination with life experience. It’s fad-resistant, precisely because human beings are hard-wired for story, and intrinsically curious. Reading is not about product.
New York Times, February 20, 2008, Book Lust.
This piece ostensibly calls Steve Jobs out for his wrongheaded remarks about the state of reading in America, but what I really liked are the ideas about books, like the one above, found in the piece.
When I'm actively working on my own writing, as I am currently, I read books in a slightly different manner than normal. I read not only for the story, but to study the craft. I did this while reading Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policemen's Union and came away thinking I should give up writing entirely. My skills will probably never match those of Chabon.
His use of simile alone in this novel blew me away. His command of the English language is among the best I've read. His prose style is somehow simple and complex. Meaty sentences full of crystal-clear detail abound here.
The story is pretty damn good too. Chabon has taken a classic pulp-character, a down on his luck police detective, and an essentially pulp story and turned it into a literary feat of character driven fiction.
Amazing!
What is the What is a novelized account of Deng's life beginning with his early childhood in Southern Sudan, to his displacement as a Lost Boy, to his resettlement in the United States.
The story is a powerful one. Often horrible, sometimes funny, and always compelling. Knowing that the story was true sometimes left me in disbelief that some of the tragedies within its pages can happen in this world, and continue to happen.
Eggers is without a doubt a talented writer. The source material here only ramps up his talent.
"I cannot recall the last time I was this moved by a novel. What Is the What is that rare book that truly deserves the overused and scarcely warranted moniker of 'sprawling epic.' Told with humor, humanity, and bottomless compassion for his subject, one Valentino Achak Deng, Eggers shows us the hardships, disillusions, and hopes of the long-suffering people of southern Sudan. This is the story of one boy's astonishing capacity to endure atrocity after atrocity, and yet refuse to abandon decency, kindness, and hope for home and acceptance. It is impossible to read this book and not be humbled, enlightened, transformed. I believe I will never forget Valentino Achak Deng."
There's nothing groundbreaking here, and the prose is good but not amazing, but the story caught me from the first chapter and never let go.
In the Q&A at the back of the version I read, author Sara Gruen says she meticulously researched the world of the traveling circus before writing the first word and I believe her. The world in these pages is alive, every detail is vibrant, and proves to be an elegant wrapper for the gritty mystery that unfolds.
Water for Elephants is a simple, fun read that is mysterious enough to make it interesting all the way through.
Gary Shteyngart's prose describes the most outlandish behavior in the most deadpan way possible. This is not blunt force comedy, there aren't verbal arrows pointing out every single joke, there aren't any arrows at all.
Much like Tina Fey's 30 Rock, or Arrested Development, TRDH's world only looks absurd to those on the outside. For that reason, the book is hard to describe or recommend. There will be those who get it and those who don't, but it's worth a shot at least to figure out which category you'll fall into.