Of Love & Other Demons
Gabriel Garcia Marquez; ©1994
Fiction; 160pgs
As part of my continuing education in all things Marquez, I read this book directly after finishing A Chronicle of a Death Foretold. Though similar in length and setting, Of Love... is a wholly separate beast. Among other threads, it revolves mainly around a young girl and the affecting power she has on the world around her.
The prose in Of Love & Other Demons has a rather methodical gait. It plods forward, like an unassuming moose. As one reads, the book patiently leads the reader, lulling one into a sort of malaise. While one is vitally interested, one is never enraptured. In the last fourth of the book, the work blossoms into something unmistakably powerful and beautiful. It is a profound marvel, like walking out of a dark theater into a dazzlingly sunny afternoon...disorienting, yet wonderful. This book, of all I've read, illustrates Marquez's unique finishing power. I'm not certain I've ever found an author so adept with endings.
READ IT
September 13, 2009
September 8, 2009
doggy wisdom
The Art of Racing in the Rain
Garth Stein, © 2008
fiction; 320 pages
I'm back! After taking off the summer months from posting (not reading), I'm back to tell you about the latest book I've read. I can't remember where I read a review about this book, but what captured my attention was that the narrator of the story is a dog.
Sure enough, Enzo (a retriever, terrier mix) tells you the story of his owner's family and life. Denny is a professional race car driver, think sooped up Porsches and Ferraris not NASCAR, who marries the love of his life and has a daughter as well. While their child is still young and Denny's racing career is blossoming, the wife slowly dies from brain cancer. If this wasn't bad enough, unsuspecting villains emerge to make the reader really care about Denny and his struggle as a single parent.
Stein does a great job of mixing in great wisdom from a dog's perspective while fully developing his characters. It is a quick fun read.
read it
Garth Stein, © 2008
fiction; 320 pages
I'm back! After taking off the summer months from posting (not reading), I'm back to tell you about the latest book I've read. I can't remember where I read a review about this book, but what captured my attention was that the narrator of the story is a dog.
Sure enough, Enzo (a retriever, terrier mix) tells you the story of his owner's family and life. Denny is a professional race car driver, think sooped up Porsches and Ferraris not NASCAR, who marries the love of his life and has a daughter as well. While their child is still young and Denny's racing career is blossoming, the wife slowly dies from brain cancer. If this wasn't bad enough, unsuspecting villains emerge to make the reader really care about Denny and his struggle as a single parent.
Stein does a great job of mixing in great wisdom from a dog's perspective while fully developing his characters. It is a quick fun read.
read it
August 12, 2009
Guilty
Chronicle of a Death Foretold
Gabriel Garcia Marquez 1981
Fiction; 160pgs
Though enjoyed, Marquez is an author with whom I am largely unfamiliar. Even though I've read a handful of his books, I am by no means well versed in his output. For many years, the extent of my Marquez knowledge revolved around One Hundred Years of Solitude (coincidentally one my favorite books ever) and Love in the Time of Cholera. While the dearth of my reading was unfortunate, it shouldn't denote any lack of interest. On the contrary, I very much desired to read more Marquez, it just never seem to come about. Several years ago, I started the slow path towards improvement in this regard by reading The General in His Labyrinth. Years have since passed, but I was afforded the opportunity to further broaden my Marquez horizons courtesy of Mia Iseman. I borrowed and devoured two Marquez novellas, A Chronicle of a Death Foretold and Of Love and Other Demons. The latter shall be saved for another day.
Chronicle of a Death, I've been told, is Kafkaesque (Kafka being another hole in my first hand literary knowledge). The story itself is seemingly simple: a man is murdered by two men. It is only with each successive chapter than more and more of the story is revealed. To be overly cliche, the Chronicle exists as an onion, as each page/layer is peeled, we are brought closer and closer to a more complete understanding at what exists at the core.
Though seemingly simple, there is much at work throughout the book. It is rife with symbolism. In particular, by the end of the story, the figure of Santiago Nasar is eerily Christlike, both in his dress and death. Heightening this perception is the inaction of the community. Though all were aware of what was about to take place, hardly anyone acted to prevent the death (the resultant communal guilt is given an interesting physical manifestation).
Books should be discovered on the reader's terms. It is a singular pleasure and one I wish to respect, so I'm hesitant to enter into too much detail about the plot itself. Instead, I will rely on each reader's desire to discover the Chronicle's gemlike prose. It is a radiant, riveting piece of literature. One of the best pieces of fiction I have read in a long time.
READ IT.
August 11, 2009
Majestic
Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph
T.E. Lawrence ©1922
Non-Fiction; 784 pages
Often, upon finishing a rather large tome, there is a feeling of disillusionment. This has nothing to do with the book itself, but instead it is a manifestation of the experience. It is similar to a road trip. On the trip, you itch and itch towards completion. Though you take heed of what is around you, the finish line is the goal. It is what you seek.
Throughout these trips, whether book or road, one takes note of the joys along the way. In one, perhaps it is an exceedingly profound turn of phrase, while the other might be an exquisite sunset. It is this coloring that vaults the experience towards true felicity. When one reaches the end of this favorable road, the limits of reality appear. The never ending joys of the book suddenly have a terminus. As much as you yearn for the satisfaction of completion, it is always a bit abrupt.
Recently, I came face to face with this sense of abruptness when I finished reading Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph by T.E. Lawrence. To recognize the ending as abrupt is, of course, paradoxical at best. Despite inching forward each day, despite noticing the end of the road well in advance, I was incredulous to find myself at the end of the book. After wading through thousands of words by the Lawrence of Arabia, I was face to face with the obvious finality. The house was indeed complete.
The work is a magnum opus, a classic of 20th century literature. Lawrence, in hindsight, naturally seems to have destined for his work helping unite the Arabs and overthrow the Turks in WWI. Yet, even more so, he embodied perfection as a writer of an epic military history. To quote a reviewer, "he has a novelist's eye for detail, a poet's command of the language, an adventurer's heart, a soldier's great story, and his memory and intellect are at least as good as all those." Throughout the work he is keenly aware of the role he was playing in the somewhat orchestrated charade of war. Aflame with insight, Lawrence saw everything with an unjaundiced eye, even himself. Never was he fearful of revealing himself, unfavorable or not.
It is this earnestness that lends the book a truly poetic air. One that folds nicely within the obvious majesty of the story. Both of which, I believe, are illustrated with magnificent ease in the opening stanza of the dedicatory poem Lawrence penned for his book.
From these opening lines, through the next 300,000 some odd words I waded through the myth to find the man. Stunned upon completion, I wished for more. This yearning says nothing of the ending itself. It was everything one could wish for in an ending: descriptive, illuminating, and poignant. Even though I recognized the greatness, I still found myself wanting. I desired to know more about the inner workings of his head...more about his trials on the battlefield. More, and more, and more.
While the feeling was truly odd, it illustrates the depth and wonderment to be found not only in this book, but in reading. It is within the pages of books that one is able to lose their self and in doing so find a commonality with humanity. Reading takes us by the hand and helps us learn to empathize, to love, to despise...to feel. And it is these elementary lessons that reconnects one with their self; that soften the edges of a too often hardened soul and slowly pave a path towards a redemptive flowering.
T.E. Lawrence ©1922
Non-Fiction; 784 pages
Often, upon finishing a rather large tome, there is a feeling of disillusionment. This has nothing to do with the book itself, but instead it is a manifestation of the experience. It is similar to a road trip. On the trip, you itch and itch towards completion. Though you take heed of what is around you, the finish line is the goal. It is what you seek.
Throughout these trips, whether book or road, one takes note of the joys along the way. In one, perhaps it is an exceedingly profound turn of phrase, while the other might be an exquisite sunset. It is this coloring that vaults the experience towards true felicity. When one reaches the end of this favorable road, the limits of reality appear. The never ending joys of the book suddenly have a terminus. As much as you yearn for the satisfaction of completion, it is always a bit abrupt.
Recently, I came face to face with this sense of abruptness when I finished reading Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph by T.E. Lawrence. To recognize the ending as abrupt is, of course, paradoxical at best. Despite inching forward each day, despite noticing the end of the road well in advance, I was incredulous to find myself at the end of the book. After wading through thousands of words by the Lawrence of Arabia, I was face to face with the obvious finality. The house was indeed complete.
The work is a magnum opus, a classic of 20th century literature. Lawrence, in hindsight, naturally seems to have destined for his work helping unite the Arabs and overthrow the Turks in WWI. Yet, even more so, he embodied perfection as a writer of an epic military history. To quote a reviewer, "he has a novelist's eye for detail, a poet's command of the language, an adventurer's heart, a soldier's great story, and his memory and intellect are at least as good as all those." Throughout the work he is keenly aware of the role he was playing in the somewhat orchestrated charade of war. Aflame with insight, Lawrence saw everything with an unjaundiced eye, even himself. Never was he fearful of revealing himself, unfavorable or not.
It is this earnestness that lends the book a truly poetic air. One that folds nicely within the obvious majesty of the story. Both of which, I believe, are illustrated with magnificent ease in the opening stanza of the dedicatory poem Lawrence penned for his book.
I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands
and wrote my will across the sky in stars
To gain you Freedom, the seven-pillared worthy house,
that your eyes might be shining for me
When I came.
From these opening lines, through the next 300,000 some odd words I waded through the myth to find the man. Stunned upon completion, I wished for more. This yearning says nothing of the ending itself. It was everything one could wish for in an ending: descriptive, illuminating, and poignant. Even though I recognized the greatness, I still found myself wanting. I desired to know more about the inner workings of his head...more about his trials on the battlefield. More, and more, and more.
While the feeling was truly odd, it illustrates the depth and wonderment to be found not only in this book, but in reading. It is within the pages of books that one is able to lose their self and in doing so find a commonality with humanity. Reading takes us by the hand and helps us learn to empathize, to love, to despise...to feel. And it is these elementary lessons that reconnects one with their self; that soften the edges of a too often hardened soul and slowly pave a path towards a redemptive flowering.
All of which leads me to say, READ IT.
July 26, 2009
Virtuous
Justine, The Misfortunes of Virtue, or Good Conduct Well Chastised
Marquis de Sade
Fiction
Many are probably loosely aware of the author of Justine, though not as an author but as the namesake for a particular brand of gratification. Much of the material that sparked the association and derivation of that word, sadism, with the Marquis occur in this particular novel. To be certain, the book is revolutionary. That quality, however, has faded a bit in the intervening years.
Orphaned at age 12, the aristocratic and virtuous Justine parts with her older, more cynical sister, Juliette. Juliette, through vice, goes on to find fortune and prosperity while Justine meets nothing but misfortune and abuse. The outrageous fortune of Justine is recanted in first person to Madame de Lorsagne and her husband. The novel is in essence a pulpit for de Sade to promote his own ideas and politics (there is a preponderance of didactic soliloquies by the characters in the novel which tend to wear one out).
It is, in its core, a novel of extreme poetic justice...through vice there is prosperity and through virtue despair. In the end, Justine (who uses the pseudonym Therese throughout her life) is rescued by her sister, the aforementioned Lorsagne. Her initial joy gives way to despondency and moroseness before she is struck by a lightning bolt and perishes. Her sister, greatly affected, runs off to join a nunnery, where she becomes a paragon of virtue.
If you have an interest in late 18th early 19th century French literature, I would recommend the book heartily. Otherwise, unless you have a particular interest (mine own was the namesake corollary between it and my favorite book, Justine by Lawrence Durrell) in sadism or societal theory,
SKIP IT
Marquis de Sade
Fiction
Many are probably loosely aware of the author of Justine, though not as an author but as the namesake for a particular brand of gratification. Much of the material that sparked the association and derivation of that word, sadism, with the Marquis occur in this particular novel. To be certain, the book is revolutionary. That quality, however, has faded a bit in the intervening years.
Orphaned at age 12, the aristocratic and virtuous Justine parts with her older, more cynical sister, Juliette. Juliette, through vice, goes on to find fortune and prosperity while Justine meets nothing but misfortune and abuse. The outrageous fortune of Justine is recanted in first person to Madame de Lorsagne and her husband. The novel is in essence a pulpit for de Sade to promote his own ideas and politics (there is a preponderance of didactic soliloquies by the characters in the novel which tend to wear one out).
It is, in its core, a novel of extreme poetic justice...through vice there is prosperity and through virtue despair. In the end, Justine (who uses the pseudonym Therese throughout her life) is rescued by her sister, the aforementioned Lorsagne. Her initial joy gives way to despondency and moroseness before she is struck by a lightning bolt and perishes. Her sister, greatly affected, runs off to join a nunnery, where she becomes a paragon of virtue.
If you have an interest in late 18th early 19th century French literature, I would recommend the book heartily. Otherwise, unless you have a particular interest (mine own was the namesake corollary between it and my favorite book, Justine by Lawrence Durrell) in sadism or societal theory,
SKIP IT
July 9, 2009
Soaked
The Rum Diary
Hunter S. Thompson ©1999
Fiction; 224 pages
My friend, Skip, was the impetus for reading this book. Prior to reading The Rum Diary, I was largely uneducated in the canon of Thompson. All of my prior experiences with him were articles courtesy of Rolling Stone in high school and college. Honestly, I had never really felt compelled to read him like I have in the past for other writers.
The Rum Diary is largely based on Thompson's own experiences in San Juan, Puerto Rico as a journalist. Penned when he was 22, The Rum Diary seems to have been written by a much older, world weary man (ironically, it wasn't released until he was an old man). Fast paced and highly entertaining, there is a sense of disquietude and dissatisfaction throughout. Though each character seems to have goals and aspirations for their life, they are largely inept at figuring them out. Instead, because they are incapable of ascertaining anything concrete, they are obsessed with running, getting away...leaving the island for something, somewhere better.
It is, however, the stifling nature of the island that propels them (and the novel) forward. Each day was mechanical, lived because of a glaring lack of alternatives. They seemed to sate themselves and their inadequacies in booze, vainly hoping that sooner or later something had to give. In the absence of answers, life was lived (quite wildly at times) as they waited, like we all have, for a sense of direction to take hold of their youthful indecision.
READ IT
Hunter S. Thompson ©1999
Fiction; 224 pages
My friend, Skip, was the impetus for reading this book. Prior to reading The Rum Diary, I was largely uneducated in the canon of Thompson. All of my prior experiences with him were articles courtesy of Rolling Stone in high school and college. Honestly, I had never really felt compelled to read him like I have in the past for other writers.
The Rum Diary is largely based on Thompson's own experiences in San Juan, Puerto Rico as a journalist. Penned when he was 22, The Rum Diary seems to have been written by a much older, world weary man (ironically, it wasn't released until he was an old man). Fast paced and highly entertaining, there is a sense of disquietude and dissatisfaction throughout. Though each character seems to have goals and aspirations for their life, they are largely inept at figuring them out. Instead, because they are incapable of ascertaining anything concrete, they are obsessed with running, getting away...leaving the island for something, somewhere better.
It is, however, the stifling nature of the island that propels them (and the novel) forward. Each day was mechanical, lived because of a glaring lack of alternatives. They seemed to sate themselves and their inadequacies in booze, vainly hoping that sooner or later something had to give. In the absence of answers, life was lived (quite wildly at times) as they waited, like we all have, for a sense of direction to take hold of their youthful indecision.
READ IT
July 7, 2009
Nonlinear
The God of Small Things
Arundhati Roy ©1996
Fiction; 336 pages
Ostensibly the story of two fraternal twins growing up in India, The God of Small Things is much more, often a journey through language, culture, and characters. It is a difficult and different read, partly because of the culture it depicts, and partly because of the flowing, evocative language Roy uses. The story revolves around one fateful day during the twins' childhood, but skips back and forth throughout describing what happened in the years before and after that day and how it affected the other characters within the story. The title refers to how a number of small events can add up to have far-reaching consequences. Roy's characters all have deep, human flaws and are well-developed. The story carries political undertones and addresses various cultural issues within Indian culture, looking at the caste system and the squalor and discrimination faced by the Paravans, one of the untouchable castes, and the Communist party's activity in India in the 60s.
This book requires attention and persistence, as Roy frequently refers to phrases mentioned offhandedly in preceding chapters, or to concepts that are explained much later. Roy writes much of the book from a viewpoint sympathetic to a child's, burying within the story many references to twins' take on reality, which, not surprisingly, isn't always what is actually going on.
The language is gorgeous; Roy has a gift for describing a scene and is a terrific wordsmith. She is as much focused on creating atmosphere and imagery as advancing the story. Consequently, at times her writing is a little tedious and slow to advance the actual plot, so there are moments when the reader's patience is tested. If, however, you are willing to sit back and wait for the story to advance, then this book contains many gems and is a rewarding read.
Consider it.
Arundhati Roy ©1996
Fiction; 336 pages
Ostensibly the story of two fraternal twins growing up in India, The God of Small Things is much more, often a journey through language, culture, and characters. It is a difficult and different read, partly because of the culture it depicts, and partly because of the flowing, evocative language Roy uses. The story revolves around one fateful day during the twins' childhood, but skips back and forth throughout describing what happened in the years before and after that day and how it affected the other characters within the story. The title refers to how a number of small events can add up to have far-reaching consequences. Roy's characters all have deep, human flaws and are well-developed. The story carries political undertones and addresses various cultural issues within Indian culture, looking at the caste system and the squalor and discrimination faced by the Paravans, one of the untouchable castes, and the Communist party's activity in India in the 60s.
This book requires attention and persistence, as Roy frequently refers to phrases mentioned offhandedly in preceding chapters, or to concepts that are explained much later. Roy writes much of the book from a viewpoint sympathetic to a child's, burying within the story many references to twins' take on reality, which, not surprisingly, isn't always what is actually going on.
The language is gorgeous; Roy has a gift for describing a scene and is a terrific wordsmith. She is as much focused on creating atmosphere and imagery as advancing the story. Consequently, at times her writing is a little tedious and slow to advance the actual plot, so there are moments when the reader's patience is tested. If, however, you are willing to sit back and wait for the story to advance, then this book contains many gems and is a rewarding read.
Consider it.
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