hoipolloi

"The Brothers Karamazov" by Fyodor Dostoevsky

2009-06-27T16:43:00.001-07:00

I think it's season 2 in LOST where John Locke hands "Henry Gale", who we later come to know as Ben, a copy of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamzov as a way to pass the time. Since that moment, I've been intensely interested in reading the book, especially sinced I skipped reading it even though it was assigned in one of my college classes. It's huge, 770 pages, printed small. Who can blame me?

After some fishing around wikipedia, I've found that The Brothers Karamazov has attracted some pretty famous fans, including Albert Einstein and Sigmund Freud (Freud was practically drooling over the overt Oedipal storylines). So it would seem that the book, though long, is quite worth it.

I'm going to put myself out there and separate for a minute from the likes of Einstein and Freud, and the LOST writers who choose to include the book in the show for some reason (I'll mention what I think about that in a sec), and, gasp, say that I didn't particularly enjoy this book. It was long, meandering, full of religious rants and philosophical raves. In the end, I found about 200 pages of it really interesting, and I don't think I'd be hardpressed to sit through the other 500+ again, unless I was keen on some sort of torture. And I think the only reason it's in the show is that it echoes both Locke's and Ben's feelings of anger and hatred towards their respective fathers.

The book, if you care, is an intricate story that I'm too lazy to lay out in detail here. There are a couple of twisted love triangles, a family's very strained relationship, and three (or four, if you include the scary Smerdyakov) sons who all in some way want to kill their father. At the core of the book is the murder of the father and subsequent trial of his son, Dmitri Karamazov. I won't say whether he's guilty or not, so as not to spoil the surprise for you, but if you read it, this might well be the only thing that keeps you going. It was for me...

Themes abound in this novel, but how could they not. It's 700+ pages! Among the several philosophical inquiries into religion, ethics, and sacrifice, I think one or two discussions would have sufficed. Still, maybe this is a critique of someone who can't appreciate a long, sprawling novel, something with intricacies and details and sprawling discussion. So be it. I want my MTV.

The Karamazovs seem to be a microcosm of the world. It's fun to see them ruin themselves and strike back for salvation, but not if you like your time. There are so many cool covers for this one, too bad what's in between isn't enough to keep that interest going.

"Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell

2009-05-08T07:14:00.001-07:00

Outliers is Malcolm Gladwell's third book, and it's clear that his unique perspective, great writing, and ability to search outside the box has served him well. Gladwell is what I think of as a sociological writer. He looks for connections between behavior and society, and how they interact. In Tipping Point, that connection was the interaction of people spread ideas or diseases and how small things turn into huge wildfires. In Blinking Point, my least favorite of Gladwell's books (which I still liked considering), Gladwell explores the power of first instincts, and how usually we're right on but fail to listen to ourselves.

All told, Gladwell takes ordinary things and finds fascinating explanations. Then he follows that up with intriguing examples. Outliers is no different. Here, Gladwell investigates success. More specifically, he wants to get at those who are enormously successful: the founder of the internet, The Beatles, Bill Gates, hockey players, and so on. The fact that he can correlate their successes into sociological cues is amazing in itself, but he takes it one step further. Gladwell's goal isn't just to find why these people are successful, he wants to make the idea of their road to success easier to attain for many more people. Confused? That's because he explains it way better than I do.

Basically, Gladwell takes the usual success story: rags to riches, or self-made, or whatever independent hard work success story you can come up with, and adds to it. He doesn't deny the hard work these incredible individuals had to go through. However, he does add that it wasn't all them. It was a combination of the time they were born, the family they grew up in, the resources available to them, and the amount of practice they were able to bring in. And, oh, also important is the culture they came from.

It's really interesting stuff, and Gladwell handles it well. I personally have a hard time reading books that make cases on statistics, and that is my only gripe with pieces of Gladwell's argument. I worry sometimes that he's such a great writer that he's able to bend his resources to support his argument. But no matter, even if he is, I agree with him. Success is more than just us. I'd be nothing without my wife, my family, excellent access to books and knowledge, my upbringing, the fact that my college got Avid Editing systems the year I started (so I had plenty of time to hoard a bay), and a big helping of old fashioned luck. Right place, right time. Good mantra to have, I think.

Read the book. It's good. The cover is simple, too. Also good.

The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly

2009-04-24T06:25:00.000-07:00

This book was great!

I had been wanting to read The Book of Lost Things for a while, but it definitely came on my radar after a friend sent it to me to read. Even still, I let it sit on my shelf for months, and only recently had a chance to savor it. Mmmm, mmmm.

David is a young boy who loses his mother. He's sad and traumatized, trying to come to grips with the death, why it happened, and how to make sense of it in a world filled with violence and cruelty (the novel's set in London against the backdrop of World War II). On top of that, David's father develops a relationship with a nurse at his mother's hospital and they move to her big house in the country where they are to start their new family life together. David's Dad and stepmom are pregnant too, and he starts to feel more isolated and like a relic of a past life than part of his father's life.

On top of this, David suffers frequent blackouts, and books murmur to him at times. He loves to read, and only retreats further into books after his mother's death because it reminds him of her. He finds solace in the stories. And one night, through a crack in the stone garden wall, he enters another world, one filled with horror and gore, but also hopes of goodness. As David journeys through this world he confronts his mother's death, grapples with accepting his new family, and grows up. It is a terrifying, gory, and downright fantastic coming of age story.

Connolly has a deep respect for fairy tales, and uses them consistently here to forward his story. It's both what make the book unique and irresistible. I have not heard of him before this one, but he's on my list now. I will read more.

I recommend this book highly. It's got everything, and the cover is really cool, which usually means that the book will be good. Right?

Shakespeare: The World As Stage by Bill Bryson

2009-04-10T07:15:00.001-07:00

Alright Bryson, strike two. I was so excited to read A Walk in the Woods, about Bryson's attempt to walk the Appalachian Trail, and found it amazing, until he stopped walking halfway through the book. Then I was wowed and lost my socks over A Short History of Nearly Everything which made me so excited to get Shakespeare, because it's history and Shakespeare, so it can't be boring.

Swing and a miss.

The mantra of this book is: "There's not a lot we do know about Shakespeare." And the other mantra is: "And London at this time was going through the nth cycle of the plague, so it had this implication and that implication and sleep, sleep."

So, there's not a lot we do know about Shakespeare, but rest assured, every fact and statistic are brought up by Bryson. How many times he uses which word, how many known signatures there are of his name, and even twice he discusses how the bust above his grave was cleaned off and later repainted, leaving us with little idea of what Shakespeare actually looked like. Most of the book is spent (other than talking about the plague) bringing up what others have written about Shakespeare and then dispelling it as false with these words: but probably not.

I'm glad it was so short. It was a tough one to get through. You've got one more chance Bryson. Use it well...

The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis

2009-04-10T06:42:00.000-07:00

I love to geek out. If you're looking for a huge fan of The Lord of the Rings books, I'm your man. Harry Potter? Loved it. So I feel like it was only natural for me to gravitate towards The Chronicles of Narnia books. I mean C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien were buddies and met to discuss issues with their writing. And I was very satisfied. Not only were the books quick reads, but they were fantastic stories that ignited my imagination in a way a book hasn't done since Harry Potter.

I decided to blog all seven books together, mostly out of laziness, but also because I felt it would be easier to write about as a series than individual books. First off, the books can be read in several different orders. The two I know about are: 1) Chronologically by events that happen in Narnia, from conception to the end of that world, and 2) By publication date. I read them, as a recommendation (a friend who, given his interest, I wholly trust), in publication date order. Though we jump around in Narnia time, the story follows chronological time of all the visitors to Narnia (children in London), and we get to work our imaginative muscles a bit more, fitting all the pieces together, jumping back and forth between worlds.

Collectively, the Chronicles follow the journeys of three groups of kids into Narnia (minus The Horse and His Boy, a stand-alone Narnia story with no travel between worlds), each time being sent or called into Narnia to save the land from peril. They meet talking animals and witches and river-gods and talking trees, fauns, minotaurs, and the like in this amazing world. There's not a lot I'd like to say about the books other than that I thoroughly enjoyed them, and look forward to one day sharing them with a younger audience.

C. S. Lewis' influence by Christianity in the stories is directly evident but not so overpowering that you feel like you're reading the Bible. Aslan, the talking lion, is the creator and deliverer of Narnia, and that has obvious implications, but I think far more important and interesting, for all faiths, is the moral code the stories follow (especially for children). Only the purest of heart succeed in Narnia, with kindness and respect for all things.

Here's the order I liked the books in, and the order I read them in:
6 - The Magician's Nephew - Two children find a portal between the worlds, set free an evil queen, and witness the creation of Narnia by Aslan. Obvious LOST connections here, and the story was riveting on its own. I thoroughly enjoyed.
5 - The Horse and His Boy - A tale about a boy who doesn't know his heritage that winds up warning Narnia about the threat of invasion from the neighboring, dangerous Calormen. A talking horse sets him on his journey and accompanies him, and they meet a strange man in the land between Narnia and Calor.
3 - The Voyage of the Dawn Treader - Straight adventure story here. Lucy and Edmund return to Narnia with their cousin Eustace, and embark on an adventure to the end of the world. Among other things, Eustace turns into a dragon and learns a lot from it.
2 - Prince Caspian - The four children return to Narnia hundreds of years later Narnia-time to help save the land once again from Men gone awry. This one is still resonant today.
1 - The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - The classic. Lucy, Edmund, Peter, and Susan travel through a wardrobe in a Professor's house to the magical land of Narnia and save it from the White Witches eternal winter, with Aslan's help, of course.
4 - The Silver Chair - Eustace and his friend Polly embark on a quest to save Caspian's son from the enchantment of a beatiful witch who wants to regain control of Narnia and intends to use the young Caspian to do just that.
7 - The Last Battle - This one started to get too hokey on me until the last twenty pages or so, when religion became philosophy and the story became beatiful. An ending really can save a book.

They're all fantastic reads and I highly recommend them all. The covers are cool, but I like the older, vintage covers better than the movie edition. Enjoy

"The Braindead Megaphone" by George Saunders

2009-03-02T06:51:00.000-08:00

There's something about reading a book that's a collection of anything. A book of short stories, to me, feels like speed dating through multiple books. You have to prepare for each story, and it passes so fast but you have to find some meaning, but you don't want to spend too much time on it because there are other stories to be gotten to. The same thing happens with a book of essays, except there's not a lot of preparation that has to be done for an essay. You read it, it means, and you're done. On to the next. But for me, it's worse. With essays, if I don't find them interesting, I lose patience and interest very quickly.

Unfortunately, I think The Braindead Megaphone suffered for my short attention span. And I'll even take the brunt of the blame because this book was really mostly just a break from reading the Chronicles of Narnia series. Still, I did want to read it, and was looking forward to it, so I don't feel bad in the least saying that it was a disappointing read.

I've read other books of essays that I've completely loved. The most recent one that comes to mind is Chabon's Maps and Legends. I found myself totally engrossed in that book, looking forward to each essay and wishing each could go on forever, like I might be able to sit in Chabon's den and have five to eight hour conversations with him about his writing and interests (no, I haven't thought about this before; well, maybe a little).

George Saunders is a very funny guy with an amazing grasp of language, love of stories, and a clever eye for observation. Reading his essays on this basis alone is fun. You laugh. Laughing is good. And yet I got bored. Saunders essays turned from funny soapboxes into rambling rants about various subjects, and left me wishing and racing for the final paragraph. I found more often than not that I desperately wanted out of the current essay because reading it was like listening to the crazy guy on the streetcorner talk about the media.

I rarely learned anything from these essays, and from a book of essays, that's what I'm looking for. Some piece of insight, or some new way of approaching a subject. I just didn't find that here. Most everything I read I've heard about before. There was one essay, though, that caught my attention. The second to last essay in the book, called "Buddha Boy". Very interesting, and I would recommend reading that one because of it's sheer interestingness. Saunders wit combined with this experience makes for a perfect essay, one that informs, entertains, and leaves you feeling better and smarter than you did before you started. I won't summarize, just tease. It's about Saunders trip to write about a boy in Nepal that was meditating uninterrupted for seven months in the middle of a jungle. Some people called him the new Buddha. He wrote the article for GQ, check it out.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami

2009-01-27T18:52:00.000-08:00

Time and place, this theme recurs a lot with me. And it definitely affected how I viewed this memoir/ode to running by Murakami.

Disclaimer: I've not read any other Murakami. I do mean to, specifically Kafka on the Shore and Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but haven't yet. This just grabbed my attention and my wife got it for me for Christmas. Points for her.

Second disclaimer: On my run this past weekend, I aggravated my IT Band, and so I need to take a couple of weeks off to let it heal and get loose so that I can run without a sharp, shooting pain in my knee. I was very disappointed. I started reading this book right after my, I-don't-want-to-call-it-one-but-for-efficiency-purposes-I-will, injury.

Murakami comes off to me as a little arrogant. He thought one day that he wanted to write a novel. So he did. And now he's very successful. He figured, "Hey, I should go running", and so he did, and now he's completed 26 marathons in as many years, with, as he puts it, no injuries. He doesn't stretch because he doesn't need to, and runs six days a week.

I almost threw up, on my bum knee, from all of this.

Truth be told, it was a great book to read. What I take for Murakami's arrogance at times turns in to a life-affirming book with frequent insights into the way life is, into the choices and sacrifices we make, and how to best deal with those choices. He is uber-passionate about running, and it's nice to go along for the ride with someone so gung-ho for working out. Still, at the end of the day, I found myself wishing Murakami had less time, or I had more, because it seems that he is able to live the life and has been able to for some time because he just does.

There's no pity-party here. Murakami talks about why he loves running, why it has worked for him. It's actually alot like reading a blog about running by a famous author. There is relatively little insight into his life, but he goes to some cool places to run and writes about them fantastically.

The cover's cool, I'm glad I read it, if not just for the inspirational quotes my wife wrote on the inside. Maybe I'll give it another go after my IT Band heals, and we'll see how it strikes me then, huh?

Until then, if you do, keep running.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon

2009-01-27T18:35:00.000-08:00

I love this book. I love this book.

Fan-freaking-tastic, from start to end, I love this book.

I haven't read another of Chabon's books other than the non-fiction collection of essays Maps and Legends (which I also loved), but now I'm definitely adding a huge amount of his novels to my pile. I have to be honest here. About three or four years ago, I picked up Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay from the library and put it down after the first few pages. I guess I was afraid that a novel about comic books wouldn't be able to hold my attention for the duration of the novel, which (I peeked) was many many pages long. I was afraid of getting bored.

Time and place. I think that should be my motto, because when I picked it up this time I couldn't put it down. It got so bad that I started to wish off sleep and contact with other people just so I could lose myself in the world of Kavalier and Clay. Everything felt so real, and happy, sad, or just being, I wanted to be there, hanging out in 1940s New York with the creators of the best fictional comic book hero I've ever come across: The Escapist.

I don't think I can even do justice to explain the plot. Joe Kavalier escapes from Prague only to find himself trapped in the chains of getting his family out after him, which proves to be a very difficult task given the escalating situation in Germany. Along with Sammy Clay, they begin to create and write several different best-selling comic books, making their bosses rich in the process. And while they make a decent enough living in the process, they aren't able to break free from the tyranny of their jobs and the contracts they've signed. And then there's the beautiful Rosa Saks, who becomes entangled in both Kavalier and Clay's lives in so many ways.

Golems (specifically, their metaphorical relation to the creative process), magic, love, loss, tragedy, adventure. These are only some of the things that stand out as I sit and quickly go over how this novel affected me. Larglely, I was affected by the notion of escaping, and how that plays out in many of the character's lives, in so many ways.

Chabon does so many things with this novel. He entertains, he inspects, he elevates the comic books in the story from something most people view as juvenile to a multi-layered reflection of the main character's lives, worries, and cause of their problems. It's, simply said, just brilliant.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough, I only hope that I can put off reading it again long enough to get through some of the other books on my list. It's one of my all-time favorites, and I look forward to enjoying it again.

"Bottomfeeder" by Taras Grescoe

2009-01-09T08:25:00.000-08:00

I put off reading Bottomfeeder for the better part of a year. My wife heard the author, Taras Grescoe, explain the book in an interview and recommended the book to me. I bought it, but decided I wasn't ready to read it yet because I wasn't ready to give up the seafood I love so much...

And one day, a couple weeks ago, I decided that the time had come. It was now or never. I must learn the woes of the ocean, and live by the code or rot in fish bowels.

I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. I don't have to give up a lot of the seafood I do like. Crabs, calamari, and lobster are still okay to eat, as long as you know where they're coming from, and there are now several other types of fish I can't wait to try (mackerel, oysters, and mullet). I'm also about to rediscover sardines, a fish I remember well from my childhood, eating out of a can filled with delicous mustard sauce (sardines, anchovettas, and a few other small species of fish are actually one of the few sustainable fisheries still existing in this world).

The book itself took some getting used to. With chapters divided by the places Grescoe traveled to to try a local specialty of fish, the book started off feeling like a gastronomic travel guide written by a pessimist. Nearly every major fish stock in most oceans and seas is overfished, and pollution and human contaminants, along with a major rise in fish farms, are contributing to the dwindling stocks of wild fish (that, obviously, are much better for you than their farmed counterparts). The first half of the book, for me, felt like a depressing novel that I didn't want to read anymore. And then, it just got better. Grescoe continued on his journey and visited some places I have a personal attachment to (British Colombia) and researched and ate some seafood I've also always been interested in: shrimp, salmon, cod, tuna, and now, sardines.

I'd recommend reading parts of this book (the chapters on small fish, shrimp, salmon, and the appendix), but by no stretch of the imagination do you need to read the whole thing unless you love reading about food. I love eating food, and like to spend my time doing that rather than delving into the sensations of said wonders...

If you're a seafood eater and you happen upon this post, I must put this out there because not enough people know it: don't eat farmed salmon. Farmed salmon are spreading disease to wild fish stocks and they're terrribly bad for you, filled with antibiotics, carcinogens, and artificial food coloring to make the meat red like their wild counterparts. Also, be wary of the shrimp you eat. If it's imported, it's probably affecting entire villages of people as well as devastating mangrove forests.

Eat sardines. Sardines purchased at Trader Joe's are sustainably fished (I checked). And if you eat tuna, make sure you get the "chunk light" tuna, which is a type of tuna known as skipjack that is not suffering like the bluefin tuna or high in mercury like regular tuna.

And this website's a great one for seafood choices: www.seafoodwatch.org. I've been using it for a while and it really helps one navigate the fish aisle and menu's at restaurants. There are too many restaurants that pay no attention to the state of our oceans, but if we don't wise up soon, all that may be left, according to Grescoe, are Jellyfish salads.

Happy eating of fish!

The Year in Review and Preview

2008-12-31T08:45:00.001-08:00

This year has been an interesting one. It started out full of promise, of hope, and slowly peppered off until few lights shined and I was screaming for 2009 to come. And in the coming year I hope just the opposite is true: that it takes the tread a bit to catch on, but when it does, I hope we really move.

Last year I read some really great books, including No Country For Old Men, Short History of Nearly Everything, The Invention of Morel, Ham on Rye, The Wild Trees, Iron John, The Assault on Reason, Watchmen, The Turn of the Screw, and of course, my year's favorite, Maps and Legends.

It was also a very introspective year for me, I think. I read several books on meditation and eastern religions. Alchemy, which has always intrigued me, found it's way onto my nightstand again. And Iron John gave me pause and insight into the plight and plunder of man proper. I'm glad last year took this tone and intend to continue that into the future. My search is far from over, and it's too fun and interesting to stop.

After the holidays, my reading shelf fills up faster than my waistline, and my dresser is practically throwing up books at the moment. I didn't get to nearly as many books as I wanted to last year, but I don't think I ever will. I still think I'll feel slave to a list if I come up with one, so I can't do that, because I always need room for innovation and books that may crop up, whether they be new or old. Still, there are a few that I do want to read this year, so I may as well list those out, as broad goals.

They are:

The Chronicles of Narnia series
The Brothers Karamazov
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
Watership Down
The Book of Lost Things

This is in no way a conclusive list. I'd like to read "The Fountainhead" and "Atlas Shrugged", but that may be one too many thick books this year. And I'm also hoping to get to some David Foster Wallace, who I sadly overlooked until his death, but have since become very intrigued by. I picked up his book of essays, "Consider the Lobster", last night and hope to read that sometime this year too.

Here's to hoping 2009 is a much more prosperous, less shaky, and surprising year. I wish everyone out there in the internets a Happy New Year and hope for true happiness for you and yours, no matter where or what you are.

Read on!

"World War Z" by Max Brooks

2008-12-31T08:42:00.001-08:00

I don't have a lot to say about this book and I don't intend to spend a lot of time giving my thoughts on it.

I don't think I'm totally into the alternate reality of zombies. I can't buy into it.

Brooks novel is a mish-mash of "collected stories" from around the globe recounting the World War against the outbreak of the living plague, or zombies. It's filled with interesting, gross stories, but is so disjointed and the characters so underdeveloped that it never gained hold in my hands. I never became more than just superficially involved.

I want to read something good!

"Valis" by Philip K. Dick

2008-12-31T08:29:00.000-08:00

Reading Valis is like taking an extended vacation to the recesses of the mind. It truly makes one feel as though one is on some sort of trip, psychedelically speaking, which could be good or bad, depending on your intentions. For me, the trip got to be a bit long.

This is my second Dick reading experience, and I'm not sure if I'll pick him up again. Not because he's not a great writer. He is, he's very readable and his ideas are intriguing, but because I just don't find myself getting into him, not the way most Dick fans seem to.

Of course, I say that knowing I probably will pick him up again. His contribution to science fiction is too important to overlook. His novels too interesting to look past. So when I say I won't read another Dick novel, I say that with the best of intentions.

Valis is about God. More specifically, it's directly based on Dick's self-described experience with a "transcendentally rational mind." The story follows the experience of Horselover Fat, a schizophrenic compartment of Dick's actual self, as he follows a quest to find the messiah after a pink light that he thinks is God tells him how to save his son's life.

The novel rambles and raves about the nature of religion, makes compelling arguments about sanity, insanity, rational and irrational, and would probably be considered a legitimate study of theology if it didn't feel so drug-induced. I enjoyed the book, very much so, and it did make me think. Dick's quest is one to be admired and sought after, but I don't think I can read another. I don't have enough brain cells left.

Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut

2008-12-03T07:15:00.001-08:00

I miss Kurt Vonnegut. A lot. His books are witty and clever and they never fail to turn the world on its head, challenge our views, or reinvigorate life as we may never know it.

Bluebeard is probably not one of his better-known books, but as I was explaining to people while I was reading it, "It's Vonnegut". And even mediocre Vonnegut is better than most stuff floating around out there. That really is saying a lot.

I didn't immensely enjoy Bluebeard, but there were a few nuggets of wisdom in it, a few insights I agreed with. And, of course, I laughed a bit, I felt sad a bit, and I thought of my favorite Vonnegut-ism a bit: and so it goes. So, I guess, I missed him a bit too.

The novel is an autobiography about an Armenian artist who hung out with the crowd of Abstract Expressionistic painters, including Jackson Pollock. But it's more about the nature of art, the obscene price of art, and the beauty of art all at the same time. The great thing about Vonnegut is that when he says something that strikes a chord, it really strikes a chord. I especially liked his view on artists and communities. Now that we are worldwide, only a few artists are needed to satisfy the masses, but that leaves several other less talented people who would have sufficed in a village. Sad but true, even more so today, with the internet.

I don't know if I'd recommend this book to a lot of people. Artists, writers, and creative types will all get something out of it. If you can hold out, the ending is wonderful and beautiful and actually well-worth it, one of Vonnegut's best...

"The Turn of the Screw" by Henry James

2008-10-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

Henry James classic ghost story is on my "LOST" list of to read books, and, it being Halloween time, I thought it a perfect time to pick it up. And it was too, the chills provided here are slow but deliberate, much like a fog that creeps up on an evil night.

The story centers on a governess hired to watch over two charming children. The governess instantly falls in love with them, and believes they can do no wrong. Then she begins seeing apparitions, evil disturbing images that she finds resemble and very well might be the children's old caregivers, and she suspects that not only can the children see them, but that they might be in league with them. (Shivers!) Though the story is told by the governess, you never quite know if the ghosts are real or imagined, and as the weather turns cold, the children get mischevious, and the fog settles in, the air of disturbia wraps its warm cloak around the characters until you feel practically suffocated in its embrace.

James' writing is from another era, the Victorian, Gothic era. It is both beautiful and bold and very hard to understand. I found myself at times wondering what I had just read, and rereading, just to catch the meaning, and I think this took a bit from my enjoyment of the story. It's like being woken up by a cat in the middle of the night so you never quite get a full night's rest. Still, what James does is slowly layer the story with complexities that leave you unsure of what exactly happened, as if you encountered a ghost yourself and were unsure of whether it was real or not.

It's a fun book to read, delightfully twisted, and what better time to read it than the spookiest time of the year, when the weather turns and leaves die and the cold fog settles in late at night.

"Siddhartha" by Herman Hesse

2008-10-13T08:41:00.000-07:00

Most of the books I read I like. It's hard because I've been recommended so many books and I'm always on the lookout for a new read that I'm usually excited by whatever book ends up in my lap. Sure, occasionally I'll cross a book that's bad, terrible bad, curl up in a ball and cry for your time back bad, but those are so few and far between that it's almost worth it. Or I just stop reading and donate it.

Siddhartha was a fantastic book. Big surprise, right?! Fantastic, though, for reasons I rarely see in liking a story. Every once in a while there is a book that you read, or a story you hear or see, that changes your outlook on a situation. Siddhartha, here and now, is that book for me. It was simply amazing. Perfectly clear and concise, the story rolled along. Reading it was like sitting and listening to the ocean.

Years ago I read The Alchemist, and like many other readers was profoundly affected by its messages. Without sounding hokey, the book was really insightful, and very provocative with its outlook that I've still not forgotten how it affected me and still adopt a philosophy very closely with its message. I've been meaning to reread it, but haven't had the chance.

A friend recommended Siddhartha to me last year, so I finally got around to reading it. Since The Alchemist, I have not been affected or found a book so spiritually inspirational. Its themes are perfectly in line with what bounces around in my small head most of the time, though much more clear and interesting, and it provides a perfect example of a life that is altogether human.

Siddhartha was the name of the real Buddha, but Hesse's Siddhartha is purely fictional. His life mirrors the Buddha's, but he takes his own path. The Siddhartha in the novel starts out as a member of the upper class that leaves the wealth of his family for a life of spiritual study with the shramanas, which are a band of traveling priests. He winds up leaving the shramanas with his friend Govinda to follow and meet the Buddha, a being he finds supremely spiritual and calls a saint. Siddhartha leaves Govinda behind because he realizes that he cannot find enlightenment in the Buddha's teachings, that his enlightenment path is different. He winds up becoming a wealthy businessman so he can learn the art of love from Kamala, and becomes sidetracked by the "child people", people wrapped up in their own life. Finally, he tires of this life and meets a ferryman where he ultimately finds enlightenment, but his path is not an easy one.

What I find most inspiring in Hesse's beautifully crafted story is its realism. Hesse does not make Siddhartha some mythical being, he makes him human. Siddhartha suffers through things I've suffered through, and he suffers through them again and again. Hesse shows life as a recurring cycle of events, something I find to be very true, but with every recurrence, Siddhartha grows a little more until, ultimately, he finds enlightenment. If I haven't said so, it's great, and sad, and yes, enlightening.

The simplicity of the cover is only half as simple as the inspiring story inside. If only I could do the lotus position!

"Maps and Legends" by Michael Chabon

2008-10-01T07:41:00.000-07:00

I'm currently in Purgatory. I wake up, sleep through my day, and at night I flip open the pages of my latest book and weep. All because of Maps and Legends. It's just too good to follow.

In short, Michael Chabon's book of essays about everything from genre fiction (great essays!) to inspiration and the process of writing his early novels (fantastic!) to memoirs laced with lies to prove a point (get this guy a Guinness! brilliant!) has left me wanting more. Now I want a good mystery, a well thought out map, a journey through some fantastic land while being dragged along by carefully selected prose that brings the story to life.

I think the best books, and stories, inspire. Many of my revelations and enthusiasms have come from either films or books, be that a good or bad thing. And the best thing about Chabon's Maps and Legends is that it inspired me. Not only do I want to read a good mystery, or go back and walk through the forest of Mirkwood with Bilbo and Frodo, I'd love to write something. And even if it never sees the light of day, I'm thankful, because the fire that books like this ignite, the creative spirit they spark, is worth much more than the jacket price.

I say read this book. Not only does it have a really cool cover, what's in between isn't bad either.

"Run Less, Run Faster" by Bill Pierce, Scott Murr, and Ray Moss

2008-09-13T18:00:00.000-07:00

This book dispels criticisms of not running every day in favor of more efficient workouts and a running program supported by quality cross training. The authors lay out specifically how to train, why to train, and why it works, while at the same time offering sage advice to runners new and old. Their website has many of the helpful tables featured in their book, and if you want more in-depth advice and training guides, you can check out their book from the library.

Like me!!!

"Watchmen" by Alan Moore and John Higgins

2008-09-13T17:43:00.000-07:00

Graphic novels are different. The blend of image and words to convey story results in a totally unique medium that's not quite cartoon, not quite novel, but the best of both. Watchmen is one of the better graphic novels I've read. It starts out slow and builds steam, until it's a giant boulder rolling down a giant hill with so much velocity and power that it became nearly impossible to put down. The story involves a group of normal people that dress up in costume and fight crime. And as we learn their history, we are following a new mystery involving the deaths of the costumed heroes. It's a brilliant subversion on the idea of a hero and is so with philosophy and interesting ideas, both in picture and words. I really enjoyed the character of Dr. Manhattan, and the image of him creating a giant clockwork out of the Martian sand, as well as some more insight into LOST.

Who watches the Watchmen? We all should. I highly recommend this fantastic graphic novel.

The Assault on Reason by Al Gore

2008-08-24T17:21:00.001-07:00

A couple days ago, waiting to be seated for dinner, my wife and I were talking politics and I said, "You know who I hope Obama picks as his VP? Al Gore."

Why, you and she may ask...

Because I love Al Gore, in a he-was-the-best-president-this-country-never-had kind of way.

I mean, take The Assault on Reason, Gore's indictment of politicians having to spend more time searching for funding for 30 second TV campaign commercials than debating whether or not to go to war in Iraq, his full-on critique of the Bush administration, and his pronounced love for this country. The guy is a patriot, he is an American, the way it should be, not the way it's become.

It's sad when 10 years ago the country was crying for impeachment because Clinton lied about cheating on his wife (not that that's okay, I'm just saying) but no one even utters the word at Bush's outright lies about WMDs in Iraq. And that's just the beginning. The turn this country has taken in politics is beyond disappointing. Al Gore knows it, and he still has hope.

What's not to like?

Read this book. This is required reading if you are voting, whether you're Democrat, Republican, or neither, read it. Gore's views are bi-partisan, he's making a claim to both sides, and he gives both sides a chance. His book is enlightening and invigorating. It's books like this that make me hopeful that a democracy can be what it's meant to: not people agreeing but intelligently disagreeing, and openly debating about the best way to go. When Gore mentions moveon.org, he mentions rightmarch.com, it's Republican counterpart. He sees the need for diverse opinions in this country. It's just like farming, if there's only one crop, it's way more susceptible to pests and disease than if there are a variety of crops.

What Gore's against is the claim to faith and fear and things that make reason seem impossible. We need open debate, transparency in the government, and an electorate that doesn't take democracy for granted.

Al Gore was not picked as Obama's VP nor was he probably even considered, but he is still a very worthy American. I'm a fan, huge fan, and have the utmost respect for what he's trying to do. Now he just needs enough people to listen.

Chi Running by Danny Dreyer

2008-08-24T17:12:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I can get a bit obsessive. I recently got back into running, and as with any sport (especially running) there is a learning curve. My muscles ached, I got a minor case of shin splints, and even now my calf has some minor aches where it attaches to the achilles tendon after I run.

Naturally, I turned to books for the answer, and Chi Running was my first taste of that.

The idea: stand straight up, makes sure your posture is good, arms relaxed, tilt your hips back so that they are level and you're engaging your lower abdominal muscles. Now, when you run, tilt your whole body forward like a gas pedal, move your legs in circular, wheel-like motions, and relax. That's Chi Running.

On top of that, you're constantly checking in with your body, keeping your posture straight, and taking it as easy as you can. That's Chi Running. Dreyer claims it is a guaranteed injury-free way to run, and I can't knock him for it, the idea makes sense.

While the book was an interesting read, it interested me more in the mindful approach to running than did the form. I run fine, I just did too much too fast when I started and I need to ease up. Running is a high impact sport, you have to start small. Baby steps, or baby runs, right?

Still, if you're a runner or you're interested in the sport, I'd recommend this book. You'll get something out of it, whether it's form or mindfulness (body sensing) or both is up to you, but it's a worthwhile read nonetheless. I'm just curious how it stacks up against the other running books that my obsession has led me to. We'll see.

"The Botany of Desire" by Michael Pollan

2008-08-06T17:33:00.000-07:00

Of the many people who write about food, I enjoy reading Michael Pollan the most. I'm biased though, because it was his Omnivore's Dilemma that got me all up in arms over food in the first place. And since that book has literally changed the way I think about food (hint, read it! read it!), naturally I was drawn to this one, which after my wife got it for me as a gift, I had absolutely no excuse to read.

Written years before his foray into how food gets from farm to plate, The Botany of Desire feels like the natural precursor to Omnivore's Dilemma. In it, you are introduced to Pollan's love of plants, gardening, and his witty and smart writing that keep you engulfed in what you are reading. Here, Pollan follows four plants, and makes the argument that they have shaped human culture just as much as we've shaped them, thus exploiting us humans (monkey sounds here) for their own selfish desires.

First there's the apple, whose five seeds in each core will grow trees with apples that taste nothing like their parent, found their way around the country in the form of Johnny Appleseed, who actually was a real person, and exploited the pre-industrial desire for sweetness through grafting, and became the successful snack of pre-sugar times. Pollan then delves into the lure of the beauty of the lily and its power to start a war over its cultivation. He writes about his own short experience growing marijuana and the intoxicating power of that plant, as well as its ability to overcome legal boundaries and still be the largest cash crop of the current market. And finally, he investigates the control of a crop like the potato, a crop that was so easy to grow it fed and wiped out a the Irish nation when it caught some deadly fungus. Pollan experiments with growing a genetically modified potato and, through that, explores an interesting avenue of developing bio-science that scares me to think what will be next.

Written with a love of plants beyond that of a simple passerby, one can tell that Pollan eats and breathes this stuff. He contemplates large amounts of his day to growing and thinking about food, which ultimately lends a biased argument to his claim that plants shape us as much as we shape them. I felt like a large amount of the book was a history lesson for each of the plants with the same conclusion: it was all the plant's doing.

I, on the other hand, don't think we're all that innocent. It's true that, above ourselves, there is a delicate game of survival of the fittest going on between plants satisfying our desires and moving on because of that and, over time, becoming a dominant species. But I'd be hard-pressed to be convinced that an apple hypnotized some pioneer into grafting hundreds of trees to meet its own selfish demands.

Still, Pollan's book is an excellent read, and it only gets better as the pages turn. It's kind of like good wine, that other plant that's rooted itself into nearly every culture on this planet, it gets better with age. I'm a huge fan of Pollan, if you can't tell, I gobbled this book up, and I'm hungry for more still. Reading Pollan is like dining at an organinc, local ingredients restaurant. If you haven't done it yet, you should. Just to try.

The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares

2008-07-06T13:16:00.000-07:00

I love short novels. If they suck, you only wasted a couple of hours of your life (and usually they don't suck nearly as much as movies or TV, so it's still time better spent in my opinion), and if they're good, they're really good.

The Invention of Morel was great, fantastic, wonderful. And at 100 pages, it has to be one of the more enjoyable books this year, because I know, with a few hours time, I'll be able to enjoy it over and over again. It's short but layered in a way that every reading, I can tell, will provide new insight into the story.

I'd been meaning to read this book for quite some time, as well as some Jorge Luis Borjes, who comes highly recommended from a couple of blogs that I read, and so when I saw this at the book store, I had to pick it up, along with a couple by Borges that I'm excited about.

Anyways, Casares and Borjes were really good friends in their time, and since they are considered masters of fiction (I've heard nothing but good things about both of them) I had high expectations. They were met.

The Invention of Morel is about a man enjoying his isolation on a remote island until some people show up and force him into hiding (he's a criminal in hiding on the island, and the only human their until the visitors come). He's upset at first until he sees a woman that he falls in love with. What follows is an imaginative story about love, eternity, and complete mystery.

I don't want to give away any of the plot because the story itself is quite beautiful. The characters and the island are, in the best sense, simple. Since everything is simple, it's complicated, get it? And so The Invention of Morel becomes more than just a love story, more than just a mystery, more than simple adventure. It becomes legend, myth, and somehow it's more real than any reality I know, because the themes and ideas in this short novel are ethereal, they're true on another plane, a plane we rarely get a glimpse into when we read or write or watch or hear stories.

It's what I'm always searching for, at least, in some form or fashion. And when I find it I like it.

I like book covers too, and this one was cool.

The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick

2008-07-06T12:59:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in the middle of Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle, I started thinking about LOST. I know, weird, right. And I started to get a little scared. Will it be possible for me to ever read a book again and not think about the crazy interconnected web of characters the TV show has made pop culture?

Thankfully, I can safely say, yes. Even after fleeting moments of similarity, I was able to dissociate myself from the TV show I call my favorite and read the book for what it is: a blistering alternate reality story with sensational ideas and philosophical puzzles that are plenty of fun and interesting in their own right.

And even though there are several interconnecting stories tightly weaved throughout this book (some more than others), that was the only similarity to LOST, and it really wasn't much of a similarity as it goes in telling story. (The convention is not new, even pre-Pulp Fiction).

What I'm trying to say, though not well (it's Sunday, the end of a three day weekend, that's my excuse) is that The Man in the High Castle stands quite well on it's own, and though it may not completely hold up after a few decades, I can see why Dick is a master of his form. He has this way of taking a story and elevating it by keeping everything real, down to the smallest details.

It's in the 1960s, twenty years after World War II, Japan controls the western portion of what's formerly known as the United States, Germany the Eastern. Everyone uses the I Ching, and Germany has become a dominant technological force. There is a new caste system, with new leaders, and new slaves, and the world is a different place. Of course, it should be. But what Dick does well is imagine a world rooted in our own, so that nothing is outrageous, so that I, the reader, can buy his alternate reality, delve into it, get wrapped into it, and go completely crazy with his storytelling by the end of the novel.

I enjoyed this book, though it wasn't one of my absolute favorites. I found parts of the novel tedious but was rewarded in others with exceptional writing and a plot conceptualized by a fantastic mind. The alternate reality of the novel is enough on its own, but Dick adds into the mix a good bit of philosophy, current affairs, and religion to make things even more interesting. And then he proceeds, as all great writers should, to confuse the living piss out of you.

Read this book. You'll feel better about yourself.

"King, Warrior, Magician, Lover" by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette

2008-06-20T08:50:00.000-07:00

My reading theme this year seems to be "pairs." This is my companion piece to Iron John. A friend lent it to me after we were discussing Robert Bly, and since I'm very interested in Jung, it sounded like a win win.

King, Warrior, Magician, Lover is about the shared archetypes of humans, what Jung referred to as the collective unconscious. These four types show up in stories, myths, and religions for as far back as knowledge of our species reaches, and it is very easy to relate to what the authors are talking about because the archetypes are so relevant.

The argument is quite the same as Iron John's, in that most men are stuck in boy psychology, or in stunted versions of these four archetypes, and the authors point out examples of each. It's because of the lack of positive male models, or Kings, Warriors, Magicians, and Lovers, in present day society, that we have so many problems in the world. Leaders who don't consider the good of everyone, wars fought without conscience, and abusive relationships. Men aren't just "tough guys", and being a man doesn't mean not talking about your feelings, it means lots of things, many which are not obvious because of a lack of initiation.

What the book does is give descriptions of each of the poles of these archetypes and their infantile counterparts, then it gives practical applications on how to access these important archetypes. It's a great book, and actually a great follow-up to Iron John. I'd recommend both, though I'm sure there's plenty of literature out there on these topics to broaden your scope a little. Either way, if you're a man and you are interested in learning and furthering yourself. I highly recommend these books. To borrow a line from one of my favorite radio shows, "They're good for your constitution!"

"The Third Policeman" by Flann O'Brien

2008-06-20T08:30:00.000-07:00

In the wake of the Season 4 Finale of LOST I've been searching for stuff to keep my mind occupied and off of what may happen in the final two seasons of my favorite show. Which basically means I've frantically been trying to come up with an explanation for the whole mystery of everything on that show.

Okay, it's not that dire. I can wait to find out, in fact, that's part of the fun. But, really, in the meantime, I need to keep myself occupied. Luckily, the show is so rich with references that there is no shortage of cool stuff to read and find fun references in the show.

The producers, among other things, have planted several well-chosen books throughout the episodes, and Damon Lindeloff, one of the creators of Lost, has stated that the one book that had the most influence on him in the writing process is The Third Policeman, which, he says, is because you find out at the end that the main character has been dead for the bulk of the novel.

He didn't give anything away, if anything, knowing that the main character was dead shed a little light on this confusing novel. But not much. The narrator and main character, unnamed throughout the novel, has killed a man in a botched robbery and when he goes back to collect the money, everything changes. Suddenly he finds himself in a two-dimensional police station facing mind-bending riddles by three bizarre and over-weight detectives. He discovers that he has a soul and that its name is Joe, that, in this world, people turn into bikes by way of the Atomic Theory, he can reach eternity, ask for anything he wants and it will appear (though he cannot take it with him), relates everything he sees to the fictional philosophy of a man named De Selby (whose work the main character has catalogued extensively, and is partially the reason for the murder), and that nothing is what it seems.

The back flap of The Third Policeman claims it as solidifying O'Brien as one of Ireland's great comic geniuses. I didn't laugh or find any of the situations of the novel funny, but they were extraordinary. If by comic they mean surreal and kafka-esque (yes! I used that word!), then they would be dead on.

There are a multitude of mind-bending puzzles in this novel, not the least of which involve the second policeman, who has invented several objects "too small to see" and boxes that make men crazy and things full of colors that can't be described by any words we have for colors. The novel is, if nothing else, full of imagination and vigor. That I liked.

As for fans of the show, you'll notice a few similarities, which I'll leave open if you want to read it (I don't want to give all the details away - plus, my wife hasn't seen past season 3 and I don't want to give anything away). I will say though that the influence for Jacob's character is quite clear, as is the ability for the Island to produce visions for each of its visitors.

And I've got a theory on Lost now too, one that I won't be disappointed with if it's true. Mark this one of the long list of Lost-inspired books to read. Among the next on my list are The Dark Tower series by Stephen King, Valis by Philip K. Dick, The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Watership Down by Adams, and The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.

All have cool covers.

"The Conde Nast Traveler Book of Unforgettable Journeys" Great Writers on Great Places

2008-06-04T18:41:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a lot of articles lately about how vacation isn't going to be much of one this year. High gas prices make road trips hard and plane fares even harder to cope with, and the price of everything seems to be going up.

So if you're not taking a vacation, I've the solution. Read this book!

You'll be able to go anywhere (sort of like the Reading Rainbow, or perhaps by way of...). And, oh, the places you'll go.

The Big Island of Hawaii, Iceland, The Himalayas, a happy jaunt around France, to the mystical world of Ethiopia, the famous but elusive city of Jinn in Jordan. You'll relax in Georgia and set out on a dangerous safari in Tunisia.

This book is a collection of articles from the Conde Nast magazine over the past several years. I've never read Conde Nast before, but I gather that it's a pretty good magazine, and this collection in particular is well worth the time. The only gripe I have is that it sometimes seemed like the writers were traveling very luxuriously, and were accustomed to that sort of travel, something I find hard to relate to. Still, it rarely detracts from the places, and the places are quite amazing. Each article is even followed up with tips for traveling in those particular parts of the world.

And even if you don't read it, the cover is well worth it. You can stare at the tiny drawings and imagine yourself in other parts of the world for hours and hours on end. It's a great way to kill time. Trust me.

"A Short History of Nearly Everything" by Bill Bryson

2008-06-04T18:17:00.000-07:00

I can't even begin to say how much I enjoyed this book.

After a fair amount of disappointment in A Walk In the Woods a few years ago (he didn't finish the Appalachian Trail, a feat that disappointed me), I decided not to read any more Bryson for the time being, even though many people had recommended him.

And so a few weeks ago I checked this one out from the library, plodding it home like some sort of homework assignment, promising myself that I'd at least start it, but I didn't have to finish it. I'd give it a shot, but if he decided to take a rocket ship to the moon and ended up backing out, I would definitely be writing a letter. Without even starting, my hopes were not high.

It was a Big Bang (pun intended), filled with a whole bunch of knowledge, clever insights, and, well, history of the earth and universe. If I were a teacher in any sort of social sciences, this would definitely be required reading - it's far more interesting and effective than any textbook I've ever picked up (and readable). I couldn't put it down.

What Bryson does is take something we all have a passing interest in, science, and make it fun and understandable at the same time. He introduces all the eccentric characters, mentions long lost facts that most people overlook, and explains all the difficult concepts in a very easy-to-grasp sort of way. From the first page I was hooked, and my imagination was buzzing with ideas.

I'm sure you're interested now, so the obvious question is, What will you learn?

Well, tons of great stuff, to be sure. Like everything we know about how the universe started and some theories on it's expansion (some scientists think the universe expands and contracts infinitely, like breathing), the vastness of space, concepts of physics (including a brush-up on Newton and Einstein, both interesting fellows), the history of life on this planet (from bacteria to trilobites to dinosaurs to us...and what may be beyond). You'll learn everything you've ever wanted to know about nearly everything.

And then, if you're like me, you'll forget it all. But it will have inspired and excited you so much that you won't be able to sleep but for the buzzing of science fiction ideas in your head. The kind that kept you up at night when you were younger, when you would just wonder about, well, stuff, and when that stuff was still new and untouched by textbooks and school.

Read this book.

"Iron John" by Robert Bly

2008-05-15T17:36:00.000-07:00

First, a story, and it will tie in later. I bought this book at a little used bookshop called "The Iliad" in North Hollywood. It's in the middle of a shady neighborhood, the kind of place you don't want to go at night, which is when we went. It's filled to the brim with books, so stacked that walking in is at once pleasing and overwhelming. The Iliad is not a place to go to browse. You go there to buy, with a list in hand, else you'll never leave.

So my wife and I were browsing (see! bad idea!) and I decided to see if they had a couple of books. The first, Iron John, he had and grabbed, but when I said the second book, he gave me a look. A what kind of fella are you sort of look. The book I was inquiring for was Eat, Pray, Love.

"Never heard of it," he said, the guy is a little older with a wiry frame, seems generally disinterested in everything but baseball and, I imagine, books, but you would never guess he reads, his disposition screamed of ignorance. "What's it about?"

"I'm not too sure," I replied, "but I think it's about this woman who travels through Italy and India rediscovering herself. Or something." That "or something" was because the look I was now getting was like I was some sort of alien, like I was asking for cereal.

"Forget it," I said. I bought the book and we left. Great bookstore, horrible people.

Iron John is "a book about men," as it says on the cover, which is possibly why the old man at the counter knew where to find it (he had read it?) and gave me the evil eye when I asked about Eat, Pray, Love (old man's confusion to younger man's ambivilance of reading choices?), I'll never know. It is, indeed, a book about men, and a relatively informing book about men. Robert Bly proposes that many modern men haven't gone through an initiation into manhood, mostly due to the evolution in science and the dissolution of hunter-gatherer societies. Men aren't supposed to be this dominating creature that doesn't feel (i.e. bookstore guy), nor is he supposed to be this completely sensitive thing with no sense of himself (i.e. opposite of bookstore guy). This leaves us men quite lost, and with no "elders" to guide us, we need somewhere else to look.

But where?

The fairy tales, of course!

Joking aside, Bly's idea is that many fairy tales, being ancient, are filled with symbolism and thus useful to a modern journey of man.

There is so much to go into here that would better be left to the book, so I'll keep it short. Men nowadays have largely been raised by women, and while this is a good thing in some ways, men lack the tools to grow up, to set boundaries, to become Men with a capital M. This I see and agree with. What lacks is the initiation. In certain cultures, the boys are taken away with the elders and initiated at a young age (about 12, it seems), and they come back men. Modern society substitutes video games, TV, and no elders to initiate them at all.

What Iron John sets forth is an analysis of the Grimm Brothers tale Iron John about a kings son who lets a Wild Man out of the cage, is taken to the forest with him, and transformed in ways he never thought possible. Bly is great at analyzing the story and making cultural references that most American men can hold on to. He takes the story apart and shows just how important fairy tales are to our development as human beings.

I have to recommend this book to any male out there, if for the sheer reason that men as a whole need to develop a little more. When you have a nation of boys, you end up invading a country for no good reason and the world is way worse for the wear. Read it.

"The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" by Junot Diaz

2008-04-20T16:30:00.000-07:00

About a week after I finished this book, it was picked as the winner of this year's Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. What can I say, my wife knows how to pick 'em.

I had read an interview with the author, Junot Diaz, in an issue of Boldtype (an online book newsletter) and was interested in his first novel and first new work in nine years, but I can't honestly say that I would have gotten around to it had it not been gifted to me (by my wife, of the aforementioned paragraph...).

Anywho, the book sells itself (by sell, I mean, it says on the inside flap) as a story about an overweight nerdy Dominican kid who longs to be the next J.R.R. Tolkien - cool - and is convinced there is a fuku (special type of Dominican curse) on his family. It is and, well, it isn't what the inside flap says.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao weaves in an out of four different narrators, different time periods, is filled with footnotes on the history of the Dominican Republic (and a lot of mentions of the sexual exploits of its former leader, Trujillo, and his posse, who seem like a bunch of old school gangsters), and, all in all, is a fairly tedious book to read. Not that it wasn't enjoyable, but there were moments with promise that did not come to fruition.

I must say that I was expecting something different, something far more fantastic (i.e. out there, fanciful) because the inside flap did mention Tolkien and I love Tolkien - he's mentioned only a few times. And the idea of a curse on the family was great, but it took too long to get to and the journey to the curse was a lot of wading through muddy waters with no meaning, so that, when all was said and done, you had little more than you started with, which was a cool opening quote and a bad-ass narrator.

Perhaps if I hadn't read the inside cover, I might have been more satisfied by the oodles of comic book references and the snappy dialogue, not to mention the narration.

So, the narration.

Diaz is a great writer, you can tell, and his style is certainly original. Reading this book, it's easy to get lost in the prose and imagine that you're sitting with Junot Diaz (or whoever's narrating the story) in a coffee shop, and he's smoking a cigarrette and telling you about the fuku of this family, about the fuku Oscar tried to stop. He curses, slangs, and rolls his way along, and you feel like you're right there, not in the story, but in the coffee shop, with Junot Diaz.

That's the books biggest fault and most lauded champion. It's the (dare I say) fuku of the book, what makes it good also makes it bad. We all bring our own history to a book we read, or any art, and we see through that prism. Maybe my prism's slanted, and because I wasn't expecting what I got, I was disappointed. I'm not doing a great job of selling the book, so I will say this: the writing was amazing, and reading Oscar Wao is worth it for the sheer tenacity of the language, the raw power Diaz writes with. It's definitely not a waste of time, all fuku's aside.

And the cover's pretty cool.

Faster Than You Think "The Kite Runner" by Kaled Hosseini

2008-04-20T16:12:00.001-07:00

I was hesitant about picking this book up, I think probably because the issues in it seemed "important" and usually those books are the hardest to read. Basically, I was worried "The Kite Runner" would drag. And it did, for like a second.

Then it didn't drag. It ran, it ran fast, so, so uncompromisingly fast.

"The Kite Runner" was simply outstanding. I don't know what to say other than that. I loved the book, and it was incontrovertibly hard to put down. It moved with such force and broached diffucult issues with such ease.

Hosseini is a wonderful writer, his use of metaphor and irony add wonderfully to the story. I felt like I was reading an "important" book, but with much more interest.

There's not much I can say about the book that won't give it away, so I'll give broad strokes. "The Kite Runner" is about the unspoken bonds of brotherhood, the changes of a nation in turmoil, and the guilt and redemption gained at the hands of unspeakeable forces. I'm leaving a lot open because I don't want to risk giving anything away. I'll just say again, this book was very moving, I highly enjoyed it.

Stories are supposed to move you, inspire you, teach you, and you're lucky when one does all three. "The Kite Runner" did that and more. Skip the movie, read the book.

We Suck, and We're Selfish "Endgame" by Derrick Jensen

2008-04-13T13:42:00.000-07:00

Derrick Jensen has some deep-seated aggressions, and he's made some very interesting correlations between his personal history to the history nations and civilizations have in general.

Civilization is bad. The destruction civilization leaves in its wake is so monumental it is disturbing at a root level, a level we as humans, we as the perpetrators of this violence, have an obligation to stop. Civilization kills everything, all life on earth, without giving anything back, and for this reason, Jensen says, civilization has to be ended.

He's right, on many levels, and these make his book very disturbing and topical. First off, a sustainable way of life is not possible with civilization. Too many resources are taken from the land to keep us going, and, well, it makes sense that since most of us (myself included) have jobs that don't contribute to giving back to the land, that at some point the land will stop giving to us. But even with the efforts of individuals towards sustainability (my wife and I included), we as individuals, Jensen says, will make little difference to the earth. It is more what corporations and governments do, the over-fishing, over-logging, over-industrialization for economic gain that is doing the real harm.

Jensen writes that anyone who buys into civilization is insane, because it is exponentially more harmful to the land and humans the longer it lasts. He equates this violence with personal violence, and says that if we would stop personal violence, why not stop cultural violence, why stand by idly and watch it happen. The phrase he uses most is, "What will it take before you fight back?"

Well, what will it take?

Jensen makes many more points than outlined above, and has a particularly chilling chapter on oil that is as unsettling as it is realistic (by which I mean very), but I have no interest to elaborate here. These are the points that stuck with me, so they are the ones I mention.

Take out the dams, fell cell phone towers, take down civilization and its infrastructure and force people to live with the land like they once did, Jensen says. Yes, this is a valid point to hear in the culture of today, what with global warming and all the destruction still being done to our planet, but I must venture to say that there is little hope for this succeeding. More than likely, as has happened in the past, our culture will reach its breaking point (perhaps even it already has reached it) and homeostasis will begin to take effect. Grand scale things have been done, and nothing can be done to reverse them now. We as humans will live with our mistakes and continue to live with them. Our children will pay for our mistakes the same we do for the mistakes of our ancestors.

Jensen's answer, to fight violence with violence, is unsettling and unrealistic, I feel. As much as I see his point, I can't help but think of Kurt Vonnegut, who wrote in Man Without a Country that the what happens in the world is inevitable at this point regardless of what we do, we have to live with it (of course, he said it much more eloquently). I think Jensen actually said it pretty well too. After he purports we take down civilization by comparing its violence to the sexual and physical violence his father imparted on him (not sure there's a connection other than literary here), he defends taking a plane, despite the damage it does to the environment (not to mention the fact that his book is a complete waste of paper, with at least fifty blank pages throughout). He writes: "The truth is that had I not flown, the airplane would still have killed those wasps, and the industry would still have destroyed those fields. Sure I would have cost the airline money, and United's gross income for the year would have been $400 less than $38 billion..." So he's advocating the downfall of something he uses yet abdicating himself from any guilt in the meantime.

I have little patience for hypocrites like this. Despite the fact that many of his arguments are presented in the form of conversations with various people of through email, he does make good points, but it's not a radical change I'm up for making. I'm fine being insane, thank you, and I'll do what I can to personally make changes to help and respect the environment, because I certainly do) and even do what I can to keep corporations from doing more harm.

I'm not sure whether to recommend this book or not. So, if you're interested, look for the book with thick pages written by an environmental activist who chides logging companies for deforestation yet takes no steps to lessen the impact of his redundant 500 page non-fiction rant against civilization.

If Lothlorien Were Full of Redwoods "The Wild Trees" by Richard Preston

2008-04-12T17:11:00.000-07:00

The idea is that nearly half of this earth's life lives in the forest canopy. No one really knows because there isn't a set number on the species that inhabit this earth, but the forest canopy is "earth's secret ocean."

Redwoods are the giants of this earth, cousins to sequoias, and tower over the coast in northern California and the southern tip of Oregon. They amaze the crap out of me (literally! not really), and the amount of life in the canopies is amazing.

They're also vanishing, or have already vanished in large numbers because of logging, and care must be taken to keep these giant trees (some could be dated back to the Parthenon) from altogether being a glimpse into the past.

As I read this book I pictured dinosaurs walking through fields of tall redwoods, the brontosaurus grazing on the leaves at the bottom of the canopies (redwoods can get up to 37 stories tall - the tallest redwood is 379.1 feet, named Hyperion) and moving through vast oceans of giant things. It's a great escape.

Though that's not necessarily what "The Wild Trees" is about, entirely. The book mainly focuses on the people involved with discovering (meaning they measure the trees and study the life in them - redwoods are full of lichens (plant and fungi in symbiotic relationships) and epiphytes (plants that grow out of other plants)) the giant redwoods still on this planet. In this book we meet Steve Sillet, Marie Antoine, and Micheal Taylor (along with the author), among others, whose life quest is the study and discovery of a world many of us just gaze at and think, "wow."

It really is amazing stuff, and redwoods are amazing trees, and trees are amazing beings. It is all very fantastic to me, and for some reason opens the door to imaginations and daydreams about a time lost to us at present. The world is very old indeed.

This book was great. Not only does it highlight a fascinating living thing, the story is compelling, and it enlightens one to the state our world is in now and the mighty endurance of life on earth. Us humans are but a speck on the map compared to the ancient redwood forests. And something tells me they'll be here long after we're gone. Wow.

Now That's a Sandwich "Ham On Rye" by Charles Bukowski

2008-03-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

Charles Bukowski is the friend I never had. The guy who gets beat up in fistfights, gets up, and walks home as if he had only scraped a knee. The guy who will say what he thinks about anything to anyone, just because you asked. The guy who will piss all over someone's shoes if he doesn't like them, but is really insecure and unsure about life at the end of the day.

I've not read any Bukowski before this, and my only knowledge has been lyrics from a Modest Mouse song: ...like Bukowski, and yeah, I know, he's a pretty good read but God didn't have to be such an asshole. So, naturally, I was expecting something raw and intense. Ham On Rye blew away my expectations.

Reading a book like Ham On Rye is like spending a night in a bar with the most interesting patrons, if you could wrap all the barflies into one and make that culmination all sixteen years old. The book is, like most of Bukowski's work, semi-autobiographical, and takes on his childhood up through his college career. It's like The Wonder Years but R-rated, and instead of Wendy there are various teachers and authority figures Henry Chinaski (the main character) admires but never gets.

To say the writing is obnoxious and vulgar is an understatement, but the writing is so good, so alive and full of truth that you don't want to stop reading. You want to hear more. You'd read Bukowski tell you how grass grows because he would make it interesting. Its labors towards the sun would be adolescently sexual, its thirst for water reminiscent of Chinaski's early adoration for alcohol (which, I can only assume, became a lifetime pursuit), its harsher times much like Chinaski's beatings by his father. You'd laugh with it, feel for it, and want to know everything about it. That's Bukowski.

I highly recommend this book, not just because of the cover either! And though, Ham On Rye was my first Bukowski read, it certainly will not be the last. I can't wait to read Post Office.

Mushrooms Galore! "Chasing the Rain" by Taylor Lockwood

2008-03-29T15:49:00.000-07:00

Taylor Lockwood takes lots of pictures of mushrooms around the world. There are a lot of different types of mushrooms.

This makes his pictures very interesting. But Taylor is a terrible writer so you don't learn a thing about the mushrooms themselves or even mushroom hunting.

I loved the pictures, but was hoping to learn a little more about the fungi, so it was a little disappointing.

So it goes.

The Old Ball and Chain "Here Lies My Heart" Edited by Amy Bloom

2008-03-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

Okay, I confess, last month I shadowed a book club. A non-fiction book club. I nearly went to the discussion but chickened out, possibly last minute, for several reasons. I could argue they are all valid.

First off, Here Lies My Heart is a collection of stories about marriage - why we marry, why we don't, and what we find there (directly from the cover, as you can see). This collection provides a nice cross section of couples, singles, and single couples, going through various stages of the life-changing process. Some have been cheated on, some have cheated, some have given up on love only to have found it anew, others suffered devastating losses when disease killed their partner. All are interesting stories in their own way.

The collection as a whole was worth the read. Most, I don't say all because there were a few that weren't, were heartbreakingly honest. So much so that I relished a glimpse inside these worlds and felt cheated when a writer wasn't completely forthcoming with details so as to close the shades on me. I got that, as a collection, marriage tends to be something that is really hard, and I can't agree, which is why I found the book kindof intimidating.

This collection is filled with grief over infidelity, and broken partnerships. And while I've not been married all that long, I can't share the sentiments about marriage many of the writers profess. Mine has been an altogether positive experience. I like compromise. I mean, I don't like compromise but I like that we both have to compromise. It's the best way to live for one as lucky as myself to find an amazing wife (okay, too much, yeah).

So I couldn't discuss the book partly because it intimidated me with it's lopsided, probably later-in-life, cynical, view of marriage. And I couldn't discuss it because I felt like I would be outweighed in my argument by a bunch of bitter old people with a lot more experience in their ammo bag. And I couldn't discuss because I really don't have that much of an opinion about it other than that it has been great for me. I feel liberated, I feel like I have a partner, someone I can share my fears and desires and needs and failures and successes and everything else with, plus I can kiss her when I like and she usually kisses back. It's not a bad deal. Maybe one day I'll write a story and send it to Amy Bloom, the editor, about my positive experience with marriage. But not now, I'm too busy being married as it is. Read this book, it's good for its voyeurism and you really get a look inside some lives that are kindof messed up and secretly feel good about the place you're at. Plus the cover is similar to what my wife and I had as our Ceremony program. Small world!

The Most Important Thing in The World "In Defense of Food" by Michael Pollan

2008-03-02T15:01:00.000-08:00

Michael Pollan has officially changed my life. Because of him I really really consider what I'm eating on a daily basis. It's cool and it's a lot of work, but it really is worth it.

I was hooked from his last book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, so when I saw he had a new, more advisory book coming out, I immediately purchased it.

While In Defense of Food was very insightful, and Pollan gives some great advice on broad ways of thinking about food, he elects not to go into specifics and give the somewhat confused reader an idea of what exactly to eat. Instead, he gives many examples of the types of foods you should not eat, which is basically anything processed or anything claiming to have added nutritional value.

Pollan's book can be summed up in the words on the cover: Eat Food. Mostly plants. Not too Much. Great words, great advice. Interspersed are guideposts to help navigate you through the vastly confusing world of food (especially at the supermarket) today and some tenets of wisdom to keep in mind when considering what, exactly, to have for dinner (if it's beef, make sure it's grass fed - see Pollan's website for where to find grass-fed beef). Even if I didn't get all of the answers I was looking for, I got a lot, and what Pollan has succeeded in doing is pointing me down a path, a path of knowledge and rediscovery about food that is exciting and empowering.

For anyone interested, I highly encourage reading Pollan's website, www.michaelpollan.com, his books (of course, as well as books by people he hangs out with), and visiting and getting to know your farmer's market. It's a great experience that puts one in touch with the people that grow one's food and allows one to appreciate the supreme interconnectedness of life. Food is life, and life is good.

Moving Words "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selznick

2008-03-02T14:43:00.000-08:00

Experimental fiction is something I am drawn to, I think, just by way of having something new to read and decipher. Sometimes the payoff is well worth it, sometimes, not so much.

The Invention of Hugo Cabret was a huge payoff.

Probably most interesting is that the story is told in the form of a silent film, with pictures lending just as much (if not more) to the story as the words. The pictures, done by the author in pencil, are so detailed and interesting that you can lose yourself just staring at any one of the hundreds through the book. And the story itself is a compelling one, filled with mystery, intrigue, legends, and the importance of family and friendships.

I guess you could say I enjoyed it. This was a book my wife recommended to me after she read it (plowed through is the best way to describe how she devoured this book) and I felt, after a few months, that it was time I stop ignoring her urges and read the book. Needless to say, she has an appreciation for good stories.

The story of Hugo Cabret is a good one, like I said. Hugo is a young boy, eleven or so years old, who has taken over fixing the clocks in a Paris train station from his mischevious uncle, recently gone missing. He gets caught stealing a toy from a dealer that sets off a chain of interconnected events that leads Hugo to an impressive discovery about his father and a mysterious automata he has been keeping for some time.

I don't do this book justice. It's a hip book to read now because it's good and different. Read it. It's quick and outstanding, and the pictures are so much more enjoyable than the cover, which is good anytime that happens.

Take a Breath, Now Watch It "Wherever You Go, There You Are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn

2008-02-11T14:03:00.000-08:00

There's not much I can say about this book that it doesn't say better and more simply, so I won't even try. It's enough that it is.

Welles and Good "Orson Welles" by Andre Bazin

2008-02-11T13:51:00.000-08:00

To kick off my year of reading more non-fiction, I started with a little personal improvement. I wanted to read "Orson Welles" because I was looking for some insights into how the famous director made use of sound, rhythm, and tempo in the blocking and cutting of his films. What I got was much more rewarding.

Bazin is a great writer who takes care to discuss many aspects of Welles filmmaking, including his bravado and cocky attitude that won him out of many assignments. Still, he seems to be the command of his destiny and to only make the films he wants to.

There is much to learn from here, even the foreword by the famous French director and film critic Francois Truffaut is insightful, however brief. Welles career may have been shorter on the directing side than many of us would have liked, but the legacy that he did leave bears a mountain of study. Indeed, Welles was very keen on editing in cinema, and paid very close attention to it, and he also made use of a sense of timing that comes from his experience on the stage.

The attention and appreciation brought to the technical side of Welles' films is enough to appease at least this reader's appetite for knowledge. The book is a little outdated now but is still a good read nonetheless.

Magik!"The Alchemyst: The Secret of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel"by Michael Scott

2008-01-21T20:13:00.001-08:00

The idea sounds really cool. Ancient book (Book of Abraham the Mage), immortal dude (Nicholas Flamel), modern day San Francisco, Ojai, Paris, and others, and a whole bunch of magic and alchemy. Sweet!

Bitter! Man was this book a disappointment. Sometimes, when you're going somewhere, and you know what's going to happen, it gets old. You fall asleep. I'm just glad the drive was short because it really could have been dangerous.

It's not all bad, and I have to give credit where credit is due. Michael Scott does a great job of weaving actual events, Gods, and historical people into the story. Nicholas Flamel was an actual person, Perenelle was his wife, Dr. John Dee was a famous everyman, etc. So on that level, the book is an exciting read, and the points it brings up could send you on a weeks long search through the occult on wikipedia. For that, I am grateful, because hearing about obscure things that could be real always excites the imagination, and The Alchemyst certainly does that.

I don't really need to delve into the plot too much (if you're interested, go here), but essentially two twins with perfect silver and gold auras get mistakenly wrapped up in an immortal battle that will decide the fate of the human race. Everything will depend on them, but you'll have to wait for the following books to come out because this is a series!

Constructive criticism: too much fighting against dead things, not enough focus on character. I didn't believe or care about any of the characters, and not once was I wondering what was going to happen. It's a shame too because the idea is a solid one.

Great cover, bad insides. Next!

When I Was Your Age "No Country For Old Men" by Cormac McCarthy

2008-01-21T19:13:00.000-08:00

The opening scenes of this novel felt like a smack in the face, as McCarthy goes.

I'm used to slow, methodical openings, like a sunrise, from McCarthy. You get into the story like you get in cold water, hesitantly at first, fully later. Usually, he sets his characters up in ambiguous ways, and things happen to them after a few beautiful chapters. Here, you're running the moment you open the book.

It was amazing! Awesome! Thrilling, adventure, morality set against the scales of life and death, it was the perfect way to start the reading year off. And if that's any indication of what's in store, I can't wait.

Earlier, I called The Road McCarthy's most accessibe, but I said that ignorant of this earlier book of his. No Country For Old Men is just as accessible, if not more, than McCarthy's latest; it's definitely his most thrilling.

Llewellyn Moss, on a hunting expedition, stumbles upon a scene in the desert he's not prepared for: the aftermath of a drug trade gone bad. Dead bodies scatter the hot desert ridge where Moss finds millions of dollars in cash along with some heroine in the back of one of the trucks. He takes the cash and scoots off, but later doubts lead him back to the scene, where he is spotted by a man that pursues him to no end, stopping at nothing to get the money back.

Moss is pursued by the drug cartel, who are scary but not in comparison with his other pursuer, Chigurh. Chigurh is evil come real, he is fate and God aligned in man, all the malice and terror you would expect from such a person.

And throughout all this mess is the story of the sheriff of the town, who is riddled by his own demons while he struggles to bring Moss in and ultimately save him from Chigurh, who scares everyone.

McCarthy's ethereal writing lends a terrible weight to the themes of this novel, and his answers are just as disturbing as they ever are, so if you're a McCarthy fan, you're in for quite a treat. I love how he plays the story out and subverts the plot to shed light on the real issues, the real threat of mankind, rather than distract us with just another great story. What McCarthy does well here is what he's best at: evoking a feeling that has a purpose.

Today, there really is no country for old men, things really aren't as easy or as innocent as they once were. So much is working against us. As ever, McCarthy lets us know that the real hope is in the hopeless, our real motivations are never as pure as we want them to be, and, man, this world is messed up. Here, I have to agree. Read this book.

The Year in Books

2007-12-31T17:29:00.000-08:00

I planned on having more time to write this blog, a couple hours at least, but I ran out. Seems like there's a pattern to that, at least in my life. There is never enough time.

That goes for reading too. Halfway through 2007 I came up with a list of books I wanted to read for the remainder of the year and promised myself that if I made good, I'd buy myself a pizza. I didn't make it through my list (though I feel like I made a pretty decent dent in it), I'm still going to get that pizza, from Joe Peeps, and I'm going to eat it like there's no tomorrow.

There just isn't enough time in the day to read everything I'd like to. Sometimes it can be so overwhelming it can be frustrating. And then I catch myself in the mirror and laugh, because there's no point in getting frustrated. That's just the way it is. I should go into bookstores more often just to remind myself that I'll never read even a quarter of what's in there. What matters is that I make what I read count. And though there's some luck in that, because reading a book is an investment of time, it's about what I take from it that matters. Everything has something to give, no matter how crappy or how good.

Words have such power, and, as the years go by, I fall more and more in their trance. I love all forms of storytelling, but books are my favorite. I wish films were, but there's just not enough great films, and usually (here's a cliche) the book's far better. Still, I have a passion for story, and no matter where it comes from, when it's good that's what counts, whether it's a book or a film or Lost.

This year my favorites were The Road by Cormac McCarthy, in my opinion the greatest writer alive, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (of course!) by J.K. Rowling, The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy, The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and the Half-Blood Prince (I was late to the game).

Now that the year's come to a close, I must ask myself: What to do? Do I scrap my reading list from this year and start over with a new one? Nah. I'm going to keep the books I didn't read on my to-read list but I'm not going to burden myself with a list, not a strict one. I got so many books as gifts this year that I'm excited about reading that I just can't put them at the end of the pile, because I want to read them NOW!!! So I'll continue to add to my to-read list that I carry with me, but gone is the must-read-before-year-end list that became more of a burden than an inspiration. I free myself from my own shackles and say, read what you want, when you want! Deviate from your boundaries, pick up new things, try new books, and come back to the old ones.

This year, I'm looking forward to reading The Wild Trees (I'd like it to be a non-fiction-themed year), The Kite Runner, Ham On Rye, Bowl of Cherries, The Bible According to Mark Twain, The Fourth Bear, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, The Know It All, The Alchemyst, and whatever else pops up in addition to the books I've been looking forward to reading for quite some time. I feel lucky and excited because I'm already engrossed in No Country For Old Men, dazzled by Journeys to Unforgettable Places (Pico Iyers account of Ethiopia, especially Abyssinia, is wondrous), and laughing my butt off at I Am America and So Can You. So 2008 should be good, if the first three are any indication, and I have a feeling they are.

Happy New Year! And Happy Reading!

It's Kinda Like the Eight Ball "Understanding The I-Ching" by Hellmut and Richard Wilhelm

2007-12-31T10:35:00.001-08:00

In keeping with my curiosity about Eastern philosophy, the I Ching, or Book of Changes, seemed a logical read. I read another book on the I Ching that I'll not blog, because this one give more of an encompassing view of the I Ching.

The I Ching, or "Book of Changes", is an ancient text that is consulted by tossing yarrow stalks (now coins, using heads or tails to count) that gives advice on life and situations that arise. The responses can be as varied and ambiguous as "Lends grace to the beard on his chin" to "Graceful and moist, constant perseverance brings good fortune." Sounds like fortune cookies, and the responses could even mimic that of the general horoscope, but the I Ching is supposed to go deeper than that.

So deep that some people, like Richard Wilhelm, spend their entire life studying the I Ching and it's responses. Luckily some of his lectures were collected and edited by his son so that people like me, who are just curious, can check it out without the commitment of reading the source text.

While I'm not that into tossing coins in a random fashion and following the advice that corresponds to their numbers, the philosophy and the background of the I Ching is much more my style. I like the messages, I like that there are 64 hexagrams, and that combined they encompass any and every change in the chaotic world. Essentially, the I Ching takes the chaos of the universe and orders it into 64 interrelated categories. It's a fascinating thing to see, and just another extension of the worldview that everything is connected, to which I would very much like to believe.

I've heard Taoism is a major precursor to the I Ching, and I think I'll be looking into that much more in the coming months. It's a fun journey, I highly recommend it. Write me when you get there.

Some Peace and Quiet "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind" by Shunryu Suzuki

2007-12-31T10:01:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to expand my horizons, philosophically speaking. This year I took a short class on meditation that I really enjoyed, and I've been reading into existentialism and other philosophies and religions. It should come as no surprise to those who know me that Zen would enter at some point.

George Lucas used Zen as the basis for much of the Force in the Star Wars films, so I knew it would agree with me.

Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind is a series of talks transcribed by students of Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki on Zen practice, meditation, and mindfulness. It's a fascinating book that offers insights and advice on leading a zen life. No matter what your belief system, if you subscribe to a religion, even the tenets of Zen stand to add a little more to your spirituality. Zen is an outlook more than it is a religion. It is a practice and, more than anything, a philosophy of the world.

Everything is connected, everything affects everything else, and the point of all this is to rise above the everyday tasks and get your head above the clouds, so to speak, so that you can have a clear view of life. Even if Zen isn't for you, it's hard not to find the words here insightful and provocative:

You know how to rest physically. You do not know how to rest mentally. Even though you lie in your bed your mind is still busy; even if you sleep you mind is busy dreaming. Your mind is always in intense activity. This is not so good. We should know how to give up our thinking mind, our busy mind.

It's easy to find those words comforting, because it's the truth. I've heard many great things about meditation, about leading a Zen life, and the class I took on meditation was in the middle of this book, and while the teacher was not teaching Zen, many of the points he made coincided with what I was reading. The benefits are worth it, I think, and this book is a true classic. I highly recommend it to anyone looking to enhance their personal and/or spiritual growth.

Bad Cop, Bad! "The Night Gardener" by George Pelecanos

2007-11-20T18:15:00.000-08:00

I forget where I was read about this book, but a thousand times I wish I did, because I'm never taking that advice again. Maybe if I had done some research, I would have found that this book was not up my alley.

Look, I like mysteries, I enjoy cop dramas and the theme that cops and criminals are similar but for a legality and rules. None of that's here.

The writing's worse than pulpy bestseller drama, and there is barely any suspense to drive the story. It drags. I only finished it because I felt obligated, and honestly I kept reading because I couldn't let go of the hope that something more interesting would happen. It had to.

Nope. Alright, then, fine, I give up. Novels like this make me question satisfaction. Will I ever make it through my neverending list of books I want to read? A book is an investment, which makes it so thoroughly depressing when a book isn't at least fun.

The story's simple, not that you're interested if I've tainted you correctly. Three children whose first names are spelled the same backwards as forwards (i.e. "Asa") have been murdered. Fifteen years later, with the case still unsolved, another kid has been killed whose name is a palindrome, and the cops that worked the unsolved case are brought together with mixed emotions and old tensions. And...

Nothing happens! The mysteries fizzle out, the characters quickly become unbelievable and tiring, and the subplots are boring. Have I said enough? I feel bad badgering this book any further. I should, but I won't.

And the cover isn't all that great either, in retrospect.

Around the World "Only Revolutions" by Mark Z. Danielewski

2007-11-20T17:54:00.000-08:00

Sam and Hailey and Hailey and Sam. Forever and never. Now and always.

Or so it goes from the looks of this clustered book full of wordplay and colors and just plain pizazz. Only Revolutions is the kind of book you read and say, "What the flip?", and then you flip it and read more.

Record scratch. Sam and Hailey, eternally sixteen, road-tripping from city to city in an ever-changing cast of cars and situations that seem to blend together so fast and easily that it's much closer to a dream than anything, are in love. And their love is spilled all over these pages in unique and creative ways, all contributing to Danielewski's title, only revolutions.

First, the book itself, you read eight pages (the vertical symbol of infinity) and then flip the book and read eight pages from the other side. Each half tells a story, the flips intersect at page 180 (the hardbound book is 360 pages, or one full revolution), and the end of the book could easily lead back into the beginning, culminating in a swirling hulk of experimental fiction that is literally quite dizzying. The first letter of each chapter, combined, spells out "Sam and Hailey and Sam and Hailey..." and so on. Another revolution.

The writing is fresh and invigorating, but it does become a little much and after a while, the journey starts to feel repetitive (coincidence? probably not). Only Revolutions is actually one long poem, and it seems to work better as spoken word than silent reading, because the words spoken aloud have a much different effect than when they ring by in your head. If you're into spoken word, then maybe the audio book, the reader handpicked by Danielewski, would be of interest.

Ultimately, I'm on the fence about what to say about this book. It's a fun read and the conception is more than interesting, but it starts to wind down at a certain point and the fun becomes in reaching some solid ground, which never happens. I'd recommend it, but I prefer his earlier House of Leaves, with the experimental fiction contributing to the feel and pace of the story, a tad bit more...

I say judge for yourself, the cover's cool anyway. And if you're into forums, this author has a huge cult following.

At Least I Learned Some New Words "Cloud Atlas" by David Mitchell

2007-10-28T10:41:00.000-07:00

I was really excited to read Cloud Atlas. A couple of blogs I read had recommended it and it was a Finalist for the Man Booker Prize, so it was a shoe-in. I guess I should know by now that there will be disappointment in life. Such is the case with Cloud Atlas.

In theory, the book is beautiful and intriguing. It is made up of six parts, each of which is interrupted halfway by the next and picked up later. It's explained better here, but the best way I can describe it is that it's like Lost without the interesting mythology. Each story is intricately connected to the next, by way of reincarnation, and the stories gravitate between metafiction and self-reflection to near Twilight Zone moments. Each character finds the subsequent story at some point in their own story, and they all have a comet shaped birthmark above their left shoulder.

In execution, though, this neatly packed story within a story within a story does not hold so well. I openly celebrate experimental fiction, but only the more so when it grabs me. A story is a story no matter how you tell it, but a story that's told well is insurpassable.

David Mitchell flourishes in some sections, his writing overtakes the story and it's hard to put down, but that is all overshadowed by a need to outdo himself. But instead of succeeding, it ends up looking like some three year old's stomping fit. "Look at me! Look at me!" I feel more comfortable putting him in time-out.

For what it is, Cloud Atlas is different, and I will read more David Mitchell, because his ideas are intriguing and I'd like to see them fleshed out in a less self-indulgent way. And I did learn several new words, so that's good right? It wasn't a total waste of time then. Reading never is.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

2007-10-10T17:19:00.000-07:00

First off, this book is thick, the pages are thin, and the words are small, which is daunting. I got gasps from people, gasps, when I mentioned I was reading this book, mostly I'm guessing because big books like this tend to be boring and filled with ideas but short on story, a monstrosity that's called "classic" because what else can you do.

But "No," I would answer the gasps, "the book is amazing, it's fascinating, and graphic and intense and funny, and it reads quickly," that was the most astonishing thing even I found. In essence, I can see why Crime and Punishment is considered a classic: because it's a really really great novel. Simple as that.

That's not to say there isn't anything to dissect, I think you could make a career out of picking this novel apart. Some people already have, which makes me happy, because then I don't have to read the novel countless times to weed through the endless themes in search of some higher meaning. If you're curious, even if you haven't read it, it is cool, so check it out (it's just wikipedia, anyways).

Crime and Punishment is a symmetrical story that follows the actions of Raskolnikov. There is too much that happens in the novel to give it a proper summary, and consequently I'm not going to try. Raskolnikov's endless struggle over his reaction to his crime and the cat and mouse game with the cunning detective Porfiry Petrovich are enough for a novel, but Dostoevsky, who apparently is a master of character, layers in so much more than that. As a reader you are greeted with so much literary treasure that it's hard to keep yourself satiated. You want more, more, more, so that even the bulk of the novel isn't enough. (I myself have to read his following novels now, there is absolutely no question, though I may wait because they are a commitment). Raskolnikov's sister Dunya, his mother Pulkheria, his friend Razumikhin, the old man Marmaledov, Raskolnikov's moral mirror Sonya, and the despicable Svidrigailov are all such satisfying characters in themselves that just by writing their names I want to read more about them. And to tell about them would take so long that instead of doing so I say: read this book!

I want to paste this section because it grabbed me. I felt that here Dostoevsky was writing in blood, or at least I feel a real communion with him in this section, and I'd like to think that one of the seeds for his book is here:

Siberia. On the bank of a wide, lonely river there is a town, one of Russia's administrative centries; in the town there is a fortress, in the fortress is a prison. In the prison there is a penal exile of the second category, Rodion Raskolnikov. Since the day he committed his crime almost one and a half years have passed.

Crime and Punishment is an absolute pleasure to read. It's philosophical, witty, and fresh (yes, fresh even if it is a classic, because I've not read anything like it). I'll never forget the end of the Part One, how I sat in bed, mouth agape in shock, and read with a ferocity I have not read with in quite a while. It wasn't the ferocity of "I've got to know what happens", but more "I can't believe what I am reading." The vignettes Dosoevsky creates are funny at times, sad at others, but altogether they are necessary, and that's what I love about his book. Multi-layered, full of meaning and ambiguity, and rich in all the right ways, Crime and Punishment made quite an impression on me, one that I hope I will not soon forget (and one I must come back to whenever I write something of my own one day).

"All He Ever Wanted" by Anita Shreve

2007-09-12T17:54:00.001-07:00

I suspected as soon as the first page that this wasn't my type of book. My suspicions mounted after the first 100 pages did little to pique my interest, and I was certain, absolutely certain, after the 101st page. And yet I read on.

Reader's guilt, I call it. It's when you start a book but find that you don't really like it but feel guilty not finishing it. The writing wasn't wretched, the story was intriguing in its own way, and it read fast. So I would feel guilty if I didn't finish it.

So I read. I read like a child eats spinach, force-feeding myself the words like they were good for me, like I had to read them to expel some sort of virus. When really all I wanted was to finish, because the only thing more satisfying than finishing a book you love is finishing a book you hate. I'm done with it! Yes! Celebrations are in order, we must mark this occasion.

All He Ever Wanted was not a bad novel, and for anyone interested, the story is about love. But the kind of love it's about is not what you'd expect. A man of reason, Professor Nicolas Van Tassel, becomes infatuated with a woman, Etna Bliss, one night after helping her aunt out of a fire, and will not stop until he can have her. The lengths he goes to win her love, and then the lengths he goes to keep her from leaving (because she doesn't love him in return), are disturbing and though-provoking in their own way.

Shreve does a great job of weaving together elements of story with philosophy about love, fate, chance, and the sacrifices we make. Still, I couldn't get into it, and only indulged myself because I had no other choice. Well, I could feel guilty, but who wants that.

Dirka Dirka, Progressivityism "The Reluctant Fundamentalist" by Mohsin Hamid

2007-09-03T20:03:00.001-07:00

I know novels about 9/11 are nothing new, and I suspect the events and issues surrounding that day will continue to be explored for quite some time. This is the first novel I've read that involves the events of September 11, and offers a different view than what I experienced in the aftermath.

Perspective is good.

A bearded Pakistani man sits at a cafe with an American in Lahore, India, and tells of his time in America. From his days at Princeton to his courtship with an American woman named Erika (whose name, I suspect, hints at the metaphoric representation of her country), to his subsequent departure from the U.S. after 9/11, the man, who goes by Changez (another phonetic name), recounts his story in painstaking detail.

The story is told in both second and first person. It is you, the reader of the novel, who is the American sitting with Changez at the cafe in Lahore. He talks to you, asks if you would like to order dinner, a drink, dessert. He makes assumptions about you and guesses your assumptions about him. It all has a very choose-your-own-adventure feel, and though Hamid's device works in theory, in practice the effect proves to be too jarring to be enjoyable. It's successful to a fault, it takes you out of the story enough to gain a fair distance from the story, and that fault is the reason I don't completely love this book.

There are some gems in the novel, and Hamid is a clever writer. The poetic passages that lace this novel kept me hoping that he would not stop the story and go into talking to me at the cafe. Changez's relationship with Erika, his longing for her, and her actions after 9/11, all seem too obvious in their attempt at allegory. Changez is like Pakistan, wanting to be allied with America, while Erika is like America, her sites set on something else, her mind in a whole different state. Erika is not grounded in the real world, she makes decisions based on imagination, and this adversely affects everyone.

It's perfect fodder for the state of the world right now. If it didn't necessarily succeed as a novel (it fell short, I must say), it's refueld my interest in current affairs, and at least motivated me to learn more about what kind of damage we are doing in the world that we have absolutely no idea about.

The Reluctant Fundamentalist asks a lot of great questions. We have turned backwards, fallen into illogical thinking, and are not looking clearly at what we are doing to the world. We move forward because we are America and we can, because we have the most powerful everything and no one can challenge us (though for how much longer, I wonder?). What The Reluctant Fundamentalist does is point out that people are hurt by us, Pakistan was hurt by America because they failed to help them (Pakistan, America's ally, was left in the cold after India threatened to invade, while America bombed the bejesus out of Afghanistan - the catalyst for this story), that racism is anything but over with, and that it's all too easy to be an American and think you are entitled, but it's the worst mistake you can make.

Making Waves "Life of Pi" by Yann Martel

2007-09-03T19:21:00.000-07:00

Supposedly, this book will make you believe in God. At least, that's what the inside cover of the library edition claims, that "it may, as one character claims: make you believe in God."

What a letdown! I was expecting some major breakthrough, some tour de force, I was expecting to open the book and gold rays to come bursting out that would melt my face off like some sort of modern covenant. Didn't happen.

Life of Pi is, the inside cover also claims: about a boy, a tiger, and the Pacific Ocean. It is a fascinating story that won a prestigious award, but it didn't change my life. Maybe my expectations were too high, perhaps I wanted something more, some insight, some meaning I couldn't or haven't yet gleaned from life as I know it. Didn't happen.

Which made me wonder, am I not impressionable anymore? Am I past that phase? Is it a phase? Can I not be moved like I once was? I really can't bring myself to believe that I can't. I have my beliefs, my doubts and cynicisms, I have a pretty good idea on what the world will bring me and what to expect. I've formulated a philosophy for my life that works for me, but is it set in stone? Can it change? I'd like to think so, it should grow and change and adapt as I do. But that isn't impressionism, that's influence. It's change. Impressions have already been made on me. So nothing major, certainly not just a decent book, can make me change my life.

And, after a long discussion with my wife, one that is sure to continue, I must conclude that I am past that impressionable phase (as far as spirituality goes, not, perhaps, meaning). I've read books far worse yet been moved by them far more, I've found God and spirituality in so many other things that I cannot possibly find in Life of Pi, not a bad thing, just a letdown of expectations.

The lesson here is that a book should not stake that claim that it may make one believe in God. It inevitably dooms the book. It takes the 100 page setup of the book that has no insight at all, but rather just an exploration with a child into the various forms of religion (Hinduism, Muslim, and Christianity), and forces the rest of the book stand in its shadow.

The book is quite moving, it's a great read, and I found the story exceptional. One insight the main character, Pi Patel, had particularly moved me. Pi found himself at the mercy of opposites. He would often want one thing, get it, and then want another. When it would rain, he would wish for the sun to be out, to be dry and warm; when it was hot, he'd give anything for a bit of freshwater to cool off with. It's an extremely common thing, to want something, to get it, and to hope for the opposite. And it's the balance and the acceptance of these opposites as a way of life that I found so endearing when reading this novel.

Pi survives over half a year at sea in a boat with a 350 pound Bengal tiger. It's a story that you should read, not so that you will believe in God, but because it will move you, it will make your life more meaningful, shine light on things you take for granted, and inspire you. You might read this book and find that life is amazing even in the darkest, most solitary moments.

The Long and Winding... "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy

2007-08-25T10:54:00.001-07:00

The landscape is barren. Ash constantly falls from the gray sky. When it snows the snowflakes are gray, and when it rains the rain washes away nothing. There is no sustainable life. Only a handful of people survive on America's continent, and there is no knowledge of the outside world or if anything is across the ocean. Through it all twists a road, a road that leads to the coast. On it are a man and his little boy, and because they are alive there is hope.

This is the setting for Cormac McCarthy's haunting novel, The Road, about a man and his son's journey along a road in a searing apocalyptic world. The man has seen the world change, while his son has only known the barren, ashen world they live in. They are the past and the future. While electronics scatter the stores, the food shelves are empty, and everything they cross is some depressing relic of the past. The boy sees this and all he knows is this, his strong intuition makes him the realist of the two, and he often has to tell his father to do what's best for both of them. The man, on the other hand, exercises blind hope. He's seen what can be, he's known a better life, he wants that for his son. And so they struggle. The dynamic is astounding.

McCarthy never lets on how the world got this way, only hints at it, but that becomes beside the point. What really matters is this man and his son, their survival, their constant struggle to reach the coast, their love for each other, their hope. What becomes of it is a multilayered allegory about love and hope in the most desperate times, about the human condition - its faults, and its strengths - and the power of the Earth.

I was completely enthralled with this novel, which isn't much of a compliment to McCarthy. It's something you expect when you read him. He is, in my opinion, the best American writer alive today. His writing is so powerful, so rich in meaning, and his characters as real as if you came upon them in the street (most of them would make you cringe, though, given how hardened and tough they have become due to the circumstances of their lives).

McCarthy writes like a poet. His words are perfect, each one plucked delicately out of the universe and put on the page as if no other word could live there. You read a McCarthy sentence or paragraph or section and you get a feeling, even if the words might make little sense. He is a master of creating tone, and a brilliant wordsmith.

So, what can I say, I highly recommend this novel, it's unbearably heartwrenching at times and full of life at others. You might weep a little, you might laugh, you'll definitely emote. It's McCarthy's most accessible novel, and also one of his best. One last recommendation: if you find a section that you really like, read it out loud, hear the words, and how their combination creates a feeling. Just like a good poem, listening to it sometimes completely changes it. And it's usually for the better.

Some Deathly Reading "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows" by J.K. Rowling

2007-08-08T17:48:00.001-07:00

Holy crap these books are good. J.K. Rowling's ability to grow with her audience, to darken the themes and write a great story that young adults and older young adults can both enjoy is uncanny. It was truly magical reading these books, and the wonderful journey came to an excellent close. Though it did meander a bit, it's all the same in the end. Rowling's themes of fear and power are so profound and timely, these books are classics and highly recommended.

I'd argue with anyone that says different.

In the Stomach "Nausea" by Jean-Paul Sartre

2007-08-08T17:13:00.000-07:00

Nausea has been sitting on my shelf for a good five years, and only after a minor existential crisis of my own was I propelled into a desire to read it. Existentially speaking, I'm looking for meaning in life, not that I'll find it in existentialism, but at least, I thought, I'd hear about the struggle.

Sartre is one of those really cool people that you secretly wish you were if you lived forever and could be five different people of your choice. He was a great philosopher who wrote some really hefty philosophical texts, of which his most famous is Being and Nothingness, and also a fantastic storyteller and wrote plays and novels, No Exit and Nausea being the most accessible. I won't go too much into his philosophy as it would be a moot point other than to say that he supports it well in the novel form.

I'm glad Nausea is a short book, because any more and I'd be sick. Told in the form of the diary of the main character, Antoine Roquentin, it follows his exploits in France as he tries to trace the nausea that crashes over him at random times. Roquentin is a lonely man, and it's his loneliness that follows him around and nearly condemns him to his nausea. It almost seems that Sartre is saying that meaning comes from relationships, that we seek out connection to distract ourselves from existence. In fact, what Roqeuntin comes to find is that the nausea he feels is existence itself, it is realizing that he is and is not at the same time, and when he realizes that, he observes others unintentionally distracting themselves from seeing the same.

I can see why this is one of Sartre's more popular novels. The surreal moments are astounding. Its most surreal moments are utterly graphic and somewhat disturbing (but I found that fun), and it's meandering plot does end up having a point, but it is a difficult book to get through because of its subject matter. There is no mystery to solve. Instead, there is one man and his random encounters with objects, former lovers, and other odd sorts of people. I must say that I did like it, though, and it has left quite an impression on me.

Oh, the existential crisis continues! If you've got time, read it, keep the crisis alive.

Mad Scientists? "The Jasons" by Ann Finkbeiner

2007-06-17T15:27:00.000-07:00

The front jacket of this book is enough to spark anyone's imagination. Every year since 1960 a group of elite scientists meets for six-weeks in top secret locations to solve highly classified defense problems. Hell yeah!

For me, I think of darkly lit rooms, scientists in white coats, high-tech gadgets, and the fate of the world in the balance. I imagine state-of-the-art technology, even stater-of-the-art ideas, and complete tyrannical chaos over each and every one of them. What I imagine is a fantasy.

The best part of this book is on the front cover. The rest, sadly, is boring, static, and unfulfilling. The book filled with useless information about countless scientist's backgrounds and little or no information regarding any of the top secret studies the group "Jason" has worked on.

With paragraph headings like "This next part is far from inspiring" or "After that it is far from interesting," it becomes hard to get excited. I began this book with boyish fantasies of secrets and science fiction, but was quickly tamed by the reality that most of the cool stuff that has been worked on in the last 60 years is still highly classified and thus not in any book, nor anywhere for that matter.

Finkbeiner conducted most of her interviews over the phone for this book, and I can't help but feel that may have lent a staleness to the story's progression as well. The books suffers from it's exhaustiveness. There is too much information given about things that aren't interesting. It makes the few interesting portions zoom by.

The subjects of this book are a group of very highly qualified academic physicists, a group even Finbeiner reminds us is arrogant and snobby. And while they may do some great things for this country behind the scenes (like studies on aging nuclear weapons, how to dismantle them safely, etc.), those arrogant snobs make for terrible bedside reading.

Work of the Ancients "The Forge and The Crucible" by Mircea Eliade

2007-06-03T15:40:00.000-07:00

Alchemy is mysterious and wondrous and, I think, interesting. I happened across this book through conversation, found it a great starting point to learn about this ancient process that goes so far back in human history and is steeped in tradition, sacred initiation, secrets, and religion.

Eliade basically traces alchemy back to the most primitive religions, gives examples of smiths and metallurgists before alchemy was practiced, and lays the groundwork for alchemy's influence of chemistry (which consequently led to it's decline as a valid practice). Modern science has done away with much of the spiritual side of alchemy, reactions are strictly chemical now, transformation has an explanation (transmutation though is another animal entirely). Eliade, though, skillfully moves through the history of alchemy and enlightens us to a vastly different world, one where people interact with metals as if they are alive, because they believe we came from rocks, they believe in a cosmogony that is holistic and encompasses everything, not just man.

Personally, I find alchemy fascinating. The fact that Newton, the father of modern science, was deeply rooted in alchemy yet persisted on keeping it secret, published books based on alchemical models and did away with alchemy as a serious pursuit is something to be pondered. The symbolism alchemy provides, the inveterate research and prolific work of C.G. Jung on it, is both useful and helpful.

I understand very little about alchemy in and of itself, and I probably never will know much more than an inkling of surface knowledge, but I find it's explanation of the universe, the symbolism of the Philosopher's Stone and Elixir Vitae, the holistic nature, and the fact that it is such an old idea has some basis of validity for me, and I will not be satisfied until I know more.

The alchemist's ultimate goal was to speed nature up and transmute metals into gold, since it was believed that, given time, that is the endgame for all metals. Spiritually, they must abide by several things to keep on that path. It is that path, that symbolism, that ignites my imagination.

It also probably helps that I love mysteries and mysterious things. Check it out on wikipedia.

The Real Lost "Island of the Blue Dolphins" by Scott O'Dell

2007-06-03T14:51:00.000-07:00

A few months ago Aubrey and I went to Catalina Island, one of a chain of islands off the Los Angeles coast, and on the way our conversation veered to the "Island of the Blue Dolphins". On an island neighboring Catalina, San Nicolas, in the late 1800s, a girl was found, alone, having survived the last twenty-some years on her own. She spoke no understandable language, and the rest of her people had long since passed. I was fascinated.

The book is a fictionalization of the girl's account. It's based on a few facts, but it really did happen. Karana, the girl, became a woman during her stay on the island, she overcame fears about hunting as a woman (forbidden in her tribe), fears of isolation, all while maintaining a consistent hope and goodness. Her story is one that should be heard, and one that should be followed, because at its core it is a story about how resourceful people can be, how instincts do help, and how living in harmony with the world around you is one of the most important things for sustainability.

I don't have much to say about the book other than that I enjoyed it immensely. Karana's relationships with the animals on the island, I found her domestication of a wild dog and birds and, briefly, a fox, heartwarming and sincere. Her struggle was dramatic and the book was fantastically told. It's a young adult book, but I really think that categories like "young adult" should be done away with. Anyone can read a young adult book, and anyone can enjoy it. Case in point: Harry Potter.

For some interactive fun on the Island, go here.

A Changed Man "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka

2007-05-09T17:49:00.001-07:00

I've never read Kafka, and until a week ago, I'd only heard of him.

After I started reading The Metamorphosis, I tried explaining the story to Aubrey. A man wakes up transformed into a dung beetle, no explanation is given, and he must face his boss and his family. His family (especially his father) are revolted and force him into his room, where his sister sneaks food to him while he longs to "get better" and have a normal life again while continuing to transform and becoming accustomed to, even liking, his new form. That was a third of the way through the book. Aubrey quoted a line from Annie Hall in which Shelley Duvall remarks that sex with Woody Allen's character is a "very Kafkaesque experience". The smile left her face and she said the book sounded depressing, to which I hesitated.

"It's not, it's a metaphor for isolation and loneliness," I retorted. But that didn't help, and after further reflection, it makes it sound even more depressing. It's not though, oddly enough.

Kafkaesque is a term for surreal, illogical situations. It can also be accompanied by a sense of impending danger. Gregor Samsa, the metamorphosized, ill-fated protagonist, accepts his fate, tries to live accordingly, and dies a lonely death totally ostracized from his family. But it's a lot more surreal, funny, and playful than that. Really. I think it's that the tone is upbeat. Gregor is hopeful, he still has dreams, and his situation is funny.

I really enjoyed this book. It's short but filled with colorful characters and situations, so if you've got a couple hours and want to read something that will really blow your mind, try this. Kafka is a great writer. Interesting, also, is the type of writer he was. He felt compelled to write, and once that was established, he said that it consumed him, transformed him, made him think of nothing else, much like Gregor Samsa (Samsa = Kafka) the longer he was a dung beetle. He liked to watch his characters die a spectacular but bittersweet death, much the way he envisioned he would go, mourned into oblivion. It's fascinating, really.

I'm a big fan of surrealism, and The Metamorphosis was definitely surreal. On that note then, I must recommend this book. But, if you don't have time, even though that's no excuse (because it's a scant 60 pages), there's an interesting interpretation here.

Yep, Snap Judgments "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell

2007-05-09T17:17:00.000-07:00

My desire to read The Tipping Point came from a few seconds I spent perusing Blink in a book store a few years ago. It was an amazing book, with fantastic insight and knowledge into fads, ideas, and their cause and effect on culture.

Just now getting to the book that ultimately inspired me to read The Tipping Point seems a little backwards, ironic but chronologically correct, I suppose, but it just happened that way. A snap judgment on a book about snap judgments. Hmmm, ponder that a moment.

Blink, besides those first impressions left on me in the book store some years ago (notably Gladwell's discussion of the impulses of improv groups and the idea that one of the most important rules of successful improv is that of accepting suggestions) did not bode well for the book as a whole. Rather, it left me a little disappointed, wanting and hoping for more. I shall explain, but quickly.

The idea of Blink is that, given expertise on a judgment, faith in ability, and thoughtful approach, trusting your snap judgments can prove to be a very powerful tool in decision making. Indeed, the power of the mind, the unconscious mind in particular, is fascinating. Intuition rarely leads us astray, and often when we abandon our first notion in lieu of a more thought-out approach, we get it wrong. Gladwell does a great job of presenting these and other ideas through several interesting stories, anecdotes, and psychological and sociological studies. What he fails to do is follow that up with any real insight of his own. The book ultimately turned out to be chapter after chapter of how people could make snap decisions, could tell so much from such a small sliver of time (what he calls "thin-slicing"), but did not follow that up with any insight as to how the every day person might do that.

And the reason he can't is because it's, well, common sense. I hesitate to say that he wrote a book that could have been an article, with it's conclusion and theme leaning towards "trust yourself" or "follow your instincts". But I must: an article would have been sufficient.

The fact that I read not just this book, but Gladwell's other book too, based on a judgment I made very quickly from only a few pages, attests to the power of instincts. Yet somehow I don't feel that I needed a book to tell me that and give me examples of it. I want enlightenment.

And I want it now.

My Book To-Do List

2007-05-02T08:55:00.000-07:00

I love lists, I've found. I love crossing things off, I love surrendering my memory to a piece of paper.

So, I'm going to put up a list of books I'd like to read. I think I'll do it by year, then I'll be able to assess it at the end of the year and see how close I actually came to getting through my list. Keeping a list of books I'd like to read also has other, less serious, implications. I get excited about what's coming up. My imagination reacts to what it doesn't know, and sometimes, I like thinking about what a book has to offer more than the actual book itself. In this way I believe I'll be able to look at my list and daydream for hours on end about the books I will read.

A few rules:
1. The books are in no particular order, so I can read whichever I feel like, whenever I feel like.
2. The list is a goal, however, and it is limited. There are so many books I'd like to read, these are just the ones I'd like to get through this year.
3. There is no penalty for not finishing all the books, but if I do, I think I'll buy myself a pizza, like the BookIt club used to.
4. This list is all about fun, if it becomes a burden, I'll delete it, or just abandon it and it will stay on the right of this web page.

That's it. This post is more for me than for anyone else. So I'm sorry you had to read this if you came across this blog or if you're subscribed to it on email. (I'm especially sorry to Aubs, who has to live with me and put up with this kind of thing full time.)

I'm afraid I will be neurotically reading forever.

Pretty Gritty Things "All The Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy

2007-05-02T07:53:00.000-07:00

Two or three years ago, I walked into Dutton's, a bookstore on Magnolia in Burbank, CA, and was informed that all the books in the store, including used copies, were 50% off the marked price. They were closing and consolidating to a main shop a few miles away. Though I was sad to see such a great bookstore close, I went hog wild. I left with more books than I needed, and I found myself making lists of books I wanted and returning repeatedly over the next few weeks to check their library and satisfy my literary hunger for a lot cheaper than I was accustomed to.

Chief on my list were the novels of Ernest Hemingway, any classics, and books I'd always wanted to read but never had a chance. I picked up All The Pretty Horses on a whim. Maybe I liked the cover... I can't remember. But reading it these past couple of weeks has completely validated my $3.50 purchase. In hindsight, I'd pay full price.

Cormac McCarthy is a brilliant writer. He nails his characters down to a T, and creates such stunning and rich portraits that you can feel the dust clog your nostrils as the riders in his stories cross the plains of Texas into the dry country of Mexico and beyond. You taste the dried blood. You feel their pain, their hunger, their longing, their out of placeness. With a Cormac McCarthy novel, you feel everything.

This novel follows a young Texas rancher named John Grady Cole. Cole's grandfather passed away and his ranch the only thing left of his possesions. His mother, heir to the ranch, is set on selling it. So he runs away to Mexico with his friend Rawlins. They happen upon an oasis, a sprawling ranch amid the arid landscape, and become ranch hands. Cole meets and falls in love with the ranch owner's daughter, Alejandra, and he and Rawlins begin to "break" wild horses. The scenes Cole speaks to horses are some of the most tender and amazing in the novel.

Cole and Rawlins end up in a dangerous Mexican jail for helping a kid named Jimmy Blevins get his horse back after a lightning storm, and both nearly die in knife fights. They are released from prison, and Cole tries to win back Alejandra but finds out that she made a promise to her grandmother that she would never see him again if she paid the jail to release Cole and his friend.

Heartbroken, alone, and desperate, Cole goes back to Texas, where nothing is left for him. He rounds up the horses he lost and takes them with him, leaving everywhere for nowhere, not sure where to call home, not sure if his heart is in anything at all.

Amid so many striking, poignant scenes in the novel is the setting. It's not the old west, it's the 1950's. Cole is the last in a long line of Texas ranchers, he's a dying breed, and when he and Rawlins run away, they do so on their horses, riding along roads and cars going much faster than them. These two worlds coexist subtextually, but the subtleness comes through, and adds a haunting dimension to the novel.

One last note, John Grady Cole is only 16, yet he's a strong character. He's a man. He knows right from wrong and he won't budge from his morals for anything or anyone, not even if he's facing death. I'd be friends with him. I admire him. I guess that's part of the power of this story. It's a time gone past and yet here still today. Today it's tough to meet a twenty-something that's an adult, much less a man. So I like John Grady Cole.

I highly recommend this novel, but beware, the prose is hypnotic and engrossing. The tale is as captivating as anything you'll read, but it might haunt you, just a little bit. The subtext of this novel lasts far longer, far more subconsciously, than should be rightly admitted.

Quite a Man Indeed "Man Without a Country" by Kurt Vonnegut

2007-04-14T17:17:00.000-07:00

I started reading this book the day Kurt Vonnegut passed away. I didn't know yet, of course, and it's probably too soon to write that so abrasively, but I don't think he would mind. I was reading so I would be up to speed when I would see him live in a couple of months at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. I was reading his latest, his last finished book, because I was interested in what he had to say.

A Man Without a Country is a fantastic essay about the everything from the sad state of the world to how to write well to how to just enjoy life (he uses the phrase, quite apropos, it probably stuck out at me because of the timing, "If I should die - God forbid -"). It's full of wit and wisdom and humor and the ultimate insight into comedy: it's not comedy, it's tragedy, but it's an escape from tragedy. I couldn't agree with him more. The funniest situations, the best comical stories, are the ones that teeter on the edge of disaster. They're also the most insightful.

That's what makes Kurt Vonnegut, and this book, so indispensable. It's so honest and witty that nearly every phrase bears repeating. Every idea he presents is solid. And, for the most part, I agree. I can see why he is a man without a country. It's his honesty, his plainness, that makes him so easy to read. You don't read his books, you are his books, you become his books, you interact with everything. It's like talking to the man himself. If he were to start a religion, I'd be hard-pressed not to ascribe. Oh wait, he did. Bokonon.

So it goes.

And so A Man Without a Country goes. It goes where many have been, where many will get to, but it goes there at its own pace, in its own way. Read it. That's all I can say. It's entertaining, it's honest, but most of all, it is the pleading of a man that can see the future. Or, maybe, as he says of Einstein and Shakespeare and the like, maybe he's just a huge plagiarist and writes down what the future tells him.

Mr. Vonnegut, you will be sorely missed.

More Corn with your Corny Beef? The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan

2007-04-07T17:00:00.000-07:00

If you eat food, you should read this book. It's as important as any book about food is these days.

Though it may be about food, it's not a diet book. Though it does offer tips on healthy eating and living, it's not a book about that specifically. The Omnivore's Dilemma is much more than that, it transcends to new heights about food, what we eat, and how we "think" about what we eat (i.e. why we cook meat). It's a fantastic journey, and Pollan, the author, is the ideal guide.

This is the first book I've read by Michael Pollan, it's safe to say it won't be my last. Pollan gets to the bottom of his subject. He immerses himself in all points of view, and ultimately lays out his conclusions with rational connections and telling insights.

Pollan dissects and breaks down four meals. A simple idea that provides a wealth of ground to cover. First, he dissects the industrial-agriculture complex, where corn is king, and eats a meal at McDonald's. Corn is in everything: most processed foods, it's fed to cows (not corn-eaters, grass-eaters), chickens (also not corn eaters by nature), farm-raised salmon, and most other animals strictly because of its plentitude. Corn is grown by American Farmers that are on the verge of bankruptcy. The crop is plentiful due to it's resilience and (i think, un)healthful symbiosis with humans. Corn is in a lot of stuff - notably soda - but it could be any crop. The harm is in the fact that corn is a monoculture, that it creates excess in so many areas of the environment, much unlike the way agriculture should be (which thrives as a polyculture, i.e. mini ecosystems). The reasons why it continues, though, are plentiful, but mainly because it provides a low-cost-high-producing way to feed the growing population of the earth, to which the traditional methods of farming can no longer support.

Pollan's other meals include a trip to his local Whole Foods for an organic meal (which resembles the non-organic supermarket equivalents more closely than you'd imagine), a trip and extended stay on a polyculture farm that provides the most ideal setting for growing and selling food, though it can only be done on a local scale, and a meal that he has hunted and foraged all on his own.

I hesitate to give away much more about the book because to do so would discount the wealth of information offered. There's just too much to summarize, too many points for everything, good and bad. I will say, though, that I've found a new appreciation for what I am eating, and how I think about what I am eating. Pollan's last meal, the one he hunted and foraged himself, gave me personal satisfaction, insight, and appreciation of hunting, gathering, cultivating, and foraging as well. Though hunting is that barbaric, uncivilized part of society, it's still there, it's as much a part of the cycle of life, and the food chain, as anything (including eating a burger in a fast food restaurant). The founder of PETA was a meat-eater (a little known fact that is not, guess why, highly publicized), and one of the leading animal rights activists, Peter Singer, tells the author he'd rather an animal be hunted humanely (meaning responsibly) than any animal killed the way they are when they are processed for the supermarket.

Pollan notes that we as an American culture lack a unified culture of food. It's nice to have the diversity, but most of us eat a burger without even a second thought as to where the whole meal came from. Most of it came from a cornfield in Iowa. The meat from a beef processing plant from a cow that didn't live exactly the way we'd like to think of.

My thoughts on this book are choppy and jumbled, I know. It's partially out of excitement to share the information while at the same time hold back so that there's something to enjoy. So read it, please, and start thinking about what you eat and eat responsibly. Plus, I'm getting hungry, and I need to figure out what I'm going to eat for dinner.

I've got my own ominivorous dilemma to tend to.

Thumbs Sideways Sideways by Rex Pickett

2007-03-10T17:29:00.000-08:00

Hmmmmm.

First of all. The movie's better. It's rare that happens, even rarer that I enjoy saying that. Still, it's true.

Now then, that that's out of the way - Sideways - a fortunately quick read told by a protagonist that really takes some getting used to (if you ever do get used to him) that wanders and meanders to who knows where and ends up just as lost.

I'm sorry, I'll really try to make some sense.

This novel follows two middle-aged men on a week-long wine binge before one of them gets married. Miles, a struggling/failed writer is at wit's end in his personal and professional lives, is supposed to clash comedically with Jack, the fun-loving, charismatic, mildly successful B-actor about to get married. They're best friends, if you didn't already guess that, and they're out for one last hurrah in Santa Ynez wine country. They both drink from morning to midnight, mostly wine, in what seems to be a fictional story set in a very non-fiction world. The restaurants are real, the wineries are real, the hotels are real.

Yet, none of this makes a shred of difference. The characters aren't real, and if they are, I don't care because they're crass and dispicable and unfunny and full of predictable lines. Sure, there are a few moments shining with insight, but they are as rare as the laughs. Jack's recurring injuries that mimic his inner struggle to kill his upcoming marriage was the one saving grace in a novel full poorly plotted and even more poorly executed. I'm just glad it was quick and that they made a movie out of the book that made wine-tasting seem more enjoyable than delinquent.

I can only hope that I don't sound as pretentious and snobby about wine when I do learn about it, because I am trying desperately to learn, and that I can enjoy it without turning my nose up at the next guy.

Wow! That was bad. It actually turned out a lot worse than I thought it would. I guess I really didn't like that book. Eeh!

Maybe I'll have some wine with my whining. Maybe some Merlot.

Miracle-Gro "Where the Red Fern Grows" by Wilson Rawls

2007-03-04T21:29:00.000-08:00

I've been on a kick lately of reading books I never got the chance to read. When I told Aubrey I'd never read Where the Red Fern Grows she told me I had to read it, that it was the first book she read and reread zealously as a child. I was intrigued.

But I tread lightly. Aubrey likes books that are sad, her recommendations are books that make one want to cry their weeks away, to wallow in the sadness, to feel the deepest, saddest emotions the earth has afforded us.

And still, I had to read it. I'm glad I did.

Billy saves up money for two years to buy some hunting dogs so he can hunt coons in the foggy river bottoms of Ozark Country, which is quite a feat for any young boy. He finally gets his dogs and trains them with patience and care matching that of the most committed trainers, and breeds two of the best hunting dogs. Billy and his dogs go out night after night, and they form one of the strongest bonds ever illustrated in a book.

This book started slow, and though I was into the ideas of it, I had a hard time getting into it. I stayed patient, and it payed off. About halfway through I was hooked, and at the end I was so devastated yet hopeful that I could see why Aubrey loved this book, why she had read it again and again. This story not only evoked feelings within me I had long since forgotten, it transported me to a time and place I love to go. The south, the Ozarks, the woods, hunting with two loyal dogs in the woods, skirting disaster at every turn with the imagination and invincibility we all feel we have at such a young age.

Where the Red Fern Grows is a timeless classic, worth every page, worth the slow beginning, and definitely worth the miraculous end. I wish I had read this book when I was younger, but then again, I'm kindof glad I didn't. I'm kindof glad Aubrey recommended this book to me, glad she had me pinned that I would love this book. And I'm glad I listened.

He that troubleth his own house Shall "Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee

2007-02-05T18:13:00.000-08:00

In college, I took a "Law and Literature" class that assigned this book as one of the reading choices. We were assigned six books over the semester, and allowed to skip one of them. I chose The Brothers Karamazov over this one, and opted to weigh myself down with a dense and hard to finish novel over a simple play. I never finished that heavy novel (though I intend to one day re-attempt it, when I have the time), but I did recently plop myself on a chair for a couple hours and breeze through Inherit the Wind.

This play is quite famous, and its subject matter still topic for heated debate. Creation versus Evolution. What is right, what is wrong, and what is worth teaching in the classroom. Sadly enough, the main battle in this play, the debate over whether children should be taught evolution as well as creation, still plagues our classrooms today. Teachers cannot speak of God for fear of reprimand, yet they cannot fairly present Darwin or his ideas either. And who loses?

"He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind." That quote begins this play, and provides the thread along which events unfold. The back flap touts this play as the tense battle between two courtroom titans, drama for the ages. There are some great ideas in this play. Ignorance is exposed in its ugly glory, while the playwrights opt for a bittersweet victory in which no one really wins, and the battle, justifiably so, continues past the last page.

I enjoyed most the stance that creation and evolution can live in harmony, the idea of the creation story as a metaphor for evolution rather than literally, that science doesn't always have to disprove faith. And while I personally subscribe to evolution, I sure do enjoy fitting the beauty of seven days into a billion years, where one day holds the big bang, another the dinosaurs, and our lives just a sliver of a second in the time of the universe.

Bloody Awesome! "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" by J.K. Rowling

2007-02-05T18:00:00.000-08:00

I'm hoping I can say something new, something other than "I loved it" or "it was awesome" about this book, but I'm not sure I can. The Half-Blood Prince, Rowling's sixth installment in the series of seven about wizards and Hogwarts and, of course, Harry Potter, not only ups the ante, but does so with style, grace, and a whole heap of pitsweat and tears.

This installment follows Harry as he delves into the past of Voldemort, an ex-student at Hogwarts then known as Tom Riddle. Harry comes into his own as a confident, sarcastic, and very brave young man who is getting a handle on the magical history he is a part of, as well as the responsibility it comes with. Also a treat in this book is the amount of time we get to spend with Dumbledore.

Most refreshing is the sense of growth in the characters (and, incidentally, the author's style) as Harry's years at Hogwarts pass. Not only are we witness to a contemporary coming-of-age story, but the solidity of confidence and absolute mastery of storytelling by Rowling.

And yet, Rowling knows when to pull up the reins. The story moves along swiftly, like a bird in full flight, towards that ultimate and inevitable dive back to Earth. The Harry Potter story is not finished, and although I foresee re-reading all seven novels in a few years I, for one, cannot wait for the seventh to hit the shelves.

The Order of Greatness "The Order of the Phoenix" by Harry Potter

2007-01-23T18:46:00.000-08:00

Wow. I mean whoa! I mean holy crap this book is good. When this book came out I was working at a bookstore, and I sat idly by as people stormed the shelves for this book. As I did, I hurumphed and thought to myself, "What's the big deal? Why all the hooplah? It's just a silly little story about for young adults, some toss aside read."

Boy, was I wrong. The Harry Potter series just keeps getting better. Book 5 is absolutely amazing, and what J.K. Rowling has managed to do with these characters is just stunning to watch. Many nights I found myself reading into the wee hours, totally engrossed, entranced, off in the faraway land of Hogwarts dreading the Dark Lord Voldemort's imminent return. I'd end a chapter and come to, relieved that it was only a book, but believing in so much more.

The Harry Potter series is very multi-layered. And, contrary to what I believed a few years ago, it's not just a story for young adults. So much more is going on in these novels. The characters are so real and so alive and everything that's happening, while heightened to a fantastic level, is truthful and insightful to an astonishing degree. The level of detail in these books is jaw-dropping. I am a fan for life. Nothing has been such a joy to read since The Lord of the Rings, and while I have many favorite stories, those that I can come back to time and time again and learn something new about myself and the world with each visit are the most worthwhile. Harry Potter is one of those stories, and I look forward to revisiting it in the very near future.

Beautiful Number "The Golden Ratio" by Mario Livio

2007-01-01T13:31:00.000-08:00

It's been said to be featured in The Mona Lisa. The dimensions of the Great Pyramid supposedly hold this value. Great symphonies can be described by this one number.

Phi.

1.61803... to infinity. The motherload of irrational numbers. More mysterious than Pi. And this book, The Golden Ratio, explains it all. Its history, how it was discovered, its supposed uses, and false claims to its use in several of the most wondrous monuments and works of art.

I love math. I love numbers. I love the interaction and how they interpret the world so wondrously, and so I love books that explain their presence.

The Golden Ratio was not what I expected it would be. It surpassed my expectations, but for many reasons which may not seem immediately clear. Livio deduces that pretty much all ancient structures and paintings supposedly constructed out of the mysterious Phi are false, that Phi was not discovered, that it's mainly due to the inherent construction that it's number comes up (what he calls number juggling, or making numbers work for you arbitrarily). He basically proves there is no mysterious connection of Da Vinci, the Great Pyramid, Ancient Greece, or most art and music to the Golden Ratio due to unsubstantial evidence. Either the artist or the designer had no access to the Golden Number, or the number's existence is there because of some fancy number juggling.

I respect that. It takes the mysteriousness out of the number. It makes it more believable. And, because it does show up all over nature (in mollusk shells, the space and rotation of tree branches, the shape of galaxies, anything explained by a Fibonnaci sequence, and any type of fractal) even more wondrous.

Livio breaks down myths about this numbers to support its fantastic capabilities. He also gets into some interesting philosophical discussions inspired by this number about whether math is the ultimate "language of the cosmos" or if it is simply an invention of man and so a mediocre tool that is only the tip of the iceberg of what is really going on. It's interesting reading, and really quite insightful.

Math buffs, history buffs, and knowledge mongrels will find this book fascinating. I suggest picking it up if you have a chance. And when you do, ask yourself, what's your favorite number?

Phi's mine.

Do Ants Have Souls? "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran

2007-01-01T12:50:00.000-08:00

The Prophet is one of the ultimate self-help books. It's religion wrapped in philosophy wrapped in how to live and feel about your life. And it's pretty good, so, for the new year, try something different.

Read this.

I was highly skeptical when a friend let me borrow this book to read. I'd heard about this book before, that it's a staple of New Age feelings and a sort of "listen to the Earth" mentality. I imagine dancing in a circle covering myself interpretively with glue. I made a judgment and I was wrong. The book was very insightful.

As a matter of fact, if I had read this book earlier in life, I feel it would have made a much more profound impact on me, but, having passed a particularly impressionistic point in my life, it didn't have as much influence. Another book I read much earlier, The Alchemist, did in its stead. I've often come back to The Alchemist when I needed inspiration or direction or a path to an answer. The Prophet is equally as insightful.

This tiny book revolves around one man's leaving a town (the prophet of the story) where he has resided for some time. Before he leaves, all sorts of townspeople seek his advice on topics ranging from love to loss to work and so on. The Prophet's answers are short and succinct, even at times a little hippy-ish, but they represent just the type of outlook on the world I strive to have. Be happy with what you get, because you won't get anything else. It's important to dream, to strive for something, because that's what we live for.

Pick this book up when you've got a couple of hours. Your life may not change, but your hours certainly will.

A Whole New World "His Dark Materials" by Philip Pullman

2007-01-01T12:40:00.000-08:00

Early on in The Golden Compass, the first book in His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman, I became very afraid. It's not that the stories were scary, okay, they were a little, it's that I began to worry about getting obsessed with the ideas presented in the books. That it would consume me, that I would have to learn everything these books talked about, was not something I had time for.

I didn't become obsessed, but I did become a little bit of a geek for a split second. One split second.

His Dark Materials is a fantasy trilogy filled with magic and wonder and suspence that succeeds because the ideas the books are based on are actual physical phenomena. But that's about the only reason they do succeed. I have to say I was fairly disappointed with the writing, the plot twists, and the storytelling in general. That said, there's a lot going in this trilogy that makes it worthwhile. Specifically, I like the way the stories deal with religion, and how Pullman turns a young adult trilogy of novels (although he refuses to market them as young adult books) into, at times, a philosophical inquiry into the nature of religion, morality, and how the two mesh.

Also interesting were the use of modern day physics to account for religious occurences. Pullman wondrously equates quantum physics with the presence of angels and souls as if they were one. The ideas are solid, it's only too bad the execution isn't as strong.

His Dark Materials is a healthy alternative to fantasy fans looking for something to bide their time before the next Harry Potter book hits the shelves this summer. It's not as magical as Harry Potter, it's not as intoxicating nor is it even as close to good, but it gets the job done. It's definitely worth the time if you're into science and religion and fantasy. If not, don't bother. You'll be wishing some other dark materials on the books.

A Whale of A Time "Moby Dick" by Herman Melville

2006-10-04T18:15:00.000-07:00

After all's said and done, I wish I could write that I thoroughly enjoyed Moby Dick. I wish I could say that the book was solid from start to finish, that I couldn't put it down, that I've ran twenty marathons.

But I cannot.

Moby Dick is a massive book about more than just a massive whale (the term "leviathan" says it best, I think). The title refers to a famed white whale with a malformed lower jaw and savagery that equals his pursuers. He's one of the largest sperm whales still alive in the sea, certainly the most ruthless, and, obsession-wise, the hardest to kill. Still, physically, he's not present in the book more than fifty pages. Most of what we see of Moby Dick is through the relentless pursuit of him by Captain Ahab on the famed Pequod.

Ishmael (of "Call me Ishmael" first-line fame) is a deck-hand on the ship and witnesses first hand this voyage of revenge. Shortly after their departure from Nantucket, what seems like a normal whaling voyage turns into a search for a whale that took the recluse Captain Ahab's leg (now filled in with whale-bone ivory). Ahab's a little pissed about their last encounter, he can't think sanely about the whole matter, so he convinces his crew that Moby Dick must be caught. By God, they agree.

And throughout all of this we get to find out every single detail of every single thing they do. What type of rope they use to string harpoons on to throw at the whales, the history of boats, the history and different kinds of whales, so much so that in the end it feels less like fiction and more like animated history.

I like history, I love historical stories, but I easily get lost in details that have no real relivance to the story. Indeed, while I was reading it, I tried to remember the time and place this book was written in, I tried to put myself in the shoes of someone wanting all of this auxiallary knowledge, I tried to imagine, in short, reading the Great American Novel (as Moby Dick started) and I just couldn't do it. I ended up trailing off, thinking about the football game, disinterested in how many feet of rope is generally loosed to account for a leeward sway while the whale runs.

Writing this review now though, after some distance from the novel itself (I finally finished it late last week), I have to take my hat off to Melville for creating a completely engrossing world. At times, I could feel myself sailing on the Pequod, and the moments chasing whales, especially Moby Dick, were so well written my knuckles were white. Spiced in also are what could be considered essays on whaling and religion and philosophy that I found quite interesting, only I wasn't ready for them in a fiction book. I got them nonetheless, and, after some getting used to, was glad for it.

What Melville does best is create allegory with intense realism that gives the story so many more layers. He finds the metaphors in life, and gives them meaning. In the end, that's what makes this a Great American Novel, and though it may be a while, maybe never, until I read this novel again, I will never forget its message of savagery and revenge and the utter desperate tragicness of those wasted emotions that comes so clearly across in the story.

I'd still recommend it, but with two precautions. One, know that there is a lot of extra information, maybe pertinent, maybe not, you get out what you put in. And two, be ready for a committment, because this novel demands it.

Oh, and three, if you see a whale, the proper terminology is always, "There she blows!" because you spot a whale when she breathes, from the water that comes out of her spout.

Ishmael.

Physics 401 "The Fabric of the Cosmos" by Brian Greene

2006-08-23T17:40:00.000-07:00

The Fabric of the Cosmos is a huge book. It took me about four months to get through, and that's without stopping to really grasp some of the more complicated topics discussed. I picked it up out of innocent curiousity, merely wanting to know more about physics, and I heard this book was accessible and enlightening. So, instead of the oft-discussed A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking, I went with this.

Let me first say that I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Brian Greene writes for the layman. His examples of the complicated world of physics involve The Simpsons and X-Files, among other things, making the learning both fun and interesting, and well worth-while. He also lets the reader know when an overly complicated piece is about to be explained and purges any guilt by saying that there's no harm in just skimming over the section. I mean, what's not to like about this guy.

Still, about halfway through, I couldn't help but feel like I was taking a distance learning physics course. Greene gives the entire history of physics, including a thorough treatment of Einstein's theories (with ample Simpsons examples as noted above) and dives into the present and onto the future. Greene has done something quite amazing with this book, he's made complicated physics accessible to the masses while consolidating current research and breakthroughs into one volume, making this book useful to working physicists and rocket scientists and robot designers. That's just a guess.

The distance learning feeling isn't a bad thing though. It's like jumping in the water without getting your feet wet. What I loved most about reading this book is that the topics it covers are exciting. I learned a lot, and even though I'll probably never put any of this knowledge to use, it got the rusty abstract wheels in my head turning. And Greene's a great teacher because he assumes no prior knowledge from his class, so he explains it all, with wonder, which makes it even more dazzling.

Covered in this "course" are the history of phyisics from Newton to Einstein to recent ideas like The Higgs Ocean (basically that air is an entity - which I think makes perfect sense) and electromagnetism to current research on String Theory and Super String Theory and all of their entanglements and excitements. Greene also broaches philosophical subjects, which is inevitable when dealing with the abstract because it is the abstract that much of philosophy encompasses. While I didn't agree with him on most subjects (i.e. teleporting a person, or making a perfect clone, would make the person identical to you down to the last ounce vs. where I think a person cloned would not have the intangible qualities of soul, but would instead have a fresh soul. But I digress because this is obviously a longer discussion better suited for a message board or club meeting, right?) I did find his viewpoint unique and insightful.

The point? If you're of a curious mind, don't want to spend the money for a college course, but want to learn all about physics in one place, if you don't mind not taking tests (wha...?), and if you like to be inspired by words, this book is for you. But be prepared for a committment, and make sure you plan for a vacation when you're done.

As for me, school's out for summer! And as for you, if you pick it up, enjoy!

I like this cover, mostly because of the fluid spiral that I believe is supposed to resemble a string, a tiny plunk length string. But I could be wrong. My mind is mush right now and this book's the last thing on my mind (end of school sigh).

Crappy Twin "Bad Twin" by Gary Troup

2006-08-17T18:35:00.000-07:00

I screamed "No!" from page one, but the geek in me, well, the geek in me wanted some answers.

Let's switch universes. We're in Lost reality now, not our world, but the world where Oceanic Flight 815 existed and crashed and one of its passengers was an author, an author of Bad Twin. Now switch back, so we can geek out.

There's a TV show called Lost that just started shooting its third season, and during the break an alternate reality game started called "The Lost Experience". This experience blurs the lines between reality and story world, it crosses over characters in the form of actors. The Lost Experience has encompassed TV commercials, the internet, and now, a book. It's big drawing point is that it's going to explain the numbers (4-8-15-16-23-42), though probably not completely and not without a ton of heavy handed advertising (these people aren't doing this for free, right? they got to get rich!).

In season 2, Hurley's reading a manuscript, called "Bad Twin". He makes mention of the fact that it's really good (don't believe him, his taste is horrible). In an effort to get money from suckers like me (I checked it out from the library, though, so ha!) Hyperion released "Bad Twin" under the pseudonym Gary Troup (A fictional character from the show that was sucked into one of the engines in the pilot episode. He was also a flight attendant named Cindy, whom we haven't seen much of but is going to be part of the third season). "Bad Twin" was one word off from being an apropos title: "Bad Book". It's just as well the real author didn't put their name on it, because it's one of the worst books I've ever read.

Ever.

It's not even worth it to attempt to describe the muddled plot. Just know that none of the dialog is real, all of the descriptions are cliches, and there isn't one instance when you actually believe or are engulfed by the story or the characters. It looks like the people behind this book just threw something together with tangential references to things or people related to the show. In the end, even that was poorly done.

If it helps, anyone interested in The Lost Experience, but not wanting to waste time on this book, here is what is mentioned but never explained: The Hanso Corporation is housed in the Widmore building (which Hurley visits to talk about his money in season 1), Mittlewerk is a man that works for Hanso and is also on the Widmore Corporation's board, there are mentions of the Helios Foundation (people hoping for a new Eden), a Noah's Ark Foundation, the dog's name is Argos, another Greek name, and, per usual, a laundry list of appropriate books are mentioned that may or may not have clues (the book list is so big that nearly anything could).

Other than that, it's a bunch of mumbo jumbo hogwash that goes nowhere and satisfies nothing. With writing like "he got naked to the skin" or "the sugar and caffeine were in a footrace towards his brain" you've got to wonder why and how and over who's dead body did this get out there. Even if it's author was made infamous by a flight that disappeared somewhere between Australia and Los Angeles.

Or did it?

The conspiracy continues, but at least for me, it won't continue in any future books written by dead passengers from Oceanic Flight 815. I've got the geek under control. For now. God Speed.

The cover, like the book, is thrown together. So it too, is good...for me to poop on.

No Holes Here "I Am The Cheese" by Robert Cormier

2006-08-15T17:36:00.000-07:00

I Am the Cheese is one of my longtime favorite books. I just recently bought it and thought, hmm, I think I'd like to share this with Aubrey, the soon-to-be misses.

Whenever I share something I like I get nervous because when I like a book or a film or a piece of art, it becomes a piece of me because I make it my own. Every book I read that I love both takes and leaves profound moments from and in my life. So, as usual, I was nervous, hoping Aubrey would like it.

She did. And, even though it's been a few years since I read this book, it was a hell of a ride, no pun intended. The books starts off with a bang:

I am pedaling furiously and I am on Route 31 in Monument, Massachusetts, on my way to Rutterburg, Vermont, and I'm pedaling furiously because this is an old-fashioned bike...

I've always loved the beginning of this book. The picture of this kid pedaling furiously, bike tires rotating endlessly, off to somewhere. But we're not concerned with that, we're just concerned about the breathing, the hard bike ride ahead, because this kid is going all the way to Vermont from Massachussets, on bike.

It's the all-consuming sense of freedom, of being on a bike on the open road, that attracts me. There's all this danger in the world, you're so vulnerable on a bike, and yet you go, and you feel the wind on your face, and it's all self-sufficient. You are your own momentum. Ahhh.

Without giving too much away, I will say that, for a young adult audience, this book takes some very heavy-handed themes on. Most interesting are the ideas of protection and secrecy, predeterminism vs. free will (or the sense of freedom, being able to make your own choice, vs. the idea that everything you do is being manipulated by someone else, conciously or unconciously), and the awkwardness of young love.

The book flips back and forth between Adam Farmer riding his bike to Rutterburg with a package for his father and an interview, presumably in a psychiatric hospital, between unnamed "T" and unnamed "A". As Adam Farmer makes his way across the state and encounters his own obstacles, more is revealed about the patient "A", and the paths of these parallel stories begin to converge, leading to an inevitable intersection and, ultimately, the revelation of an unthinkable secret.

This book was a pleasure to read. I can't give it any more of a recommendation than to say that Aubrey was hanging on its every word. I caught her reading ahead once (I was reading it aloud to her, which I highly recommend doing, by the way) and pulled the book away so she couldn't see. The suspense had her wide-eyed and breathless. It was great to watch.

I Am the Cheese is a fabulous book. Whoever you are, whereever you may be going, pick it up, I dare you. You'll pee your pants.

The cover is awesome. It's simple, and, like every nail-biting chapter in the book, tells the whole story without giving anything away.

Hitting the Tylenol PM, Hard The Sandman part 1 by Neil Gaiman et al.

2006-08-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

I have to be honest, I was never hooked on comic books as a kid; I was hooked on the characters. I loved to collect comic book cards, I loved to devour the vital statistics and backstory of every superhero and villain known to man. It was like getting the good stuff without having to make a huge committment. Periodically, my interest bent towards an X-Men or Spider Man comic book, and I was into the Wolverine comic books for a while, but on the whole, it's been a long time.

Until recently. Until The Sandman. It's almost like I've been sleeping all these years. Hmmm.

Sandman is a graphic novel. Graphic novel is a fancy word for adult comic book. It's one of those words we use so we don't sound or feel so childish when we know that, basically, the stigma is that adults don't read comic books. But unlike most of the childish vices we delve into, The Sandman is a comic book that takes you back, that reminds you of the joys of fantastical storytelling. It takes you places, on wings, in style.

Enter the world of Neil Gaiman, writer of The Sandman, where dreams come from an entity whose sister is Death. The Sandman was accidentally summoned by a group of power and life hungry men hoping to capture Death and stay alive forever. Not realizing they had made a mistake, and afraid of upsetting forces they perhaps shouldn't have tampered with, they kept him trapped for years, letting their children inherit their mistakes. The Sandman lost three powerful relics during his enslavement and, when he escaped, came back to a world that hadn't had a good nights rest since he was captured.

Preludes and Nocturnes, the first volume of many, follows The Sandman on a quest to find his lost relics. Along the way, he encounters some characters we've met before (John Constantine, Scarecrow, etc.) and nearly meets up with others more tantallizing (The Justice League of America and Batman, for instance). This alone enriches The Sandman's world, and makes it a pleasure to read the stories.

The artwork is beautifully devastating and the writing gets better with each story. It's neat to see a writer find his voice, try out things that may not have worked but sound really cool conceptually, and finally to see the payoff of what we know is very hard work. While I didn't particularly "buy" all of the stories, I definitely reveled in the fun that they had to offer.

The cover? Come on, it's a comic book cover. It's flippin sweet! Super serial.

Gee Willickers "Town Smokes" by Pinckney Benedict

2006-07-31T18:21:00.000-07:00

With a name like Pinckney Benedict, how can you not be a writer?

Pinckney Benedict. Say it with me, everyone at once, "Pin-ck-ney Ben-a-dict-ttt". Now, wasn't that fun? The moment I heard it, I knew I had to pick up his book. Any book. Whatever! Imagine my convivial motions of gratitude when I found that his first published work was a collection of stories about the South, and not about the easy southern gentrified living associated with stories involving New Orleans ("The Big Easy"), but the back-country south where trailer parks and beer drinking blue collar men (women too) are as much a part of life as the overwhelming sound of crickets at night. Bonus!

These stories deliver. This is Benedict's first collection of short stories (the inside flap says, at the time of publication, he was enrolled in the graduate writing program at the University of Iowa - famous for big names). Even so, his talent is raw and unfettered.

Town Smokes is best when the dialogue isn't forced, which it is, at times. Still, it's pretty hard to write entire stories (which he does) with a country accent and make it believable, so kudos to Benedict for (mostly) succeeding. There are moments that briefly teeter on becoming cliche or too on-the-nose, but Benedict knows, skillfully, when to pull back. His talent really comes through in the suspenseful, devastating story Dog, about a man afraid to pull a dying dog out from underneath his trailer. The title story, too, is a superb coming-of-age allegory that's tender and tough at the same time. A boy struggling to get over the death of his father decides to go into town for some "town smokes", because he's sick of rolling his own tobacco, the way his father did. He realizes he doesn't belong, but that realization brings another, more profound one, and his choice is enlightening and perfect. And the first story in the collection won an award. That means it's good!

The people in these stories come alive with each story, so that by the end you have a whole imagined town, a vignette of the south that's hard to leave because it's so real. It's no escape for the people in these stories, but it's definitely one for me. Benedict is from West Virginia, beautiful country known for its rural ways. I love rural stories, they ignite something inside of me. I'm not sure if that's necessarily a good or bad thing, but I'll take it without too much analysis.

The cover's neat, simple, and conveys the book well. I especially like the saw. I know someone that wants to play a saw. I wonder why she doesn't?

Oh, He's That Dead Guy "Epitaph of a Small Winner" by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis

2006-07-28T12:03:00.000-07:00

In the introduction to The Floating Opera, John Barth writes that he was influenced more by Assis than anyone else in the formation and process of writing his first two novels.

By this recommendation alone, I had to pick it up. I'm glad I did.

Epitaph of a Small Winner's narrator is dead and writing, supposedly, from the grave. His method to write this novel postmortem is left out because "its relation would require an excessive amount of space and ... is unnecessary to an understanding of the work." The protagonist of the novel, Cubas, is a deceased writer writing from infinity, and although he has forever, he realizes we do not.

What results is a fantastical novel of ideas. The plot dawdles like a limp leg dragging, but since there isn't much (it's more of a commentary on life, an epitaph(!)), it's not much of a lag. Once the novel enveloped me in its twisted world, in the narrator Braz Cubas's folly-filled head, I found it hard to get out. I laughed a little, and I like books that make me laugh. Even a little.

Braz Cubas isn't quite the hero of the story, there is no real hero. He's just who the story's about. Nevertheless, he is a self-proclaimed pessimist who always gets what he wants. He's a scoundrel and a heathen, but you like him, you can't help but like him. The self-reflexive, metafictional, beyond the grave wit compliments heartily the narrator's ability to make fun of himself and the situations he's in. It's like Vonnegut in South America, only a tad less funny. There are 160 short chapters in about 220 pages, which leads to a lot of short bits of info smattered with a few devoloped instances in the life of the protagonist.

Still, the novel manages to be walloping fun. At the end of a long life he looks back at what he's accomplished, and reaches a rather deep and profound philosophical insight. Questions about the purpose of life linger after the novel's final pages, and, like the best of novels, its lingering is a good feeling, a satisfied one.

And, if for nothing else, this book is a great study of influence on John Barth. Reading Epitaph was a delight for the sheer pleasure of seeing where Barth got certain ideas, where he picked up some of his style, and how he improved upon a form he liked.

Epitaph of a Small Winner is a small winner. It's no strawberry shortcake or ice cream brownie sunday with extra fudge, but it will satisfy your sweet tooth. Barth fans especially should pick this up - it's a sure fire way to know a book is right up your alley before reading a single word.

The cover's a little dated, but the weird pictures interspersed throughout the book (although sparingly) more than make up for it.

Stop Whining! "The Crying of Lot 49" by Thomas Pynchon

2006-07-14T13:19:00.000-07:00

In college, an old philosophy professor took me into the library. He stopped in an aisle between rows and rows of books, pointed, and said, "To read every one of these books, in this aisle alone, would take a lifetime." He was slightly exaggerating, but his point was clear. There's simply too much in this world to see, to do, to read, so you have to make choices. We make our choices based on what other people say, most times. Recommendations from friends, newsletters, authors we like, even, God forbid, the Amazon recommendation page (come on, you know what I mean). And it's not only books, but movies and drawrings and plays and everything else under the sun. We're all critics now, too, of everything, given the fact that we can write reviews and recommend things we like, and it's easier for us to narrow down what we like based on shared interests in someone's profile. But I digress.

I picked up Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 because I had heard it was a classic. Indeed, many refer to it as his "most accessible work." I tried, really hard, to like this book, because paid critics hailed it as an intellectual masterpiece, because I didn't want to proclaim "I don't really like it" and be scorned, because not liking something someone says is smart makes you dumb, right?

It's not the first time, of course. There are films hailed as masterpieces you're supposed to love that are just torture to get through. And just about anyone can make something that makes absolutely no sense that is high art just because it makes no sense. I have presently an image of a gallery showing in New York with rich intellectuals staring at a picture of a bull with no horns riding a man with beautifully rendered clouds in the background, all trying to make sense of the oddity, when one exclaims, "Brilliant, I'll buy it for $100,000!" and suddenly the obscure picture means something.

It was a big joke in film school: want to get attention, just make weird Bunuel-esque short films. People snap to attention like someone shoved a blunt object up their . Anything I enjoy that's obviously mainstream bull I shove off as a "guilty pleasure." But why? Because it makes us look smarter if we like something "intellectual", and denounce something as pure trash that has no inherent linguid value. Will someone please pull me back from my tangent!

The Crying of Lot 49 isn't trash, but I don't really like it. How's that? I will now kindly step aside to avoid being hit by lightning from the critic gods. Thank you (I curtsey). Its language alone is uncompromisingly deliberate, the prose insane and rock-starrish, and, if you do want to read it, at least it's short. It's a book both the product of and waypoint for the times. 60s counterculture is everywhere in this book. Free spiritedness, the underground, lovin', drugs, bands, and stamps.

Oedipa Maas, Lot 49's heroine, finds herself co-executor of her ex-boyfriend's estate, and while carrying out her duty, stumbles upon a conspiracy between the current postal system and an underground postal system known as Tristero. Clues are everywhere (mainly in the form of a muted post horn), and Oedipa becomes obsessed with discovering the identity of the Tristero, only to find that mysteriously everything leads back to her ex-boyfriend's estate, and, most notably, his stamp collection. Meanwhile, her husband Mucho Maas becomes addicted to LSD and estranges himself from their relationship, her psychiatrist Dr. Hilarius goes insane with paranoid delusions that Israelis are out to get him, and a number of other aptly named characters make appearances to mix things up.

Pynchon has a penchant for language, and his novel is a joy in that respect. It's fun to read aloud, and the character names are absurdly apropos (Mike Fallopian, Genghis Cohen, Pierce Inverarity, et al.), but the story is lacking, disjointed, and in the end, disappointing. I get the feeling that Pynchon was trying to flex his intellectual muscles rather than exercise his storytelling skills. It felt like a mish-mash of ideas and titillating fantasies that never went anywhere. Of course, it was a lot of fun in 60s films (see Candy or The Magic Christian by Terry Southern - hilarious and brilliant) but not so much when you devote about several hours to a book.

The cover's really cool, the conspiracy story very intriguing and eerie, but in the end, it's all for naught. Although I didn't like this book, I'm still interested in his other novels (especially Mason & Dixon and Gravity's Rainbow, to see how they stack up. There's never enough time...

Writers Read! "Stein On Writing" by Sol Stein

2006-06-28T13:32:00.000-07:00

Writers are notorious time wasters. In moments of sheer crisis, we'll find anything to keep us from the unrelenting blank page. Immaculate kitchens, extravagant meals, spotless carpet vacuumed three times a day, these belong to the writer.

That means we'll look for any excuse, and if we're in between delicate words in a carefully crafted sentence and don't want to pick up a scrub brush, we read; books on writing are the biggest indulgence of this nasty habit.

Most books on writing read like memoirs. Said author did this, then did that, worked really hard and got published on a stroke of luck, and though this may be true, you learn nothing about the craft. Stephen King's On Writing is, I hate to say, one of my favorite Stephen King books, because you learn where he was in life when he was writing some of his biggest bestsellers (all of them?), but there's no lesson, only unpractical life stories. Other books are similar. Stein On Writing is different. It directly addresses what you should be thinking about when you are writing. It tackles the writer's job, not the writer's life.

Certain chapters are noticeably lacking in depth and examples. Stein talks about "liposuctioning flab", and would have done well to shave the chapters on "Particularity" and "Guts". Stein shamelessly plugs his own work towards the end of the book, but even so, he offers practical advice and relatable, usable techniques to get your story down on paper. Make your characters interesting by giving them a particularity, he says. His most important lesson is the best learned: as a writer you have to be conscious of your audience, you have to work at manipulating the pages to keep them interested. He suggests ways to keep the tension high and the suspense long, and stresses that creating tension and suspense are keys to a good story. If you want to tell stories but aren't sure how (and never took a creative writing class, like me) you'll find this book especially helpful.

There are few books on writing that offer solid practical advice into the hows and whys of the craft (The Lie That Tells a Truth, Writing In General and the Short Story In Particular), and Stein On Writing gladly joins them on my bookshelf for the next time I'm feel particularly constructive, can't seem to find the right word, and need some inspiration to find it.

The cover's all about writing. No pictures, just words. I like it!

I'm a Thingamabrarian!

2006-06-20T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dilley dalleying around, I stumbled across this website featured on Blogger's Blogs of Note:

Library Thing

It's self-described as a MySpace or Friendster for books, and it's very cool. You can catalog your library of books. Like MySpace, you're linked to other people based on your books, and it's not a meeting-place like MySpace, it's a social collaboration of sharing ideas and books. Among a thousand more fantastically hip time-wasters, you can find other libraries "eerily similar" to yours, get recommendations, see your library on the internet (with pictures, of course), and even organize your books. But I can't do it justice. Check it out. It's addictive.

My name's "fourteenerus", if you wanna compare.

Blahbetty Blah Blah "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" by Raymond Carver

2006-06-17T02:14:00.000-07:00

As long as the title is, the short stories in this collection are exactly that. Short. Not to say they don't have power. Less is more, right? I have put off reading Raymond Carver's stories for a long time. For some reason or another, he has eluded me, but I could hold out no more. It's a tiny book that will disturb you, hold you, grip you, and leave you, at times, utterly dumbfounded.

Each of the seventeen stories in this collection is about love in some way, and most of them, wait, no, all of them, have negative connotations or involve negative circumstances. The string that ties these stories together are the differing perspectives of love, of relationships in moments of crisis, from seventeen different angles. From the poor choices of one partner in The Calm to a man so fed up he's put all his furniture on the front lawn in Why Don't You Dance?. The title story promises a glimpse into relationships and shows us how shallow and crass we can be, we expect deep discussion about love and its meaning and get an inquisition into one character's loyalty to a former, abusive lover. And my favorite, So Much Water So Close To Home, involves a man whose wife is angry at him to the point of leaving him because he and some friends discovered a corpse at the beginning of a camping trip and decided not to notify the authorities until the trip was over, thinking the corpse wasn't going anywhere and there's no sense ending the trip early if it would all be the same in a few days.

Carver's strength lies in his ability to pose questions. He dangles the truth just out of our sight and never gives it to us, demanding that we decide the relevance. Most of his stories are vignettes of instances, each tableau raising its own questions, hanging there waiting to be answered; until everything turns symbolic and the stories become unique allegories, small metaphors like ink blots that depend on the reader's interpretation, different from person to person.

Carver's collection resonates because it's evocative. It succeeds because each story deftly illuminates a complex world where morals are fuzzy and emotions are unclear. Indeed, what we talk about when we talk about love isn't love most times, but something different entirely, something that hardly makes sense at all. And still we try. Still we try.

Don't judge this one by its cover - it's better than it looks.

Guise in Disguise "The End of the Road" by John Barth

2006-06-07T14:03:00.000-07:00

One can imagine Barth at a bar, late one night, chatting lucidly over a beer the relevance of any number of philosophical subjects and then later, accepting a dare. Create a character that has no character. One can imagine it simply because he did.

Jacob Horner is a man whose mood changes like the weather, at a whim, several times a day. Yet he is intelligent beyond belief and is able to grab hold of any side of a debatable topic. Horner, though, is a man with many problems, not the least of which is immobility, that leads him to the care of a doctor who will not disclose his name. The doctore prescribes Horner the only logical thing that will cure his immobility and characterless character: he must become a professor of prescriptive grammar at Wicomoco State College.

There he meets Joe Morgan and his awkward but sometimes graceful wife Rennie Morgan. He begins to take riding lessons with Mrs. Morgan which leads to an eventual slip-up affair one evening that they both regret. Rennie tells Joe, and rather than be angry, he wants to "wrap his hands around the thing," understand it fully, so he sends Rennie to commit the crime again. And eventually she gets pregnant - the father is up in the air. And so Barth touches upon a subject one can only imagine as taboo and controversial beyond belief in 1960: abortion. It is this subject, it's treatment, and the suspense and lively story thus created that save Barth's novel, and save it well.

Meanwhile, Horner has minor relations with a bitter woman named Peggy Rankin (he mentions that he's forced into these situations, otherwise he's asexual), and spars with Mr. Morgan over a variety of topics where Horner's mood and opinion shift from one hodge-podge to the next. Most of the time he says he has no opinion simply because he has too many opinions. Mostly, it is Horner's openness to the possiblity of everything that leads him to become such a chameleon, the most passive central character in fiction I've come across. This is accentuated with the stolid stance of a statue of Laccoon Horner stares at in times of change. The statue never changes, but, depending on the day and Horner's mood at the moment, Laccoon will bear a smile, or be concerned, or be sad. One never knows.

Barth flourishes with humor, and indeed every page is filled with subtle laughs and in-between-the-line jokes, but this book, the self-proclaimed sibling to "The Floating Opera" can't help but fall in the shadow of it's older, wiser, all-around better sister. It's a good read, and it progresses as the story reaches it's climax, but it's nowhere near as insightful nor daring as its counterpart. "The End of the Road" may be just that, but it reads like an exercise at times rather than a well written novel. I'd still recommend the journey, with the preface that the road is at times laborious, but the end of the road should make it worth the ride.

It's cover - hmmm, well, the same as "The Floating Opera." My edition shares these two titles, but I like the separate covers more. They're both interesting enough - I say read them!

A Tryst for Two "The Floating Opera" by John Barth

2006-05-15T13:05:00.000-07:00

John Barth says his novels come in pairs, and in keeping with his spirit, I'm rereading his first two novels as a pair. Out loud. It's very insightful listening to the words of someone you so admire, as I do John Barth, because you see the genius of his words and at the same time get that sinking feeling that no matter how hard you try you'll never be as good as that. Plus, several times, it was quite a challenge not to get tongue tied.

The Floating Opera, then, whose counterpart, according to its author, will be the soon featured The End of the Road (the two are sold as a pair under the same cover), is a raucous adventure through a day in the life of one very interesting anti-hero named Todd Andrews. That's right: one day. Barth is obviously attempting a literary tradition trying to pull a novel out of one day, the likes of which Joyce has done in momentous form with Ulysses as well as countless others. The upside is it's fantastic fun. Andrews is witty and clever, he's shifty and reasonable, he's the guy every guy wishes he could be without really ever wishing they could be him. Todd Andrews is a lawyer, he's been a saint and a cynic previously, and on the day in question, he's planning to kill himself.

So suicide in all its controversy (more so I'm sure in 1957) is highlighted gloriously, arguments made for its necessity and rebutted for its inherent paradox (if life has no value, and suicide is thus useful, then death has no value, and suicide is thus useless). Along the way we meet a cast of interesting characters, including the beautiful Jane Mack, wife of best friend Harrison Mack, who Todd has an affair with with both Harrison's knowledge and consent, their daughter Jeannine (who may or may not be Todd's), the Dorchester County Explorer's Club, and many, many more. It touches on everything from war to the law to relationships, and yet, like its narrator, commits to nothing. It's a full boat, The Floating Opera, but it will never sink.

The cover's great, and while it's about the author's beloved Maryland Tidewater area, which he writes magnificently about, it makes me really want to visit the south.

A Life of Abstraction "The Seven Mysteries of Life" by Guy Murchie

2006-05-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what it all means?

Guy Murchie did - for twenty some years (more, probably, because he's got more books). And the result of his fruitful ponderings is The Seven Mysteries of Life.

Life, Murchie begins, is only one part of existence, and to understand this, we must step back and take a look at the world from a birds-eye view. As an outsider, we see the intricate workings of the planet and are astounded by many things. Along the way Murchie finds and elaborates almost every conceivable mystery man has ever taken into consideration and turns them into a (most often) one-sided argument. Humans, according to Murchie, are interrelated with kingdoms, even species, evolutionarily and genetically (one and the same I suppose) so that we all are mere thousands of generations apart, given the species or kingdom. Plants behave maliciously as some predators, a flock of birds pictured from above resembles an island, and on and on until there are no delineations between anything and this world is a seed in germination of something larger. Examples abound to support Murchie's conclusions, but examples are not enough because examples do not hold up his argument alone.

The fallacy of the book is its age, and the fact that Murchie takes for granted some conclusions that have yet to be proven or even given credibility. The arguments may rest on faulty precis, but they lends to some interesting conclusions - even if they are falsely achieved. Its ability to ask questions, not answer them, is the strength of the book, and rightfully so, for it is called The Seven Mysteries of Life. So the bulk of his arguments ends up resting on a single card, paper thin, and all is needed is a semi-keen mind to blow it down. Still, the book does what its title suggests best: asks questions. Indeed, it makes connections between the cell of a human body analagous to the human body in relation to the earth, the earth to the galaxy, the galaxy to the universe. Even rocks have a place in the living, breathing, universe, and everything, from cars to plants to insects to humans is just a smaller part of a larger organism which behaves in much the same way (homeostasis-wise) as we humans do.

The best books get you interested in things. They get your mind going. They lead you to new interests and reinvigorate you to pursue old ones. This one has done it many times over for me, from a renewed interest in the microscopic world to finding out who my ancestors are. And even though the argument may be faulty, the conclusions lead to some interesting insights. Truth is a drop in an ocean of uncertainty, and most times imagining the possibilities those uncertainties have is enough to make one wish there never is a concrete answer to the seven, or any, mysteries of life.

This book weighs more than the soul does according to researchers quoted by Guy Murchie.

His Name is Dave Eggers "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggers

2006-04-24T09:12:00.001-07:00

I first heard about Dave Eggers two years ago. His book was big news at the time, but I neglected to read it. He re-entered my memory when I read an article about 826LA, a sister center of 826 Valencia that tutors children on writing fiction and creative non-fiction for free. He founded 826, is an editor of edgy, humorous, and entertaining McSweeney's, and is an amazing writer.

The book has been on my shelf for a year and a half. I picked it up a couple of weeks ago to give it a go, to see what all the hype was, to make my own judgment. Eggers is talented, that's for sure. He can make you laugh or cry or anything in between. His writing is fleeting and enthusiastic and dark and depressing all in one fell swoop. "Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" tells of his struggle to cope with the death of his parents while raising his brother Toph, only 15 years his junior. It's far from a perfect book, but what is? The story is inherently touching; any reader must exude admiration for the painstaking life Eggers has led, the amount of responsibility he took on and the courage to describe it honestly (sometimes humorously) for the world (us readers) to pick apart as I am doing right now. In McSweeney's fashion, Eggers has a preface with parts of the book to skip and a lengthy acknowledgements section outlining themes of the book, disclaimers on sex in the book (one section details how several nude scenes were omitted), and an outline of the amount of money it Eggers made from the book. And while funny, it's a bit trying. And even though he wrote that it's okay to just skip over the preface and acknowledgement section, I can't, because I have to read every word. So it got a bit self-indulgent, a tad annoying, but just when I had the book cocked back ready to throw across the room the story started and I was on this whirlwind rollercoaster of disbelief and failure and brotherhood and love. And it paid off.

The cover's pretty. I like the red curtain pulling back from the sun. Red. Like the world's a show or something.

Exciting litblog

2006-04-05T17:51:00.000-07:00

While in Oregon, browsing the internet, I've come across a very interesting litblog I've had some time to explore. It's led to a lot of great discoveries.

Good websites are few and far between, and I'm pretty happy to have found one. It isn't often.

Its name is Conversational Reading

Little Book of Wonders "The Elements of Style" by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White

2006-04-05T08:42:00.000-07:00

This little gem comes with a whopping punch. For anyone looking to speak better, write better, or plain communicate better, this book offers sound advice and helpful examples. Writers will like the chapters on Style and Composition, grammaphiles will enjoy the rest, and everyone will benefit. Strunk started it, and E.B. White (of Charlotte's Web fame) finished it, touched it up, made it a classic. The book is so well written; after I finished one chapter I fell asleep and had a dream of completing a sentence correctly or choosing the right word, just the right word. I'm not saying it was pretty, I'm saying it was effective. Writers of fiction and non-fiction narrative will gain greatly from this book, from rules and advice like use the active voice, be clear, and omit needless words, you'll take a lot from this tiny bible. It's exciting to know this book exists, even more exciting to own it and flip through it whenever I need a sound word of encouragement and advice.

I like the cover. It's elegant in a mainstream, tongue-in-cheek, way.

Make Love Not War "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway

2006-04-03T17:17:00.000-07:00

Hemingway, at a nubile 30, composed this taut, gripping tale about an ambulance driver who falls in love with a nurse in the midst of World War 1 in powerful prose. The thing to love most about Hemingway is the way he tells his stories. Unpretentious to the last, you can read his novels at face value or in between the lines (of course, between the lines is always a far richer experience, and Hemingway is a master of the unsaid), and this book is no different. The novel floats back and forth between a never-ending world war filled with desperation and loads of men who don't want to fight in it and a love story that blossoms in a hospital and blooms across the whole of Europe (including a beautifully rendered Switzerland). It is ultimately a beautiful story about love and loss and death and the inexplicable mystery of war and humans killing each other whether they're on the same side or not (at least sometimes). Hemingway is a master, of course, but his books, and this one is no exception, should be read as any other book. They all have their faults, minimal faults, but faults nevertheless. The important thing is that those faults don't govern the story. Here, of course, they do not, and even though the dialogue is often stiff and forced, the romaticism rings true, the war is depressing, and the story itself is uplifting, tragic, human, and evocative beyond many even half-efforts. It's a book that almost demands a second reading. Knowing the end, everything before that takes on more weight, is given more gusto, and rings with a fair necessity that this, friends, is life.

There are several covers, as there are several editions. And, given this particular cover, I'm glad I didn't judge the book solely by the cover. It, sadly, blows.

The story behind the novel, and others, can be found here.

The Power of Oops "The Accidental" by Ali Smith

2006-03-17T10:55:00.000-08:00

I heard of Ali Smith's new novel, The Accidental, from a newspaper article about the finalists for the Man Booker prize that labeled the book as "experimental". The last experimental novel I read was House of Leaves, and I loved that, so, no cover needed, I checked it out. The story is simple, and a bit misleading. A woman named Amber enters a house without explanation and touches the lives of the four family members occupying it (as a summer getaway) in completely distinct and absolute ways. Eve thinks she's a student her husband is sleeping with and Michael, her husband, thinks she's a friend of Eve's. She wriggles her way into the family, and, due to increasingly blunt honesty, pushes herself out. Yet in the process she completely changes each and every one of the characters.

Smith is a complete wordsmith and her novel isn't so much circular as it is enclosed. The structure is delicate and precise, which agrees with me immensely because I like precise art, art that I can decipher. There are three parts to the novel: the beginning, the middle, and the end. Each has four chapters. The first three begin and end in the middle of a sentence, seemingly disjointed but with purpose, the fourth begins in the middle of a sentence and ends with a period. And a final chapter offers brief, if tangential, perspective. Starting and ending the chapters in the middle of a sentence blends the stories together, makes them seamless, and provides a great metaphor for the overlapping nature of truth as it appears to different people in the same situation. The only word I can think to describe the novel fully is vertiginous. The novel folds in on itself constantly but also is delicately structured so that the beginning and end revolve around neat little poems in the middle.

Satisfyingly, the novel examines the nature of truth, and, with four chapters in each section offering differing perspectives of the days of each of the characters, ultimately asks more questions than it answers. But that's the point, that's the beauty of the novel. At one point, the son, Magnus, who is completely enamored with Amber (he thinks she is an angel sent to save him, and later a teacher, of sorts), and fancies himself as "Hologram Boy" and "Electrostatic Man", alter-ego's he's created in the wake of his teen angst, gets frustrated when Amber questions his assertion that a man named Leibniz invented the equals sign. His proof is that he read it in a textbook or a teacher told him and so it must be true. She asks if anyone checks the teachers, asks if it can possibly be untrue, and makes Magnus question his own knowledge. Later Magnus finds that it wasn't Leibniz that invented the equals sign, it was a man named Robert Recorde.

And so is illustrated the unifying theme of the book: truth. A truth that changes, that has many right answers, that has many different perspectives. A truth that in Ali Smith's book asks many more questions than it answers. truth I can swallow.

The cover's intriguing, and even better after reading the novel.

Columbus, You're Sorta Wrong The World Is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman

2006-03-17T10:51:00.000-08:00

Few discoveries lately have had more weight than Thomas Friedman's shocking discovery blared out as the title of his book. THE WORLD IS FLAT! Both a fantastic guide to the past, and a guidepost for the future, The World Is Flat is a book that should be required reading for anyone hoping for success in the future. The world isn't actually flat, but what Friedman lays out is an argument for the flattening power of globalization. More jobs are outsourced now than ever before, but, contrary to popular opinion, this is better for everyone. Americans and other countries. Most of the jobs outsourced are basic jobs, so the challenge to Americans, to keep jobs, is to find a specialization, to innovate and expand their skill sets. Highlighted are the damaging effects of poor education, minimal stress on the importance of math and science to our youth, and the poor job of the government (and Bush rhetoric) that turned 9/11 into a date of fear rather than one of hope and moving forward. Globalization can be a good thing for everyone. The technology at our fingertips makes everything so much easier, and it's only going to get better, with so many minds from an eclectic mix of places collaborating for the greater good. It's certainly an exciting time to be alive and in the middle of the technological age (especially if you're a techno-gadget gotta have every little thing from Best Buy guy, or gal), but the responsibility lies with us to stay on top of the market, to stress and fund a better education for our youth, or we may find America lapping up the seconds of more ambitious countries like China and India.

The sailboat falling off the side of the world, on the cover, is quite funny, and even if you don't read the book, you can still laugh at the cover.

He says he will never dieBlood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy

2006-03-02T13:52:00.000-08:00

This is the first book I've read by Cormac McCarthy, not the last. One of my favorite novels of the past few years. Dense language, thick plot, all action, minimal dialogue. The novel is a multi-layered, nuanced study of both the savagery of the Wild West and human nature itself. The novel is very mythical, not since The Natural have I read anything so engrossed with sheer power. It centers around "the kid" - a never named, tough runaway who listens to no one but himself. The kid enters into a decades long struggle with life and death and everything in between, mediated and finally mitigated by Judge Holden, one of the most well wrought characters in modern literature. I liked this book so much I started it over as soon as I finished. Every single word in this book is necessary, the violence is so thick, the mood so perfect, the massacres so real, you can practically wring the blood out of it.

And, the cover's cool.

See the cat? See the cradle?Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

2006-03-01T17:10:00.000-08:00

A hilarious romp. At once cataclysmic, refreshing, sexy, and scathing, this dynamic novel about the end of the world and the search for meaning and ice-nine features a new religion created by a guy that just wanted to see if he could create a new religion (Bokonon and the "Books of Bokonon".) Hero Jonah, as he is named only once, a great reference to "Moby Dick" (thanks Aubrey), seeks out the children of Dr. Felix Hoenniker, creator of the atomic bomb, in search for the elusive ice-nine and material for a book, ends up on the island of San Lorenzo, of which he becomes the President, briefly, falls in love and touches feet with Mona Aamons Monzano, and survives the end of the world. Witty and irreverent, Cat's Cradle is truly for the ages. Published in 1963, relevant today.

Kurt Vonnegut is the modern day Mark Twain.
Oh, and the cover's nice. I like the contrasting lines.