Atlas of Remote Islands: fifty islands I have never set foot on and never will

by Judith Schalansky

Holy-moly this book is awesome! I love to geek out over maps, but I'm often frustrated by the clutteredness of a lot of modern atlases, with so many roads especially but also too many small towns and other unimportant things. I probably shouldn't post this on the internet and let someone steal the idea, but I'd love to make an atlas that only shows the interesting stuff, just what's relevant to history or politics, exceptional geographical features, etc. — which is really just a way to introduce the description of this Atlas of Remote Islands as just nearly the exact oppposite of that idea, in some ways, and precisely the same in others, but correspondingly and contrastingly equally awesome in its own way(s). Each map provides a wealth of detail, but not every detail, and the details it does provide are somewhat estoric or anecdotal, and always delightfully interesting. You can tell the author really treasures maps and put a lot of that love into this book. If you dig maps, you need to read this book, and maybe even own it. The book itself as an object is beautifully designed, a true pleasure to hold and to read. It's on a very short list of books I'm actually interested in buying and keeping forever.


 

Zine Post Six

Dixon Ticonderoga, by Stevan Allred
Sort of a paean to pencils, with texts by several authors and some illustrations. The analog realness and old-school-ness of zine and of pencils complement one another in this digital, virtual age.

Moira: a sneak preview, by Chelsea Baker
Very thorough science comic about Down Syndrome, inspired by the author's sister. The illustrations and text work together very well, and I particularly was struck by the sperm "factory" drawing.

Dangerous Aromas, Chapter 1, Beans and Ambition, by the Soft Sciences
Globe-trotting intrigue from the dank jungle to the highest echelons of competitive coffee roasting. Kind of odd, sometimes awkward dialogue, but also some funny bits.

McGriddle Defense, edited by Ryan Gratzer
"Selected short works about the breakfast sandwich" and a must-read for anyone who's succumbed to the temptation of droplets of syrup embedded in fat little pancakes that embrace egg and sausage like delectable parentheses. Includes a choose-your-own-adventure story.

Somnambulist #15, Martha Grover
Grover's long-running series has covered a lot of ground and includes many genres. This edition is a collection of "minutes" from family meetings she attended after moving back home for a while as an adult. Laugh out loud hilarious, but lots of pathos too.

Ride the Lightning, by John Isaacson
Comics interpretation of Metallica lyrics. I'm not a fan of heavy metal (though I do like the long-haired dudes), so it didn't do much for me, and I'm not totally comfortable judging.

Alien Boy: a zine about the life of James Chasse, by Erin Yanke & Icky A.
In one of my other postings of zine reviews I said I was trying to learn when to shut up, so I'm going to say only that this tribute to Chasse comes with a CD.

Beard Month 2010, by Greg Hinkle
Nominated for an award at Stumptown Comics Fest, but it seemed kind of unfocused to me. I had a beard when I read this one, but I'm kind of over beards now.

Colophons, or a note on the type, by Vanessa Gelvin
I can totally dork-out over typefaces (and explain the difference between a typeface and a font), and I've always thought that if I ever get published I'll insist my book include "a note on the type," so I loved this zine a lot.

Trigger No. 1, by Mike Bertino, edited by Dave Nuss
Pleasantly bizarre and trashy comics about bars, teachers that accidently pick up hookers, unicorns, and buttheads. And then a dreamlike one about chronic pain and confronting an abusive past.

A History of Humans Breathing Underwater: an educational zine, by Owen Curtsinger
Very informative, but I wish it were longer. It's small, with drawings and text. The title is quite clear, and you'll get what it promises.

You Are Here, [anthology]
If I'm remembering the right zine, this is a collection of maps and map-related musings by a variety of contributors in a variety of formats: a map of smells and garbage in San Francisco, parallels between Oakland and Paris, different moons in NoLa and Minnesota.

Biophile #2, The scientific method
Biophile #3, Eels, the magic and the mystery
A Pocket Guide to Evolution: a Biophile special, [author unknown]
Teeny but lovely, all three are great examples of science zines. Possible best quote ever in the history of the world: "We can put a man on the moon, but we can't force eels to make babies."

The Malaise Trap, by Jack Bracken and Reid Psaltis
An amazing and beautiful comic about collecting and compulsion, purging and emptiness, and bugs. If it's not a true story, it should be.

She's So Unusual #1, Cyndi Lauper, [author unknown]
A tribute to our favorite she-bopper, this zine includes hair dyeing tips, a recipe for "True Colors" cupcakes, and other Lauper-esque projects. Volume 2 is about Joan Crawford and has instructions for crocheted wire hanger covers.

The Life and Death of the X-Ray Cafe (Oregon History Comics vol. 2), by Sarah Mirk I moved to Portland long enough ago to have seen the X-Ray Cafe, but I never went there. Mirk's series of comics about lesser-known aspects of Oregon history is a great idea and a big win.

Astronomiae Instauratae Grylli, by J. Horn
Sound science and effective story-telling in a mini-comic about a photon traversing the universe and very, very creative integration of words in and around the drawings, although occasionally hard to read as a result.

The Lou Reeder, by Corina Fastwolf
You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory, by Matt Monochrome
Musical memories, drawings, lists, even a crossword puzzle by a dynamic duo of extreme zine fame. (For the record, I did not do the puzzle and do not condone writing in library material; if you want to do the puzzle, make a photocopy or buy your own.)

Brains vol. 1, by Jesse Harrington
Three short stories about punks, skaters, skater-punks and the zombies they battle, and sometimes become. Zombies are the new pirates (as of a couple years ago), so dive in before something else becomes the new zombies.

Hyena in Petticoats: a Mary Wollstonecraft zine, by Alexis Wolf
An engaging biography of author, early feminista and liberated woman Mary Wollstonecraft, and her family, combined with a personal memoir of the zine author's immersion in all things related, including a pilgrimage to London.


 

Married to the Sea

 by Drew

Just stumbled across this little thing, a collection of old-timey illustrations with captions added to make them funny to a modern-day reader. As you'd expect, some are super-duper funny and others are duds, with most in between. Definitely worth flipping through if you're looking for some chuckles.


 

Yakuza in Love, vol. 1

 by Shiuko Kano

My favorite yaoi author hits it out of the park again! (Okay, well, maybe not the best this author has to offer, but still better than almost any other yaoi author I've read.) You can guess the general drift of the story from the title. Some characters are gay-gay, others are ambiguous, and the relationships haven't quite coalesced by the end of volume 1, but I sure am ready for the next book. (Sex scenes are medium-explicit, btw.)


 

Far Arden

by Kevin Cannon

Checked this out based on a review. It's a small, square, fat graphic novel that almost looks like a board book for babies, but in fact it's a relatively lengthy and sophisticated comics adventure that would probably be PG-13 if it were a movie. The title refers to a mythical (or is it real?) lost island in the Arctic; due to a quirk in the ocean and wind currents, it has a tropical micro-climate, so everyone's hunting for it. Abandoned children, evil geniuses, spies, broken hearts and long-held resentments are just part of the dramatic tension — some people are willing to kill to solve this mystery, and some people will die trying to uncover this secret.


 

Makeshift Metropolis: ideas about cities

 by Witold Rybczynski

I've always thought the best part of Sim City is laying out the streets and water lines, deciding where to put the airport and the city hall. Did you know you can sort of cheat and make the game let you do all the building and landscaping you want without having to pay and without turning on the clock? I could do that for days and days.... I also have a thing for architecture and design in general, so I very much enjoyed this book about city planning. It's amazing how much historical overview and analysis, theory and practice, speculation and suggesting the author crams into a rather short book. Engaging and easy to understand, informative but not pedantic, this book is a real pleasure to read.

The author lives and teaches in Philadelphia, so it was additionally gratifying for me to read the many references to my home city's history, architecture and design (even the bad examples).


 

Someday this Pain Will Be Useful to You

by Peter Cameron

Once upon a time I wrote a short story. It started from an idea that didn't include an ending, and I stalled out after a few weeks of working on it. Seven years later, I had a sudden insight about how to end the story, and I finally wrote the ending. Several people to whom I showed it said I should keep going, that they wanted to know what happens to the character next. I didn't think I could, and I never have — in part because it took me so long to find the ending, but also because the story is about emotional paralysis, so the tension and impetus is lost (and the story ends) when the character finally breaks his paralysis (or so I intended).

Point is, I never understood until now how frustrating it can be to read a book whose protagonist is emotionally paralyzed. I can't recall reading any other gay teen novels in which the character isn't either traumatized by being gay and coming out or so totally okay and confident that other people can't help but accept him. This book's anti(?)-hero is disengaged and distant from everyone, alienated even from himself. Sort of reminds me of me at that age.

Although it was frustrating in many ways, I ultimately liked this book. It's easy to see, however, the reasons it won't appeal to many readers. Being a young adult book, it's pretty short, so there's that at least.

Free for All: oddballs, geeks, and gangstas in the public library

by Don Borchert

Having worked in a public library for 10 years, I entertained but not surprised by the shenanigans related by the author, himself a longtime library employee. I was more amazed by how different to mine were his library's circulation policies. Either way, it's a pleasant romp and a quick read, and you don't need to be a public employee to enjoy it.

Imperial Bedrooms

by Bret Easton Ellis

This author is not for everyone, but he's one of my favorites. I was already a bit obsessed with the movie of Less than Zero when I read the book — which I loved so much I read it twice in one weekend. I've also read American Psycho (NOW alleged misogyny, but, hello, he's a psycho and kills dudes and dogs too), The Rules of Attraction (also a great movie, that totally changed my mind about James Van der Beek), and Lunar Park: all amazing. He's a writer who would be a role model for me if I ever got serious about writing.

This book tells the further misadventures of characters from Less than Zero, and it similarly catalogs the debauchery and neuroses of individuals (a reflection of their morally bankrupt society) and, by refraining from explicit commentary, mounts a sly indictment of our wealth- and image-obsessed culture. I find this author's work much deeper and more litererary than most casual readers would, and I have a bachelor's in English lit (just sayin'). I like how he's built a universe of reusable characters, but the characters aren't really exactly the same when he reuses them, and he also plays with the imaginary barrier between writer and character, writer and reader.

Having said all that, I wouldn't recommend this book to someone who isn't familiar with this author's work. For those who are, it's a must-read.

Mirroring people: the new science of how we connect with others

by Marco Iacoboni

This book is very science-y but not too technical. Also, don't read this if non-lethal neurological animal experimentation will upset you.

It's about the discovery and study of "mirror neurons," which discovery has implications for the study of communication via facial expression; autism spectrum disorders; learning and cognition; physical coordination and proprioception; to name a few. Basically, in addition to the neurons that fire when you actually do something (move your hand, for example) you also have a set of mirror neurons that go off when you think about moving your hand or see someone else moving their hand. In a sense, these neurons allow you to practice mentally various movements. In terms of empathy, they are a step beyond simply imagining another person's feelings because your brain is actually physically pretending to have the same emotions by mentally mimicking the other person's facial expressions and body language.

More to it, of course, but that's kind of the nutshell version. Very interesting and not too long, so no need to be intimidated by the science-ness.

Love Recipe #1

by Kirico Higashizato

I can't remember now if I've read the second one, so I just reserved it. As I recall, this series is cute and funny and a little bit sexy. One character is a new employee at a publishing company who gets stuck managing a male yaoi artist who is notorious for missing deadlines. The dashing and slightly older artist playfully attempts to extort sexual favors in return for finishing his work on time. Let the shenanigans commence!

Why the Dreyfus Affair Matters

by Louis Begley

Another book I didn't read in its entirety. I wanted to know more about the Dreyfus Affair (in which anti-Semitic prejudice led to a Jewish officer in the French military being convicted of treason in a sham trial and wrongfully imprisoned for many years), but I didn't realize the "why it matters" angle was going to relate the historical event to contemporary legal issues in the so-called war on terror. So the parts I read, about the incident itself, are actually more detailed than I needed, and the book lacks the larger historical perspective I wanted.

50 paintings you should know

by Kristina Lowis and Tamsin Pickeral

I grabbed this book because the host of my trivia night knows a lot of art history, so it sometimes comes up in the questions. I didn't read the whole thing, mostly scanned for names (of painters and of paintings) and tried to get a sense of the chronology. I was surprised not to find some paintings I'd expected, but I suppose it's pretty damn difficult paring the list down to 50, and not every famous painting could be included. Plus, some famous art is rather crap, and I imagine the authors included/exclued some less famous works that happen to be better exemplars of a style or movement or whatever. Final verdict: interesting but kind of dull for me.

The Sociopath Next Door: the ruthless versus the rest of us

by Martha Stout

I heard a bit of this book when a friend was playing it in her car. Intrigued, I ultimately decided to read the whole thing, in part because I'm convinced my brother is among the one in 25 people who have no conscience at all. I can't profess to know anything about the author's credentials and/or status in the scientific community, but she says she specializes in helping people recover from traumas and has counseled many people who have been damaged by their relationships with sociopaths. This book is an eye-opener, but I recommend taking it with a grain of salt. Psychiatry is a tricky business, and explaining it to a lay-person is particularly dicey, prone to over-simplification, exaggeration and over-generalization. A pretty quick read, totally worth if if you have mentally ill or just plain mean person in your life — which you almost certainly do if these statistics are accurate.

Sex for America: politically inspired erotica
edited by Stephen Elliott

The title doesn't leave much for me to explain. With lots of authors contributing, one is tempted to say there's something for every reader. Mostly hetero and mostly not super-raunchy, and on the whole I found it kind of boring. The story by Jarhead author Anthony Swofford, though, is exciting and filthy and terrifying — at least, I'm pretty sure it's the story by him.

White Brand

by Youka Nitta

Another yaoi manga author whose work I've previously reviewed. One thumbs up and one thumbs down, as I recall. This one is a collection of shorter stories, none great but none exactly bad either. Just kinda meh. I'd've like it more if the sexy bits were sexier.

How to Become a Scandal: adventures in bad behavior

by Laura Kipnis

In college, I was never sure exactly what communications majors were studying. Then again, as someone who considered getting a graduate degree in semiotics, I'm no stranger to the vague, subjective and useless. Well, maybe not useless, but not practical. Cultural critique and analysis has its uses, but one can easily argue it's a luxury few can afford — a sort of First World problem or white male neurosis, if you will. In other words, right up my alley.

Anyway, I didn't realize until I was starting this book that I've also read another book by Kipnis, Against Love: A Polemic, which I found to be very incisive and thought-provoking, in particular when she questions whose interest is really served by monogamy and the so-called nuclear family. With queers fighting for legal recognition of their families and straights divorcing in droves, one does wonder, or should.

Although not entirely without humor, that book is more serious than this newer one. In drolly reviewing four major meltdowns by public figures (or at least people who became public figures due to their extraordinary flame outs), the author explores related issues plaguing modern American life: media saturation, fame obsession, compulsive confession and a total absence of self-shaming. Funny and quick, I recommend it.

Tough Love Baby

by Shiuko Kano

Shiuko Kano has made some of my most favorite yaoi mangas, including Play Boy Blues, I'm Not Your Steppin' Stone, and Maybe I'm Your Steppin' Stone. (Read my reviews of those here.) This PG-13 book definitely meets the author's high standard of stories with emotional sublety and narrative complexity. I only wish it were longer, because I enjoyed it that much. Highly recommended if you're into the genre.

Skippy Dies

by Paul Murray

The jacket copy says something really pompous about this guy being the literary voice of his generation (he was born in 1975), but I remembered that I read a long time ago his other book, An Evening of Long Goodbyes, which I thoroughly enjoyed but wouldn't credit with much literary value. Which begs the question of how a guy with only two books, one of which is fluff, can be given such an exalted position? Maybe it's tongue in cheek, which would be in keeping with his wry sense of humor.

The book clocks in at 600 pages or so, but it's not as tall as the standard hardcover, and it also reads quickly. Despite it's smooth breeziness, however, the story does entail interesting moral dilemmas and insights about human nature, and manages to be sophisticatedly ambiguous enough to keep the reader thinking and guessing. And it's got some damn funny bits too.

So what's the book about? Teenagers in love and lust, adults in love and lust, drugs good bad and questionable, commitment and infatuation, self-knowledge and the possibility of ever really "growing up", time travel in the multiverse, video games and hallucinations, set in an Irish boarding school with priests. It has two protagonists, I guess, one a student and one a teacher not quite at middle-age. It's kind of sad in the end, with that hollow feeling that comes with the realization that there are no easy answers.

Sex at Dawn: the prehistoric origins of modern sexuality

by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha

This is a very interesting and highly readable book with important things to say. It is not, however, an important book. I was disappointed, even when entertained, by the authors' flippancy. I'm sure the joshing tone was meant to make science more palatable to the masses, and it probably succeeds in that respect, but it has the unfortunate side-effect of providing fodder to their critics — those in the same field, as well as those who mistrust the whole enterprise of evolutionary psychology.

I don't want to get bogged down in that debate, so with as little judgement as I can manage, I'll tell you: this book uses comparative biology, cultural anthropology and other disciplines to speculate about the socio-sexual behavior of primitive (but, evolutionarily speaking, relatively recent) nomadic hunter-gatherer humans, and then shows how the behaviors for which we are evolutionarily suited are at odds with contemporary social and sexual mores and traditions. Chief among their conclusions, perhaps, is that humans are not evolved for monogamy, which might have some bearing on the number of marriages that end in divorce.

I'll leave it at that. If you want to know how and why they came to that conclusion, read the book.

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk

by David Sedaris

Um, it's by David Sedaris. Pretty different from his other stuff actually, but you're going to read it or not based on it being by him, so what's the point in me explaining that these are not stories about Sedaris and his life but Aesopian fables twisted by his characteristic sense of humor? Easily read in one sitting, or perhaps several sittings in a certain room on a certain piece of porcelain "furniture."

The Four Stages of Cruelty

by Keith Hollihan

Reading this book did exactly what I'd hoped: it reminded me of watching the TV series Oz. Could have used some hot gay sex, though. A solid stay-up-late thriller set in a penitentiary, this story follows the intertwined fates of a lonely middle-aged female guard and a 19-year-old guy convicted of accidentally(?) killing his ex-girlfriend. The creepy old prison itself and many of the characters have hidden secrets and simmering tensions. The ending is kind of odd, in that it doesn't fully answer one of the central mysteries, but, to my surprise, I actually liked that it didn't.

I Love You Phillip Morris: a true story of life, love, and prison breaks

by Steve McVicker

I wanted to read this before seeing the movie, and now I think the movie might not be playing anywhere. It's a really breezy read with plenty of funny bits, despite being about a man whose life, all things considered, is pretty tragic. This true story (written up by a journalist, based on interviews and research) is also a refreshingly unusual portrayal of a gay dude: on the one hand, the gayness is actually just incidental to the story; on the other hand, here's a gay guy who commits all sorts of crimes and repeatedly breaks out of prison, all for love.

Back to the movie for a sec, it's also heartening to see the great responses from Ewan McGregor and Jim Carrey when immature idiots like Leno and Letterman ask them if it was "weird" playing gay characters and/or kissing each other. I'm sure you can find clips on the YouTubes.

Super Sad True Love Story

by Gary Shteyngart

I've almost read a book by this author in the past, but never quite got around to it. So when this one came out to rave reviews, I decided I would read it even though I had to be on the waiting list. I pretty much hated it. Being stubborn, though, I forced myself to read the whole damn thing, looking and hoping that something would happen to make the rave reviews make sense. Alas and alack, no such luck. It's near-future semi-dystopia with an anti-hero, so there's obvious commentary on contemporary culture — but so what? All the characters are just kind of gross, either physically or psychically or both, which I guess is a bit of a trend these days. But I don't have to like it. So there.

Fake, vol. 1

by Sanami Matoh

I was very disappointed and will not continue with this not-quite-yaoi series. The two cop characters are Japanese (and maybe a little too old to qualify for yaoi), but I guess they're in New York or something, because a lot of the other characters seem caucasian, and for some reason all the gangsters have Jewish names (which I found a bit offensive). One of the cops is gay, and the other isn't — or he might be, but I was never convinced to care about the outcome. There also are some implausible events (the two of them all of a sudden sleeping in the same bed with an orphaned 14-year-old they sort of look after) and other failures of story-telling. Lastly, the young character is openly homophobic, so poo on him.

I Was Told There'd Be Cake                     
      and
How Did You Get This Number

by Sloane Crosley

I never got around to writing up Cake, and now I've read the author's second book, which is in development to become a show on HBO. She worked in publishing before being published herself, so I'm sure she knew a thing or two to grease the skids, but stuff is pretty good. I'm not saying that her collections of humorous essays wouldn't have been published (or made into television shows) if she weren't an industry insider, just that they're not really the caliber of David Sedaris or Sara Barron. Or me, for that matter; I'm quite sure I could do better, even though I probably never will.

But, hey, if you like the short funny personal essay genre, go for it. You won't be truly dazzled, but you won't regret it.

Some Things That Meant the World to Me

by Joshua Mohr

Really bizarre book that I didn't particularly like, but I did finish it. Not terrible, I just never quite connected with the character. It's pretty "edgy" and fantastical, about the probable mental illness — or at the very least PTSD — of a young man who grew up with a distant mother and abusive step-father and is struggling to live on his own in San Francisco after being released from an institution in Arizona. Maybe you'd like it if you like Chuck Palahniuk, and/or maybe a good suggestion who likes A Child Called "It" and those sort of books.

As a side note, it was weird (oddly pleasing? disconcerting?) reading a book that mentions places in the Mission neighborhood very near where a friend of mine lives, places I've been.

Rampaging Fuckers of Everything on the Crazy Shitting Planet of the Vomit Atmosphere

by Mykle Hansen

Bizarre and gross dystopian short stories with occasional flashes of satirical brilliance but mostly gratuitous and unenlightening. Not much else to say, except that I'd recommend this book to anyone who enjoyed reading anything by Carlton Mellick, such as The Haunted Vagina.

Logicomix: an epic search for truth

by Apostolos Doxiadis and Christos H. Papadimitriou
with Alecos Papadatos (art) and Annie Di Donna (color)

Abso-frickin'-lutely amazing! But I'm afraid if I tell you what it's about, you probably will think it sounds really boring...

This graphic novel tells the life story of philosopher and logician Bertrand Russell, who sought a solid logical foundation for mathematics and instead discovered a paradox that demonstrates the impossibility of describing, or even locating, such a bedrock from within the system of math, set theory and formal logic. Amazing, right? I mean, have you ever asked yourself whether "the set of all sets that don't contain themselves" contains itself? Of course it doesn't, because if it did, then it wouldn't, in which case it would, because it couldn't... Perhaps there's a reason so many logicians go insane (or why the insane are attracted to the study of formal logic).

Just like Russell's paradox, this book is self-referential, with segments on how the authors and illustrators worked on constructing the story, discussion of the meaning of the story and of story-telling itself, and even an allegory of sorts relating to the Greek tragedy The Eumenides, the last play in the Oresteia trilogy by Aeschylus.

Sprout

by Dale Peck

I like the first half of this book, when the green-haired small-town gay boy is secretly shtupping the hot corn-fed (half-Latino) jock. But I guess that's been done before, notably in Geography Club by Brent Hartinger.

The second half of the book went all weird and creepy with the introduction of a new character. That's also been done before, but this one sort of goes double creepy in an unappealing and unsettling way. The ending is all over the place: hopeful, hollow, heartbreaking. Made me give the book an overall negative rating.

Another complaint I have is that it fails to make use of the opportunity to deliver a safe-sex message. In fact, the only time condoms are mentioned, two teen characters are mocking adults' use of them. A quarter of a million Americans are HIV-positive and don't know it, and it isn't necessarily safer in the rural Midwest, where the story is set. So get tested, fools, and remember, Safe Sex Is Hot Sex!

Yellow Dirt: an American story of a poisoned land and a people betrayed

by Judy Pasternak

Interesting, yes. Depressing, oh hell yes. Good book, though, and quite readable.

The author, an L.A. Times reporter, in this book expands her original series of articles investigating the still-lingering tragic effects of uranium mining on the Navajo reservation in the southwest United States. So, yeah, Native Americans... no big surprise they've been effed over, and effed over hard by our government, absolutely derelict in its duty (by treaty) to protect the welfare and interests of the Navajo. First, during the Manhattan Project, the government pretty much did the effing themselves, all but stealing ("renting") the mineral rights and then employing Navajo as miners with no protective equipment, and doing nothing to contain the spread of contaminated soil, dust and water. Then, of course (right?), the government skipped town and turned a blind eye for years to the general injustice and pollution in the first place and to the continuing misbehavior of the private companies that began competing for the precious resource with no thought to the people living on top of it (and in some very tragic cases, living in houses made of it).

Worst part? How recently this bullshit was hapenning (into the '80s for sure) and how little has really been done to redress the harm, even though more positive action has been taken in the last decade than in the previous 40 years of Kafka-esque bungling, evasion and disavowal/shirking of responsibility.

The Professor and the Madman: a tale of murder, insanity and the making of the Oxford English Dictionary

by Simon Winchester

Sounds like a really nerdy book, and I have admitted to being somewhat nerdy, but this book is surprisingly exciting. I really tore through it and had trouble putting it down when I needed to. Seriously, not dry or boring at all. The subtitle hints at the sort of intrigue that gives the book a bit of thriller-iness, but it's also quite interesting to read about the who's and how's and the sheer humungousness of the creation of the OED. And I really swear it's not boring! It's like a really good episode of Nova or History Detectives, with a dash of Poirot. Probably among the Top 10 literary nonfiction books I've ever read, I recommend it highly.

The Halfway House

by Guillermo Rosales

A posthumously published novella about mental illness written by a mentally ill Cuban exile who committed suicide in middle-age after destroying most of his unpublished work. I read it in a couple of hours, not bad but not great, I might not have read the whole thing if it had been longer.

I seem to have a love-it-or-leave-it thing with Latin American literature. I really like what I've read by García Márquez and I've enjoyed a few things by Carlos Fuentes. On the nonfiction/memoir side, there's the fantastic Before Night Falls by Reinaldo Arenas (also Cuban), which was so good I bought a copy for a friend. (The movie is quite good, too.) But I've had a couple of duds recently. ¡Qué lástima!

Cold Sleep

by Narise Konohara

Is amnesia ever a solid premise? Maybe for a comedy, but otherwise I kinda think it fails more often than it succeeds.

While not exactly a success, this book is certainly much better than Dear Myself, another amneisa-themed yaoi. Also, it's more of an illustrated novel than a manga. The writing is pretty decent, but the story is not as compelling as Don't Worry Mama, a book by the same author that I absolutely adored. Kind of a lukewarm recommendation, but it is what it is. It's been a while since I read it, but I recall that it didn't have a decisive ending, so maybe it's part of a series; I'd certainly consider reading a sequel.

Secret Historian: the life and times of Samuel Steward, professor, tattoo artist, and sexual renegade 

by Justin Spring

I don't remember how I stumbled across Bad Boys and Tough Tattoos: A Social History of the Tattoo with Gangs, Sailors, and Street-corner Punks, 1950-1965 by Samuel M. Steward, but I do remember the picture on the cover:





Um, how could I not read that?

Anyway, I think I heard the author of this exhaustive biography on Fresh Air and got interested in reading more about the unusual life of the real Professor Sparrow (his nom de needle during his tattooing years). I was pulled in right away and became excited to read about the fun, sexy times of a guy who kept a Stud File (including, in some cases, forensic "samples") with deets on every one of the many hundreds of dudes he hooked up with. Of course, he was also a writer of poetry, novels and erotica; a friend of Thornton Wilder and Gertrude Stein; a collaborator and chum of the infamous Kinsey; an artist; a compulsive collector and record-keeper; and a capable self-analyst.

The book is quite long for a bio of a non-famous person, and does drag just a bit in some places, but it really is quite engaging throughout. Perhaps not very easy to recommend to someone you don't know fairly well, but it is written so as not to be titillating and it is a fascinating glimpse into the largely undocumented demimonde of pre-Stonewall gay life.

The Scorch Trials

by James Dashner

Disappointing!

A few tantalizing hints about WICKED and the real purpose of the trials, but really just more of the same and nothing truly new. It's making me mentally reëvaluate The Maze Runner. Rather like those stupid teenage vampire books I read, the poor quality of the writing becomes all to apparent once you get past the novelty and excitement of the first book. A really good idea for a story is maybe enough to carry a bush-league author through one book, but especially in young adult there are nearly always plans for a trilogy (at least). A rather dreary reflection of the state of the publishing industry? Or am I the wretched one, becuase I'm going to read the third book, however much it pains me?

Through the Language Glass: why the world looks different in other languages

by Guy Deutscher

I call shenanigans! After detailing the Sapir-Whorf debacle and cautioning against unfounded assumptions generally, and after the caveat that there is much we do not know about brain function and physiology, this linguist goes and says:

"[I]t becomes clear that when the brain has to decide whether two colors look the same or not, the circuits responsible for visual perception ask the language circuits for help in making decision, even if no speaking is involved. So for the first time, there is now direct neurophysiologic evidence that areas of the brain that are specifically responsible for name finding are involved with the processing of purely visual color information."

Now, I'm no neurophysiologist, but I know a thing or two. Even overlooking the weak "it becomes clear" excuse for an explanation, I immediately thought of at least one good reason that language areas of the brain would fire while a person is analyzing visual input about colors, and it has nothing at all to do with the visual circuits "asking for help" from the language circuits!

Anyway, now I've got that off my chest.... I really liked the first third of this book, in which the author talks about the mystery of the seeming absence of color descriptions in ancient texts, and runs through the history of color naming and color perception ideas (among others) in linguistic studies. I don't want to go into too much detail about the trail of breadcrumbs he's trying to lay out, but suffice it to say after an intriguing launch he started losing me halfway through, and by the end I was thoroughly disgusted and so ready for the book to be over.

The Ax

by Donald E. Westlake

I've dissed "thrillers" before, and been chagrined after liking one, and I did read quite a bit of Stephen King in high school. This book was decently amusing, if predictable, and the reading was smooth and fast. Still, I'm not sure how much I'd've enjoyed it if I hadn't been sick on the couch and bored of watching TV. Does have some funny bits, maybe like a Carl Hiaasen book (though I've never read him).

Although the book was written a bit over a decade ago, during the workforce "downsizing" of the mid-to-late '90s, it's interesting to read now during our current economic "downturn." The story is about a guy, unemployed for nearly two years after being laid off from a job he had for 30 years. As an older dude with a rather specialized set of skills, his options are quite limited. In a trade journal he finds an article about some other guy who has exactly the job he wants and for which he is qualified, but he knows he's not the only unemployed polymerized paper production manager in the Northeast. So he hatches a plan: he places a fake help-wanted ad, receives a bunch of résumés, then sets out to kill the five guys who are as qualified or more qualified than he, before killing the guy who has the job he wants. But will everything go according to plan?

Feed

by M.T. Anderson

The fourth book I picked up because of the teen dystopian fiction article in the New Yorker, and the least like the others. Set in a future of near-earth space travel and the intertubes — complete, even replete with context-sensitive advertising — piped directly into the brain, related viruses and diseases, plus a hint of disaffected youth and potential resistance, it has all the right ingredients. The ending, however, was rather anti-climactic and left me feeling as if the story, and the experience of reading it, had no point. Which is, in a way, an accurate adolescent feeling, but still disappointing.

Dreams from the Monster Factory: a tale of prison, redemption and one woman's fight to restore justice to all

by Sunny Schwartz with David Boodell

I have a weird and mostly unanalyzed fascination with prison. (Could it be a gay sort-of-fetish thing?) Anyway, this book doesn't have any sexy bits, like the HBO series Oz, but it's a pretty good read. The author worked in jails in San Francisco, bringing in educational opportunities, anger management classes, and other programs to prepare inmates to rejoin society. Sure, criminals are there to be punished not coddled, but since very nearly all of them will eventually be released, and given the very high rates of recidivism and re-incarceration, it makes sense to use the opportunity to help them. If they're just corralled and left to stew in their own juices, fighting with one another and still being criminals inside the jailhouse, they'll emerge even more bitter and screwed up, more violent and maladjusted. The strength and energy of the author's personality and odds-beating positivity make an engaging story of a subject that could easily be a real downer.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth

by Carrie Ryan

This is the third of the books I read because of the New Yorker article about teen dystopian fiction, and it's the first of them to be a disappointment. It's about zombies and also is kind of like M. Night Shermomanon's The Village. All the necessary elements were there, but the story never really gelled and never really sucked me in. There's a sequel or "companion book" out, but I'm not going to read it. Overall rating: meh.

The Queue

by Vladimir Sorokin

I think I recall from the intro (or afterword or something) and from a review I read, that this book was only recently published in English for the first time. In any case, I'd been meaning to read more Russian novels, so I gave it a try. The story is about people standing in line to buy something in Moscow, in the Soviet days when that was common. Interestingly, it's told entirely in dialog, and without any attribution, and the thing they're meant to be buying is elusive and fungible, and the characters almost seem not to care what they're queuing for even while they're anxious that supplies might run out. The author's intro/outro talks about the symbolic, cultural, historical, psychological, even spiritual properties of the queue vis-à-vis the ethos of the Russian people.

It was a very strange reading experience, given the sort of experimental or postmodern structure, which was at times a bit irritating but ultimately worked somehow to express the author's implicit messages. Particularly and peculiarly effective was a lengthy sex scene (two, actually, maybe three) made up entirely of alternating variations of aah's and haa's. It takes a bit of imaginative effort, but if you let yourself get lost in the rhythm and speed and sounds of the panting exhalations, you might find yourself becoming aroused. I personally found it quite stimulating.

Nothing Nice to Say

by Mitch Clem

This is a collection of comic strips, but there's also somewhat of an ongoing narrative thread, sort of the way Garfield books work. The author provides a helpful brief introduction to his work and characters, and then you can dive right in to the jokey world of punks and musicians. I mostly wanted to read it because one of the characters shown on the cover looks to be a skinny punk bear, but it turns out he's a gopher — becuase Minnesota is the gopher state would be my guess. Anyway, it's fairly light reading but definitely enjoyable and amusing, with a good sense of humor.

String Too Short to Be Saved

by Donald Hall

A co-worker once mentioned the tale of the guy who was cleaning out his grandparents' attic and found a small box neatly labeled "string too short to be saved" — because, even if it's too short to be saved, there's no sense throwing it out until you have a whole box of it, right? As someone with mild hoarding tendencies (but with moon in Virgo, so my shit would organized), I was intrigued, had occasion to tell other people and laugh about it, and mentioned it every now and then to my co-worker.

Though I'd thought the story might be apocryphal, I eventually got around to reading the book, which is a collection of reminiscences of the author's boyhood summers on his grandfather's farm in New Hampshire. The stories are old-fashioned in a sweet and comforting way, and the author's nostalgia (not without ambivalence) for the simple and rustic life rubbed off and gave me a sort of false nostalgia. I don't think he overly romanticized the older folks' vanishing way of life, but I can see how some people might find this book sappy. I rather enjoyed it, though; it was especially nice to read in the woods at the river's edge on a sunny afternoon.

The Disappearing Spoon: and other true tales of madness, love, and the history of the world from the periodic table of the elements

by Sam Kean

Lots of interesting info in this book, but overall it kind of disappointed me. To be frank, I actually had trouble finishing. Wasn't quite what I'd hoped it would be, and I had some issues with the organization. Toward the end in particular, the author told unnecessarily long tangential stories, and while the background stuff is sometimes enlightening, I wanted more hard science. I'd have liked some mention, however brief, of every element's chemical properties, even in the absence of any interesting backstory.

The Whale: In Search of the Giants of the Sea

by Philip Hoare

In many situations, I've contended that so-called ethical arguments for prohibition of killing animals are biologically unsound, because unless you can photosynthesize you have to kill something else in order to live. (And if you can imagine that chickens suffer in a comprehensible way, is it such a big leap to realize plants might not enjoy their experience of farming either? But I digress....) I even argued once that a few countries continuing sustainable, compassionate (as possible) harvest of whales is not that big a deal in the grand scheme.

I still don't worry much about the fate of chickens, but this book really changed my mind about whales. Not that it's a call to action or anything. It's actually a wide-ranging and mostly dispassionate (despite the author's passion for learning about whales) exploration of many aspects of whales and whaling in literature, history, ecology, mythology, and more. But the listing of the numbers and kinds of whales slaughtered in the startlingly short heyday of the whaling industry does not require any bluster: it is a staggering, heartbreaking and obvious case of genocide. Even allowing that most people in the 19th century believed Nature to be inexhaustible, even considering what was not (and still is not) known of whale physiology (not to mention the likelihood of whale psychology), the mind reels at the sheer number of animals killed and the manner in which they were hunted and murdered.

But don't get me wrong — it's not all gloom and doom. The book is, as I said, wide-ranging in subject, despite ultimately being all about whales. It's fairly long, but somehow never dry or boring, in that way of good books about everything and nothing. You needn't be particularly interested in cetaceans or Melville or history to enjoy reading this book, you need only be curious about the world and willing to plumb the depths of your unknowing.

About a Mountain

by John D'Agata

What a strange and wonderful book!

Part memoir, part investigative journalism, full of information and reason and compassion, and that je ne sais quoi of pleasurable reading regardless of the subject. The author, a longtime magazine writer, moves his mother to Las Vegas and winds up lingering there himself, on the fringe of that misbegotten, faux-paradise house of cards in the middle of the desert where no such thing belongs. Mulling over the queer paradox that is his new home, he begins to investigate the long simmering and controversial plan to secrete the nation's spent nuclear reactor fuel in Yucca Mountain, a disturbingly unsuitable scheme for myriad reasons. He also volunteers for a suicide hot line in the American city with the highest rate of such deaths, and he tracks down the story of a young person (not the first) who leapt to oblivion from the observation deck of the Stratosphere hotel, itself a monstrosity in a city of never ending freak shows.

Surely one of the best books I've read this year.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

by D. Travers Scott

The only thing I liked about this book was the sex scene between one of the less-crazy ginger clones and the county sheriff. Other than that, it's pretty terribly written and not even a very good story. It was a recommendation from a friend — sorry, friend!

People Are Unappealing: Even Me

by Sara Barron

If you like David Sedaris... pretty much sums it up. But I really mean it. This book is super hilarious, so funny that you'll laugh just remembering some of the stories. Like, the one where she goes to her parent's house for some holiday and finds her old journal, in which at the age of 11 she wrote a script for a porno movie, and somehow decides it will be fun/funny, rather than horrifyingly humiliating (which of course it is), to bring it downstairs and show it to her family.

The Moon and the Sandals, vols. 1 & 2

by Fumi Yoshinaga

It bears repeating, Fumi Yoshinaga is possibly the greatest boys-love manga creator ever! (Previous posts here.)

This beautifully drawn series is mostly about a developing student-teacher relationship, with the student as the aggressor, and with some appeareances by the teacher's ex. The story doesn't dwell much on the questionable ethics of the relationship, but neither does it make that transgressive element the main focus of the eroticism and romance — this sort of complexity and ambiguity is characteristc of the author's work, and is often missing from other yaoi. While I quite enjoyed the first, the second volume seemed kind of sketchy and forced, but then it was nice, too, to see indications of the characters coming out at work and to parents in the later chapters of their relationship.

Truly Kindly
     and
Lovers in the Night

by Fumi Yoshinaga

Ordered both of these through the interlibrary loan service, and it turned out Truly Kindly had to come from the Library of Congress and would have to be in-library-use only. It's a wide-ranging collection of vignettes with different characters, with some nice sexy bits and also thoughtful exploration of many aspects of relationships between men. It includes different historical periods and cultures, interracial dating, coming out later in life after being married, relationship violence, and more. Very, very good all around.

Lovers in the Night expands the story of Claude and Antoine, a master and servant tale set in 18th century France and introduced in Truly Kindly. Over all I liked it less, found the characters less sympathetic and the story more trite. On the other hand, how much can one complain about a book in which, on the second page, a character narrates, "After he ejaculated in my mouth, he brought me to the mansion of an aristocrat"?

Citrus County

by John Brandon

The review I read of this book made it sound interesting and horrible at the same time, maybe like looking at photos of disasters or gross medical conditions. In this case, the "conditions" from which the characters suffer are psychological: extreme narcissism, emotional retardation, etc. Nothing really unusual, actually, in 21st century America, but turned up to 11. Oh, yes, people are monsters and do horrible things, but they're just slightly worse or a little less inhibited than the rest of us — oh, but the delicious thrill for us normal folk to peer into the dark, dead hearts of inhumane creatures! In some ways it reminded me of the creepy ending of the 2001 French movie Fat Girl, directed by Catherine Breillat, and any number of Todd Solondz films, as well as at least one other book I've read whose title escapes me at the moment.... But this book is actually not so bad to read, I guess, since I got through the whole thing rather quickly. Still, it can be somewhat draining to have to deal with The Sociopath Next Door. (That being the title of a nonfiction book that's quite interesting and disturbing itself. When you read it, who among your friends and family will you recognize?)

McSweeney's is the future of book publishing, by the way. I keep reading all this chicken little crap about how physical books will disappear soon, but no e-book will ever replace the tactile experience of reading books. So if a publisher wants to survive the so-called e-book revolution, they ought to be making books like this one, artfully constructed and sensual. The cover of Citrus County actually has textural elements incorporated in its design. You'll never get that on your Kindle.

Taming the Gods: religion and democracy on three continents

by Ian Buruma

Although the author certainly makes some very interesting points about ways religions have (sometimes negatively) influenced the development of governmental forms in various cultures, this book wasn't really what I'd hoped it would be. The writing isn't great, sometimes difficult and unnecessarily pretentious/intellectual. Being quite anti-religion myself, I was hoping for a rather stronger condemnation of religion's political effects to follow the historical survey. I was disappointed, but it's pretty short, so not for long.

Twelfth Grade Kills

by Heather Brewer

Finally! The last installment in the Chronicles of Vladimir Tod is out, so I can at last be released from this terrible writer's clutches.

Reading this book was very frustrating and resulted in much moaning aloud, even at one point a powerful urge to throw the book out the window. I really wasn't prepared for this one being even more poorly written than the first four books, but there are major continuity problems, excessive melodrama, sheer stupidity, irritating cuteness, predictable plot, unsurprising (and poorly executed) surprise ending, and many more pulp fiction horrors. But I had to read it, you know?

None of this series is well-written, but somehow it was easier to overlook in the first two or three books. The depth of badness to which the fifth book has sunk is making me question my enjoyment of the earlier volumes. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I was on heavy duty, post-wisdom-teeth-extraction painkillers when I read the first book. Oh, well, it's over now, and I survived.

A fifth of zines

At Home on the Earth, by Brian Oaster
This mini-comic presents a tragic you-can't-go-home-again tale of interstellar/time travel and environmental forewarning — sounds as if it's sad, but both the story and the drawing style offer hope in the form of childlike innocence and optimism.

Paper Birds: Styrofoam Flowers, by Christopher Brandon Arendt
Recollections and political musings from a former Guantanamo guard, unfortunately (or is it mercifully?) sketchy but still provocative.

Cool Things About My Exes that Mean Nothing, by Becky Morton and friends
Being a four-letter word, I suppose "cool" can mean weird, awesome, tragic, unique, embarrassing, horrible, special.... and anyway, whether good, bad or ugly, the cavalcade of former lovers is always a comedy goldmine.

Brazilianoir, by Emily Stackhouse and Nicholas Shahan
Stolen camera, trans-Atlantic cruise, spies and sex-pots. I think this is only the beginning of a longer story, which leaves it feeling too sketchy, but there's potential for something solid to develop.

Two Truths in Food Presents: A Double Scoop of Mendacity, by David Beller
A collection of real news articles about food and the food industry — some disgusting, some sad, some infuriating, all outrageous — that you'll have to pretend aren't true in order to eat anything ever again.

Ilse Content #7, by Alexis Wolf
Read these stories about oddball relatives, and you'll feel like part of the family. Great writing and presentation give it that je ne sais quois of engaging perzines and memoirs.

Diary of a Metal Girl: selected writings & illustrations, 1985-1989, by Jen Sbragia
You don't have to have a head-banging past to appreciate these selected journal entries. Big hair, loud music and tight acid-wash jeans are just the particulars that spice up this universal tale of teen angst and self-discovery, dotted with moments of hilarity. Heavy metal meets John Hughes?

Intrepid Girl Reporter, by Jessica Abel
It's a darn good thing the drawing is precise, because this mini-comic is dense as hell. Lots of words and tiny but well-detailed illustrations about the author's endeavors in journalism.

I Like Girls, by Erika Moen
I recall this being a fairly cute coming-out story about a baby-dyke finding the courage to tell her mom she has a girlfriend. And her brother turns out gay too, I think.

Picaresque #9, by Brendan Rocks
Despite some pagination issues, I really enjoyed this laugh-out-loud funny piece of work, which is a collection of vignettes about people and events from back in the day, high school or middle school or whatever, that are hilarious even though you don't know the people in them.

Black Giraffe #2, by Brandon Freels
A surreal anarcho-Communist art/dream manifesto? While not totally inscrutable, it's definitely hard to pin down, but at least it's short.

In the Tall Grass #3, by Tessa Brunton
An unmemorable (for me) collection of autobiographical girly comics. Not girly in a bad way, just very gynocentric (not in an anatomical way).

Make Something! an Anthology of Portland Zinesters, edited by Greig Means
Not just a zinesters mecca, Portland is D.I.Y.-to-die-for as well, and this compilation is the natural result. At the moment, I can't remember any of the specific projects, but I kinda remember being jazzed about D.I.'ing some things myself.

Nine Gallons: True Stories, by Susie Cagel
A comic about the author's experience working with Food Not Bombs, with some background info about the organization on the last page. I had some friends who were into the group, and we all jokingly called it Food Not Flies.

Sing Along Forever: a love letter to the Bouncing Souls, by Liz Baillie
Liz's enthusiasm is infectious, making it irrelevant that you might have no idea who the Bouncing Souls are. For me, personally, it also helped that in the grainy, photocopied black-and-white photos, band member Bryan is possibly hot.

Tales of Blarg! #9, by Janelle Hessig
Comix, notes, stories, doodles and other punk weirdness and awesomeness, with really great chapter headings, such as "Ugly people I wanna do it to", "Hipster vs. crusty", and "A pig in shit (a guide to good stuff)". Very fun and entertaining.

Burn Collector#13, by Al Burian
This classic perzine has moments of real eloquence: "the Italians look to the ruins, shrug their shoulders, and recognize Berlusconi as a blip on the screen. He'll be gone soon. Nero was worse." On the other hand, the author is anti-capitalist/globalism but flies (guiltily) to Europe; and he references Guy de Bord, but at times sounds rather Randian. There's also a nice riff on "life is art," so what the hell is reality TV?

The CIA makes science fiction unexciting. #2 : chemical biological weapons, CIA documents about the AIDS virus, & "cures" killing faster than AIDS!
This is part of a series of "CIA makes..." zines put out by Microcosm Publishing. I haven't read the others closely enough to question their factual foundations, but, though I was wary of this one at first, I was willing to give it a chance. I mean, cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs is a valid viewpoint, right? It's got some editing issues and definite conspiracy bent, but it's not as bad as some stuff I've read about HIV, not quite outright lies, just the usual paranoid connecting of dots that aren't related, leaping to conclusions and filling in gaps with wild surmises. Questioning the official narrative is fine, but there's real danger and lives on the line, so tread carefully.

Cometbus #53, by Aaron Cometbus
Cometbus is a classic for sure. It's so hard to describe what makes a good perzine... some writers are just good writers and it's a pleasure to read anything they write, and some people have a way of making you feel close even though you've never met.

The Indifference of Places, by Carolee Gilligan Wheeler
As I age, travel loses some of its appeal — unless I can stay in a fancy hotel. But anyone can relate to this recounting of a trip to/from hell. Bad weather, weird food, the whole nine.

Welcome to Bend #1, by Laura Walker
A precious little illustrated zine, gloriously oddly constructed, with tidbits and triva about that surprising big city-town in the middle of our lovely state.

Sadist Science Teacher, by Kelly Froh
I love Kelly's comics of oddballs and misfits (often family members), but this one felt a little subpar. Oh, well, can't be full-force all the time.

Publick Occurances #12, by Danny Martin
A tiny zine with tiny, heavily inked, almost lino-cut or block-print looking portraits of many heavy metal superstars. Hard to explain, but I could stare at it for ages and ages! Especially impressive is the artist's talent drawing hair, which is well-exercised with these musicians. It was also fun guessing who they are and checking with the answer-key in the back.

Still Life: adventures in taxidermy

by Melissa Milgrom

I was going to complain about finding "Bilboa" where it should have said "Bilbao," but it's been too long since I read this book for me to muster the necessary indignation, or to recall why this particular mistake was the straw that broke my back, or if it was emblematic of some steadier thread of idiocy.

Thinking about it now, I just recall an informative, entertaining and reasonably well written book about the history of taxidermy (curiosity cabinets, natural history museums, etc.) and the contemporary culture of artistic animal preservation. I didn't care much for the chapter about the woman who does dead animals for Damien Hirst, mostly because I think he's a hack; the woman in question is actually quite an interesting character in her way. The book presents a fair number of additional oddballs and plenty of bizarre historical details. (If you happen to be at an estate sale and see a diorama of stuffed kittens in an old-fashioned schoolroom, or some similar freakishness, buy it for me and I'll pay you back!)

Not a great book, but solid. If you read voraciously, go for it. If you're only going to read a few books this year, you can do better.

Nurtureshock: new thinking about children

by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman

This is absolutely not a parenting book. There's plenty in it to interest parents (and a big notes and references section to point the way to more details), but it's probably more interesting for someone not in the midst of raising a child. I say this because the book is a whirlwind tour of the most intriguing tidbits culled from recent scholarship on child development and psychology. Although thoroughly researched, it's quite superficial and kind of sensationalistic, so it might make parents freak out and feel overwhelmed.

Which is ironic, since the authors opine in the introduction that news media tend to present current research and discoveries as infotainment and fail to provide sufficient context or follow up. They also make a big deal about the false assumptions and misleading instincts we adults have about child psychology and neurological development and learning, etc. Seeing through or beyond those prejudices was the key to most of the "new thinking" presented in the book, they say. Because they're presenting so many stunning insights so rapidly and shallowly, it would be all to easy to forget their caveats and leap to unfounded conclusions, turning these seemingly counter-intuitive ideas into the new false assumptions. It's not a huge criticism, in the end, because I found the book enjoyable, interesting and easy to read. Ultimately, I think, it's down to the fact that the book is more a collection of articles (they're magazine writers by trade), and in any case written for an educated but not necessarily statistically savvy or scientifically inclined audience.

Anyway, a few morsels to whet your appetite: praise can backfire, lying is a sign of intelligence (kids) and respect (teens), educational television programs can teach more bad lessons than good, and kids who seem "gifted" at 3 are quite likely to be ordinary five years later.

Bleak House

by Charles Dickens

Wow-wow-wow-wow-WOW! I can't believe how good this book is. I've read some other Dickens, including the obligatory A Tale of Two Cities in high school, but I wasn't able truly to appreciate the genius of Dickens until adulthood.

I think it's important to want to read Dickens, because if you don't, and you read it lazily or quickly or superficially — the way I did most of the books I read for high school, and even college — you miss so much just in the simple facts of the plot, let alone the more intricate details. I mean, how did I manage to "read" every single word in A Tale of Two Cities and then immediately afterward fail to recognize names of characters or major plot points? Sloppy, careless reading, that's how.

Now that I'm older and I have more patience, I'm not only able but also enjoy being able to read closely and to savor the challenge of Victorian grammar and circuitous tact. The perfect example, one that I shared with several people while still reading this book, is when one of the characters dies of spontaneous combustion: if you weren't paying attention, you could breeze right through the four-sentence paragraph explaining it and only realize half a page later that something important happened that you totally missed. It's an important event in terms of the plot, but also by its very nature — spontaneous freakin' combustion! — and yet Dickens' description seems restrained and ambiguous to a modern reader accustomed to straightforward language and artless fiction.

Like most of Dickens' novels, Bleak House is a social critique (lambasting, in this case, the legal system), but it's also a suspenseful mystery and a love story (or several love stories, technically). It's also widely regarded as Dickens' most mature work, whatever that's supposed to mean. After reading the novel, I read both the introduction to this edition and the appendicized G.K. Chesterton intro to an earlier addition. Both agreed about the supposed maturity of the work, but for rather different reasons. Either way, this is one gee-dee fantastic book. Two plot twists made me gasp out loud, and at several points I had to cover the pages to stop myself from skipping ahead — it's that good. (Tempting to put it in the Top 10...)

The Maze Runner

by James Dashner

Oh, damn bloody hell! This excellent young adult book is the first of a planned trilogy; the second book might be out in October, but my library doesn't appear to have it on order yet. I dare say it's very close to almost as good as The Hunger Games, and finishing it certainly gave me similar feelings of elation laced with frustration, despair and impatience.

I heard about it in a short article about teen dystopian fiction in the June 14, 2010, issue of the New Yorker. It's an interesting article comparing/contrasting adult and young adult literary dystopias (dystopiae?), and it mentions The Hunger Games, of course, and several other books I decided to read based on what it said about them. This is the first of those that I've read. It's exciting, filled with danger and death, combining elements of Hunger Games, Ender's Game, 13 Monkeys, in a wrapping of fresh mystery and cruel unknowing: memory wiped, a young man wakes in the center of huge maze that changes every night, as yet unsolved by the 40-some young men already trapped there. Oh, and there's scary mechanized creatures that mostly come at night, mostly.

Just as a side note, I think the author might be Mormon. A page on the website for the book has a link to a profile of him in the Deseret News, a Mormon newspaper. Interesting, since Orson Scott Card (author of Ender's Game) is Mormon, as is Stephenie Meyer (Twilight series). Wonder if Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games) is too?

Eleventh Grade Burns

by Heather Brewer

I've never read any of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, and I think the movies so far are pretty hilarious (though unintentionally so), but I'm glad I haven't invested a lot of energy in mocking Twi-hards. Because this series is my Twilight. Having read the third book, I'm no longer capable of objectively assessing the writing. I'm too wrapped up in the story and blindly loyal to the protagonist, young half-vampire-half-human Vladimir Tod.

The next book is supposed to come out in September, but as far as I can see my library doesn't have it on-order yet. I'll just die if they don't get it!

The Kingdom of Ohio

by Matthew Flaming

Grrrr. This book was annoying. It didn't deliver much on the transdimensional time travel angle that made me interested in it in the first place. Yes, time travel occurred — or did it?! — but it didn't really make sense and wound up feeling romantic and New Age-y, a bit in the vein of Nicholas Sparks (who makes me gag). It's not that I expected hard science fiction, but it came so close to an explanation that comports with known physical laws, and then it just crapped out like a middle schooler's attempt at suspense that ends with "and then I woke up."

It's not terrible, I just didn't like it, but I can see how others might. Personally, though, I don't know why I even read the whole thing.

Antique Bakery, vols. 1-4

by Fumi Yoshinaga

I've praised the work of this author previously (here), and I have to say this series totally delivers! And lots of other people must like it too, because it's also been made into a television series in Japan and a movie in Korea. It combines great storytelling with beautifuly soft and stylish illustration, and the characters are intriguing and well-developed.

A fancy patisserie owned by a lower-middle-aged former businessman — who, as a child, was abducted and held captive and fed cake for several weeks before escaping — is the setting and back-story. A bit of a ladies' man, he's very suave and attractive but ultimately unlucky in love. One of the other characters, a young former boxer apprenticed to the head pastry chef, calls him "geezer," but the age difference is barely noticeable in the illustrations. The main visual cue that sets him apart is his subtle stubble.

Rather unassuming, maybe even slightly geeky at first glance, the incredibly talented head pastry chef is frequently referred to as "a gay of demonic charm," due to his siren-like ability to seduce anyone who comes near, be they gay or straight, male or female. Somewhat unusual for yaoi manga, he came to terms with his homosexuality in high school and since then has been about as "out" as he can be within the weird borders of Japanese culture. There is, however, one person impervious — actually, more like oblivious to his charms: the fourth employee of the bakery is very tall, quite dopey and, since childhood, fiercely loyal to the owner.

It's easy to see why this became a TV show, with it's underlying story and episodic story arcs. The series doesn't include any actual sex that I can remember, but it definitely includes frank discussion of sexual themes, so it's PG-13 for sure. (On the cover, it's rated "mature, for 18+".)

War by Candlelight

by Daniel Alarcón

There was a time when I read a lot of short stories. Not sure why I stopped. I recently took a look at The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis, but it's super long and a bunch of other people had it on hold. I did read a few stories, and those I read were quite good, but one can't just plow through a collection of short stories the way one can plow through a novel (or even really good creative nonfiction). Sometimes a bit of space is needed between stories.

Even in a collection whose stories are thematically (if loosely) linked — such as this collection by Peruvian-born, Alabama-raised author Daniel Alarcón — I like to relax a bit after finishing a story, before plunging into the next one. And stalling is pretty much what I'm doing now, not because I disliked this book, but because I wasn't really moved by it. Could be a case of me getting older and [shudder] more conservative, and not identifying with the "voice of the oppressed" as easily as when I was young and idealistic (and narcissistic); or maybe tragedy fatigue has gotten to me, and the million major catastrophes underway at any given moment have made me insensitive to the thousand little tragedies of everyday life in an impoverished city; or perhaps this collection of stories isn't so great. Or maybe I just didn't like it. It's okay not to like stuff.

The Chocolate War

by Robert Cormier

Sometimes I read a classic and think, "Seriously?!" This is a fantastic book, though, and it deserves to be a classic of young adult literature. It's a bit controversial and over the years has been challenged (as the American Library Association calls it when some wingnut tries to have a book removed from a library or school curriculum), but, as anyone with sense can realize, the bits to which censors object are often the very same parts that make the book challenging and edifying to read. In this case, the story includes violence and bullying, as well as some sexual references. I wonder, though, if some of the haters are actually more disturbed by the way the adults are portrayed as mostly disinterested and, in one major character, frankly despicable.

Bottom line: this book is good enough that I read the whole thing in one day — and then watched the movie version a couple hours later. In addition to being a freakin' amazing late '80s time capsule (the main character is the same actor who played Wyatt in Weird Science, and the clothes! and the music!), the film does a good job capturing the characters' complexities. As movies often do, however, it kind of butchers the ending; I don't know what I'd have thought of the ending if I hadn't just read the book that day, but it barely made sense to me compared to the original ending.

In the Fold

by Rachel Cusk

A darkly comical British domestic drama with sharply drawn characters, this book is a real pleasure to read. I'm really impressed by the grammar — how many writers manage not to end a sentence with a preposition without sounding awkward? — but the greater source of enjoyment is the odd comfort that flows from the absurdity of social relations and the asininity of relatives. The story is also sort of a comedy of manners, in the sense that politeness, for the British upper and upper-middle classes, is not (as it is for Americans) about doing the right thing but about seeming unperturbed and unconcerned with other people's and even one's own misbehaviors. The author offers a more modern version, as well, of the classic stiff upper lip in the form of a suburban conformity and complacency that somehow comes off as charming, at least in contrast with the obvious sociopathy of the putatively self-actualized characters.

Am I telling you anything that will make you want to read this book? It's not easy to do with books such as this one. The comparison that comes quickest to mind is Mark Haddon's A Spot of Bother, or perhaps All Families Are Psychotic by Douglad Coupland.

Be Near Me

by Andrew O'Hagan

After a slow start, this haunting book really pulls the reader into the morass of the protagonist's existential angst. Which sounds bad, but it can be delicious agony when executed properly. In part because of the hint of intergenerational romance, but mostly because of the emotional timbre of desperate yearning, Be Near Me reminds me of Call Me by Your Name. The skillful vivisection of a mind twisted by self-alienation puts me in mind of novels by Edward St. Aubyn, and likewise reminds one of the raw and unflinching interiority of Virginia Woolf's best work.

This book would stand up to re-reading in the future, and the writing is that sort which induces repeated re-reading and relishing of particular passages. I almost don't want to tell you the story is about a Scottish priest, for fear it will put you off as it nearly did me. His being a priest is somehow essential and immaterial at the same time, such that there's little enough religion and very little that a religious adherent would recognize as spiritual.

Like a cigarette (according to Oscar Wilde), it is exquisite and it leaves one unsatisfied. This book would be a serious contender for Top 10 status, but 10 is such a small number compared to the millions of books in the world and the thousands I've read; without diminishing it's greatness, I think it's more likely in a four-way tie for a rank in the upper teens or twenties.

The Tyranny of E-mail: the four-thousand-year journey to your inbox

by John Freeman

A disappointing and frustrating book, but it could have been so great!

Biggest problem is that it's not well-edited. Freeman seems at times to want to write like Alain de Botton (The Architecture of Happiness), and he's not so far off the mark, but better editing would have helped. It also could have addressed some of the larger structural issues. For example, the "four-thousand-year journey to your inbox" has no depth until the most recent few hundred years, and the last two chapters feel tacked-on and completely at odds with the tone of the rest of the book. The occasional brilliant sentences and insights only draw more attention to the unevenness and shortcomings of the whole.

I agree with many of the book's criticisms of e-mail and the cult(ure) of gadgetry, the myth of the global village and the failures of technology. I quickly grew weary, however, of the Chicken Little-ing and the constant use of "we" when describing the extreme rather than the common or average. No more than a few pages are devoted to the digital divide, even though there are at least four divides — generational, temperamental, socio-economic, geographic — that could have been explored.

Do I regret reading this book? No, but I didn't learn much and I don't feel particularly enriched by the experience.

Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs

by Irvine Welsh

If you like Chuck Palahniuk.... I actually haven't read much Chuck, and I've only seen the movie of Trainspotting, but this book has me convinced that Palahniuk and Welsh, both being laddish versions of Douglas Coupland, could have a fair amount of fans in common. Bedroom Secrets is a gripping narrative of unexpected — one is tempted to say spiritual, or, perhaps for machismo's sake, supernatural — connections, although the final twist is too inevitable to be surprising. (Or is the reader too jaded to be surprised?) The real surprise, the real charm of this book is not in the plot, rather it's the way the author manipulates the reader's affection and loyalty for the co-protagonists against the grain and in opposition to their evolving relationship. As it's a bullying relationship, finding oneself despising the victim can be an awkward experience; that disorientation, though, is what this book is ultimately all about.

The Confession

by James E. McGreevey

It doesn't matter that I read this memoir by former Mayor McGay of New Jersey several years after his scandalous — and simultaneously, strangely, inspirational — coming out and resignation. I didn't want to read it for salacious gossip and voyeuristic thrills. What fascinated me, and what McGreevey's done a great job of expressing, is the phenomenon of closetedness. In this particular case, the author's political career, public persona and accompanying media attention lend an emphasis or increased contrast to the psychological drama, but the dynamics of denial and self-loathing, of craving and indulgence and shame, are the same as for any person living a life at odds with an essential part of his or her identity.

Kids today publicly self-identify as queer at younger ages than did gays and lesbians of even one generation earlier. Despite newsworthy examples to the contrary, they are more frequently and more easily accepted by their peer groups. My own coming out experience wasn't particularly traumatizing or dramatic, in part because my understanding of my orientation and all its implications was gradual rather than sudden. I don't remember consciously feeling closeted or ashamed, and no one rejected me, but some of what McGreevey has written has cast new light on certain faded recollections. In any case, it's hard enough for me, just 16 years younger than the author, to imagine the difficulties of being homosexual in an earlier era, the fear of being outcast and the temptation of clinging to conformity. Imagine how much harder it is, and will continue to become, for younger homos who ever more readily find acceptance. The experience of the closet is an important part of social history and collective remembrance, and Jim McGreevey's eloquent and honest memoir is a significant contribution to its preservation.