The Screwed-Up Life of Charlie the Second

by Drew Ferguson

I guess my library doesn't have this book anymore, so I'm glad I read it when I did. I certainly have some complaints about it, but overall I quite liked it. Being about teenagers, this book would have been a young adult book if not for the graphic sex scenes. I mean, teen fiction often has sex, but not with this level of detail in the descriptions. Older teens could definitely handle this aspect of the book, and younger ones probably could too, even if their parents don't want to admit it.

The main character is pretty likeable, if dopey and naive at times. (Maybe he's just hopeful and uncynical, unlike grown-up me.) He struggles with being gay in high school, his parents' separation, general high school angst. The ending is crushingly sad and traumatic. The most important secondary character reacts to his own difficulties in a way that didn't make sense to me, though his response might seem to someone else to be the natural one, and maybe it could have been adequately explained if the book had been about him.

Kiss & Tell

by Alain de Botton

I love this author's nonfiction books so much, particularly because of his writing style, that I decided to take a chance on this novel. Forever philosophical and always quotable, de Botton turns a simple love story into an exploration of love as an act of biography, and mistaken biography at that. One quotation from this book that sums up the whole premise, I liked so much that I wrote it on my wall. It's something to the effect that we are never more wrong about who someone is than when we are in love, because we are in love with the person we believe them to be or want them to be — a person capable of loving us — rather than the person they really are.

Verdict: an enjoyable book, pleasant to read, that is more than just its story. Not recommended if you're all about the plot or looking for earnest romance, though it's not entirely cynical on the possibilities of love.

Sex and the River Styx

by Edward Hoagland

Lordy, lordy! Writing about a book I read four (five?) years ago sure can be challenging. I'm at a total loss as to how I found out about this book, since it's not the sort I normally read or casually encounter, but I'd bet that the title grabbed me. In any case, I liked it enough that I regularly put it on the staff picks shelf.

I'm usually hesitant to read a collection of essays, unless they're humorous ones in the vein of David Sedaris. This aversion is probably due to some negative association between essays and schoolwork, or the feeling that most essayists are cranky older men, but I ought to try and get over it, because so many great writers write essays, and when the writing is really good the subject hardly matters. Also, the essay format is readily digestible, amenable to skipping around, and easy to put down and let go if you're not enjoying yourself. Reminds me of reading Harper's or The Atlantic Monthly.

This collection finds the author examining his experience of aging and re-examining his earlier experiences, while he writes about his childhood explorations in the woods of rural Connecticut, his years working in the circus, and his many travels around the world. A thread of melancholy and the feeling of imminent endings are woven throughout the book, but so is a sense of wonder and transcendence. I recommend this book to anyone who takes pleasure in well-crafted language and thoughtful commentary on being human.

Trashed

by Derf Backderf

If you don't have anything nice to say... just ignore the guy's name. I imagine there's some kind of story behind it, right?

Anyway, this graphic novel pairs fictional episodes in the life of a garbage man, based on the author's own stint as a refuse collector (sanitation engineer?), with factoids about the history of trash, trash trucks, landfills, and the disposable economy. The amount of garbage we humans, and our associated industries, generate is nothing short of astonishing, and the ways we make it "disappear" are grossly inadequate. Not surprising, if you give it any thought, but then most of us never do. The stories of what it's like to be the ones picking up curbside are pretty much what you'd imagine, but very entertaining nonetheless. Well-done all around — art, coloring, dialogue — on thick paper in a strong binding: a solid piece of work both artistically and physically.

Spinoza: the outcast thinker

by Devra Lehmann

I only had vague notions of 17th century philosopher Baruch (a k a Benedictus) Spinoza until I read Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain, by Antonio Damasio, during my period of fascination with neuroscience. Ever since, though, I've wanted to know more about him and his philosophy. I'm still not sure I want to go directly to the source and read Spinoza's masterwork, Ethics, because I like not being in school and don't want to feel academic. (I'm less intellectual than I sometimes pretend, or am sometimes taken to be.)

When I stumbled across this book, it seemed like a nice way to learn a little more without having to resort to reading straight-up philosophy. While I enjoyed this book, it's mostly biographical and only explains points of his philosophy as they are germane to events in his life and his difficulties in getting his work published, as well as the religious and political establishments' negative reactions to his work. I could have learned more about Spinoza's philosophy by reading his Wikipedia page. Even so, Spinoza's life, and reading about the cultural and intellectual climate of the time (1660s-'70s Amsterdam), is super interesting — and it's got me feeling a bit braver about reading Ethics.

The book seems really well researched, and the author is very clear about instances in which she's speculating how Spinoza might have felt. The writing is clear and smart without, for the most part, over-explaining. I was thinking the author might be a high school teacher, which would explain this writing style, and in trying to confirm that supposition I've noticed that this book won the 2014 National Jewish Book Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature. I totally get this being a book aimed at teens, and Spinoza's independent thinking, resistance to authority, and disregard for tradition certainly have some teen appeal as well.

Men of the Manor: erotic encounters between upstairs lords and downstairs lads

edited by Rob Rosen


Nasty Boys: rough trade erotica

edited by Shane Allison

These books are anthologies, so obviously the stories are hit-or-miss (or in-between). I don't want to go into a lot of detail as to which stories appealed to me more, because personal reasons. I've never been too shy on this blog, but this time around you can tell enough about my preferences from the titles of these two books. On the whole, I'd say more stories were good than were not good. I even read a few of them more than once, and at least one has a permanent entry in the Rolodex.

One complaint, which I have about a lot of porn — er, "erotica — is that there's not a lot of condoms being used in these stories. Men of the Manor, being a period piece, has a built in excuse, I guess. I don't want to get into a whole thing about it, but I came of age when condoms were the only tool (other than abstinence and/or monogamy) to protect oneself against HIV and when living with HIV was much more difficult, so I tend to reflexively expect safe(r) sex. Obviously, sex feels better without condoms, but I personally always feel a little icky when the lack of condoms is over-emphasized as an erotic element, which isn't actually the case in most of these stories, but I'm also disappointed when the choices about safe(r) sex are completely glossed over, which is mostly what happens in these books. A couple of times, a character does briefly consider his safe(r) sex options but quickly decides "fuck it," which is even more disappointing that not bringing it up at all.

The Edge of the World:  a cultural history of the North Sea and the transformation of Europe

by Michael Pye

OMG I loved this book! It's the sort of history book I adore, though not the best kind for thorough learning, a book that revels in details and unexpected connections, the sort of things for which a textbook has no room. The writing is engaging and intelligent, and the presentation of information is more artful than methodical.

In another context, I wrote a one-sentence blurb about this book; one of my best blurbs ever, IMHO: "A highly readable anecdotal narrative history of civilization around the North Sea from 476 to 1492 that skitters around the timeline in various thematic chapters, each a lens through which the author examines the importance of sea travel as the impetus and/or vehicle for social changes and technological developments."

If you're preoccupied with diversity and subverting the dominant paradigm, this book probably is not for you. By which I don't mean that it's pushing some sort of hegemonic agenda per se, only that it's very tightly focused on a particular time period in a certain place, and that place just happens to be the source of many globalized ideas and cultural norms and aspirations that, it could easily be argued, historically have not been disseminated in a way that is respectful of indigenous societies or sensitive to the differing narratives of the oppressed.

Annoying: the science of what bugs us

by Joe Palaca and Flora Lichtman

This book is really annoying. Everything that is wrong with some popular science books is wrong with this book. All the things.

Full Rip 9.0: the next big earthquake in the Pacific Northwest

by Sandi Doughton

Waited too long to read this book, so the experience was tainted by The New Yorker's alarmist and misleading article and associated internet click bait. The introduction is quite melodramatic, but the human stories threaded throughout the narrative are nicely told. Good science for the most part and okay writing, though you can tell she's more a journalist than a long-form author. At the time I had some specific quibbles but can't recall them now; they were pretty minor.

Most important take-away: yes, it will be terrible when the Cascadia Subduction Zone quake happens, but it's not as overdue as it's often made out to be. 'Course, it could happen any time....

Wicked Bugs: the louse that conquered Napoleon's army & other diabolical insects

by Amy Stewart

Well, ya know, I could've sworn I read the author's other book, Wicked Plants, but I guess not. We seem to be in pre-saved reading history territory, so maybe I'll never know.

Whichever book I read, I recall that it was pretty good in that science-lite sort of way. I wouldn't have minded more science details, but this book is no science slouch. It's done catalog style, without an over-arching narrative structure. Many bugs are covered, and some get more attention than others. Reviews are suggesting the book has a sense of humor, which I vaguely recall now that I've been prompted, but it's not the most striking feature. The focus, not surprisingly, is on bugs' effects on humans, from painful stings to parasitism and from the personal to the historic.

Being a "toilet book" (small, lots of short bits easy to read sporadically), Wicked Bugs could be a cute gift book, either for someone who's into insects, or in jest for someone who hates bugs.

Grave Mercy

Dark Triumph

Mortal Heart

by Robin LaFevers

Dogs "bay," donkeys "bray." A tremble or shiver is a "shudder," not a "shutter." A cloud can't really "scuttle" because it can't move furtively, but it's quite common for clouds to be described as "scudding." (Errors and/or editing deficiencies from the third book; I also saw four or five typos, mostly toward the end, which suggests rushing toward a deadline.)

Now that I've got that off my chest... I really liked these books — like, an embarrassing amount. I read the His Fair Assassin series over a span of three years, so not all at once, but I never doubted I would read them all. I stayed up too late reading each one.

The series has excellent ingredients: young adult fiction, strong female characters, danger, political intrigue, a bit of supernatural, and thrilling romance. The first book came out in 2012, when everyone was still looking for or trying to be the next Hunger Games, so I'm kind of surprised that the series seems not to have gotten all that much attention. Could be the late Medieval setting wasn't a draw for some people, but it's sort of Game of Thrones-y and therefore even more attuned to the zeitgeist. Also, the covers are very pretty and dramatic (even cinematic) looking. Go figure.

I actually think the setting of the books in Brittany at the very end of the Middle Ages was one of the best things about the series and really set it apart from other books that imitated Hunger Games by featuring young women and deadly combat. The author uses figures and events from actual history (though she does take artistic liberties), and makes great use of the period's pagan Celtic beliefs, which were waning in the face of Christianity but persisted longer on the Breton peninsula than they did in most of mainland Europe.

This book series could make an excellent television show. It offers plenty of room to be creative with costumes and sets and filming locations, and the multiple lead characters have overlapping but not strictly concurrent storylines that would translate well into a weekly show.

Uprooted

by Naomi Novik

Thinking about this book and how to review it, I'm reminded of a quote from Lindsay Hill's Sea of Hooks: "Grief keeps coming back with the same things in its hands--Grief comes back again, its hands full of the same things arranged differently" — at first, simply because the writer of Uprooted manages to take elements common to many fantasy/magic stories and arrange them in a fresh way, but the more I consider it, the more ways I see this quote is applicable: the protagonist, a hedgewitch of sorts, and her wizard foil use the same magic but manipulate it in different ways, and grief is at the root of the immense evil they must fight against together.

I liked this book more than I expected I would. I almost didn't even read it, and now I can easily say it's one of the best books I read in 2015, an exciting book that kept me up late reading. Though I may not be qualified to say so, I feel as if the main character is more feminist than some of the popular strong/bad-ass female characters of recent years. (Yes, Katniss, I'm talking about you.) Uprooted has a dash of romance, too, and a conclusive yet not entirely resolved ending that is open in a way that suggests future possibilities for the characters without being obvious groundwork for a sequel.

A Kind of Intimacy

by Jenn Ashworth

I don't remember what sold me on this book, but it is published by Europa Editions, which always will get me to at least consider a book. In any case, though it's been a while since, I remember this book being not too shabby. Not great or truly memorable, but entertaining enough and not a slog at all.

Sometimes I don't think I really understand what "psychological fiction" is — and that's one of the subject headings for this novel. As is "overweight women," which is kinda weird. I mean, I guess I remember the main character being described as, and considering herself as, overweight, but that fact wasn't really integral to the plot. The book's not about her being overweight, though I guess it does factor into her mental state, which is the "psychological" bit, then. She's had some kind of trauma and goes into something resembling a fugue, but maybe she's just a sociopath and a pathological liar — or is she?! — or isn't she?! — or is she?!

Looking back it reminds me a bit of a slightly sinister and suspenseful version of Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone, without the triumphal ending. But maybe I'm just stuck on the obesity thing. Probably more like a sinister and suspenseful version of The Dive from Clausen's Pier.

Prepare to Die!

by Paul Tobin

I think someone told me this author lives or lived in Portland, or at least somewhere in Oregon, which sort of pushed me over the edge when I was on the fence about reading this book. Also, I think I saw it on a list made by some library staff.

In any case, the book didn't thrill me. It's definitely nowhere near as good as Soon I Will Be Invincible — in fact, I'll just say it: this book isn't any good at all. I've read worse, but I almost didn't finish it, which is a big deal for me. The premise of a super-hero who wants to retire is interesting, but I had some issues with the writing, both on a technical level and artistically. I remember groaning a lot and being annoyed at stupid turns of events or character actions.

News from Home: stories

by Sefi Atta

I don't remember being wowed by this book, but it's a solid collection of short stories about Nigerians, both at home and abroad. The author's prior book (her first novel?) won some sort of award. If you like to read contemporary fiction by non-American, non-British writers, this one's definitely worth a look.

Henry & Glenn Forever & Ever

by Tom Neeley & friends

The annotation I wrote for this book (in a list of books that originated as zines) might be my best annotation ever: "Like a metal-punk version of Mad About You, this collection lays bare the domestic life of an imaginary couple, who just happen to be rock gods."

I'd read several of the zines, but now I've finally read the whole amazing book. It's a mix of short graphic stories about the fictional relationship of the titular couple, Henry Rollins and Glenn Danzig. Being an "& friends" kind of thing, quality varies a bit, but overall it's very good. Humorous, obviously, and sometimes actually quite sexy. Hall & Oates make regular appearances as well. Lots of one-page portraits of the couple are interspersed, some in full color but mostly black and white.

Verdict: simply delightful. I almost want to own it, which is a very high bar for me.

How to Speak Brit: the quintessential guide to the King's English, Cockney slang, and other flummoxing British phrases

by C.J. Moore

This book was a disappointment. Not that it's bad, it just wasn't what I'd imagined it would be. I have Anglophile tendencies and occasionally aspire to incorporate more Britishisms in my vocabulary. I'd especially love to be facile with the Cockney rhyming slang, but usually I struggle to think of an example or explain how it works, let alone deploying it conversation or making up new rhymes on the fly. This very slim book isn't any sort of overview of British English, it's just a very selective alphabetical list of some Brit-speak with cheeky explanations. Fine for what it is, but don't get your hopes up.



 

Priceless Honey

by Shiuko Kano

A nice yaoi-ish collection of erotic manga by a great author, whose work I've praised here before. The stories are about young men in the twink age range, with various combinations. The centerpiece story has a high school janitor moonlighting as a gay escort to earn extra money for his demanding girlfriend. The stories are all inventive and nicely detailed, despite being short, and the naughty bits are pleasingly explicit (but also pixelated).

Luck in the Shadows

Stalking Darkness

Traitor's Moon

by Lynn Flewelling

Such sweet agony!!!! Reading the Nightrunner series is simultaneously thrilling and maddening. So much build up and so much action left until the last 50 pages, the plotting of the stories could drive one crazy. But that's the hook, isn't it — that slingshot ride, along with the two characters in whose lives I've become so invested. (Okay, maybe I'm  a little in love or lust with one or both of them.)

In some ways, the series is fairly typical fantasy stuff: magic people, not-magic people, in-between people; queens, kings, horses, ships; war, intrigue, enemies; the lovable rogue and his protégé; etc. Good world-building, as they say in the fantasy biz, along with intricate plots and discreet foreshadowing.

But this book also has a special appeal for me, one that I almost don't want to mention. Hints are dropped early on, but the super–slow-burning tension takes almost two whole books to ignite, in a tender moment so perfect I wept with joy (and posted on Facebook about it). In book three, the relationship is obviously passionate but always tasteful and never explicit.

On the one hand, I'm tempted to tear through the whole series; on the other, doing that might make me nuts. I just checked out the next book, but I'm hesitant to jump back into this world without a break. Also, there are now even more books in the series since I last looked: Shadow's Return (checked out today), The White Road, Casket of Souls, and Shards of Time.

The Prince's Boy

by Paul Bailey

A short and somewhat melancholy romance set in interwar Paris. A young Romanian man with literary aspirations is sent off to have a Bohemian summer. Instead of writing, he falls madly in love with an older man. Circumstances keep them apart for years, but ultimately they build a life together. (How lucky to have one's first sexual experience also be one's soulmate!) They live happily, more or less, but not ever after. This book is the young man, now grown, recording his mate's rags to riches story, and telling his own story in the process.

Well-written, not long, not sad enough to make you cry, erotically charged without being explicit.