Life and Fate

by Vasily Grossman

Long story short, this is the World War II version of War and Peace. It's a sweeping narrative following the fortunes — personal, political, military — of an extended family during the battle for Stalingrad (though most of them aren't actually in Stalingrad at the time); it's 870 pages, plus eight pages of character names (not even including the many nicknames Russians use).

It's also a really fantastic book, well worth reading. Special interest in Russian lit is not required, but it would help. Also not for the faint-hearted; you'll be mired in the tragedy of war, the tragedy of the human condition, the tragedy — and tragic ironies — of post-revolutionary Russia. (An example of the latter: "The soul of wartime Stalingrad was freedom. ... Here, ten years later, was constructed a vast dam, one of the largest hydro-electric power stations in the world — the product of the forced labour of thousands of prisoners.")

On top of all that tragedy, I found other reasons to almost cry. (I seem to be almost crying more often as I get older. I get all verklempt every time I think about Jimmy Carter.) This book is about a war in the '40s, was written in the '50s and published in the U.S. in the '80s, and the world is still effed up in the same exact ways. I know I shouldn't find that surprising, yet somehow it's devastating. Won't we ever learn?

Cassandra French's Finishing School for Boys

by Eric Garcia

This is one that I read ages ago, and I've selected it as my first "blast from the past" review because it's also one of the suggestions I came up with the other day when a patron asked for fun, light reading and for the first time I ACTUALLY USED MY BLOG AS A READERS ADVISORY TOOL!!!!!!!

Anyway, it's absolute fluff — and absolutely delicious. It's a bonbon of a book in which our protagonist, frustrated with dating and disappointed yet again by a man, refuses to roll over and take it like a woman. Instead she ties him up in her basement and begins training him to become a better man, the kind of man a modern young(-ish) woman would be proud to date, perhaps even marry. As you might imagine, hilarity ensues.

It's chick lit — written by a man. It's a beach book — although I cannot condone reading in the presence of large amounts of sand and/or water.

Dear Myself

by Eiki Eiki

What a disappointment. A great idea that didn't deliver. Teenage boy loses two years of memories (car accident gave him amnesia, but when the amnesia went away he forgot what happened during the years he had amnesia) and has to come to terms with the gay relationship he began during the amnesia years, with the help of his precocious younger sister and a letter (hence the title) that he wrote to himself before regaining/losing his memory. Not really cute or sweet, not sexy, and I read the whole thing in about half and hour.

Doing Our Own Thing: the degradation of language and music and why we should, like, care

by John McWhorter

First of all, I didn't finish this book. I didn't even get to the part about music. I first noticed this book on the shelf when I started working at the library six and a half years ago, but I didn't check it out until about a year and a half ago. Then it sat on my shelf, getting renewed again and again, for almost a year before I actually picked it up and started to read it.

I've been accused of being a grammar geek, a purist, too conservative when it comes to language — and worse. But I'm really not as conservative as some have made me out to be; I'm more than willing to allow for casual usage, new terminology, and the like. What I cannot abide are changes in language that are nothing more than accommodations of lazy, careless, sloppy usage. Yes, rules are made to be broken, but one ought to know the rules first.

That said, I'm absolutely thrilled by this book. The author is not insisting on correct grammar at all times; indeed, he has many positive things to say about the richness and usefulness of casual expression. The point of the book is that we're losing out when we fail to take advantage, in appropriate situations, of the rhetorical power of formal speaking.

A perfect example is President George W. Bush, whose choppy sound-bite style of speaking actually appeals to many people, in part because it doesn't sound like a speech; it sounds like he's just talking. On the other hand we have the endangered breed of speakers, such as Al Gore, whose speeches are more like written words read aloud (which they essentially are) and therefore can use structures, styles, and rhetorical techniques that are difficult to employ spontaneously.

Interestingly, and somewhat surprisingly, this dumbing-down is a very recent trend. Used to be that people of all education levels could appreciate and understand oratory in a style that seems to most people today to be old-fashioned, baroque, snobbish, brainy, etc.

Now, I really need to just wrap this up. It took me forever to read the book, and I didn't even finish, and somehow I've gotten bogged down in writing this. I haven't been adding to my blog nearly as much as I'd like, so I need to move on!

Vernon God Little

by D.B.C. Pierre

This is another one of those books that I passed up when I first heard about it. Reviews were pretty good but not raving, and the whole school shooting theme turned me off. Then I read another review, where the reviewer decided that instead of writing about his top ten of 2006, he'd rather talk about this book, which was published in 2003.

I wish I had saved the link to that review, because what hooked me was the description of the protagonist's unique voice. Books in which the hero is of a certain age inevitably invite comparisons to Catcher in the Rye; but where Catcher is all angst and omphaloskepsis, Vernon God Little is satire at it's best: at once hysterically funny and deeply philosophical in its critique of the "reality show" that passes for culture in the '00s. Consumerism, therapy, consumerism as therapy; media, celebrity, and "info-tainment"; fatness, fast food, and irritable bowel syndrome; porn, perversion, and punishment — nothing escapes the searing sarcasm of a young man world-weary and wise before his time and on the run from inept law enforcement and the court of popular opinion.

There were so many quotes I wanted to use here as an example of the character's voice, or just to keep for posterity, but I was reading the book poolside with a pina colada in one hand, and I absolutely abhor dog-earing, so I was only able to mark one:

"There's the learning, O Partner: that you're cursed when you realize true things, because then you can't act with the full confidence of dumbness anymore."

Pithy, man, pithy.

P.S., I've always thought Holden Caulfield is a whiny bitch.

Don't Worry Mama

by Narise Konohara

As I did in one of my earliest posts, also for a yaoi book, I'll let the book speak for itself. From the back cover:

"Hey, I'm not a chubby chaser." His head was filled with dangerous thoughts. Was he insane? Who did he think this man was? This was Imakura. The obese monster Imakura. How could he even think about lusting after him?

How can you not read a book with that on the cover? I enjoyed this book very much — which is saying quite a bit, really, since most of the time I was reading it I was gravely ill. (Alright, maybe not gravely, but it certainly felt grave; I did hallucinate, and I did wonder if I were dying.) In any case, the gripping storyline and the realistic portrayal of emotions certainly took my mind off the pain and dizziness.

Since this is a novel with some illustrations (as opposed to an actual graphic novel) it's not as sexually explicit as some other yaoi. On the other hand, it spells things out quite a bit more than Only the Ring Finger Knows, and the very last illustration is more risque than it appears at first glance. Guess that's why the Ring Finger series is cataloged as young adult fiction and this one's adult fiction.

Black Swan Green

by David Mitchell

Mitchell is a freakin' genius. His last book before this one was Cloud Atlas, which is firmly in my Top 10 Best Books Ever. Critics gushed over it too, and it was a finalist for the prestigious Booker Prize.

This, his latest, did not fare so well with the reviewers. Not one of the reviews I read, however, actually reviewed the book on its own merits. The critics seemed blinded by disappointment that Black Swan Green isn't as bold and complex and breathtaking as Cloud Atlas — which really surprised me. Normally it's the public who feel betrayed when an artist doesn't copy himself. Usually the critics have enough experience to realize that artists must be allowed to grow and experiment and change. I guess they were annoyed he hadn't already done his compulsory semi-autobiographical, first-person-narrative coming of age novel. (Every novelist is allowed one, but most get it out of the way earlier in their careers.)

In any case, Black Swan Green is a charming and funny tale of boyhood adventures and travails, navigating social hierarchies and familial decay. It's easy and comfortable to slip into the protagonist's world, which is, in a way, simpler than Mitchell's other work, but possesses a subtlety and intricacy of its own — a different, more intimate type of complexity. I really enjoyed reading it, and I laughed out loud several times. It's sort of a "beach book" for those who normally disdain such things, and accessible enough to be enjoyed by teens.

[Disclaimer: I am an Anglophile, which no doubt contributed to my enjoyment of this book. In fact, it inspired one of my new year's resolutions: to incorporate more Britishisms into my speech. Cheers, then!]

Love, Football, and Other Contact Sports

by Alden R. Carter

A fun series of interconnected stories centering around members of a high school football team and their girlfriends, exes, and admirers. Narrators' voices are convincing, and the variety of protagonists ensures there's something for just about everyone. Nothing really about which to wax poetic, but it's a good, solid young adult book with boy appeal that doesn't take long to read. (It looks thicker than some YA books, but it reads quickly.) You could recommend this book to someone who likes Chris Crutcher, or who's outgrown Matt Christopher.

Letter to a Christian Nation

by Sam Harris

This is the author's follow-up to, and response to critics of, The End of Faith. (See my earlier post for that highly-recommended book.) As such, it'll make a lot more sense if you read the first one first; otherwise, the author's arguments may seem flimsier or less clear than they really are.
New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof has recently written about a phenomenon he calls "irreligious intolerance." He thinks (vocal) atheists are being — gasp! — mean to believers by disrespecting their beliefs. Which begs the question(s): Should we tolerate other irrational beliefs? Would it be considered mean, or is it ultimately an act of kindness and respect to tell an adult that Santa Claus is not real? Are we underestimating the intelligence and/or sanity of the faithful by shielding them, through "tolerance," from a rational critique of their irrational behavior?

Our Undemocratic Constitution: Where the Constitution Goes Wrong (and How We the People Can Correct It)

by Sanford Levinson

You don't have to tell me the Constitution is screwy, but it doesn't hurt to brush up on the details. (And even if you think you know what's wrong with the Constitution, you'll find some new fuel for your fire.)

Probably the most important effed-up thing about our Constitution is voting inequality that results from the electoral college method of electing the president, and from the fact that each state gets two senators regardless of population. (The two are related, in fact.) California, for example, is home to almost 40 million people who share only two votes in the Senate, while Wyoming's two senators represent barely half a million people. That's just the tip of the iceberg, of course, as the effects are quite far-reaching, and sometimes unexpected. (Or should I say unsuspected?)

The author (who's quite fond of the word indefensible) says we should fix our Constitution by convening a constitutional convention to re-write it. While he's very convincing as to what's wrong, he left me about a million miles away from being convinced that a convention is a good idea. I just don't have enough faith in my fellow Americans, and I'm terrified of the things that might become part of a new constitution. (For starters, as a gay person, I really don't feel like putting my civil rights on the table just to open a debate about proportional representation in the legislative branch.) Call me Madisonian, call me Hamiltonian — heck, call me a monarchist — I don't believe the sort of people who are short-sighted enough to shop at Wal-mart will suddenly, with the entire Constitution up for grabs, become far-sighted or reasonable enough to do the right thing.

Fish: a Memoir of a Boy in a Man's Prison

by T. J. Parsell

Man, I tore through this book. It's an absolutely gripping, tense, heartbreaking story that ultimately brought me to tears — which is saying a lot, as I haven't cried more than 10 times since I was a kid.

It would be hard enough to come to terms with being gay as a teen in a working-class Midwest town in the '70s, totally cut off from the emerging gay culture in larger cities. So if you did some stupid shit and got busted by the cops, then did something really stupid and got caught again and wound up in prison at the age of 17, imagine how hard it would be then to come to terms with your homosexuality even while being raped and forced into sexual relationships not of your choosing — relationships that, given the possibilities, become a source of protection and, perversely, of a kind of comfort and a twisted sort of affection.

In recent years, rape as a war crime has gotten more attention in the press. Probably not many people have given much thought, however, to the sexual violence perpetrated against incarcerated men and young men (or women or children in prison or prison-like situations, for that matter). Even sadder, some people might not care if it were pointed out to them; they might say the victims deserve it for doing whatever they did to get into prison in the first place. But it doesn't require a lot of compassion to realize that no one deserves to be raped, ever.

In the epilogue the author reprints a letter he wrote, many years after leaving prison, to a man with whom he'd had an almost healthy relationship while incarcerated, and the letter he received in return from this man, who was now back in prison on a parole violation after being out only a few years. By the time I finished reading these two letters, tears were streaming down my face.

Summary: a great book I'd recommend to just about anyone (not kids, obviously), and one I can see myself reading again someday.

Molecular Gastronomy: Exploring the Science of Flavor

by Hervé This

This book sounds like such a good idea: short chapters — vignettes, if you will — detailing the physical and chemical processes involved in food preparation and preservation, and the biological and chemical mechanisms of taste and flavor.

There's a problem, however. Upon seeing the chapter title "Hard-boiled Eggs," a reasonable person might expect to find out how to make the perfect hard-boiled (or soft-boiled) egg, right? No such luck. What you do get is information about how the different parts of the egg are made of different proteins that solidify at different temperatures, and therefore a framework of sorts for figuring out on your own by experiment or deduction how to make the perfect hard- or soft-boiled egg. If you're looking for scientifically tested and perfected recipes, you won't find them here. (But you will learn what you need to know to perfect some recipes yourself, which I guess is how it's meant to be.)

About a quarter of the way through, I started skimming, and before I knew it I had skimmed my way right to the end. It's not a bad book. It's really quite interesting, just not what I wanted it to be.

Gender Blender

by Blake Nelson

This recycled plot is almost as old as Jodie Foster. (Actually, it's probably as old as the oldest mythology and folklore, I'm just trying to be funny.)

Anyway, it's more or less Freaky Friday meets Brady Bunch in Hawaii, with a cursed Native American artifact and Tom and Emma — sixth-graders, neighbors, pre-puberty best friends — switching bodies and learning lessons about the other gender. It seemed really derivative to me, but it might not come off that way for Generation Z-ers who aren't up on the classics. Also, there's some almost-local appeal because it takes place in Seattle.

In conclusion, it's almost worth reading just for the scenes when Emma-in-Tom's-body wakes up with morning wood, and when she threatens to pee on older boys who are trying to invade the tree house.

The Amazing Life of Birds (the twenty-day puberty journal of Duane Homer Leech)

as discovered by Gary Paulsen

How could I resist a book with the word puberty in the title?

It also has a really well-designed jacket. The inside, however, was a disappointment. Far from being "discovered by" the renowned children's/young adult author, it's all too obviously written by an old man trying — and failing — to write in the voice of a 12-year-old. At least it's short.

This book is cataloged as young adult fiction, probably because of the subject matter, but it could easily be juvenile. (Not in the sense that I'm juvenile for laughing when someone says poop.) Even though I didn't especially care for the writing, this might be a good recommendation for a boy just beginning puberty or a slightly older teen who needs a quick read.

The Story of Stone

by N.M. Browne

I had this book checked out from the library for a very long time before I finally read it. Would that I had waited forever! (OK, it wasn't terrible, just not thrilling.)

Thematically, with its archaeology/anthropology, exploration of class and gender issues, and the whole mankind vs. nature thing, it's suggestive of the work of Ursula Le Guin with hints of Princess Mononoke. The writing was decent, but the parallel storylines were uneven to the point that I considered skipping some of the "present day" sections. Other than that, I'm not sure where else the book went wrong. Maybe it's just too derivative; it's kind of a rip off of Enchantress from the Stars. But now I think about it, the flashback parts were pretty awesome — almost as awesome as Ursula — so I'll give it half a thumb up and recommend it for those who are heavily into soft-science sci-fi.

Special Topics in Calamity Physics

by Marisha Pessl

Imagine if The Secret History were written by John Irving, and you've got a bit of an idea.

Perhaps a reflection of the book itself, the reviews were all over the place; I wasn't sold on reading it until after the third review I saw. (Plus, when confronted by a young author's first novel that is getting lots of press, there's that feeling, sort of the opposite of Schadenfreude*, best summed up by a quip attributed to Gore Vidal: "Whenever a friend of mine succeeds, a little something in me dies.")

So then the book shows up, and it's HUGE, and there's a waiting list, so I won't be able to renew it. With trepidation, I plunge in — hey, the water's fine! Despite the term-paper-like parenthetical references, which I'd expected to be annoying, it's breezy reading with a compelling story and a protagonist whose appeal somehow outshines her dad obsession and adolescent social ineptitude. (Or maybe I just like her because I'm a nerd too.)

I also had the good (mis)fortune to be a bit under the weather on a rainy weekend, which allowed me to immerse myself in the book, reading for hours at a stretch. I never lost the thread, my attention never wavered, and I managed to get in a pretty good guess at what the ending would be; still, the finale is so twisty, my prescience didn't spoil it. Either way, it was good preparation for the Final Exam, in which the reader is invited to draw conclusions and theorize about what really happened in the book.

*Some claim the opposite of Schadenfreude is mudita, a Buddhist concept of sympathetic joy or pleasure in another's success; but if Schadenfreude is joy in the misfortunes of others, its true opposite is sadness in the good fortunes or success of others, which has been translated variously as Erfolgtraurigkeit, Erfolgstraurigkeit, and Glückschmerz. Anyone else have a word for this?

Hold on Tight: an Insiders Novel

by J. Minter

So this book, the whole series, is ridiculous — and I love it. Five high school guys in Manhattan, all obscenely wealthy and painfully gorgeous, and they have problems too, just like you and me. How adorable is that?

Actually, it's just terrible. Note to the author: If your character wants to find a cause, and you decide his cause is going to be penguins, you might want to do a wee bit of research and find out that penguins do not live in Alaska.

But who cares, right? It only takes a couple of hours to read one of these books, so it's easy to overlook the fact that the author and publisher spent about the same amount of time on it. In fact, the pulp factor is a big part of the appeal. It's trashy. It's hedonistic. It's the world according to teens.

Pass It On, the second book in the series, is better than this one. I haven't read the other four.

The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason

by Sam Harris

This is the most important book I have ever read. This is a book I am actually going to buy. (I've bought only two or three books since I started working at the library six years ago.) I cannot say enough good things about this book — although reading it was a bit unsettling, and despite the fact that some people will be upset or offended by the book and what I have to say about it.

In a nutshell: religious faith, in addition to being entirely irrational and obviously unjustified, has been and is the source of many bad and scary things in the world (the Inquisition, suicide bombing, &c.); given the technology available today and the current strife among the world's major faiths, religious belief has the potential to destroy the world as we know it and perhaps put an end to mankind altogether. We need to stop constructing our lives around 2,000-year-old fairy tales and stop teaching our children to mimic the same absurdity. We need to agree on a reasoned basis for ethical and harmonious living with one another that does not resort to a fictitious supreme being.

And on and on — much more eloquently, of course. This is all mostly stuff I know already, but it can be an eye-opener when it's laid out in front of you all at once. The biggest lesson I took from The End of Faith is that I am not obliged to "respect" or "tolerate" anyone's ridiculous religious beliefs. (We don't "accept" alternative beliefs about algebra or traffic laws, do we?) In fact, if I have any obligation it is that of a rational person to point out the error of religious belief. (No can do at work, of course, though I wonder if I could get away with saying, "Sure, I can show you where the mythology books are.")

On a completely different topic, the author, Sam Harris, is hot. (And, no, I'm not mixing him up with the eponymous Broadway actor. Check out this photo of the author.)

Jesus and the Shamanic Tradition of Same-Sex Love

by Will Roscoe

This book was stupid. I didn't read the whole thing. Jesus, schmezus. Cool cover, tho.

Book meme

I saw this on someone else's blog and thought I'd give it a try. If you have a blog, you should do it too. That is, after all, the point of a meme.

A book that changed my life:
The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason made me realize that I have an ethical obligation to point out to people that their religious faith is foolish and dangerous.

A book I’ve read more than once:
The Swiss Family Robinson, when I was in middle school or thereabouts.

A book I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island:
The Swiss Family Robinson, so I could figure out how to stay alive.

A book that made me laugh:
Real Ultimate Power: the Official Ninja Book — see my recent blog entry on this book.

A book that I wish I had written:
Lunar Park or Cloud Atlas: a Novel; both are amazingly well-written, imaginative, and deep.

A book that I wish had never been written:
The Bible and all its sources, the Koran, etc.

A book I’ve been meaning to read:
Ah, there are so many; I'll go with Visual Explanations: Images and Quantities, Evidence and Narrative, by the author of "The Cognitive Style of PowerPoint."

I’m currently reading:
Hold on Tight: an Insiders Novel, which is ridiculous teen fluff, but I swear I'm going to read something serious next.