Metropole

by Ferenc Karinthy

You know, I look at this blog sometimes and think, What the hell have I been reading? Sure, reading crap that's fun is, well, fun. But then I read something like this, and I remember that the world is full of amazing, high-quality, non-crap literature that also is fun to read. I also need to start reading more Russian and Eastern European stuff, and should read some more books from Europa Editions. I do have some Russian books on my to-read list, and at least one that's on my shelf right now, and I have at least two books published by Europa on my to-blog list. There are lots of new books I want to read, but it's so nice to be occasionally blown away by a "classic"; reading this made me feel the way I felt when I read Confessions of a Mask.

Anyway, Metropole is almost sci-fi, and it's about language, whether it's ever truly possible to communicate and/or to understand another person. The protagonist is trapped in an unfamiliar city, unsure how he came to be there, completely baffled by a language that both sounds and looks like gibberish, even to someone such as himself, a linguist fluent in six or seven languages and conversant with a great many more. Unable to have even a simple verbal exchange or to express himself in pantomime, he cycles through rage, despair, acceptance, determination, fear, loathing, ambition... while trying to escape from this city that seems never to end yet is paradoxically, impossibly crowded with unhelpful and indifferent gabbling swarms of people who, one begins to suspect, may not even be able to understand one another.

Words like Babel, Orwellian and Kafka-esque spring to mind too easily to convey the subtlety with which the author — a Hungarian linguist born in 1921 (the book was first published in 1970, I believe) — explores the essential role of language, both in the life of the individual and in the greater cultural milieu, and the aching human need to speak, to listen, to be heard. And the story also manages to be exciting and suspenseful, a mystery and a puzzle that will draw you in and keep you reading.

The Discovery of France: a historical geography from the Revolution to the First World War

by Graham Robb

This fascinating gem sat on my shelf for a very long time. Once I started reading, it was a long haul. It's not the sort of nonfiction that keeps one up reading in bed; rather, it's the kind that, while terribly interesting, will make one nod off on the couch. I still recommend highly, but the reader should be prepared and plan accordingly.

While a good hundred of the 450-odd pages are devoted to end notes, indices and such, the remaining 300 pages are dense enough with type and information to make up for it. On the one hand, The Discovery of France is academic in its level of detail and the amount of research it comprises, but it's not textbook-y or dry in its presentation and style. I was sort of reminded, in fact, of Alain de Botton (The Architecture of Happiness), who's so good at making the mundane into the transcendent (or simply revealing that is has been all along) and whose chapters nibble around the edges of his thesis instead of launching a systematic, hierarchical attack. While Robb isn't quite as lyrical as de Botton, he does have a knack for meaningful anecdotes and telling details. His narrative also meanders, eschewing strict chronology in favor of a thematic arrangement, painting a sort of Cubist collage instead of drafting a rigid outline or graph.

Many profundities lurk beneath the surface of this mostly droll-seeming tale of the formation of the nation of France out of so many thousands of regions, dialects and traditions: one can draw inferences about nationalism and colonialism, economic and linguistic hegemony and exploitation, the fragility of identity and the shifting, shimmering thing called "community." But Robb is just telling a story, largely without judgement or prejudice, leaving the debates and politics to others so inclined. The personal is political — by which is meant everything is political — but it's exhausting to be forever strident, righteous and globally aware. Taking time just to enjoy the scenery, to wander and wonder, is cleansing for the soul.

Blindness

by Jose Saramago

While I was reading this book, a friend picked it up and started reading one of the back-cover blurbs that compares it to the Bible in scope, magnitude, depth or some crap like that. Now, it's definitely an allegory, or you could call it a parable, but it's also a lot like a zombie movie, or any post-apocalyptic story. But then, I guess the Bible is sort of a zombie story too, or maybe Jesus was a vampire?

Anyway, it's a good book: gripping, entertaining, thoughtful and meaningful, a meditation on what it means to "see", literally and figuratively, to see when others cannot. Because the blindness is contagious, and the stricken are put in internment camps, the book also explores how people form groups, die or survive, and help or oppose or oppress one another in closed environments with limited resources.

I'm very curious about the movie version now, especially about how it portrays the blindness and how faithful it is to the book.

Catching Fire

by Suzanne Collins

Gaaaaaah!!! This book is sooo good, it almost hurts to read it, but you'll read it really quickly anyway. It hurts even more to tear oneself away or — quelle horreur — to finish it.

This sequel absolutely lives up to the promise of its predecessor, The Hunger Games. The best plot twist comes at the beginning; once you get half to three-quarters through, the ending won't come as a complete surprise, but that just makes the anticipation all the sweeter. Even so, I don't want to give away even one bit of the story.

My only complaint is that the protagonist, Katniss, is acting like a typical 16-year-old. But that's as it needs to be; as in the Harry Potter series, if she actually listened to the few trustworthy adults and stopped being so self-centered, it would be a pretty short story.

Me2

by M. Christian

If I didn't know Alyson Books is a real publisher, I'd've sworn this dreck is an instance of vanity publishing. I only read one chapter, and even that only because I was waiting for laundry or something. I almost stopped after one paragraph. In just a few pages, I found four or five really lame errors — not even typos, as they seem to have run spell-check at least, but those sad sort of writing and grammar errors from which spell-check cannot save you. Eye don't no wear this arthur learned to right, butt this mite bee the wurst book I ever almost red.

I think it's meant to be about body-snatchers or clones or something. Gay ones.

Flotsametrics and the Floating World: how one man's obsession with runaway sneakers and rubber ducks revolutionized ocean science

by Curtis Ebbesmeyer and and Eric Scigliano

This is an OK book, though it drifts a bit and the author has a couple of New-Agey spiritual moments. I would have preferred more science, but it's probably just the right amount of science for non-nerds. I wasn't terribly interested in the author's personal story, but maybe I was just frustrated with the amount of science. Really, to be honest, you could save yourself the trouble and just read this article from Harper's.

Lastly, this book is a tad depressing. The ocean is so full of garbage and microscopic particles of plastic, it's probably too late. We poisoned the earth without paying attention, and it might be irreversible no matter how much attention we pay now. If you're prone to ecological nightmares, read with caution.

Zines the fourth

Wow, been working on this one for a long time. Also have a bunch of books to catch up on, but I don't have any big projects brewing at the moment, so I hope to make some progress in the next two months. Thanks for your patience, and thanks for reading!

Harlot, RN, by Megan Honor
An interesting zine out of D.C. about what it's like being new at being a nurse, and struggling to balance the desire to care deeply and appropriately for patients (and to respect their autonomy and right to refuse care) against the exigencies of the workplace and the health care business model. Also touches on being queer at work, unionization, and race issues in the workplace.

Broken Hipster #2, by Emiko Badillo
Probably should have started with number one, but this volume happened to come across my desk. A well-written and unflinching look at the life of a younger person (twenty- or thirty-something) with kidney disease, the emotional and practical sides both. Looks as if a transplant is on the horizon, so I'll have to check out volume three.

Urinal Gum, vol. 1 & 3
"The stated purpose of this zine is to enhance others' lives through drivel," according to page 3 of the first volume. It's a total hodgepodge of gross and juvenile humor, and I freakin' love it! The edge of every page includes a bonus piece of "trivia." (Lies, all lies!) Check out the website.

Hey, 4-Eyes! #1, edited and published by Robyn Chapman
This is a real piece of work, in a good way. Top-notch quality materials and crafts-person-ship; a little pocket with a folding paper pair of horn-rim "glasses" (hey, they're paper); and interesting, informative, well-written content all about glasses, people who wear glasses, and the people who love people who wear glasses.
On a side note, this issue of Hey 4-Eyes also inclues a short comic by Alec Longstreth that includes one of the most brilliant visual solutions to expressing a complex idea that I've ever seen. To illustrate how a woman at a party is judging him and his glasses (which actually don't have lenses in them), Longstreth drew her with stare lines from her eyes toward himself and, in a thought bubble over her head, a tiny photo of him being inserted into a file marked "nerds." Just had to share that.

Russia, Georgia, and South Ossetia, by Maria Sputnik
Among the best nonfiction zines I've ever read. Informative, insightful, intelligent, a little bit playful, and not suffering from the unfortunately poor grammar that ruins some nonfic zines. And for once I actually feel as if I understand one of those "ethnic conflicts" in a part of the world that seems to have nothing but ethnic conflicts. You, too, can understand 21st century geopolitics!

Syndicate Product, Issue 12.0, May 2007, Year of the Pack Rat, by A.J. Michel
Nice compilation zine with people's stories about hoarding behavior. We all do it at one time or another, so it's nice to hear about other people's inability to throw away childhood toys, for example, or their propensity to pick up and keep all sort of odds and ends. On a completely personal note, I was thrilled that one submission from a guy who lives in Lutherville, Md., makes reference to a store called Two Guys, a sort of local off-brand Kmart or something, from the days before everything merged with everything, that I remember from my childhood.

Really Gay!, by Erinfection
Nevermind the author's name is a little bit icky sounding, this is an interesting zine created as a thesis project examining the role — the success and/or failure, really — of zines in forging a sense of community among otherwise isolated queer folk, and how the very notion of creating community (assuming zines or zinesters could or would do that) is somewhat at odds with the DIY ethos.

Famous Whales, by Erinfection
OK, on this one I totally didn't even think about the author's name. Kind of funny brief stories about famous and infamous whales, such as Shamu, Willy, Keiko... Too short though, could have used some more arcana, or expand the defintion of "whale" to bring in more and different stories, so maybe there'd be something I didn't already know.

How to Be a Good Library Patron; How to Be a Bad Library Patron, compiled by Jerianne Thompson
Like the state of Virginia, this zine is for lovers — of libraries, that is. Library workers especially, and anyone well-acquainted with their local public library, will enjoy this tiny collection of words and micro-comics addressing a variety of desireable and not so desireable behaviors to endear yourself to, or make an enemy of, library staff. Includes contributions from two of my all-time favorite zinesters, Androo Robinson (of Portland) and Kelly Froh (of Seattle).

Reincarnalators : a Sci-fi Homo-erotic Love Story that Bursts the Threshold of Time and Passion, by Taylor Grenfell, et al.
There isn't a lot to say that isn't already in the title, except to add that this heavily illustrated (though slightly different from a mini-comic) zine is freakin' awesome. With prehistoric female sluts reincarnated as gay lovers in Antarctica, how could it not be awesome? Really imaginative story, well written with good pics, all around high quality.

I Still Live: Biography of a Spiritualist, by Annie Murphy
Absolutely, hands-down, no doubt one of the most beautiful zines I've ever seen. Aside from the stunning black-and-white watercolor-ish (?) gorgeousness, it also is an extremely well-researched and fascinating biography of 19th century American spiritualist Achsa Sprague, who not only communicated with the spirit world but also rubbed elbows with some mighty famous people.

Last Legs, by J. Dives
I don't seem to remember much about "The Grandpa Issue" — but I know it was reasonably enjoyable. Two things about "The Diary Issue" impressed me enough that I made notes: there were pictures of Dylan and Brandon from Beverly Hills: 90210, and some of the misspellings, straight out of the author's teenage diary, were hilarious. Both of these are short but very nice.

Doris #25, Questions, by Cindy Crabb
It might not be fair to judge this long-running series by this issue, since it's a compilation of responses to questions submitted by readers during the many years the author has been publishing this much-loved perzine. I'm also working on knowing when to keep my mouth shut, so maybe I'll just say that, if I had to choose one word to describe this zine and its author, that word would be "fraught."

You Ruined Everything, by Greg Means
Created as part of an online "100 Themes" challenge, this sort-of mini-comic doesn't have a single narrative thread. The same two simply but uniquely drawn characters appear in each of the 100 illustrations, however, so there is a sense of continuity and a general drift of character development, as well as an exploration of the characters' intimate relationship with one another. Surprisingly complex, now I think about it, given the format.

Jin & Jam, no. 1, by Hellen Jo
Well-made mini-comic about feisty, funky Korean teens raising hell when their parents no doubt think they should be at school or in church. The story's a bit aimless, but it could go somewhere if the author takes it there. My affection for it is probably colored by my personal affection for a particular feisty, funky Korean I've known for 18 years.

600 Rubles, by Jennifer Manriquez
Cheerleading, drumlines and African American step-dancing have had their movies, their fish-out-of-water/against-the-odds/overcoming-prejudice/star-crossed-lovers tales of redemption, their moments in the spotlight. If anyone ever decides to give the same treatment to the hidden underbelly of high-stakes intercollegiate high-step dance teams, this zine would be a good place to start. The story is tragic, but somehow maintains a sense of humor at the surreality of it all. Who knew there were scholarships on the line, callous coaches and treacherous teammates hidden beneath the veneer of sequins and smiles?

Ochre Ellipse, by Jonas Madden-Connor
I guess I read the first volume. I don't remember that much about the story in this mini-comic, something about a guy who has a crush on a grocery store clerk, and they maybe go on a date, or maybe he just fantasizes or dreams the date? I do remember thinking it was really cool and unusual the way the word bubbles were angled along the same perspective lines as the background objects in the drawing. I'm kinda curious to see where this series is going... there's at least one more volume, maybe more than that.

Rabbit Shadows, by Jason Viola
A very interesting wordless comic that explores what it means to be an artist while critiquing the commercialization and commodification of the art market, in particular the tension between the pressure, on the one hand, to reproduce successful work — to the point that it's no longer successful in the marketplace — and the desire, on the other hand, to grow and develop as an artist. Or maybe I'm reading too much into it.

Destination D.I.Y. #3, by Julie Sabatier
A companion zine to the now defunct (I think) KBOO-FM radio program of the same name. Topics in this issue include home birth, home brewing and alternative funerals, but far and away the best part of this issue is the transcript of an oddly hilarious conversation the host had with the "artist" who chained little plastic horses to the the metal rings embedded in some sidewalk curbs a couple years ago. Podcasts of the show are, I believe, available at DestinationDIY.org.

My Date with Sam Adams: A Kiss and Yell Memoir, by Tod
Waited a long time to get a look at this zine, and I was a tad disappointed to learn that "Tod" is actually a female who went on a date with our illustrious mayor when he was quite a bit younger and still pretending to be hetero. Once I read it, though, that didn't matter; it's just a weird funny story, well-told, that happens to involve someone who happens to have become famous. (For the record, I would totally do — I mean, date — Sam in a heartbeat.)

Bicycle Propaganda, by Tom Lechner
Single-panel, wordless, very creative political cartoons in tune with bike-riding advocacy and activism. Maybe some day bikes will outnumber cars, but for the time being I'm still a whimp about biking in the rain and cold.

Dream Date, by Chelsea Martin
This author's zines are hard to get, but you can try ordering from her website. This is basically a list of "dream date" scenarios, but with a very sick and twisted (in a good, funny way) idea of romance. She also has a book, Everything Was Fine Until Whatever, which includes the text of her other zine, the one that made me fall in love with her, called I $ You, which is even sicker and funnier than this one. Absolutely, definitely not for the squeamish or easily-offended, but if you like dead baby jokes, give it a shot.

American Gun Culture Report, Issue #3, Summer 2008, edited by Ross Eliot
Now, for the most part I think guns are scary and bad, at least superficially, and I usually assume people who are really into guns are creepy and possibly crazy. On the other hand, when a friend of mine offered to let me shoot his handgun, I got excited and demanded to shoot at a silhouette of a person instead of a plain old circular target. From what I can tell based on reading one issue, AGCR does a good job of representing and exploring the views of regular people who own guns and have strong feelings about them but aren't Charlton Heston–worshipping 2nd Amendment whackos with Confederate flags on their trucks. And it might behoove you to try to understand these folks, since they could be your neighbors; if not, consider it a glimpse into an under-represented subculture that's very much part of American society.

Now We Are Friends, by Brodie Kelly
A jumbly yet well-rounded travelogue of sorts about the sights, sounds, smells and people encountered on a honeymoon trip to Argentina. Excellent interweaving of words and illustrations. Tiny and wonderful.

The Woodsmen, Winter 2005, by Justin Morrison
I once saw a bumpersticker that said "Earth First — we'll log the other planets later." Regardless of the current state of our forests and the "forest products industry," it's difficult to fathom the thinking of old-timey loggers who didn't think twice about cutting down huge, ancient trees that you'd think would leave most people awestruck. This zine, the result of research at the Oregon Historical Society, asks you to suspend your judgment of their motives or lack of environmental awareness so that you can try to appreciate the dangers they faced, the hardships they endured, and the enormity of their accomplishments (again, withholding value judgments). Hindsight is sort of a cliché, yet we frequently forget that we might not be here if it weren't for the mistakes of the past.

F-Bomb #3, July/August 2009, the Music Issue, edited by Christina Wheeler
Didn't really get into this Tacoma-based anthology, but it does have an interesting article about Youtube-ing that references a documentary about an incestuous clan of hillbillies. Comes with a CD, which is always a nice touch.

Seafood, by Josh Frankel
Another beautiful, evocative, wordless (OK, there is an epilogue) comic from author-illustrator Josh Frankel, this time following a yellowfin tuna in its natural environment and exploring the harsh realities of its very unnatural demise on its way to the supermarket shelf.

Bird Hurdler, various authors
Another nice Free Comics Day anthology from the folks at Tugboat Press/Sparkplug Comic Books/Teenage Dinosaur. My favorite entry is Lisa Eisenberg's story of a cat telling his cat buddies about his amazing Thanksgiving meal of warm turkey giblets.

I'm Not Your Steppin' Stone

by Shiuko Kano

I requested this yaoi manga via interlibrary loan. I didn't know much about it, but it's by the author of one of the best yaoi books I've ever read (and one of the first items I ever reviewed here on this blog), Play Boy Blues. I was a tiny bit disappointed, because it has that problem (maybe it's my problem?) of not always being totally clear about who's saying something. But the unusual plot and the steamy sex scenes more than make up for it!

A handsome (but kind of short) construction worker has a crush on a cute chubby girl, but her tall and brooding younger brother says she won't date an uneducated guy — then offers to tutor the blue-collar beau in exchange for... sex! At first it's just business, but after a while things aren't so simple: Is the "straight" construction worker starting to enjoy being dominated by a virile younger man, or is he still focused on the ultimate goal of getting the girl? Is the awkward but passionate younger brother really attracted to his tutee, or is it more about getting one over on his sister?

I recently bought the sequel/companion book Maybe I'm Your Steppin' Stone on a yaoi shopping spree in Japantown in San Francisco — only to come home and realize I could have gotten it for free at the library! Oh, well, I sure hope it's good. (And, BTW, when the heck will there be a sequel to Play Boy Blues?!)

Death in Spring

by Mercè Rodoreda

The first English translation of a novel by a Catalan author, Death in Spring had me really excited. In addition to the exoticism of Catalonia, the review I read made it sound pleasingly strange: an isolated village where people cling to bizarre customs and rituals without any longer understanding their origins or purposes — perhaps an allegory of the Franco regime's attempt to smother cultural diversity. (See also "Basques" and Picasso's Guernica.)

I haven't done a thorough search, but it's not immediately apparent when this book was written. The author lived from 1908 to 1983, and she published as early as the '30s and then in the '50s, '60s, and '70s. This title, however, was published posthumously, so I'm not really sure where to place it in relation to the historical development of magical realism.

And why, you ask, would I want to do that? The first section of the book is lush and poetic, the wondrous world through the eyes of a young narrator. I fell for the beautiful prose right away, and initially resisted the magical realism label, attributing the fabulousness (as in fables, not bling) to the child's-eye view. (Also, I wanted it to be more than just another Hispanophone-ish iteration of magical realism.) So when the narrator's father slices open a tree, peels back the bark, and allows the tree to swallow him alive, I still thought maybe it's just a kid's imagination. But then, when a village of adults not only believes this tale without hesitation but also re-opens the tree so they can pour rose-colored cement into the man's mouth to prevent his soul from escaping, I pretty much had to admit there's some magical realism going on.

As the book progresses through its four sections, the story becomes increasingly bleak and surreal, and eventually all but inscrutable. Ultimately, it's a story about death, about dying inside and still living, the killing of desire, the desire to be free from desire, the simple brutality of existence, of other people, of "saving" other people by killing their desires, the death of individuality, the death of hope.

When I'd only read the first section, I enthusiastically recommended the book to several people, but now I kinda wish I hadn't. I don't see it appealing to the ordinary recreational reader, but maybe if you're especially interested in the region or the genre, or if you extract a twisted pleasure from existentialist agitation.

Submarine

by Joe Dunthorne

I was going to start this post by listing all the other great books about teenage boys that I've read, but instead here's a link to all the ones on this blog labelled "boys".

A more precise comparison could be made to Black Swan Green or Vernon God Little, both of which, like Submarine, are not cataloged as young adult fiction at my library. In terms of books marketed to young adults, the color and charm of the protagonist's voice bring to mind The Black Book and Spud. It also made me think of a book I haven't written up yet, Hard Cash (first in a trilogy by Kate Cann, which got me totally turned on to British YA books).

Anyway... this is one of those books that makes you totally fall for the narrator, to the point where you don't know if you actually want to be him or just want to date him and/or be his best friend. (I sometimes feel as if I want to eat them, or hug them so tightly their bodies become fused with mine — but that's a different, troublesome, and probably Freudian story.) In Submarine, Oliver falls sort-of in love, loses his virginity, sort of saves his parents' marriage, probably learns some lessons, and basically just lives the tumultuous life of a precocious Welsh 15-year-old boy, and is utterly charming and funny about it.

The Last Unicorn: the lost version

by Peter S. Beagle

I've never read the book, but I have very fond memories of the animated movie The Last Unicorn. I saw it at an age when I loved — and I mean LOVED — unicorns. I was also starting to get an inkling that boys aren't supposed to like unicorns, a feeling exacerbated by the obvious femininity of this particular unicorn, but that extra frisson of guilt and shame only made me love the movie all the more.

So, imagine the jolt of electricity that shot up my spine when I saw this book, with the unicorn on the cover all black and gothic and macho looking! This "lost version" is just a fragment, a false start when the author originated the idea, and it's very different to the way the story ultimately turned out. There's a much clearer unicorn/nature vs. man/modernity dichotomy, which I don't remember from the movie, which seemed from the humans' clothing to be sort of medieval. It's good, and I enjoyed reading it, but I also see what the author means in the afterword when he says this version probably wouldn't have worked out in the long run. It's still worth reading, though, especially if you are or were into unicorns, or if you're a big fantasy geek.

Also, BTW, the unicorn is still a girl. I've recently assuaged my disappointment by purchasing a copy of Machoponi: A Prance with Death. I'll let you know how that works out....

Cooking with Surplus -n- Excess

by Sy Loady

I'm giving this zine it's own review because already in my head it's too long for a little blurb in a group review of zines, like I usually do.

Compiled here are tips on Dumpster diving and other ways of getting free food, including judging the edibility of found food, as well as cleaning and storing; instructions for making hobo stoves and other cooking setups and methods; ways to deal with large quantities of foods, how to make use of unusual food items, and what to do with food that needs to be consumed right away. You'll also find pages on worm bins, food poisoning, and government surplus foods. In this respect, the zine seems to take the Food Not Bombs-types and squatters and such as its audience.

The section that jazzed me the most, however, has a much broader appeal and is in fact the bulk of the zine. I enjoy cooking and tend to do it freestyle rather than strictly following recipes. I also consider myself an adventurous eater; I like vegetables and I'm not afraid of "weird" ones. But sometimes I find myself in the produce section at a loss for what to do with the stuff, especially since I'm probably trying to buy different things that are in season and/or local-ish instead of the usual suspects that you can get trucked up from the tropics year-round. The big middle section of this zine lists foods alphabetically and give ideas and inspiration on how to use them — best ways to cook them and other things they taste good with — rather than exact recipes, thus solving my quandary without stifling my creativity!

Last thing I want to mention is a very interesting short essay in here that could be construed as anti-vegan, BUT it really doesn't say no one should be vegan, it simply brings up some of the unfortunate things (such as cultural insensitivity and moral superiority) that sometimes coincide with veganism. I think it's quite brave of the author to raise these issues in this context, and I hope that people who read this essay really read it and really think about it instead of just blasting it as anti-vegan propaganda.

Dear American Airlines

by Jonathan Miles

About 180 pages, this is a great short book. About a month ago, I recommended it to a library patron looking for a good book. At the time, I hadn't actually read it yet, and I explained that my recommendation was based on the endorsement of another library staffer and the fact that I wanted to read it. I'm so glad it didn't turn out to be a dud, and I'll definitely recommend it in the future. It's maybe not Top-10-of-all-time material, but it's easily among the best I've read in the last year or two.

Stranded at O'Hare, due to cancellation of his connecting flight, our hero starts to write an irate letter demanding a refund. While this sets him up as a sort of anti-corporate John Q. Consumer, the letter quickly becomes very personal, heavy with the emotional freight of why he is traveling, weighed down by the baggage of many failed relationships. It's not about the money, as they say; neither is it about the flight or the airline or the airport, all of which are metaphors for this man's life trajectory. Although "life is a journey" is arguably one of the oldest and most basic metaphors known to humanity, this framing of it is fresh and modern.

While reading, I was put in mind of Mrs. Dalloway and the way Woolf and other writers have a knack for stretching a day or a few hours into an entire book while at the same time, by opening a window into the interior life of a character, condensing a whole life into a day or a few hours. In Dear AA, as the protagonist's stranding persists, the letter grows in length and approximates a slightly more organized, though still rambling plenty far afield, version of stream of consciousness.

Sound of My Voice, vol. 1

by Youka Nitta

I had this book on my shelf for a while and finally had to read it, kind of quickly, when it suddenly wouldn't renew and I started getting fines. When I realized it's by the same author as Embracing Love, I got excited. Ah, but too soon. Although conceptually similar, the storytelling here is weak and at times unclear, and the sexy bit seems tacked on as an afterthought and doesn't convey the real-feeling passion of the other series. A good idea poorly executed.

Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List

by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan

Rachel and David are the writing duo behind Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, now a major motion picture. A friend recently recommended the movie to me, since I heart one of the actors and I have soft spot for romantic comedies, but I'd always planned on reading Naomi and Ely because of the gay angle: Ely is Naomi's GBF (gay best friend) and vice versa, since they were in, like, kindergarten.

Well, in typical gay-YA fashion, romantic problems ensue, despite the no-kiss list that's meant to keep them out of exactly this situation. I don't know, overall it was kinda crap. Ely is not a complete cad, but he does pull the typical gay-guy "hooking up is more important than any friend" bullshit. Naomi, meanwhile, I found completely unsympathetic — both in the sense that I didn't like her at all, and also in the sense that she's completely narcissistic and in fact probably has borderline personality disorder. The book isn't a complete disaster, I suppose, but I did find myself grateful for its brevity.

One interesting side note, the characters are college sophomores rather than high schoolers.

The London Scene: six essays on London life

by Virginia Woolf

Oh, how I love Virginia Woolf! Her command of the language, her intimacy with the mind and soul, her sense of the infinite and awareness of the minute. If you like Woolf, you'll enjoy this book; only you might be disappointed by its brevity. If, like me, you're an Anglophile, you'll treasure this book and want to have it forever.

Knowing of her somewhat tortured (and also privileged) personal life, it's a bit odd to imagine her writing a series of essays for the British edition of Good Housekeeping magazine. To compensate, I'd like to imagine the magazine then didn't have so many articles about fad diets and recipes for Velveeta pie, but it was in fact a time when many people worshiped the newfangled and it seemed as if science and commerce might solve all the problems of living; yet I need to believe that it was a time when newness still felt new, when the idea of newness hadn't permeated the culture to the point of meaninglessness.

Anyway, this slim volume is a pleasure, both mental and tactile, to read. (I had only to read a few pages to overcome my disappointment at the uncut page edges.) Who better than Virginia Woolf to capture the essence, the texture of a place, a moment, a life in a dozen small pages?

PS, skip the introduction, it's totally unnecessary.

Traffic: why we drive the way we do (and what it says about us)

by Tom Vanderbilt

The whole time I was reading this book, I was imagining an author who looks like Ralph Nader: older, suited, unattractive but noticeably intelligent. Just before turning it in, I flipped to the back cover flap, and — hello! Pretty darn foxy.

Anyway, it's a good book. Not quite gripping, but interesting and easy to read. The author occasionally flirts with getting bogged down in numbers, but pulls back at the last instant. Like foreplay, or the opposite maybe.

The book delves into the biology and psychology of driving humans. For example, has it ever occurred to you that millions of years of evolution have given us brains and eyes designed for movement and social interaction over short distances and very low speeds? In less than a hundred years, we've invented technology that puts us in situations way beyond anything for which our biology has prepared us. Plus there's the psychology that makes us tend to obey some laws and not others, which varies by culture and economics.

It also gives a good picture of the physics of traffic and congestion, and why human attempts to explain or control or avoid same are sometimes dead wrong, and why some solutions work while others don't. Not to mention the risk management side of things, in which we are often mistaken in our assessments of danger, frequently afraid of the wrong things, and pretty much playing roulette most of the time anyway.

I'd like to say I've learned something or changed my driving behavior as a result of reading this book, but that would be an overstatement. I certainly have an expanded awareness of the pertinent issues, but we're all at the mercy of road design and, worst of all, other drivers. Just because I now know whether it's theoretically better to merge early or late when one of the lanes is ending (its depends on the level of congestion, FYI), doesn't necessarily mean I'll make the right choice, because in fact (as opposed to theory) what's best for the individual isn't always what's best for the aggregate, and either way the correctness of my choice is modified and mitigated by the simultaneous choices of everyone else on the road.

The Lonely Empress: a biography of Elizabeth of Austria

by Joan Haslip

The disintegration of the Holy Roman Empire up through World War I is a long, bizarre, twisted, sordid, unbelievably complex saga about which I wish I knew more. This book has the pre-WWI Austro-Hungarian Empire and the volatile ethno-political morass that was Europe as a shimmering backdrop, but except for a few important names and the general tenor of relations among the grossly intermarried aristocratic families, it didn't teach me much.

But that's totally OK. I knew from reading a review that this book is light on the history and very tightly focused on the personal life and personality of Elizabeth Hapsburg (née Wittelsbach), fascinating and complex all unto herself. It's written in an almost gossipy tone, and it's practically a real life fin de siècle romance novel. It really is quite exciting and fun to read, even though it could be (falsely) accused of being insubstantial. Honestly, I kept waiting for the story to start to drag, or become repetitive or stupid, somewhere in the 440 pages, but it didn't. It helps that each chapter is only 10 to 15 pages, so the reader has a say in the pace of reading, but ultimately it's all down to the enigmatic character's ability to hold one's attention. Her Majesty still has the power to enchant.

Phaidon Atlas of 21st Century World Architecture

At 20.8 x 16.3 x 3.7 inches and a whopping 16.3 lbs., this is surely the biggest book I've ever read. Not that I read everything. I did look at all the pictures, but some of the buildings were kinda boring, so I didn't read about them. And one can read only so many of those highly stylized descriptions of architecture before beginning to feel a bit batty. (I really feel sorry for the people who have to write them; how many synonyms for façade do you know?)

Some of the buildings were crazy-cool, some were meh,— particularly toward the end of the thousand pages, when the novelty of a cantilevered rectangle had worn off. Some of the buildings made me think, "You know, just because you can, doesn't mean you have to." In a few cases, I found myself really wanting more or different photos to get a better overall picture of a particular building, but for the most part each structure got half a page and three or four images. At one point, I started hatching a plan for a worldwide tour of amazing buildings. (I am accepting donated airlines miles; my preference is for Delta SkyMiles.)

I have a serious boner for architecture, and I got bored after a while, so I'd only recommend this book to a hardcore enthusiast.

Bretz's Flood: the remarkable story of a rebel geologist and the world's greatest flood

by John Soennichsen

Just in case you haven't yet realized what a nerd I am, here's a fascinating book about geology! And not just about geology, but about the personal story of a geologist who made a major discovery in the eastern Washington scablands — but no one believed him, so he had to defend his theory alone for many years before his findings finally were accepted by his peers.

I don't know how to explain it, but this is a really good book: enjoyable, informative, even poignant. If you scoff at the very idea that a book about rocks-dorks could ever be a good read, nothing I say will convince you. If, on the other hand, you know me or have read enough of my blog to have a sense of me as a critic, you'll just have to believe me.

Really, though, this book is written in a way that makes it accessible and interesting to anyone who's ever looked out the car window on I-90 (or any number of highways) and thought, "damn, that's a cool-looking mountain/canyon/coulee/alluvial fan/butte/glacier/etc." If you've ever taken an intro to geology (aka "rocks for jocks") class in college, or if you've seen the megafloods special on Discovery Channel, you might already know a thing or two about ginormous Lake Missoula and you might find this book even more enjoyable. I also think this would a fun book to read on a road trip up through the Spokane area (on the way to Montana or Yellowstone or something).