The Month in Review

Oops...

This post nearly got away from me.

It would seem that I read all of three books this month which is at least two more than I can remember.  Short story collections by certain authors always hold such a powerful allure over me but it seems no matter when I get around to reading them that they always go by slowly with no regard to quality.  'The Matter of Seggri' from The Birthday of the World and other Stories by Ursula K Le Guin was certainly the best thing I read in October.  Werewolves in Their Youth by Michael Chabon and Fevre Dream by George Martin were both very good as well.

How do you like those three for reading variety?

I'm halfway through John Siddique's book of poetry Full Blood but other than that I've no idea what else I'll get through this month.

The National Book of the year award is going to be given out in a few days and while I usually read at least one from the list every read in a vain effort to keep a finger on the pulse of contemporary fiction it ain't gonna happen this year.  Tenth of December by George Saunders and Far Far Away by Tom McNeil were the two that caught my eye from the list.  I'll get to them eventually.  Of the others listed I've heard of Two Boys Kissing if only because I'm familiar with David Levithan so I'll probably get to it some time too.

In other 'book prize' news, I may also check out The Testament of Mary if only because it's so short and the premise is unique to say the least.  I've tried Toibin before and he wasn't for me, but I'm willing to give anyone a second shot.

I'm sure there is much more going on but I can't recall it now.  More later.    

The Birthday of the World and Other Stories by Ursula K. Le Guin

I really wanted to start this review off by saying, 'The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is all about sex.'  In the broadest sense it's still true to say as much but it is equally inaccurate to say as the word sex can mean so many things.  So… The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is mostly all about sex.  Now, I'll try to clarify and define a word that has such great surface level transparency.    

Many of the stories in this collection read like narrative anthropological studies written by one not from the society being discussed.  The stories involve unique interactions between men and women and are usually observed by a foreigner. 

The strangest concept for me to wrap my head around was 'sedoretu' a marriage involving four people: one pair of men and one of women, where homo and heterosexual relationships are the norm.  The rules that govern these marriages as laid out in 'Unchosen Love' and 'Mountain Ways' were far more difficult to understand than the pairing of men and women.  Ultimately the concept was so well developed as to detract from the stories being told.  Who can have sex with whom and why, when, and why one person of the four will always be left out from having sex with one other weren't as interesting to me as the narrative that could have been told.  Perhaps as the concept is so foreign Le Guin wanted to be sure to establish clarity.  If so she succeeded, only at the expense of the narrative.  At times these two stories felt like reading rules or law more than a story.  

'Coming of Age in Karhide' was about the first sexual experience of a hermaphroditic person or perhaps 'gender neutral' is more accurate seeing as those on Karhide can choose and morph gender.  This story in particular presented it's ideas with no judging or favoritism.  It was fascinating and addicting in a sensual way that was very hard to describe as I can't exactly say what I was attracted to.  

The title story was nothing spectacular or original, but it had all the good familiar elements and was done extremely well.  A very primitive people on a very sheltered planet believe that God is a man and a woman; brother and sister and that only their hereditary line can perpetuate the lineage of God.  Such a belief is fraught with difficulties particularly when generations have passed and God has trouble reproducing.  A new God is crowned when outsiders arrive at the same time a usurper from within claims to be God.  This story was fun to read and very well done but not the highlight of the collection and probably the least in terms of dealing with sex.

'The Matter of Seggri' isn't merely a good story or the primary reason to buy this book; it's the kind of story that gets you thinking, makes you pause in your reading and leads you to ask questions not only about a fictional world and it's rules that Le Guin has created, but it also makes you do the same about our world that we live in.  

There is a complete segregation of the sexes on Seggri and a very large gender imbalance that heavily favors women.  Boys, being so rare, are prized family jewels until the age of eleven when they are sent off to live in the men's only citadels.  There, they further their status as trophies and seek glory in a dangerous and often gory sport, learn to become phenomenal dancers, and most importantly how to take care of bedroom matters.  Concepts as these are what makes men men on Seggri.  Women do everything else: anything that could be construed as work, business, or an enterprise beyond entertainment is solely relegated for women.  Men remain uneducated and ignorant of everything; they are prizes who develop a reputation and are sold nightly to women who have saved long, hard-earned money for a night of pleasure, or to conceive a child.  

Homosexuality is normal on Seggri in large part due to the seclusion of the men.  While it is seen as normal among the women and usually leads to marriage there are factions for and against it among the men even if both sides practice it.  It's the presentation of this story that makes it work as well as it does: the view from multiple outsiders trying to understand a bizarre foreign culture.  There are multiple reports about life on Seggri in this story; each gives enough to develop its' idea and collectively they paint a broad, detailed picture that indulges the imagination in the most realistic of ways.  Le Guin could set many a story or novel on Seggri.  This is not a happy story.  It's brutal, blunt and lacking anything that resembles sentiment.  It's disturbing and that is why it works.  

This collection isn't all about sex.  It's about gender, identity, and what intercourse means to an individual or to a society.  Not all the stories hit the mark (the closing story 'Paradises Lost' felt particularly cumbersome) but there are a few of those rare wonderful stories--of any length--that make you want to run out and tell people about what you're reading.  Those are the ones I've talked about here.  Now go read them for yourself and see why I feel as I do.   

Werewolves in Their Youth by Michael Chabon

I have to admit to being an unabashed fan of Michael Chabon.  Who else could write 'Jews with Swords' or 'The Yiddish Policeman's Union'?  Even with I read 'Summerland,' which was probably my least favorite of his novels that I've come across, there was still a strong feeling that no one else cold have written that particular story.  (And really, how else does one explain to a child the inherent evil of the American League's designated hitter?)  Above all else, Chabon has style all his own.

That sense of style is showcased rarely in Werewolves in their Youth, fleetingly displayed and left undeveloped in some places, and--to shocking affect--forsaken in at least one story.  There are very few stories here that seem obviously written by Chabon.  Apparently he had to develop into the writer he is and not everything comes out to be a stunning masterpiece.  And to be absolutely honest, I didn't know that.  

"I had known him as a bulldozer, as a samurai, as an android programmed to kill, as Plastic Man and Titanium Man and Matter-Eater Lad, as a Buick Electra, as a Peterbilt truck, and even, for a week, as the Mackinac Bridge, but it was as a werewolf that Timothy Stokes finally went too far."

That is the opening line to the title story: that, is Michael Chabon.  He is funny--no matter how inappropriate or dark--a hallmark that I've long felt marked quality contemporary, literary fiction as done by the likes of Chabon, Nicole Krauss, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez and others.  At his best, as in the title story, he tends to tell two stories at once.  One in more detail than the other and yet each illuminate and complement the other.  In Werewolves in their Youth we see two school boys, one who wants to be accepted and normal, the other who embraces being different and eagerly anticipates the thought of a special school and riding a different bus than all the other children.  Their story is against parents in the beginning stages of divorce explaining and trying to understand their differences, flirting with reconciliation, and ultimately coming to terms with all that separates them.    

House Hunting is a story about a realtor showing a home to a couple that probably shouldn't be together in the first place.  As we see the couple growing together, all in the course of the day and being shown one house, we also see that the realtor has some very strong personal connections to this particular house and it's current owner.  Chabon's 'tell two stories at once' mechanic works brilliantly and sometimes is so subtle as to go undetected.  

Son of the Wolfman is perhaps the most powerful and unfulfilling.  A ten-year married couple have been actively trying to get pregnant for five years with the assistance of every fertility drug they can afford.  As the wife decides to keep a baby beget by a rapist, she does so at the expense of her husband.  How a story with that premise can fall flat is beyond me.  While there was drive and tension aplenty the ending left me feeling grossly underwhelmed, if not indifferent.    

The collection's final inclusion is also the most interesting.  It's a horror story and a damned fine one at that.  Chabon, forever in love with flirting across genre lines, can drop his love of ornate descriptions and humor to scare you more than a little bit.  In The Black Mill works on all levels but it's inclusion in this particular collection is startling for more reasons than just the scary factor.  It's the only story of it's kind in this collection and it feels a bit lost.  I read it and kept waiting to laugh at something, to smile, or to marvel at his use of language.  By the time I figured out what was happening in the story I was too caught up in the events to want for any of the above, but in no way did this story fit in with the rest of the collection.  

The others are all fine writing if not anything spectacular.  There is nothing here to rival S Angel, nor is the collection as strong as A Model World and Other Stories.  That is to say, even if Chabon should be slightly off his game he is still stylishly amazing and wholly worth reading.  

Month in Review

Better late than never.  September was not a very strong reading month for me.  It took me a long time to get through The Last of the Wine, which I had started the previous month, even if I did enjoy it.  September's reading was essentially me picking up what was left over from August.

I finished Renault, and worked further into two short story collections that I'm still working on.  I've been reading a lot, with not a lot to show.  I've also fallen into a blogging lethargy that I hope to remedy by leaving comments for the previously mentioned story collections: they are both really good, one of them has been amazing so far.

Not that my TBR pile is in anyway diminishing but I did do a lot of book buying in September and that is always fun.  I picked up a couple of books I'd already read and wanted to own; three books of poetry, which I'm steadily gaining confidence in both reading, and finding accessible narrative poets that I actually enjoy reading; the next book in the Earthsea series, Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny; Fevre Dream by George Martin; Ancient Light for John Banville; How to Paint a Dead Man by Sarah Hall; and Fairy Tale, by Alice Thomas Ellis.   .

I'm very excited about all of these but I'm not willing to make any predictions about what is going to get read when.

October also means the end of baseball season, which is sad, but the Braves are still playing (if, seemingly, only for a little while longer).  It's also getting cold and considering we never had a summer, I'm not happy about that.  These two events coinciding should mean more reading, so check back regularly for frequent updates in regards to my awesomeness.

The Last of the Wine by Mary Renault

This bit of commentary has been a long time coming.  The wait is primarily due to the fact that it took me forever and a day to get through the book.  While reading, I was engrossed and truly enjoying every word that went by and whatever story was being told, but when I was finished reading, there was absolutely nothing that compelled me to come back and read more.  In this regard, The Last of the Wine reminded me a lot of the book that led me to it: Among Others.  

The setting is Ancient Greece near the close of the Peloponnesian War and the story follows Alexias from his birth until he achieves the vague outlines that define 'manhood.'  There's eternal fighting, and lots of relationships developed.  Reading The Last of the Wine it's easy to see that the author loved the time period and certainly did her homework in conveying Greece to the reader.

As this is the first book by Renault I've read, I can't say whether or not her writing style was a bit stiff or if it merely felt dated or both.  (The book is 57 years old.)  It's emotionally sterile  and more of historical presentation of fact--which certainly isn't bad--but does make for some very dense reading at more than four-hundred pages.

Renault picked a rich time frame to set her story and as such there are a wealth of names the reader is likely to have some level of familiarity with: Xenophon, Sokcrates, Plato, Phaedo, and Lysander to name a few.  However, for me, there was no greater relationship than Alexias' interaction with his unyieldingly badass, hard-as-nails father.  Second in effect to the father son relationship was Alexias' relationship with Lysis, a slightly older Athenian of an outstanding family who has taken a serious liking to the former.  

Which brings me to the most alluring aspect of the book: Renault researched and wrote a story, she finished and decided her efforts were good, she then dunked it in, if not outright homoeroticism, then certainly a heavy coat sensual sauce. 

Alexias himself encompasses all ambiguity of this issue.  He's a somewhat ugly child who grows into being what can only be considered the hottest thing under the sun: it become clear early on that everyone who isn't family wants a piece of him.  Perhaps it's only my curiosity (but more likely the fact that Alexias' relationships were the only point offered for a reader to make an emotional connection) but I really wanted to know, 'Why does everyone want a piece of Alexias?'  What are they going to do with him?  Are they only interested in dating and holding hands in the park (which essentially happened)?  Are they trying to score a one-nighter or a long term marriage kind of thing?  None of my curiosity was satisfied and rightfully so: we don't know the specifics of pederastic relationships at that time and I thought it in the story's best interest to not make up 'supposed history.'  

My only problem with the book was a lack of overall, unifying plot.  While the story didn't feel like anecdotes it also never felt like it was building to a specific ending.  Thus my previous comment about enjoying it while I was reading but finding it hard to come back to. 

For me The Last of the Wine is a book I read and felt had no great faults: it takes you away and firmly establishes you in a different far off world, and touches on just about all the elements that make a story great.  It's odd, because it's a book I'd readily recommend to anyone, it just wasn't for me.  

For a second opinion of the same book, check out what Maria has to say.  

It's all about one word

I like this poem for a host of reasons, but there is all of one word that really makes the whole thing pop; at least for me.  (Actually, there are two but one is greater than the other.)

Can you find it?

At The Far End of a Long Wharf by Thomas Lux

At the far end of a long wharf
a deaf child, while fishing, hauls in
a large eel and -- not
because it is ugly -- she bashes its brains
out of eeldom on the hot
planks -- whamp, whamp, whamp, a sound
she does not hear.  It's the distance
and the heat that abstracts
the image for me.  She also does not hear,
nor do I, the splash the eel makes
when she tosses it in her bucket,
nor do we hear the new bait
pierced by the clean hook, nor
its lowering into the water again.
Nobody could.  I watch her
all afternoon until, catching nothing
else, she walks the wharf toward
me, her cousin, thinking
with a thousand fingers.  Pointing
at our boat she tells me
to drag it to the water.  She wants me to row
her out to the deep lanes of fish.
Poetry is a menial task.

Month in Review

Lots and lots of reading this month, but as you may have noticed, very little reviewing.  I've been lazy in that regard; sorry.  I got through nine books which may be a record.  It could have been more.  I'd read a few short story collections and I have a few waiting to be read that the library will want back sooner than later, but instead of knocking a couple of those out I really wanted something big and meaty and awesome so I started reading The Last of the Wine by Mary Renault a bit earlier than I had planned.  It's big and fat and dense in the best of ways.  I'll have somethings to say on that when it's over and done.  

The list of books read this month which were not my favorite stories committed to paper are Among Others by Jo Walton, The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman, and The Line Between, by Peter S Beagle.  Gaiman and Beagle are amazing, but I don't feel these are anywhere near their best work.  You can check out the full review for my thoughts on Walton.

The Prophet by Kahil Gibran and Social Studies by Fran Lebowitz were an interesting pair of books to read back to back.  Gibran is a pan-genre inspirational, spiritual, self help, prose poetry, awkward narrative kinda thing full of paradoxes and lofty thoughts that may--or may not--be worth thinking about.  And Lebowitz's hysterical social commentary is dated but still relevant.  Add me to the legions that wonder how it is that she hasn't published anything in decades.   

Oh yeah that's right.  I even threw in some non-fiction this month because I'm awesome like that.

The really really good stuff I read this month were Crow by Ted Hughes, The Wizard of Earthsea and Changing Planes by Ursula K Le Guin, and Four Quartets by TS Eliot.  To this I owe a large measure of thanks to Jo Walton as every one of these books or authors came to my attention by way of reading Among Others.  She provided some excellent recommendations and I'm further encouraged to try other books she mentioned in Among Others.  Good thing I took notes!  

I can't say I understood all the poems in Crow, but if that is a style of poetry I need to know what that style is, because I loved each and every one.  Visceral, bloody and immediate would be a some words used to describe that collection.  Eliot contrast nicely with Hughes though it was harder for me to follow.  I'm the last person alive over thirty to read The Wizard of Earthsea so I won't talk about it, but Changing Planes was just plain old cool.  It's a collection of related-ish short stories.  The premise is, while killing time at an airport while waiting for your connecting flight why not visit a new plane of existence, new people, culture, society for a few days and be brought right back to your airport terminal when it's time to board your flight?  There's some real social commentary in this collection, some faux, hypothetical social commentary, and some all around great writing.  In many ways, Changing Planes felt like non-fiction.  This would be the one book I regret not leaving commentary for this month, but oh well…   

            

That's a lot of reading for me in one month but I honestly think I'm leaving something out.  In August, I had to actively work to not re-read Perfect Escape.    

The Decatur book festival happened this month, and it will happen for two days next month as well.  I go every year as there is always someone I want to hear speak, meet, or hangout with, but I never go to go see and do all the stuff.  I did so this year and capped the day off with a talk by Austin and Lev Grossman.  They are the most down to earth, regular ass guys you could ever expect to meet.  They're funny and approachable, and they like the same books I like; in addition to their own.  To be identical twins it's amazing how after an hour of hearing them talk I don't feel I'd ever get them confused.    

Lev has personally assured me that The Magician's Land will be out early to mid next year…'or something like that'…  'as long as I finish it.'  And while I didn't go to his reading at DragonCon (how is he reading from a book he hasn't finished, you ask) he kinda maybe probably inferred that at least one chapter is done and even being published in some form in the coming months.  Random side notes on Lev Grossman: he had to force himself to read and finish "that book by Tolkien with the rings…" because it was long and boring (we are kindred spirits), he feels Kelly Link is a secret the publishing industry has kept too well for far too long, he's a huge fan of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (who isn't?) and The Once and Future King (blah to really good…), he's not too hot on Mevryn Peake and has far more praise than I for Jonathan Franzen's fiction.   

I didn't know Austin Grossman existed until the book festival.  He is awesome.  I tried to buy his book but the seller had run out of copies.  (A mammoth oversight in my mind… come on now independent book sellers…)  In addition to needing to track down copies of his currently available You, and Soon I will be Invincible, please please please keep your eyes peeled for his current work in progress which will feature a throw down for the title 'biggest and baddest villain of all time': Cthulhu versus Richard Nixon.  Did I mention Austin is awesome?

Because that is the greatest idea ever.  

I also went to a poetry reading where I had fun laughing at a woman poet from out of town who was invited to read from her new book of poems.  For reasons unknown to herself or anyone else, she wore long corduroy pants and a sweater and looked very nice.  She remarked on the heat was and thought it prudent to only bring shorts and tee shirts should she come back to the festival in the future.  (Some of today's poets earn their rep for 'loopy.')  I also had the pleasure of hearing Thomas Lux read.  He is amazing and I'll shortly be tracking down everything he has published.  I'm not a poetry critic but I know what I like: his work is accessible, disturbing, and poignant.  

I can't say enough how much I wish I had a written copy of the poems they were reading while they were reading.  To me, poetry on the page is especially dead, with it's oft time esoteric or outright unexplainable punctuation and presentation, but when it's read by the author it amazed me how much of a narrative story was being told.  Go check out Lux; now.     

David Levithan, and more Grossman tomorrow in some very interesting panels.  And who knows who else I'll bump into?  Note to self: when rich, move to downtown Decatur.    

Apropos of red shells, I've discovered Knights and Dragons and that is how I waste all my free time.  It shouldn't be as much fun as it is.  It shouldn't be as addictive as it is.  It shouldn't crash as much as it does, but I can't stop playing.  It's like reading Graceling...   You can friend me if you like, or better yet hit me up and I'll send you an invite then you can friend me after the tutorial so can get the extra goodies.  Then we can be best of friends.  Guild coming soon.  If you have a smart phone or ipad, start playing; you'll never have another free five minutes.  XBD-WPF-VYV  Tutorial, then friend me, and you're awesome.  

Finally, the most impressive thing that happened in my life this month was the discovery by Maria and I that I am in fact, a unicorn!  (This has nothing to do with DragonCon going on in town this week either.)  While this may seem chimera (I myself thought that I would be more dragon-ish, cthulhunic, or winged Balrog type menace) it was through rather exhaustive discussion that Maria proved beyond all argument I could care to offer (which was little) that I am in fact, gorgeous, awesome, single (at the time of writing), male, and one who reads slightly more than most.  

Unicorns for the win!