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!     

It Would Be Nice If Something Happened

Apparently, I'm becoming a picky reader in my old age.  Two years ago I was so bold as to ask really good authors to write something that resembled an ending in their works. And here I am now, wanting something to happen in a novel; just a bit of action.

I've said my bit about Among Others, and others seem to agree that nothing happened.  Now, I'm reading The Ocean at the End of the Lane and I find myself reading another novel in which nothing is happening.  I'm getting a bit frustrated...

Added to which I've hit my limit for items checked out from the library at one time (Who knew there was a limit!  Why is there a limit?!).  I almost bought everything on my Amazon wish list, which would have ushered me into insolvency, in hopes of there being one book in which stuff happened as I was too worn out to actually 'shop.'  I'm too worn out to shop, people!

Hell, I'm tempted to go pick up my paperback collection of David Gemmell stuff only because I know stuff happens in those books (even if I have them memorized and even if I'm not sure I could bring myself to read again).

Half way through Gormenghast--nothing is happening...
Half way through The Line Between--nothing is happening...
Halfway through The Ocean at the End of the Lane--nothing is happening...

Thank God for Ted Hughes and Crow; cause it's awesome.  (Thanks for the recommendation Jo Walton.)

What ever will I complain about next?  

Among Others by Jo Walton

Morwenna likes to drink water.  Her favorite thing in the world is inter-library loan.  She doesn't like tea, orange juice, and certainly not champagne.  She doesn't like people and prefers the company of fairies and science fiction--both of which seem to be a rather exclusive, if not an esoteric, pursuit.  While there is nothing wrong with these personality traits, I share a few, neither are they interesting enough to justify writing a book about.  After reading Among Others I feel certain Morwenna wouldn't like apple juice, cool-aid, or Armagnac.  Morwenna likes to drink water.  She is willfully the most boring person alive.

But she doesn't have to be.

Walton chose to write a book about science fiction.  She discusses other books and authors in the genre up until 1980.  There is nothing wrong with such a book, and I think it would be welcomed among that community of readers, but why she chose to do so under the guise of fiction is beyond me.  More so than the book discussion--which was genuinely interesting from time to time--is the fact that Walton chose to write a novel out of what should have been a readers guide to SF with absolutely no conflict or tension to speak of.  It's not that the conflict is subtle or heavily cloaked: it ain't there.  This absence of conflict is exacerbated by lovely prose about trite day-to-day occurrences and vague hints in directions of interest that are never developed or explored.

Morwenna can see fairies, but please, don't expect a story out of that.  She was involved in an accident that killed her twin sister, at which point Morweena assumed her sister's name, and she has been left with a ruined leg and a cane; but for some reason we don't need to make a story out of that either.  After meeting her father and feeling indifferent she brushes off a drunken incident where he tries to force himself on her, but let's not introduce anything that could be misconstrued as an interesting launching point at this time in the story.  The accident that claimed her sister and leg was brought on by her allegedly mad mother, who is a witch, but surely that wouldn't be fun to talk about either.

After running away from her crazy mother, she goes to stay with her estranged father and his three sisters, who are also witches and manipulating their brother.  (No story there either...)  She goes to a private school and resolutely resist making friends or socializing in any way, until she 'magically' works her way into a book club.  I don't mean this as a joke, but to those who have read the book: does any of this sound interesting yet?  Am I being faithful in regards to what the book is about?  Everything is so casually mentioned as to not resonate: 'Today I did some lame ass magic,' 'I followed around the ghost of my sister,' 'I went to sleep masturbating about Wim (a horrible diminutive of William).'  (Okay, actually when she said that I was startled--heart skipped two beats; primarily because that part woke me up and I learned Morwenna has a pulse... )  Nothing in Morwenna's life matters to her and in the narrative she conveys it as such.  It sure doesn't matter the reader.

Over the course of about a year she does manage to grow and develop some, first in the friends she resents having, the book club, a boyfriend, and ultimately finding purpose and direction in her life as opposed to joining her deceased sister, but here is nothing in this journey to the end that warrants a novel.

Morwenna is perhaps the hardest part of this book to deal with.  If you love SF from the time period involved you'll probably find much to enjoy or happily reminiscence , if not expect to be excluded from about a hundred pages worth of writing in this book.  About of third of the novel.  Morwenna is also the most condescending, high-and-mighty person ever depicted on the page.  (And to this achievement Walton is to be commended: well done.)  I have three post-its full of quotes to this effect but there was one at the end that summed it all up so nicely.  "I looked at him.  He was rarer than a unicorn, a beautiful boy in a red-checked shirt who read and thought and talked about books."  She is far more shallow than those she aggressively mocks and equally unwelcoming of those who aren't like her.  There isn't much she's not better than.    

The writing is clean, clear, and very pleasing to read.  I only wish there was something remotely resembling a story to go along with it.  The ending doesn't fizzle out because what precedes the ending never built up to anything.  The book could have ended on any page--any page--to the exact same effect.  I feel it pertinent to say: I'm not condemning this book.  It's not bad and I'd never tell someone that it is, merely, I've no idea why one would choose to read it, or what compelled Walton to set out on the surely arduous task of writing it.

Month in Review

Oops, I almost forgot to do this.  It's the only regular post I do so it really would have been a shame to leave it out.  July has been busy, and busy, has been good.  I did a lot of reading, and better still, I did a lot of good reading.  Perfect Escape takes the crown for the month but everything I read was really good.

I didn't get around to posting anything for The Cavalier in the Yellow Doublet but I liked it as much as I have best books in Perez-Reverte's Alitriste series.  Spain was the main character and I'm amazed each time I read one of these books to see how he deals with time and setting while still telling a story.  Story of a Girl didn't stick as much as I thought it would, but it was awesome while I was reading it.  Bitterblue has ultimately made me want from of everything from Cashore.   Lonely Werewolf girl was such a break from what I normally read that I'm all kinds a eager to get to the follow up.  A Stir of Bones was not what I was expecting but wonderful nonetheless.  I hope to suppress this urge as long as I can or at least until I'm in another reading funk.

I didn't get to reading any more of Gormenghast, which was a goal of mine, but as I have a friend reading Titus Groan I'll put some more effort into it in August.  I also got about half way through The Line Between by Peter Beagle.  It's a short story collection by a phenomenal short story writer, but all in all, I haven't been in love with anything in it thus far.  It's a very small book of very long stories; which I find odd for some reason.  I plan to finish it soon-ish.

I'm currently reading Among Others, which is an awesome birthday gift, and I'll have a couple things to say about that in a few days.  (It's a about quiet, condescending girl who has read everything.)  Also in line for this month is a small haul from the library: Werewolves in Their Youth by Michael Chabon, Changing Planes and The Birthday of The World both by Ursala K Le Guin.  Three short story collections in one trip; perhaps my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

July is kind of a downer month in terms of reading; one of those that I doubt I'll repeat in terms of quality, but here's to hoping I'm wrong.
     

Perfect Escape by Jennifer Brown

"This is what it's like living with a mentally ill person: everyone afraid to move.  Everyone afraid to speak.  You don't say certain words like suicide or crazy, and you do everything in your power to keep the good milliseconds lasting as long as they possibly can.  And you don't rush into anything at all, because rushing feels like courting disaster and you don't even know what that disaster is, because it's never the same disaster twice.  A ruined birthday?  A scene at a restaurant?  Police cars in the driveway in the middle of the night?  All of the above?  

And you don't ask for attention.  

And you get used to it when you don't get any. 

And you try really, really hard to forget that not getting attention hurts and that this person--this muttering, shadow-eyes, scabbed patient--was once your hero and best friend in the world.  Back when he was just a "weird kid."

And you try to remember that you still love him, even if some days, you can't exactly pinpoint why."  Page 8

Kendra's older brother, Grayson, has problems.  Not in any sense that most people can readily identify with either.  It's not merely Grayson's extreme OCD but a host of other anxiety issues that attest to his mental health and render his life eternally to the care of someone else.  

For the past few years Kendra has, consciously or not, made a choice about how she treated her brother.  She was never indifferent and she most certainly did care, but she was for the most part hands-off: the direct involvement she left to her parents, Grayson's doctors, and the institutional facilities he regularly checked into.  They have grown apart and due to some rash (i.e. bad) decision making on her part, facilitated by some serious trouble she has gotten herself into, we see how she plans to reestablish her past relationship with Grayson, maintain it, and even make it stronger.

Kendra is running away because she is in trouble at school.  It's not shallow, surface level trouble either, rather she'll probably be expelled, have her scholarships revoked, and not go to college kind of trouble.  Though not part of any grand premeditated plan, she manages to somehow accidentally--believably-- kidnap her brother and they head out to California, from Missouri.  Kendra excels at overreacting.  Here you would think the cliches come in, and here you'd be wrong.

They pickup Rena, a young woman not much older than Kendra, and her infant son.  It is almost immediately that we see that in a car with the leader of a school wide scandal, a single mother without a penny to her name (literally) and a mentally ill kid who is already miles away from his meds that Kendra is perhaps the least 'normal' person in the car.  

Kendra's discovery about so many things concerning Grayson and how they apply to their relationship was wonderful to watch unfold.  They physically get in a fight and she notices how much weight he's lost since he's been away at the most recent treatment facility.  She never looked at him long enough to see this; she had to physically start pushing him around to notice.  Rena points out, more than once, how genuinely nice he is and Kendra is appalled that she never came to see such an obvious truth.  Grayson is good looking and girls find him attractive and Kendra is outright offended at how she has had the opportunity to know him better than most anyone else ever would and yet she was never aware of these things.  She begins to marvel at how self-absorbed she has been in years past not wanting to get involved with Grayson and his problems.  She'd rather escape from all his drama and be normal.  And yet, on this impromptu, under-funded, not thought out beyond 'get in the car and drive' road trip she kinda treats him like shit… 

This, was a masterstroke by Brown.  Grayson has been coddled by his mother ever since the severity of his illness was uncovered even against the recommendations of his doctors that preach exposure therapy.  Kendra is stubborn, never more so than when she owns up to a mistake like taking someone such as Grayson half way across the country without his meds and not truly being capable of caring for him.  She's never directly mean to him, but she does revel in making Grayson uncomfortable, and everything makes Grayson uncomfortable: the car, a restaurant, a hospital, the motel… She's always joking but circumstance have made her jokes serious; Kendra has chosen to make Grayson confront all that makes him sick or suffer one of his epic meltdowns  knowing that there will be no one available for miles that can help him.  Needless to say, this makes for a ridiculous amount of tension on every page of this book.  

Which brings me to the third and greatest character in the book.  California; the cure; Zoe.  Kendra has it in her head that if everyone would stop coddling Grayson and make him deal with life that he would do so and be okay.  (The full extent of which she is wrong make some of the more intense sections of the book.)  She is going to fix her brother.  California, and Zoe her erstwhile best friend and past pseudo girl friend for Grayson represents a panacea for all his ails, or so she thinks.  Before she moved away, Zoe had a calming affect on Grayson that seemingly no other has had.  Rena too fits this mold in a very fleeting manner.  Reuniting with Zoe will be the culmination of all the trials she puts Grayson through in getting to California.  What Kendra is blind to--and never once stops to consider along the way--is that if she wants to be; if she actually applies herself, and works at this unique and extraordinarily difficult relationship, no one has a more calming and positive affect on Grayson's mind than she.  

The lack of overt affection between the two is a great strength of the novel.  Even when she wants to hug him, with full regard of how poorly Grayson responds to that kind of contact, she doesn't.  It's the kind of thing her mom would do that she feels has held him down.  Right or wrong, she's stubborn to a fault.  And her faults are colossal.  A lot of bad things happen in this book and yet Kendra never stopped pushing him.  

Their interaction is brilliant and it's interesting to see how similar they are.  They each feel they've have destroyed the other's life over the course of living their own.  And in no small degree they are both right.  The story, and the story of both their lives, is all about Grayson.  Even though it's told through Kendra's first person there is no distance or objectivity with Grayson.  No one hates that fact more than Grayson.  While his self-loathing is evident from the outset it is never explicitly communicated until a 'full-on freak out' as Kendra would say near the end.  He's almost always completely lucid (and it's usually some manifestation of his genius that pushes him into freak out mode) even if he has to always be counting something, touching something, rubbing something.  He can joke, and recall anecdotes from years past, he can sing along with the radio and bad pop music.  And after being forced into so many awkward situation by his sister he is surprised at the full extent of what he is capable of doing that he didn't know he was capable of doing.  

Kendra's self loathing is jealousy of all that has been taken away from her due to Grayson and a little bit of jealously masquerading as guilt for allowing them to grow apart in the first place. 

"Zoe was able to do something for Grayson that nobody else could: accept him for who he was.  Laugh and have fun with him.  Love him.  Make him relax.  She was able to do what I only wished I could.  She would never try to cure him.  She'd only try to make herself understand him better.  I was his sister.  I was his blood.  Why couldn't I do that?"  page 153

"...the feeling of resentment that I tried to stuff away because when someone can't even walk through his home normally, resenting him somehow feels mean.  Not to mention pointless.  Resenting Grayson wasn't going to cure him."  Page 9

Grayson is aware of how hard he's made his parents life, and Kendra's.  He feels like a hostage himself.  He's sick and not willfully so.  What he needs Kendra to see is that his pills, Zoe, nor this hell-bound road trip will cure him.  

They got in the car because of Kendra's problems; Grayson was an unfortunate casualty of Kendra's impulsive wrath.  They drove to California, 1,800 miles from home, because she thought she could outrun her troubles.  As strong as Kendra is, discovering the true nature of her problems and how to save herself from them took the help of the most broken person she knew; the one she'd been trying to ignore for years.  Understanding how, and why, is the reason you should read Perfect Escape.  

How do I write this review?

I'm not sure I'll ever read another book again.  Perfect Escape by Jennifer Brown may have destroyed my ability to read for pleasure.  I'm pretty sure that everything I may read for the rest of my life will be awful by comparison.  The bar has been set too high and my bookshelves are now weighted down with fail...

It's a rare feeling upon finishing a book that one can be so wholly satisfied with the experience that the thought of reading something else seems nothing short of absurd.  That is exactly how I feel.  Hopefully, this feeling will fade after a good night's sleep.  My sentiment aside I do feel a bit confused as to how to leave comments for this book.  I generally rip the books I love to shreds.  The ones I don't like I spend time trying to express reasons as to why.  I rarely rant or gush and when I do those are my worst bits of commentary.

I won't be ripping Perfects Escape to shreds and I'm not even going to attempt to temper my gushing.  In thinking about this I've come up with the following three thoughts:

1  The book personally speaks to me in a powerful and favorable way and for whatever reason I can't see it objectively.

2  The book is factually the best bit of fiction ever set to paper.

3  A combination of the above two (which is what I'm currently feeling, hours after finishing it).  

There may be other options, but right now, I admit to being blind to them--willfully or not.  I don't want to talk about this book.  I want to forcibly make my friends read it so I can talk about it with them.  I'll write it up tomorrow or the next day (I'm gonna take at least that long and enjoy basking in the glow of how good this book was).  Once written, I'll hang onto it for a bit longer in hopes of not gushing to the point of losing credibility.

Is objectivity a set goal in writing a review?  If so, I plan on failing that criteria.