Tuesday, April 7, 2009
4/7/2009
Today Vermont became the first state to legalize gay marriage through the legislature. There are no words.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
#14 Wishful Drinking
Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher. OK, I literally read this in an evening while Gavin read Wired and Dad watched House. Apparently it's more or less a transcript of her stage show. I want to see that show. Excerpt: “And now for a list of famous alcoholics: Ulysses S. Grant. Edgar Allen Poe. George W. Bush. Russia.” hee! Funny and entertaining without too much substance. She did talk a bit about her drug use, alcohol use, and being diagnosed as bipolar. That was good to read, especially right now. She seems to have had far more serious swings than I do, but. She talked about using drugs and alcohol not necessarily to feel good but to get to normal. I think I'm that way with food. An interesting realization.
If you can pick it up at a bargain table, it's worth the five bucks.
If you can pick it up at a bargain table, it's worth the five bucks.
#13 A Spot of Bother
So it feels like I've been reading a lot, but looking back on it? Not so much. These next five are in the order I remember reading them.
A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. OK, so I started this book with a chip on my shoulder because Mom told me it might be “too British” for me. To which I said, I accept your challenge, madam and I finished the book in an afternoon. sighs But, I'm really really glad I did because I loved this book. LOVED IT.
George Hall is going crazy. And he knows he's going crazy. But, he's British. So he goes crazy without allowing anyone around him to notice. Stiff upper lip? An expression for a reason. George's encroaching breakdown feels very real to me. In a different way than my own, but I recognize the panic and the fear and the denial and the awful recognition that something is wrong. Well done Mr. Haddon.
However, the other three characters are also interesting. Jean, George's wife, is having an affair. His daughter Katie is marrying a man she's not sure she loves while his son Jamie has so compartmentalized his life that he has set days of the week for his boyfriend to spend the night.
So all of these people are miserable, hurting, lonely, obsessed with some mythical idea of something better. And then, during one disastrous week and really just about the worst wedding reception one could imagine, everything is resolved. And yes, it seems rather too pat, but dude. All four realize that sometimes, you have to stop looking for perfection and open your eyes. And you won't find that perfection has been in front of you all along. Instead, you settle, you adapt, you give up your preconceptions and your certainties. And that's life. And it's good.
I see what my mom meant by a British book. But, with a Scots mother, a British father, and a childhood spend reading Richard Crompton's William the Terrible and Agatha Christie? I'm British enough to have thoroughly enjoyed this book. Tally ho, dear chap!
A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. OK, so I started this book with a chip on my shoulder because Mom told me it might be “too British” for me. To which I said, I accept your challenge, madam and I finished the book in an afternoon. sighs But, I'm really really glad I did because I loved this book. LOVED IT.
George Hall is going crazy. And he knows he's going crazy. But, he's British. So he goes crazy without allowing anyone around him to notice. Stiff upper lip? An expression for a reason. George's encroaching breakdown feels very real to me. In a different way than my own, but I recognize the panic and the fear and the denial and the awful recognition that something is wrong. Well done Mr. Haddon.
However, the other three characters are also interesting. Jean, George's wife, is having an affair. His daughter Katie is marrying a man she's not sure she loves while his son Jamie has so compartmentalized his life that he has set days of the week for his boyfriend to spend the night.
So all of these people are miserable, hurting, lonely, obsessed with some mythical idea of something better. And then, during one disastrous week and really just about the worst wedding reception one could imagine, everything is resolved. And yes, it seems rather too pat, but dude. All four realize that sometimes, you have to stop looking for perfection and open your eyes. And you won't find that perfection has been in front of you all along. Instead, you settle, you adapt, you give up your preconceptions and your certainties. And that's life. And it's good.
I see what my mom meant by a British book. But, with a Scots mother, a British father, and a childhood spend reading Richard Crompton's William the Terrible and Agatha Christie? I'm British enough to have thoroughly enjoyed this book. Tally ho, dear chap!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
#12 The Gathering
The Gathering by Anne Enright. OK, this was the book that's convinced me I want to start reading real books again (after a 2 month hiatus). I started it this morning, reluctantly went to work, and finished it after dinner.
The Hegarty clan gather in Dublin to mourn the suicide of their brother Liam. The structure of the story is interesting. The titular gathering doesn't take place until about 3/4s of the way through the book, but the consequences for Veronica, the narrator, have been in full play for the first part of the book. Enright weaves reminiscence, past, present, future, and fantasy to portray a woman in grief and a family coping with a subtle, insidious evil. And Veronica works through all this before we find out what the secrets are, or how the family reunion goes. And her anger and her grief is so real, and her hatred of everything, of her family, her husband, her children, herself rings so true. And so does her epiphany at the end of the book and all of this hatred, this rage and disgust at her husband, the world fundamentally shifts. This bone-deep shift is what I'm looking for in therapy, so finding it in a novel? Was an unexpected gift.
I can't wait to start my new book tomorrow! It's a lovely feeling.
The Hegarty clan gather in Dublin to mourn the suicide of their brother Liam. The structure of the story is interesting. The titular gathering doesn't take place until about 3/4s of the way through the book, but the consequences for Veronica, the narrator, have been in full play for the first part of the book. Enright weaves reminiscence, past, present, future, and fantasy to portray a woman in grief and a family coping with a subtle, insidious evil. And Veronica works through all this before we find out what the secrets are, or how the family reunion goes. And her anger and her grief is so real, and her hatred of everything, of her family, her husband, her children, herself rings so true. And so does her epiphany at the end of the book and all of this hatred, this rage and disgust at her husband, the world fundamentally shifts. This bone-deep shift is what I'm looking for in therapy, so finding it in a novel? Was an unexpected gift.
I can't wait to start my new book tomorrow! It's a lovely feeling.
#11 The Restraint of Beasts
The Restraint of Beasts by Magnus Mills is fucking hilarious, in a very dour, scottish way. I'll be honest; it's dark enough I had to put it down for a couple of days. Not dark in a painful way, but dark in a repetitious, unending slog kind of way. But, once you push past that? It's pretty funny.
It's about Scots day laborers and their travails. But what I first thought was going to be a fairly standard workman's humor type quickly transformed into this dark, dour, funny, THING. I cannot stress this enough: the humor is DARK, almost Kafka-esque. To be honest, I had to remind myself it was a comedy before I could pick it up again. But, with that in mind, the workers' travails and endless evenings in the local pub become funny. As does the ever growing pile of bodies.
At any rate, it took me a while to get into, but once I did, I loved this book. I'm going to lend it to my dad, actually. I think he might get a kick out of it. However, warning, I think it's a pretty British brand of humor. Uncertain if it'd translate well to someone who doesn't think Cold Comfort Farm is hilarious, so yeah. Bear that in mind.
P.S. Plus, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Worth considering.
It's about Scots day laborers and their travails. But what I first thought was going to be a fairly standard workman's humor type quickly transformed into this dark, dour, funny, THING. I cannot stress this enough: the humor is DARK, almost Kafka-esque. To be honest, I had to remind myself it was a comedy before I could pick it up again. But, with that in mind, the workers' travails and endless evenings in the local pub become funny. As does the ever growing pile of bodies.
At any rate, it took me a while to get into, but once I did, I loved this book. I'm going to lend it to my dad, actually. I think he might get a kick out of it. However, warning, I think it's a pretty British brand of humor. Uncertain if it'd translate well to someone who doesn't think Cold Comfort Farm is hilarious, so yeah. Bear that in mind.
P.S. Plus, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Worth considering.
#10 Hold the Enlightenment
Tim Cahill's Hold the Enlightenment is, like his other books, hard to classify. Gonzo travel? Geographically diverse musings? New Age/Neanderthal drivel? I don't know. He has a very definite voice, albeit one that I can't quite pin down. All I can say is I think he writes like my dad sounds in my head. And that's quite nice, really.
So yes, it's a book of essays musing on, among other things, the extinct Caspian tiger, driving with camels, completely crushing a writing student, and praying to something he doesn't really believe in to save a child he loves. If you like essays at all, I would totally recommend this book. He's a bit more contemplative than Maarten Troost but more accessible than David Foster Wallace.
But, other than this book, I've started reading again. That's...nice. And rather unexpected. Actually, no. I should save this introspection for my next post. I read this book several weeks ago after stumbling across it at a thrift store, of all places. I'd completely forgotten about him until I saw his name on the spine of the book, but once I did... Pass the Butterworms: Remote Journeys Oddly Rendered is one of the those books I read over and over and over again. Alas, I can't find it now, think I might have cleaned out on one of my annual attempts to stave off my bookcase's inevitable collapse. Unfortunately, I've lost many books to this phenomenon, and it's at least part of the reason why I'm keeping this record.
So yes, it's a book of essays musing on, among other things, the extinct Caspian tiger, driving with camels, completely crushing a writing student, and praying to something he doesn't really believe in to save a child he loves. If you like essays at all, I would totally recommend this book. He's a bit more contemplative than Maarten Troost but more accessible than David Foster Wallace.
But, other than this book, I've started reading again. That's...nice. And rather unexpected. Actually, no. I should save this introspection for my next post. I read this book several weeks ago after stumbling across it at a thrift store, of all places. I'd completely forgotten about him until I saw his name on the spine of the book, but once I did... Pass the Butterworms: Remote Journeys Oddly Rendered is one of the those books I read over and over and over again. Alas, I can't find it now, think I might have cleaned out on one of my annual attempts to stave off my bookcase's inevitable collapse. Unfortunately, I've lost many books to this phenomenon, and it's at least part of the reason why I'm keeping this record.
Monday, February 9, 2009
#9 Driving with Dead People
Driving with Dead People by Monica Holloway. First of all, warnings. This book deals with heavy topics, including suicide, so if you trigger, I'd stay away. We learn about Holloway's childhood, and she makes being raised by an abusive narcissist and a neglectful narcissist entertaining and engaging. But then, as she details her early adulthood and deals with her suicidal sister, new details emerge.
I won't go into details, but what I liked best about this book was how even though we don't find out the details of the evilness until the end of the book, we KNOW that something's wrong in Holloway's house. Holloway's description of the family dynamic, the occasional cryptic comment from her mother, it all ties together into one horrifying picture, and we suspect before Holloway comes to her realization. The book is a fascinating study of at least half the principles in my family crisis class, and yeah.
But you know what I LOVED about this book, despite the really difficult subject matter? Holloway motherfucking faces up to her demons. She has a brother who is drinking his life away, a sister who refuses to talk to her because she doesn't want to remember, a mother who is determinedly oblivious, and a sister who is shatteringly fragile. There is one point in the book where it's really clear she had two choices: go ahead and figure out the extent of her father's abuse, or bury it, thereby maintaining her relationship with the majority of her family. She makes a choice. And it's the hard choice, the brave choice, the right choice. She faces what happened to her and her family, and she tears her life apart.
And she doesn't regret it. How amazing is that, how STRONG is that, to be able to look at everything you knew about your childhood, about your family, about yourself, and to admit that it was a lie?
I don't know if I'll ever read this book again, but I wanted to write this review so I could remember. There are people who face the truth, and it hurts and it destroys what you thought you knew, but it's worth it. It's fucking worth it.
I won't go into details, but what I liked best about this book was how even though we don't find out the details of the evilness until the end of the book, we KNOW that something's wrong in Holloway's house. Holloway's description of the family dynamic, the occasional cryptic comment from her mother, it all ties together into one horrifying picture, and we suspect before Holloway comes to her realization. The book is a fascinating study of at least half the principles in my family crisis class, and yeah.
But you know what I LOVED about this book, despite the really difficult subject matter? Holloway motherfucking faces up to her demons. She has a brother who is drinking his life away, a sister who refuses to talk to her because she doesn't want to remember, a mother who is determinedly oblivious, and a sister who is shatteringly fragile. There is one point in the book where it's really clear she had two choices: go ahead and figure out the extent of her father's abuse, or bury it, thereby maintaining her relationship with the majority of her family. She makes a choice. And it's the hard choice, the brave choice, the right choice. She faces what happened to her and her family, and she tears her life apart.
And she doesn't regret it. How amazing is that, how STRONG is that, to be able to look at everything you knew about your childhood, about your family, about yourself, and to admit that it was a lie?
I don't know if I'll ever read this book again, but I wanted to write this review so I could remember. There are people who face the truth, and it hurts and it destroys what you thought you knew, but it's worth it. It's fucking worth it.
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