The Tower of Books is Gone

It fell. It's much more egalitarian this way. No strange sense of heirarchy. Reviews after St. Patrick's Day!

Short Review of Books I Constantly Pick Up and Peruse in the Store but Have Yet to Buy (in no particular order)

The Joy of Cooking
Rombauer, et al.

I keep promising myself that I’ll buy it and use it as my new food bible. Next paycheck. Next paycheck arrives and I realize that I don’t get all that into cooking for just myself and don’t have anyone else to cook for/with right now. But maybe next paycheck. Because the beauty of The Joy is that the recipes are fantastic templates for anything you want to eventually create. Right now, I’m afraid that it would gather dust with my vegetarian cookbook as I continue to make rice and beans and Indian food out of a box.


the curious incident of the dog in the night-time
Mark Haddon

I actually read this one all the way through in the store. A feat I realized (in retrospect, of course) that is probably not something to brag about when discussions shift to store productivity at a staff meeting. If you have not yet read this book (in the store or elsewhere) grab a copy. If for nothing else than the narrative voice, it is a compelling novel of trepidation and a great outsider’s viewpoint of how relationships and societal conventions fall apart. And the chapters are prime numbers.


This Is Not A Novel
David Markson

“Realizing idly that every artist in history – until Writer’s own century – rode horseback.” Markson rejects narrative and offers a long string of interesting (true?) tidbits about the lives and (more so) the deaths of literary and artistic figures. And some etymology. And history about famous works. The juxtapositions, and new (again, true?) awareness are very enjoyable, especially when the Writer interrupts (interjects, since there is no actual story). It’s an experiment that serves to comment on art and readership as we create our own stories and meaning as we page through the seemingly random quotes and factoids.
I’ll probably wind up owning this one since I keep picking up and enjoying it. Maybe next paycheck.


Rainbow Darkness
Keith Tuma (ed.)

This is the resulting anthology of African-American poetry from the Diversity in African American Poetry Conference held at Miami University in 2003. A conference that was a week of excitement for myself and everyone else in the poetry program during that semester. One of the only reasons I have yet to buy this one is that I keep trying to let other people know about it when they ask for my recommendations. It’s a fantastic collection: Lorenzo Thomas, Harryette Mullen, Terrance Hayes, Natasha Trethewey, Wanda Coleman… wonderful, powerful and creative voices in American writing. This collection does recreates the experience of that week – by reading through the poems and essays, you feel the different opinions and passions that were shared; you discover new poets who have been operating below national recognition and you see the reasons why they are right next to the poets who garner a lot of attention. I will buy this book. It’s just a matter of how many people I’ll sell it to first.


Upcoming reviews- The Tent by Atwood, Icelander by Long, and Speaking of Faith by Tippett.

SNOW

Snow by Orhan Pamuk has received an extraordinary amount of praise. So, I hesitate to add my meager opinion to the eloquent appraisals already out there. But, it's proven itself to be a cornerstone of the tower of books awaiting some passing comment, so here I meagerly go.

Snow is about Ka, a Turkish poet, looking to fall in love with a girl from his youth in a town he visited in his youth. He's spent the last years in Germany and comes under the guise of investigating a recent string of suicides. The small town gets snowed in, a coup is staged, he deals with fervent Islamists and fervent Secularists, he writes poems based on lightening inspirations, and he falls in love. A love, that we're told by our narrator from the start, doomed to failure.

I love situational reading, and this novel seemed tailored to my circumstances. Ka is snowed in; we get a couple feet of snow in a week. Ka is searching for something to aspire towards: love, religion, politics, art... but he's kept back by his own senses of skepticism that is split between doubt of the authenticity of those around him, and his own questioning of his own intentions. I can relate. Ka hasn't written poems in years. I've only written a few that I like recently. Ka starts writing furiously to describe his circumstances and those of the small town he's in. I so want to do that.

Ok, so it's not all as direct of correlations as the snow happened to be.

Orhan's narrative voice is splendid. It ebbs and flows, inviting the reader to become very involved with the action and the characters, then reigning back with an objective reminder that this is all a tragedy and then heightening our desire by announcing points of no return "the last time he would see her." It matches the story of Ka in this place, Kars, that continually tempts and rejects him. He is a guest, and the narration shows how tenuous that position is between involvement and exclusion... especially when the place is familiar and part of one's own history.

I was nervous about the flashes of inspiration that Ka received for his poetry and how each poem came out just right on the first draft. But Ka shows equal disbelief and begins to surrender himself to the process. He is called a Dervish several times. It is a good commentary on writing- that there needs to be that doubt and work ethic, but there also has to be a devotion to being open and receiving the flashes of
inspiration when they occur.

Orhan Pamuk keeps the uneasiness and excitement of writing, of not belonging, of falling in love, of politics, alive throughout the novel by never resting too long at any point. It keeps us wondering, wanting to identify the characters and place them archetypically in our appreciation of Turkey. And it keeps showing that we won't be able to succeed at that.

Winter Reading

I've had this growing stack of books threatening to attack me whenever I need a new pair of socks (nearly everyday) and I've decided to deal with it by reading a book for every book I add to it. Not as diligent as some may wish me to be, but it keeps it from looming as high as it might be otherwise. In an effort to not immediately forget the pieces and masterpieces along the way as I slice through the literary jungle that has become my room, I'm going to try and document my reactions and recommendations here (huh... like a slicer review of sorts...).

The Keys of the Kingdom by AJ Cronin. I picked this one up because it's the book my father referred to most often when he was stressing religious tolerance and exploration to me as I grew up. I'm exploring again and decided to go to the source. The prose seemed sensationalistic and heavy handed at times, and quick witted and poignant at other times. The story is much the same. All in all, a very nice read as the message behind the would-be-trite was sincere, if trying to push the envelope. A young Catholic loses both of his parents to Scotish sectarian violence and is guided by his relatives into the priesthood. He falls in love, she dies. He goes into the priesthood. It's set just past the turn of the century and written pre-Vatican 2, so it's common practice for the clergy to be heavyhanded and self-occupied, while our hero aspires toward austerity and subtlety. He's sent off to China where he develops an affinity for the people through serving them as best as he is able. He refuses those who try to convert out of eagerness to please or to seek advantages for themselves. He sets up a school and a garden and negotiates peace between warlords. Other priests deride him for not following strict Church dogma, not converting as many locals as possible, and being too proud in his own asceticism. Good Quote: "... Mrs. Glendenning, who cannot of course help her extreme stoutness, came to you for spiritual guidance you looked at her and replied, 'Eat less. the gates of paradise are narrow.'" In a world dominated by religious extremism, it's refreshing and inspiring to read of sincere people who give themselves to their faith without turning on others (although that quote out of context seems less than compassionate).



There's more to follow, soon.

Please, as always, leave any comments, criticisms and questions.

Also, keep coming back for updates in the links section (any and all suggestions welcome there too!) and news on my chapbook's struggle towards becoming a physical reality.