tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-382680332024-02-07T15:15:06.611-05:00BiblioAddictAnnals of an Eclectic Incredibly Slow ReaderJ.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-6953583825326611542008-03-31T12:36:00.005-05:002008-03-31T13:25:43.009-05:00Pushkin? What's a 'Pushkin'?...<span style="font-style:italic;">On relationships, literary taste, an Ayn Rand infatuation, too much Virginia Woolf, and complementary perversions</span>: <br /><br />When it comes to budding relationships, how much does a potential partner's taste in books (or their lack of interest in reading, whatsoever) really matter? For many - writers and bloggers, alike - a lot, apparently. According to the <span style="font-style:italic;">NY Times</span>' Sunday Book Review essay "<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/30/books/review/Donadio-t.html?ref=review">It's Not You, It's Your Books</a>" literary taste has become a handy measuring stick for potential compatibility. <br /><br />Anna Fels, a Manhattan psychiatrist and the author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Necessary-Dreams-Ambition-Womens-Changing/dp/0679758887/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206986970&sr=1-1">NECESSARY DREAMS: AMBITION IN WOMEN'S CHANGING LIVES</a> says that inspecting a date's taste in books is "actually a pretty good way — as a sort of first pass — of getting a sense of someone. It’s a bit of a Rorschach test."<br /><br />Laura Miller, the book critic for <a href="http://dir.salon.com/topics/books/">Salon </a>confesses to dumping a guy because of his infatuation with Ayn Rand. Jessica Crispin of <a href="http://www.bookslut.com/blog/">Bookslut </a>wouldn't undress for a guy who says his life was changed by an inspirational book about dogs, and James Collins, the author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beginners-Greek-Novel-James-Collins/dp/0316021555/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206987145&sr=1-1">BEGINNER'S GREEK</a>, has written off potential partners for reading Baudrillard (too pretentious), John Irving (too middlebrow),and Virginia Woolf (too Virginia Woolf).<br /><br />So is there anything to this judgment by book? Maybe. We all surely have our own standards when it comes to picking a partner. But this bookish girl has to confess to feeling that many of those described in the essay come off as incredibly superficial and, to borrow one of Collin's words, pretentious.<br /><br />The article begins with one of the author's friends justifying breaking up with a boyfriend she still loved by yelling, "Can you believe it! He hadn’t even heard of Pushkin!" I hope the author did her friend justice by saying, "Okaaaay. And?" Is it really worth throwing away a partner you love because they don't know who Pushkin is? Or because they like Ayn Rand? Or because they read John Irving? <br /><br />In a perfect world, we would all be partnered with those of similar literary tastes but this isn't a perfect world, and it seems silly to throw away a perfectly interesting and suitable partner because you think their literature is too high or low brow. If I were that picky about those whom I dated, I'd be preparing to be single for a very long time. I'm much more inclined to agree with this passage near the end of the essay: <br /><br /><blockquote>Some people just prefer to compartmentalize. “As a writer, the last thing I want in my personal life is somebody who is overly focused on the whole literary world in general,” said Ariel Levy, the author of “Female Chauvinist Pigs” and a contributing writer at The New Yorker. Her partner, a green-building consultant, “doesn’t like to read,” Levy said. When she wants to talk about books, she goes to her book group. Compatibility in reading taste is a “luxury” and kind of irrelevant, Levy said. The goal, she added, is “to find somebody where your perversions match and who you can stand."</blockquote><br /><br />I'm not saying that literary taste doesn't matter, I'm saying on the list of things that do matter, literary taste is somewhere at the bottom. I'm much more likely give a guy the book for saying proudly and without any sense of shame, "I don't read" than I am the one who says, "Dan Brown is an excellent writer." That latter, at least, I can work with.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-65025608119083202842008-03-31T09:50:00.006-05:002008-03-31T12:32:30.655-05:00And the Weirdest Title Goes To...<span style="font-style:italic;">On closure, legs, sexism, pimps, hustlers, and big boom theories</span>:<br />The NY Times has <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/31/books/31arts-THEWEIRDESTT_BRF.html?_r=1&ref=books&oref=slogin">announced the winner</a> of the Diagram Prize: the award given to books with the weirdest title of the year. This year's award: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Want-Closure-Your-Relationship-Start/dp/B0013L8BOC/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206984427&sr=1-1">IF YOU WANT CLOSURE IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP, START WITH YOUR LEGS</a> by Big Boom. <br /><br />Now, I usually try hard not to be too sensitive when it comes to perceived offenses but... what the hell? Am I the only one who has a problem with this title? This sounds to me like the grossest kind of sexism - the kind that blames all relationship problems on the "oversexed" woman; the kind that absolves boys/men of their complicity in relationships gone bad. <br /><br />But maybe I'm being too sensitive. Maybe the book's title is merely poking fun at such destructive sexism. The synopsis on the inside flap of the book's cover begins, "After decades of preying on women as a pimp and a hustler, Big Boom knows all the games men play," and convinces me that Mr. Boom is, in fact, very serious. No satire to be found here, which is just what I suspected. <br /><br />Joel Rickett, deputy editor of The Bookseller magazine, said the title was "so effective...you don’t even need to read the book itself." Rickett just might just be on to something here.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-33638426234646576912008-03-28T15:00:00.008-05:002008-03-28T17:27:32.733-05:00The Megahearted George Saunders...<p style="font-style: italic;">On endings, beginnings, megaphones, essays, compassion, disgruntled dogs, immigration, and lonely bookmarks:<br /></p><p>Last week's <a href="http://btt2.wordpress.com/">Booking Through Thursday</a> question was:<br /></p><blockquote><p>You’ve just reached the end of a book . . . what do you do now? Savor and muse over the book? Dive right into the next one? Go take the dog for a walk, the kids to the park, before even thinking about the next book you’re going to read? What?</p> <p>(Obviously, there can be more than one answer, here–a book with a cliff-hanger is going to engender different reactions than a serene, stand-alone, but you get the idea!)</p></blockquote> <br /><br />I thought this question would be especially pertinent today since I finished a book last evening: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Braindead-Megaphone-George-Saunders/dp/159448256X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206737776&sr=1-1">THE BRAINDEAD MEGAPHONE</a> by George Saunders. What did I do after I finished it? Well, a number of things, actually. The first of which was to restrain myself from going back to page 1 and beginning all over again, which usually means I enjoyed myself a great deal. I did. On a very random whim - and I do mean random - I pulled this book from my shelf on Monday. It wasn't as if I didn't have other things to read, nor was it as if I wasn't already in the middle of reading five other books. But as it happens from time to time, this book started calling to me from the shelf and my lack of resistance when it comes to beckoning books is well-documented by now.<br /><br />For four nights and three days I engrossed myself in Saunders compassion, his empathy, his humorous prose, and his transparent love for and undying faith in humanity. Before I began this book, I already had a full-fledged literary crush on Saunders - now it's unabashed love. Any writer who can go from embodying the voice of a disgruntled dog contemplating biting off the "various hangie-down things" of his master because --<br /><br /><blockquote>There are times, deep in the night, when you have been "tippling" and/or "imbibing" and/or "getting pershnockered," when, perchance overwhelmed by joy (I hope it is joy, and not something darker), you shed your puzzling overskin and stand in the kitchen, moving hips and all, to that melange of painful-high-pitch and human squawling you call "Purple Rain." ("Woof: A Plea of Sorts")<br /></blockquote><br /><br />-- to putting human faces and human hearts on the "illegal alien crisis" --<br /><br /><blockquote>Tonight, America seems like the for-centuries-dreamed-of rescuer of the Little Guy, the place that takes a guy like Hector and puts some pounds on him, sets him on his feet, puts a spring in his step, and ends, forever, his flinching hustle for two-dollar hot dogs. But first he has to get here. ("The Great Divider")</blockquote><br /><br />-- this guy is a guy I can love. Saunders doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, he wears it in his writing, and it's our luck as readers that his writing is a great as his heart is big.<br /><br />Which is why as soon as I finished THE BRAINDEAD MEGAPHONE I wanted to read it all over again. But we all know I don't have time for that. Besides, getting back to my original discussion, the second thing I feel after I finish a book is that unquenchable curiosity - the driving force behind my passion for literature. After I've finished one book, I begin to wonder about all <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.avclub.com/content/files/images/Braindead-Megaphone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 252px;" src="http://www.avclub.com/content/files/images/Braindead-Megaphone.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>those other closed books sitting on my shelves that have yet to reveal their secrets - secrets that have the potential to be as awesome, or if I'm lucky even <span style="font-style:italic;">more </span>awesome, than the one I've just finished.<br /><br />So I did what I usually do when I suddenly have a bookmark without a home: I went scouting around for another. I didn't go very far at all. It went from Saunder's collection of essays to his collection of short stories: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Persuasion-Nation-George-Saunders/dp/B000S1KZR4/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206737821&sr=1-1">IN PERSUASION NATION</a>. To be fair, I started the stories long before I started the essays which was some time early last year. But I got bogged down, and the book got replaced with something else. But inspired, and on a Saunders high, I decided to give it a go again, and it's going much smoother now. The clear-sighted empathy I saw in his essays is not hard to find in his stories. I anticipate that in another week, I'll have added this to my "retired bookmarks" list as well.<br /><br />And that's where we are now. To sum: what do I do when I've just finished a book? I turn right around a read another. Or, if I'm really in a good mood, I'll start five.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Braindead-Megaphone-George-Saunders/dp/159448256X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206737776&sr=1-1">THE BRAINDEAD MEGAPHONE</a><br />by George Saunders<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Riverhead Trade / Sept. 2007</span><br />272 pgs.; $14.00J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-7144226912840523352008-03-28T08:30:00.007-05:002008-03-28T09:50:16.253-05:00Now 'N' Later Coveting...<span style="font-style: italic;">On prep schools, superstar English teachers, groupies, Michiko Kakutani, David Sedaris, flames, and impatience</span>:<br /><br />For some reason a few years ago I bought and read Tobias Wolff's short novel <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Old-School-Tobias-Wolff/dp/0375701494/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206711858&sr=1-2">OLD SCHOOL</a>. I'd never heard of him - or, more likely, I might have, and simply never paid much attention - nor had I heard of his book. But there was something about the New England prep school scholarship kid which caught my attention, and, as it happens with so many of the books I read, on a whim I picked it up, read it, and absolutely loved it.<br /><br />OLD SCHOOL is, among other things, a celebration of literature and the potential momentous effect it can have on our lives. In the prep school of Wolff's creation, the English teachers are superstars; according the narrator they were the only ones who knew "exactly what was most worth knowing." And as superstars often do, the English teachers have a core of student groupies, which includes the narrator. In addition to competing for the English teachers' attention, the students compete in annual writing contests for the chance at a private meeting with heavy-weight writers such as Earnest Hemingway and Ayn Rand (the novel is set in the 1960s).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6qf-6GPRmpWd6AfiuqVtzl21BUJS_CFBBQIpRLiUNfMosxOw7jG4nPEk62rPZXBumYUKdafvSD26BvrozxU166F4OLDUW7uuXRIR-7Sc62zUtilU5wY-en5miu70fQ_nJKU5dA/s1600-h/51HJP6IbwdL._SS500_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6qf-6GPRmpWd6AfiuqVtzl21BUJS_CFBBQIpRLiUNfMosxOw7jG4nPEk62rPZXBumYUKdafvSD26BvrozxU166F4OLDUW7uuXRIR-7Sc62zUtilU5wY-en5miu70fQ_nJKU5dA/s200/51HJP6IbwdL._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182803402697545746" border="0" /></a>I loved every aspect of this book, from the clear and concise prose, to the narrator's love affair with literature; from the humorous portrait of those famous writers who visit the school, to the growing maturity of the narrator not only as a reader but as a writer. All of this, and the book is only 200 pages.<br /><br />So naturally after having read this morning's <span style="font-style: italic;">NY Times</span> book section, and in particular Michiko Kakutani's review of Wolff's new collection of stories <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Our-Story-Begins-Selected-Stories/dp/1400044596/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206715568&sr=1-1">OUR STORY BEGINS</a>, I'm in full covet mode, wondering if I really want to wait for the paperback.<br /><br />Then again, I was already in covet mode when, on my way out of the door this morning, I happened to glance at this week's issue of the <span style="font-style: italic;">New Yorker</span>, and read this bit of info on the "Contributors" page:<br /><br /><blockquote>David Sedaris ("April & Paris," p. 38), has a new book of essays, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-You-Are-Engulfed-Flames/dp/0316143472/ref=pd_bbs_sr_4?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206711527&sr=8-4">When You Are Engulfed in Flames</a>," coming out in June.</blockquote><br />What's this? A new book? And I have to wait until June? Sigh, yet another reason summer can't come soon enough. But I greet the news of Sedaris' new book with a little worry because, since he writes regularly for the <span style="font-style: italic;">New Yorker</span> I fear I've already read many of the essays likely to be included in the new collection. Of course, my concern is moot because I'm buying it anyway. I'm just wishing I didn't have to wait so long.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-38198967917584842732008-03-27T14:14:00.014-05:002008-03-27T15:08:12.487-05:00Growing Up With Goosebumps...<span style="font-style:italic;">On R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series, long summer afternoons, sacred texts, Stephen King, and, of course, Harry Potter</span>:<br /><br />Was anyone else pleased by the <span style="font-style:italic;">NY Times</span>' article "<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/25/books/25stin.html?_r=1&ref=books&oref=slogin">Goosebumps Rises from the Literary Grave</a>"? This former R.L. Stine fan was anyway. The afternoons I spent fighting slimy monsters or conversing with aliens all from the comfort of my bed are too numerous to count and almost all courtesy of R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series. The occasion on which I handed those books over to my younger siblings was frankly ceremonial, attendant with solemn promises that they absolutely would NOT wet them, tear them, draw in them, get food on them or in way disrespect my former sacred texts of horror.<br /><br />I had, by this time, moved on much more scarier things than Stine's really only <span style="font-style:italic;">slightly </span>frightening Goosebumps series. Apparently, during the height of his popularity - a popularity I was completely unaware of until reading the <span style="font-style:italic;">Times </span>article 20 minutes ago - Stine was called the "Stephen King of children's literature." As a twelve year old, I must have thought so too since King is exactly what I started reading when I decided that evil ventriloquist dolls were just so <em>elementary.</em><br /><br />That doesn't mean, however, that I don't greet the news of Goosebumps' rebirth with not a little hint of nostalgia - and a bit of chagrined surprise since I wasn't aware Stine had stopped penning them in the first place. Which only goes to show just how completely I left the Goosebumps series behind when I decided to move on to more "adult" material.<br /><br />I don't know how well the new Goosebumps books will go over with this new generation of children, especially following the Harry Potter series, which I can admit has a more sophisticated plot and better character development than most of the Goosebumps books. But what Goosebumps lacked in sophistication it made up for in the kinds of scary thrills that come cheaply and most welcomely on long and hot summer afternoons. Those it did well. Even now, thirteen years later, I'm still not too old or sophisticated for cheap and scary thrills. I'd like to hope that a large portion of today's children aren't either.<br /><br />Stephen King wrote an <a href="http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20044270_20044274_20050689,00.html">interesting article</a> for <span style="font-style: italic;">Entertainment Weekly</span> some time ago on Harry Potter and his unacknowledged predecessors - the books by R.L. Stine.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-65852496752061993622008-03-27T13:23:00.004-05:002008-03-27T15:47:25.111-05:00What Novelists Strike?For those of you who missed this very funny article in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Onion</span>: <a href="http://www.theonion.com/content/news/novelists_strike_fails_to_affect">Novelists Strike Fails to Affect Nation Whatsoever</a> --<br /><blockquote><br />The strike kicked off last fall when the NGA announced it had hit a roadblock in negotiations with the Alliance of Printed Fiction and Literature Producers, failing to resolve certain key issues concerning online distribution, digital media rights, and readers just not getting what writers were trying to do with a number of important allegorical devices....<br /><br /><p>So far, sources say, no one has attempted to cross the picket lines, most of which are located in private homes. However, unconfirmed reports indicate that at least one novelist may be breaking the strike by writing under the pseudonym "Richard Bachman."</p> <p>"We must, as a people, achieve a resolution to this strike soon," novelist David Foster Wallace said at a rally Monday at Pomona College in Claremont, CA, where he is a professor. "The thought of this country being deprived of its only source of book-length fiction is enough to give one the howling fantods."</p> <p>"I thank you both for coming," he added...</p><p>"If this situation is not brought to a halt soon, it could have serious ramifications for, you know, literary culture, I guess," said Kyle Farmer, a Phoenix-area real estate consultant and avid golfer. "It would be tragic if we had to go a whole year without a new novel from Kurt Vonnegut or Norman Mailer," he added, unaware that both authors died in 2007.</p></blockquote><br />Wallace is right - I'd have the howling fantods if I was deprived of any new book-length fiction. Then again, I <span style="font-style: italic;">would </span>have time to read those previously published stacks of un-read books I have scattered around my apartment...J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-24471846139598994132008-03-27T09:34:00.012-05:002008-03-27T19:11:54.126-05:00Some Furry Confusion...<span style="font-style: italic;">On George Saunders' "The Perfect Gerbil" in </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Braindead-Megaphone-George-Saunders/dp/159448256X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206630689&sr=1-1">THE BRAINDEAD MEGAPHONE</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;">weird adult-sounding children, death, life and affirmations thereof</span><span style="font-style: italic;">:<br /><br /></span>In the blank space which follows the end of "The School" in my much-loved <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Scribner-Anthology-Contemporary-Short-Fiction/dp/1416532277/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1206628574&sr=1-1">SCRIBNER ANTHOLOGY OF CONTEMPORARY SHORT FICTION</a> (oh yea, marketing editors at Scriber, I am forever in your debt) I penciled in, "Uh...what?" An articulate expression of my confusion if ever there was one.<br /><br />After reading George Saunders' lovely and convincing argument for Donald Barthelme's "The School" I decided to revisit "The School" hoping that Saunder's essay would elucidate some of those items which I found particularly problematic.<br /><br />No such luck. While I do appreciate Barthelme's expert use of the "death" pattern in a way I hadn't before ("Mr. Lesser Writer...realizing with joy that he has a pattern to work with, sits down to do some Thinking. Barthelme proceeds in a more spontaneous, vaudevillian manner. He knows that the pattern is just an excuse for the real work of the story, which is to give the reader a series of pleasure-bursts."), the ending - oh the ending - still left me feeling as confused as ever.<br /><br />I mean really, what <em>is</em> up with those suddenly intelligent adult-talking children? What's up with the students asking the narrator to have sex with Helen, a heretofore unmentioned character, so they can watch? Okay, I probably get this one - sex is an affirmation of life in the face of death, but really, two paragraphs ago I was under the impression that this was a class of five year olds who used words like "mamas and papas" and now they're asking the narrator for a sophisticated affirmation of life? What's happening here? And finally, what's up with the walking and knocking gerbil - the development which really left me scratching my head?<br /><br />Saunders writes, the ending is "ambiguous, and it is funny, and somehow perfect: this little expectant rodent, politely waiting for its knock to be answered, all set to die, or to live. We, like the children, 'cheer wildly.'"<br /><br />Hold up there, Saunders. I'm probably just being slow here, but while you're cheering I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that last furry paragraph. What purpose does the gerbil serve other than simply being the unexpected? Why does it exhibit anthropomorphic qualities that the other dead animals hadn't? For the life of me, I can't figure it out. Beyond thinking it exciting, Saunders doesn't seem to have much to say on the matter either.<br /><br />Having said all that, I do agree that "The School" is good at doing what it does - giving us those little "pleasure-bursts" of excitement and unpredictability. I only wish a bit more had been given over to explication.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-82846071474362876642008-03-26T12:04:00.004-05:002008-03-26T12:39:57.076-05:00Gassing Up a Story...<blockquote>When I was a kid I had one of these Hot Wheels devices designed to look like a little gas station. Inside the gas station were two spinning rubber wheels. One's little car would weakly approach the gas station, then be sent around the track or, more often, fly out and hit one's sister in the face.<br /><br />A story can be thought of as a series of these little gas stations. The main point is to get the reader around the track; that is, to the end of the story. Any other pleasures a story may offer (theme, character, moral uplift) are dependent upon this.</blockquote><br />-- <span style="font-weight:bold;">George Saunders</span> on Donald Barthelme's short story "The School." <br /><br />I read "The School" myself the first time a few months ago, and upon first reading I must say I wasn't that impressed. But Saunders' argument that "The School" perfectly exemplifies his gas station theory prompts me to take a second look. Mayhap there's something I missed the first time around.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-81269423007604860142007-07-04T17:38:00.000-05:002007-07-04T17:43:29.258-05:00Looking for Me?If you are, you've come to the wrong place. Blogspot and I have, sadly, parted ways. I can now be found at my new address <a href="http://baddict.wordpress.com">BiblioAddict</a>. And if you've a brave, adventurous soul, I can also be found at <a href="http://maniacscribblings">Scribblings of a Maniac Writer</a>. See you on the other side.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-90408188626751508882007-05-21T21:34:00.000-05:002007-05-21T21:54:49.758-05:00Goodbye & Goodnight...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.w3.org/2000/Talks/www9-annotations/wave.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.w3.org/2000/Talks/www9-annotations/wave.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After several sleepless and indecisive nights (well, only two really), I've decided to retire my blogspot account and move my BiblioAddict bags elsewhere. This blog has served me well, so it makes me a bit sad to leave, but I think that my new address will better fit my needs. I won't sob or reminisce about the good ole' times but I will say goodbye to each empty room, maybe carve my name into the boards beneath the stairs, and then slip my keys into the mailbox...Now I'm off to my new digs! I really like it, I hope you do too. See you there! And don't forget to bring a bottle of wine!! Click on the new <a href = "http://baddict.wordpress.com">BiblioAddict</a> and meet me there!J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-1206505000057375092007-05-20T19:59:00.000-05:002007-05-20T20:20:30.984-05:00A Double-Whammy!<a href="http://www.magazine.org/Editorial/40-40-covers/17.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.magazine.org/Editorial/40-40-covers/17.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Well it appears I've been hit again, this time by Matt at <a href = "http://varietyofwords.wordpress.com/">A Variety of Words</a>. But this one is really fun too! Here are the rules: “You simply have to grab the book nearest to you (no cheating here), turn to page 161, and post the text of the fifth full sentence on the page along with the body of the instruction on your blog. Then you tag 3 people.” Sitting right here, next to my computer is the book I've been trying desperately to finish by the end of the month for the New Notions 5 challenge - <em>The Shakespeare Riots</em> by Nigel Cliff:<br /><blockquote>He found him in his usual seat in the upper boxes, fixed his eyes on him, gritted his teeth, and asked if he was the writer of the article in his paper.<br />-- <em>page 161, fifth full sentence</em></blockquote><br />Wow, I think that's pretty good for a random sentence. I'm feeling pretty lazy this Sunday evening, so I'm going to take a page out of <a href = "http://somanybooksblog.com/">Stefanie's</a> book and tell you that if you're reading this post, consider yourself tagged!J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-66823671117384598312007-05-19T14:45:00.000-05:002007-05-20T16:11:00.566-05:00A New NeighborhoodI'm thinking about packing up my BiblioAddict bags and heading to a different neighborhood. Head over to <a href = "http://litwonderbread.wordpress.com/">this address</a>, look in the closets, scope out the piping and the lighting and tell me what you think...J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-20411172190899782322007-05-18T10:35:00.001-05:002007-05-18T10:57:46.482-05:00And a Box of Cookies Please...Here, have a little laugh on this dreary Friday (at least where I am)...<br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZJlkplvYdgA"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZJlkplvYdgA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-54111699230726265022007-05-16T09:54:00.000-05:002007-05-17T16:07:07.661-05:00"Prescribed Reading"...While God and “militant atheists” are duking it out on the bookshelves (see Anthony Gottlieb’s <a href = "http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2007/05/21/070521crbo_books_gottlieb">"Atheists with Attitude"</a> in the <em>New Yorker</em>), Jerome Groopman, author of <em>How Doctors Think</em>, argues in the <em>NY Times</em> article <a href = "http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/13/books/review/Groopman-t.html?ref=books">"Prescribed Reading"</a> that for medical students looking to learn about the more existential aspects of their profession - the miracle of birth or the specter of death - the Bible would be a good place to start. He writes:<br /><blockquote>Each spring, I address these nonscientific dimensions of medicine with 12 freshmen at Harvard College in a seminar called “Insights From Narratives of Illness.” We read about a dozen works, from short stories by Turgenev to Samuel Shem’s Rabelaisian hospital novel “The House of God.” The students are generally surprised to learn how the experience of illness touches every corner of human emotion and behavior. But they are even more surprised to discover that even as they read the assigned books, they are often reading, in the background, one of the world’s oldest books. That book is the Bible. Whether read as revealed truth or as a literary work, the Bible is a sourcebook of human psychology and an enduring inspiration for authors trying to capture the drama and dilemmas of medicine.</blockquote><br />I think Groopman’s argument for the Bible as an essential sourcebook to which medical students should turn is interesting but, it seems to me, he makes a better case for <em>all</em> literature as required reading for pre-med students rather than simply the Bible. Groopman writes, <br /><blockquote>The seminar begins with the Tolstoy novella “The Death of Ivan Ilyich.”...We move on to Turgenev, Chekhov and Kafka before reaching Richard Selzer’s “Letters to a Young Doctor,” a set of autobiographical essays first published in 1982...Later in the semester we shift to New Age writing, examining the message of books like the surgeon Bernie Siegel’s “Love, Medicine and Miracles” and, new this spring, Rhonda Byrne’s “The Secret,” the runaway best seller that asserts you can solve all your problems, including “eradicating disease,” by correctly aligning your thoughts and aspirations...This semester, the class will end with a short novel that can be seen as a modern-day “Ivan Ilyich,” Philip Roth’s “Everyman.” </blockquote><br />Such a wide-range of authors and style, seems to prove more than anything that <em>literature</em>, of which the Bible is merely a part, is the means through which, as Groopman says, pre-med students can engage “life’s existential mysteries: the miraculous moment of birth, the jarring exit at death, the struggle to find meaning in suffering.”J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-518285783821776082007-05-15T17:38:00.000-05:002007-05-16T08:03:12.762-05:00I've Been Hit!...Well it appears that I've been hit by a meme for the very first time by Sam Houston at <a href = "http://bookchase.blogspot.com/">Book Chase</a>. As Sam said, this does seem like a good way to get to know each other better, so I'm in. As such, I am charged with these rules for the "8 Things Meme":<br /><a href="http://mobilecrunch.com/wp-content/smoking%20gun.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://mobilecrunch.com/wp-content/smoking%20gun.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><blockquote>The rules -<br />1: Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.<br />2: People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.<br />3: At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names.<br />4: Don't forget to leave them a comment and tell them they're tagged, and to read your blog.</blockquote><br />So, first things first - my 8 things:<br /><br />1. I'm the oldest of seven children.<br /><br />2. I'm a trial clerk for the US Tax Court, located in Washington, D.C. (no we're not a division of the IRS and no, I can't give you advice on how to do your taxes. Trust me, you wouldn't want me to).<br /><br />3. My favorite foods are buffalo wings, macaroni and cheese, and chicken fettuccini with broccoli (conveniently, these are the only three things I'm good at cooking).<br /><br />4. I was born and raised in St. Louis, MO and, though it will always be home, I have a very strong aversion to ever living in the Midwest again (the reasons are too numerous and convoluted to enumerate. No offense to those of you who live in and love the Midwest).<br /><br />5. I've never broken or fractured a bone in my body, except for my right middle finger, which I stuck into the crack of large school door when I was in kindergarten; it is now crooked at the first knuckle.<br /><br />6. My favorite pieces of clothing are old, worn tee-shirts softened by a thousand washes and five sizes too big.<br /><br />7. My first month in Japan, I ran into a moving car with my bicycle and drank an entire can of flavored Japanese beer in under five seconds before I realized that it wasn't orange soda as I'd originally assumed.<br /><br />8. One of my most embarrassing moments in high school - and they are many - was when I stood up at a football game and yelled out, quite clearly I must add, "Home Run!" <br /><br />Well, that's me and now for those who are getting hit:<br /><br />1. Stefanie over at <a href = "http://somanybooksblog.com/">So Many Books</a><br /><br />2. Historia over at <a href = "http://bibliobiography.blogspot.com/index.html">BiblioHistoria</a><br /><br />3. The Traveller at <a href = "http://booktraveller.blogspot.com/">Around the World in 100 Books</a><br /><br />4. Brandon at <a href = "http://www.brandonvon.com/">Bookstorm</a><br /><br />5. SPF at <a href = "http://www.pagesturned.blogspot.com/">Pages Turned</a><br /><br />6. Gentle Reader at <a href = "http://shelflifeblog.blogspot.com/">Shelf Life</a><br /><br />7. Eva over at <a href = "http://astripedarmchair.blogspot.com/">A Striped Armed Chair</a><br /><br />...and that's it. Yes, I know the rules called for tagging <em>eight</em> people but everyone else whose blog I read on a regular basis has already been tagged! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to notify my victims...J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-73852957895362085242007-05-15T11:14:00.000-05:002007-05-15T12:26:54.817-05:00From Blog to Book...Zoe Margolis over at the <em>Guardian Unlimited</em> <a href = "http://books.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,2079793,00.html">wonders</a> if publishers aren't looking to blogs for their next best-sellers enough: <br /><blockquote><strong>Yesterday's announcement of this year's winners of the award for blogs turned into books, the Lulu Blooker prize, would have us believe that many publishers are perusing blogs with the aim of adapting them into books. The website eagerly claims, "Traditional publishing houses, ever in search of the next big name author, have begun to mine blogs and websites for new talent...<br /><br />According to the Blooker site, books based on blogs are "the world's fastest- growing new kind of book ... a new hybrid literary form". Yet last year, the first year of the award, there were 89 blogs-to-books entered for the Blooker prize. This year it's still only around 100. That doesn't seem to support the idea that every publisher and their dog is jumping on the bandwagon - I think it'll be a while before publishers treat bloggers with the same regard as authors. But perhaps not for that much longer: with a plethora of blogs showcasing good writing to a book-buying public, what publisher doesn't want to utilise a ready-made audience for their book?</strong></blockquote><br />Ms. Margolis, having had her own blog published into a book, certainly seems to support authors making the leap from blog to book. And she certainly makes a good point when she argues against the "inverted snobbery" of publishers who believe that anything written on a blog must inherently be of bad quality. However, the case that Margolis makes for blogs...<br /><blockquote><strong>Unlike a book, a blog allows instant feedback. Readers can send in comments immediately upon reading a blog post. This can then initiate a dialogue between writer and reader that is both interactive and productive. Blogging is not writing in a private vacuum, rather it's about putting your thoughts into a public space and finding out what people think of them instantly. This can assist the writer in terms of developing their ideas: it forces you to write succinctly and with focus. While I'm not suggesting it is solely readers' input that makes blogs worthy of being published, I do think the interactivity and open access of blogging is what can make it so enjoyable for both writer and reader.</strong></blockquote><br />...could be construed as argument as for why blogs shouldn't be translated into books at all. I'm unsure how I feel about publishers surfing the blogosphere searching for the next Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist. On the one hand, certainly some bloggers are writing the kind of posts which would translate well into a memoir of sorts or a collection of essays. But, on the other hand, I think of blogs as an ongoing conversation and, for this reader at least, turning a blog into a books seems a lot like publishing one side of a telephone conversation.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-70737616343626343542007-05-15T07:30:00.000-05:002007-05-15T09:21:36.339-05:00Reading For the Ole' Red, White, and Blue<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.photohome.com/pictures/flag-pictures/american-flag-2a.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.photohome.com/pictures/flag-pictures/american-flag-2a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The Miami Herald <a href = "http://www.miamiherald.com/776/story/106346.html">asks</a> presidential candidates what last work of fiction they read:<br /><blockquote><strong>DEMOCRATS</strong><br /><br />Delaware Sen. Joe Biden: "Runaway Jury" by John Grisham.<br /><br />New York Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton: "Team of Rivals" by Doris Kearns Goodwin<br /><br />Connecticut Sen. Chris Dodd: "The Broker" by John Grisham.<br /><br />Former North Carolina Sen. John Edwards: "Exile" by Richard North Patterson.<br /><br />Ohio Rep. Dennis Kucinich: "Einstein's Dreams" by Alan Lightman.<br /><br />Illinois Sen. Barack Obama: "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson.<br /><br />New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson: "The administration's energy plan."<br /><br /><strong>REPUBLICANS</strong><br /><br />Kansas Sen. Sam Brownback: "The Dream Giver" by Bruce Wilkinson with David and Heather Kopp.<br /><br />Former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani: "The Beach House" by James Patterson and Peter De Jonge.<br /><br />Former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee: "My oldest son's screenplay."<br /><br />California Rep. Duncan Hunter: "The Democrats' proposal to balance the budget."<br /><br />Arizona Sen. John McCain: "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway.<br /><br />Former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney: "Term Limits" by Vince Flynn.<br /><br />Colorado Rep. Tom Tancredo: "An Inconvenient Truth" by Al Gore.</blockquote><br />I'm not going to take the obvious potshots at those Grisham and Patterson readers - hey, to each his own right? Right. I will say that I'm most impressed with Obama's read. Perhaps, the <em>Miami Herald</em> will next ask the candidates what they thought of their reads. Now <em>that</em> would be interesting reading.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-27758453454856719152007-05-14T16:17:00.000-05:002007-05-14T16:53:55.208-05:00The Long Arm of the Librarian Law...<a href="http://www.theduncansonline.com/elderstatesman/images/missing_books_cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.theduncansonline.com/elderstatesman/images/missing_books_cover.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />From the first chapter of <em>The Case of the Missing Books</em> by Ian Sansom, the first book in a series about a mobile librarian detective:<br /><blockquote>There is a terrible poignancy about a building intended for the public that is closed to the public: it feels like an insult, a reposte to all our more generous instincts, the public polity under threat, and democracy abandoned. Back home in London, Israel had always found the sight of Brent Cross shopping centre at night depressing enough, and his girlfriend Gloria, her family's swimming pool when it was drained in the winter, but the sight of the big red-brick library with its dark windows affected him more deeply, in the same way that the sign of a derelict school might affect a teacher, or an empty restaurant a chef: a clear sign of the impending collapse of civilisation and the inevitable bankruptcy, a reminder never to count your chickens, or to overspend on refurbishments and cutlery. No one likes to see a shut library.</blockquote><br />Ah, very true. I personally think that shut libraries will be the seventh sign marking the end of the world. On a related note, just when I forget that truth is always stranger than fiction, I come across this little tidbit in an article entitled "Mobile Library Helps Extend the Long Arm of the Law" from <a href = "http://www.gazetteandherald.co.uk/news/headlines/display.var.1396991.0.mobile_library_helps_extend_the_long_arm_of_the_law.php"><em>The Gazette & Hearld</em></a>:<br /><blockquote>Sam Walsh, a police community support officer based at Cricklade police station, has already travelled with the mobile library on two occasions on a route to the west of the town. The partnership enables people to get advice and help from the police while picking up the latest bestseller and it is proving popular.</blockquote><br />There's somthing screwily funny about this. Shall I keep my joke ("Officer! Officer! There's a man robbing my house...But, can I check out this book first, please?") to myself? Yeah, I'll keep it.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-904729895171339962007-05-12T11:40:00.000-05:002007-05-13T10:13:54.762-05:00The Final Solution, Final<a href="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/10470000/10473045.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/10470000/10473045.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />by <strong>Michael Chabon</strong><br /><em>Harper Perennial / Nov. 2005</em><br /><br />I feel odd and a bit behind the times by reviewing Michael Chabon’s novella <em>The Final Solution</em> when all of the rest of the world is reading and reviewing his new full-length novel <em>The Yiddish Policemen’s Union</em>, released on May 1st. But I’m always behind the times (just ask the friend to whom I said a year ago, “Have you heard of this new thing called the <em>iPod</em>? It’s amazing!” I’m young enough where I should wake up just <em>knowing</em> these kinds of things). But I accepted my unfashionable fate long ago, so: <em>The Final Solution</em>. <br /><br />It is the summer of a year sometime during World War II, and an old man whom we assume to be Sherlock Holmes spots a young boy with a parrot on his shoulder standing dangerously close to the rail road tracks. We soon learn that, between the boy, an orphan from Nazi-occupied Germany, and his African grey parrot, the parrot is the only one who can speak, rattling off a cryptic series of German numbers. So begins the mystery of <em>The Final Solution</em>. What do the numbers mean? Are they top secret SS-codes or access codes to Swiss bank accounts? And, after the parrot is stolen, who would take the bird and why? And what unspeakable experience lies behind the boy's inablility (or unwillingness?) to speak? <br /><br />Such a mystery is fit for only the greatest detective ever known to the continent. But does a man whose sharp wit and predatory intelligence helped him solve even the most impossible cases still possess that same mental agility now that he’s reached the dottering old age of eighty-nine? Among many things, <em>The Final Solution</em> is a contemplation on the passage of time and how even the most heroic of us can’t hold back the inevitability of old age. Chabon’s old Sherlock, a Sherlock who’s tilting toward dementia, is as tragic to see as it was to see Christopher Reeves, the original Superman, consigned to a wheel chair. Hot on the pursuit of a lead, “the old man” finds himself outside of a locked bird store on a Monday:<br /><blockquote>The old man stood with spittle on his cheek…The light went out from his eyes. “A Monday,” said the old man sadly. “I ought to have foreseen this.”<br />“Perhaps you might have rung in advance,” Mr. Panicker said. “Made an appointment with this Black chap.”<br />“No doubt,” the old man said. He lowered his stick to the pavement and then, sagging, leaned heavily upon it. “In my haste I…” He wiped at his cheek with the back of a hand. “Such practical considerations seem to lie beyond my…” He lurched forward, and Mr. Panicker caught his arm, and this time the old man failed to shrug him off. His eyes stared as if blindly at the unanswering face of the shop, his face inhabited only by a hint of elderly alarm.</blockquote><br />In a perfect world our heroes would never die; never grow old, but in that world we would always be a step removed from our heroes. The younger Sherlock, with his uncanny powers of deduction, was a man whom we could admire but, I suspect that most readers – or at least <em>this</em> reader– didn’t relate as much to Sherlock Holmes as they did to Dr. Watson, who seemed, in his confusion and awe, much more fragilely human than his super sleuth companion. In the <em>The Final Solution</em>, this super sleuth is brought down to ground and is now suffering from the kryptonite of old age. It’s a little sad to see, but Chabon has made Sherlock Holmes a much more sympathetic character, and he handles it with such deftness and respect – love, even – that you have to thank him for it.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-85941284877931073002007-05-11T09:07:00.000-05:002007-05-11T22:26:02.627-05:00Bringing the Rain...This is the very first book I fell in love with, <em><strong>Bringing the Rain to Kapiti Plain</strong></em> by Verna Aardema. I remember being six and harassing my mother as I asked her how to pronounce those secret words that went with the beautiful glossy pictures. I memorized every line. By the time I saw this on "The Reading Rainbow," I could narrate it word-for-word along with James Earl Jones. (<em>Sigh</em>) They just don't make tv like they used to anymore, do they? What was the first book you remember falling in love with?<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jM5WX1uFbUI"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jM5WX1uFbUI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />And if you're looking for a great laugh, see this other hilarious <a href = "http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOBDEhxd_WU">Reading Rainbow clip</a>. When was the last time you heard a rap song about reading? Someone posted in the comments, "Ha, ha. You'd think reading was gangsta (<em>a.k.a. "hip," "cool," or "fashionable" - take your pick</em>)." My response: reading <em>is</em> gangsta.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-74283097950883290432007-05-10T12:34:00.000-05:002007-05-11T07:52:56.874-05:00Prosthetic Shoulders for the Book-Needy<a href="http://www.02138mag.com/asset/466.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.02138mag.com/asset/466.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Last Sunday, I flew to Houston, Texas (work again) and I decided that, although I was scheduled to be there for two weeks, I would pack light. This meant that, instead of bringing my super-large, heavy duty suitcase, I would bring my light, compact carry-on, which I would then "check" because the bad thing about leaving ole' Heavy Duty at home is that there isn't any room to pack any of my books. Luckily, I have a heavy duty bag/tote which provides ample room (probably <em>too much</em> room) for all of my books, magazines, wallet and all other feminine purse things which somehow find their way to being carried around on my shoulder. Imagine this list of books and magazines I thought it wise to put in my bag:<br /><blockquote><em>Big, Fat, American Baby</em> by Judy Budnitz<br /><em>Then We Came to the End</em> by Joshua Ferris<br /><em>How to Read Like a Writer</em> by Francine Prose<br /><em>Heat</em> by Bill Buford<br /><em>The Complete Plays of Christopher Marlowe</em> by Christopher Marlowe<br /><em>The Final Solution</em> by Michael Chabon<br /><em>The Shakespeare Riots</em> by Nigel Cliff</blockquote>Did I mention all of these were hardback? They were. Not to mention:<br /><blockquote>the current <em>Bookforum</em><br />an old issue of <em>The New York Times Review of Books</em><br />and...I'm counting...four old issues of <em>The New Yorker</em></blockquote><br />Not so bad, right? Sure, I was struggling but I'd rather lug around seven books than to leave one behind only to discover that <em>that</em> one is the book I'd rather to be reading on the plane. The problem with this arrangement is that I never leave room for books that I might likely buy while I'm away. I buy books at the airport. I can't help it. Even as I'm leaning over, almost buckling from the weight of my bag, those airport bookstores just beacon me (<em>Hey you. Yeah, you with the big bag of books. Come and see what I've got. Come on, you've got time to kill. It never hurts to look, right?</em>) <br /><br /><a href="http://www.bbcaudiobooksamerica.com/client/products/ProdimageLg/746881.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.bbcaudiobooksamerica.com/client/products/ProdimageLg/746881.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>I don't usually pick anything up because the selection is often very poor (<em>New York Times</em> Top 10 bestsellers, eh, I'm not often very interested) but this week I had the misfortune of coming across some very well-stocked airport bookstores, one of which happened to be independently owned. So in addition to the seven books I was already carrying, I bought four more books - that's right, <em>four</em> more books. I bought two on the way to Houston and two more coming back:<blockquote><em><a href ="http://www.amazon.com/Persuasion-Nation-George-Saunders/dp/159448242X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-8678229-4171011?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1178821473&sr=1-1"><br />In Persuasion Nation</a></em> by George Saunders<br /><a href = "http://www.amazon.com/Reluctant-Fundamentalist-Mohsin-Hamid/dp/0151013047/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-2213568-0137769?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1178844689&sr=1-1"><em>The Reluctant Fundamentalist</em></a> by Mohsin Hamid<br /><a href = "http://www.amazon.com/Special-Topics-Calamity-Physics-Marisha/dp/0143112120/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-2213568-0137769?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1178844786&sr=1-1"><em>Special Topics in Calamity Physics</em></a> by Marisha Pessl<br /><a href = "http://www.amazon.com/Absurdistan-Novel-Gary-Shteyngart/dp/0812971671/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-2213568-0137769?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1178844849&sr=1-1"><em>Absurdistan</em></a> by Gary Shteyngart</blockquote><br />So there I was dragging myself through the airport in Houston carrying <em>eleven</em> books. The gentleman I sat next to on the plane looked at me as I jammed my grotesquely large bag under the seat in front of me, looked at my books, looked at me again as I opened the book I had in my hand - I was reading my first chapter of <em>Special Topics in Calamity Physics</em> - smiled and asked the question I get all the time: "So you're a student, huh?" <br /><br />"No," I say with a smile. "I just like to read <em>a lot</em>." He blinked once, twice, shook his head (probably wondering why <em>he</em> had to sit next to the crazy book lady), then returned to the nice, <em>single</em> paperback he'd slipped into the seat pocket. I envied his leg space and his probably un-aching shoulder. But on the almost three hour flight from Houston to D.C. he only had a choice between one book and sleep. <em>I</em>, however, had eleven choices <em>plus</em> sleep. That's worth the prosthetic shoulder I'll probably need after my right shoulder falls off.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-9368359673782604102007-05-08T22:54:00.000-05:002007-05-08T23:05:45.077-05:00A Sumptuous Meal...In Chapter 5 of Francine Prose’s <em>How to Write Like a Writer</em>, she writes:<br /><blockquote>All this should begin to give us an idea of the different options available when a writer is choosing to write a story from a particular point of view, or when, as more often seems to be the case, the story is choosing the point of view from which it wishes to be written. To speak as if there were two major points of view - first and third - is like saying that the only thing we need to know in order to prepare and enjoy a delicious multicourse dinner is that there are five basic food groups.</blockquote><br />I’m a quarter of the way through Joshua Ferris’ debut novel <em>Then We Came to the End</em> and already I know I’m sitting in the kitchen of a five-star master chef:<br /><blockquote>While waiting for Lynn to arrive, we killed time listening to Chris Yop tell us the story of Tom Mota’s chair. We loved killing time and had perfected several ways of doing so. We wandered the hallways carrying papers that indicated some mission of business when in reality we were in search of free candy. We refilled our coffee mugs on floors we didn’t belong on. Hank Neary was an avid reader. He arrived early in his brown corduroy coat with a book taken from the library, copied all its pages on the Xerox machine, and sat at his desk reading what looked to passerby like the honest pages of business.</blockquote><br />And this is a gorgeously decadent slice of pecan pie (I’m <em>real</em> partial to pecan pie):<br /><blockquote>Jim made us wince with awkwardness, but we winced for <em>his</em> sake. Joe Poe’s awkwardness caused an entirely different brand of wincing and it was hard to put a finger on. “ ‘He was not only awkwardness in himself,’ ” declared our own poetaster Hank Neary, “ ‘but the cause that was awkwardness in other men.’ ” And like always, we had no earthly clue what Hank was talking about. Unless he meant to say that Joe Pope’s presence made <em>us</em> feel awkward. That was very true. Joe felt no obligation to speak. He would greet and be greeted like a normal human being, but beyond that he remained brazenly, stoically silent. Even in a meeting or a conference call, the man could let long episodes of silence fill the room while he was thinking of what he wanted to say, without hemming and hawing nervously in order to fill the oppressive silence bearing down upon us all. Perhaps that could be called composure, but it made the rest of us uneasy, so much so that Hank, determined to get it right, returned with a second quote pulled form his infinite lode of worthless erudition - “ ‘He inspired uneasiness. That was it! Uneasiness! Not a definite mistrust - just uneasiness - nothing more.’ ” - and when that quote went from one of us to the other via e-mail, we congratulated Hank on finally saying something comprehensible. Uneasiness. That was it precisely.</blockquote>J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-10383679484419855152007-05-07T22:00:00.000-05:002007-05-13T13:00:22.933-05:00The Testament of Gideon Mack, Final<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnkGGRg4fcNJZiOVGcu4ubLgs-sO64HiRztW_K19M58KpTSkOgH3XY8G2xoAtTzxCBlWtD7T7FEwPasjEuamzCNOgtWgAFMmsuEffS_wUEMcqDLDnIL7dQ5iUnuyeNMKdG5LJXg/s1600-h/GideonPic2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnkGGRg4fcNJZiOVGcu4ubLgs-sO64HiRztW_K19M58KpTSkOgH3XY8G2xoAtTzxCBlWtD7T7FEwPasjEuamzCNOgtWgAFMmsuEffS_wUEMcqDLDnIL7dQ5iUnuyeNMKdG5LJXg/s200/GideonPic2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062051277828985074" /></a><br />by <strong>James Robertson</strong><br /><em>Penguin Group/March 2007</em><br /><blockquote>"What can this work be? Can it be anything other than the ramblings of a mind terminally damaged by a cheerless upbringing, an unfulfilled marriage, unrequited love, religious confusion and the stress and injury or a near-fatal accident? Who would dare, in this day and age, to suggest that Gideon Mack was, as he maintained to the end, telling the truth?"</blockquote><br />So wonders the fictional, reluctant publisher of Gideon Mack’s memoir. <em>Can</em> it be the truth? Can a man who claims to have met and befriended the Devil be anything other than insane? The pleasure in reading <em>The Testament of Gideon Mack</em> is that even as you turn the final page, you’re not quite sure. This novel is full of slight tricks of hand. They begin, not with the mysterious appearance of a standing rock, but with Robertson’s introduction of this fictional publisher. This very effective literary device forces us to consider the extraordinary (perhaps supernatural?) circumstances that occur in and around Gideon’s life in the context of the real world. By doing so, he ensures that Gideon Mack’s testament is not easily dismissed. He forces us to share in the publisher’s own confusion: an inclination to disbelieve something so fantastic which battles the desire to entertain, at least, the possibility.<br /><br />Is it a coincidence that this struggle between belief and disbelief is similar to the one many experience when it comes to the subject of religion? Indeed Gideon, an atheist minister, is the very embodiment of this struggle. But what makes Gideon, this lonely and desperate man, the hero of his own memoir is that, when confronted with the empirical proof of the existence of the supernatural -that is, if we accept Gideon’s own testimony, the veracity of which is highly debatable - he unhesitatingly believes. How many of us would have the courage to do that? How many of us wouldn’t dope ourselves up with the latest anti-depressant and check ourselves into a mental hospital after we recall memories of having spent three days in the company of a man whom we believe to be the Devil? To not only accept that as a reality but to also share that truth with the entire world makes you either very, very brave or very, very crazy. Robertson leaves it up to you to decide which.<br /><br />But, like any great magician, he doesn’t make it easy. If the standing rock is real why doesn’t it appear on film? If it isn’t real why is Elsie, Gideon’s friend and lover, able to see it? <em>Did</em> she see it? After confessing to having seen the mythical stone, Elsie mentally backtracks:<blockquote>”I <em>think</em> I saw it..That’s all I have from that night - a maybe. I <em>might</em> have seen it. That’s not enough. It’s not real.”<br />“So what’s real?” I said.</blockquote> The “I” in this quote could very easily be Robertson asking us that very same question. What <em>is</em> real? If you’re an agnostic waiting for that empirical proof to make your final decision, how would you define it? The supernatural and the miraculous, by their very definition, don’t follow the laws of nature - at least not as we currently understand them. The supernatural can appear one day and disappear the next; was it real?<br /><br />But even as we begin to consider such high-minded philosophical concepts such as the definition of reality, we’re never for one moment allowed to forget that it is all grounded on the crumbling pie crust of one man’s testimony. It isn’t even ever clear that the man whom Gideon believes saved his life is really the Devil. The Devil clearly never identifies himself as such. Instead, he’s sardonic and enigmatic, never answering a pointed question, leaving Gideon (and us) to draw our own conclusions. It says something about our main character that, when confronted with a supernatural being, he assumes him to be the Devil based on little or no proof. Perhaps it says too, something about ourselves and about what we choose to believe of this “man” dressed in black, who steals boots and lives a despairing existence in a cave with junkyard furniture. <br /><br />This reader has her own suspicions about who this Devil actually is but, for now, I’ll keep them to myself since I haven’t quite found a way to make all the pieces fit (two days and counting - I’m still working on it and having a grand ole’ time). <em>The Testament of Gideon Mack</em> is at heart a mystery and it’s likely to leave you with more questions than answers. But that’s not entirely true. <em>The Testament of Gideon Mack</em>, like any great scripture, supplies all the pieces; <em>you</em> just have to decide what picture it makes.J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-8125081210508229692007-05-06T11:04:00.000-05:002007-05-06T11:06:50.069-05:00Saturday Morning Cartoons...On SundayIf you haven't already, please, oh please check out the <a href = "http://www.bookninja.com/">Weekend Extras</a> over at Book Ninja. Cha-booooon!J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38268033.post-68365605772219595582007-05-06T09:59:00.000-05:002007-05-06T10:53:20.798-05:00So Bad It's GoodJoe Queenan at the NY Times <a href = "http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/06/books/review/Queenan.t.html?ref=review">defends</a> the pleasure in reading incredibly bad books: <br /><blockquote>Bad books have an important place in our lives, because they keep the brain active. We spend so much time wondering what incredibly dumb thing the author will say a few pages down the road. One caveat: As with bad movies, a book that is merely bad but not exquisitely bad is a waste of time, while a genuinely terrible book is a sheer delight. This is what made the late, great Mickey Spillane so memorable: he never tried to write poor man’s Raymond Chandler books like Robert Parker; he wrote pure trash. I feel the same way about those “Loins of Telemachus” or “Cuirass of the Myrmidons” books that retell famous stories from the point of view of a marginal character. The dumber, the merrier.</blockquote>Speaking of wonderfully bad movies, anyone remember "Snakes on a Plane?"...J.S. Peytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13705348798562789906noreply@blogger.com2