Glow starts as the story of one woman
and her daughter, caught in the danger of organizing a civil rights protest. It
spirals outward to connect characters over hundreds of miles and several
generations, using multiple narrators from the present and past to span the gap. Willie is the brightest part of the story and by far my favorite
narrator, despite her introduction as a minor character. Her chapters are electric,
encompassing some of the most heartbreaking and earnestly happy scenes in the
book. All the other narrators expertly tell their own stories in engaging
voices, except for one, who was so verbose I would often get lost, but only one
chapter is from his point of view. Glow deals with the complex spectrum of early
American racism, showcasing characters who are slaves, Native Americans, people
of mixed parentage, or children of immigrants. It’s a painful and wistfully
beautiful book with a heavy dash of the supernatural.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Virgin Soul by Judy Juanita
“God, San Francisco was such a thief. A lady of the night, a
sorceress with her hands out...we had to pay to get in, pay to get out, pay for
every little thing. ... Pay for the Pacific Ocean and the beach. I am
expensive, the city always said, so pay me for my wonderful dark treats..."
Virgin Soul is set in the San Francisco of the 1960s, a
tumultuous time and place in American history and, unfortunately, not one I
know much about. I procrastinated on this review a bit because what can I possibly
say about its accuracy or its authenticity? I have a feeling I wasn’t as
emotionally connected to the actual people and events in the books as I should
have been, because I couldn’t tell what was real and what was fiction until I
looked it up later. But I can tell you the driving force of this novel for me
is the heroine’s frank, simple appeal. I was on her side as soon as she peed in
the elevator of a decadent clothing boutique. I can tell you the book made San Francisco
seem like a hungry living thing and the narrator’s voice gives the whole story an electric feeling like something big is always about to
happen. And I can say I found common ground with Geniece’s big ideas, the same
I think any progressive kid from college would even if they came from a different
background.
Although I don’t have much of a context to fit this story into, I appreciated the
issues Geniece faces and the chance to read about the beginning of the black
power movement.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards by Kristopher Jansma
“As early as he can remember, the hopelessly unreliable- yet
hopelessly earnest- narrator of this remarkable debut novel has wanted to
become a writer.
From the jazz clubs of Manhattan to the villages of Sri
Lanka, Kristopher Jansma’s irresistible narrator will be inspired and haunted
by the success of this greatest friend and rival in writing, the eccentric and
brilliantly talented Julian McGann, and endlessly enamored with Julian’s
enchanting friend Evelyn, the green-eyed girl who got away. After the trio has
a disastrous falling-out, desperate to tell the truth in his writing and to
figure out who he really is, Jansma’s narrator finds himself caught in a
never-ending web of lies.”
I got this book in the mail a few days ago and tossed it on
my bed. Later, after a housewarming party, I came in and started reading it. Even
though it was late and I was kind of drunk, it wrapped me up right away. Immediately engaging, it begins with the narrator
describing how he lost a manuscript- the first of many- in the airport terminal
where his mother left him while she worked as a flight attendant. It follows
his high school days working in a museum café, his meeting with Julian and
Evelyn and his travels all over the world. Pieces of his own fiction crop up
here and there, perfect complements to the truth but often indiscernible from
it.
Writers and artists will especially like this book for a couple reasons. First, for the fantasy it presents as the lives of career writers who spend their time drinking Zubrowka vodka, going to Iceland, and quoting Hemingway at each other. Second because I think we can all identify with the jealousy of a friend with more talent.
Writers and artists will especially like this book for a couple reasons. First, for the fantasy it presents as the lives of career writers who spend their time drinking Zubrowka vodka, going to Iceland, and quoting Hemingway at each other. Second because I think we can all identify with the jealousy of a friend with more talent.
It’s a deceptively
fast read with clean prose that hides a lot of insightful ideas and I felt a bit of a different person after I finished it. I was reading about the narrator in Manhattan, Dubai, and Luxembourg, and I was thinking about how much I wanted to be in those places too, how I'd finally do interesting things and meet exciting people if I could only go to other places. Then there's a scene at the Grand Canyon and the narrator says out of all the wonders of the world, this is the only one that lives up to the hype. I only live a few hours from the Grand Canyon and I've never seen it. I live right next to other beautiful places I ignore and I live in a huge city full of people who are as interesting as people anywhere, but I don't even try to find them, I just keep waiting until I can go to France or whatever, which I'm not even sure I can ever do. So I booked a weekend trip to Sedona because I've never been there either and I'm bringing this book with me to read again. I don't know if this is a permanent change or just me feeling restless from reading so much about other places, but either way, I'm looking at my life in a new light and I think that's one of the most incredible things a book can do.
The Unchangeable Spots of the Leopard is Jansma's debut novel.
The Unchangeable Spots of the Leopard is Jansma's debut novel.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles by Ron Currie Jr
Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles, written by Ron Currie Jr.,
is about a man named Ron Currie Jr. Both are writers, both lost their fathers
to illness, and apparently both are tragically in love with a captivating but unattainable
woman. To escape, Ron Currie Jr (the character, not the author) retreats to a
tropical island to drink and fight; there, he accidentally fakes his death, making
his failed manuscript into a bestseller.
It might seem like I gave away most of the book in the first
paragraph. But even though that storyline boasts more depth and late-game surprises
than I expected, it’s overshadowed by the narrator’s musings about the
Singularity, his father’s illness, and Emma, the woman he loves. These asides
are frequent, often right in the middle of the action, but mostly they’re
authentic; moving memories of his life or fascinating bits of technology history
(did you know that robots once made the stock market crash more than 1000
points in just minutes?)
Sometimes, Currie the author slips into a self-conscious
style, in which I can imagine him thinking a lot about people reading his book
and what they might feel about it. I can understand that’s a hard mindset to break
but it just served to disengage me here and there. Some of the characters seem
too obviously crafted to fill a particular role in the story, sometimes even
Emma, on whom the book spends a lot of time. On one page, we’re assured she’s
not sad, she’s happy. On the rest of the pages, she seems very sad and
impossibly beautiful and magnetic and every guy wants her but no one can have
her, and I’ve seen that kind of character too many times.
Sometimes I think I would have preferred the book if it were
distilled to the narrator’s relationship with his father, but I liked where
Emma’s storyline led him and us, geographically and emotionally.
--
If you think you want to read this book really soon, you
can! In a week or so I’ll pick a random commenter from this post and send them
a new hardback copy of this book. I’ll even autograph it. (Just kidding, I won’t,
I know you don’t want that.)
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
The Darlings by Cristina Alger
For New Years, I decided to read more and
hopefully have more content for the blog. Good timing
because Penguin Books recently sent me a copy of a book in exchange for a review.
“Necks still dripped with jewelry, the kind that spent the
rest of the year locked away in a safe. Town cars and chauffeured Escalades idled out
front. Of course, it was all an illusion…there wasn’t a single person in this
room- not a one- who could claim they weren’t worried. They all were but they
were dancing and drinking the night away as they always had…it was like the
final peaceful moments at the Alamo.”
The Darlings by
Cristina Alger centers around one of the wealthiest families in New York:
Carter and Ines Darling, daughters Merrill and Lily and their respective husbands,
Paul and Adrian. Set just after the market crash, it begins with a death that
jars the already tense upper class of the finance industry. The Darlings are
gradually sucked into the ensuing scandal and the crisis shines a light into
the depths of each member’s relationships with their family.
There’s a considerable amount of financial jargon and most
of it went over my head, so I might have missed out on some valuable tension
because I didn’t understand some of the company relationships. But that’s not
really the focus of the story; corporate corruption and scandal mostly
serve as a backdrop to human problems like infidelity, fraught marriages,
loneliness and fear of failure. Many of the characters have more money than I
can imagine and there is a lot of worrying over an uncertain financial future
while vacationing at a second home or throwing an opulent charity benefit. This
was, at first, alienating. By the end, a few of the characters like Paul and Carter
become very human; others such as Duncan, lawyer Sol and his wife Marion,
provide a quick glimpse into something touching and identifiable, and others
still feel so much like strangers that I can’t even remember them right now.
There's a fairly large cast of characters that continues to grow till the end
of the book. True to real life, but a little disorienting for a novel.
The book boasts some glowing setting descriptions, from the view of
an apartment on the Hudson River to the East Hamptons on the brink of winter. After
a few pages of some awkward dialogue (an upper-class adult man repeatedly
says “bro” and refers to beer as “mother’s milk”), Alger gets into her
groove and for the rest of the book, character interactions become more natural,
well-paced and serve to slowly build the tension. The ending- again, much like real life- didn't really close the story with a 'bang.' Part of me appreciates the realism in that decision and part of me was a little unsatisfied.
Overall, while I wished for a little more closure, I enjoyed the immersion into the grandiose lives of
big city millionaires and the attention given to complex familial connections.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Koko Be Good, Blankets, and American Born Chinese
I picked these three comics for this post because I think they would go well next to each other on a bookshelf.
This comic seems to be a reboot of a web series with the same name. At first, it revolves around two people who would probably be familiar to anyone who spent time in a hip college town. Jon is about to go off to Peru for some humanitarian work, and Koko is an impulsive, irreverent and directionless young woman. When the two of them meet, Koko is inspired by what she thinks is Jon's genuine selflessness. She decides to turn over a new leaf and be a good person. There is a third narrative, following a young man named Faron. Faron's story was interesting but I would have rather seen it in a comic of its own.
The art and the story work together to make give the book a dreamy, light mood. Koko is particularly expressive and the muted sepia palette warms it up. As for the plot, Koko's story was tough for me to buy and I didn't connect with her; I don't believe it would be so easy for a previously selfish and wild person to suddenly become 'good.' Jon's conflict with his older girlfriend gave me a few things to think about, and Faron's story was interesting but didn't fit and needed more space.
A black and white graphic novel that tells the story of the author's early life: his relationship with his brother and parents, his struggles with faith, and the first girl he loved. I identified with the protagonist quickly, and I think a lot of people would if they had been disappointed by religion in the past. It also excellently captures the intensity of falling in love for the first time, and the heartbreak that usually follows.It's got me thinking about the way I experienced emotions when I was younger and the way I experience them now.
The art was energetic and fluid and full of motion. Thompson fills pages with lovely patterns reminiscent of Indian henna designs, and those were some of my favorites. Many of his full-page panels would make excellent posters.
Koko Be Good: Jen Wang
This comic seems to be a reboot of a web series with the same name. At first, it revolves around two people who would probably be familiar to anyone who spent time in a hip college town. Jon is about to go off to Peru for some humanitarian work, and Koko is an impulsive, irreverent and directionless young woman. When the two of them meet, Koko is inspired by what she thinks is Jon's genuine selflessness. She decides to turn over a new leaf and be a good person. There is a third narrative, following a young man named Faron. Faron's story was interesting but I would have rather seen it in a comic of its own. The art and the story work together to make give the book a dreamy, light mood. Koko is particularly expressive and the muted sepia palette warms it up. As for the plot, Koko's story was tough for me to buy and I didn't connect with her; I don't believe it would be so easy for a previously selfish and wild person to suddenly become 'good.' Jon's conflict with his older girlfriend gave me a few things to think about, and Faron's story was interesting but didn't fit and needed more space.
Blankets: Craig Thompson
A black and white graphic novel that tells the story of the author's early life: his relationship with his brother and parents, his struggles with faith, and the first girl he loved. I identified with the protagonist quickly, and I think a lot of people would if they had been disappointed by religion in the past. It also excellently captures the intensity of falling in love for the first time, and the heartbreak that usually follows.It's got me thinking about the way I experienced emotions when I was younger and the way I experience them now.
The art was energetic and fluid and full of motion. Thompson fills pages with lovely patterns reminiscent of Indian henna designs, and those were some of my favorites. Many of his full-page panels would make excellent posters.
American Born Chinese: Gene Luen Yang
A simple, clean art style and a protagonist with an interesting perspective endeared this book to me. American Born Chinese flips between three very different stories: the Monkey King's struggle to change himself, Jin Wang's experience as a child of Chinese immigrants living in America, and Danny, an American boy inexplicably related to a ridiculous Chinese caricature named Chin-Kee. They tie together surprisingly but neatly for a satisfying conclusion. It balances light-heartedness with a lot of subtext on culture and alienation.
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Strange Case of Finley Jayne
I found this book on my boyfriend's Kindle even though neither of us ordered it. So, I read it. It's about (surprise!) Finley Jayne, a young woman in steampunk Britain who has superstrength and a supertemper that cost her a job, and then immediately get her a way better one. She is hired by a woman concerned about her daughter's widower fiance, and thinks Finley is the right person to sniff out any weird stuff. I've never read a steampunk novel before and I'm not an expert on the culture so I can't say if it was anachronistic. However, I did enjoy the development of the setting and steampunk trappings, like the automaton horses and robot servants. Some of the character motivations come off as flimsy and unconvincing, but the heroine is pretty solid and it's a short, light read with a little bit of creepiness at the end.
This book is a prequel to The Girl in the Steel Corset, a longer story about Finley that looks like it explains more about the origin of her powers, which is not addressed in this book.
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