Under the Dome

Alright, I'm finally back, with the next installment- Stephen King's Under the Dome.

When I first got the book from the library, a string of profanities (that I'm not proud of) ran through my head, all directed towards Mr. King. The book was- is- 1,074pages long. I was furious. I've read a lot of Stephen King before, and I knew that his work was detailed and thick, and not something I could skim. So I cursed him for writing something this large novel that I would have to pour over... and then, 37 pages later, I was eating my words.

In short, I absolutely loved the book. Within just a few chapters, I was remembering all of the things I love about his writing, and I was, once again, hooked. Only towards the very end did I actually begin to feel the weight of the book- both in my purse and in my mind- but it really kept a quick pace that was easy to read and engaging. Even in the most horrible parts, King made me laugh out loud, and I am so thankful for that. I knew I was, undeniably, in love with the book when he said:

"We have toured the sock-shape that is Chester's Mill and arrived back at Route 119. And, thanks to the magic of narration, not an instant has passed since the..."(p 37)

I won't tell you since what, obviously.

Much much later, I was sitting in a coffee shop on the Siuslaw River, enjoying a day of sunlight, when I read:

"She didn't need to finish; the pallor of her cheeks was eloquent."(p 664)

I thought, No, you're eloquent, Stephen King! Maybe it was the glorious day talking, but I was touched at King's ability to say something so poetic in such a bleak situation- and the book is littered with moments like this. The range of emotions is stunning- this isn't simply a horror story.

Now, having read his work before, I've come to believe that there are (at least) 2 basic kinds of King novels: Those that are meant to terrify the living snot out of you (re: It, The Dark Half, etc.) and then there are those that are creepy in a more thoughtful way- the kind of fear that seeps in and stays there for years to come, the kind of fear that comes from terrible things happening that are a little too realistic and hit a little too close to home.

Under the Dome was the latter.

Now, I'm going to pause here and say, NO, this was not based on the Simpsons movie. Yikes. King started writing this in 1976 and tabled it. So let's move on, shall we?

Under the Dome was so interesting, so compelling, and so complex that it made me feel... unsettled. It made me uneasy, seeing characteristics in people that were disquietingly horrible, and yet, so normal. It was amazing to watch what happened to the people that were trapped under a dome, and how quickly their lives fell apart. For the record, every single one of my (many) predictions were wrong. Not even close. But this, again, is why I love King.

Now, since I'm sure this sounds like a horrible bit of fan mail to Stephen King, I'll get on to the bad news:
It's long.

Sorry, that's all I've got- it was really, really long. It didn't feel long, but after a week of nothing but this book, I'm a little relieved to be done.

So, what do you think? Will you brave this obstacle? It's worth it, I think. If you do, do yourself a favor and read the Author's Note in the back- it was delightful.

Nazi Literature in the Americas

Hola guys! I know it's been a while, but heck, I don't even know if anyone is reading this. The next book on this list was Nazi Literature in the Americas, written in 2003 by Roberto Bolano... can't figure out how to make that n a Spanish n here on Blogger... so yeah. That's the guy. It was translated into English just this year by Chris Andrews. So that's what makes it perfect for this year's list- trust me, my reading of the Spanish version would have resulted in a very, very different blog post.

SO! Nazi Literature in the Americas was, sort of, about Nazi literature in the Americas, but not really. The book was a series of short stories, written like biographies, of writers that have vague connections to the Nazi party and are so unrealistic it was hysterical! The stories are bathed in actual history, so I had a hard time sorting out what was fact and what was fiction. The stories are intensely funny in a dark way. For example, as a side note in a story, Bolano included this:

"The opening pages introduce the reader to O'Connell's dog, a mutant, stray German Shepherd with telepathic powers and Nazi tendencies..." (p 105)

Seriously? A dog with Nazi tendencies? In another biography, one of the authors writes a book with the same number of paragraphs in each chapter, and someone finds out the he's been hiding acrostics in the first letter of each paragraph. So the first letters of each first paragraph in every chapter read things like THIS PLACE SUCKS and other more offensive messages. I laughed out loud at some moments, which is always a great thing to be able to say about a book. The stories are ironic and witty and tongue-in-cheek, and I very much enjoyed myself.

The bad news is this: The stories are fairly depressing. Most of the writers aren't successful, but can't get writing out from under their skin. Most are involved in the Nazi party in some vague way. There's murder, suicide, and all the rest. It's meant to be ironic, true, but I know for certain that this book isn't for everyone. I am SO glad it was recommended, because it's stretching my own boundaries of comfort, and I'm having fun. But I would NOT recommend this to everyone... though the people I would recommend it to would probably adore it. (re: Melissa Mason.)

So What do you think? Did I explain that well enough to help you know whether or not you were one of the people I'd recommend it to? Have you read any of his other work? Are you out there?

Also, shout out to Kyle of Enrich Design for telling me how to make this blog pretty- otherwise I'd still be on Blogger Template A.

The Lost City of Z

Next on the list was The Lost City of Z, by journalist David Grann.

The Lost City of Z was several true stories in one, centering around the last of the great explorers, Colonel Fawcett, who disappeared in the Amazon in 1925. Colonel Fawcett conjures up pictures of the explorer in the movie Up- a man determined even when no one else believed in him. The author, David Grann, was a journalist that heard about Colonel Fawcett during research for another story, and he was hooked.

The book was a tremendous adventure, and I absolutely recommend it! There's mystery, intrigue, clues galore, fraudulent claims... it leaves one contemplating the endless possibilities. A brutal account of the hardships that early explorers went through, I was disgusted by details and in awe of the people that, time and again, survived them. I'm a little afraid to tell certain people (coughcoughJeffandKevincoughcough) to read the book, for fear that they, too, would see the allure and run off to the Amazon.

Colonel Fawcett, an Englishman that had been in the army, ended up working for the Royal Geographic Society and mapped out much of Brazil and the Amazon as we know it. It's hard for me to picture a time when maps weren't accurate (especially on a century or so ago), but people died working on projects such as this. Fawcett eventually became obsessed with accounts of a lost city that he called Z, intertwined with accounts of El Dorado. I could go on and on (and on), but this is the gist of the setting of the book, so there you have it.

My favorite part was this: the history! Obviously, it's true, so there's history involved. Duh. But Grann does an amazing job of explaining the context for Fawcett's discoveries and other people that were adventuring similarly. Teddy Roosevelt's quotes come up frequently, mostly in support of Fawcett. Apparently, Fawcett was also an acquaintance of (Sir) Arthur Conan Doyle, who was also obsessed with the City of Z. Doyle, apparently, based his book The Lost World on Z, and even wrote Fawcett into one of his books as a main character. The legend of Z has permeated history in ways I would NEVER have realized, making it all the more fascinating! Many people have been bitten with "the Fawcett bug", and estimates are that over a hundred people have died trying to find out what happened to him.

What I didn't like: the thickness of the book. What I mean is that I felt like I was wading through a river in the book just getting through it. Grann does such a spectacular job of acclimating the readers with the necessary facts, that it was a little heavy. The book itself wasn't long (277 pages) but it had 60 pages of acknowledgements, citations, and even an index. It was a thick, heavy tale. I don't think it could have been written any other way, and I applaud Grann for going to such great lengths to write the story in its entirety, but boy, was it a tough one. I wish I wasn't trying to read it so quickly- I could have been kept attention by this book for weeks.

So please, let me know if you read this! And I beg you, don't go running off to the Amazon- you'll probably want to!

A side note...

Nope, A Side Note is not the name of a book. This is, quite literally, a side note. Or a rabbit trail. A meandering, if you will.

Sorry it's been a while (a week and a half- what?!?) since my last post. I had to read a book for the book club I'm in (and if you live in or around Portland, the book club you SHOULD be in) and the next few books are doozies, so I'm going to post some books that I've read this year other than the Powell's list. Just a quick list.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: I was appalled by how much I liked this at the beginning, and I definitely laughed out loud, but it got old after a while. I think it was good, but I reallllllly wanted Lydia to die, and she didn't... so that clinched it for me. I vote no.

Little Bee: I vote yes. Short and sweet, this story of a Nigerian refugee was challenging, heart-warming, though provoking... a little confusing, but still good. Get a couple of friends to read it so you can talk about it together.

Her Fearful Symmetry: I vote a resounding NO. By the same lady that wrote The Time Traveler's Wife, what started out as a truly wonderful story about twins ended up being all weird and confusing and ghost-y. Literally, ghosts. I'm serious. It came out of nowhere. If you're into that, go for it. I don't hate the idea of ghosts, it just felt out of character with the beginning of the book, so it took me by surprise. I finished only so I could find out about one particular character that I loved... otherwise, I would have thrown it out.

Arctic Homestead: Definitely a yes. It's a true story about the last female homesteader, and it was interesting and easy to read. It was the January pick for our book club (thanks Tasha!) and it got us all really excited! It was, definitely, an adventure.

The French Gardener: Ommigosh, YES. I loved it. It's darling and lovely and complicated and wonderful. It's about (yep) a French gardener. Thanks to Tammy for this month's book club choice.

So, those are some random thoughts. I may think of more that I want to talk about, but I wanted to get that all down for now. Enjoy! Let me know if you read any of them!

Garden Anywhere

This next book was Garden Anywhere: How to Grow Gorgeous Container Gardens, Herb Gardens, Kitchen Gardens, and More- Without Spending a Fortune by Alys Fowler. Long title, I know, but it really sets you up for what the book's about, which is a plus- and Fowler delivers.

This book was the first on the list that wasn't a story (or several), but it was absolutely splendid. In theory, I love gardening- but I'll be honest, it's a lot of work. Living in Southern California, anything we planted would grow, really. We had every fruit tree I could think of and flowers everywhere. Moving up to Oregon, I realized that I was going to have to relearn gardening for this region and for my yard. Thus far, I've been a bit discouraged- I had no idea where to start!

That being said, I've decided that I have to go out and buy this book. It was a wonderful combination of rules and recommendations for any circumstance. Fowler has great ideas for repurposing old boxes and pots for the garden, how to create your own garden boxes. Even if you've got an apartment that gets no sun, Fowler has ideas for what you can grow that will freshen up your space.

My favorite part was in the back, where she has a section called The Directory for the best, most useful, easiest vegetables and spices to grow. She's a wealth of knowledge and lays out the information in an easy, understandable way- even decoding what's on the tags at garden stores.

One of the things I liked the best was the layout. The pictures are beautiful- even the ones of dirt! None of the pages have the bare, white clinical feel that I feel like I get from so many gardening books- this was a pleasure to peruse.

In the interests of putting my money where my mouth is, I'll try to get Paul to build me a garden box and plant some sugar snap peas! I could apply most of the things in the book, but this is my first project. I would absolutely recommend the book to anyone, especially gardeners (and aspiring gardeners!)I will be buying this for several people as gifts! I have a feeling that this will soon become my go-to guide for years to come.

If you take a gander, let me know what you think! Did you try one of her ideas?

Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned

So next on the list was Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned, a collection of short stories by Wells Tower. There are 9 short stories, and thanks to a random turn of events, I was able to read them all today.

Though the short stories were all very different- set in different times, places, and with varying characters- they were all bound by, essentially, life being rotten. Not to say that they're all depressing (though most are); there's a fair amount of humor and irony. Most of the stories, it seemed, had to do with people making their bed and then having to lay in it.

A few of the stories were particularly enjoyable, and they were all well-written. I obviously was interested in them; I read them all in one day. I was impressed by Tower's ability to engage me in a character's lackluster life in twenty to thirty pages, and I think it's probably why more than one Powell's staffer recommended this collection. I didn't particularly love the book, but I could appreciate it. I think what struck me the most was how much the stories tended to be... real. Tower made observations based on everyday circumstances that were totally relatable and took worst-case scenarios and made them true to life. I would definitely recommend it to some of my more cynical friends (you know who you are), though I wouldn't read it again. I would probably read more of Tower's stories in the future, though.

Have you read any of these stories? Check them out and gimme some feedback! Thanks!

Lark & Termite

The next book I received from the library was Lark & Termite, by Jayne Anne Phillips, named after two of the main characters, a barely-teenage girl and her special needs brother.

So, as I read the book, I would see things and think, "Ah, that's interesting. I'll write that down for the blog." And I did, dutifully jotting down pages numbers and references on my bookmark, the library receipt dated this last Friday. (Fun fact: I'm obsessed with bookmarks, literally- but I tend to lose them, and I certainly can't write on them, so I put the receipts to good use, though it pains me to not use something prettier.) So anyways, I felt like I was starting to get the hang of this blogging thing, and that these little notes would be wonderfully helpful, and I'd be able to write something insightful and informative in less than a half an hour once I finished the book.

Here's the thing though: this list keeps surprising me. The books keep surprising me. Just when I think I've gotten something figured out, I get thrown for a loop. Lark & Termite is a wonderful example of this.

So, when I read that the book was about a girl that takes care of her special needs brother, I thought, "Oh great. Let's get the tissues ready!" But the book is so much more. Set in the 1950s, the book tells several difficult, entwined stories- that of a soldier in the Korean War, the story of sisters that were as complicated as they come, the self-discovery of a young girl named Lark, and the compelling, interesting view of a 9-year-old special needs boy, nicknamed Termite. All of these relationships and plot lines flowed seamlessly through each others' lives, dwelling in the past and stubbornly digging their heels in. More than just a war story, or a coming-of-age tale, this book is the story of bonds that are unexplainable. To put any stigma or stereotype on them would be to rob them of their depth.

Foolishly, about halfway through, I thought that sex was the major theme of the book. In a way, it is- it's ever-present and a major player in how many of the relationships were and continue to be played out. But sex is merely the tool that Phillips uses to complicate the lives of every character, allowing it to evoke self-discovery, the struggle for control, the struggle for power, and vulnerability. It was tastefully written and not vulgar, which I appreciated.

I think I liked this book. My feelings about it are complex, which is fitting. I didn't love it, but I very much appreciated its thoughtfulness. The descriptions, especially from the viewpoint of Termite, were fresh and appealing and confusing and wonderful. Lark was my favorite character though- many of the things I wrote down were from her perspective, but I realize that they don't really say anything about the book, so I'll let you discover them instead. The metaphors alone I could teach on for an entire semester, were I a professor somewhere instead of a blogger wrapped in my grandmother's crocheted blanket.

The bad news is this: I can't tell you much more than I already have. Part of what is brilliant is the unveiling of the story- the twists and turns and forks in the road. I will say that if you think any of this is remotely appealing, if you want to understand what I'm babbling about or go meandering with the characters, please, please, give it a shot. It certainly isn't for everyone, but I was glad I read it, though I'm as confused as I ever was... though somehow, it's pleasant, and I enjoyed myself.

What did you think? I would love to get feedback- I know y'all are reading! Does this make you want to read the book, or dismiss it? If you read it, what were your opinions?

Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi

Book 4 of 155 was Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi by Geoff Dyer. I had very little to go on when I picked this book up from the library, but it was the opposite from what I expected.

I'll start by saying this: the book was completely pointless. My own fault was assuming that when the Powell's staffer said that it had everything- sex, drugs, death... that this would be interesting. It wasn't. Rather than have a mystery or conflict or even a plot, the book languishes in nothingness, in the meaninglessness of the disenchanted. Maybe that was the point.

First of all, when the book began, it seemed... whiny. I felt like the main character was going to be a complainer right from the beginning. I was, it turns out, right. The main character (Jeff)is a mid forties journalist that seems to have a life in the gray area- no highlights, nothing particularly terrible... just a life where he wants more, but doesn't mind his pseudo-life enough to change anything. Briefly, during the middle of the book, he meets this girl and everything is wonderful!... and then it's over. No reference back to this relationship- the book abruptly switched from Jeff's cocktails parties, graphic sex scenes, and intermittent drug use to the dingy, crowded, poor streets of Varanasi, India. Jeff is no longer the main character, though the narrator in this half is also a journalist.

The new main character, never named (that I noticed) is very like Jeff in many ways... living a life in the gray. He's sent to Varanasi for work, and decides to keep living there because his flat in London is rented out, earning him enough money to keep living in squalor in India. He also graphically describes being violently ill in a way that made me sick to my stomach. It was gross for the sake of being gross. He doesn't have to do anything, be anywhere- nothing. The book ends and pointlessly as it began.

Also, on a personal note, there are no chapters- just the two sections of the book. I suppose, from an editing perspective, this keeps with the theme of the book- the days melding together into one long journal entry- but for me, it was plain irritating. Had the book been better, I might have appreciated this as a part of Geoff Dyer's artistic license, but instead, it just annoyed me.

Now, to be fair- Geoff Dyer is talented. His writing is skilled, though I didn't like the topic. His illustrations are amusing and insightful, and wish that I hadn't been so distracted by hating a great portion of the book. Yes, I used the word- I hated the book. Even now, my lip is curled back in disgust. Bleccccccch. But, still trying to be fair, his writing in and of itself, an entity separate from the actual "plot", was compelling and interesting. He even slips in quotes from plays, movies, authors, and music that only someone reading very closely would notice. His credit to these quotes comes in his acknowledgements, and occasionally when a character notices that someone is dropping movie lines. That was a fun side note that I did enjoy.

So why did someone pick this book as their FAVORITE book of 2009? Personally, I don't know. Objectively? My best guess is this: the book embraces itself wholly. Geoff Dyer decides to make it one of life, graphic and crude as it may be, and stays true to that. I can imagine that this, in and of itself, attracts an audience that appreciates descriptive accounts of the world. Some times it was funny, others it was crass- but I know that people appreciate this too- I'm just not one of them.

If you've read this, do you disagree? Am I alone in my view of this? Let me know what you think!

Strength in What Remains

So, book 3 on the list (which I've counted out to be, removing duplicates, officially 155 books) is Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder. It was a Pulitzer Prize winner and I suppose I'll start by saying that the award was completely deserved.

The book itself is a true story, about a medical student named Deo from Burundi, told to the author while he was living in New York. Escaping attacks, uprisings, and genocides, he comes to the United States and starts over, living in parks and crack houses in order to survive. His story is compelling and heart-wrenching. While those that help him give me hope in humanity and foster a triumph of the human spirit that is unique to truly devastating stories, overall, I felt extreme sorrow. He is a survivor like few others in history, and his story isn't over. He seems to have a lot of work ahead of him- he's trying to help those like him. Like many, he sees the extreme conditions, especially in medical treatment, as part of the reason for the warring. He says:
"'By all means, let's do prevention! Prevent people from suffering! Don't wait for people to feel like their lives are not worth living. Once they feel that way, how are they going to feel about another person's life?'" (p 155)

The bad news is this: I didn't really like the book. It was wonderfully written, thought-provoking, and engulfing. Deo is a hero in a way I could never, ever be. The author writes:
"When Deo first told me about his beginnings in New York, I had a simple thought: 'I would not have survived.'"
I know how he feels- I thought that repeatedly throughout the book. It was a graphic account without being gory, detailed but not overly so. The problem is that, quite frankly, I cannot imagine this life. I know it's true for more of the world than I understand, and that disliking it doesn't make it not reality. It is quite real, and this book brings much of it to light. As a matter of fact, beyond not liking the book, I'm very glad it was written. The story of Deo, and of others like him, should be told- it needs to be told. I am being painfully honest when I say that I simply didn't like hearing it. I know that this devastation occurs, but I'm not sure I have the stomach for it. I would sit, shocked, rereading parts when he talks about wading through a river full of bodies, unable to grasp the horror of it. Almost as terrible was reading about the people that ridiculed him in the United States- one boss would poke him with a stick to get his attention because Deo spoke French, not English. I was, quite simply, appalled. The author knew the story needed to be told, but it was hard for him too. He writes:
"Sometimes I felt that to remind him of the past was to traumatize him all over again. On several occasions, I offered to stop my search for his story and let his memories die, if they would. Once or twice, I hoped he would accept my offer. But he always declined." (p 161)

The good news is that the book is marvelous. Even though I didn't like it, I'm glad-very glad- that I read it. I was challenged to see the world differently, to begin to take off the red, white, and blue tinted glasses that most Americans live with. I would recommend this book wholeheartedly, with the warning that it won't be easy to get through. Not one for nonfiction, I was glad that I read a book I wouldn't otherwise have picked up. I am in awe of the strength that it takes to survive some of the most awful things, and so thankful that the stories are being told. Please, please, give it a go. Challenge yourself with this book! If you do, or did, what did you think? I would love to hear other thoughts on this!