3. Anna friggin Karenina:
2. Les. Mis. er. ables.:
1. Aggghhhhh, The Great Gatsby. From Baz Luhrmann, no less!
This Christmas, my brain is going to explode.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Epic
If you're not freaking out over this right now, I don't even know you anymore. This Christmas is going to be so epic, no one will ever recover.
3. Anna friggin Karenina:
2. Les. Mis. er. ables.:
1. Aggghhhhh, The Great Gatsby. From Baz Luhrmann, no less!
3. Anna friggin Karenina:
2. Les. Mis. er. ables.:
1. Aggghhhhh, The Great Gatsby. From Baz Luhrmann, no less!
Book club for freaks.
Ahhhhh, hunkering down in preparation of Armageddon. Halloween, election day, my last days of work, the first day of Nanowrimo, and of course, Hurricane Sandy dumping all over all of it.
It's a good time to stay inside and read.
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America
By Erik Larson
The author of this book, Erik Larson, is wildly popular for his non-fiction books about unusual and often obscure events in history. This was my introduction to his oeuvre and the same probably goes for most readers. If you are one of the ten people who still hasn't heard of or read this book, know that it stands up to the hype.
There are two main subjects: the architects responsible for the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, and a serial killer lurking in the crush of anonymous men and women who flooded the city looking for opportunity. Non-fiction books of this sort can go two ways... there are the books that are well-researched but are written poorly or vice versa, and there are books that are well-researched, well-structured, and fantastically suspenseful. This is one of the latter.
The segments of the book about Dr. H. H. Holmes (AKA, Herman Webster Mudget), the serial killer, fascinated me the most because I'm creepy and because this dude was so over-the-top bizarre. I was less interested in the parts of the book about Architect Daniel Burnham, though I have spoken to others who loved them. What is perhaps most interesting about the book is Larson's ability to describe a world so entirely different from our own. In many ways, fin-de-siecle Chicago might as well be an alien country.
When She Woke
By Hillary Jordan
This book is often described as "a futuristic Scarlet Letter." It tells the story of a young woman in a not-so-distant future who is charged with murder. Her punishment? She is "chromed," infected with a virus that turns her skin bright red. She's free to live in society, but everyone can see the marks of her crime. For me, this premise is enough. Sold. Done. Let's read it.
The book is fiercely political in a sci-fi, soft-core Stieg Larsson sort of way. Hannah Payne (get it, H.P.? Hester Prynne?), the main character, lives in the Plano/Dallas area and her parents are members of the largest mega-church in the country. She lives under intense religious stricture. There are oh-so-many ways in which the world has lost its mind, none of which Hannah really sees until she becomes an outsider (isn't that often the case?). But the action in the book keeps it from becoming, well, preachy, most of the time. The second half of the book was not as strong as the first, but I didn't really mind because I loved the unusual premise and was willing to put up with just about anything.
P.S. The kindle version is $1.99 right now.
The Family Fang
By Kevin Wilson
This is another book I fell in love with for the premise, and loved it enough that I stuck it out even with the plot was a little holey. The premise: Buster and Annie Fang, children of world-famous performance artists Caleb and Camille Fang, have grown up, but it's still basically impossible for them to tell the difference between reality and art. Everyone thinks their own family is screwed up, but no one really holds a candle to these people.
There is a plot, but it's really secondary to the pleasure of just enjoying Wilson's writing. The novel wins because it's funny and creative, and because Buster and Annie are so human (even if their parents are more like caricatures of real humans). Read it for the scene with the potato gun, if for no other reason.
Wilson has an amazing imagination and it shines in the guerrilla art-pieces created by the Fang family, and in the fictional movies and novels Annie and Buster create. Plus, the novel is short, which happens less and less in contemporary fiction these days (Jonathan Franzen, David Foster Wallace, I'm looking at you), but is sometimes exactly the right thing.
It's a good time to stay inside and read.
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed AmericaBy Erik Larson
The author of this book, Erik Larson, is wildly popular for his non-fiction books about unusual and often obscure events in history. This was my introduction to his oeuvre and the same probably goes for most readers. If you are one of the ten people who still hasn't heard of or read this book, know that it stands up to the hype.
There are two main subjects: the architects responsible for the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, and a serial killer lurking in the crush of anonymous men and women who flooded the city looking for opportunity. Non-fiction books of this sort can go two ways... there are the books that are well-researched but are written poorly or vice versa, and there are books that are well-researched, well-structured, and fantastically suspenseful. This is one of the latter.
The segments of the book about Dr. H. H. Holmes (AKA, Herman Webster Mudget), the serial killer, fascinated me the most because I'm creepy and because this dude was so over-the-top bizarre. I was less interested in the parts of the book about Architect Daniel Burnham, though I have spoken to others who loved them. What is perhaps most interesting about the book is Larson's ability to describe a world so entirely different from our own. In many ways, fin-de-siecle Chicago might as well be an alien country.
When She WokeBy Hillary Jordan
This book is often described as "a futuristic Scarlet Letter." It tells the story of a young woman in a not-so-distant future who is charged with murder. Her punishment? She is "chromed," infected with a virus that turns her skin bright red. She's free to live in society, but everyone can see the marks of her crime. For me, this premise is enough. Sold. Done. Let's read it.
The book is fiercely political in a sci-fi, soft-core Stieg Larsson sort of way. Hannah Payne (get it, H.P.? Hester Prynne?), the main character, lives in the Plano/Dallas area and her parents are members of the largest mega-church in the country. She lives under intense religious stricture. There are oh-so-many ways in which the world has lost its mind, none of which Hannah really sees until she becomes an outsider (isn't that often the case?). But the action in the book keeps it from becoming, well, preachy, most of the time. The second half of the book was not as strong as the first, but I didn't really mind because I loved the unusual premise and was willing to put up with just about anything.
P.S. The kindle version is $1.99 right now.
The Family FangBy Kevin Wilson
This is another book I fell in love with for the premise, and loved it enough that I stuck it out even with the plot was a little holey. The premise: Buster and Annie Fang, children of world-famous performance artists Caleb and Camille Fang, have grown up, but it's still basically impossible for them to tell the difference between reality and art. Everyone thinks their own family is screwed up, but no one really holds a candle to these people.
There is a plot, but it's really secondary to the pleasure of just enjoying Wilson's writing. The novel wins because it's funny and creative, and because Buster and Annie are so human (even if their parents are more like caricatures of real humans). Read it for the scene with the potato gun, if for no other reason.
Wilson has an amazing imagination and it shines in the guerrilla art-pieces created by the Fang family, and in the fictional movies and novels Annie and Buster create. Plus, the novel is short, which happens less and less in contemporary fiction these days (Jonathan Franzen, David Foster Wallace, I'm looking at you), but is sometimes exactly the right thing.
Monday, October 22, 2012
M1Nd-BoGgL3d
Tim and I have this on-going discussion that I find totally fascinating. There's a certain class of knowledge that totally changes your outlook on your existence. There are just some facts that, once you learn them, you're kind of never the same person again. I remember growing up and finding out different things and just thinking, "holy crap--I don't know anything about anything."
There are a few I remember in specific, but I'm reminded of others from time to time. Here are my current top-ten favorites (each one of which deserves more consideration than I've given them here).
1. People are Animals.
When you're little, it's fairly plain to see that there are people, and there are animals. Two different categories. Two different groups. I remember learning that people were mammals, that we actually belonged to the same classification, and having my mind explode. I also remember repeating this fact to anyone who would listen at any given moment.
The fact that people are animals completely changes our whole relationship with everything around us, and the nature of our existence.
2. The Fibonacci Sequence.
The Fibonacci Sequence is a simple series of integers where each number equals the sum of the two previous numbers, e.g.:
1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144....etc.
When expressed as a spiral, the sequence looks like this. A golden spiral.
It's a lovely image, ok. But the reason it's so mind boggling is because it appears EVERYWHERE in nature and art. Flowers, nebulas, shells, storms, and some of the most famous art and architecture in the world, all follow the same mathematical principle, which is closely tied to what is called the Golden Ratio, also known as the most beautiful ratio.
Why is this so mind blowing? Because it's universal, it's simple, and it suggests order throughout the universe all through a simple pattern that you can draw on any piece of graph paper. I'm in LOVE with the Fibonacci sequence.
3. We're drinking dinosaur pee.
For real. I remember learning about the water cycle and being vaguely horrified--water falls, plants and animals use it, it goes into the atmosphere, it falls again. But then I learned that every single molecule on this planet except those that come from space debris, has been on this planet since it formed. The water in the water cycle has been doing its thing since water formed on the surface of the planet--hence, we drink the same water (and breath the same air) that was in the lungs and guts of dinosaurs (and Jesus and Einstein). On top of that, all of those molecules originally came from outer-space. Outer-space!
4. The human body regenerates its cells once every seven years.
Every seven years you are a completely new and different person from the person you used to be. Even your scars are made of different cells than they were when you scraped your knew or fell off your bike. If this is the case, why don't they go away? Why don't we grow new limbs if we lose them? How do our brains contain any of the same information if all of the cells that made up ourselves died long ago and were replaced by new ones? MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS!
5. The human body is made in distinct proportions
This is something you begin to learn in basic drawing classes. Your eyes are located in the precise middle of your face, directly between the crown of your head and your chin. Your hand, from the base of the wrist to the tip of the fingers, is the exact length of your face from chin to hairline (uh, if you've got a hairline). The length of the bottom of your foot is equal to the length of your forearm from inner elbow to wrist. Most human bodies are eight times the height of the head, while the shoulders are twice the height of the head. This is math at its most functional. Does it have any mystical significance? Probably not. But it's fun to be reminded that our bodies are awesome.
6. Futility, or The Wreck of the Titan
This book, written in 1893, is about the largest ship in the whole world, the Titan, which strikes an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sinks one day in April. It's written 13-years before the sinking of the Titanic. I remember learning about this--I was looking through another book in Crossroads Mall in Boulder, when I was about 11--and getting goosebumps all over my body. By no means do I believe that the author predicted the sinking of the Titanic, or that there is any sort of occult explanation. But I LOVE how bizarre and unpredictable the world is. I remember thinking, "if something this amazing could exist, anything could exist."
7. When you look at stars, you're watching the past.
A light-year is defined as, "a unit of astronomical distance equivalent to the distance that light travels in one year, which is 9.4607 × 1012 km (nearly 6 trillion miles)." If the nearest star to earth is 4.5 light years away, it has taken 4.5 years for the light we see to leave the star and travel to our eyes, where it dead-ends in our retinas. Watching the night sky is like watching a film of events that happened in the past. For the most distant stars, it is wholly possible that the star has long-since exploded or died out and that the image we see is of an object in space that no longer exists.
8. "The War of Northern Aggression"
I'm from Colorado. We studied the Civil War, but let's be honest here: Colorado wasn't even a STATE until a decade after the war had ended. We study a lot of other things in our elementary history classes... like dinosaurs... and the American Indians... and... the water cycle. I didn't know, until moving to the South for college, that many Southerners consider any non-southern person a "yankee" and that the Civil War is referred to as "The War of Northern Aggression." America seemed like a fairly homogenous entity for me, until that moment. This is when I really realized how it's possible to live in one place and have utterly different perspectives of "the truth."
9. Sometimes a nod means "no."
There are some countries where nodding your head means "no" and shaking it means "yes" (or some other gesture is used). This gesture seems completely innate--we never think about it--but it's actually learned and culturally agreed-upon. Learning that some cultures wink, or bobble, or jerk their heads emphasizes the feeling that we all live on one planet, but in some ways we're totally alien to one another.
10. The interstate system is not organic
What I mean by this is, the Interstates in the US aren't just more-developed versions of roads that were already there. I always just sort functioned under the assumption that most roads were paved over older roads and paths that people and animals had been using for eons to get around. The nature of the Interstate system might seem completely obvious to people who live in any city that's laid out like a grid--city's don't just spring up that way, they're usually planned. But I was astonished to discover that the interstates we depend on every day were part of a defense initiative by Dwight Eisenhower. He argued that we needed a way to transport army equipment and troops in the event of a war. The interstates didn't really exist until after our grandparents were born, but it is almost impossible to imagine our country without them.
Maybe this all just demonstrates that I wasn't/am not currently the brightest crayon on the tree. But being amazed is more fun than being bored all the time.
There are a few I remember in specific, but I'm reminded of others from time to time. Here are my current top-ten favorites (each one of which deserves more consideration than I've given them here).
 |
| Too smart for our own good. |
When you're little, it's fairly plain to see that there are people, and there are animals. Two different categories. Two different groups. I remember learning that people were mammals, that we actually belonged to the same classification, and having my mind explode. I also remember repeating this fact to anyone who would listen at any given moment.
The fact that people are animals completely changes our whole relationship with everything around us, and the nature of our existence.
2. The Fibonacci Sequence.
The Fibonacci Sequence is a simple series of integers where each number equals the sum of the two previous numbers, e.g.:
1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144....etc.
When expressed as a spiral, the sequence looks like this. A golden spiral.It's a lovely image, ok. But the reason it's so mind boggling is because it appears EVERYWHERE in nature and art. Flowers, nebulas, shells, storms, and some of the most famous art and architecture in the world, all follow the same mathematical principle, which is closely tied to what is called the Golden Ratio, also known as the most beautiful ratio.
Why is this so mind blowing? Because it's universal, it's simple, and it suggests order throughout the universe all through a simple pattern that you can draw on any piece of graph paper. I'm in LOVE with the Fibonacci sequence.
 |
| Great taste! Less filing! |
For real. I remember learning about the water cycle and being vaguely horrified--water falls, plants and animals use it, it goes into the atmosphere, it falls again. But then I learned that every single molecule on this planet except those that come from space debris, has been on this planet since it formed. The water in the water cycle has been doing its thing since water formed on the surface of the planet--hence, we drink the same water (and breath the same air) that was in the lungs and guts of dinosaurs (and Jesus and Einstein). On top of that, all of those molecules originally came from outer-space. Outer-space!
 |
| What if your cells are slowly turning you into a cat? |
Every seven years you are a completely new and different person from the person you used to be. Even your scars are made of different cells than they were when you scraped your knew or fell off your bike. If this is the case, why don't they go away? Why don't we grow new limbs if we lose them? How do our brains contain any of the same information if all of the cells that made up ourselves died long ago and were replaced by new ones? MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS!
5. The human body is made in distinct proportionsThis is something you begin to learn in basic drawing classes. Your eyes are located in the precise middle of your face, directly between the crown of your head and your chin. Your hand, from the base of the wrist to the tip of the fingers, is the exact length of your face from chin to hairline (uh, if you've got a hairline). The length of the bottom of your foot is equal to the length of your forearm from inner elbow to wrist. Most human bodies are eight times the height of the head, while the shoulders are twice the height of the head. This is math at its most functional. Does it have any mystical significance? Probably not. But it's fun to be reminded that our bodies are awesome.
6. Futility, or The Wreck of the TitanThis book, written in 1893, is about the largest ship in the whole world, the Titan, which strikes an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sinks one day in April. It's written 13-years before the sinking of the Titanic. I remember learning about this--I was looking through another book in Crossroads Mall in Boulder, when I was about 11--and getting goosebumps all over my body. By no means do I believe that the author predicted the sinking of the Titanic, or that there is any sort of occult explanation. But I LOVE how bizarre and unpredictable the world is. I remember thinking, "if something this amazing could exist, anything could exist."
 |
| Forward thrusters, ENGAGE! |
A light-year is defined as, "a unit of astronomical distance equivalent to the distance that light travels in one year, which is 9.4607 × 1012 km (nearly 6 trillion miles)." If the nearest star to earth is 4.5 light years away, it has taken 4.5 years for the light we see to leave the star and travel to our eyes, where it dead-ends in our retinas. Watching the night sky is like watching a film of events that happened in the past. For the most distant stars, it is wholly possible that the star has long-since exploded or died out and that the image we see is of an object in space that no longer exists.
 |
| FOR REAL. |
I'm from Colorado. We studied the Civil War, but let's be honest here: Colorado wasn't even a STATE until a decade after the war had ended. We study a lot of other things in our elementary history classes... like dinosaurs... and the American Indians... and... the water cycle. I didn't know, until moving to the South for college, that many Southerners consider any non-southern person a "yankee" and that the Civil War is referred to as "The War of Northern Aggression." America seemed like a fairly homogenous entity for me, until that moment. This is when I really realized how it's possible to live in one place and have utterly different perspectives of "the truth."
 |
| NSFW in GB |
There are some countries where nodding your head means "no" and shaking it means "yes" (or some other gesture is used). This gesture seems completely innate--we never think about it--but it's actually learned and culturally agreed-upon. Learning that some cultures wink, or bobble, or jerk their heads emphasizes the feeling that we all live on one planet, but in some ways we're totally alien to one another.
10. The interstate system is not organicWhat I mean by this is, the Interstates in the US aren't just more-developed versions of roads that were already there. I always just sort functioned under the assumption that most roads were paved over older roads and paths that people and animals had been using for eons to get around. The nature of the Interstate system might seem completely obvious to people who live in any city that's laid out like a grid--city's don't just spring up that way, they're usually planned. But I was astonished to discover that the interstates we depend on every day were part of a defense initiative by Dwight Eisenhower. He argued that we needed a way to transport army equipment and troops in the event of a war. The interstates didn't really exist until after our grandparents were born, but it is almost impossible to imagine our country without them.
Maybe this all just demonstrates that I wasn't/am not currently the brightest crayon on the tree. But being amazed is more fun than being bored all the time.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Argo
Yesterday we saw Argo, and I have to tell you about it.
Argo is a film about the Iran Hostage Crisis which occurred between 1979 and 1981. After Ayatollah Khomeini came into power and the Shah of Iran was deposed, the US gave the former Shah safe haven. The shaw had been wildly unpopular because he was essentially a puppet for the US and Great Britain, allowing them control of Iranian oil. He was also responsible for the "westernization" of Iran, a move that outraged traditional Shi'a muslims. Under the Ayatollah, Iran transformed from a monarchy--which it had been for centuries--to a theocracy.
On November 4, 1979 a group of hundreds of Iranian students stormed the US Embassy compound. Their intention was to voice their objections to US and Soviet policies, and hold the embassy for a few days. The siege, however, got out of hand. Some 60 diplomats were taken prisoner inside the embassy. Six of them escaped through a back exit and took refuge--secretly--in the home of the Canadian ambassador.
Argo is the story of the audacious rescue of those six people, devised and carried out by CIA agent Tony Mendez in cooperation with the Canadian government. Mendez planned to enter Iran under the cover of a fake science fiction film looking for a location. The six trapped Americans would be smuggled out disguised as a Canadian film crew. Everything about the fake film had to be real enough to stand up to the highest scrutiny.
There are many, many things to like about Argo. The first of which being the sensible and fair treatment of Iran in the film. They seems like an odd thing to say, since the film wouldn't exist without Iran-as-badguy. However, the film makes clear that all people caught up in these kinds of situations go nuts--American, Iranian, or otherwise--and that there are good and bad people in any group. This isn't something you usually get in films where it's the US against a foreign country (just talk to every Russian or Chinese person ever depicted in a movie, ever). Time, more than anything else, is the enemy in this film.
Because of this sense of urgency, the film has a tense, fast-paced plot. The costumes and settings are flawless (at least from the point of view of someone who wasn't born yet at the time and has never been to Iran). The characters are interesting. Best of all, the movie cuts tension with humor, resulting in a film that seems really "human," well-rounded, and eminently watchable.
It's nice to see Ben Affleck do something more Good Will Hunting and less Surviving Christmas (remember that? Yeah, neither does anyone else). I would not be remotely surprised if this film earns him another Oscar.
The cast is strong: John Goodman, Alan Arkin, Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad!), Clea DuVall, Rory Cochrane (Empire Records, remember?)... And Ben Affleck actually looks like he's playing someone other than himself. (Much love for the 70's beard.)
When I say this film is tense, I'm really not kidding. I had my feet up on my seat and my hands over my mouth for most of it. And it is the only movie I've ever been to where the whole audience applauded in the middle of the film.
Movies like this make our decision to try for the Foreign Service seem a little crazy, but they also remind me why Tim wants to go in the first place. There has to be diplomacy in this world.
PS. I have no idea why I don't post more movie reviews. I'm sort of obsessed with going to the movies.
Argo is a film about the Iran Hostage Crisis which occurred between 1979 and 1981. After Ayatollah Khomeini came into power and the Shah of Iran was deposed, the US gave the former Shah safe haven. The shaw had been wildly unpopular because he was essentially a puppet for the US and Great Britain, allowing them control of Iranian oil. He was also responsible for the "westernization" of Iran, a move that outraged traditional Shi'a muslims. Under the Ayatollah, Iran transformed from a monarchy--which it had been for centuries--to a theocracy.
On November 4, 1979 a group of hundreds of Iranian students stormed the US Embassy compound. Their intention was to voice their objections to US and Soviet policies, and hold the embassy for a few days. The siege, however, got out of hand. Some 60 diplomats were taken prisoner inside the embassy. Six of them escaped through a back exit and took refuge--secretly--in the home of the Canadian ambassador.
Argo is the story of the audacious rescue of those six people, devised and carried out by CIA agent Tony Mendez in cooperation with the Canadian government. Mendez planned to enter Iran under the cover of a fake science fiction film looking for a location. The six trapped Americans would be smuggled out disguised as a Canadian film crew. Everything about the fake film had to be real enough to stand up to the highest scrutiny.
There are many, many things to like about Argo. The first of which being the sensible and fair treatment of Iran in the film. They seems like an odd thing to say, since the film wouldn't exist without Iran-as-badguy. However, the film makes clear that all people caught up in these kinds of situations go nuts--American, Iranian, or otherwise--and that there are good and bad people in any group. This isn't something you usually get in films where it's the US against a foreign country (just talk to every Russian or Chinese person ever depicted in a movie, ever). Time, more than anything else, is the enemy in this film.
Because of this sense of urgency, the film has a tense, fast-paced plot. The costumes and settings are flawless (at least from the point of view of someone who wasn't born yet at the time and has never been to Iran). The characters are interesting. Best of all, the movie cuts tension with humor, resulting in a film that seems really "human," well-rounded, and eminently watchable.
It's nice to see Ben Affleck do something more Good Will Hunting and less Surviving Christmas (remember that? Yeah, neither does anyone else). I would not be remotely surprised if this film earns him another Oscar.
The cast is strong: John Goodman, Alan Arkin, Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad!), Clea DuVall, Rory Cochrane (Empire Records, remember?)... And Ben Affleck actually looks like he's playing someone other than himself. (Much love for the 70's beard.)
When I say this film is tense, I'm really not kidding. I had my feet up on my seat and my hands over my mouth for most of it. And it is the only movie I've ever been to where the whole audience applauded in the middle of the film.
Movies like this make our decision to try for the Foreign Service seem a little crazy, but they also remind me why Tim wants to go in the first place. There has to be diplomacy in this world.
PS. I have no idea why I don't post more movie reviews. I'm sort of obsessed with going to the movies.
Monday, October 01, 2012
Good and bad ideas.
The job search continues. Meanwhile, if you have any documents you need me to proofread, let me know. (Please don't let this blog inform your opinions of my badass proofing abilities.)
Thitherwardly with this week's book reviews! Two books by Jeffrey Eugenides and one about a serial killer.
The Marriage Plot
By Jeffrey Eugenides
I have elsewhere described this book as "an English Major's Utopia/therapy session for lost 20-something (both categories that appeal to me)." It occurs to me through reading reviews by others that these are not universal categories and not everyone was as pleased with this book as I have been. The number one complaint seems to be that all of the characters are white, and one of them is wealthy. To which I reply, "You've never studied the marriage plot in English class, have you?"
Not being an English major shouldn't ruin the reading experience for you--in fact, you'd be amazed how often being an English major ruins it. If literary allusions are a deal-breaker for some, they're my blind spot.
This is the story of three students trying to keep their college graduation from becoming the apogee of their whole lives. Madeline studies English; Leonard, biology; and Mitchell, religion. In the midst of their trying to find meaning in their post-graduate lives, a tangled love-triangle ensues. Mitchell loves Madeline, who loves Leonard, who is manic depressive and by turns loves everything and then nothing. Each of the characters is so different from the other, and each is so strong, that the book grips you in the force of their personalities.
I love the sections focussed on Leonard and on Mitchell. Leonard, like many real-life people with bi-polar disorder, is magnetic, fascinating, and frustrating. Mitchell is his foil--a loner and a wanderer. I never really grasped the reason they both go for Madeline, though I feel a kinship with her in her nerdiness and struggle to find her way. Eugenides delivers musical prose and even humor. I can't recommend this book highly enough to the English Majors in my life (oh, the section on semiotics alone!), and to everyone else: it's a wonderful modern love story.
The Virgin Suicides
By Jeffrey Eugenides
You might as well know, Eugenides has written three novels, one every ten years since 1993. The Virgin Suicides, then Middlesex in 2003 (winner of the Pulitzer Prize), and then The Marriage Plot in 2011. Each of these books is wildly different. You might just as well know that The Virgin Suicides is my least favorite of the three.
Probably the most striking fact about The Virgin Suicides, is that it is written from the first-person-plural perspective, giving an already dream-like book a strange, elusive quality. The book is not so much about a family with five daughters who all commit suicide, but about how we--society-- are simultaneously obsessed with those around us, and completely ignorant of them.
The book begins with the death of the youngest sister and precedes through the months leading up the the deaths of the other four girls. There is a touch of magical realism in the book. Impossible events occur, distorting the POV and timeframe, everything (a tube-top, an elm tree, a stuffed chameleon) is invested with meaning. The book feels very poetic and experimental. In some passages it works and in some you begin to feel sort of adrift in a way I'm not sure is intentional. One passage nicely demonstrates the tone of the book and, fittingly, my feelings about it:
Zodiac
By Robert Graysmith
A true-crime book about a famous serial killer.
Tim and I listened to the audio book version on a camping road trip together. This was a singularly bad idea, as I felt we were going to be stabbed to death in our tent (which was, ironically, set up near a camper full of missionaries) AND that, impossibly, someone was lurking in the overstuffed back seat of our car.
It's rather macabre to say you "enjoyed" a book about a serial killer, but I have to admit that this book got under my skin in a way I couldn't resist.
The Zodiac case is an unsolved series of murders that took place across California in the late 60's and early 70's. The murderer was fond of writing cryptic letters and actual cypher puzzles to area newspapers and detectives, boasting about his crimes. Author Robert Graysmith was a cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle at the time of the Zodiac murders, and took it upon himself to investigate the the murders. (A film version was directed by David Fincher in 2007.) The book goes into detail about the confirmed Zodiac killings, as well as a number that are believed to have been committed by him--upwards of thirty murders. The book benefits from Graysmith's proximity to the events. In some cases, he tails suspects and collects evidence which he presents to the many detectives who worked on murder cases in different counties. It is harrowing to discover how many murder cases have no resolution and no hope of ever being solved.
In general, the writing is very straight-forward, though it can be hard to keep track of the many police officers and reporters described in the book. I'm not sure what twisted impulse leads people (myself included) to read books like this, but I will admit that I was hooked from beginning to end.
Thitherwardly with this week's book reviews! Two books by Jeffrey Eugenides and one about a serial killer.
The Marriage PlotBy Jeffrey Eugenides
I have elsewhere described this book as "an English Major's Utopia/therapy session for lost 20-something (both categories that appeal to me)." It occurs to me through reading reviews by others that these are not universal categories and not everyone was as pleased with this book as I have been. The number one complaint seems to be that all of the characters are white, and one of them is wealthy. To which I reply, "You've never studied the marriage plot in English class, have you?"
Not being an English major shouldn't ruin the reading experience for you--in fact, you'd be amazed how often being an English major ruins it. If literary allusions are a deal-breaker for some, they're my blind spot.
This is the story of three students trying to keep their college graduation from becoming the apogee of their whole lives. Madeline studies English; Leonard, biology; and Mitchell, religion. In the midst of their trying to find meaning in their post-graduate lives, a tangled love-triangle ensues. Mitchell loves Madeline, who loves Leonard, who is manic depressive and by turns loves everything and then nothing. Each of the characters is so different from the other, and each is so strong, that the book grips you in the force of their personalities.
I love the sections focussed on Leonard and on Mitchell. Leonard, like many real-life people with bi-polar disorder, is magnetic, fascinating, and frustrating. Mitchell is his foil--a loner and a wanderer. I never really grasped the reason they both go for Madeline, though I feel a kinship with her in her nerdiness and struggle to find her way. Eugenides delivers musical prose and even humor. I can't recommend this book highly enough to the English Majors in my life (oh, the section on semiotics alone!), and to everyone else: it's a wonderful modern love story.
The Virgin SuicidesBy Jeffrey Eugenides
You might as well know, Eugenides has written three novels, one every ten years since 1993. The Virgin Suicides, then Middlesex in 2003 (winner of the Pulitzer Prize), and then The Marriage Plot in 2011. Each of these books is wildly different. You might just as well know that The Virgin Suicides is my least favorite of the three.
Probably the most striking fact about The Virgin Suicides, is that it is written from the first-person-plural perspective, giving an already dream-like book a strange, elusive quality. The book is not so much about a family with five daughters who all commit suicide, but about how we--society-- are simultaneously obsessed with those around us, and completely ignorant of them.
The book begins with the death of the youngest sister and precedes through the months leading up the the deaths of the other four girls. There is a touch of magical realism in the book. Impossible events occur, distorting the POV and timeframe, everything (a tube-top, an elm tree, a stuffed chameleon) is invested with meaning. The book feels very poetic and experimental. In some passages it works and in some you begin to feel sort of adrift in a way I'm not sure is intentional. One passage nicely demonstrates the tone of the book and, fittingly, my feelings about it:
"Most people remember the Day of Grieving as an obscure holiday. The first three hours of school were canceled and we remained in our home rooms. Teachers passed out mimeographs related to the day's theme, which was never officially announced, as Mrs. Woodhouse felt it inappropriate to single out the girls' tragedy. The result is that the tragedy was diffused and universalized. As Kevin Triggs put it, 'It seemed like we were supposed to feel sorry about everything that happened, ever.'"
ZodiacBy Robert Graysmith
A true-crime book about a famous serial killer.
Tim and I listened to the audio book version on a camping road trip together. This was a singularly bad idea, as I felt we were going to be stabbed to death in our tent (which was, ironically, set up near a camper full of missionaries) AND that, impossibly, someone was lurking in the overstuffed back seat of our car.
It's rather macabre to say you "enjoyed" a book about a serial killer, but I have to admit that this book got under my skin in a way I couldn't resist.
The Zodiac case is an unsolved series of murders that took place across California in the late 60's and early 70's. The murderer was fond of writing cryptic letters and actual cypher puzzles to area newspapers and detectives, boasting about his crimes. Author Robert Graysmith was a cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle at the time of the Zodiac murders, and took it upon himself to investigate the the murders. (A film version was directed by David Fincher in 2007.) The book goes into detail about the confirmed Zodiac killings, as well as a number that are believed to have been committed by him--upwards of thirty murders. The book benefits from Graysmith's proximity to the events. In some cases, he tails suspects and collects evidence which he presents to the many detectives who worked on murder cases in different counties. It is harrowing to discover how many murder cases have no resolution and no hope of ever being solved.
In general, the writing is very straight-forward, though it can be hard to keep track of the many police officers and reporters described in the book. I'm not sure what twisted impulse leads people (myself included) to read books like this, but I will admit that I was hooked from beginning to end.
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