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1957224231
| 9781957224237
| 1957224231
| 4.13
| 1,600,843
| Jun 1890
| Nov 06, 2023
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it was amazing
| There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful.------------------------ There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful.-------------------------------------- “How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June.... If it were only the other way! If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that—for that—I would give everything! Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!”Be careful what you wish for. [image] Oscar Wilde - image from Wikipedia Man sells soul to the devil in return for…something, in this case a body encased in eternal youth, while a portrait takes on the outward manifestation of his aging and his sins. It ends badly, as deals with the devil usually do. This is hardly a unique tale. In fact, it is a bit of a trope, a Faustian bargain. There is a lovely listing here of examples new and old. Absent, of course, is the most famous, and least successful example of a soul-selling, really more of a soul-buying, from Matthew 4:1-11, when the devil made Jesus an offer he actually could refuse. Don Corleone would have been very disappointed. But it is a bit more complicated than that, as these things often are. It is always a challenge and an adventure to read a classic. Books become regarded as a base part of our culture for reasons. They can establish motifs, or ways of seeing the world that resonate with their contemporary audiences (well, not always) and future generations. They can offer us a portrait of a time and place, a culture, a class, a social or political issue. They can illuminate moral questions, deal in universal themes, offer insight into human motivation, whether individually or en masse. And we come to see them in particular ways. In The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the prior re-pub in this Gravelight series, what one finds in the original is not quite what one might expect, given how popular culture has transformed the story by bleaching out important nuance. That is less the case with Dorian Gray, at least in part because there appears to have been fewer iterations of the tale in popular entertainments. But, nonetheless, our understanding of the story is generally of the bare bones sort. There is plenty of flesh to give those bones some added heft. [image] Jeffrey Keeten - they came to take his furniture, but the only way they will take his books is from his cold dead hands - image from his site The history of a book matters. Keeten’s introduction offers an excellent take on how Dorian was received at publication. It generated quite a bit of attention on its release. There were many who were not amused. That may have contributed to the fact that The Picture of Dorian Gray is singular in being the sole novel published by Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde. The subject matter was considered a big no-no in 1890. The Dorian of the title is a man of many tastes, and apparently insatiable appetites. He manages to bring ruin to both men and women. It was not, in particular, the ruination of women that caused a storm. The periodical in which it was first published was withdrawn from bookshops due to the outrage. Wilde was a very popular writer of the time, wearing his sexuality like a badge. A tough stance to assume in a culture that preferred to sate it appetites and interests discretely. His novel was a shocker for the time in portraying homosexuality in interest, if hardly in action. The painter of Dorian’s portrait is clearly smitten with him, dazzled by his physical beauty, which he sees also as representative of an underlying perfection. For all the shock of its homosexual content, there is no physical contact of that sort in the pages. (an earlier version may have been more direct) All is insinuation, suggestion, hinting. It is the same technique that has worked quite well for ages in the horror genre. Shadows, rattling chains, creaky doors, unsourced moans. Sometimes we are offered the shocker scene in which the monster is revealed. The Opera Phantom’s mask is pulled off to reveal the horror of his face. Hyde’s deformity is revealed as the window into Jekyll’s soul. And so it is here. Dorian’s true nature is revealed. The “I’m shocked, shocked” reaction of contemporary critics suggests more about what they were projecting onto the novel than what was actually there. [image] The portrait, used in the 1945 film by Ivan Le Lorraine Albright - image from Wikipedia So, what is the horror that is on display? It is the hedonism of the late 19th century English upper class, sashaying about in the interesting, entertaining, appealing drag of philosophy. Henry argues for the unashamedly sybaritic life. Art need have no meaning, no being other than itself. Apply to humans. Is art, is beauty the highest value? When beauty is left to dangle free, disconnected from any higher value, what is its impact on the world? Actions have no moral content. It is in fact a positive good to live a life dedicated to the primitive accumulation of sensation, through the arts, through physical pleasures, not just of sex, but of sight, smell, sound and touch, to experience beauty in all its forms. Try everything. Art for art’s sake in the guise of human experience. Some people have an amazing ability to come up with excuses for their excesses, explanations, some reason for why they shouldn’t be held accountable for their actions. Like the poor and taxes, we will always have the morally challenged, the malignant narcissists, the sociopaths with us. beauty is a form of genius—is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, or spring-time, or the reflection in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it. You smile? Ah! when you have lost it you won’t smile.... People say sometimes that beauty is only superficial. That may be so, but at least it is not so superficial as thought is. To me, beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible....But if this was on the up and up, there would have been no need to keep one’s behavior secret. It is clearly a place where freedom crosses the line into license. The practitioners of such a “philosophy” knew they were up to no good. They merely wanted to hide from the responsibility. Dr Jekyll was quite happy to have an alter-ego he could let loose on the world, to have the sorts of fun he could not have as himself in public view. They knew, not just that their behavior was wrong, not just that it ran afoul of extant mores, but that their reasoned explanation was taffeta thick. [image] Hurd Hatfield as Dorian in the 1945 film - image from Wikipedia It is not the barely latent bisexuality of the novel that marks Dorian as fallen, it is that he had ruined peoples’ lives, men and women, not by having sex with them, (which is suggested, but never acted out on the pages) but by corrupting them in various ways, by causing them to become as self-centered, as pleasure-seeking as he was. A person can get away with this if he or she is wealthy enough. Paying off porn stars to keep quiet about an extramarital fling certainly fits into such a scenario. Dorian manages to keep his scandals at bay with the use of his wealth. It is as true today as it was when Wilde was writing this book, the selfishness, the hedonism, the amorality of the wealthy feeds on the blood and life forces of those they exploit, few of whom can afford to fight back directly. (You go, E. Jean!) I imagine this is a core of what Wilde was getting at, and the real reason his critics were so angry at him. Dorian does not come to his corruption unaided. He arrives as a beautiful young man, who is seen as being as pristine inside as he is on the surface. The Victorians were very concerned with exteriors, believing that they served as personal screens displaying to the world a person’s character. But then he is introduced to Lord Henry Wotton. Henry proceeds to emit a torrent of nonsense, albeit amusing nonsense, mocking the morals of the time. Wilde, speaking through Henry, is cattier than my living room when I shake a container of treats. Henry offers a torrent of false, cynical aphorisms, suitable material to be printed on small pieces of paper and tucked inside poisoned fortune cookies. Were he opining today, Henry would be posting outrageous clickbait opinions on Twitter. Here are a few examples. They are legion, and will sound familiar in tone to characters from Wilde’s 1895 theatrical triumph, The Importance of Being Earnest …beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid.It is the cynical Henry who finds in the gullible Dorian the raw material with which to cast the young man into a representative of his very hedonistic view of life. Dorian offers the plasticity of the young to the dubious molding of the amoral. The young man is all ears. He even takes time away from the painter, Basil Hallward, to learn at Wotton’s feet. . To a large extent the lad was his own creation. He had made him premature. That was something. Ordinary people waited till life disclosed to them its secrets, but to the few, to the elect, the mysteries of life were revealed before the veil was drawn away. Sometimes this was the effect of art, and chiefly of the art of literature, which dealt immediately with the passions and the intellect. But now and then a complex personality took the place and assumed the office of art, was indeed, in its way, a real work of art, life having its elaborate masterpieces, just as poetry has, or sculpture, or painting.We are offered a bit of background on Dorian, to help explain his vulnerability to Lord Henry’s dark influence. And are even given a bit of theatrical brimstone to explain how the deal with the devil is achieved. Neither really matters much. [image] Angela Lansbury as Sibyl Vane in the 1945 film - image from Wikipedia Early on, Dorian is smitten with a beautiful young actress, Sibyl Vane, who considers him her Prince Charming. It is Sibyl’s appearance, her elevated acting performances, in addition to her beauty, that attracts Dorian. But when her dazzling talent on stage suddenly vanishes, she can no longer offer Dorian the thing he most admired, and he dumps her, cruelly. It is the first crime to which we are witness, the first time his painting changes. The pursuit of beauty and sensation above all else has claimed its first victim. There will be many more, but most of those bad behaviors take place off screen. Wilde put all of himself into this novel “Basil Hallward is what I think I am: Lord Henry is what the world thinks me: Dorian what I would like to be.”Unlike Lord Henry, and Basil Hallward, though, Wilde acted on his urges. Unlike Dorian, Wilde was imprisoned for his actions. Unlike Henry’s and Dorian’s depraved indifference to the harm they caused others, it is not clear that Wilde was a cruel person. Dorian is clearly a corrupt individual. Whether he arrived there unaided or had a push is of secondary importance. Lord Henry is clearly corrupt as well, even though we do not see him engage in any physical acts of treachery. Perhaps the corruption of youth, pulling Keeten goes into some detail on the derivation of the name Dorian Gray. Why not Loki? There are reasons. In fact, there is a lot you will enjoy learning when you check out his introduction. It is rich with detail about the author, the book, and the controversy that surrounded its publication. It also looks at the lasting impact Wilde has had on modern culture. It will definitely increase your appreciation of this wonderful novel. I suppose there might be a modern version in which Gray and his portrait are linked by quantum entanglement, or one should be made if it does not already exist. The battle between inner self and outer manifestation is certainly an eternal literary theme. For the second time, a sojourn down the Gravelight illuminated alley of classic horror has proved stimulating and enlightening. From Keeten’s smart, incisive intro to the chance to see what the original of a household-name classic was really on about, The Picture of Dorian Gray offers a richly rewarding reading experience, clever, funny, dark, shocking, intelligent, satirical, and satisfying. There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful. Review posted - 02/23/24 Publication date – 11/6/23 I received copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from Gravelight Press in return for a fair review. [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] This review has been cross-posted on Coot’s Reviews =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to Keeten’s personal, FB, and Instagram pages Prior reviews for books intro’d by J. Keeten ----- Exhumed: 13 Tales Too Terrifying to Stay Dead – edited by David Yurkovich ----- The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – edited by David Yurkovich Items of Interest -----Les Cent Nouvelles - a book of coarse French stories referenced in Chapter 4 -----Margaret of Valois -----Manon Lescaut - an 18th C. novel in which young lovers live a life of sexual and social freedom, while giving morality little thought – referenced in chapter 4 -----The St. James’s Gazette - referenced in chapter 10 -----Elephantis - author of a sex manual in Classical Greece – noted in Chapter 11 -----Against Nature by Joris-Karl Huysmans – cited in the introduction – Dorian’s reading of this 1884 celebration of sensory gluttony contributes to his corruption -----Wiki Deals with the devil in popular culture ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Feb 17, 2024
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Feb 21, 2024
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Paperback
| |||||||||||||||
0374600309
| 9780374600303
| 0374600309
| 3.96
| 61,764
| Jun 08, 2023
| Aug 15, 2023
|
it was amazing
| In the next town over, a man had killed his family. He’d nailed the doors shut so they couldn’t get out; the neighbours heard them running through In the next town over, a man had killed his family. He’d nailed the doors shut so they couldn’t get out; the neighbours heard them running through the rooms, screaming for mercy. When he had finished he turned the gun on himself.-------------------------------------- For months now she has been having the same dream Of a flood that sweeps through the house Carries off clothes from the wardrobes Toys from the cupboards Food from the table In the dream she is trying to stop it She is wading around, pulling things out of the water But there’s too much to hold in her arms and it overcomes her The current grows stronger Pulls away the appliances the kitchen island tiles from the floor paint from the at the edge of the water watching her go Staring down as she’s swept past In their eyes she is old Her youth is gone too It has all been washed away by the waterThe Barnes family is having their problems. It is 2014 in small-town Ireland. We follow Dickie, Imelda, his wife, PJ, their son, and Cass, a high school senior, through a range of travails. Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina opens with, Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Guess which category the Barnes family fits into. PJ is almost a teen, so will have a lot of growing-up to do, but he is faced already with challenges that are plenty daunting. Coping with bullies at school is no fun, if a particularly usual checklist item in coming-of-age stories. But he is also beset by the thug teen child of one of his father’s customers, who feels his family has been cheated by Dickie. Beatings happen, and more are promised if he does not pay up. And these are the lesser of the challenges he faces. On the upside, he likes spending time hanging out with his father, working on a project in the woods behind their house. [image] Paul Murray - image from the Hindustan Times - shot by Lee Pelligrini Cass has teen-angst aplenty, coping with her social status, her newly-ripening sexuality and her attraction to a promiscuous friend. She is trying to define who she is. (which is not exactly a wonderful person when we meet her.) A part of that is seeing herself as separate from her family. She would definitely not want to be associated with those people. She is particularly hostile to her father, blaming him for the demise of the family business, and the collateral social impact that is having on her. She is not a stunner like her mother, which does not help. The prospect of heading off to college in Dublin offers a concrete escape route, the sooner the better. She is besties, I guess, with Elaine, who is as amoral and unfeeling as she is beautiful. Imelda came from a working-class family. Rough around the edges would be a kind description. But she was born a knockout. It was always going to be her ticket out. She falls in love with the town’s football superstar, Frank. They are to be wed. Frank stands to inherit a successful family business, and should be able to provide nicely for her. Problem is a literal crash and burn, and buh-bye Frank. She winds up marrying Frank’s older, smarter, but not-golden-boyish brother, Dickie. Dickie had the brains for college, and attended, for a few years, until an unfortunate event derailed his collegiate career and he headed home. He may have been the smarter of the brothers, but Frank had the gift of salesmanship, and was a better fit to take over the car dealership. But when Frank dies, it falls to Dickie to step in. He manages, but it is not work he exactly loves. These days, he is spending time in the woods behind their home, building a defense against Armageddon, spurred on by a troll-like employee who exhales conspiracy theories and seems to be looking forward to the coming end-times. He has a lot of time on his hands. The car-dealership is in the crapper. Along with plenty of other businesses, suffering not only from a global economic downturn, but massive flooding in the town. Dickie’s father, Maurice, retired, but still the owner, swoops in to try to fix things, blaming Dickie for the difficulties. Dickie is not entirely faultless here. But there are serious complications with him. We follow these four for over six hundred pages, getting to know them intimately. We learn their secrets, see them change, see them cope with relentless stressors, see them grow, or not. This is the greatest power of the novel. Each is faced with decisions, moral choices, that define their character, that define their changes, maybe their failures. If that were all, it would be an outstanding piece of work, but Murray offers a very rich palette of content as well, raising it to another level. There are many notions that run throughout The Bee Sting’s considerable girth. Space has been reserved to handle them all. The core, of course, is family. Not exactly the most functional, the Barnses. Parents who have been raised to hide their emotions have no natural ability to make a happy home. You couldn’t protect the people you loved – that was the lesson of history, and it struck him therefore that to love someone meant to be opened up to a radically heightened level of suffering. He said I love you to his wife and it felt like a curse, an invitation to Fate to swerve a fuel truck head-on into her, to send a stray spark shooting from the fireplace to her dressing gown. He saw her screaming, her poor terrified face beneath his, as she writhed in flames on the living-room carpet. And the child too! Though she hadn’t yet been born, she was there too. All night he listened to her scream in his head – he couldn’t sleep from it, he just lay there and sobbed, because he knew he couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect her enough…On top of which, secrets abound. They are all trying to find a way out, except for PJ, who is mostly interested in seeing things returned to the way they were before the dealership miseries began, and radiated outward. Murray shows how dysfunction and damage can carry forward from one generation to the next, the brutality of Imelda’s family, the emotional absence of Dickie’s. But all has not been destroyed. When Dad was fun everything was fun. Not just holidays, not just Christmas. Going to the supermarket! Cutting the grass! At bedtime they had pyjama races, they read Lord of the Rings cover to cover, they put a torch under their chins and told each other ghost stories…Family connection is important, mostly in the desire of most to sever it. Dickie was desperate as a young man to get away, get an education, do something other than sell cars for the rest of his life. Imelda came from a toxic family (not all of them) and also struggles with her connection to the family she is in, for current-day part of the story. Cass wants out, ASAP. Tethers are cut, but some are also sewn. The tension between these struggles is fuel for the story. Murray looks at the impact of the environment on peoples’ lives. The story is set at the tail end of the recession from the Celtic Tiger boom that had preceded. The economic environment was still pretty tough and we see how this impacts the family. It will come as no shock that a major, unusual, flood impacts Dickie’s already sinking business, with talk of liquidation, that a water leak in the Barnes house carries omens, and that Imelda dreams of being washed away, as she is forced to cope with losing the luxury level lifestyle to which she thinks her incredible beauty entitles her. Cass’s collegiate prospects and social standing are endangered. Other players in the story are challenged as well. PJ is fast out-growing all his clothing, but does not want to be a burden on the now-struggling family, so keeps quiet and castigates his feet for growing too much. There is a stream involving the presence of gray squirrels in Ireland. They are an invasive species, as of a century back, and carry a disease that is fatal to the native red squirrels. Are they the only locals in danger of being wiped out? Another stream is the notion of returning, coming back from the dead, in particular. Some people might say that the key problem is with coming back from the dead specifically. Because obviously death is a pretty serious step with all kinds of long-term effects that you’re not going to just shake off. But lately you’ve noticed it with other things too, that even though they never actually died, when they came back from where they’d gone they were still completely changed.Imelda keeps looking for the ghost of Frank to show up at her wedding to Dickie. Dickie is definitely not the same after returning from Dublin. Same for Cass and PJ. Other characters, a maid, a mechanic, a patriarch, return as well, with mixed results. …is it worth taking the risk? Sometimes? If you could still sort of see the person they were and you thought maybe there was still enough time, if you knew what to do or say?Bees get a bit of attention, if a bit less than expected. The bee sting of the title is inflicted on Imelda, on her way to her wedding to Dickie. Her face was in no condition to be seen, so every wedding picture of her is through her veil. There is another passage about the mating habits of bees. It does not end well for the males. …the pesticide the farmers use on plants contains a neuro-toxin that destroys their memory so they forget their way home, can’t make it back to the hive where they live, and that’s why they’re dying out. When they looked in the hives they found them not full of dead bees, but mysteriously empty. Maybe that’s what happened to Cass, you think. Maybe air pollution in the city has damaged her brain and now she’s forgotten her home. Though really you know it started way before she came here.The impact of stinging on the stinger is also considered. There is even a bit of magic as Imelda’s Aunt Rose has a particular gift, sees things that others cannot, says sooths, a family thing, but not one that Imelda has ever manifested. Murray writes in differing styles. Most of the book is presented as third-person omniscient, describing the actions and peering inside to reveal the characters’ thoughts and feelings. Standard stuff. The final section, The Age of Loneliness, is written in the second person. We alternately assume the POV of the main characters, as each races toward the stunning climax. Imelda gets a breathless, minimally formatted structure. There is a sample in the second quote at the top of this review. I wrote Imelda’s section, and I knew she was on her way to this dinner… I wrote that first line like she, well, she needs to use the bathroom really urgently. And I put commas in and a full stop. And it did not feel right at all. The only way to write it was without the punctuation, and I wanted it to feel like you’re in her head. She doesn’t parse things in the same educated way that Dickie or indeed the kids would do. She just thinks in this much more immediate, intensive way. When you go from the kids’ sections into Imelda’s section, I wanted it to feel like, woah, there’s a change in gear here. Like there’s something’s going on that hasn’t been apparent up until now. At this moment in her life, but maybe at every point in her life, everything feels extremely precarious. She’s on this knife edge, all the time. She always feels like everything’s going to collapse, the floor is going to disappear from under her and she’s going to just tumble down into the past with her abusive dad and the poverty and the grimness and stuff. - from the. Hindustani Times interviewIt would not be a Paul Murray novel if you did not come away from the reading without a few more laugh lines in your face. He takes the most liberty with this in the teens’ sections, the most reminiscent of the grand, rude humor of Skippy Dies to be found here. For example Nature in her eyes was almost as bad as sports. The way it kept growing? The way things, like crops or whatever, would die and then next year they came back? Did no one else get how creepy that was?You get the idea. Love this stuff. So what’s not to like? Nothing, nothing at all. This is a wonderful, engaging, risk-taking, funny, moving, horrifying, engaging, biting, human triumph of a novel. You may feel stung by elements in this great tale, but you will come away with a literary trove of honey. Ireland is a place where people are very good at talking. People are so funny and have such brilliant stories, and it’s a way to disguise what you’re actually feeling. The reason, I think, is because this is a place where very terrible things have happened and the way we deal with them is by not addressing them. So I feel like the ghosts are alive and they’re active. The past is affecting what you’re doing in a very real way. And if you don’t address the issues, then the darkness just grows, and the damage gets passed down from one generation to the next, like in the book. – from the Guardian interview Review posted - 12/8/23 Publication dates ----------Hardover – 8/15/23 ----------Trade paperback - 5/2/24 The Bee Sting was short-listed for the Booker Prize I received an ARE of The Bee Sting from FSG in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating. [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] This review is cross-posted on my site, Coot’s Reviews. Stop by and say Hi! =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to Paul Murray pages on Wikipedia and Goodreads Interviews -----Hindustani Times - Paul Murray – “Climate change is something I worry about all the time” by Saudamini Jain – READ THIS ONE ----- The Guardian - Paul Murray: ‘I just dumped all my sadness into the book’ by Killian Fox -----The Booker Prizes - A Q&A with Booker Prize 2023 shortlisted author Paul Murray - video – 4:08 My review of an earlier book by Murray -----Skippy Dies – one of the best books EVER! Items of Interest from the author -----New York Magazine – 3/15/23 - Who is Still Inside the Metaverse? -----The Guardian - Paul Murray: ‘How the banks got rich off poor people would be a painful read without comedy’ on The Mark and the Void -----Boston College Libraries – Fall 2022 - How to Write a Novel - video – 1:20:05 - Paul from 7:45 - On the book from 18:25 – well, sort of - Largely about why it took so long between novels – and his experience with screenwriting - Wicked funny, too. -----Outlook India - Excerpt ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Nov 27, 2023
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Dec 04, 2023
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Hardcover
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1501189271
| 9781501189272
| 1501189271
| 3.44
| 8,831
| Oct 18, 2022
| Oct 18, 2022
|
it was amazing
| Think of your first good kiss. Was it life-changing, or was it no big deal? Do you remember how old you were? Did it matter, at the time, who gave Think of your first good kiss. Was it life-changing, or was it no big deal? Do you remember how old you were? Did it matter, at the time, who gave it to you? Do you even remember who it was?-------------------------------------- Autobiography just isn’t good or bad enough to work as fiction… Unrevised, real life is just a mess.The overall format is one of a frame, with Adam Brewster opening by letting us know that this is the story of his life and times, then returning to turn out the lights when the tale has been completed. It is a family saga of Irving’s era, 50’s 60s, (Vietnam) 70s, 80s (Reagan, AIDS) et al, to the mad, reactionary violence of the 21st century. Adam Brewster, a writer and screenwriter, is our narrator for a look at the sexual politics of a lifetime, from his birth in 1941 to his later days some eighty years on. Adam’s mother, Rachel Brewster (Little Ray), was a nearly-pro ski nut, who spent large parts of every year on the slopes, settling for work as an instructor. That left Adam in the hands of his grandmother for much of his upbringing, assisted by a passel of relations. He would hunger for time with his only known parent for much of his life, a core element of the novel. [image] John Irving - image from Outside Magazine Readers of John Irving will recognize much that is familiar, from his prior work and his life. The novel is set in Exeter, New Hampshire, Irving’s home town; includes a benign stepparent teaching at Phillips Exeter (as his actual stepfather did); includes the narrator as a student there. Yep, Irving attended. There is wrestling, of course. Bears are limited to a kind of snowshoe shaped like their paws. A hotel figures large. There is an absent biological father, (Irving’s father was in the US Army Air Force. He never met him.); a mother with too many secrets; there is also reference made to an inappropriate relationship between an adult woman and an underage boy. (something Irving himself experienced); considerable attention is directed to feeling like, to being, an outsider. ”That’s just who you are, Adam,” my older cousin said. “There’s a foreignness inside you—beginning with where you come from. The foreignness is in you—that’s just who you are. You and me and Ray—we’re outliers.”In fact, Irving turns the tables here, as Adam, as the only straight among the main characters, is the outsider in his own family, always the last to get things, he is nonetheless loved and supported by his sexually diverse relations. His mother’s lifelong lover, Molly, effectively his stepmother, tells Adam, “There’s more than one way to love people, Kid.” It serves as a core message for the book and for Irving’s oeuvre. One of the main characters is transgender. He first wrote a sympathetic trans character in The World According to Garp, in 1978. So, when his son, born many years after the book was published, came out to his parents as trans, she knew her father would be completely supportive. The politics of divergent sexuality through time manifests in diverse venues. Raucous comedic material performed at a comedy club in one era is considered too much for a later sensibility, a new puritanism of correctness. Safety for being different is a concern. Adam is very worried when his stepfather is out in their town dressed as a woman, even trails him sometimes in case a backup is needed. Reagan’s unwillingness to address AIDS until six years into his presidency is noted. Acceptance increases over time, but increased acceptance sparks increased resistance. A performer of material deemed unacceptable to some becomes a target for violence in a more disturbed climate. In addition to the overarching theme of looking at sexual politics, sexuality is shown as far less important than the connection between people. Things that may seem sexual actually have a lot less to do with sex than connection. For instance, Adam and his mother often sleep together, in the slumbering, not biblical sense, well past the age where that is generally deemed ok. There is another relationship in which a straight man and a gay woman share a bed, sans fooling around. There is hilarity aplenty, not least with Adam’s young sequence of damaged or damaging lovers. Lots of cringy LOL material there. I counted a dozen “LOLs” in my notes, some for entire chapters. And then there are ghosts. Irving calls this a ghost story. I refer you to a piece on his site that addresses this directly. Ghosts don’t just warn us about the future; they remind us of what we’ve forgotten about the past. All this is to say, I have a history of being interested in ghosts. And here come the ghosts again. In my new novel…the ghosts are more prominent than before; the ghosts, or hints of ghosts, begin and end the novel.We all have ghosts we live with, but the ones here are visible, well, to some, anyway. They hang out in large numbers at a hotel in Aspen, but also turn up at home. The spectres are historical and familial, with some able to interact with the physical world (sometimes with LOL results) sometimes condemned to remain non-impactful. They do indeed, as noted above, remind us of the past, sometimes darkly so, but some offer direction and comfort. And Irving uses his behemoth of a novel to keep generating new ones. They pass over in a wide range of ways; lightning, murder on a stage, sudden avalanche, cancer, suicide, murder in a hotel, falling from a chairlift, leaping from a chairlift, death in war, et al. Falkner famously said “The past is never dead. It’s not even the past.” I guess it could be said for many characters in The Last Chairlift that even the dead are never entirely dead. Adam’s profession offers ample opportunity for Irving (winner of a National Book Award AND a screenwriting Oscar) to present a wealth of material about writing, both for the screen and for print. “My life could be a movie,” you hear people say, but what do they mean? Don’t they mean their lives are too incredible to be real—too unbelievably good or bad? “My life could be a movie” means you think movies are both less than realistic and more than you can expect from real life. “My life could be a movie” means you think your life has been special enough to get made as a movie; it means you think your life has been spectacularly blessed or cursed.-------------------------------------- Imagining the stories you want to write, and waiting to write them, is part of the writing process—like thinking about the characters you want to create, but not creating them. Yet when I did this, when I was just a kid at Exeter—when I thought about writing all the time, but I never finished anything I was writing—this amounted to little more than daydreaming.-------------------------------------- you don’t see with hindsight in a first draft. You have to finish the first draft to see what you’ve missed.-------------------------------------- Fiction writers like what we call truthful exaggeration. When we write about something that really happened—or it almost happened, could have happened—we just enhance what happened. Essentially, the story remains real, but we make it better than it truly was, or we make it more awful—depending on our inclination.There are many more—it is a very long book—but this last one in particular speaks very directly to Irving’s process. As noted up top, he returns to familiar themes and situations. In interviews he says that he begins with the same life experiences, but then changes where they go, how they morph, as if his creative process was to take the stem cells of his experiences and direct them to grow into a wide range of possible pieces. Same source, different outcomes. It is not just the characters and situation that have morphed, it is the form as well. As Adam is a screenwriter as well as a novelist, and as this story is Adam’s, it is fitting that how he perceives the world makes its way into how he presents his story. There are long chapters that are written in screenplay format, complete with fade-ins, fade-outs, off-screen narration, closeups, wide-shots, the whole toolkit. It is an interesting tactic. I found it off-putting, but it does allow for a different approach to the material. He does not just talk about writing per se, but incorporates into the novel considerable attention to his favorite book of all time, Moby Dick. (he has the last line of Moby Dick tattooed on his left forearm) This book opens with My mother named me Adam…, which resonates with Call me Ishmael and no less with …I am born from David Copperfield, Dickens being a particular Irving favorite. He sees himself as more of a 19th century novelist than a 21st century one. …because those novels have always represented the model of the form for me. I loathed Hemingway. I thought Faulkner was excessive. Fitzgerald was ok, but lazy at times. I was enamored of the kind of novel all of my classmates at school despised.References to Melville’s masterpiece (sometimes hilariously), Dickens, Ibsen, and plenty of others abound. It is pretty clear that John Irving has had an interesting life. Eighty years old at the time of publication, he does not see The Last Chairlift as his last hurrah. In fact, he signed a three-book deal with Simon and Schuster, of which this was merely the first. He promises, though, that the next two will be a lot shorter. Until then, this one will certainly suffice. Irving has lost none of his sense of humor. This book was more than occasionally laugh-out-loud funny. He has lost none of his feel for writing relatable humans. While some of the supporting cast are painted in broad strokes, to illustrate this or that sociopolitical issue of a given time, the main ones, and even hordes of second-tier characters are drawn with fine lines, and deep sensitivity. He has lost none of his vision, seeing clearly the currents of the eras considered, and how those have impacted social and political possibility for rounded humans who do not fit the square holes of a boilerplate majority. For all that Irving writes about people who are different, he makes it eminently clear that in matters that count we all share the same needs, to be loved, seen, and respected for who we are. Here’s hoping it will not be another seven years until we get to enjoy another of John Irving’s marvelous works. …the dead don’t entirely go away—not if you see them on the subway, or in your heart. Review first posted – February 18, 2023 Publication dates ----------October 18, 2022 - Hardcover ----------October 3, 2023- Trade paperback I received an ARE of The Last Chairlift from Simon & Schuster in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating. [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] [image] This review has been cross-posted on my site, Coot’s Reviews. Stop by and say Hi! =============================EXTRA STUFF Irving's personal and FB pages Interviews -----CBS Sunday Morning - John Irving: A Writer’s Life with Rita Braver – a delight - Sees himself as a 19th century writer -----Late Night with Seth Meyers - John Irving Doesn't Write a Book Until He Knows How It's Going to End -----Freethought Matters - Freethought Matters: John Irving - video – 28:08 – with Ann Laurie Gaylor and Dan Barker - Interview begins at 2:57 – focus on chairlift begins at about 18:00 -----NPR Podcasts - Book of the Day - 'The Last Chairlift' is John Irving's latest novel on sexual politics with Scott Simon – Audio – 10:26 -----Hazlift - ‘Hope is an Elusive Quality’: An Interview with John Irving by Haley Cunningham -----Toronto Star - Hugging us back in the dark: John Irving on making us care about his characters, sexual politics, and the ghosts in his new book ‘The Last Chairlift’ by Deborah Dundas Items of Interest from the author -----Here Come the Ghosts Again on ghosts in his novels -----CBS News - excerpt -----Lithub - excerpt My review of another book by the author -----In One Person Items of Interest ----- Moby Dick - Full text – with annotations -----David Copperfield - Full text – with footnote annotations ...more |
Notes are private!
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not set
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Jan 29, 2023
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Jul 01, 2022
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Hardcover
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006298442X
| 9780062984425
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| 429
| Jun 30, 2020
| Jun 30, 2020
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it was amazing
| “You ever get the feeling,” she said…”that somebody else already did all this shit? That we’re, like, just watching it happen?”------------------ “You ever get the feeling,” she said…”that somebody else already did all this shit? That we’re, like, just watching it happen?”-------------------------------------- Short, thin, with narrow shoulders. The head just a little too big for that slight body, skull-like, all forehead and cheekbones, narrow as a trowel at the mouth.First, let’s get something clear straight away. While there is a sci-fi-ish element extant in Nine Shiny Objects, this is not really a sci-fi novel. We never really get more sci-fi than a newspaper account of Kenneth Arnold’s seminal saucer sighting. The only actual extra-normal element is a bit of fantasy in the final chapter, and a bit of dream work. The novel is a linked-stories narrative of historical fiction. Just so’s ya know. It begins in 1947. Oliver Danville had just washed out of a not very promising acting career. But, in a local drinking establishment, he got to see the curtains close on a charmer named Necky, someone Oliver feared mightily, someone to whom Oliver owed two hundred bucks, someone who was expected to take partial payment in the form of broken bones. Knowing a sign when he sees one, and now relieved of that particular debt, Oliver heads out, determines to straighten up, live an upstanding life, maybe marry a librarian. He slips into a booth at the local automat, and, over his tuna, coffee, and apple pie, reads about a pilot over the Cascades who reported seeing nine shiny objects that reminded him of tea saucers. With twenty eight bucks to his name, Oliver begins hitchhiking west, feeling a calling, (…he felt the buzzing coming on, like a drug.) and the game is afoot. The nine shiny objects of the title refer not only to the UFO MacGuffin, but to the interlinked stories of Oliver and eight other characters. The tales cover the period from 1947 to 1987, a look at the United States over that forty-year span. Central to all the stories is the notion of ideals, of dreaming. (Everybody’s looking for something.) Maybe American dreams, maybe just human dreams. Everyone wants something that feels, or is, wrapped up in a maybe someday. Castleberry presents us with a range of hopes. But there is a dark undercurrent as well, whether we call it a stain on the American soul, or the presence of evil in the world, light versus dark, hope versus despair, optimism versus pessimism. The challenge is there, and few hopes slip past its Argus-like gaze unaffected. Claudette Doneo, twenty years old, had aspired to emulate her high school teacher, Mrs Garfield, and see the world. She would also love to find someone with whom she could share life’s adventure. But her aggressive boss at the greasy spoon where she is getting by in Del Mar, CA, definitely ain’t it. When she meets Eileen (Oliver’s sister), who is running a new local church from an old warehouse, some new possibilities are revealed. They are an odd lot, looking to space ships to take them up to heaven. But Eileen seems pretty nice. Marlene Ranagan, in 1957, is living a life of suburban despair. She and her husband are a Jewish couple in a not-so-welcoming NYC suburb, one featuring covenants no deity would inspire. She yearns for something better than having to pop a mother’s little helper whenever her feelings get the better of her, and having a husband who is content to spend his free time in front of the TV watching cowboy movies and drinking beer. She is not without her interests, though, a neighbor who might become more than just that, and an education in art she had ignored to become a homemaker. A stranger comes to town looking for a war-buddy who had taken up with some crazy UFO cult, and the town does not know how to deal with him. [image] Brian Castleberry - image from his site Stanley West is a struggling black writer, living in Harlem with his uncle, a professor at the City College of New York. A bit of a poser, he is trying to find himself, poet, painter, ne‘er do well. He has a very dark run-in with a suburban crowd that find him a convenient target for their misplaced fear and rage. Take one Black man. Add a dollop of Bircher-level mentality leading a fearful suburban enclave, and the results are grim. In 1967, Skip Michaels sells Great Books subscriptions door to door, partaking of the product in hotel rooms, diminishing day by day in a soul-suck of a marriage, and tries to cope with being a northeasterner living in very southern Jacksonville. But in his heart of hearts, he always had an artistic yearning. He never got far with it, but fate has a surprise in store, in the form of a gumdrop-shaped insurance salesman, who passes on some information that sparks Skip’s long-sidelined dream anew. Alice “Listen Up People” Linwood is a forty-eight-year-old counterculture radio personality in 1972 Phoenix. She spouts what a lot of people see as conspiracy theory folderol. But her audience is growing, particularly since she began focusing on Nixon and Watergate. Alice used to belong to a group whose motto was “Look to the Stars,” but after JFK was assassinated she cast her gaze a bit lower. The big deal impending is that her primary source is in town, on the run, with major dirt for her that can change her world. Joan Halford still lives in Long Island’s Ridge Landing in 1977, about ten years after her bigot of a husband passed. The guy was so sweet that their son, Scott, a drummer in a band, declined to return home for the funeral. She and her husband had done some damage with their intolerance, but time and reflection have taken a toll. Joan may be ready to move past some of her boundaries and enjoy a wider vista. This was the hankie tale of the bunch for me. If she had a choice, if she’d learned anything tonight, she would never speak to any of them again. But she knew, here, too, that this wasn’t how things would work out. She would find a way to call Stacy, and later find a way to ask Wolfboy’s forgiveness. And inside she would hate them both a little for knowing her too long, for not letting her change, not letting her find out who she really was. What she was, what she wanted to be, or what she wanted others to see in her was that song “Pretty Vacant” by the Sex Pistols, just emptied out and gone, as if someone better than Ted or Chris or anyone ever asked her, that’s what she would say and if they laughed, she would beat them to the ground like she had Wolfboy. Or she wouldn’t. Of course she wouldn’t.1982, Debbie Vasquez is playing Ms. Pac-Man at the Crazy-Eight Arcade in Waterbury, CT. Her friend Nathan, aka Wolfboy, invites her to a party being held by Brain-Dead Ted. (She’d rather dig her eyeballs out with sporks.) But Nathan’s brother’s band will be playing at the party and she’s got it bad for them. Her father is/was a rock star, so music permeates, but he was not much of a father. She’s got issues, which manifest in her being tough-as-nails. She has very push-pull relationships with her friends. Debbie lives with her mother, and has not yet found her dream, but grows a piece over a tough night of experiencing and remembering. I grew up in a small town in Oklahoma. In the late ’80s a mall was built in the next town over, and at its center — as far as I was concerned — was this dark arcade where I would occasionally run into people I knew from school or others of my age from nearby towns. I feel like in my pre-teen imagination the place was a kind of salon for dorks like me. Of course, I’d only have 15 or 20 minutes to roam around wasting quarters while my mom was looking at shoes or something. But it’s buried deep in there, and through that memory I discovered the character of Debbie, who is much cooler than I ever was, and much tougher. - from the Bookweb interviewIn 1987, Mikhail Gorbachev and Ronald Reagan were talking treaty, the former trying to hold the wolves at bay over his Perestroika and Glasnost policies, the latter contending with his Robert Bork failure and Iran-Contra scandal. Jack Penrod has troubles of his own. Originally, he’d pictured retiring at fifty-nine to be filled with travel and projects around the house. Instead he’d spent most of his time puttering from room to room and getting on his wife’s nerves. She wasn’t used to him being around all day…what he really wanted to tell her he couldn’t put together in words. Something about how he missed her so desperately, how it seemed anymore they were strangers passing on a sidewalk, how he’d started to itch with this feeling that he’d wasted all his life doing next to nothing.His dead brother keeps appearing to him, alive as you or me. He is not, sadly, visible to Jack’s long-suffering wife, who had thought her husband was done with this delusion years before. It seems Jack’s brother has a mission, a twelve-step-like need to make at least some amends. The late brother had not led the most exemplary life, although he did hold the family together after their parents left, when the brothers were teens. There was a particular apology he needed Jack to give for him. Road Trip! Jack speaks of the past with the partner of the apology recipient. As she spoke about it all, he began to see it in his mind, and as it formed, he felt a warm glow at the base of his neck. Here was a dream, yes, and the two of them, connected to it only by hearsay, frolicked in its possibilities. A town was more like a family, spreading out in all directions, changing its neighboring towns like falling dominoes. The vision of this better place seemed so easy to make true, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and taking her hand in his. To his surprise they had already become friends.There are two seminal events from which the rest emanate like shock-waves from a blast, the UFO sighting in 1947 and a Tulsa-like pogrom years later. They serve to tie the tales together, giving the hum of historical background sound a structure. Cults come in for a bi-polar look. The Seekers of the 1940s may have had some nutty canon, but they were a benign, hopeful group, forward-looking, cheerful, friendly, warm. A very different sort of cult forms around a rock star, based on hedonism and nihilism. That musician is another character who gets minimum direct screen time, but whose influence permeates the stories. Characters are linked to each other from story to story, one or two at a time. The image I kept in my head as I wrote and revised was of a painting with a foreground and background. In the foreground are these characters in each of their stories, but looming behind them is this shared background…this structure allowed me to create a sense of characters flowing through history, absorbed in their personal lives even though we (readers, I mean) can see and understand that history, those bigger shifts happening around and to them. - from the Vol. 1 Brooklyn interviewCastleberry has given his characters range, even if we only see them for a ninth of the book, and a smattering beyond. They question their lives, their futures, and their pasts. There is, however, a character who appears in person or by reference in most of the stories, Zelig-like, whose goal seems to be to make the most misery for the most people, to pour buckets of cold water on the fires of passion, to spark fires where the potential exists to cause a conflagration, to lie, deceive, and worse, much worse. He embodies the antithesis of hope, the line you may not cross. Castleberry gives him a human form, and banality to boot, although I wondered in reading if he may have hopped off one of those 1947 saucers, if it had come from a hostile civilization. Overall, this is an exceptional book. The linked-stories form succeeds in offering close looks at a diverse cast of characters while still taking us through a stretch of 20th century America. Castleberry looks at hopes and dreams, the challenges they face, and how they might vary from era to era. For this first novel, we might refer to Sam Spade, in The Maltese Falcon, misquoting Shakespeare, for a suitable summary. It’s the stuff that dreams are made of. He looked up into the deep vastness above, hoping for a shooting star to arc earthward, something he could take home as a sign. But there was only the chill in the air and the big country around him, floating loose, unmoored, starved for meaning. Review posted – July 10, 2020 Publication dates ----------June 30, 2020 - hardcover ----------August 17, 2021 - trade paperback ==========In the summer of 2019 GR reduced the allowable review size by 25%, from 20,000 to 15,000 characters. In order to accommodate the text beyond that I have moved it to the comments section directly below. [image] ...more |
Notes are private!
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Jun 07, 2020
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Jun 16, 2020
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Jun 16, 2020
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ebook
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1982121491
| 9781982121495
| 1982121491
| 4.04
| 4,566
| Nov 24, 2020
| Nov 24, 2020
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it was amazing
| “What did they see, Mama?” I murmured to her. “What was it that came to meet the birds that flew into the west?” “What did they see, Mama?” I murmured to her. “What was it that came to meet the birds that flew into the west?”--------------------------------------- …not all migrations end with a return home. Every memory begins to cut if you hold onto it too tight.Reading Zeyn Joukhadar’s The Thirty Names of Night is like walking through an incredibly rich and diverse aviary. Our attention is drawn to each flying thing as it comes into our visual range. No sooner do we coo at the beauty of the last than another feathered image hops into view. As in an actual aviary, there is an entrance and an exit. The flocks, and individuals, provide a landscape as we pass through dips and rises in the path, arriving at recognitions as we reach the end. There is a lot going on here. [image] Zeyn Joukhadar - image from his FB profile pix There are three generations and two alternating narrators in this beautiful novel. The twenty-something unnamed (well, for most of the book anyway) narrator is busy creating a mural in what once was Little Syria, before the neighborhood was mostly razed to make the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel and the World Trade Center. One of the last remnants is an old community house. Led by an owl (not the Hogwarts sort, although it does, in a way, carry a message) to a particular place inside the building, he discovers a hidden journal, left by a woman missing for sixty years, a woman his mother had very much admired. He had been looking for clues to his late mother’s life in her old neighborhood, so this is a rich find. [image] “The Syrian Colony” – image from Paris Review article Laila Z was a Syrian immigrant, whose family moved from their troubled home to New York in the 1930s, when she was a teenager. In addition to the usual emotional trauma of such a move, Laila was broken-hearted at having to leave the love of her life. In New York, she begins writing to her lost love, whom we know only as “B” or “little wing.” Laila’s journal makes up half the story. Our contemporary narrator tells his story as he talks to his late mother, whose ghost he can see. Chapters alternate. [image] Canada Goose Learning about Laila’s life reveals an unsuspected history of gay and trans people from another era. Laila and our unnamed narrator have much in common. Laila was born in Syria, the narrator was born in the USA of Syrian stock. Laila was a gifted painter of birds. Our narrator is as well, using chalk instead of aquatint. Laila, in the 1930s, dared to love outside the acceptable norms of her culture. Our narrator finds himself struggling to find his way while born into a female body. [image] A Hudhud or Hoopoe - image from Oiseaux.net There is a mystery at the center that keeps things moving along. Laila had made a name for herself in the USA as an exceptional artist, specializing in birds. One pair she drew was a new species she had seen, nesting in New York, Geronticus simurghus, a kind of ibis. It is known that she’d done so, but the final image had never been found. Through a friend, our contemporary narrator meets Qamar, the granddaughter of a black ornithologist who’d worked in the 1920s and 1930s. He had been the first to describe this new species, but had never been taken seriously, in the absence of corroboration. Laila’s missing artwork would provide that, and allow Qamar to complete her grandfather’s work. What happened to that piece, and what became of Laila? G. simurghus was named by its discoverer for a character in the Persian poem The Conference of the Birds. If Simorgh unveils its face to you, you will findThe central, peripheral, overhead, and underfoot imagery in this novel is BIRDS. This includes tales from ancient classics, like the one above. Joukhadar infuses nearly every page with birds, real, magically real, drawn, painted, folded, and sometimes by allusion. Flocks appear, to enhance events. Goldfinches swarm during a building demolition. Forty-eight sparrows fall from the sky on the fifth anniversary of the narrator’s mother’s death. The first funeral I attended was held under a black froth of wings. The deceased was a crow that had been gashed in the belly by a red-tailed hawk…That was the day my body started conspiring against me. I’d gotten my period.B makes Laila a gift, a piece of a dead kite they had tried to save, fallen feathers stitched back to make a magnificent silver-white wing. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Our narrator’s mother had been an ornithologist. A close friend of his mother operates a bird-rescue aviary in Queens. An evening at a club entails people dancing, using very bird-like movements. Birds are both expressions of freedom and reflections of a divine presence. They are manifestations of underlying forces and sources of purest love and beauty. They are a means by which people connect with other people. [image] Passenger Pigeon by Robert Havell - image from the National Gallery of Art As our contemporary narrator struggles through finding the answer to the rest of Laila’s story, and figuring out what had happened to that special aquatint, he struggles as well with defining who he is. This is something with which Joukhadar is familiar. Zeyn came out publicly in Spring 2019 as transgender, and is now using he/him pronouns. This is not the only transition he has gone through. After earning a Ph.D in Medical Sciences from Brown, and working as a researcher for several years, he moved on to pursuing writing as a full-time gig. He is very interested in the immigrant experience, and the status of Muslims in the USA. I am tied by blood to Syria, and the country where my father was born is suffering while the country in which I was born still views us as not fully American. Where, then, does that leave me? And for people of Syrian descent living in diaspora, particularly for the generation of children who will grow up in exile because their parents left Syria for safety reasons, what can we take with us? What do we carry with us that cannot be lost? - from the Goodreads interview [image] Yellow Crowned Night Heron - by John James Audubon - image from Wayfair Go slowly through this one. There is much to take in, from the avian imagery to the tales of Laila and our narrator, from the flight from Syria to making a home in Manhattan’s Little Syria, from the destruction of that neighborhood to its migration to Brooklyn, from bloody events summoning revelations to love and connection across generations, from the real to the magical, from a portrait of a long-ago place to a look at today, from a place of not knowing to seeing truths beneath the surface. The Thirty Names of Night is a remarkable novel. Spread your wings, catch a thermal and hover. Take in the considerable landscape of content and artistry provided here. This aviary is very tall and there is so much to see. We parted. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. Review posted – June 5, 2020 Publication dates ----------Hardcover was supposed to be May 19, 2020 – but got CV19’d to November 3, 2020 ----------Trade paperback - July 13, 2021 I received an ARE of this book from Atria in return for a few seeds, worms, and some extra twigs for nest fortifications. =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to the author’s personal, Twitter, GR, Instagram, and FB pages Interviews - for his earlier book – recent interviews have eluded me -----The Booklist Reader- Syria and Synesthesia: An Interview with Debut Author Zeyn Joukhadar By Biz Hyzy -----Goodreads - Debut Author Snapshot: Jennifer Zeynab Joukhadar Songs/Music -----Fairuz - Ya Tayr -----Little Wing - Hendrix (live) -----The Wind Beneath My Wings Items of Interest -----Paris Review - Little Syria by Angela Serratore -----Wikipedia- Little Syria -----The National - The battle to save New York's 'Little Syria' from being forgotten -----6SqFt - The history of Little Syria and an immigrant community’s lasting legacy- by Dana Schulz -----Adubon’s Birds of America -----Birds in Islamic Culture -----The Cornell Lab Bird Academy - Everything You Need To Know About Feathers by Mya Thompson ----- Public Domain Review - Marvels of Things Created and Miraculous Aspects of Things Existing by Qazwini -----Wikipedia - The Conference of the Birds by Maqāmāt-uṭ-Ṭuyūr ...more |
Notes are private!
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May 10, 2020
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May 24, 2020
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May 10, 2020
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Hardcover
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006289000X
| 9780062890009
| 006289000X
| 4.26
| 51,168
| Feb 06, 2020
| Apr 28, 2020
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it was amazing
| …we can never run with our lies indefinitely. Sooner or later we are forced to confront their darkness. We can choose the when not the if. And the …we can never run with our lies indefinitely. Sooner or later we are forced to confront their darkness. We can choose the when not the if. And the longer we wait, the more painful and uncertain it will be.This is a stunning work of surpassing beauty! [image] Tomasz Jedrowski - image from Interview Magazine Ludwik Glowaki did not fit in. Communist Poland in the 1980s. A period when the old regime was beginning to crumble. A time when being gay was a criminal offense. Ludwik, living in New York City, looks back at a life that is still young, remembers his first crush, on an older, more developed boy, one he came close to kissing, and certainly loved. But Beniek did not fit in either, for different reasons, and one day he mysteriously disappears. As a teen, Ludwik has a fleeting sexual experience. But when he is 22, he is sent to a typical communist re-education summer camp, to learn about peasant, farming life, riding with his schoolfriend Karolina. Over their four years in college she had introduced him to a variety of influences, Simone de Beauvoir. Milosz, Szymborska, Kapuscinski, and others. This is how I lived back then—through books. I locked myself into their stories, dreamt of their characters at night, pretended to be them. They were my armor against the hard edges of reality. I carried them with me wherever I went, like a talisman in my pocket, thinking of them as almost more real than the people around me, who spoke and lived in denial, destined, I thought, to never do anything worth recounting.Walking one day by the river near the camp, he sees a young man swimming, Janusz. They strike up a friendship, with Janusz encouraging Ludwik to step deeper and deeper into the water until he is swimming, in a clear sexual metaphor. Some people, some events, make you lose your head. They’re like guillotines, cutting your life in two, the dead and the alive, the before and after.While Janusz becomes Ludwik’s great love, they find themselves on opposite shores politically, as Janusz has made his peace with the existing power structure and wants to work his way up within it. Ludwik knows that he can never be himself in such a system and wants to pull Janusz away from what he sees as moral peril, but he is still living in a corrupt system, and sometimes compromise is unavoidable. A central literary element is James Baldwin’s groundbreaking novel, Giovanni’s Room. Ludwik gives it to Janusz to read, and it forms part of the bond between them, as they both relate to Baldwin’s protagonist, his struggles with sexual identity, and his ability to survive in a hostile society, with the freedom to be who he is, or without it. It felt as if the words and thoughts of the narrator—despite their agony, despite their pain—healed some of my agony and my pain, simply by existing.Freedom of diverse sorts is considered. It is clear that in this very corrupt society, the in-group, the party faithful, the party operatives, have much more freedom to do as they please than the rest of society. But this requires that they themselves become corrupt, (presuming they did not start out that way) overlook clear cases of governmental thievery or incompetence, taking excess material benefits for themselves, while others endure rationing and shortages. Questions of freedom extend to what subjects are considered politically appropriate for graduate school theses. Even the ability to get a seat in graduate school can be curtailed by a less-gifted student with a more powerful political connection. Freedom of movement can be constrained by corrupt officials in charge of granting passports. Everywhere you turn there are barriers to freedom, the freedom to love who you want, or the absence of it, obviously being central. My life was a tiny narrow corridor with no doors leading off it, a tunnel so narrow it bruised my elbows, with only one way to go. That or the void I told myself. That or leave.Jedrowski captures this beautifully, contrasting the stark differences between the decadence of those considered more equal than others, their access to materials and services, their condescension, with the meager existence of working people. Some people have little or no access to needed medical help, for example, while for others it is only a phone call away. Swimming and water imagery flows through this very brief novel, deepening when the two young men go on a post-camp holiday to a sylvan place that features a secluded lake. Throwing a fish back into a river later in the book taps the imagery to a different purpose. The oppressive gray, wintry, city is contrasted with the gentle, beautiful, blue-sky countryside, where love has a much freer rein, untrammeled by the heavy weight of urbanization. More contrasts present as workers organize and protest, but military forces beat them down. Freedom may be worth fighting for, but it will exact a heavy cost. Jedrowski captures the passion of young love, the intensity of growing into adulthood with its moral challenges and demands for compromise, and the struggle of coming to grips with a society that is both daunting and crumbling. The undercurrent of fear and oppression, and the prospect of imminent civil war is palpable. It rained for days on end. The drops drummed onto the rooftops and hammered the streets. Thunder growled like the anger of our forefathers. It felt like the city was under attack, like the city and its streets might begin to give way, dissolve, its life flowing into the Wisla and out into the cold depths of the sea.There have been many great books, great romances, set in times of political turmoil. Doctor Zhivago, on a far grander scale, comes to mind. But, while Swimming in the Dark is a much smaller book both in size and ambition, it captures that same sense of the earth crumbling beneath your feet. Similarly, it contrasts those who stay with those who go, showing their conflicts and motivations. I was reminded of The Unbearable Lightness of Being as well, for its portrayal of Eastern European oppression. It also summoned to mind great coming of age novels set in tumultuous times, like A Separate Peace. Tomasz Jedrowski’s first novel is a triumph. A tale of forbidden love in a time of conflict, a story of human warmth in a chilly age, a narrative that is written with exquisite sensitivity and great beauty and power. It is tender, moving, sensual, and engaging, while offering readers a close-up look at a turbulent time in a perilous place. Swimming in the Dark is an instant classic. Don’t miss it. We swam, fearless and free and invisible in the brilliant dark. Review posted – April 24, 2020 Publication dates ----------April 28, 2020 - hardcover ----------April 13, 2021 - trade paperback =============================EXTRA STUFF I did not turn up any digital links for the author. If you are aware of any, please send them along. Interviews ----- Interview Magazine - The Author Tomasz Jedrowski Keeps Coming Back to Giovanni’s Room by Christopher Bollen Frankly, there is not much out there at present re interviews with the author. I expect by the time he produces a second book that situation will be improved. We do know that he is 34, or so, lives outside Paris, and was born in Germany to Polish parents. The novel was based on the world his parents lived in when they were young, and was inspired, at least in part, by the first man he met who was out, a friend of his parents, as he wondered what life had been like for him back then. Items of Interest -----James Baldwin - Giovanni’s Room PDF -----Czesław Miłosz - Nobel-Prize-winning Polish poet -----Wisława Szymborska - Nobel-Prize-winning Polish poet and essayist -----Ryszard Kapuściński - Polish journalist, photographer, poet, and author -----Solidarność - aka Solidarity - the Polish Labor union that played a central role in ending Communist rule -----Quo Vadis - an 1895 historical novel by Polish author Henryk Sienkiewicz Songs -----Donna Summer – I Feel Love ----- Donna Summer – Bad Girls -----Blondie - Heart of Glass -----Everly Brothers - All I Have To Do Is Dream ...more |
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Mar 30, 2020
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Apr 06, 2020
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Apr 06, 2020
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Hardcover
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0525562028
| 9780525562023
| 0525562028
| 4.04
| 322,850
| Jun 04, 2019
| Jun 04, 2019
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it was amazing
| I am thinking of beauty again, how some things are hunted because we have deemed them beautiful. If, relative to the history of our planet, an indi I am thinking of beauty again, how some things are hunted because we have deemed them beautiful. If, relative to the history of our planet, an individual life is so short, a blink of an eye, as they say, then to be gorgeous, even from the day you’re born to the day you die, is to be gorgeous only briefly…sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearing. To be gorgeous, you must first be seen, but to be seen allows you to be hunted.Take one beam of light. Direct it through a prism. It will separate into its component colors. Reading Ocean Vuong is a bit like this. He takes words, images, and concepts, beams them through his prismatic, gravitic artistry, and the result is a spreading rainbow, bending in several directions. It is a bit of a trip reading On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. Go ahead, take the Vuong acid. This is a trip worth taking. [image] Ocean Vuong - image from The Guardian - credit Adrian Pope On Earth… is not all straightforward story-telling, although there is plenty of that in here. It is a mix of elements. The parts. The form. Little Dog is writing an extended letter to his mother, Rose, telling her of his experiences, a letter she will not, cannot ever read. He had tried teaching her to read English, but she gave up in short order, claiming that she had gotten that far being able to see, so did not really need it. Uncomfortable, too, with the dis-order of a child teaching a parent. The story of helping at the nail salon where she worked, where the workers inhale culture as well as toxic chemicals. In the nail salon, sorry is a tool one used to pander until the word itself becomes currency. It no longer merely apologizes, but insists, reminds: I'm here, right here, beneath you. It is the lowering of oneself so that the client feels right, superior, and charitable. In the nail salon, one’s definition of sorry is deranged into a new work entirely, one that’s charged and reused as both power and defacement at once. Being sorry pays, being sorry even, or especially, when one has no fault, is worth every self-deprecating syllable the mouth allows. Because the mouth must eat.The History. Family. Little Dog tells of his grandmother, Lan, in Viet Nam, marrying a GI, bearing him a child, Little Dog’s mother. Being left behind when the USA fled. His history with his grandmother, their closeness, how she protected him as much as she could. When he was tasked with plucking the white hairs from her head, she would tell him stories. As I plucked, the blank walls around us did not so much fill with fantastical landscapes as open to them, the plaster disintegrating to reveal the past behind it. Scenes from the war, mythologies of manlike monkeys, of ancient ghost catchers from the hills of Da Lat who were paid in jugs of rice wine, who traveled through villages with packs of wild dogs and spells written on palm leaves to dispel evil spirits.The story of his mother, growing up in Viet Nam, ostracized for being too white, her PTSD as an adult, and how that manifested as physical abuse of her son. Sometimes you are erased before you are given the choice of stating who you are.The story of Little Dog’s contending with the dual challenges of being a yellow boy in a white place, (Hartford, Connecticut), in the poorer parts, and a gay one, to boot. Coming of age as a gay male teenager, first experiencing sex and a lasting relationship, until well, you’ll see. [image] Ocean Vuong aged two with his mother and aunt at Philippines refugee camp - image from 2017 Guardian interview The story of his relationship with his American grandfather, and a secret in that bond. He writes about Tiger Woods, offering some history of how he came by his name, and wonders why Woods is only very rarely referred to as half-Asian. There is much consideration of language. In an interview with PBS, Vuong talked about how in Vietnamese culture, farm workers would sing as they worked, merging the action of their bodies with the rhythms of the songs and poems. Other elements contribute to his perspective. Vuong talks about his struggles in school. Reading was particularly hard, and he suspects that dyslexia runs in his family, though he says now: “I think perhaps the disability helped me a bit, because I write very slowly and see words as objects. I’m always trying to look for words inside words. It’s so beautiful to me that the word laughter is inside slaughter.” - from The RumpusHe writes of the body as a form of language. I am writing you from inside a body that used to be yours. Which is to say, I am writing as a son. If we are lucky, the end of the sentence is where we might begin. If we are lucky, something is passed on, another alphabet written in the blood, sinew, and neuron…And It’s in these moments, next to you, that I envy words for doing what we can never do—how they can tell all of themselves simply by standing still, simply by being.The sadness of loss permeates. Little Dog has his own losses to grieve, his mother and grandmother far more. But there is recognition, also, that the trials of the past have allowed for some of the good things of the present. This is not a pity party. Gruesomeness, having to do with macaques, is very far from gorgeous, but is fleeting, and can be seen as an image of the darkest sort of colonialism. There is also LOL humor in the occasional mismatch of cultures. Vuong can start off a chapter writing about a table, for example, and turn that into a labyrinth, that winds, bends and turns, and somehow winds up back at the table. Very Somebody spoke and I went into a dream. This is one of the more quotable books you will read. A few: Freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and the prey.You get the idea. And plenty more where those came from. While this is a small book in size, it is neither a slight, nor an easy read. You do not have to be a poet, or a fan of poetry to appreciate the wonderfulness of this book, but it wouldn’t hurt. The stories Ocean Vuong tells are clear and very accessible, but the linguistic gymnastics can leave you needing to uncross your eyes, more than once. But gymnastics are stimulating too, and might loosen up some latent cranial muscles. We may or may not be gorgeous briefly, or at all, but this book is a work of surpassing beauty, and will remain so forever. Review first posted – December 13, 2019 Publication dates ==========June 4, 2019 - hardcover ==========June 1, 2021 - Trade paperback [image] [image] [image] [image] =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to the author’s personal, Tumblr and Instagram pages Vuong is an award-winning poet. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is his first novel. Interviews -----The Paris Review – June 5, 2019 - Survival as a Creative Force: An Interview with Ocean Vuong - by Spencer Quong -----The Guardian – June 9, 2019 - Ocean Vuong: ‘As a child I would ask: What’s napalm?’- by Emma Brockes -----The Creative Independent – May 16, 2017 - Ocean Vuong on being generous in your work -----LA Review of Books – Article is from June 2019, but the interview was done in 2017 - Failing Better: A Conversation with Ocean Vuong - by Viet Thanh Nguyen -----The Guardian – October 3, 2017 - War baby: the amazing story of Ocean Vuong, former refugee and prize-winning poet - by Claire Armistead Items of Interest -----Excerpt – The New Yorker published this piece from Vuong on May 13, 2017. It is essentially an excerpt from the book. A Letter to My Mother That She Will Never Read -----The Rumpus – a 2014 piece by Vuong - The Weight of Our Living: On Hope, Fire Escapes, and Visible Desperation -----The Guardian - April 2, 2022 - Ocean Vuong: ‘I was addicted to everything you could crush into a white powder’ by Lisa Allardice - on his upcoming book, but with relevant intel on the author independent to that ...more |
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Dec 03, 2019
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Dec 09, 2019
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Oct 13, 2019
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Hardcover
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0061284920
| 9780061284922
| 0061284920
| 3.86
| 9,253
| Mar 06, 2018
| Mar 06, 2018
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liked it
| Are you lost if you know where you are going—just not how to get there?Niru has a problem. Sure, his parents are well off. Sure, he will be going Are you lost if you know where you are going—just not how to get there?Niru has a problem. Sure, his parents are well off. Sure, he will be going to Harvard after finishing his senior year at an exclusive private school. Sure, he is a pretty good athlete, more than holding his own on his school’s track team. Sure, he has a great bff in Meredith. Life is good, right? Well, not entirely. When Meredith moves to increase the level of their relationship, Niru comes out. The core of the novel centers around Niru contending with the challenges of being gay. It does not help that his very conservative Nigerian immigrant family are appalled. His father even assaults him. Niru is trapped between two worlds, his modern American world, in which homosexuality is becoming increasingly mainstreamed, however terrifying it may be for him to accept his true inclinations, and the old-world values of his Nigerian parents. His father drags him back to Africa, intent on subjecting him to a form of conversion therapy, administered by a friend-of-the-family cleric. “If you grow up between two places the gap is a blessing and also an inner torment. You want so badly to be of a place but that’s not your lot. When people talk about Nigeria being a difficult place we all complain about it. Listening to the sound of generator, stuck in traffic, suffering inconveniences doesn’t make you feel good. If something happens to me will I get the medical help I need? Every Nigerian is acutely aware of that but other things make it wonderful to live here. You’re around your family. There’s extended family and a sense of community. You’re in a place where you see people hustling and pushing. That gives you energy. - from The Guardian interviewSome of the most warming, and heart-breaking scenes take place in Nigeria, as Niru can see both the dark and bright sides of his African heritage. Niru even makes at least some attempt to heed the conversion advice. He has considerable culturally-supported ambivalence, at times feeling unclean. [image] Uzodinma Iweala - image from The Guardian Another thread is the challenge of coping with police while black. We get a hint early when Niru is stopped for speeding (yes, he was) and recalls a tale his older brother told him of having been terrified for his life when stopped by the police. “I’ve always been interested in the way that people process trauma,” Iweala explains. “This one deals with, in vague terms, police brutality – how individuals and societies process the trauma around them. – from the Guardian interviewThe POV for the first three quarters of the novel is Niru’s. It then switches to his friend, Meredith. While it is not particularly unusual to have a shift in POV, I found it jarring here. An alternating perspective might have worked better. Also, I suspect that this was a residue from a prior structure for the book. A 2011 description of the project, from Iweala’s Radcliffe/Harvard bio, describes the book as a series of interlinked narratives set in Washington, DC—that explores the themes of choice, freedom, and what we must compromise to live in a secure society. The book follows six different characters as they interact with one another and the city in which they live.While Iweala does indeed look at how characters beyond the primary pair cope, or don’t, with Niru coming out and with the violent episode that takes place later, focus remains very much on Niru and Meredith. While there may have been other main POV characters intended on Iweala’s earlier vision for the book, they have been reduced to supporting players here. Invisibility is a significant theme throughout the book. For Niru, it is a desired state, so he does not have to cope with taking crap about being gay, from his parents or peers. This is reinforced by a class in which a teacher expresses frustration at his students’ indifference to Ralph Ellison’s classic novel, Invisible Man. Meredith makes herself invisible to Niru for a time. I had some gripes about the book. Did it really take Niru until he was a high school senior to realize he was gay? I expect folks with personal experience, and those who have read more than I on the subject would have a better idea, but it seems late to me. He is worried about his involuntary reaction to seeing naked boys in the locker room after he comes out to Meredith. But wouldn’t those reactions have been there before, offering a hint? Already noted above is my discomfort with how the POV shift was managed. It felt to me like Speak No Evil was what was left of a larger project that, for whatever reason, remains mostly on the cutting room floor. It did not address the police brutality element nearly well enough. And the depth and diversity of viewpoints that would have made this short book a considerably richer experience were missing, well not missing, but pared down so much as to reduce their impact. It also felt to me that the events leading up to the big event of the book were forced. As if the author had worked the scene backward from the ultimate event, then pondered what it would take for it to develop in the intended way. It did not feel organic. That said, there is some beautiful writing on display. Niru’s struggles through a difficult adjustment are gently and effectively portrayed. This is the man, remember, who wrote the magnificent Beasts of No Nation. Maybe it is a problem of expectation, that his first novel was such a triumph, and very tough to match on the second go round. Still, Speak No Evil is an interesting read that will certainly add to your appreciation of diverse immigrant experience, and the challenge of straddling two worlds, as an immigrant, a young coming-out gay man, and a young black contending with a hostile constabulary. There are some pieces of beautiful writing here, and a good bit of craft. You will like Niru and care about his journey. I only wish there had been more of it. Review first posted – 3/2/18 Publication date – 3/6/18 =============================EXTRA STUFF An excerpt from the book, in The Wall Street Journal Iweala’s Radcliffe/Harvard bio Oddly, a short piece Iweala wrote, also called Speak No Evil, from the Summer 2007 Paris Review – issue 181 – it bears no resemblance to the novel February 27, 2017 - Interview with Iweala from The Guardian My review of Beasts of No Nation ...more |
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Feb 10, 2018
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Feb 24, 2018
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Feb 24, 2018
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0062666681
| 9780062666680
| 0062666681
| 3.78
| 3,412
| Mar 20, 2018
| Mar 20, 2018
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it was amazing
| I was like a bird who stashed every feather it molted. I’d nested in old selves for too long, afraid I’d need them again.Andrea Morales came to I was like a bird who stashed every feather it molted. I’d nested in old selves for too long, afraid I’d need them again.Andrea Morales came to Portland, Oregon, to attend Reed College. Unlike the environment in her Nebraska home town, Portland offered a world in which it was entirely ok to be gay and out. In fact, she soon found herself part of a thriving lesbian sub-culture. But when Mom and Dad, heavily Catholic, learned that she had a girlfriend, parental funding for Reed was axed, and Andrea was urged to return home and pray away the gay. Didn’t happen. Check, please. [image] Chelsey Johnson - image taken from her site Maybe everything’s not exactly coming up roses for Andrea in Portland, but, now twenty four, she has made a life for herself there. Yeah, she just broke up with her girlfriend. Why does it always have to go like this, that the one who cheated or lied ends up fine, even a girl magnet, and the other, the one who did nothing wrong, is scrap? Yeah, she has work, at three part time jobs. But, she is a member in good-standing of the local Lesbian Mafia, having managed to replace the family (well, some of them) who rejected her, seeing her as a sinful aberration, with a community that embraces and celebrates her for who she truly is. Up to a point, anyway. For the first time I understood why queer people changed their names. It was about more than trying to be different or weird, though maybe it was a little bit that, to go by Tiger or Ace or Ponyboy or Dirtbag or whatever, my future girlfriend Flynn adding the F to her name. The name they gave you belongs to someone else, their invention of you; if you turn out not to be that person, you have to name yourself. But I stayed Andrea—I couldn’t let go entirely of the person I’d always been. The tyranny of family love is that you can’t help but love people who think God can’t stand the sight of you.One of the people with whom she is most comfortable is Ryan, the drummer for a local band, Cold Shoulder. They hang out, play Scrabble. He sends her charming retro postcards from wherever, when he is on tour with the band. They can talk about a wide range of subjects. There is real affection between them. There has even been a…gasp…kiss. He is clearly interested in continuing down that path, while she is reluctant. But she misses him when he is away. He is charming and interested and the no-strings element is appealing, as she is not interested in having a real relationship with a man. Friendship leads to something more, making for confusion and social awkwardness. She feels it necessary to keep their relationship from her gay friends. But, as will happen, even with protection, Andrea becomes pregnant, and her secret is out. Oopsy. What to do? Keep it or head to Planned Parenthood for a D&C? How will her family, natural and constructed, react to the news? How will the prospective father cope? Andrea has to deal not only with the biological and financial details of her pregnancy, but must contend with hostile forces in her new community, women who see any congress with a man as a betrayal. Stray City is a coming of age novel. While Andrea learned who she was, sexually, as a kid, in flashback, and arrived in Portland clear on her orientation, we see her grow from a young person into an adult, from a newbie into a vet. The form begins with a significant personal loss, (yep) requires a quest for answers, (uh huh) gaining experience in the world, (for sure) presentation and resolution of a conflict between the main character and the world, or in this case two worlds, (ya think?) her parental and chosen environments, growing in world and self-knowledge, (she does) overcoming challenges, (most def) and resolving into acceptance into that world (whichever world), or managing at least a modus vivendi. (Whew!) Helping others along in their struggles can also be a part, and Andrea does that as well One thing that I loved about this book was the combination of warmth and effervescence it exudes. Andrea is a lovable everywoman, relatable even to a straight male codger like me. While she is no blushing rose, she has an innocence about her that is very appealing. Trying to find love, trying to fit in, have friends, and be a part of a community. Another is the portrait that is painted of the lesbian scene in Portland at the time of the novel, 1999. Again (see straight male codger ref above), this is an environment with which I am totally unfamiliar. It is always fun to learn about new things, and Stray City offers a vivid image of a culture in a time and place. It not only takes on the sort of know-nothing homophobia one might expect in less sophisticated places and cultures, but makes it a point to note that even among the out community there are plenty who would don the robes of Torquemada to enforce their own exclusive set of rules. It seemed in our urgency to redefine ourselves against the norm, we’d formed a church of our own, as doctrinaire as any, and we too abhorred a heretic.Johnson includes in her book chapters of occasional lists. For example Rules of the Lesbian Mafia, The Lesbian Mafia Official Shitlist, Immigration Question Test, and others. I thought these a mixed lot, sometimes fun, but inconsistent. Not that it needed breaking up, but a series of back and forths between two characters in brief paper notes, messages on answering machines, postcards, e-mails and unsent letters, does alter the rhythm of the story, in an ok way, while providing important elements of character development. The author has incorporated elements of her personal life into Stray City. A remote residence for one character surely reflects a bit of Park Rapids, Minnesota, where she was raised. Time some young characters spend in Rock Camp is certainly based on Johnson’s time as a volunteer at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls, as is her familiarity with rock hardware. (Would you know the difference between a Telecaster and say, a Strat, or a Les Paul?) And including two ten-year-olds who compose and perform must have come from there as well. Andrea’s fondness for karaoke is well-informed by Johnson’s affection for the form. I expect that Edith Head, another stray, of the feline variety, is a make-a-wish version of Johnson’s late kitty, Seven. There is a persistent feeling of hopefulness, of good cheer that permeates the book. Chelsey Johnson clearly loves her characters, demonstrated maybe most clearly when she is noting their inner doubts and conflicts. This is not a laugh-out-loud book, but there is humor aplenty that will make you smile. We hang with Andrea as she adapts to her new life in Portland, struggle with her through her to-keep-or-not-to-keep decision, and root for her in another new life when she becomes a mother. This book is a joyous celebration of life lived to its fullest, with its doubts, pitfalls, discoveries, setbacks, joys, and challenges. It will leave you more knowledgeable about a culture that, odds are, is unfamiliar. It will give you a beautifully drawn character that you can easily care about, facing problems that are real to most of us, in one form or another, and, finally, it will leave you smiling. Stray City is a fabulous first from a talented young writer. It looks like Chelsey Johnson has found a home as a novelist. Review first posted – November 3, 2017 Publication date – March 20, 2018 =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to the author’s personal, Twitter and FB pages ...more |
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Sep 13, 2017
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Oct 16, 2017
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Oct 17, 2017
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Hardcover
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1451664125
| 9781451664126
| 1451664125
| 3.70
| 27,018
| May 08, 2012
| May 08, 2012
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really liked it
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There is a scene near the end of John Irving’s 2012 novel, In One Person, in which a character who is a writer is confronted: …I’ve read all your booksThere is a scene near the end of John Irving’s 2012 novel, In One Person, in which a character who is a writer is confronted: …I’ve read all your books and I know what you do—I mean, in your writing. You make all these sexual extremes seem normal—that is what you do. Like Gee, that girl, or whatever she is—or what she’s becoming. You create these characters who are so sexually ‘different,’ as you might call them—or ‘fucked up,’ which is what I would call them—and then you expect us to sympathize with them, or feel sorry for them, or something.And that is exactly what Irving does here. Irving maintains his fixation on sexuality in this one, and wrestling and New England prep schools, and May-December romance. So, if he is jogging for the umpteenth time down the same well-worn path, what is it that makes this one any different? The story is not one of a May-December entanglement, although that element is here. The book is about sexuality in a larger social, historical context. [image] John Irving - image from his FB photos William Abbot, in his late sixties, recalls his life, from his prep school days in the small town of First Sister, Vermont to his present, in the 21st century. Billy is bisexual and knows from an early age that he is attracted to both males and females. He struggles to find his place in the world, knowing that he differs from the usual in a significant way. Irving shows us his journey, his loves, triumphs, disappointments, what he discovers, what he seeks out, the discovery of self and of the world that is the core of any life journey worth telling. In the same way that Cabot Cove of Murder, She Wrote fame zoomed way above the statistical norm as a rather dodgy place in which to hold onto one's corporal existence, Little Sister, Vermont seems a statistically anomalous bastion of sexual diversity. William has a grandfather who cross dresses, genetic contributions from a gay relation, a cousin who is a lesbian, a best friend who is also bi, a classmate who walks on both sides of the street, another classmate who is gay, and a notable person in town who is transgender. Relying on that unimpeachable source, Wikipedia, we learn that as of April 2011, approximately 3.5% of American adults identify as lesbian, gay or bisexual, while 0.3% are transgender. Of course, the number who are in fact LGB or T is probably higher, as there remain plenty of closets filled with members of those groups not yet able to identify themselves as such. Even so, and considering that the period in question is mostly early 1960s, you might want to check under First Sister's slip to see if maybe she might really be First Brother. Maybe there’s something in the water there, washing down from grandpa’s lumber mill. (This must summon to mind Monty Python’s amazingly relevant Lumberjack Song) In fact, there is so much non-standard sexuality in First Sister, Vt, that one might expect the sport Irving focuses on to shift from his favorite, wrestling, to something like cross-country, or mixed doubles. William’s tale is primarily that of his mid-to-late adolescence, his emergence as a bisexual, and coping with the complications and personal growth that result. In particular he copes with the ongoing problem of having crushes on the “wrong people.” I felt that this was the strongest part of the book. Enough time is dedicated to these early years to give us the richest texture, the deepest appreciation. This is not to say that William’s years beyond are thin, well, ok maybe a bit thin as he squeezes too many years into too few pages, but if his story were a Hershey kiss, the prep school years would be the lower two thirds. For all that this is about William’s coming of age, he seemed pretty well formed by the time he appears as a young adolescent. He knew what he was, bisexual, and did not seem to suffer much real conflict about it. One might expect that he would feel two ways about it, but he didn’t, even though he grows into a more robust acceptance as he grows. One mechanism Irving used to bolster his characterizations was to give William a speech problem that was probably tongue in cheek. William had great difficulty pronouncing words that related to problem areas in his life. “Penis,” for example, comes out “penith,” with the plural presenting an acute challenge. Later, another character is shown to have the same malady. This felt forced to me, a bit too cute. Literature and theater permeate the story. The young William is led to the reading life by the town librarian, the alluring Miss Frost, and this opens the door for Irving to connect his characters to tales from great literature. There are two stage venues in First Sister, the school and the town both put on productions. This offers many opportunities for Irving to tell us about his characters by the roles they are assigned in the many plays, usually Shakespeare or Ibsen. Sadly, no musicals. One strength, for me, was the presentation of a host of believable supporting characters. A cross-dressing grandparent was a charming, and supportive soul. William’s bff, Elaine, worked well. There are transgender characters portrayed as pillars of strength, very effectively. Also there are heterosexual characters who glow as supportive, caring sorts, William’s stepfather, Elaine’s mother, who offers counseling at the school, and even a gruff-seeming wrestling coach. And a scan of the history of public attitudes about acceptance of orientation diversity adds heft. We see a variety of external pressures put on non-heterosexual people, but William does not really seem all that damaged by the prejudices as a teen, although he is victimized by baseless fears as an adult. Others, however are damaged. A good and supportive person loses a job as a result. Later, the AIDS epidemic takes many. Having to keep secrets does a fair bit of harm as well. There was one particular scene that affected me oddly, made me anxious. I am not sure what to make of it. The scene in which an adult William returns from his home in Manhattan to Vermont for a funeral was particularly discomfiting. I have no particular affection for my “home town” and the thought of being dragged back there, even for a good cause, gives me a fear of being somehow pinned there forever. I feel that I escaped once, and might not if trapped again. Maybe like a djinn consigned again to a lamp from which he had been liberated. I am not sure why I reacted that way to William returning home. Maybe a part of this was the bitter taste of watching the residents of First Sister, Vermont being picked off by the author one by one. It seemed something other than sad. It seemed almost dismissive. As if a list of characters had been posted in the left column, living, and were being systematically dragged into the right hand column, deceased. The passings certainly make sense in the context of the story, but something that I obviously cannot adequately describe bugged me about it. I am not at all citing this as a flaw, just something I wish I could explain, but cannot. I suppose I could go to the well one more time and say that I am ambivalent about In One Person, but I am not. What Irving did for the delicate subject of abortion in Cider House Rules, he does for sexual diversity here, humanizing a difficult subject, making us see the humanity of those too-often considered outsiders. Irving has written a moving story with believable characters, people we can care about and shows without telling. =============================EXTRA STUFF Links to Irving's personal and FB pages ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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Jun 10, 2012
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Jun 20, 2012
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Jun 10, 2012
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Hardcover
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0060817321
| 9780060817329
| 0060817321
| 3.96
| 14,504
| 2006
| Feb 07, 2006
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really liked it
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[image] The author in his Aquadisiac drag persona – image from Cooking Channel TV, really I Am Not Myself These Days is an uproarious first person roma [image] The author in his Aquadisiac drag persona – image from Cooking Channel TV, really I Am Not Myself These Days is an uproarious first person roman a clef about a drag queen in New York City. His/her wastrel life in the clubs, finding love with a gorgeous, rich, kind male escort, having adventures both good and bad and doing it all with much humor and feeling. There is enough kink here for a room full of afros but the focus is on the humanity beneath the outrageous. Who would think that you could care about a guy who wears fishbowls with live fish swimming around in them for breasts? I loved his relationship with a female co-worker, loving bitchy. A river-funeral at the end was quite poignant. All that glitters can grow old, but this moving, engaging book was absolutely fabulous. The author and his husband bought a farm in upstate NY, and are running a booming business from there. Kilmer-Purcell's Twitter and FB pages ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Dec 2005
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Nov 02, 2008
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Paperback
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![Loading trans](https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/loading-trans-ced157046184c3bc7c180ffbfc6825a4.gif)
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