There is no synopsis that does Shirley Estar goes to Heaven justice. It just isn't about the 'what' but the 'how'. In my view the epitome of lSynopsis
There is no synopsis that does Shirley Estar goes to Heaven justice. It just isn't about the 'what' but the 'how'. In my view the epitome of literature is like this, and my theory is that if it were not, why do we read books and not summaries?
Style
There is something joyous in how Winston constructs his sentences. His style seems entirely unconcerned by good sense and propriety, the words are free to describe the world, playing with the many voices that tell a story, sometimes a character's, sometimes your hear the author speaking directly to you, ramblingly charmingly incoherent and yet making crystalline sense.
18 minutes before Lumus Abrigador's cranium was liquefied by nanites, I was rapidly inhaling the first 150 pages of this book on a cozy Sunday in a local café around the corner, staying until close and then some because nothing could tear me from the riveting narrative.
Critique [moderate spoilers]
Any critique I make here is for purpose of discussion. To be clear, I consider this book incredible, and there is a good chance it ends up being the best book I read all year (and I've been finishing up Nobel Prize literature). I hope people find my critique constructive.
- Neurodivergence
Subnormality - Winston's Webcomic - goes by the byname "Comix with too many words". There, as here, Winston tackles questions of neurodivergent existence with deep grace and a gentle helpfulness that hopefully gives people a sense of self-understanding. Long-time readers may consider themselves lucky to have found his comics early on, and I highly reccomend one should read them, especially from #50 onwards. I certainly do. Right, back to the topic. The comics are very long, which is something I love as it allows them to develop nuance and depth that would be harder to reach in a shorter format. Meandering endlessly is a natural form of human communication. Something I wonder about is whether the length of the delivery makes the comic inaccessible for the very people who would perhaps find the encouraging message of "being subnormal is completely ok" most helpful. But maybe comics are the right format for this, and Sci-Fi novels also work.
- Saccharine perfection of representation
Jeremy Lund's character is interesting to look at in light of the novel's history with the comic. In the comic, Jeremy's character is subjected to a crude, transphobic joke, something Winston profusely apologises for when you click the modern link for the story. I have a lot of respect for learning from mistakes, and I think it's cool Winston left the comic intact, albeit the novel is a massive improvement in many ways on an already quite good story. It also shows Winston's growth as a person inasmuch he treats Jeremy and her transition with deftness and respect.
I am left to wonder if it is too perfect - and that we have overshot the goal. In making Jeremy an incredibly sweet, likeable person, (inside angel outside devil or somesuch), and giving her essentially no faults, she somewhat ends up substanceless, a foil to the protagonist, a plot device, but with little agency of her own (though she is doing cool stuff tbf).
I have multiple caveats to this idea - for once that trans representation in media is likely often vilifying, and that having a positive representation is thus probably a great thing to have. Narratively as well it would make sense for Shirley to idolize Jeremy, and thereby gloss over any character faults that the real Jeremy Lund would have if we were to see the novel from her perspective. But while I really enjoyed her discussion on God, it seems...ridiculously positive. Hm. A bit too much sugar in my cocoa, I prefer it without.
The Ending [Major Spoilers]
Some people were distraught by the ending, but me, well, I've read my Dostoevsky. To me the ending reminded me of that of Notes from Underground, where the protagonist makes an idiosyncratic, absolutely irrational choice that renders them, ultimately, human. That is, the decision to choose unhapiness. Depression is a motherfucker, and it doesn't let us enjoy good things, let alone conceive of ourselves as deserving of good things happening to us.
Still, even if my own reaction was more across the line of "yep, that checks out" (and I'd read the comic, of course), it still left an impression. I felt a strong urge to bow down in public, such was my respect for this masterwork. I had a strong urge to re-read it immediately, but...that will have to wait. Someday, I'll be back to investigate Winston's artistic portrayal of the idea that "You can only perceive a person at a given point in time across their entire lifespan".
Really quite good given it's age. A bit of blood-in-the-veins-chilling high Gothic lit to enjoy in the darklight evening. Shame about the ending, but Really quite good given it's age. A bit of blood-in-the-veins-chilling high Gothic lit to enjoy in the darklight evening. Shame about the ending, but what is one to do, what is one to do.......more
The word 'flawless' inescapably echoes in my mind when I try to describe how I feel about this book. There is not a single poorly written passage in tThe word 'flawless' inescapably echoes in my mind when I try to describe how I feel about this book. There is not a single poorly written passage in this 300-page novel. And there are many exceptional ones describing the small beauties of life, of finding meaning in it, of loneliness and companionship. The emotions it reaps, whether tears or joy, are earnt and earnest.
It is too early to say, but I believe this might be the best book of the decade....more
There's something irascible and violent about this book, as through one's nerves were being ground on sandpaper, and yet you can't look away, you can'There's something irascible and violent about this book, as through one's nerves were being ground on sandpaper, and yet you can't look away, you can't stop reading, no, you must simply know how it continues. That's how good of a writer Baldwin is.
Several passages of this book I'll never forget, having found a part of myself in them I hadn't articulated before, from the brutality of Rufus' conquest on the towertop, his conflicted sexuality coming to clash with racial politics, Cass' sermon on forgiveness, and the importance of forgiving yourself, Ida's raw talent, as yet not producing the desired effect of mourning at hand of insufficient practice, yet unmistakably there.
I picked up this book for my own, very particular reasons, but it proved to be so much more than that. I believe at some point it also merits a contrasting with Mishima's 'Confessions of a Mask' as illuminating similar social motifs at similar times in entirely different place. But it certainly stands on its own, and if New York life is anything as it is described here, then may the Gods have mercy on those unhappy denizens of a cursed city....more
Who knew Chinese New York Social Work Nightclub Carmilla was the comic I never knew I needed?
Absolutely wonderful.
Stantout to me is the art style, SooWho knew Chinese New York Social Work Nightclub Carmilla was the comic I never knew I needed?
Absolutely wonderful.
Stantout to me is the art style, Soo really has mastered the art of light and dark blends of color creating violent swirls for this fantastical story, re-told in new paint.
If I had to critique something, I'd point out that the often expositionary story-telling technique would have benefitted from showing backstory through action and event rather than simple recounting - at times it feels a bit bizzarre why the storyteller remembers certain historical happenings out of the blue. Similarly, the pacing is a bit off at times, certain events like a certain character death could've easily used another panel or two to really sink in. Overall the script feels a bit rushed, and may have benefitted from another edit, but the worldbuilding is quite grandiose, the characters are interesting and well-developed, so the shortcomings do not detract too much. It does leave to ponder if the medium of a one-release comic is at fault.
On the note of the meta-story awareness, I think ultimately this came a bit short, but made for a funny moment where Carmilla is reading Carmilla out loud and quoting herself in satirical fashion.
About the best pulp there is. It remains pulp at the end of the day, but it's good.About the best pulp there is. It remains pulp at the end of the day, but it's good....more
A heartwrenching tale of bureaucratic brutality, meaningless persecution and the consequences thereof, cast against the backdrop of the Siege on St. PA heartwrenching tale of bureaucratic brutality, meaningless persecution and the consequences thereof, cast against the backdrop of the Siege on St. Petersburg '43.
To this day I had not reckoned with how lucky my coutry was to slip past the Iron Curtain post WW-2. I cried at several points, and yet there is something profoundly human about the tale of loss, something to remember about human tenacity.
The old woman thinks of all the people 'for whom' she lived on.
This is engrossing. As the literary root of my username diluted twice through Gaiman's 'Three Septembers and a January' from his Sandman comics and FaThis is engrossing. As the literary root of my username diluted twice through Gaiman's 'Three Septembers and a January' from his Sandman comics and Fallen London's 'Calendar Council', whose anarchist leaning desire to destroy the tyranny of the suns, I really had to read it sometime.
It feels like a British Dostoevsky novel, in topic not dissimilar to 'Devils' in trying to expose 19th century nihilism and anarchism as distinctly evil forces, yet treating them with such respect as to seek to fully explore them as ideas from within. But Chesterton is not Dostoevsky, and as such the real plot, once it gets moving, feels more like reading Bulgakov - it is magical, mystical, full of bizass and fanfare before the protagonist finally finds himself walking the streets of London once more.
Reading this book was incredible entertaining - yet the ending is somewhat of a...deflated baloon, perhaps Chesterton didn't think of a better ending, more likely he wanted to disspell anarchism after giving it such a mystical anacrusis.
Well played, Gilbert. I'll see you in the dream-realm....more
I began reading this book a little over a year ago. Having finished it, I am of many minds about it.
The book is verbose and meandering, and it is apt I began reading this book a little over a year ago. Having finished it, I am of many minds about it.
The book is verbose and meandering, and it is apt to have the narrator wander in the dreams of another at the very outset of the novel. It is a deeply metatextual work, that is to say, it plays with its inspirations, is self-aware of its flaws and shortcomings, and reflects on the nature of authorship and books on many dimensions.
I began to read The Black Book because I became interested in the question of identity, and found, through works like Disco Elysium (a narrative game which takes place at the intersection of a 20th century transference of the Baltic Nations, a fascinating exploration of identity and ideology) and Yukio Mishima’s Confessions of a Mask (a novel about a young Japanese man coming to terms with his homosexuality amid a WW2 Japan) that identity often arises out of friction - in the border states, where cultures mix and muddle into one another. It was in this vein that I was interested in Orhan’s works as an exploration of Turkish feelings of lostness between Westernisation and traditional Turkish identity.
And the book most definitely deals with identity. The narrating protagonist, Galip, goes on a journey to find his disappeared wife, Rüya, and thus dives into a multitude of states of being ‘other’ in hopes of gaining new perspective that will aid in his search. Yet, even as I wrote the above - my first instinct was to call Galip ‘Celal’, that is, his columnist uncle whose writings make up a good part of the novel, and who is the prime suspect for having (consensusally) exfiltrated Rüya from her boring life as Galip’s stay-at-home wife. Galip is thus caught in a maelstrom of identity, always flipping from one person to the next, at once pretending to be Celal, in pretense, forgetting, and then returning, as one puts on clothes and takes them off again.
But -
I am dissatisfied.
Perhaps it is by design that the reader, upon finishing the story, feels dejected, deflated, and a little hopeless. It is, after all, a sunken story for a fallen empire. The quasi-real world events taking place tell of a rise in repression, a decrease in liberty, modernisation yes, enlightenment, not so. But despondent or no, Orhan did not finish his story satisfactorily in my view - and he would be the first to agree, stating so himself in an author’s interjection right before the narrative is resolved. He was in over his head, the plot too ambitious, the question too searing of an enigma for him to resolve satisfactorily, and I suppose, I suppose…I am glad he had the ambition. I trust he realised his grander vision in the books that followed The Black one.
Because as it stands, The Black Book is a masterpiece that fell flat at hand of an author’s inability to materialise an ending, as if waking up from a dream only to be unable to retrace one’s steps and return to end it.
There are passages that made me cry. There are passages that made me write. Both of these are testaments to the greatness of the book. But I cannot recommend The Black Book wholeheartedly. It is longer than it has to be. Many of the best passages happen before the first half. Many of the good later passages could have been poems instead of chapters.
Well, Orhan. It won’t be the last. I am glad you wrote this, disappointing as it were....more
The book seemed appropriate to read given recent happenings in America, and since I had bounced off the television show - perhaps the slow pacing, perThe book seemed appropriate to read given recent happenings in America, and since I had bounced off the television show - perhaps the slow pacing, perhaps Elizabeth Moss spooking me too much after I saw her in 'Us' - I thought I'd try again with a medium I am more receptive to.
In the vein of dystopian literature, The Handmaid's Tale continues a lineage that traces back to at least Dostoevsky's 'Grand Inquisitor', then 'We' by Zamyatin, and the infamous '1984'. (I've not read 'Brave New World', but probably that one too). These novel share an overarching state of control suffusing all aspects of everyday life, a dark future (past, or present) in which individual agency has largely been lost, and power pools at the top, both explicitly, but largely through means of Foucaultian self-censorship through perverse forms of education.
What is only mentioned briefly in The Grand Inquistor and 1984 is made a central topic in The Handmaiden's Tale: The use and control of human sexuality by the totalitarian system to obtain power and legitimacy.
"They will have no secrets from us. It will rest with us to permit them to live with their wives and concubines, or to forbid them, to have children or remain childless, either way depending on the degree of their obedience to us; and they will submit most joyfully to us the most agonizing secrets of their souls—all, all will they lay down at our feet, and we will authorize and remit them all in Thy name, and they will believe us and accept our mediation with rapture, as it will deliver them from their greatest anxiety and torture—that of having to decide freely for themselves." (The Brothers Karamazov)
In 1984, the party takes advantage of the way sexual dis-satisfaction creates hysteria, converting it into war fervor and leader worship - similar to the passage above. Yet as Sunstein (1) points out, Orwell has merely identified a mechanism, not a clear linear relationship, and that the real association that can be drawn among totalitarian regimes in world history is between political repression and the repression of women. "(...) Orwell is, unfortunately, quiet on that score." The real literature to check out on this topic may be Beauvoir's 'The Second Sex'.
Zamyatin's We bakes sexuality-control dichotomy into its story: I-330's characterisation as rebellious femme fatale makes the combination of sexual and political rebellion inevitable. Yet in both instances the female characters are closer to ideas, male fantasies of sexually charged rebellion, than real multi-dimensional characters.
As such, 'The Handmaid's Tale' is innovative within the genre, being written by a woman, with a female protagonist, and able to shine a light on aspects of sexual repression, inequality and injustice against women in a way the former works were not.
However, akin to them, the work is simultaneously very blunt in it's message, and yet utterly aqueous in terms of political interpretation. Beyond the superificial 'Totalitarianism is bad, Liberties must be safeguarded, some degree of individualism is necessary to human existence', who or what is being critiqued by the book is left for the reader to decide.
One could read it as a critique of Islamic regimes, what with the sudden regression of women's rights, being let go from their jobs, but also rendered unable to leave the country, all economic resources redistributed to their closest male spouse/relative, the need to hide their hair, the ban on cosmetics - all these things having occured in the past, perfectly possible to reoccur, in our country too.
On the flipside, much of the book's antagonism is entangled with Christian fundamentalism, and it is deeply situated within the North American context of the United States, or whatever became of them after a slew of environmental mishaps (the rapid decrease in Birth Rate, again, being a possible reality for us (2)). Islam actually ends up blamed by the Christian fundamentalists for some of the fallout, leading me to believe that it is not the only target of the book.
In the end, I am left to wonder how many of the parallels in the book decry the current status of women in society today. The recent Roe v. Wade overturn does demonstrate the precariousness of our priviledges and the ease at which we can backslide into the past, or dark future. And one could suppose that is the power of a dystopian novel: to incite fear, but fear based on realistic worries, and to make us ponder the power and importance of our institutions, so often taken for granted.
If the actual book has themes and topics that I missed - I apologise, I only read the comic. And doubly so for getting to the actual work so late, most of the discussion being absorbed by it's predecessors.
1: ‘Sexual Freedom and Political Freedom’ in A. Gleason et al., editors, On Nineteen Eighty-Four: Orwell and our Future (Princeton University Press, 2005) pp. 233-241
2: Swan, Shanna H., and Stacey Colino. Count down: How our modern world is threatening sperm counts, altering male and female reproductive development, and imperiling the future of the human race. Simon and Schuster, 2022....more
Johny Pitts' Afropean is a journey in search of the African reality in Europe, seeing how cultures interact, exist in parallel, and on occasion, blendJohny Pitts' Afropean is a journey in search of the African reality in Europe, seeing how cultures interact, exist in parallel, and on occasion, blend into something more than the sum of their parts.
The book has made me want to travel, to France, to Belgium, to Germany, to Portugal. And I've been to Paris many times, but I've never seen the Paris Pitts has seen. I've never tried to see things the way locals do, the way socially disenfranchised locals do.
In his worst passages Pitts recites unquestioned grand narratives around social inequality that I agree with, yet find too superficial to be useful, insightful or worth reading. But fortunately these are infrequent, and the real, lived, local experiences of Pitts, his honesty, verve, charm and acuity, make for a very impressive book full of fascinating lessons, including:
- Pushkin's mixed racial heritage - Ethiopia's ability to fend off colonial powers for centuries, only to inwardly collapse at the hand of a detached ruler - The whitewashing of the liberation of Paris, agreed upon by Ally commanders - The French continuation of Wu-Tang: IAM, from Marseille. I have been enjoying their 'L'École du micro d'argent'...more
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