Book Slog

I haven't finished a book since February 21! What's the problem? I'm having a bit of difficulty reading at home. My surroundings distract me to no end.

I seem to have been infected with a self-improvement virus. After months of slovenliness and chaos, my one-room apartment looks great now-- even the closets are clean and organized. Usually order is calming, but now if I see something slightly out of order like a smudge on a mirror or a crumb on the floor, I feel compelled to hop up and grab the Swiffer or a paper towel and window cleaner. Plays hell with reading.

In addition, I seem to be off on a spate of extreme TV watching. It's not particularly good television, either, but it feels so nice just to sit back and receive the few English programs available. They've been re-broadcast so many times I can say the dialogue by heart and I spend time hunting for familiar words in the Korean subtitles. Again, plays hell with reading, although this wasn't the case in the past. Before, I found the hum of English voices on TV an agreeable backdrop for reading.

I'm in the middle of 3 different books: Don't Look Back a biography of Satchel Paige, The Way West, one of my Pulitzer fiction winners and Wicked, the latest BOOKLEAVES selection. I'm farthest along in Wicked because -- you've probably guessed -- I went on a long subway ride yesterday. The book I finished on February 21 was finished during a train ride to Busan.

This stinks like an outdoor book stall inconveniently located next to a fish market. I want to read at home again.

Holden Caulfield and Esther Greenwood

When I re-read The Catcher In The Rye a couple of weeks ago in preparation for this discussion, I saw things I hadn't seen before. Holden keeps making remarks that foreshadow J.D. Salinger's withdrawal from the world for the last half of his life. In one instance, Holden is watching a piano player in a bar and he thinks about how the guy is so good and he knows he's good so he's become phony. Holden vows that if he could play like that, he'd "play piano in the closet."

Another thing that struck me was how The Bell Jar and The Catcher In The Rye are so much alike. Of course Sylvia Plath had it planned that way. Like so many other college students, she read Catcher back when it was published in 1951 and completely related to Holden's angst. Like so many readers across several generations, she was a huge fan of the novel. Years before she finally wrote The Bell Jar, she noted in one of her journals that she wanted her heroine to have a cynical, slangy voice like Holden's. The first 100 pages of The Bell Jar are a brilliant homage to Salinger and Catcher In The Rye.


Critics have compared Esther to another Salinger heroine, Franny, but I disagree. Esther is Holden minus the red deer hunting cap with flaps and traipsing around New York City in "size 7 black patent leather pumps with a matching belt and handbag from Bloomingdale's."


I made notes on the similarities and differences between Holden and Esther. The differences seem to mirror each other, or act like a negative vs. the finished photograph.

• Although Holden is a high school junior and Esther is a junior in college, both are teenagers. He is 16, and she is 19, soon to turn 20. Both are quite gauche, going around New York City and getting into awkward situations.

• How did they get there? Holden fled to NYC to escape Pencey Prep after he was expelled, his latest expulsion from a long string of prep schools and is hiding from his parents until Christmas break begins. Esther is in NYC because she won a summer internship with a women's magazine called Ladies' Day. (Plath did a summer internship with Mademoiselle during the same summer mentioned in the novel, that "queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs.")

• Esther has been a straight-A student all of her life and Holden has flunked everything but English, but both of them receive well-meaning but humiliating lectures from would-be mentors about how they need a change of attitude. Esther's is from her editor at Ladies' Day, Jay Cee and Holden's is from Mr. Spencer, the history teacher at Pencey Prep. Both seem to tune out their respective lectures. Both muse about the unattractiveness of their tormentors. Holden talks about how Mr. Spencer's chest (he is home in pajamas, recovering from the grippe) "bumpy chest...wasn't such a beautiful view" and Esther tries to picture "plug-ugly" Jay Cee "out of her business suit and in bed with her fat husband."

• Both are surrounded by "phonies." This is Holden's favorite word. Esther never uses the word, but she is disdainful about people who "live double lives." Holden's girlfriend, Sally Hayes is a pretentious social climber and name-dropper and Esther's boyfriend, Buddy Willard (seen in flashbacks during the New York section of the novel) is an insufferable, pompous, humorless medical student.

• Esther and Holden are both virgins, and obsessed with the idea of sex. Holden gets angry when he thinks that his roommate, Stradlater might have had sex in his car with an old friend of his, Jane Gallagher. He provokes Stradlater into a fight when Stradlater won't tell. Esther, who has divided the world into "people who are pure and people who aren't" becomes furious when she finds out that Buddy slept with a waitress the previous summer while he was seeing Esther and "pretending to be so pure."

• Both have identical reactions when they are in the middle of a sexual situation. Holden (who has just been talked into hiring a 5-dollar hotel hooker): "I know you're supposed to feel pretty sexy when somebody gets up and pulls their dress over their head, but I didn't. Sexy was about the last thing I was feeling. I felt much more depressed than sexy." Esther (when Buddy pulls down his pants and shows her his genitals): "The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed."

• Both have negative experiences relating to sex. Holden is beaten up by his would-be hooker's pimp, Maurice and Esther is nearly raped by a "woman-hater" named Marco.

• Death figures prominently into both Esther's and Holden's lives. Esther's father died when she was nine "the last time I was really happy" and Holden's beloved younger brother Allie died two years before the events in Catcher. Both novels seem to indicate that Esther and Holden are resentful that these deaths have been swept under the rug and that all of that dysfunction has led to them becoming unstrung.

• Holden and Esther both reluctantly go and see putrid movies. Both describe these movies fully with gleeful loathing. Esther trumps Holden's movie experience by succumbing to food poisoning before the end of the picture. She wonders caustically (in a way that would have made Holden proud) if she's really sick or if it's the awful movie that is making her feel sick.

• Both characters are fond of giving false names. Holden tells Mrs. Morrow he's Rudolf Schmidt (the name of the janitor at Pencey Prep) and Esther tells a couple of different guys that she's Elly Higginbottom from Chicago. Esther also has a plan to send Jay Cee a short story under a pseudonym.

• Holden and Esther both break down and cry uncontrollably while they're in New York City. Holden cries when his little sister Phoebe (and the only character he seems to care for) gives him her Christmas money. Esther cries while she's sitting for a photo shoot at Ladies' Day magazine.

• Each character has a habit of making spontaneous and slightly absurd plans for the future. Holden famously wants to be "the catcher in the rye" and keep children from falling from "a crazy cliff", but he also proposed to Sally Hayes that they run off, get married and live and work in the country. "Plan after plan leap[s] through [Esther's] head like a family of scatty rabbits." She decides in rapid succession to write a novel, learn shorthand, apprentice herself to a pottery maker and work in Germany as a waitress until she's bilingual. She also fantasizes about becoming Elly Higginbottom, moving to Chicago and marrying a mechanic.

• Both of their stories are told from the vantage point of the future. Holden's experiences are fairly recent "I'll just tell about this madman stuff that happened to me last Christmas..." but several years have passed since the summer Esther "...didn't know what [she] was doing in New York." The chief clue is that she has taken one of her free gifts from that summer, a sunglasses case and "cut the plastic starfish off...for the baby to play with."

• Odd clothing. Holden buys a red deer hunting cap on the subway and becomes quite attached to it. Esther throws her trip wardrobe from the roof of her hotel and forgets to save any for her journey home. She trades her bathrobe to Betsy for a dirndl dress that she subsequently wears without washing for several weeks.

• Both characters end up in mental institutions soon after their New York sojourns. Holden, who is usually known for speaking plainly is oddly vague about this, saying that he got "run-down" and "nearly got TB" but briefly mentions talking to a psychoanalyst near the end of the novel. Esther's breakdown is much more detailed and horrifying and comprises the second half of the novel.

Holden and Esther are also similar in that they helped to usher in significant eras. Catcher was published right before the cult of teenagerhood took off. The Bell Jar was published under a pseudonym in 1963, the same year as Betty Freidan published The Feminine Mystique. The Bell Jar became available to American readers in 1971 and women who were having their consciousnesses raised by the women's movement responded strongly to the disgust and anger Esther feels about how women are held to a different standard than men.
I wish I could compare authors as well. Except for their published canon being rather on the smallish side, there's hardly any similarities at all. J.D. Salinger died in late January, a couple of weeks past his 91st birthday. He was bitter and contemptuous of his overwhelming fame. Sadly, Sylvia Plath only lived a third of that lifespan, committing suicide 47 years ago at the age of 30. She yearned for the fame and fortune that Salinger repudiated and achieved it (as well as instant legendary, iconic status) posthumously in 1965 with the publication of her second book of poems, Ariel. 1965 was also the year that Salinger published his last short story and began life as a full-blown recluse.

That Olympic Feeling: The Canadian Reading Challenge

Although I've still got a long trek (snowshoes, where are my snowshoes?) I feel as if I'm finally making some progress with the Canadian Reading Challenge.

1. The Paper Bag Princess (children's picture book) - Robert Munsch. I'll love him forever.

2. The Cellist of Sarajevo (novel) - Steven Galloway. I was underwhelmed when I first read this novel and irritated that the title character was more of a symbol than an actual person that readers got to go, but now that the book has settled in my mind, it seems to keep improving and I found myself recommending it the other day. It's funny how some books will sneak up on you like that.

3. Divisadero (novel) - Michael Ondaatje. When Ondaatje abandoned the Anna/Claire/Coop story that begins this novel and started doing intricate and interlocking loops back into the past, I went along but not willingly. I love looking for meanings and patterns and repetition as much as the next reader, but I also want a fairly linear storyline and to see the characters I initially invested in through to some sort of conclusion, whether it be satisfying or unsatisfying. An irritating reading experience; I was left feeling like the most unsophisticated of readers.

4. A Boy Of Good Breeding (novel) - Miriam Toews. Toews relies too much on quirky charm but I'm still eager to read the whole of her canon.

5. Frozen In Time: The Fate of the Franklin Expedition (nonfiction) - Owen Beattie & John Geiger. This is far and away my favorite of the Canadian reads so far. In 1845, Sir John Franklin set out to find the Northwest Passage with his two ships the Erebus and the Terror and a crew of 129 men. (With ship names like that, wouldn't you have been tempted to turn back?)

When no one had heard or seen them by 1848, search parties were organized. The ships were never found, but there was evidence the whole party had perished. No one could understand why, since they'd shipped out with plenty of provisions, including thousands of pounds of that newfangled invention, canned food. (So new that the can opener hadn't yet been invented.) For years the question persisted: Was it blundering incompetence or something else?

Fast-forward to the early 1980s. Forensic anthropologist Owen Beattie took a team back to the Arctic and dug up and examined 3 of the victims, who were perfectly preserved in ice. Mystery solved -- cutting-edge technology was their undoing. The cans had been improperly sealed by the manufacturer and Franklin and his men died from lead poisoning.

First published in the late 1980s, Frozen In Time was updated and re-released in 2004 with a lively introduction by Margaret Atwood (I'd recommend saving it till the end of the book). The book is illustrated with photos and maps. Some of the graphic descriptions of the fate of Franklin's men aren't for those with a weak stomach. Incredibly engrossing; a perfect winter read.

January: Reading & Reviewing Part 3

I feel like one of those marathon runners who finally stumble across the finish line a week after all the other participants have gone home. Maybe I should make a rule for myself that I can't go on to the next book until I've written a review for the one just finished.

11. An Angel At My Table (autobiography) - Janet Frame. Wow, Janet. Even her quirks had quirks. I'd had this on my TBR for over a year, but had put off reading it because it was the second of a three-volume autobiography. I'd still like to read the other two, but this one is where the real meat, the drama of her life is. I'll write more in a separate blog post since I did it as part of the book/movie challenge.

12. The Rough Guide To Classic Novels (nonfiction) - Simon Mason. As far as book-buying is concerned, this is the best-spent money for the month of January, because I'll be referring to this brilliant little gem over and over again for years. Mason's book could have been a real snoozer, but he shakes it up with recommendations from all over our big blue marble. He also runs the gamut from old to new. In addition, there's a thumbnail suggestion about "where to go next". Mason helpfully mentions the best edition or translation and just when you thought that it couldn't get any better, he gives you a movie tie-in analysis. This is my introduction to the Rough Guide series; I'm truly impressed.

13. Caucasia (novel) - Danzy Senna. This novel is also known as From Caucasia, With Love. It's the mid-1970s. Birdie and her sister Cole are the offspring of a biracial marriage. Cole resembles their African-American father while Birdie has her mother's light skin and Caucasian features. When the parents split, Birdie goes with her mother and Cole goes with her father. Birdie and her mother go underground, living on the run for a couple of years since Birdie's mother may face jail time for questionable activities. Senna keeps that element of the subplot deliberately murky.

Senna's style is compulsively readable, but I was distracted by the bad editing of the edition I read. Stupid, minor stuff that could have easily been cleaned up like referring to actress Hattie McDaniel as "Hattie McDowell", anthropologist Margaret Mead's last name was spelled "Meade", awkward grammar and there's a mild anachronism with the TV show What's Happening. I'm sure that this nitpicky stuff was cleared up in future editions. Another thing that annoyed me was that Birdie seems to be the only one in her family -- immediate and extended -- who has any brains or drive. (It must be a sign of age that I'm growing to despise The Tale Of The Plucky Child. Call me Curmudgeon.)

After finishing this novel for Talya's book group, I thought I was done with Danzy Senna, but I was wrong. As I told Talya in a recent message, I discovered a memoir Senna published last year called Where Did You Sleep Last Night? in which she struggles to untangle the skeins of her father's confusing history. I can't help but wondering how Danzy's story compares with Birdie's.

January: Reading & Reviewing Part 2

I had such a good reading month, but I've got so much (too much?) to say about these books and so many to review. Even after I natter on and on about a book, I'm still not sure if I've conveyed the essence and struck the spark that will make everyone want to go out and read it immediately.
Oh well, here we go again:

7. and 8. Maus I: My Father Bleeds History and Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began (graphic novels) - Art Spiegelman. This complex and subtle Pulitzer prizewinning graphic novel is a must-read. More than once, to tease out all the levels of meaning. I didn't know what to make of it at first. It seemed strange to see the characters drawn as animals. Then, later on when Art's old comic from the 1970s is found, it seems even stranger to see Art and his family represented as human. It was almost like they were too vulnerable, so it was a relief and felt normal when they reverted to mice again.

I also had reservations about the juxtaposition of the WWII storyline and the subplot chronicling Art's frustration, anger and worry over his father's increasing frailty, his realincomprehensible behaviors (like destroying Art's mother's diary) and his stubborn habits. It works though -- Young Vladek Spiegelman is brave, cool and resourceful. He's a survivor. When Art was irritated with Vladek, I understood that, but I felt much more compassion for Vladek, seeing him as a shadow of his former self. I was irritated with Art because it felt as if he couldn't understand what Vladek went through, even though Art is getting the story from his father and Art is the one who is presenting the fear and horror of the Holocaust to the readers. Quite an interesting feat with this arrangement of layers. Almost sleight-of-hand. Art Spiegelman really digs in and is unafraid to show himself as uncomprehending and angry, and all of that makes Maus that much more powerful.

9. A Boy Of Good Breeding (novel) - Miriam Toews. No one can accuse Miriam Toews' novels of being plot-driven. Her method is to create lovable, quirky characters, give them odd names (like Knute or Summer Feelin') then mine those quirks and oddnesses for all they're worth.

On one hand, I actually felt as if life in Algren, Manitoba (population, 1,500 -- give or take a few) might be what life is really like in a small town (the smallest?) in Canada and I was awash in all that folksy charm. On the other hand, Hosea Funk, the mayor of Algren was really quirky and really sweet and I began to get that jangly feeling that occurs when I sit on the couch eating Kellogg's Frosted Flakes right out of the box and watch too many sitcom marathons in a row on TV Land.

Shockingly, I found myself wanting Anne-Marie MacDonald to darkly descend and overpower Miriam Toews and order her out of the office to the nearest Tim Horton's just for a couple of chapters so she could shake her bleak, depressing thang and mitigate some of that sweetness and quirk.

Even though this wasn't my favorite read of the month, I'm grateful to Shanna for passing it along to me, happy that I'm now a Grain Elevator or something like that (4 books) in The Canadian Book Challenge and believe it or not, still game to read another Toews book, preferably the memoir about her father, but The Flying Troutmans would suit me fine, too.

10. Haiku (poetry) - Basho. How can verse so compressed be so fully sensual, playful and at times, belly-laugh humorous? These haiku were composed in the 1680s and 1690s, but they feel so fresh. Since I did a triple play of old, global and poetry with this selection, my Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm is completely docile right now and has vowed only the kindest words in next year's evaluation post. That's what I'm talking about, Bookbitch. Here are several of our favorite haiku from Basho: (who was only 50 when he died. eeeek.)

In my new robe

this morning --

someone else.

Winter downpour --

even the monkey

needs a raincoat.

Bright moon: I

stroll around the pond --

hey, dawn has come.

Moon-daubed bush-clover --

ssh, in the next room

snoring prostitutes.

Noon doze,

wall cool

against my feet.

.

Rainy days --

silkworms droop

on mulberries.

Girl cat, so

thin on love

and barley.

Old pond,

leap-splash --

a frog.

Year's end, all

corners of this

floating world, swept.

Samurai talk --

tang

of horse-radish.

Now then, let's go out

to enjoy the snow...until

I slip and fall.

January: Reading & Reviewing Part 1

13 books for the first month! If I keep going like this, I'll be romping around in triple digits in no time at all. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to contain my enthusiasm into capsule reviews, so I'll review some now and finish in my next blog post.

1. Ask The Dust (novel) - John Fante. Barely out of his teens, Arturo Bandini isn't a famous writer yet, but he's working on it by writing furiously and sending out his work to editor J.C. Hackmuth, whose picture Bandini has taped to the wall and talks to on occasion. In the meantime, he's reminding a not-quite-interested audience of his acquaintances that he is already the author of "The Little Dog Laughed", a short story that is his sole publication (thanks to Hackmuth). Bandini also makes frequent trips to the library so he can visit "the big boys on the shelves...Hya Dreiser, Hya Mencken" and checks out the spot on the shelves where he'll be someday: "...right there close to Arnold Bennett. Not much that Arnold Bennett, but I'd be there to sort of bolster up the B's."

Although he's dedicated to his art, there are distractions everywhere, like his nutso neighbor who gives up drinking and picks up a meat addiction in its stead and Camilla Lopez, a Mexican waitress at the nearby watering hole. Bandini and Camilla are interested in one another, but they have strange ways of showing it -- they're kind of like a low-rent 1930s Los Angeles Darcy and Elizabeth, circling one another.

Bandini is quite poor, so money's a constant concern. When his mother sends him ten bucks or he sells a story for fifty, Fante details precisely what the money is spent on. It's fascinating to see what everyday necessities and luxuries cost back in 1938 when Ask The Dust was published.

Fante's got a lean, engaging straightforward style -- kind of a cross between Saroyan and the hardboileds. I'm hoping to read more books by him, especially the others in the Bandini trilogy: Wait Until Spring, Bandini and The Road To Los Angeles.

2. Assassination Vacation (nonfiction) - Sarah Vowell. Vowell planned her vacation all around 3 assassinated presidents and their assassins as well as anything else remotely connected with their tragic stories -- for example, Dr. Samuel A. Mudd and the Oneida Community make appearances in Vowell's narrative. I'm dazzled by her ability to connect so many people and events. Watch for a brief cameo by Nick Hornby who accompanies Vowell on one of her excursions.

3. Moby-Dick (novel) - Herman Melville. Surprise! I've found another book that I want to re-read every 10 years! Melville is at the height of his powers in this, the greatest of all sea yarns. Actually, it's really the story of 2 men: Ahab, who met with near disaster in an encounter with Moby-Dick and wound up focused on finding this one whale and destroying him, and Ishmael who "alone survived to tell" about his near-fatal meeting with Moby-Dick and yet went on to develop a respect and fascination for all whales through years of intense study.

This novel is magnificent in its joyously expansive attempt to celebrate everything (science, history, philosophy, literature...) As far as American literature is concerned, Moby-Dick Melville seems a lot closer to Walt Whitman than to Nathaniel Hawthorne, who was Melville's lit-hero. For the record, Hawthorne didn't care for the novel, although I'd bet you a nice sushi dinner or a big-ass bowl of clam chowder that he had to at least grudgingly appreciate Ahab's dark, psychological swirlings since they were so reminiscent of his characters who always seem to be brooding on Just. One Thing.

If you decide to read this book, get a copy with notes in the back. The novel is so rich with information and allusion that I'm sure I missed almost as much as I took in during this highly enjoyable reading experience.

4. The Life You Can Save (nonfiction) - Peter Singer. The Australian philosopher not only encourages people to donate to charity, he also explores reasons why we choose not to give. He answers these arguments one by one and provides a general guide about where to give and how much to give. The copy I read was part of a Bookcrossing bookring; I wish I had my own.

5. The Painted Veil (novel) - W. Somerset Maugham. This novel zoomed to the top of my 'favorite Maugham novels' list. This book is dark chocolate good. Maugham is a brilliant storyteller. Let me count the ways: He can do the pretty and descriptive writing thing especially when he's describing the Chinese countryside at sunrise. Narrative? There's none better when it comes to cutting cleanly and precisely to the heart of a scene. Characterization? Check. It's a pleasure to encounter a protagonist as flawed as Kitty Fane and watch as she slowly comes to grips with her shortcomings then tries to struggle out of them.

.

It drives me absolutely effing crazy that Maugham has been undervalued as a short story writer and novelist for so many years when in reality some of his contemporaries would have to balance on each other's shoulders just to be able to reach up and kiss his backside. What I really mean to say is : Read The Painted Veil. Read it, read it, read it.

6. Kidnapped - Robert Louis Stevenson. If Providence must put this novel within your grasp, you wouldnae be wise to thrust it away. Kidnapped is the story of that pretty boy David Balfour's trials and fortunes, but it's also the story of Alan Breck, the famous Scottish outlaw who befriends David and saves him from several disasters, including the one of the title (arranged by his carbuncle of an uncle). David also helps Alan on many occasions; it's a fine bromance.

Ah, Alan! He's canny and droll and a handy lad with pistols and swords. I cannae tell a lie and you must by now ken that I would be blithe to hide out in the heather with Alan Breck, birstling or freezing, depending on nature's whim. I'd gladly stir up his drammach at mealtimes and look after him if he felt donsy and all the while, out of the tail of my eye, I'd be keeping a sharp lookout at the brae for enemies that wouldnae be laith to drag poor Alan off to the gallows.

Dinna pass up this classic tale of adventure. If you should spy a copy, you must be brisk and bid it come to your arms.

January: Buying

I have never kept track of how many books I buy in a year's time.

Is it as many as I think/fear/suspect?

We'll know the answer in a few more months.

Books bought in January, 2010: 8

1. Moby-Dick - Herman Melville. It was past time for my encounter with The White Whale. I saved money by buying a cheap Signet Classics edition with no explanatory notes in the back which I regret. New book.

2. Assassination Vacation - Sarah Vowell. What can I say? Sarah Vowell designed the perfect vacation! American history with humor and attitude. Used book.

3. Bud, Not Buddy - Christopher Paul Curtis. I want to read more children's literature and this story is set in Depression-era America, which makes it even more desirable. New book.

4. Wicked - Gregory Maguire. BOOKLEAVES book group pick. New book.

5. Great Expectations (audiobook) Narrated by the delectable Hugh Laurie. New audiobook and *very* expensive.

6. Towards Another Summer - Janet Frame. I recently read and saw the book and movie Angel At My Table and became interested in this New Zealand writer. New book.

7. The Rough Guide To Classic Novels - Simon Mason. As if my wishlist weren't already miles long. Brilliant list! The international aspect will knock your socks off. New book.

8. Frozen In Time: The Fate Of The Franklin Expedition - Owen Beattie & John Geiger. I bought this because I'm interested in doomed expeditions to the Arctic, but I also realized that the authors are Canadian! Good find, eh? Used book.

8 is a little overboard, but not as bad as I could be.