52 Books 52 Weeks

Oh my it's been awhile.

11. Real Man Adventures by T Cooper (finished March 19th)

Safe to say that before I read this book, my experiences with literature by trans authors was minimal to most likely none. This pseudo-memoir by T Cooper recounts what it's like to transform from a female to male, through interviews, anecdotes, lists, poems, and other various formats. While no one wants to be known solely for their "Otherness," a trans author still probably sticks out more than a female, minority, or even gay author. But hey, it's 2013, and as Next Magazine points out, more trans-authors are getting into the novel and fiction game. For now, T Cooper offers a wonderful insight into the hopes, dreams, and fears of a transgendered person, happily married with two kids.

(click here for my full, original review on Frontier Psychiatrist)




11a. Piano Rats by Franki Elliot (finished March 22nd)

It's a bit unfair of me to not include this as a part of my 52 books. Yes, it is a short collection of poetry that I read on a couple train rides to and from work, but why should brevity deprive from merit? I'm mostly not including this since I've flipped through it a few times last year, but finally read the collection in full. Dark tales of love, broken-hearts, unsent letters, insanity, hook-ups, "melancholy is just beauty of a different flavor," Pilsen, a seven hour kiss, mermaids, y mas. Looking forward to her next book out later this year, "Kiss As Many Women As You Can."








12. Spilt Milk by Chico Buarque (finished March 25th)

In preparation for my trip to Brazil, I felt to at least introduce myself to Brazilian literature. Naturally, time got away from me, but I was at least able to finish this on the plane to New York. From the perspective of a crumbling patriarch restricted to a nursing home bed, he recounts his of married life, his machismo father, to the dissolution of his wealth and changing culture in 20th century Brazil. The unreliable narrator is in full effect, as he repeats himself over and over again, but that's what we all do even with a conscious mind isn't it? "If I don't remind myself about this, how do I know it happened?" I only hope my delirious rants are as interesting when I reach that age.







13. Drown by Junot Diaz (finished April 9th)

With 11 hours to kill on the plane between Buenos Aires and New York, I managed to knock out the entire collection of Diaz's debut collection of short stories. I've read his two other books, both of which not without their own colorful language (doesn't it sound racist to describe a Domincan author as colorful?), but this early collection certainly has a rawness that not even his later stories have shown. Mostly, I'm guessing due in part to being from the perspective of a child. Overall, I think this is probably the best introduction to Diaz's work, primarily for its rawness; an unfiltered, sultry, "fuck"-filled collection of stories from the island.









14. Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami (finished April 17th)

My second trip into the bizarre and absurd world of Murakami. With alternating tales from (presumably) present day Tokyo and what comes across as a medieval, walled-in community, with little-to-no culture and unicorns. Our main character is unwittingly cast up a path to discover what exactly is at the depths of the mind, the duality of its limits and limitlessness. While the book certainly kept me rapidly flipping pages, I didn't find it nearly as masterful as The Wind Up Bird Chronicle. And there is either a simplicity in dialogue I don't remember from that book, or the translation leaves something to be desired, or he just writes dialogue that...placidly. That said, Murakami's books exist in quite the unique universe, and he is an author I certainly need to spend more time with.

52 Books 52 Weeks

I recently wrote about both these books for Frontier Psychiatrist. One I loved, one was meh. Let's start with the meh.

9. There Once Lived a Girl Who Seduced Her Sister’s Husband and He Hanged Himself by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya (finished March 6th)

Obviously the title is what attracted me to this book. Ominous, morbid, bizarre, I figured it'd be right up my alley. Unfortunately, the collection of short stories by the celebrated Russian author failed to really grip. What few moments of perceptive insight (is that a redundancy?) were overshadowed by the failure to create well-rounded characters, offering only a sketch of disappointingly unfulfilling stories. I try to seek the good in every censored writer, as it is something I doubt I will ever have to encounter and it takes courage to write in such an oppressive society, but there just wasn't anything memorable to me in the collection.

(click here for the full, original review)






10. A Tale For the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki (finished March 12th)

READ THIS BOOK. RIGHT NOW. I've gushed about this enough on Facebook and Twitter and to anyone who has had the (mis)fortune talking to me while I've been drunk since I read this book because I've just been going on and on about. Please someone else read this so we can talk about it. Long story short: woman in Vancouver finds a diary written by a girl in Tokyo, woman tries to find out more about this girl and her family's history. Learn about environmental devastation, crows, Marcel Proust, "the half-life of information," meta-fiction, and the differences (or lack thereof) between Zen Buddhism and quantum mechanics.

(click here for the full, original review)

52 Books 52 Weeks

Uh oh. I'm falling behind. Shit. Ok. Here's a recent recap.

(5a. A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

I know I know I know. I'm not counting this one for my 52 book count. It was a quick read of short memoirs published posthumously. I started it since I was reading a lot about the modernist period, and Hemingway not only has some great passages that give insight into his first marriage, but to Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald as well. Not to mention Paris in the 20s was no doubt a magical time of creativity, so much so that even the seemingly innocuous or simple stories are downright inspiring within that setting and Hemingway's use of language as a 1-2 punch to bring his point home.)









(Full reviews for Pow! and How To Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia are on Frontier Psychiatrist: Don't Speak, Tell...)

6. Pow! by Mo Yan (finished February 8th)

Last year's Nobel Prize winner in literature has been under much criticism. Since he is a Communist Party member, other Chinese writers and artists say he is not true in his words, and he has been criticized for not speaking out enough for jailed contemporaries. He responded to many of these allegations in his first interview since winning the prize. As for the story itself, it weaves contemporary with traditional themes, in a tale that focuses around a family that works in a slaughterhouse. Bathed in dark humor and magical realism, the alternating timelines and vulgarity of the book made for an unexpectedly fascinating read. The ending was unfortunately a bit rushed, but Yan had me in his grips all the way leading up to then. As disappointing as the end was, the rest of the novel was enough for me to want to check out his earlier works. 





7. How To Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia by Mohsin Hamid (finished February 12th)

This is the third novel by Pakistani born Mohsin Hamid. As its title implies, it reads as a how-to book, and can be read as one character's life over seven decades, or various storylines happening simultaneously. It was a quick read, and danced between a light-heartedness as well as uncovering the harsh reality of trying to better ones place in "Rising Asia." While the setting is most likely inspired by Hamid's native Lahore, it never specifically mentions it. The book was good overall, but something about the quick pace of it leaves me wanting more, and not necessarily in a good way. What I do appreciate about the book is its attempt (inadvertently, I'm sure) to break the barrier between First and Third World Issues, when so often they are the exact same thing.





 8. Out by Natsuo Kirino (finished February 25th)

Whoa, this was a fucked up book. Four women work the night shift at a boxed lunch factory, and all struggle in their personal lives. One with a family that ignores her, one who has to take care of her own senile mother, one who's husband leaves her after a dramatic fight, and one who ends up murdering her husband. This last woman gets the help from the other women to help her out, but cutting up the body into tiny pieces and disposing of it in various places around the suburbs Tokyo. Between reading this and recently watching Lost in Beijing (a film banned in mainland China, which involves the lives of two Chinese couples dealing with the consequences of rape and infidelity), not to mention the previous two books, my head is reeling in how seedy, dirty, and unethical the entire continent of Asia is. I jest of course, but it was certainly eye-opening, surprising, and an intense cerebral experience to take in all of this in a short period of time.

52 Books 52 Weeks

(Full reviews for Heroines and the Aviator's Wife on Frontier Psychiatrist:  Behind Every Great Man...)

3. Heroines by Kate Zambreno (finished January 19th)

Zambreno takes an experimental approach to describing the lives of specific women writers over the past 150 years, particularly with Vivienne Eliot and Zelda Fitzgerald. Plenty of wordplay (particularly with homonyms; for example, the title of the book), non-linearity and changing perspectives (including autobiographical accounts) make it a challenging but important read for anyone interested in feminist works. Read more of Zambreno at Frances Farmer is My Sister.

4. Mrs. Dalloway by Virgina Woolf (finished January 26th)

While I've never read anything by Woolf I would say has drastically changed my life, I feel she is an important writer and one I particularly need to catch up on. Mrs Dalloway is throwing a party in early 20th century London, and the book describes through various perspectives and stream-of-consciousness writing the eccentricities and complexities of the people involved. I hated parts of this book (a few of my annotations include circling phrases and wondering "WHY?") but found other parts rather poignant. Certainly not a long novel, but could have benefited from even more edits and finished as a novella.

5. The Aviator's Wife by Melanie Benjamin (finished January 29th)

No, I haven't gotten around to The Paris Wife yet, although that may hold more interesting subject matter. Benjamin's historical fiction work explores the personal relationship between Anne Morrow and her husband Charles Lindbergh. An overwhelmingly popular couple, harassed constantly by the paparazzi, they had to deal with communication issues (duh), a kidnapped and murdered first born child, and a perpetual state of movement, the couple eventually betrayed by the country that once adored them (some of that may have had to do with Chuck's anti-Semetic, pro-Nazi point of view, pre-WWII). The book was interesting enough, but I feel like Benjamin just didn't get as deep into Morrow's mind as she could have.

52 Books 52 Weeks

1. A Chinese Life by Li Kunwu (finished January 8th)

Full review is up on Frontier Psychiatrist: Big Red Book: A Review of Li Kunwu, A Chinese Life.

A nearly 700 page graphic novel about growing up in China in the 50s/60s, through the Cultural Revolution, the death of Mao Zedong and subsequent economic boom the country is experiencing. Fascinating story told in a unique way. I'm not even sure the book was published in China, but rather originally in French, as the main purpose of the book is to express to Westerners what life in China has been like. I find myself more and more focused and interested in that country by the day; it's depressing to read of continuous censorship and environmental issues over there.









2. Gorilla, My Love by Toni Cade Bambara (finished January 12th)

A collection of short stories that explore the black experience in the Civil Rights era, written in a raw and expressive cadence, affectionately described as The Black Style on the back cover. Not every story drew me in deep, but the ones that did did it well. 'The Survivor' relates the experience of giving birth, 'The Lesson' finds poor children discovering the cold truth of social hierarchy, and the Maggie in 'Maggie of the Green Bottles' straddles the line between innocence and maturity. While the stories range across multiple generations of characters, there was one link I found interesting. In 'Happy Birthday,' one character laments "I don't understand kids sometimes." This comes a few stories after 'My Man Bovanne,' where the main character's daughter spits back at her that "[the generation gap] is a white concept for a white phenomenon. There's no generation gap among Black people. We are a col-" She gets cut off before she can finish. Collective? Collaboration across time?