Rachel Kushner - 'Telex From Cuba'

First thing I've read by Kushner. It was highly acclaimed in 2008 when it was released and a finalist for the National Book Award. Naturally, I was skeptical, but every bit of praise for this book is well deserved. The story follows multiple characters in Cuba leading up to the revolution of 1959 which found the US backed Batista overthrown by Fidel Castro. The book reveals tensions between the Cubans that worked in the sugar cane fields run by US expats...sorry, US *immigrants*. Much of the perspectives are through the children of these wealthy families, often having fled the US for various legal reasons, or have lived a life in limbo throughout various Latin and Central American countries.

Kushner's writing fulfills all of the senses. Not a scene passes without her describing the various smells and sounds of the country and its people, about the myriad colors that lend themselves to the landscape. There are lyrical flourishes on every page, such as "the wind gusted like a personality" or "it was an afternoon of time outside of time."

But these subtle flourishes don't allow themselves to dominate the story either. Each character, whether the naive children, drunk housewives, a cabaret dancer, Cuban militants, or a secretive French agitator, are fully formed with reflective, philosophical thoughts bubbling throughout the narrative. Of course, some characters are more receptive to these philosophical inquiries than others that would rather deny the painful truths, and the impending revolution about to take place.

Cyn Vargas 'On The Way' / Rey Andújar 'Saturnalia'

So.

First off.

There's not really too much of a reason to lump these two books together. Other than the fact that they are both collections of short stories written by authors living in Chicago, put out by Chicago presses, and I finished reading both on the same day. And the settings for both alternate between various locations in Latin America and the United States. Other than that, there's not much of a connection, and I'm writing about them together solely based on my timing of reading them. Let's start with On The Way.

I picked this book up at City Lit about a month ago. I'm always game to try anything Curbside Splendor puts out, even if the epigraph is a Radiohead lyric. But a blurb on the back from Bonnie Jo Campbell meant I would pick it up anyway.

Let's start with this: these stories are not uplifting. They're not always tragic, but they are often heartbreaking. It's not the fact that death always awaits us (it does sometimes), but that more often, bad things happen and the devastation permeates itself in its wake throughout a life; lucky are we who don't have to identify with many of these stories. The protagonists are generally women. They've been abused, they've been cheated on, they've been divorced, they've been abandoned in physical and existential ways. Vargas writes about women young and old, who've experienced a lot and who've experienced a lot of pain. Rarely do they find redemption. In an interview with Kati Heng, Vargas revealed her personal connection with some of these characters, how she identifies with them, and why they need their voices to be heard: "To appreciate the joy, you have to have the pain too. I think I am able to write bittersweet stories because I have lived through it."

Criticism

Francis Bacon, Figure with Meat (1954)

I've long been undecided on what to call it is what I do with my writing online. Is it fair to say I do book and music reviews? Can I consider myself a critic? I listen to a lot of stuff I don't like, and I generally just ignore it. With literature, I'm more particular about what I read, since it is more of a time involvement. Not to say I always play it safe, but I at least want to find something that will at least bring something new to the world of literature. So when I "review" things, they are generally positive. No press is bad press, so why waste time putting words together to indirectly promote something I don't like?

It's this point of view that many have argued is what is wrong with critics today. I'm not sure how much of a critical eye or ear I have. But I consume a lot, and for things that I like, I want to promote them. That's why you're here. You think that I have something to offer (a new band, a new book) that you as well will enjoy and will enhance your life in some way. Perhaps that is why I like Twitter. I can simply express distaste for something in a sentence or two, not worry about thinking about it critically.

A recent article by Maria Popova is quite in line with my point of view. The brief article culminates in this final line: "That is the promise of the critic-as-celebrator—to inform and shape culture by virtue of elevation." Which reinforces that you don't have to like everything: not everyone deserves a trophy. And yeah, I guess it is a little hippieish, not wasting time spreading negative energy and all that. Ultimately, if a book is so shitty that it creates feelings of ire from the depths of my being, it may be worth writing about for stirring as intense of an emotion that the most brilliantly life-changing novels have made me feel. But boredom, dislike, or (worst of all) a complete lack of any emotional stir isn't worth the time that I already spent reading such a piece of garbage. 


Further reading:

The Decline of Book Reviewing

Against Enthusiasm

The Case for Positive Book Reviews