"The Stupidest Angel" by Christopher Moore

It was time I allowed myself to read some contemporary novels, and since Christmas was rolling around, I thought it would be fun to read a novel about Christmas. I went with Christopher Moore's "Stupidest Angel." I hadn't read anything by Moore before and had been curious about him for quite some time, seeing that he was pretty popular. I listened to an episode of Live Wire where he was on, and thought he was pretty funny. I didn't expect this to be great writing, and I thought I would get some laughs and entertainment out of it.

I was wrong. This book is stupider than I could ever imagine. I didn't even think this kind of writing was allowed to be published. The plot is pure trash, comparable to really bad TV shows or straight-to-DVD movies. The writing style is immature and cheap. I don't remember the last time I read anything that was this awful, and can't imagine what kind of people find this kind of writing worth the time.

To sum up the plot without giving too much away, the story is about the citizens of a small town that was visited by an angel on a mission to grant a child his wish. A lot of people hating each other. A lot of troubled relationships. A lot of over-the-top characters inspiring cheap jokes. Zombies. Et cetera.

I wouldn't have as much problem with the plot if the book were well-written. Moore does have a great imagination. The talking bat and the conversations among the dead in the graveyard could be clever. Unfortunately he lacks the talent to breathe intelligence in to his creations. They all seem to have come straight from sitcoms. Sitcoms characters, however, belong on TV and nowhere else. Translating that kind of storytelling into the written form can only produce crap. Moore's writing sounds like it was written by somebody who watches a lot of TV and doesn't read much. He cites Steinbeck and Vonnegut as his influence, which isn't really apparent to me.

It was a quick read, and I'm glad I didn't waste too much time on it. It did teach me a thing or two about writing, and it was nice to read something heavily plot-driven once in a while.

I went to the library yesterday, wanting to check out some more novels. This time I know enough to open each book up to a random page and read a few paragraphs from it to see if the writing style is worth my time. You may or may not enjoy the plot--there is no way to know that until you read the book and find out--but the writing style is, to me, is more important. An intelligent and eloquent writing style is not only enjoyable to read but also beneficial to the brain and the soul. Why read if not to better oneself? What book is worth the time if it doesn't help you to grow?

"A Dialogue on Love" by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick

What fascinates me most about this book is how much I enjoy reading it despite the lack of enticing story or characters that I care about. I just really love the way she writes.

Sedgwick, who passed away not too long ago, is truly an inspiration. I was used to her intellect as a literary and cultural critic, but had no idea she was such a poet. This book isn't about queer topics or literature--although there are, as should be expected, references to those things and their roles in her life; instead it is about herself as revealed in a series of therapy sessions. I'm not sure if she arrives at any conclusions about any of the topics she explores here, but there are great insights offered here in such a captivating way there is no need for closure.

Biographies are always convoluted. Autobiographies, though generally regarded as more accurate, are possibly even more convoluted. What you read is what the author wants you to know, and how can you know if they want you to know the truth? Fortunately the truth isn't what I'm interested in; Sedgwick's intelligence is, and that is what we get here. As she explores her childhood, beliefs, and dreams, we get incredible insights into her thought process, her struggle as she turns her critical lens toward herself.

It is purely a pleasure to read, an experience like no others I have had before.

"On the Road" by Jack Kerouac

Oh, where to begin. It took me way too long to read this book, and way too much effort. I didn't enjoy it at all, and think it is among some of the dullest books I have ever read. Seriously, what is there to like about the story? There isn't a single event in the novel that I think is even slightly intriguing. His prose is rich with descriptions about people and places that I cannot care less about. I kept expecting a Cyclops to show up. I've talked to several people who loved the book and asked them why they liked it. The answers were similar: they liked it because it is a fantasy, because we can't hitchhike across the country and go on adventures with barely any money in our pocket anymore, and because he goes to these interesting places and meet these interesting people. Well, interesting isn't the word I would use to describe anything in this book.

I wish I had enjoyed it more. It is on so many lists of great books that I feel like I should like it. I don't even like it in context. The last paragraph is gorgeous, though.

"A Boy's Own Story" by Edmund White

While the main reason I fell in love with "A Boy's Own Story" was Edmund White's superb writing style, I did not fail to recognize the qualities that makes it a great work of literature. The semi-autobiographical novel illustrates the life of a closetted-homosexual boy as he grows up and struggles to find his identity--this is something to which I can relate.

The journey of the narrator involves sexual experiences with many men in his life. We don't get to know much about these men; instead we get to know more about the narrator as his character is explored through his experiences with the men. These experiences, instead of enriching his life, torment him further with shame.

The men with whom he is romantically or sexually involved can be roughly divided into two categories. The first are those with whom he falls in love and imagines spending his life. These men are heterosexual, who teaches him the notion of unrequited love, with which he enjoys despite the pain in causes. He stresses several times that he wants to love them but not to actually be with them, because that would make them homosexual and therefore ruins his fantasy. The second category is men who use him for their pleasure. He wants them to, and becomes resentful when he hears of them using other boys and not him. The young narrator is dying for attention, for experience, and not getting it makes him feel worthless. At the same time, getting it doesn't make him feel either, because it doesn't fulfill his fantasy to have a life partner.

The narrator is struggling between two conflicting desires: one in which he lives a picture-perfect life, and one in which he is a vicious seducer who ruins men's lives. Growing gay without a role model can make finding one's identity difficult. Aside from the sexual encounters, the book spends a big portion describing the narrator's exploration of different religions and ways to be spiritual, as well as his attempt to cure his homosexuality. He takes his fate in his own hands and doesn't abide by the rules, which I think is what makes the story so rich. He is daring, driven, and doesn't settle for what is handed down to him.

What I've been reading

In case you think I've been slacking off, I have in fact been reading a whole lot. Here are a few titles that have been occupying my time:

Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne
Having not spent my childhood in the US, I missed out on a lot of great literature for children that my friends grew up with. This is one of those titles. For me to read a book like this, I really have to be in the mood for it, and I was. As an adult I find this book charming. There is a lot of humor that derives from the childlike imagination of the author. It reminds of of what it feels like to be a kid. The characters are adorable and their tales entertaining. I find these elements in children's books necessary for the soul, and am glad I took the time to enjoy it.


All About Love by bell hooks
Bell hooks rubbed me the wrong way when I was first introduced to her work. It took me a while to realize that my judgment as a young scholar was neither valid nor worth holding on to. Many friends of mine had praised the greatness of this book to me, so I thought I should give it a try. The work is insightful and inspiring, and I enjoyed it almost thoroughly. Hooks discusses the common perception of love, and how people choose to express it and the consequences of their expression to themselves, their lovers, and their community. Toward the end the narrative wandered too far off into the endorsement of religion and the supernaturals, which I thought undermined the seriousness of the work. Her intelligence, however, is present throughout, and no matter what your view of love or how much you think you understand the subject, I think you will learn something from this work.

Wit by Margaret Edson
Wouldn't it be nice if we can all write our first play and win a Pulitzer for it? Maybe, but I'd rather not win any award but constantly get my plays produced throughout my life, unlike Edson. "Wit" is her first and only play to date that has been produced on stage, and I wonder what other tricks she has up her sleeves. I didn't find the work particularly genius. It is about an English professor who is dying of ovarian cancer. I'm sure it can be moving if performed well, but I don't find it a great work of drama. I thought the way Edson incorporates into the play her knowledge of John Donne and metaphysical poetry as well as the literary discussion of witticism both amateurish and uninteresting. There are works that make literary references in intelligent ways that make you admire the knowledge of the authors--this is not one of those works. If it were a musical, Andrew Lloyd Webber will probably score it. It wasn't a bore to read, but wasn't particularly a good read either.

"Distance" by Raymond Carver

A few days ago I was having a conversation with my friend Don about Raymond Carver. We expressed our admiration for his work, especially his ability to tell intensely painful stories in a simple writing style. Some writers receive praise for their flowery prose or the complexity of their language, but a series of small paragraphs compacted into a concise story, which gives the same effect as a punch in the stomach or a slap on the face, is no less of an achievement.

Once in a while between reading big books I would read a few stories from my Carver collection, "Where I'm Calling From: Selected Stories"--a classic. Having not done so in a while, and being reminded of it by the conversation, I pulled the book out of the shelf and started reading from where I left off--a story called "Distance."

In the story, a father recounts to his daughter the story of when she was a baby, on the night when her parents were kept awake by her crying. It is about the relationship of a young, impoverished couple and the emotional struggle in their relationship. It is also about the mortality of love, which is a theme that I have seen in his other stories. What I like about it is the way he portrays a troubled relationship while hinting that there is another side of the story that isn't being told. While all we see is two people fighting, we also know that there are days when they are happy together, even though he doesn't tell us about it--it is integrated into the fight, as if they fight to show their love and longing for each other. While I don't like that he portrays the female character as the hysterical mother, I feel he does justice to motherhood anxiety and the feeling of being left behind to do all the work alone.

I have no conclusion for this. It's a good story. Get the book. Read the stories.

"Cinnamon Skin" by Edmund White

This is my first Edmund White, and a tragically beautiful short story. It is written to seem autobiographical, but as always we should never make that assumption. Besides, there is always some degree of fabrication in all autobiographies.

The story begins with the narrator introducing himself and the people in his life. Many characters are introduced, and it seems at first like a great opening chapter of a novel. The characters are developed through small events, told in flashbacks. Later, the story turn to its main event, which is the narrator's trip to Acapulco with his father and stepmother, and turns into a story about sexual discovery.

The way the narrator sees the world helps us to see who he is. There are moments when nothing monumental happens, but so much about the character is realized through his commentary about gender roles and stems from his interactions with other characters, and sometimes through his sexual arousal caused by the sights of men he sees throughout the story. How often do writers ask themselves what important event they can come up with so that they can have a great story and develop a great character? Sometimes, when the character already exists vividly in our mind, all we have to do is to let him live and so much will be revealed. The way he sees things can show us who he is, and the things he believes in can affect the way he lives his life and the relationships he has with others.

White uses very few dialogues, yet the story moves quickly and is captivating throughout. Nobody would think to ask if there are too many or too few dialogues if there are the right amount of them. I don't think there is one amount that is appropriate for every story; these things need to come naturally. White seems to let the dialogues emerge naturally, and the voices of the main characters sound clearly to me even though they are heard so rarely.

As is clearly demonstrated in this story, White is a superb writer. Aside from being a great craftsman, he also has a poetic voice and a shameless honesty that is required in order to fill his fiction with truth. I highly recommend "Cinnamon Skin."

"A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway

I feel like I always have to find a new way to write about the book I have just read. Each time it is a struggle. Usually if something about the work really moves me, then it is that very thing that takes the focus in my response to the work. But a lot of time I have to ask myself what it is that I can write about the work. Sometimes the simplest question such as what is the book about is very tough to answer.

I thoroughly enjoy reading "A Farewell to Arms," mostly because of the writing style. Hemingway's prose is simple yet poetic. He keeps the story moving all the time while making every scene and every emotion very vivid in the readers' mind. He has a way of describing a lot of things without wearing the readers out.

It is a story about World War I, and at the heart of it is a love story between Frederic Henry, the narrator who is most often referred to as "Tenente," and Catherine Barkley, his nurse. The novel portrays the soldiers' mentality superbly; what I find lacking is the emotional effect in the love story. Despite being inspired by Hemingway's own affair, I don't feel moved by the love story. Too often I found myself unsure of the love they felt for each other. Most of the scenes in this novel, including the scenes between the two lovers, are constructed with one spoken line after another with barely any narrations incorporated into the dialogues. That might have made the romance more believable and effective.

Despite not being completely enthralled by the story or the characters, I find the writing style infectious, making me want to read more of Hemingway's works soon. I didn't mention that this is my first Hemingway. It is a surprise I had waited this long. I have been spending most of my time reading British literature and missing out on a lot of American goods. Now that I'm not in school anymore I'm learning to give myself more freedom to explore the world of literature. I don't think my ever-growing list of books to be read immediately, or books I should have read years ago, or books I have been wanting to read in forever, will ever end. My life will before it does.

“The Road” was my first Cormac MacCarthy, and certainly it will not be the last. I picked it up for two reasons: 1) I’ve been trying to read more contemporary works, and; 2) a few years ago everybody seems to be reading this book, and I had heard great things. I knew the style was going to be unconventional, and that the plot was going to be depressing. Already I anticipated having a hard time with it.

As it turned out, however, it only took a few pages to get me completely into it. MacCarthy’s prose was eloquent and moving. I didn’t have a hard time with his refusal to use dialogue tags or quotation marks, because he wrote so well it was clear what was going on at every moment. The story doesn’t really go anywhere, but there is something fascinating in watching the characters live and survive among the unusual and seemingly impossible circumstances. I don’t particularly sympathize with the characters; what is captivating is how they deal with the situations, and what they reveal about themselves as they face challenges.

I have had conversations with people who are turned off by writing styles that aren’t easily accessible. I, too, am not particularly fond of unconventionality, especially when it seems forced or unreasonable. I don’t think that is the case with “The Road,” even though I can’t exactly explain why it had to be written this way, nor do I think MacCarthy has an answer for that. But the thought that occurred in my head as I was reading it was that somebody had to write like this—that there cannot be only one way to write the novel. Readers shouldn’t set any expectation on what the pages should look like when they open the book. It should always be an adventure to discover what style the author chooses to employ in order to tell a particular story. Because I didn’t have a hard time with the style in which this book was written, I appreciated it, not because I thought it was genius, but because the form must constantly change and grow in order for it to survive, and because somebody found a way to change it and make it work superbly.

Note on Reading Short Stories.

Short stories and short poems are the two things that I don't spend nearly as much time on as I should. They are just as important to my studies as the bigger works, since I study literature and want to know about all literatures. A big aspect of reading that I enjoy is the satisfaction of having read something big, which is probably why I don't read shorter works much.

But because one needs to read what one writes, I need to read short stories more. I often find answers to problems I have with my writing in reading short stories; a good story often contains examples of all the things you need when you have writer's blocks. It is also stimulating to read a brief, self-contained piece of work that is truly brilliant. Great short stories writer can make the characters so interesting you remember them the way you remember characters in novels. I had a discussion in a writing class a while back, in which we discovered that most of the stories we had read for the class focused on the characters than the plots. This, of course, isn't true to all short stories, but I have discovered that this proves to be true in most of the stories that I have read. And I enjoy these stories tremendously.

Reading short stories can help you to discover authors with whom you are not familiar. It is a quick way to get to know their writing styles. There are many authors whose names I recognize but whose works I have never read. Reading their stories help me to decide whether or not I want to read their works.

Last week I went and bought a new short story anthology--it was published in 2008, so not that new, but new to me. It is titled "The Ecco Anthology of Contemporary American Short Fiction" selected by Joyce Carol Oates and Christopher R. Beha. So far I have read two great stories, one of which is "The Love of My Life" by T.C. Boyle, which I highly recommend. I might write a more in depth discussion on it later.

"Nausea" by Jean-Paul Sartre; Lloyd Alexander, trans.

This month I planned to spend most of my reading time on French literature. This book was my first choice.

"Nausea" is well known as an Existentialist novel. I knew next to nothing about Existentialism, and didn't really take the time to research it before reading the novel. But it didn't matter. I read the book the same way I did any other novel.

The philosophy behind the work is pretty obvious; it drives the whole story. Most of the book takes place inside the narrator's head. His name is Antoine; he is a writer and historian. The novel is written as a compilation of journal entries, and there is an indication in the beginning that the journals were "found" rather than published by the author, so he might have been dead or somehow not responsible for the publication of his work. The events aren't all that exciting, but they all lead him to the conclusion of the meaninglessness of life. This climax is then followed by his realization that one is free to give life any meaning one wishes.

What I found impressive about the book is the writing. The book was so well written that I thoroughly enjoy it, despite it being heavy with philosophical ideas that I don't particularly care about. The book made a big impact on the readers when it was published in 1938, but the ideas that it presents are nothing new in our time. What made it so enjoyable to me is how well it is structured and orchestrated. Everything that happens has its purpose. As the character goes through his simple life, his thoughts continue to develop into a grand revelation.

Aside from being packed with ideas, the book is also a well conceived novel. There are many elements here that would benefit students of literature and creative writing. It might not have been so famous had it not been for the Existentialistic impact, but it is a good novel nonetheless. And since one of the important aspects of literature studies is looking at the work in accordance to the society, I would say that it is necessary to add this book to your repertoire.

"Possible Side Effects" by Augusten Burroughs

I wouldn't consider Augusten Burroughs one of my favorite writers, but he is one of the contemporary writers whose works I follow. And by follow I don't mean that I read all of his works as soon as they come out; what I mean is that I am in touch with what he has published, and do choose to read his work when I have the time, or when I feel like reading something that isn't too serious. I have read two of his autobiographies, "Running with Scissors" and "Dry." The former I found intriguing in a disturbing and compelling way; the latter I thought was enjoyable though a bit too contrived and overwritten at times. I also read his collection of stories/essays entitled "Magical Thinking," which was thoroughly entertaining, though some of his jokes were simply in bad taste. (Saying that he was responsible for the return of Elizabeth Smart to her family, jeering about her being raped, for example.)

I spent the last couple of months reading "Possible Side Effects," another collection of essays, and found it to be worse than any of the books mentioned above. I thought the stories were neither interesting nor funny. The jokes were so dumb you would laugh more watching sitcoms on CW. I remember very few occasions when I actually laughed or chuckled while reading this book. Mostly I just found his narrative infuriatingly obnoxious.

Burroughs is often compared to David Sedaris; their styles are somewhat similar, although I would say Burroughs's is much darker. I prefer Sedaris, because I find him overall more intelligent; his comedy derives from his witty view on uncommon and oftentimes unfortunate situations. I also find that Sedaris has a more intellectual approach to writing; Burroughs writing often sounds like a dictated manuscript of a stand-up comedy show.

But to judge Burroughs by comparing him to Sedaris would be unfair. Any criticisms I have for "Possible Side Effects" come from my experience reading the book alone. I kept waiting for a good story, or a good joke, but what I found were mostly pointless, badly written stories that neither entertain nor offer anything for me to think about. When I read "Running with Scissors," I thought Burroughs had an original voice, and I admired his courage to tread on such dark and risky territories. I don't find that in this book; even his unique voice lost its authenticity and sounds more like an imitation of a bitchy, stereotypical gay guy. I still believe that Burroughs has something to contribute to the literary world, but I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone who had never been exposed to him before--they may never want to read any more of him.

"Moonlight" by Harold Pinter

They call Harold Pinter one of the most prominent playwrights in our time. He is English--born in East London in the 30s--and gained popularity late in the 50s. I thought it was about time I started reading some of his works. I went to the library and picked up a few titles, one of which is "Moonlight," which is one of his later play.

I enjoyed the process of reading it. It was fun exploring these characters, and I found the dialogues intriguing. However, this is one of those eccentric plays wherein you have to be in a particular mood, or be a particular kind of reader/audience, to truly like it. It consists of seven characters: a dying father, his wife, his two sons, his daughter, his mistress, and his friend. The dying father recalls the memories of the people he loves, the two sons talk to each other in code to avoid confronting the issue, and the daughter is probably dead.

I often say that a good production can make a play good or bad. It is difficult, and I think wrong, to make a final judgment on any theatrical work. What I don't like on the page may be fantastic on stage, if it is interpreted by people who understand it in a certain way that I don't. I can say that what I find on the pages of this play does not amount to much; it was a fun read, and interesting at times, but I don't see how as a whole it conveys any strong message. I don't see the premise that drives it forward, and it doesn't leave me with any long-lasting impression. Does that make it a bad play? I don't know.

One of my most favorite things about going to the theater is seeing a play about which I know nothing of. It is nice to sit back and be told a story. If "Moonlight" were playing in my area, I might go see it and bring a friend or two. But as a work of literature, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone.

And I mean no disrespect to Pinter. After all, he is one of the most prominent playwrights in our time, and who am I to judge him?

A Clockwork Orange" by Anthony Burgess

The feeling I get from reading "A Clockwork Orange" is similar to that from reading "The Catcher in the Rye." The narrator is unlikeable, and that makes it hard to stay in his head. However, it is always a daring move to let an unlikable character narrate the story, and to make the reader sympathize with such a character is always a great literary achievement.

In the beginning I found it difficult to get into the novel, not only because of the unorthodox narrator, but also because of the lingo he uses. Writing it as a dystopian novel, the author is able to exercise his creative license to its fullest extent. Burgess chooses to create a new lingo for Alex, with which I had a bit of a hard time at first. It is perhaps not that difficult to create such a lingo, but to make it make sense is another story. Halfway in I already got used to these words and even began to replace real words with them in my head. This language in infectious, just like Alex; once I got into it, I could hardly put it down.

Recently I have been paying attention to the structure of the works I read, and find that a story doesn't have to have a complex plot in order for it to be enjoyable; what matters more is that it has a good structure. It is hard to enjoy a book when one constantly gets lost in it, and one gains very little from the experience if the message of the book is obscure due to weak structuring. "Clockwork" is a novella; it is short and swift, straightforward and framed in such a way that guides readers to the direction it wants us to go. When the structure is too obvious or overworked, it could make the work seem amateurish. I think Burgess discovers a way to walk right in the middle.

"Clockwork" is dark, and in order for it to achieve the effect that it does--fear, agony, sympathy--to the degree that it does, it has to be told by the narrator himself. Alex transfers his emotions to us; he lets us know what it feels like to enjoy violence, and then to be tormented by it. It is up to the reader to open up his or her mind and to be willing to embody this character. This novel isn't for everybody or anybody, but it certainly is a thrilling ride.


***SPOILER ALERT***

I need to discuss the 21st chapter, which is originally cut out from the first couple of American editions. Burgess was pretty pissed off about it. The chapter was published in the original, British version, as well as in all the other translations that were published around the world. Apparently the American publisher thought it was unnecessary, and that the book would do better without the glimpse of hope in the end that Alex would change. The chose to end the book with the 20th chapter, in which Alex is cured--he is no longer vulnerable to thoughts of violence--and seems to go back to the way he used to be, as opposed to feeling bored with that way of life and considering turning his life around. On one hand I think the author should have the right to control how his book should end, or what the message of the book should be. I also believe that the readers have the right to read what the author intends to publish, and decide for themselves whether or not that is a good ending. But on the other hand, I like the "American" ending better. It makes more sense, I suppose. I also find the 21th chapter heavy-handed. Burgess says that there is no point in writing a story without a good message, or without the growth and improvement of the character(s). With this I disagree. The growth can be the goal, the point toward the story is driven, but it is the journey that makes a good story, and whether or not he gets there or ends up elsewhere is up to fate.

"Six Characters in Search of an Author" by Luigi Pirandello; adapted by Robert Brustein

Luigi Pirandello's "Six Characters in Search of an Author" is a play mentioned in many books about drama and Modernist literature that I have come across. The version that I just read was published in 1998, adapted by Robert Brustein. Adapted, not translated--this means that the text isn't merely translated from Italian to English, but that the context of it is altered at the hand of Brustein. There is an implication that certain things might have been updated, supplied to, and subtracted from the original text to create this version. As I have not read the translation of the original Italian, I have no idea how much different this version is from the original play. Overall, I find it an easy read, but not very impressive. The format of the play is interesting and must have been innovative in the Modern period, but the plot is typical and predictable. It might not have been so in 1921, but it certainly is now. I can't envision how this play can be staged today that would make it appealing to the audience, but it seems like a good material for a Modernism class.

"The Color Purple" by Alice Walker has been on my reading list for a very long time. When I found a $1 copy at Powell's, I knew it was time to read it already.

There isn't a single chapter of this novel that I didn't enjoy reading. Celie's narration, her letters to God, starts off short and swift; it reveals her limitations as an uneducated girl. She is a victim who gradually learns to stand up for herself. The novel is about how love and hate affect Celie's growth, and how other female figures in her life influence her to be a stronger woman amidst the world that oppresses her.

As a child Celie is raped by her father, with whom she births two children, who are later given up for adoption. Unlike her sister Nettie, she is deprived of the education that might have given her better opportunities in life. She is forced to marry Mr. ____, who is in love with Nettie and enjoys beating Celie for no reason. Later on his old mistress Shug Avery comes to stay with them. The two women became friends, and Shug helps Celie to learn to take care of herself.

Nettie serves as the secondary narrator during a portion of the novel. After leaving Cellie, she meets a couple who take her in as a nanny, and later takes her to Africa with them. In her narrative about Africa, Nettie explores the culture of the tribe with whom she lives, and learns that its gender inequality is much like that in American culture.

The most essential aspect of this novel is the relationships between the women. Other than those previously mentioned, there are also Sofia, Squeak, Corrine. These women are very different, and they each offers a different flavor to the story from another. The novel also explores how weak some men really are; they only use violence against women because it is the only way to make them feel superior. Walker does a marvelous job at exploring the connection between race and gender, and incorporating it flawlessly into this greatly entertaining and insightful novel. "The Color Purple," with its strength and ingeniousness, is a classic and a must-read.


***SPOILER ALERT***

Celie's father turns out to not be her real father. Celie and Shug later become lovers. Corrine and Samuel is the couple that takes Nettie in. They had adopted two children, who are Celie's children with her stepfather. Nettie realizes this right away, as the children look very much like her and her sister. Samuel notices the resemblance as well, and thinks that Nettie is the real mother who had come to take care of her children. In Africa, Corrine becomes jealous, thinking that the children had been Samuel and Nettie's. After she dies of the flu, Nettie and Samuel marries. The two sisters reunite in the end, and Celie's children their mother.

Raymond Carver's "What's in Alaska?"

Dying for some entertainment, I picked up my collection of short stories by Raymond Carver that I purchased a while back, and read a story called "What's in Alaska?" The story is about two couples, Jack and Mary, and Carl and Helen. Though short, it is filled with puzzles that beg us literary scholars/nerds to analyze. I don't know if I understand the story fully, but that is the beauty of it.

The story opens with Jack buying a new pair of shoes. After getting home his wife Mary remarks that she doesn't like the color but that it looks comfortable. This could be the symbolism for their marriage, or perhaps their lives in the place they currently reside. Mary later tells Jack that she had been interviewed and is likely to get a job in Alaska. Later that night they got together with their friends. While high on hookah, the same question keeps coming up without ever being answered: "What's in Alaska?"

Perhaps there is nothing in Alaska. The party seems concerns with what Jack is going to be doing in Alaska. Not once does anybody mention the fact that they are moving there because of Mary's job. There is also a slight hint of an adulterous desire between Carl and Mary--or perhaps it only seems so because we see it through Jack's gaze. The couple does not seem to be in a perfectly happy state, especially in comparison to their friends. There is also a curious remark by Carl: "Cindy's got to learn to hunt if we're going to Alaska." Earlier when Jack tells Carl and Helen the news, Carl and Helen seems resolved, either seriously or jokingly, that they will go to Alaska too. The relationship between these four are unclear; they seem to be close friends, but what is the degree of this closeness? Carver seems to consciously leave out these details. Perhaps he wants us to make for ourselves who these people are to each other.

Despite not getting the whole picture, I really enjoyed reading this story and thinking about it afterward. Carver is known as one of the best American short story writer, and this collection has never failed to deliver whenever I turn to it in need of inspiration.


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***SPOILER ALERT***

This story has a very interesting ending. Jack is about to turn out the light and go to sleep when he thinks he sees a set of eyes gleaming in the dark hallway, staring at him. He picks up one of his shoe and waits for whatever it is that watches him to move before throwing the shoe at it. It remains a mystery what this "thing" is. Prior to the scene, Mary and Jack have a peculiar conversation, tinted with anger and ambiguity. Mary wants something to smoke, and Jack tells her there is nothing. She asks for something to drink and he gives her a beer, not certain that she actually wants it. She then realizes she hasn't taken her pill, and after taking it she is too tired to even put the can of beer away herself. Following the relationship between these two closely all the way throughout the story will probably reveal more about the state of their relationship. They seem dysfunctional but try to keep themselves together for an unclear reason--perhaps it hasn't got to the point where they want to break it off yet. Maybe, like Jack's new shoes, the relationship works despite seeming imperfect.

David Hare's "Secret Rapture"

Every month I read at least one non-Shakespearean play. This month's play is David Hare's "Secret Rapture."

The play is about a family that has recently lost its father--the mother is long dead. Katherine, the father's new wife, an alcoholic good-for-nothing, falls into the hand of Isobel, the youngest daughter. Isobel feels the need to take care of other people's problems, while her sister Marion accuses her of being selfish and making others feel guilty. Since Katherine is unemployed, and since nobody would employ her, Isobel feels obligated to find her a job and let her live in her flat after the house is sold. However, Isobel's own resources are minimal, and having Katherine around not only affects her job but also her relationship with her boyfriend Irwin. The story is about how Isobel comes to terms with her own desires and does something for herself for once, and how the people around her reveal their selfishness in response to her actions.

I have only experienced few of Hare's works. A while back I read his plays "The Blue Room" and "The Judas Kiss," the latter I found particularly moving. The film "The Hours," whose script he adapted from Michael Cunningham's novel, is one of my most favorite films of all time. "The Secret Rapture" would be a good show to see; it is well structured and orchestrated. I don't find the work to be a literary masterpiece--as I find many of Arthur Miller's works, for example--but it is the kind of work that makes good theater. It is a good read.

Michael Chabon's "Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay"

It is no secret that I am a literary snob who reads almost exclusively the classics. Part of it is because I am an English major, hence the classics are my top priorities. It is also because I am rather slow, so reading new works would be time wasting when I should be reading something that contributes to my studies. That said, I do find some time every once in a while to read new works. When my friend Andy told me that I should read Michael Chabon's book about writing, I thought it might be better if I read Chabon's writing first--after all, why do I care what he has to say about writing when I don't even know what his writing is like? I decided to borrow "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay," which won the Pulitzer a while back and therefore justifiable in my snobbish mind.

Josef Kavalier, a teenage art student and a trained magician, escaped from the Holocaust in Germany to New York City where he meets his cousin Sam Clay and discovers American comic books. Sammy is amazed by Joe's artistic ability, and soon after the two collaborated on a superhero comic book, making for themselves money and fame. As the story progresses, Joe falls in love with Rosa Parks, who helps him to rescue his young brother from Germany. Meanwhile Sammy discovers his homosexual feeling for Tracy Bacon, a handsome radio actor. The rest of the story follows the decade-long adventures of the two cousins, full of humor and misfortunes.

This is a big novel, but it is carefully constructed and thoroughly entertaining. Chabon demonstrates his knowledge of the comic world--or, rather, his ability to do research. I was particularly taken by his attention to details (which I thought was a little redundant at times) and the way he seamlessly incorporates the information into a part of the characters. Another very intriguing aspect is the focus on homosocial relationships between Joe and Sammy, Joe and his father in law, Joe and his magic teacher, Sam and his editor (whose name I don't remember), etc. There are many male characters in this story, and their camaraderie takes precedence over their relationships with women. While the style is relatively masculine, Chabon also portrays the vulnerability in these men as they confront tragic moments in their lives. Even though he is not as tender as many of my favorite writers, I wouldn't consider him stiff either.

To conclude, it was a long but really good read.

Ray Bradbury's "Invisible Boy"

One of the best investments I have ever made in my life is buying a copy of "The Vintage Bradbury", which is a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury. It isn't because I got it at a book sale for a dollar, but because it is full of amazing stories that really show what a genius Bradbury really is. A lot of his stories fall somewhere between science fiction and magic realism (although I have never heard anybody consider him in the latter category), which aren't my favorite genres, but he writes them so well that I always find myself engaged in his stories.

I am halfway into the collection--I don't read it continually--and had just finished "The Invisible Boy", a story about an old woman who wants to adopt a boy against his will and ends up tricking him into believing that she has turned him invisible. I find it a little creepy and quite endearing. Most of the story is told in scenes--that is, dialogues between characters. He jumps right into the story, giving so much back story in so few words. Within a few pages and with very minimal narrations, we get to know exactly who these characters are. The plot isn't super complex or dense; the structure is linear, and there is a clear beginning, middle, and ending. This story is a perfect example of the kind of guidance that I need when I feel lost while figuring out how to write--period. It points out the obvious answers that I find so easy to forget for some reason.

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This is the part where I summarize the story for my own personal use. ***SPOILER ALERT***

The story resembles that of the fairy tale "The Emperor's New Clothes" in that the boy is tricked into believing that he has something that he doesn't--invisibility. The resemblance is most obvious when the boy, thinking that he is invisible, takes off his clothes and dances around. The old lady is creepy in nature, but she is also a pitiable character because she is lonely; her affection for the boy, as she claims, is of a mother to a son. The heart of the scene is in the end when the boy is gone and she pretends like he is there, invisible. The story could be read in a controversial view as the old lady could be a representation of a pedophile.