Books I Read April 13th, 2025

Back in Baltimore for a bit. Love the people you can, while you can.

India: A Portrait by Patrick French – An idiosyncratic depiction of modern India. Even 1,000 pages is obviously insufficient to touch upon so large a topic, and once might quibble with some of his priorities (there’s an awful lot of Indira Ghandi-related scuttlebutt) but basically this was thoughtful and engaging.

The Belle Creole by Maryse Conde – The acquitted murderer of middle-aged white woman becomes the thread that ties a decaying Guadeloupe in this vivid and insightful ensemble piece. The characters are well-realized and sympathetically drawn, I’ll check out something else by Conde.

Embers by Sandor Marai – The delayed reunion of two aged friends, drawn together by a terrible secret and the splendors of the dying Dual-Monarchy. I read this in college and loved it but can’t say I truly understood it. Not that it’s difficult, particularly, only that it took time and loss to fully appreciate this story of youth, love, and the eternal presentness of lost passion. Beautiful.  

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett – Another classic I hadn’t looked at for a long time, and still an absolute banger. Hammet’s economy of style is masterful, re-reading it I was struck by how closely he keeps his hand, you really don’t have any idea of Spade’s motivations until the final, masterful, denouement. Really enjoyed this.

Gorgias by Plato – ‘I don’t mind seeing a young lad take up philosophy; it seems perfectly appropriate. It shows an open mind, I think, whereas neglect of philosophy at this age signifies pettiness and condemns a man to a low estimation of his worth and potential. On the other hand, when I see an older man who hasn’t dropped philosophy, but is still practicing it, Socrates, I think it is he who deserves a thrashing…under these circumstances, even a naturally gifted person isn’t going to develop into a real man, because he’s avoiding the heart of his community and the thick of the agora, which are the places where, as Homer tells us, a man “earns distinction.” Instead he spends the rest of his life sunk out of sight, whispering in a corner with three or four young men, rather than giving open expression to important and significant ideas.’

Recoil by Jim Thompson – An ex-felon tries to free himself from the corrupt machinations of his supposed benefactor. One Thompson’s ‘nicer,’ which is to say lesser, works. Still, he remains one of the great noir writers of all time. No one did menace like Jim Thompson.  

Day of the Owl by Leonardo Sciascia – The only honest policeman in Sicily tries to solve a murder. Spare, tight, sincere, moral. Sciascia deserves his rep.  

The Insufferable Gaucho by Roberto Bolano – Masterpieces of short fiction. Police Rat, in particular, remains one of my all time favorite stories, something that resonates with me more even as a man than a writer.  

Books I Read April 6th, 2025

Read some real heat this week. Also made excellent apple butter, though that's not really germane to the following.

The Five Sorrowful Mysteries of Andy Africa by Stephen Buoro – A modern day Arturo Bandini in rural Nigerian grapples with the immense disconnect between his potential and the impoverished and violent reality which surrounds him. One of the interesting things about the headlong dive I've taken into African fiction in the last few months is that it's forced me to rely to a a far greater degree than normal on listicles and book awards, meaning that much of what I've read is clearly governed by literary trends, to a greater degree at least than my normal selection of obscure 70's east German novelettes. All of which is to say, do your best to ignore the title—I can say from personal experience that every editor alive seems to be pushing 'The Numbered Things of Namey McPersonson' on each new acquisition—this is an excellent, if uneven, debut novel, scathing in its honesty and intimacy, if marred a bit by an excess of tragedy in the narrative. I'll keep an eye out for the next thing.

Savage Seasons by Kettly Mars – A desperate mother in 60's Port-au-Prince makes a deal with the devil, selling herself to one of Duvalier's henchman in exchange for protection for her and her family. Masterful. This is some hot-hot-heat. Even anticipating the conclusion it is a thrilling and disturbing ride, as well as a profound exploration of the corrupting effects of dictatorship on society. Excellent. Really glad I stumbled across it.

Memoirs of a Porcupine by Alain Mabanckou – A familiar narrates the life of his demonic master in a nightmarish satire of native religious beliefs. The most fruitful method I've found of discovering new (to me) writers is to follow up closely anytime an unknown author is name-checked in a work I'm enjoying. Credit to Fiston Mwanza Mujila for introducing me to this masterful and disturbing work. This is my favorite sort of thing to read—a linguistically innovative but narratively coherent novel from an unfamiliar area exploring the complexity of a human reality which is largely foreign to me. Excellent.

Girls at War and Other Stories by Chinua Achebe – A selection of small masterpieces, encompassing charming rural fairy-tales and complex explorations of life in behind the Biafran blockade. Excellent.

Books I read March 30th, 2025

It could be worse.

This Present Darkness: A History of Nigerian Organized Crime by Stephen Ellis – Ignore the pulpy picture (and the back half of the title), this is a brief but remarkably informative history of modern Nigeria as viewed through the lens of public and private corruption. I'd come across the phenomena of shrine cults in some of Wole Soyinka'a more recent work, but had no idea the degree to which it seems endemic to Nigerian society.

The Other Name: Septology I-II by Jon Fosse – An old painter in a house in rural Norway, yes, isolated from society, yes, except for a few friends with similar names very closely narrates a day and a half in his life, yes, but without periods, no, one long run on sentence about driving places and making sandwiches and painting things and the horrifying beauty of human existence, yes, and God, oh yes, lots about God, and light, lots about light and about God, yes, and about life, yes, and identity yes, the blunt,sincere prose and rhythmic effects of which after several hundred pages is effective, yes, even evocative, although I am the sort of disappointed atheist who finds intelligent books about God to be comfort, yes, even though I can't ever really make myself believe that there is anything out there or even in here, yes, in the very tiny corners and the narrow spaces between things, no, where Fosse sees God I see nothing, not anything at all, no, but still yes it is nice to spend a few hours yes with someone who sees something else, something kinder, and can give that to you yes I'll read the next one

Digging Stars by Novuyo Rosa Tshuma – Afrofuturist campus fantasy.

Sojourn by Amit Chaudhuri – A man in a foreign city begins to lose track of his identity. Chaudhuri is an excellent writer, and this is small but well-crafted work.

The Free-Lance Pallbearers by Ishmael Reed – Reed's debut novel is a nightmarish, slapstick satire of 60's America, an impossibly surreal send-up of politics, history and racial relations. I really like Reed's early stuff, it's funny and horrifying..

Books I Read March 23, 2025

Read a bit this week.

Buried Beneath the Baobab Tree by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani and Viviana Mazza – The life of a girl in rural northern Nigeria is upended when her village is attacked by Boko Haram. Spare and terrible.

The Brothers' War: Biafra and Nigeria by John de St. Jorre – Had to jump through various hoops to attain a copy of this unfortunately out of print history of the Biafran civil war. Strange that a conflict which was so formative in the West's view of post-colonial Africa has gone so completely down the rabbit hole. Anyway, St. Jorre was a journalist and visited the breakaway Iboan republic, but manages to combine an on the ground view of the conflict with a nuanced take on the complex factors which caused and prolonged it.

The Villain's Dance by Fiston Mwanza Mujila – A selection of neer'do'wells try and make it big in the closing days of the Mobutu regime in this lively and sardonic novel. Mujila emigrated to Austria and there is more than a touch of Mitteleuropa in his bleak hedonism and chaotic enumerations (also he name checks Musil quite a lot). I've become quite a fan of Mujila after two books, his novels are sharp and strange and entirely concerned with themselves rather than pandering to the expectations of a Western audience.

Katanga 1960-63: Mercenaries, Spies and the African Nation that Waged War on the World by Christopher Othen – Congo's first post-colonial war as told in a narrative so compellingly snappy it makes me want to double check the sources. Which admittedly is a backhanded compliment and perhaps a bit unfair, particularly as I found this informative and engaging.

Larger Than Life by Dino Buzzati – A scientist and his wife become involved in a secret government project. I won't say more on the off chance you pick up this largely forgotten post-war Italian sci-fi novella, but it's got a good stiff kick at the end.

The Book of Not by Tsitsi Dangarembga – A precocious native girl matriculates at a mostly white Catholic school in war-torn Rhodesia. Dangarembga is a fine writer, with a sharp eye and a neat pen, but I found this overwhelmingly miserable, and not in the 'boy, war-torn Rhodesia was a shitty place to live' way, so much as a 'only bad things ever happen to this protagonist which undercuts the drama and starts to feel cloying' sort of way. Still, it's a good book and I'll be reading the sequel.

Zulu Zulu Golf: Two Years with KOEVOET by Arn Durand – The auto-biography of a reckless teenager who becomes embroiled in one of South Africa's many small wars throughout the continent. Interesting in an unhinged and amoral way.

Books I Read March 16th, 2025

Back on that reading grind.

Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi – Another fantastical multi-generational African epic, Ugandan this time. Always interesting to see how even the most 'literary' works tend to function within their own genre ghettos.

African Kings and Black Slaves by Herman L. Bennett – An argument for a revisionist view of early Atlantic slavery which better takes into account the complexities of political relations between the early Portuguese and Spanish slave-traders and the lords and chieftains of Africa's western seaboard. This ended up being a more scholarly work than I'd anticipated, meaning that a great deal of it was concerned with framing its position amid the current academic dialogue, rather than concerning itself with the actual historical interactions of the day. Also, that virtually every sentence could be edited for clarity. Still, it effectively (if somewhat repetitively) fulfills its aims, and it did leave me interested in learning more about pre-Colonial eastern Africa, if anyone's got any suggestions.

The Naked Civil Servant by Quentin Crisp – Mid-century London's preeminent homosexual gadfly narrates his life history in ridiculously sharp prose. In my review of this some seven years ago I wrote 'I was impressed with it in a way which makes me almost not want to praise the thing too highly, for fear that today’s exhilaration will give way to tomorrow’s regret,' but in fact I'm not sure I quite did I justice. Crisp is obscenely witty, every line is sharp and clever, his comically bitter self-focus makes for an engaging anti-hero. But there's also a genuine sense of the profound tragedy of the human condition, one sharpened by Crisp's adoption of a persona of permanent outcast. Perhaps I'm not the best judge but for my money this absolutely belongs in the top tier of queer literature.

Augustown by Kei Miller – History of a pre-Rastifari Pentecostal preacher twinned with a schoolyard tragedy in 80s underclass Jamaica. I read this book.

Books I Read March 9th, 2025

This week I was grateful for books. Not mine so much. Other peoples.

She Who Waits by Daniel Polansky – Quite candidly, I'd hoped it would be better. On the other hand, re-reading it did lead me to recognize a flaw in my writing style which I still sometimes do, so that was something. And I was like, 25 when I wrote it.

The Old Drift by Namwali Serpell – A surrealistic multi-generational re-telling of the modern history of the state of Zambia. As a sub genre, I kind of wish we'd let this die with Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I guess that's on me for picking it up.

A Shining by Jon Fosse – A man gets lost in the forest in another of Fosse's short, sharp fantasies. I enjoyed it but am looking forward to reading something of his that's a bit more substantial.

Africa's World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe by Gerard Prunier – An exhaustively research, compellingly intimate dissection of the Congolese war of (roughly) 96-02, the ethnic and political complexities of which make the dissolution of the Balkans look like the American Civil War. Prunier does an extraordinary job of walking us through the minutia of the conflict while offering what seems a genuinely even-handed insight into what started and prolonged the deadliest conflict since WW2, albeit one that was virtually completely ignored by the foreign press (a situation which, alas, continues in the region to this day). Excellent, if horrifying.

As an unrelated note, it's a source of constant annoyance to me how difficult it is to find works of popular history about Africa, or for that mater the third world, or for that matter the second world, or for that matter basically anything that isn't about Nazis or the founding fathers. Forty fucking books about the Normandy landings come out every year but heaven forbid I want to learn something about the Biafran conflict or say, post-Colonial North Africa.

Books I Read March 2nd, 2025

There is beauty in the failures we allow ourselves to live with.

Tomorrow, the Killing by Daniel Polansky – As a pretty iron clad rule, I do not re-read the things I've published (I get my masochistic thrills elsewhere), but for an upcoming project (and with great trepidation) I picked this up for the first time since I sent it off to the publisher some 13? 14 years ago? It was a fascinating if not altogether pleasant experience. Not shockingly, I had forgotten swathes of it, side characters and subplots, Easter eggs and personal references I stumbled upon with some joy. Largely, however, this was eclipsed by the predictable post-facto edits one desperately wishes one could inflict on the text. Anyway, is it good? It's OK. Some of the lines are strong and the plot moves swiftly. The nefarious plotting is pretty clever by the standards of noir and very clever by the standards of fantasy. I'd change most of the world-building and I'd cut most of the asides and I'd rewrite about half the dialogues. Also, it's mawkish and overly sentimental. So, yeah, mixed bag. I suspect most people who read it would enjoy it more than I did, but that might be self-deception.

House of Stone by Novuyo Rosa Tshuma – A rootless lodger usurps the family history of his surrogate family in this multi-generational novel of post-colonial Zimbabwe. An absolutely masterful debut, at once a disturbing work of genre fiction and an insightful exploration of how power shapes history and history identity. Very strong recommendation, Tshuma is a writer worth watching.

Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche – 'Supposing truth were a woman—what then?' Something else I haven't read in about 20 years, though I can't say what it was that brought me back. Lately I suppose I've just had more of a yen to test the works of my youth against the internal aesthetic barometer I've developed since. For once my present and past selves seem more or less in agreement. Few men have ever so fully explored the ramifications of subjectivity in the human experience. And he remains howlingly funny, rich with one-liners and brilliant asides. To whit...

'Men of profound sadness betray themselves when they are happy: they have a mode of seizing upon happiness as though they would choke and strangle it, out of jealousy—ah, they know only too well that it will flee them!'

'Books for the general reader are always ill-smelling books, the odor of paltry people clings to them. Where the populace eat and drink, and even where they reverence it is accustomed to stink.'

'Many a peacock hides his tail from every eye—and calls it pride.'

Downsides, he writes like an INCEL on a 'reddit forum thread', with this FRUSTRATING TENDENCY to capitalize words as means of emphasis and a 'penchant' for putting things in 'inverted commas' which CERTAINLY SEEMS 'arbitrary.' And, of course, for all the power and weight of his critiques, for all his ferocious and undeniable brilliance, the fact remains that pressed into service as any sort of prescriptive guide his views remain incoherent where they aren't fundamentally objectionable Still, it was fun to poke at this side of my brain again.

Books I Read February 23rd, 2025

There are reasons to despair. Best try and ignore them.

Nightsongs by Jon Fosse – A newborn causes problems in a marriage. Fosse uses simple language and repetition to powerful lyrical effect. Looking forward to reading something from him of more substance.

Caligula by Suetonius – Is making your horse a consul really any worse than making Elon Musk head of DOGE? May a similar end befall our Imperial idiot..

Tram 83 by Fiston Mwanza Mujila – A pair of frenemies struggle to survive in a surrealist Kinshasa. Vibrant, clever, and funny, Mujila's vision is at once apocalyptic and joyful, relishing the anarchic energy of his hometown while lamenting it's poverty, violence and despair. Strong stuff.

The Spirit of Science Fiction by Roberto Bolano – A pair of teenagers journey about a nighttime Mexico City, obsessively discuss genre fiction and poetry, fall in love with girls. Similar territory to Savage Detectives but since I love Savage Detectives this didn't bother me. I always have time for Bolano's alternatively horrifying and exhilarating depiction of youth, particularly as I age. Also a lot of fun to see Bolano name check North American fantasists; I laughed aloud at one long segment in which one character spoils the plot of a Gene Wolfe story—two of my all time favorite writers coming together on the page.

Books I Read February 16th 2025

In the unlikely event that anyone reading this page voted for Donald Trump, know that you have my abiding acontempt.

In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan – A surreal 60s fable. Slender, odd, fun. Reminded me a bit of John Crowley's Engine Summer but with a lot less world building.

Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga – A young girl in rural Zimbabwe struggles against the corruption of native society by the stricture of colonial thought. Despairing but well-observed.

The Embarrassment of Riches: An Interpretation of Dutch Culture in the Golden Age by Simon Schama – Schama's magisterial cultural history of the Dutch's brief reign as European superpower and how it helped formed modernity. Longtime readers will know of my affection for William the Silent, for the besieged at Breda and the stolid burghers who threw down the might of the Western Hapsburgs. Those who lack this peculiar affinity may find less of interest in this long, dense volume but it remains an admirable attempt to retrace the opinions and thought processes of a vanished people.

Wizard of the Crow by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o – An everyman turned shaman inadvertently sets himself against a corrupt dictator. Engaging if didactic.

On My Aunt's Shallow Grave White Roses Have Already Bloomed by Maria Mitsoara – Esoteric micro-fiction of the erotic and faintly ominous variety. I dug it.

The Story of the Jews: Finding the Words, 1000 BCE – 1492 CE by Simon Schama – An idiosyncratic history of the Jewish people from their entry into Israel to their exile from Iberia. I remain endlessly fascinated by the peregrinations of my ancestors, and of the world-sustaining fantasy they built.

Morning and Evening by Jon Fosse – The life and death of a Norwegian fisherman as told in a hundred glittering pages. The prose is rapid and lovely.

The Joys of Motherhood by Buchi Emecheta – The profound misery of being a woman in late-colonial Nigeria, lucidly expressed. Shades of Doris Lessing in the utterly unromantic depictions of motherhood.

The Left Handed Woman by Peter Handke – A woman arrives at an arbitrary-seeming decision to end her marriage, grows because of it. Of a type, but brief.

Books I Read January 17th

And look, the LORD is about to pass over, with a great and strong wind tearing apart mountains and smashing rocks before the LORD. Not in the wind is the LORD. And after the wind an earthquake. Not in the earthquake is the LORD. And after the earthquake—fire. Not in the fire is the LORD. And after the fire, a sound of minute stillness.

I hope you’re safe.

Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold – I read this book.

Erasmus of Rotterdam by Stefan Zweig – A hagiography to the early enlightenment's most cosmopolitan thinker. Zweig's fuzzy, exaggerated enthusiasm is such that I managed to read 300 pages on Erasmus of Rotterdam without actually learning very much about Erasmus of Rotterdam. Which is unfortunate, because that was really my motivation behind getting this out of the library.

Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets: Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings: A Translation with Commentary by Robert Alter – Still holds up.

Equal Danger by Leonardo Sciascia – An upright investigator squares off against a corrupt society in this brief gut punch of a novel. Sciascia is the Italian Manchette. Or is Manchette the French Sciascia?

Books I Read January 3rd, 2025

Happy New Year. Between working in a kitchen and a lot of other stuff, 2024 was not really a banner year for reading, nor for keeping this blog updated. Hopefully 2025 will prove better. I know you're all out there just clamoring for my thoughts. In any event, the below make up the remnants of last year’s meager literary feast.

Pen, Sword, Camisole by Jorge Amado – The internecine machinations of a cadre of elderly liberal Brazilian academicians, celebrating the power of art (or at least, artists) to oppose fascism. Fun but slight.

Diary of a Man in Despair by Friedruch Reck – The wide-ranging journal of a principled conservative's existence beneath the Third Reich, Reck's bitter, brilliant lamentation for a nation and world gone mad remains as insightful as it was the last time Trump was elected. The sense of alienation and futility will resonate with any thoughtful reader, as will Reck's general critique of modernity, which only seems more prescient with the day. Everyone should pick this up.

Sourdough Culture: A History of Bread Making from Ancient to Modern Bakers Eric Pallant – A breezy history of the use of wild yeast in bread baking. Probably would have worked better as a long article.

Backroom Boys: The Secret Return of the British Boffin by Francis Spufford – The history of post-war British industry as told in a series of technological innovations emblematic of the (sometimes self-defeating) British genius. As in Red Plenty, I admire Spufford's ability to weave a vivid narrative out of obtuse subject matter.

The Gods of Gotham by Lyndsay Faye – Manhattan's first detective investigates a mass grave of children, explores mid 19th-century New York.

The Silence of the Choir by Mohammad Mbougar Sarr – A small Sicilian town struggles to accommodate a group of African refugees. I found it overly neat.

From Peoples into Nations: A History of Eastern Europe by John Connelly – A history of modern mitteleuropa, from Joseph II to Ceausescu. Obviously there's an enormous amount of material but Connelly does an excellent job of navigating several centuries of ethnic and political strife. A surprisingly readable 800 pages.

A Nervous Splendor: Vienna 1888-1889 by Frederic Morton – Vienna descends into modernity in Morton's exquisitely detailed, compellingly readable cultural history of a dying dual monarchy. An old favorite of mine, worth the re-read.

Bosworth Field and the Wars of the Roses by A.L. Rowse – A brisk record of internecine Anglo slaughter. As a rule I find medieval history somewhat interminable, but Rowse does a good job of detailing the cast of characters and keeping the action moving.

Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution by Simon Schama – I spent a fair bit of the holidays sitting beside a Christmas tree, drinking coffee and tearing through Schama's magisterial history of a nation tearing itself to pieces in spasms of madness. Schama has a rare gift for combining the larger sweep of human history with a keen eye for the diverse historical personalities populating his pages. Lots of fun.

Books I Read October 15th, 2024

Fight on, dear friend. Fight on.

Bears Discover Fire by Terry Bisson – Speculative fiction more in the Etgar Keret line than Fritz Leiber, impossible things happening outside of traditional genre norms. Interesting to me that this was so well regarded within the fantasy/sci-fi space at one point – alas, it falls pretty far outside of it these days. Anyway, clever and funny and sad. Good stuff.

My Death by Lisa Tuttle – A widow attempts to write the biography of a her favorite forgotten writer. Strange things ensue. More anti-genre genre fiction. Good stuff.

Special Envoy: A Spy Novel by Jean Echnoz – It isn't really. A spy novel, I mean, more a comedy with some light genre flourishes. There is a plot but it almost seems pointless describing it, thin cover for a lot of sexual politicking and funny asides. Light but enjoyable.

Goodnight Tokyo by Atsuhiro Yoshida – Speaking of genres, there really ought to be a short hand for that form of Japanese literature populated entirely by quirky Edoites visiting esoteric tea shops and all night diners, engaging in whistful, semi-mystical dialogues – that way I could stay the hell way from it. This is sub-Murakami shlock, without a recognizable human figure to be found.

Books I Read August 31st, 2024

Spent the last few weeks wandering around England, France, drinking tea and eating cheese, respectively. Came back to find my house was not burnt down, nothing to take for granted here in LA in 2024.

Grimus by Salman Rushdie – An immortal Indian seeks death, purpose in this surrealistic sci-fi. I admire Rushdie's willingness to straddle genres, but I can't say this did a heck ton for me other than that.

City of the Living by Nicola Lagioia – True crime overview of two Roman neer-do-wells committing a Leopold and Loeb. Overwrought, even (especially) given the seriousness of the subject matter.

Playing for Thrills by Shuo Wang – A hooligan tries to solve the mystery of whether he killed his friend in a drunken weekend a decade past. Reminded me of Bolano in its focus on the down and out and the constant, ominous presence of memory.

The Skating Rink by Roberto Bolano – A lovesick little person builds a castle for his dream woman. Also, a murder. One of Bolano's many minor masterpieces, at once compulsively readable and heavy with esoteric weight.

Red Pyramid by Vladamir Sorokin – Short fiction by Russia's most outre fantasist. I enjoyed Sorokin's novels but found this too vile even for my jaded tastes.

The Siege of Loyalty House: A Civil War Story by Jessie Childs – It is always an odd marvel to me how little even educated Englishfolk know about their own history. Their civil war is largely a lacunae for most of the anglos I speak to, and the Glorious Revolution fails to elicit more than an eye blink. I mean we're dumb as shit too, don't get me wrong. God knows I've got no delusions about the quality of my countrymen. Anyway, this was a perfectly readable few hundred pages, the kind of on the ground history that I find both enjoyable and enlightening.

Swords Against Wizardry by Fritz Leiber – Heroic analogs for Leiber and his goy best friend wander around a magical New York, drink heavily, make poor romantic decisions. Would it shock anyone to discover these were inspiration for City Dreaming?

Books I Read August 6th, 2024

It's hot here, but still nicer than where you are. Probably. If not I'm slightly jealous.

The Double Death of Quincas Water-Bray by Jorge Amado – A cast of Salvadorean neer'do'wells play Weekend at Bernie's with the corpse of their beloved bourgeois turned drunkard king. Sort of a companion piece to last week's Tortilla Flats. I really like Jorge Amado, this is a joyful little novella.

The Sunlight Dialogues by John Gardner – The return of a madman/genius/hippie/prodigal son to a town in rural New York leads to chaos, lots of monologues. It's probably my fault for picking up a 700 page work of philosophical fiction written by a largely forgotten mid-century novelist, but this didn't do a lot for me. I think even if I'd been more inclined to towards its general genre I wouldn't have been a huge fan of this, which was rambly and didn't really come together.

The Discovery of America By the Turks by Jorge Amado – A significantly bawdier take on Taming of the Shrew, another slight and vulgar delight by the grand old man of Brazilian letters.

Books I Read July 29th, 20024

Books and books and books.

The Mongolian Conspiracy by Rafael Bernal – An aging killer for the Mexican government finds himself entangled in international intrigue above his pay grade in what I gather is a classic of Mexican noir. Violent and well-written, though it isn't anything you won't have read before.

The Flander's Road Claude Simon – There was a thing that he did (the writer, the one in the laundromat, the one doing his laundry) which was when he (the writer) was writing a review for a book that he (the writer, or I should say the reader) had read that week, and it (the book) was written in the peculiar, orotund, overflowing, exhausting style of say a Claude Simon (or of a William Faulkner, or of a Proust), he (the writer) would write the review in a similar style, which is to say, without using a proper period for a hundred or five hundred or perhaps even a thousand words (not that he counted them one by one (he being the writer), often eschewing entirely the details of the plot which, if we are to be honest, in this sort of book, generally are not the relevant point but oh well why not try it a cuckolded cavalry officer in WWII dies in a suicidal charge on a Panzer, has his history dissected by three of his soldiers over the course of the next several days, weeks, years, dissected in the same identical, interminable, inexhaustible style, which, let's be fair, he (the writer) knew what he was getting into when he picked this book up, he (the reader) had read Claude Simon before (not to mention Faulkner and Proust) and even enjoyed him (Claude Simon) on occasion but he (the reader) confesses to finding this particular book (Flander's Road) to be a little bit weak sauce, if we're going to be absolutely honest (and why not be?) even though it (the book) has a fascinating backstory in so far as the writer (Claude Simon) was a cavalryman during France's disastrous WWII retreat, and thus was drawing from personal experience in his depiction of the blood and mud and filth ridden eponymous road. Still, it ain't Absalom, Absalom.

Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck – A crew of drunkards and ne'er do wells find adventure, immortal fame in this tragic and peculiar re-telling of the Arthur myth. A favorite of mine from when I was about fifteen, sweet and sad and wistful. Like if Sutree wasn't miserable.

Act of Passion by Simenon – Another of Simenon's desperate bourgeois discovers the true meaning of love in leaving his family, murder. Shades of Jim Thompson in the intersection of sex and savagery, another of Simenon's innumerable minor masterpieces.

Books I Read July 21st 2024

This week I made a pretty solid semifreddo. I did some other things as well but that's the only one I feel comfortable telling internet strangers. Oh, I also read the following books.

Cooking for Kings: The Life of Antonin Carême, the First Celebrity Chef by Ian Kelly – The title pretty much sums it up. It was quick and reasonably engaging.

Red Plenty by Francis Spufford – An ensemble cast scientists, technicians, politicians, and fixers tell the story of the Soviet Union's high point, an idyll in the early 60's where it seemed as if Marx's hopes for a post-capitalist society bereft of want or cruelty might come to fruition. I admired Spufford's ability to turn a theoretically obtuse economic issue into an engaging work of fiction.

The Madman of Bergerac by Simenon – One of Maigret's more antisemitic adventures.

Every Tongue Got to Confess by Zora Neal Hurston – A collection of postbellum African American stories, jokes and folklore. Abstractly fascinating for what it details about the post-reconstruction South, if not actually that interesting line by line.

The Rouge of the North by Eileen Chang – A beautiful, lower class woman is turned into a dragon lady by the stultifying atmosphere of pre-revolution upper class Shanghai. Another of Chang's sharp, insightful works of fiction. A real talent.

Books I Read July 15th

I got rhymes like dimes, except the rhymes are books that I read this week.

Marshlands and Prometheus Unbound by Andre Gide – Absurdist explorations of the pretensions of artists. I found the first of these charming and the second kind of impenetrable.

Jimmy the King: Murder, Vice, and the Reign of a Dirty Cop by Gus Garcia-Roberts – The decades long rise and rapid fall of Long Island's most corrupt police officer (although perhaps only by a slim margin.) A disturbing exploration of how easily justice is miscarried in our country.

Only You Can Save Mankind by Terry Pratchett – Gamer turns pacifist in this distinctly odd work by genre's most beloved humorist. Prescient in its depiction of war as entertainment, sort of like if J.G. Ballard wrote a work of YA.

Rene Leys by Victor Segalen – A narcissistic writer in pre-revolution Peking is enchanted by the dubious claims of a youthful fixer. A charming and thoughtful rumination on the limitations of genuine cultural exchange, objective truth. I dug it.

Books I Read July 9th

Generally speaking, life is better the more I'm able to make myself read.

Written on Water by Eileen Chang – Youthful, scattershot contemplations by the doyen of mid-century Anglo-Chinese fictions. As a rule I tend to find writing about writing really boring, so some of the critical essays left me cold, but I enjoyed the surprisingly neutral recollections of Chang's nightmarish childhood, as well as all the stuff about fashion.

Of what one cannot speak, one ought remain silent.

Murder in Memoriam – Two murders twenty years apart set a police inspector to investigate the dark corners of France's history. Second-rate Manchette.

A Chance Meeting : Intertwined Lives of American Writers and Artists, 1854-1967 by Rachel Cohen – The (actually, generally planned) encounters of major American figures used as a vehicle for examining the history of American letters. A clever premise executed with insight and clarity.

Broken April by Ismail Kadare – The loosely interlinked stoies of a doomed killer and an urban writer express the complexities of the rural Albanian blood feud, the relationship between an artist and their subject. Or, as Nietzsche said – “It is always as it was between Achilles and Homer: one person has the experience, the sensation, the other describes it.” I actually picked this up prior to the Nobel laureate's recent passing, and it did not disappoint.

True Stories: And Other Essays by Francis Spufford – Erudite idiosyncratic essays from a cultural observer of rare empathy and sincerity. I liked the ones on science fiction the best.

Books I Read June 30th

For the first time in what seems like years, I met my weekly book quota. Not last week—last week I was lazy. This week. Anyway.

Dreamsnake by Vonda N. McIntyre – A healer searches for love, a new snake in a ruined future earth. One of those books in which the post-apocalypse looks like a kind of idealized vision of 60s counterculture (see also: Dhalgren, Engine Summer). I wanted it to be weirder.

Beyond the Door of No Return by David Diope – A pre-revolutionary French academicist reflects o n a youthful sojourn in Senegal, the ills of slavery.

The Possessed by Witold Gombrowicz – A Polish pastich (?) of the Gothic novel. Beware the minor works of great writers.

The Army of Flanders and the Spanish Road, 1567-1659: The Logistics of Spanish Victory and Defeat in the Low Countries' Wars by Geoffrey Parker – Heralded as marking the birth of new military history, Parker's study reviews the history of the 80 Year War entirely in economic/material terms, eschewing tactics and personalities almost entirely. I have a weird thing about the Wars of Religion, but even if you didn't I think there's something fascinating about reading something which forces one to consider the infinite complexities of human existence, that behind the siege of Breda or the Battle of Rocroi were hundreds of sutlers waiting to turn carrion scavenge into specie.

Books I Read June 17th, 2024

Time passes—did you hear?

The Crooked Man by Philip Davison – A low ranking MI6 stringer gets embroiled in some nefarious deeds above his pay grade, is forced to consider the moral ramifications of doing evil things for the government.

Light Perpetual by Francis Spufford – Five lives unlived. A marvelous meditation on the complexities of the human experience by a writer with a rare gift for prose and thought. One hesitates to use the word luminous given the title but it is appropriate. I really loved this. There are few things I find myself more grateful for than an optimistic work of art.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald – Haven't touched this in going on two and a half decades, but picking it up again it remains a marvelous and insightful text. Past 40 and I'm still beating my way against the current, alas. Also, fascinating homosexual subplot that somehow most people miss even though it's obvious and indisputable. I remember seeing someone had labeled a recent book 'the queer Great Gatsby' and I remember thinking 'that's just called The Great Gatsby.'

The Gutter and the Grave by Ed McBain – The kind of classic men's noir in which every female character gets a paragraph long description of their breasts.

A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia and Other Stories by Victor Pelevin – Surrealist post-Soviet shorts. Weird and impossible and thoroughly enjoyable.

The Enormous Room by e.e. Cummings – Cummings's slightly fictionalized depiction of the time he spent in a French internment camp for writing scathing things about the allies in private letters. A lot of this is enjoyable and a lot of it is really elaborate descriptions of the physical properties of the people he met in prison and I was kind of lukewarm on the thing as a whole.

Greek Lessons by Han Kang – Gnomic East-Asian literature. Reminded me of Yuko Tsushima, and not in a way I entirely loved.