Books I Read November 21st, 2021

I finally managed to sit my ass down and read a few books this week, so bully for me. They were;

The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett – Actually I read this a month ago and somehow forgot to write anything about it, which is strange because I found this affectionate recreation of a fishing village in turn of the century Maine a genuinely charming idyll. A series of interconnected character studies offer an evocative and wistful view of a pre-modern world already fading from view, affectionate without being cloying. Lovely.

In the Freud Archives by Janet Malcolm – At a brisk 200 pages I found it impossible to avoid enjoying this engaging depiction of a scholarly feud between several Freud obsessives.

Rise and Kill First: The Secret History of Israel's Targeted Assassinations by Ronen Bergman – This history of the modern state of Israel as depicted through its extra-judicial killings, often as told by the people executing them. A riveting depiction of spycraft at its most savage, and the inevitable moral decline resulting thereof.

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie – A pair of teenage boys are exiled into rural China during the Cultural Revolution, find a cache of Western novels, have misadventures with the eponymous tailor. Lyrical and unexpected, elegiac and strange and meaner than I anticipated. Fun stuff.

Inspector Ali by Driss Chraibi – An returned-expatriate Moroccan writer of genre fiction grapples with his place in society and his role as an author. Sort of like if Saul Bellow was Moroccan and less pretentious and Herzog was 200 pages rather than 500. Madcap and meandering in the best sort of way, Chraibi deserves rediscovery.

Books I Read November 14th, 2021

I wrote this story. I read these books.

Strong as Death is Love by Robert Alter – Alter continues his magnificent translation of the Old Testament with this scattershot selection of scripture that doesn't fit in any of the broader biblical categories – erotic poetry and fairy tale satire. It's an ongoing source of fascination what the Jews decided to keep in this book, and Song of Songs is genuinely beautiful.

The Bar on the Seine – 63 in the 178 Maigret books. Those numbers are fictional but the impact they convey is accurate, both in so far as these are all kind of the same and I enjoy them enough to keep going.

The Book of Psalms by Robert Alter – I confess that Psalms was the least engaging part of my Old Testament readings. What you see – endless lines of praise and worship – are kinda what you get, there's less of the dawning sense of genius that I've got from other parts of the corpus. Still, there was something in the constant repetitions of desperation and despair that struck a note three millennium on, the hope of a caring God and a just universe, noble and recognizable if sadly untrue.

Cold Snap by Thom Jones – Literally 3/4 of these are about a doctor working in Africa who's really seen some shit, man, and so what if he has to cope with the occasional ampule of morphine, if you'd been forced to grapple with the raw wound of human existence you'd be doing the same, not that you'd ever have the courage of a man like that, or of men who write about men like that.

To be clear these are not the same character, just the only character that Thom Jones likes to write.

The Stone Face by William Gardner Smith – An African American artist moves to Paris in the Chester Himes / James Baldwin days, grapples with the universality of bigotry and the struggle to oppose hate. Thoughtful and energetic.

The Double Mother by Michael Bussi – A young child holds the key to a violent crime. Engagingly if predictably batshit.

Books I Read October 10th, 2021

What can I tell you man, it's been a busy couple of weeks. Been doing things and driving places and seeing people and whatnot. Been writing about things. Been cooking a lot, but that isn't much use to you. One thing I basically haven't been doing is reading, which I'm a little ashamed of but fuck it man gimme a break.

The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie – A sprawling, chaotic, almost vertiginous novel about men and women, god and the devil, the East and the West, basically everything. Reminded me a bit of Pynchon with the madcap pacing and the large cast of semi-fantastical characters, though I found Rushdie's underlying humanity warmer and more profound than Pynchon's shrill anti-technocratic obsessions. Complex and entertaining, a rare book worth its reputation.

Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets: Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings: A Translation with Commentary by Robert Alter – 'Go and stand on the mountain before the LORD, 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 is 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.'

Books I Read September 19th, 2021

Autumn is slowly arriving in LA—yes we have autumn, seasons are different all over the world you halfwit parochial bastard. Would you fucking someone in Delhi that monsoon season isn't a thing? Eat shit. Anyway it's getting darker here earlier and there's this nice little crispness in the air which reminds me of all the other times the air has been crisp in my life, you know how memory does. Anyway I read these books the last two weeks.

Names on the Land by George R. Steward – A history of North American place names. Framing the settling of the continent along these lines offers a fascinating insight into how humans think about land, ownership and community, and a lot of the throw away stories are entertaining in their own right. It drags a bit after Manifest Destiny wraps up but you can't really blame it for that.

The Heat's On by Chester Himes – Saw this on a stoop and figured I'd take any opportunity to re-read part of Hime's magnificent decalogue chronicling the investigations of two black detectives responsible for keeping peace in Harlem. As always, Himes' swirling panorama of black New York is more interesting than the actual investigation but that's more advertisement than knock.

A Chill in the Air: An Italian War Diary 1939–1940 by Iris Origo – An American ex-pat chronicles the approach of WWII from her peculiar position as madam of a farm in rural southern Italy. It made me want to read the one she's more famous for writing, so I guess that's a rec.

The David Story translated by Robert Alter – I was largely unfamiliar with Samuel and found reading Alter's once again magnificent translation to be an enormously engaging and valuable experience (and during holy week, no less!) The attempts of the ancient Israelites to reconcile the brutal realities of existence with their dream of a theodical world are potent and fascinating, and as you begin to grasp it (aided by Alter's notes) the style of the narrative becomes engrossing. I liked this so much I'm thinking about breaking down and buying the complete text, which is excessively unlike me these days.

Inspector Cadaver by Simenon – Detective Maigret something something something. The plots of these are kind of pointless but it does have that charming feel of a good sitcom where you're hanging out with a dude you like, even if that dude in this case is an phlegmatic Parisian pipe-smoking giant.

Talk by Linda Rosenkrantz – In the early 60s Linda Rosenkrantz went to the Hamptons and recorded her friends saying things and then worked them into this narrative. It's a clever idea and makes for an interesting and entertaining read. My main takeaways are 1) it's crazy that people ever took Freudian analysis seriously, I mean more appalling than crazy really, and 2) Linda Rosenkrantz knew some shallow fucking people.

Brotherhood by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr – Citizens of a fictionalized West African city start a revolutionary journal in opposition to the occupying Islamist regime. Uneven but valuable.

Books I Read September 5th, 2021

Though the world grows daily more terrible our means of combating the decay remain unchanged—small acts of compassion and creation; courage, especially when pointless; the strength to find joy amid the growing shadow; the slow and almost imperceptible accumulation of wisdom. They are blunt weapons by which to contend against apocalypse, but as they are all we have we had best hold them tight. I read the following books the last two weeks.

Motley Stones by Adalbert Stifter – A collection of vignettes in the bucolic, Teutonic mold, vivid descriptions of the alps and the soaring emotion of the human heart. For the sort of book I usually don't like I didn't mind this. Also, best name ever.

Amsterdam Stories by Nescio – Another old favorite. For my money, not many people ever did youthful longing as well as Nescio. Potent enough that even though it's like 100 pages it took me forever to finish because I kept finding myself getting midway through a sentence, sighing wistfully and staring off into the distance.

The Immortals by Amit Chaudhuri – The relationship between the son of a wealthy industrialist and his music teacher in 1980's Bombay offer opportunity to ruminate on the disconnect between the reality and idealization of the artist. Sharp writing and I found the insight into traditional Indian music fascinating.

The Five Books of Moses by God (trans. Robert Alter) – Continuing my journey through Alter's translation of the Old Testament. It's been a long time since I read through the adventures of the Patriarchs and I was struck by the efforts of the ancient Hebrews to reconcile the dichotomy between the savage world in which they live and the moral framework which they desperately wish undergirded human reality. Later generations found themselves appalled by the veneration of heroic figures who are often dishonest, drunken leches, but to my mind there's a courage in enshrining into the founding myths the essential facts of our own complex and often unsavory natures—this is what we sprung from, this is what the very best of us look like. The endless contradictions of the Old Testament, even down to character and place names, reflect a world as chaotic, tragic and unknowable as that which we find ourselves facing. Good stuff, though I'll admit I skimmed the genealogies. Quick postscript – probably someone has suggested that the point of God interrupting the Exodus narrative with an elaborate description of the Tabernacle is to inspire in the reader the same sort of boredom which will, in part, drive Aaron and the Israelites to built their infamous calf in the next section?

Earthlings by Sayaka Murata – A social misfit attempts to escape the social and practical demands of Japanese society through the elaborate fantasy (?) that she is an extraterrestrial. Quick, effective, weird, but I confess to feeling that the territory is pretty well-mined.

The Outcast by Selma Lagerloff – A fantastical Christian romance which didn't do a lot for me. I think maybe this project of re-reading Ms. Lagerloff has come to an end.

Maigret in New York by Simenon – I mean I couldn't really be bothered to follow the actual plot but it's fun to watch Maigret ramble around Manhattan bitching about things.

The Stalin Front by Gert Ledig – The collapse of a German salient on the Eastern Front as depicted through the individual actions of a handful of participants. This is every bit as grim as you can imagine, with Ledig's WWII experience offering both an endless ream of horrifying detail and insight into the pitilessly miserable nature of the experience. Bleak, excellent.

Books I Read August 23, 2021

Since getting back to LA it's been a lot of work on a lot of projects and I haven't been reading like I oughta. Which, frankly, I feel bad enough about already so maybe don't yell at me. I read these few books the last few weeks.

Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth – A team of environmentalists try and heist some chickens.

Ghost Story by Peter Straub – Still for my money one of the best works of modern horror, and obviously an inspiration for like 2/3 of King's ouvre.

Skylark by Dezső Kosztolányi – When a middle aged spinster takes a vacation from the provincial Dual Monarchy city in which she lives her reactionary parents re-discover their zest for life.

The Ten Thousand Things by Maria Dermout – A profoundly beautiful elegiac to a lost world and the inevitable if eternally horrifying nature of time and death. I read and loved this book years and years ago when I was leaving New York and am pleased to find it held up.

The Queens of Kungahalla by Selma Lagerlof – The first female Nobel prize winner for literature tries to make sense of the Christianization of Scandinavian. Lyrical and odd if occasionally a bit preachy.

The Gravedigger's Bread by Frederick Dark – A guy falls in love with a girl, kills her husband, pays for it, in this well-executed if unremarkable French noir.

Muhammad by Maxime Rodinson – A biography of the prophet. My knowledge of early Islamic history is spotty so this was a good primer.

The Longshot by Katie Kitamura – A mixed martial artist gears up for his last fight.

Little, Big by John Crowley – One of the top 5 all time works of fantasy.

Berlingeles by Stefan Kiesbye — Tales from a post-apocalyptic LA. I dug it, Kiesbye has some nastiness to him and some feel for LA as a place.

Books I Read July 4th, 2021

It's just been a complete bullshit month as far as reading is concerned. I don't even know why, really, because I was on the beach a lot and normally that's prime reading time. I even had a long plane ride where I didn't read a book. It's been weird. Anyway, I'm back in LA now though and I'll have to apply the spurs. These are the tiny, tiny number of books I read since whenever.

The Devil's Mode by Anthony Burgess – Short historical fiction from the author of Clockwork Orange. I didn't love and it don't remember much from it.

The Belgariad by David Eddings – A beloved childhood high fantasy that I re-read for a thing I'm writing. They are terrible.

The Word of the Speechless: Selected Stories by Julio Ramon Riberyo – A collection of short fiction from whom I gather to be the grandmaster of Peruvian letters? If my understanding is accurate his position isn't unearned. These are strong and wandering and weird, unified in their themes of quiet regret, as well and the use of laconically effective language, but distinct in terms of the individual plots and even some of the genres. Quite enjoyed.

Books I Read June 13, 2021

Spent the first half of the week taking very long walks around New York. Turns out Coney is still tacky, the Malaysian beef jerky place on the LES is still great, and it's still impossible to walk through central Brooklyn for more than an hour without seeing Maggie Gyllenhall. The second half of the week has mostly been spent throwing children in the air and cooking/eating food. Point being I've been lazy and haven't read as much as I'd like, alas.

Valentino and Sagittarius by Natalia Ginzburg – Two novellas about Ms. Ginzburg's shitty, selfish, stupid family. Actually these were lovely, she's a great talent.

The Girl with All the Gifts by M.R. Carey – A young girl breaks out of the world's shittiest elementary school. I’ll avoid writing anything else for fear of spoiling a fun reveal, but this is creepy and emotional, a weird and original take on an overworked genre, strong stuff.

There Once Lived a Girl Who Seduced Her Sister's Husband, and He Hanged Himself: Love Stories by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya – A series of short about untrue men, heartbroken women, Russia, and the occasional murder. Petrushevskaya's stories all waver on a knife's edge between romance and outright horror, and often its unclear until the last sentence which direction they'll tip in. I very much enjoyed reading this on a bench in Brighton Beach while watching elderly Slavs sun themselves like beached albino seals.

I Await the Devil's Coming by Mary Maclane – The journalings of a precocious proto-feminist in Montana in the early 20th century. Interesting as a found document but basically this read like having to listen to that chick in your Freshman seminar who just won't shut the fuck up about Ayn Rand rant for 200 pages. People without a sense of humor should not be allowed to read Nietzsche.

The Wisdom Books by Robert Alter – For my birthday a dear friend (and the only person – Goy or Gentile -- I ever met who taught himself Yiddish) bought me this translation of my two favorite books of the Old Testament (plus Proverbs which is kind of crap). As always, reading Job and Ecclesiastes I am struck by the willingness of the Jews to incorporate into their tradition texts which run essentially counter to the main elements of the rest of the religion. This translation was beautiful, and the footnotes offered new insights into works I have read quite literally dozens of times—even if he uses 'vigor' in place of 'black hair', which is one of my favorite biblical allusions.

'Light is sweet, and it is good for eyes to see the sun!' I do try and remember, I swear.

Your House is on Fire, Your Children Are All Gone by Stefan Kiesbye – The horrifying recollections of a group of youth growing up in a small town in Northern Germany (which, if you haven't been north of Bremen, is a stark and nightmarish landscape). Something like if Patrick Modiano met Stephen King, although honestly I kinda think that undersells it. Understated and horrifying, with a hell of a last sting.

Poems of the Late T'Ang translated by A.C. Graham –

'The danger of the road is not in the distance

Ten yards is enough to break a wheel.

The peril of love is not in loving too often,

A single evening can leave its wound in the soul.'

Day of the Oprichnik by Vladamir Sorokin – In a future Russia which resembles a past Russia, government sponsored hoodlums commit a series of bleakly comic horrors in their efforts to defend the motherland. Sorokin's sci-fi satire is as sly and original as ever. Funny and extremely mean.

Books I Read June 2nd, 2021

Spent the last few week sunning myself on hidden Cornish beaches, taking long London walks and rambling briefly out to Oxford, and not reading or writing so much, which is why I'm behind on this and not up to my usual standards. I plan to make up for it this week, which will be spent revisiting Brooklyn haunts, taking ferociously long treks out towards strange side corners of a city I once loved (and even wrote a book about). In any event, these are the books I read since the last entry.

The Floating Republic by C.E. Manwaring – A history of two mass mutinies by the British navy during the early (losing) portions of the Napoleonic conflict, during which the sea tars rose up and demanded an extra shilling and to be whipped slightly less often. I've largely lost my taste for this sort of minor military history but this was an interesting subject at least.

The Sandcastle Iris Murdoch – An aging Don reconsiders throwing over his shitty wife and crappy family for the love of a young artist. The characters are well drawn and the language is subtly skillful. My only complaint really is that it was English as hell, but then I've been up to my neck in that lately so its probably on me.

Rogue Justice by Geoffrey Household – Unable to assassinate Hitler, an unnamed, archetypal English big game hunter wages a personal war against Nazi Germany across southern and central Europe. Household is a ton of fun and this is cleverer than the synopsis.

Family Lexicon by Natalia Ginsberg – The mocking if ultimately loving recollections of the author's family, childhood, and life. Coming from a large, loud, sort of Italian family myself I found the power struggles and confused affections engagingly familiar, even if the Polansky clan did less to fight fascism.

People of the City by Cyprian Ekwenesi – A cad makes his way in a bustling metropolis, grappling with the morals and mores of modern Africa.

The Last Two Weeks of Georges Rivac by Geoffrey Household – A cosmopolitan businessman is drawn into the world of international intrigue. Competent but I didn't love it.

The Mask of Demitrios by Eric Ambler – A hack mystery writer is also drawn into the word of international intrigue, only some fifty years previous. Ambler was brilliant and has a real insight (one feels) into the authentically nasty nature of pre-War Europe, and there's a ton to like about this but also a few too many chapter-long monologues.

The Great Fire of London by Peter Ackroyd – An attempt to film Dickens results in a series of minor misfortunes culminating in terrible catastrophe. Caustic and well-observed..

Calamities by Renee Goldman – An experimental text intended to differentiate between the act of writing and the conscious progress of thought, I guess? I mean this isn't really the kind of book to which you give give a concrete summation.

So Long, See you Tomorrow by William Maxwell – A semi-autobiographical count of a youth spent in rural Illinois twinned with the fictitious history of a provincial murder. A poignant meditation on regret, love and despair. I dug it.

Books I Read May 9th, 2021

Writing this in distant, rural Cornwall, with bread rising and this...

...view behind me.

So, you know it's not all dystopia.

The Blizzard by Vladamir Sorokin – In a post-apocalyptic vision of the Russian Empire circa 1820, a curmudgeonly doctor tries to reach a rural village infected by a zombie plague. Sorokin is fabulously, fabulously weird, and this is a work of fiction which has no real counterpoint in English literature, being at once a genuine work of science fiction and also a bizarre and discomfiting satire. Bleak, but engaging.

Piranesi by Susanna Clark – Best to go into this knowing as little as possible, but do go into it all the same. I tend to get a little too bullish on things right after I've read them, but a week on I would say this is one of the best works of fantasy ever written, a work of great cleverness and enormous beauty, to be set on a shelf with Little, Big, Peace, Ficciones, and maybe nothing else. That rarest of genre works which elevates itself into the ranks of high literature. Sublime.

A Graveyard for Lunatics by Ray Bradbury – Bradbury's youthful surrogate solves a mystery at a movie studio circa 1950. It was a bit mawkish for my tastes, particularly given how much I liked the first of these.

Traveling Light by Tove Jannson – A collection of subtle shorts by my favorite Finn. I liked the eponymous tale in particular, as well as the one about the old woman getting lost in transit.

The Wolf and the Watchman by Niklass Natt och Dag – The tagline says 'the Alienist set in 18th century Stockholm, which pretty much sums it up completely. Then again I don't like anything.

Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns – A series of very nasty events befalls a village of horribly unlikable and dreadfully sad people. I love Comyns, but this was so unrelentingly mean it bordered on self-parody.

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes – An old man reflects on his life, the suicide of a teenage chum. I appreciate Barnes' talent but find everything he writes a little bit too neat for my tastes.

Books I Read May 3rd, 2021

All that reading Leo Perutz led me to write about Leo Perutz over at the LA Review of Books. I cooked Paella for the first time, not entirely unsuccessfully. Did you know that in England, they call an elevator a lift? Madness. Just madness.

Peach by Emma Glass – The story of a young woman terrorized by an older man, her body, society, told in surrealist, food-influenced prose. It was a little bit too much of a final project for your MFA but it was effectively unpleasant and at 150 pages I can dig some adventurous prose.

Cold Hand in Mine by Robert Aickman – Horror stories in the 'there's a creepy house at the end of the lane don't go in there why would you go in there you went in there' sort. There's a deliberate attempt to forego the usual sting that lies at the ends of these type of stories, but honestly I found it only occasionally effective. The one about the clock wife was cool though.

The Treasure by Selma Lagerlof – A story of love and vengeance in the magical realist mold. I'm really digging the Lagerlof I've been reading, maybe I'll try and work something longer up about her.

Mythago Woods by Robert Holdstock – The woods behind a house are a primordial nexus of energy creating physical embodiments of the myths of the surrounding people. I liked it more in premise than execution.

The Harpy by Megan Hunter – A woman drives herself mad in the pursuit of vengeance against her philandering husband. Nasty, quick, well-written, I dug it.

Who Censored Roger Rabbit by Gary K. Wolfe – The basis for the beloved 80's movie is less charming than one would hope.

The Rice Mother by Rani Manicka – Several generations of a Malaysian family are destroyed by the things they love.

Books I Read April 25th, 2021

I know, I know no one here to say hello
I know they keep the way clear
And I am lonely in London without fear
I'm wondering round and round here nowhere to go

The Conformist by Albert Moravia – A man sublimates his homosexual yearnings, neglectful upbringing, and desire for normality by marrying a woman he doesn't love and becoming a fascist spy. Perceptive and discomfiting.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie – A murder in a charming English village uncovers all sorts of immoral shenanigans. As a rule I dislike locked door mysteries and despise 'cozies', which is why I've never gotten around to reading anything by Ms. Christie. But this (which I gather is considered her best) is quite good, breezy and smart with a lot of good dialogue and a mean sting.

A Hero of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov – Byron ruins Russian society in this episodic depiction of a louche, perverse anti-hero. Like if you mixed the shooting in Tolstoy with the existential angst of Dostoevsky. I thought it was pretty OK. For those playing at home, my list of classic Russians goes: Dostoevsky = Tolstoy > Gogol > Lermontov > Turgenev.

The Emperor of Portugalia by Selma Lagerlof – How come you've never head of the first woman to win the Nobel prize for literature? Probably because she won it during those early periods were the selection committee was basically only giving it out to Scandinavians. Which is too bad, because this is actually pretty fabulous, a strange, melancholy fable about a simple farmer whose devoted love to his beautiful daughter turns to a sort of magical madness when she leaves the countryside for the city. I really liked it, Lagerlof seems ripe for rediscovery.

The Parrots by Filippo Bologna – Three writers at various stages in their career pursue a literary prize. I thought it was insightful and laugh out loud funny, although being a writer I'm a sucker for books shit talking writers. Writers fucking suck, man. Bunch of assholes.

Books I Read April 18th, 2021

London opens with the slow arrival of Spring. The themes has a certain grotty grandeur. Being near a dozen Turkish supermarkets helps when it comes to buying spices, although, strangely, I've had to make great efforts to find paneer. I read the following books this week.

Apartment in Athens by Glenway Wescott – A brooding German martinet occupies a room in the eponymous apartment of a bourgeois Greek family, to ensuing misfortune. A thoughtful and engaging depiction of a peculiarly parasitic relationship, the national characters of the two nations, and the (generally though not exclusively) miserable effects of war and deprivation on the human spirit.

A Heritage and Its History by Ivy Compton-Burnett – Several generations of Englishmen feud over a title and estate with the sort of linguistic complexity generally reserved for the House of Commons. As a rule I try not to criticize writers for succeeding in what they've set out in doing, and Ms. Compton-Burnett's dialogue (the book is almost entirely dialogue) is exceedingly clever. That said, every character speaks in a fashion which is 1) virtually identical and 2) bears no resemblance whatsoever to actual human conversation. It probably didn't help that the fundamental consideration of the novel--which tedious gentleman will inherit the ancestral office – is not one, thank God, which has ever much occupied my thoughts.

The Book of Swindles by Yingyu Zhang – A collection of scams befalling the unlucky and unwise in 16th century China. I now feel myself well equipped to navigate the riverboats and hostelries of the late Ming Empire.

Death Going Down by Maria Angelica Bosco – A dead woman is found in a Buenos Aires apartment elevator, mystery unfolds. Competent but unmemorable.

Record of a Night Too Brief by Hiromi Kawakami – Dreamlike vignettes, surreal bordering on nonsensical. Uneven, but I liked the one about the snake.

Death is a Lonely Business by Ray Bradbury – The author's youthful surrogate searches for the killer of a menagerie of despairing losers in 1950's Venice. Existentialist neo-noir of the highest order. I've never been a huge Bradbury fan and was shocked at how good this was. It's less a mystery novel than a reworking of genre tropes used to explore the rapidly fading grandeur of 50's Los Angeles and the occasional tragedy of human existence. Its slapstick surrealism reminded me somewhat of Inherent Vice, but its earthy, honest sentimentality, the lived in feel of the scenery and setting, renders it a clear notch above Pynchon's work. In fact there are a lot of over-hyped literary types who've attempted to mine similar territory, more pretentiously and to less effect. In short, Paul Auster would give his left nut to write something half as good. You should really give it a gander.

I Am a Cat by Natsume Soseki – An arrogant cat (are there other kinds?) observes the hypocrisy of Meiji society. I'm indifferent to cats as animals and actively dislike them as literary devices, and nothing really happens in these 1200-odd pages, but Natsume's wit sparkles so incandescent that I largely didn't mind.

Books I Read April 11, 2021

Turns out cold weather and quarantine are good for reading. To whit...

How to Fall: Stories by Edith Pearlman – A collection of short stories mostly of the subtle observations of bourgeois life vein. I tend to struggle a bit with that kind of thing but by the end Ms. Pearlman had me a believer.

The Rabbit Back Literature Society by Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen – A young writer's induction into a prestigious, secretive, literary society run by an eccentric, monstrous, possibly magical children's author leads to some supernatural shenanigans, clever insight into the essentially parasitical nature of fiction. I dug it.

By Night Under the Stone Bridge by Leo Perutz – Still fucking amazing.

Barcelona Shadows by Marc Pastor – Death itself narrates this story of a Maigret-like detective on the trail of a child murdering possible vampire. Nothing really wrong with this except that I find books about child killing aggressively tedious. I recognize the irony given that I wrote one, but still.

The Swedish Cavalier by Leo Perutz – Also still very good.

Books I Read Easter Edition

Happy Easter from England. I got hot cross buns on their second proof so we better make this quick. These are the books I read the last 2 weeks, well below my usual standards but I did have a lot to do what with leaving the country for a while.

She Who Was No More by Boileau-Narcejac – A traveling salesman and his lover plot the perfect murder of his wife, goes insane. Nasty existentialist noir of the first water, I'm getting pretty into the above duo.

The Pilgrim Hawk by Glenway Wescott – A woman, her shitty husband and her ill behaved hawk serve as a profound if slightly on the nose metaphor for a certain sort of love. I actually quite dug this I just can't be bothered to write a proper review.

Heir of Sea and Fire by Patricia A. McKillip

Turlupin by Leo Perutz – A dreamy, self-involved half-wit inadvertently saves the French nobility from the machinations of Cardinal Richelieu. Not as strong as some of Perutz's others but the plotting is masterful and its mean and funny.

Orlando by Virginia Woolf – If you didn't know Virginia Woolf wrote Orlando I feel like you wouldn't believe it. 'Who? The author of the opaquely brilliant, intimately conceived familial dramas such as The Lighthouse and Mrs. Dalloway took some time off to write this fantastical gender-bending satire? I think you're wrong.' But you aren't wrong, and she did, and it starts funny but grows tedious.

Books I Read March 21st, 2021

I remain upright.

The Other Side by Alfred Kubin – A journey to a foreign land/the depths of the unconscious as understood by a German illustrator of the early 20th century. Weird and disturbing and vivid, if kind of listless.

Selected Poems by William Carlos Williams –

The thought returns: Why have I not

but for imagined beauty where there is none

or none available, long since

put myself deliberately in the way of death

Or, alternatively:

Just as the nature of briars

is to tear flesh,

I have proceeded

through them.

The Summer Book by Tove Jansson – An old woman spends the summers with her motherless granddaughter on an island in the gulf of Finland. I love, love, love Tove Jansson. Her descriptions of nature (which I usually can't really stand) are sublime, and her vignettes of family and childhood beautifully vivid, cruel and sweet. Such a delight.

Clinch by Martin Holmen – A sociopathic bisexual ex-boxer turned loan collector is drawn into a murder in pre-war Stockholm. Nasty! A well-executed example of the genre.

Books I Read March 14th, 2021

We got rain this week, that was good. My sister came to visit, that was good. If you wanted to take a minute and read this article I wrote about my friend Kasia whose sister has been arrested by the Belarusian secret police, you would be made aware of another ongoing human tragedy about which you can do very little. But then, what is life but registering ineffectual protests against an indifferent existence? I read the following books this week.

Leonardo's Judas by Leo Perutz – Leonardo seeks the human face of betrayal in the romantic adventures of a German merchant and an impoverished Florentine beauty. Probably my last favorite Perutz, which marks it out as as strong and valuable work.

Arthur and George by Julian Barnes – The intersecting biographies of an unjustly imprisoned Eurasian lawyer and the boisterous creator of Sherlock Holmes. Entirely readable.

Bird in a Cage by Frederic Dard – An fresh released ex-con meets a woman on Christmas Eve, gets involved in a locked door mystery. Tight and mean and weird. My further fores into French noir have been paying dividends.

Hiroshima Mon Amour by Margaret Duras – I am not sure why I read this.

Books I Read March 7th, 2021

I'm getting a little tired of this whole COVID thing, I dunno about you. This week I read the following...

Master of the Day of Judgement by Leo Perutz – A locked room mystery which also doubles as an abstract commentary on the creative process which also also presages Lovecraft. Perutz was a master.

Vertigo by Boileau-Narcejac – A second rate private detective becomes obsessed with a death-obsessed beauty in this novel which was the basis for the movie you have probably seen. I actually haven't seen it, though (I know, I know, don't yell at me) so this was fresh and weird and strange and kinda awesome. Good stuff.

Odysseuss Abroad by Amit Chaudhuri – A day in the life of a would-be Bengali poet matriculating at a London university faintly mimics Joyce's work faintly mimicking Homer's. Biases on the table I tend tI find critiques of of the west from non-western writers entertaining but even still I thought this was quite strong. Apart from a fascinating depiction of Thatcher's London (and the Indian sub-community in particular) it truly does resemble Joyce in its earthy humanism and the essential sympathy it has for its characters.

The Proof of the Honey by Salwa Al Neimi – A woman explores her own sexuality/sexuality in the Arabic world. Basically this was an episode of Sex in the City, which, you know, take that however you want. I found the erotica tedious and kind of self-indulgent but I enjoyed the gossip and some of the lines of Arabic poetry.

The Tokyo Zodiac Murders by Soji Shimada – Maybe writing books has kind of demystified this for me but I generally just fucking can't stand locked door mysteries (Perutz's above being one of the few exceptions, and the impetus for my reading two more this week). There's this absurd pretense that it's some sort of logic puzzle but obviously the circumstances are the ludicrously improbable creations of a narrator, and apart from bearing no resemblance to the reality of crime only function so long as you adhere strictly to the confines of the mystery as implied. They're like Rube Goldberg devices missing an egg-laying chicken or what have you – I guess you can figure out what component would fit the machine, but the machine is imaginary and non-functional so who gives a shit. Anyway I didn't love this.

Books I Read February 28th, 2021

I just finished hiking and I'm too tired to think of something clever to write for this info. What's my excuse every other time, amiright? I read the following books this week.

Discourses and Other Writings by Epictetus – I remember finding this more compelling as a 15 year old, to be very frank. There's a lot of like, 'fuck you blockhead, quit crying cause your kid died of cholera' and you're just like chill dude, I thought you were the one who was supposed to be all cool and shit. Anyway.

Cockfighter by Charles Willeford – A lot of in-depth stuff about cock fighting interrupting a tedious, masturbatory depiction of masculinity. I was pretty excited going into is but this book sucked.

The Marquis of Bolibar by Leo Perutz – A unit of Germans fighting on behalf of Bonaparte in Spain find themselves massacred in this stunningly wrought masterwork of a novel. I am going to try and write more about Perutz at some point so I won't write further except that I literally stopped and went 'shit!' 4-5 while reading this. Like, out loud.

The Seventh Perfection Give Away Contest

I find author's copies kind of embarrassing. If someone comes over and sees you own twelve copies of a book with your name on it, what conclusions would they reasonably form? But I also find logistics to be enormously annoying, which is why I've had these...

...staring at me for the last six months or so.

But now I really need the shelf space, which is where you come in. For a cool 25$ donation to the SELAH Neighborhood Homeless Coalition I will ship you a copy The Seventh Perfection. SELAH are good folk, I've worked with them for the last couple of years trying to help address homelessness in Los Angeles. It's volunteer run, all the money will go to blankets and food and whatnot.

Wait! There's more! Apart from the book itself, which is weird and maybe even clever, every participant will receive, tucked onto the title page, a secret. One confidential but not uncomfortably intimate detail at which you can laugh, or try and blackmail me with – anything you want, its your secret.

All you gotta do is go here, give em 25$ – or whatever, I mean, give him a thousand, like I said it's for a good cause – forward me the confirmation email and your address, and I'll ship you out a copy. Alas, this is only open to those of us in the continental US. I got 12 copies, I’ll ship them until they’re gone.

The alternative is I stuff them into the free library outside of the elementary school down the block, and I don't really think we want children exposed to my writing, do we?