Slate article

I have a thing for articles like this, though they do get repetitive.

What is the Name of this Post?

Sometimes I think that many literary authors must have had terrible experiences with filing out paperwork or applying for state ID cards or something. Seriously.

Spoiler alert!

So, this first books is about a guy who doesn't cry at his mother's funeral and then gets executed. Again I say, seriously. That's really the plot. It's either called The Stranger or The Outsider depending on your translation, and it's the first book by Albert Camus. Now, I loved The Plague, but The Outsider didn't do all that much for me. It was rather Kafka-esque, and I have low patience for these sort of things.

Anyway, it was an interesting read in some ways. It really picked up with the second half after he had been arrested. Though actually the trial was a bit maddening as well. But his outburst at the absurdity of it all was excellent. Again, I recommend The Plague, but this one was fine. And actually quite short.

Now, the next one I really did love. I've noted here before that I have a thing for Russian writers, and The Master and Margarita did not disappoint. It's a retelling of Faust wrapped up with a retelling of the Pontius Pilate story.

This was such a forceful, complex novel. The set-up in the first chapter is amazing, and the tonal change from that chapter to the second leaves you reeling but also shows the author's mastery. While the story builds and continues to raise the stakes in many ways, that second chapter may be my favorite part of the novel. There is so much to unpack here, and I'm sure this is one that would benefit from a few re-reads, as well as some conversations with people who have more expert knowledge and background.

I did love it, but I'm not sure to whom I could recommend it. I'm definitely glad that I've read as much Gogol, Tolstoy, Turgenev, and Dostoevsky as I have, and that I've read Faust (and I guess that being familiar with the Passion helps, too, of course). In some ways it also reminded me of The Satanic Verses. It would be interesting to do a comparative piece with those two. Many, many differences obviously, and written in very different historical moments and cultural contexts (and really literary styles, though they have a similar feel in some ways), but they speak to each other in fascinating ways.

Glass House, Stones, Mumble Mumble

Yeesh. We got a bit behind in July. In order to stay on track for the year, I need to read at least 37 and ideally 39 more books. We'll see what happens. The two years worth of American Scholars that I salvaged definitely did not help matters, and neither did Bleak House and its 900 pages. Time to kick it up a notch again.

Dashiell Hammett's The Glass Key was definitely the most enjoyable read I had during my Europe trip. It is basically just classic noir of the non-detective variety. It is short, but well-crafted, as you would expect from Hammett. I'd say that this one is less about the twist, per se, and more about the main character's journey. Even that doesn't feel quite accurate, exactly. It's not that he changes as a character, more that his circumstances change and he adapts, and in some ways it's almost as though he expected this change. It's a very cynical novel, of course.

I feel like I should have more to say, but I read it about a month ago now, and though it was a fun read, it was essentially your basic noir. Nothing particularly unusual about it. After I finished it I did start to try to cast a movie version with current actors. They did make a movie of it in 1942, which I have not seen, and which is not available in any format on Netflix. Sad face.

Onward now to Bleak House. I personally find it easier to tolerate this one if I put the emphasis on house rather than bleak. I suggest trying that if you ever decide to read this one.

There's really nothing wrong with Bleak House; it's quintessential Dickens, as you would imagine. I'd suggest David Copperfield or Great Expectations over this one, but overall it's fine. There were some really funny parts, and I think I tolerated Esther more than some (you need to groove with her or you are in trouble). I'm sure many papers have been written about Dickens' treatment of and perspective on women, and this would provide some fodder for that.

The thing is, though, that this is a really, really long book; having read so much Dickens already, this really contributed nothing new. I am Dickensed out, ladies and gentlemen, and that is all there is to say. Yes, it does have spontaneous human combustion, but it's not what you think. It really could have been replaced with pneumonia, say, and would have made little difference.

Sometimes this Project Sucks

Some books raise more questions than they answer. Interview with the Vampire is one of those books. It raises such provocative questions as:

• What possessed Anne Rice to write this novel?
• Why was it so popular?
• What do people find appealing about it?
• Why is it on the list?
• Can I please have the hours (not many, mind you, but still) of my life that I spent reading this back?
  
• Pretty please?

Seriously.

Where to start. Clearly I hated this novel. I think I hated everything about this novel, including the name of the main character. He was amazingly whiny and angsty. I don't think I have any sort of unreasonable prejudice against vampires. Yes, not a Twilight fan, yes, never seen Buffy nor Angel nor True Blood, but hey, I read and enjoyed Dracula! That should count for something. Plus, I think it is fair to blame a lot of the current problems with vampires on Rice.

I'm having a hard time deciding which character I hated the most. One hand, wanted to maim or otherwise destroy Claudia; other hand, loathed Lestat to an unbelievable degree; but, in all, I think Louis was the worst. Perhaps because we spend so much time with him, or perhaps because he is pretentious, whiny, obnoxious, creepy, self-righteous, stupid, boring, and cringe-inducing.

When looking up the title for this little work online (I can never remember the proper article before Vampire), I stumbled on Annerice.com, which is filled with discussion questions (22, to be exact). Let's tackle a couple, shall we?

1. Over the years Rice has been asked why she chose the vampire as her hero. If you were Rice, how would you answer the question?

With hand puppets! Or a sardonic grin.

2. Why did she write a metaphysical thriller using B-movie motif?

I reject the premise of this question; I argue that she did not write a metaphysical thriller. There was nothing thrilling about this novel, except when I reached the last page and realized that it was behind me.

The silver lining to all of this has got to be the movie adaptation. I've not seen it, but I recently googled it as well, and the pictures of Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt are hilarious.

Bubonic Insomnia

All right! Yes, we did take a hiatus. We were on holiday. It was amazing. We read many books, but we had internet limitations.

Currently, Bleak House is destroying my soul, so I thought I'd take a reading break and do a quick update.

Let us start with The Last September (since that is the first one that I read). I elected to read this one on a transatlantic flight, which proved to be an excellent decision. This is because the first flight was one where I was supposed to fall asleep, and if this book doesn't cure insomnia I don't know what will. Truly, nothing happened. At all. This was actually sort of the point of the book, I think. It's kind of a coming of age story in Ireland during the Irish War of Independence, which actually sounds like it has some promise. However, the book is amazingly dull. I was actually quite disappointed, because I loved The House in Paris (and even The Heat of the Day was pretty good). I have a ton of Bowen's left, so hopefully this was the fluke and not the other way round.

After that, I decided to read The Plague, mostly because I found a left copy in the reading material stand at the gym. How amazing is that? This is a book about an Algerian town that faces the plague sometime in the 1940s. Now, I know that this sounds truly terrible, sort of about the worst book one can imagine, but please believe me, it is not. It's actually very beautiful in a sort of morbid way, and captivating. It's a bit bleak, but also hopeful in a way that only a work that real sees into the absolute darkness of the world without flinching can be. I'm not explaining this very well.

Here's an example quote "He knew that the tale he had to tell could not be one of final victory. It could be only the record of what had to be done, and what assuredly would have to be done again in the never-ending fight against terror and its relentless onslaughts." The whole book is like this. It's captivating, and it explores so, so, so many issues. You could do a whole course just using this book as a spring board. I'm always fascinated by ways people cope with facing horrific aspects of life over and over again, and my favorite passage of this book is a scene where the doctor and his friend decide to take an afternoon for their friendship to remind themselves the purpose of their work, the world the're working towards.

One of these books was abandoned in Venice and one in Munich. I wonder if anyone is reading them now.