Posts tagged with best of the best

What I Read in May – Part Deux. In which I detail my ongoing obsession with all things Gaiman

  • Posted on July 31, 2010 at 3:09 pm

Five of the books I read in May were by Neil Gaiman. Three of them were comic book collections, so those are a quicker read, usually. But still – that’s a lot of Gaiman. And that doesn’t include the months (and months) of blog posts I read.  Plus, he’s the reason I read Alabaster. So, yeah.

He shows up a lot in June as well. And July. He’s a talented, prolific guy, what can I say?

***

Absolute Death & Endless Nights and Marvel 1602, all by Neil Gaiman and various artists (Dave McKean, Mark Buckingham, P. Craig Russell & Andy Kubert to name a few). Reading these reminded me of how much I loved reading comics. Not as a kid, as an adult. I got hooked on X-Men comics the summer after I graduated from high school (my roommate had been collecting for years and I got to read all he had, and then had to start collecting my own when I moved away). I finally stopped collecting them after 10 years – not because I stopped liking them, but because it was too expensive to keep up with all the storylines I was interested in, too much work to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and they are much more fragile than books. Plus, I was a broke child and had to economize. But I never stopped liking them. I got all of these at the library – yay, libraries with graphic novels!

Absolute Death* & Endless Nights are both oversized collections from the Sandman comic book series. Death is the incarnation of death (a happy young goth girl) who is one of the Endless, a group of immortals (but not exactly) which includes Dream, Destruction, Desire, Delirium (formerly Delight), Destiny and Despair. Absolute Death is a collection of the Sandman stories that Death starred in, and Endless Nights has one story about each of the Endless. Both include forwards, extra text/sketches/back story/etc not included in the original comics. Much awesomeness.

Marvel 1602 is that most perfect of things: A COMIC BOOK by NEIL GAIMAN that has the X-MEN in it. Plus the Fantastic Four, Nick Cage, Captain America, Dr. Strange, and a bunch of other Marvel Universe regulars I’ve forgotten. Mutants start showing up in the year 1602, and prehistory starts repeating itself, sort of. It’s fantastic. A 6-comic series that ended up being 8 because there wasn’t enough room for it all. Even more awesomeness.

American Gods and Anansi Boys. I read American Gods (again) for #1b1t on twitter – in fact I joined twitter so I could follow it. #1b1t was the first twitter book club (one book one twitter). Twitterers voted on what book the world should read – and American Gods won. I read Anansi Boys (again) because I was reading the part of Gaiman’s blog where he was writing it – and wanted to give it another shot.

American Gods is a fabulous book, probably the novel that moved me from liking Gaiman’s writing to looooving it (I’d already read Neverwhere, Stardust and Smoke and Mirrors). It is the story of Shadow, a seemingly-regular-joe who got in a bit of trouble, and gets out of jail to find that ancient gods (like Odin and Icarus and hundreds of others) are battling new gods (like Media and Techboy), and he’s caught in the middle. A road story, and buddy story, a coming-of-age story, and a treatise on the waves of peoples who have come to the ‘new world.’ Also about human nature, and faith. Did I say I loved it? LOVED it. I think I first read it in 2002ish when it first came out in paperback. This was probably my fifth time – still fantastic. Couldn’t stick to the reading schedule for #1b1t and finished it the 3rd week.

Anansi Boys is… well, my least favorite Gaiman book (see, my love is not blind!). To be fair, the first time I read it, I thought it was a sequel to AG, which it most definitely is not. It shares one minor character in a completely different context. This book is a comic (as in funny, not as in pictures + word balloons) undertaking, whereas AG is a serious and contemplative novel. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But it’s like when the movie trailer looks like a romantic comedy and the film turns out to be gory horror flick – it messes everything up. So I was reading it again to give it a fair shot (and this time prefaced by Gaiman’s blog discussion). Still my least favorite Gaiman, but I liked it better the second time around. AG is my favorite kind of novel, and very well-done. AB… isn’t. My favorite kind of novel, that is. It is very well-done.

For those of you sick to death of me blogging (and talking, and texting, and facebooking) about Mr. Gaiman – you’ll be happy to hear that I only have about 18 12 months of blog left to read. Then I will have Read. It. All.

Well, all except the American Gods blog – which is in a book w/some other stuff, so I’ll be reading it there when I can get a copy. But I have to warn you… he’s still blogging. And writing. And twittering. And now I’m following his fiance and his assistant because they are both funny and interesting as well (no, Officer, I was not peaking into Mr. Gaiman’s windows. These binoculars? I was merely admiring those fine bee-hives over yonder, why do you ask?).

So, maybe he won’t own the place, but this will certainly not be a Gaiman-less zone any time soon. You’ve been warned.

* Absolute refers to the size and paper quality and such, and is not to be construed as commentary on Death, death, dying, or how it’s much like taxes. In case you were wondering.

Continue reading What I Read in May – Part Deux. In which I detail my ongoing obsession with all things Gaiman

Fangirl post: Barbara Kingsolver

  • Posted on April 9, 2010 at 10:32 pm

I’m not much of a ‘best-seller’ reader anymore.

I used to be – I’ve read every Dean Koontz/Stephen King/John Grisham/Piers Anthony novel up to about 1997 or so.  Then I went back to school and became a book snob. I discovered writers that could blow my mind while entertaining it, and soon those books cranked out by writers once a year started to feel tired and formulaic.  I’ve got absolutely nothing against those books, and some of them are still on my shelf as favorites (The Stand, Lightning, etc).

But not all ‘best-sellers’ are formulaic and predictable.  A super-favorite author of mine – Barbara Kingsolver – also happens to be a big seller (which gives me hope for the world).  I can’t believe that I have barely mentioned her here before now. Maybe that is partly because she hasn’t had a new novel in YEARS, and I’ve re-read her stuff a million times already.

Lucky for all of us, her skills have not diminished in the passing years.  The Lacuna is everything one expects in a Kingsolver novel – fantastic writing, interesting themes, full-bodied characters and a striking moral core. To quote Judy Krueger (fellow Kingsolver fan and bookbrowse.com reviewer) – I love her “because she is a woman of heart and mind who is unafraid of using her mind to reveal her heart.”

I had put The Lacuna on hold at the library before it was even released (I have no desire to own hardbacks, and no way I was waiting for the paperback ). I think there was something like 67 holds on the book before they’d even received their first copy, so it was quite some time before I received that happy little email saying the book was waiting for me. Unfortunately, that email came when I was in the middle of re-reading The Wheel of Time series – 10, 500 pages (thank you, Wikipedia) of kick-ass fantasy adventure.

I picked up the book, but continued with my series.  I would look at Lacuna on my bookcase and think “I should really take that back, I’m not going to get to it before my three weeks is up.” But I didn’t, I just left it there as I burned through more Jordan.  Finally, I received that dreaded email – “the following item is due in three days, please return.” I tried to renew it, but of course there were 100 people behind me waiting for their turn, so I could not.

Suddenly, the thought of returning the book was unbearable. “No! I haven’t read it yet. You can’t have it back.” I think no one but Barbara Kingsolver could have distracted me from The Wheel of Time.  I decided right then that I’d finish it in the three days left to me (lucky for me, it was a weekend). And I’m so glad I did.

Harrison Sheppard is a lonely, virtually parent-less boy who keeps journals to have someone to talk to, even if only himself.  His life is split between Mexico and America, where he runs into famous people (such as Frida Kahlo and Leon Trotsky) and scary circumstances (like food riots and McCarthy-ites), but never feels at home anywhere.  Kingsolver shows us the world through his boyhood imagination, youthful enthusiasm, and adult disillusionment.  Her writing, as always, is lush and almost visible between those black dots on the page.

Now, if I’d bothered to write about this book soon after I’d read it, I’d have much more to say about it. But I didn’t – and I’m old, so the details fade. The book is fantastic, go read it. ‘Nuff said.

Continue reading Fangirl post: Barbara Kingsolver

Extremely Sad & Incredibly Wonderful

  • Posted on January 30, 2010 at 8:54 pm

I read Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer again this week and fell in love with it all over again.

I heard about the book from a fellow student in my Studies in Fiction class.  I never did thank her for that, or tell her how much I loved the book.  We were reading Pattern Recognition by William Gibson and Falling Man by Don DeLillo in class – two books that deal with the aftermath of 9/11 in New York.  Emily did not like either of them (both of which I loved) and recommended EL&IC.

EL&IC is probably the most powerful, stunning, achingly sad book I’ve ever read – and I’m a fan of beautifully sad books.  Some are more lyrical (The God of Small Things by Arundhati  Roy comes to mind), and some more profound (such as The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje)  but this book allows you to experience the sadness of an 9-year-old boy who’s lost his father in the Twin Towers.   It also touches on the losses his family experienced in WWII that are not so far removed from the present as you’d imagine.  It is a map of heartbreak and guilt and loss that seemed abundantly human and intimately personal. I cried hard, more than once, and it helps me believe that personal redemption is possible and I can survive almost anything if this young boy can find a way to survive what happened to him.  Everyone in the world should read it.

Continue reading Extremely Sad & Incredibly Wonderful

Fangirl Post: Michael Chabon

  • Posted on October 19, 2009 at 10:37 pm

First, I should probably apologize for letting almost A MONTH go by with no posts.  I have no excuse for ignoring all (two) of you fine people for that long.  I have, maybe, one-week’s worth of excuse – I wrote my first official book review for Bookbrowse.com two weeks ago!  I will blog about The Children’s Book after that review is published, and put a link up so you all can check it out.  With any luck, my bio on their site will encourage two more people to find me out here in the interwebs.  Won’t I be special then?  Now, to business.

Michael Chabon (pronounced Shay-bon, as I learned this week) is a crazy good writer.  I first saw the name after watching the film, Wonder Boys (starring Michael Douglas, Tobey Maguire, Frances McDormand, and the ever-fabulous Robert Downey, Jr.), which was based on his second (published) novel (which is about the experience of writing his second [unpublished] novel, which sucked hard-core).  I loved the movie and (as usual) went looking for more quality entertainment by the same guy.  His first novel (Mysteries of Pittsburgh) was good, but it was The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay that made me a die-hard fan.  Not only great writing and superb story-telling, but a comic-book-history theme and the obligatory gay sub-plot!  But don’t take my word for it – he won a Pulitzer for that one.  I’ve since read all his novels and a few of his short stories, eagerly awaiting each new gem.

This is a writer who just gets better and better.  Some of his latest stuff (The Final Solution, Gentlemen of the Road) has been short novellas  with great story – but the language is better than great, it is extraordinary.  I just want to dive in and swim around in the words and phrases and sentences forever and ever.  And he’s only two years older than me (and apparently happily married <sigh>).  He should have a few more decades to be cranking this stuff out.

One of the dozens of reasons I moved to Portland was because there was so much cool stuff going on here.  Case in point – a reading by Michael Chabon! Free at Powell’s!  His new book!  Book-geek heaven hosts book-geek-idol extraordinaire! And did I mention it was free?  And less than five miles from my house? At the coolest bookstore on the planet? (sorry Title Wave,  but it’s true).   Of course, I was going.  But, I must admit I was worried. What if he was lame in person? What if he spoke like that guy on the Clear-Eyes commercials?  What if he was stiff and boring and ruined my future reading pleasure with his lameness?  I shudder to think.

Thankfully, he was everything I hoped he would be.  I’d seen photos, so I knew he was reasonably attractive (one worry down, dozens to go).   But he was funny and humble and sexy and teasing and witty, and human while being utterly adorable.  And he really did look a lot like Michael Douglas did in the film.  He read two essays from his new book which were marvelously written and slyly thought-provoking while making us laugh out loud (me and my 200 best book-geek friends).  All in all, a perfect first-run of the author visit circuit at Powell’s, and confirmation that my author-love is not misplaced.

This week – Barbara Ehrenreich comes to town.

Continue reading Fangirl Post: Michael Chabon

Why can’t they all be this good?

  • Posted on June 12, 2009 at 3:57 pm

The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields is the story of one person’s life as she experiences the 20th century (primarily) in North America. There are wars, depression, children, love, work, illness, death and everything else in-between.   One of the first books I discussed here was Happenstance, also by Shields.  I liked it, but had expected more.  TSD was everything I expected from a Shields novel – well-written, surprising, technically impressive and full of interesting commentary on the human condition.    Of course, you don’t have to take my word for it – it won a Pulitzer Prize, the Governor General’s Award (Canada) and National Book Critics Circle Award.

This is the good stuff.  Every detail speaks to every other detail, and there are layers underneath the layers.   One example: the title – The Stone Diaries – works on several levels.  The book is a ‘diary’ of Daisy’s life – and her mother’s maiden name is Stone (though we know nothing about Mercy Stone’s family).  Daisy’s father and father-in-law were both stone cutters in rural Canada in the early 1900s, and her father eventually made his fortune selling a popular limestone in Indiana.  After Daisy’s mother dies, her father constructs a tower of stone around her grave.  The tower becomes so big that it attracts tourists to the area.  He also starts a stone pyramid in Bloomington after returning from a trip to Egypt, but never finishes it.  These are only the references to stone I can immediately recall – there are dozens more.

The book has an interesting structure.  It is written as a biography or journal – including letters from relatives and supposed family pictures – but is a work of fiction.  The book is separated into different sections – Childhood, Love, Ease, Death, etc.  Each section is presented differently.  For instance, the section where we learn of the unusual circumstances of Daisy’s birth is narrated by an omniscient Daisy.  Daisy tells how she imagines her birth (and the mother she never knew) based on the facts she’s been given.  This is the only section where we truly get a first-person account of Daisy’s life – the part she had no personal recollection of.

After her husband dies, she writes a column for the local newspaper. This section is presented via letters written to Daisy – nothing written by Daisy herself or even any events narrated in a third-person.  She is writing for a living, but we don’t see any of her writing.  I am certain this is a deliberate attempt to illustrate her powerlessness, she has a ‘voice’ in her writing, but in the end she is ‘let go’ so a man could have the job.

There is a different form for each section, but it is never choppy or a case of style interfering with story-telling.  I never lost interest and was always wondering what was coming on the next page.  Shields is a master at conveying not just events, but experiences.  This one goes in the permanent collection.

Continue reading Why can’t they all be this good?