I was feeling a bit under the weather this weekend, so although I read a fair amount of books (242-246 to be precise), I don’t really have much energy to write about them. Sorry that these are a bit short.

Evidence of Things Unseen

This is what the Chicago book club is reading at the moment, and like the other selections, it has good things and bad. The bad, in my opinion, is that this book is incredibly pretentious, precious, and contrived. They seem to be into that kind of thing over in the book club, though. Or maybe it’s a general book club thing; if any of you are in book clubs, can you tell me if book clubs just generally pick contrived books? At any rate, I loathe authors who abuse punctuation as a literary device. Besides finding it distracting, I also find that it makes books harder to read and enjoy, and, again, it is extremely pretentious. Language, on its own, is so beautiful that you don’t need to muck about with punctuation to make your book “poetic.” If you think you do, you are either a crappy writer, or insecure. Take your pick.

That said, I liked the story in this book, when I was able to overcome the insane levels of frustration and rage that the style created. Every now and then, there was a beautiful turn of phrase that made me almost giddy, and I would find myself slipping deeply into the story and really starting to enjoy it. And then of course I would be jerked back out by the punctuation insanity.

If precious punctuation drives you crazy, you will probably not be able to overcome this book’s serious shortcoming and enjoy it. But if you can rise above, or at least pretend to, I’d recommend it. I’m curious to know what Tristan thinks of it, since he usually listens to books on tape, and that would create a very different reading experience.

Demographics:

Evidence of Things Unseen, by Marianne Wiggins. Published 2003, 383 pages. Fiction.

A Wild Sheep Chase

What would you do if you lost everything?

A Wild Sheep Chase is about a single event which sets of a series of events in motion, slowly deconstructing the lead character’s life. He goes from having a reasonably successful business and a girlfriend and a purpose in living to a blank void; a clean slate, if you will.

Like Murakami’s other novels, A Wild Sheep Chase is decidedly surreal, complete with mysterious sheep, ear fetishes, and anonymous right wing government officials. And a food obsession. I really think Murakami has some unexpressed food issues or something, because food always plays a role in his books. His characters eat a lot, or constantly make food, or experiment with new foods.

The followup to this boo is Dance Dance Dance, an equally surreal exploration of human nature and the events which shape our lives. One thing I like about both books is that there is no grand unifying theory, no neat resolution at the end. The story just ends.

Demographics:

A Wild Sheep Chase, by Haruki Murakami. Published 1989, 299 pages. Fiction.

Pay Dirt

Another of the Rita Mae Brown mysteries happened to catch my eye, so I grabbed it. I actually thought it was a new book, but I turned out to be wrong. That said, I don’t think I’ve read it before, and it was at least entertaining, as these sorts of things generally are. Mr Bell was sitting on my lap while I read, and he seemed to concur. Not much not to like about bigamy, horses, small towns, and crime-solving postmistresses, I tell you what.

Demographics:

Pay Dirt, by Rita Mae Brown. Published 1995, 251 pages. Fiction.

The Plague of Doves

I don’t know how to feel about this book. I think I was too out of it to really grasp it. It’s a series of interconnecting stories, with characters who overlap and scenes witnessed from multiple angles. The common thread in all of the sections of the book is a brutal unsolved murder which resulted in a lynching, and the ways in which the community dealt with both events.

The story is set in North Dakota, and it’s interesting, to me, because it documents Metis culture. I am really intrigued by the intersection of Native Americans and the French in the Northern reaches of North America, so it was kind of neat to get some glimpses of that. At the same time, though, I felt kind of disconnected from the characters.

I am hesitant to say that I didn’t like this book, because, as I say, I felt really out of it when I was trying to read it. So it might be a book that I would really enjoy in the future, if I read it again. I’m curious to know if anyone else has read it, and what their thoughts were.

Demographics:

The Plague of Doves, by Louise Erdrich. Published 2008, 314 pages. Fiction.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

I’ve been thinking about Alice lately, so when I discovered this cheap Penguin edition, I couldn’t resist. (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but Penguin Classics are awesome.) This book is so strange and surreal that every time I read it, I end up feeling almost intoxicated with the story and the characters. I know that all sorts of things are read into Alice, about growing into adulthood and so forth, but sometimes I prefer to read it as a simple romp; I’d rather just enjoy the story and not think about the complexities.

It’s funny, too, how much Alice has infiltrated our language. I say “‘Curioser and curioser,’ cried Alice” on a regular basis, for example, and most people know about the Queen of Hearts and her tarts, and the Cheshire Cat. The book even lent a few words to modern English, like “chortle,” which just goes to show you, once again, how critical fiction really is.

Demographics:

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll. Published 1865, 146 pages. Fiction.