Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata. Translation by Ginny Tabley Takemori.
Short and pithy. I felt like I briefly inhabited the body of a non-neurotypical Japanese woman in contemporary Tokyo. Family and societal expectations may be a bit different in Canada, but not so very different that I couldn't relate. Isolation, questioning what is "normal," and learning to accept oneself are themes that I never tire of - what a delight to encounter them in this witty translation.
I picked this up because of Eric of Lonesome Reader, who described it as similar to, and even better than, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine (which I loved). Not sure it's better than EOICF, but it's at least equally delicious.
As far as I was concerned, there wasn't any difference between my friend Miho's child and my nephew, and I didn't understand the logic of coming out all the way here just to see him. Maybe this particular baby should be more important to me than the others. But so far as I could see, aside from a few minor differences they were all just an animal called a baby and looked much the same, just like stray cats all looked much the same.
I stroked my sleeping nephew's cheek with my forefinger. It felt strangely soft, like stroking a blister.
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk. Translation by Antonia Lloyd-Jones.I love the voice in this novel so much! It's the voice of Mrs. Dusezjko, an eccentric 60-year-old vegetarian English teacher in a remote village in Poland. Animals, astrology and the writings of William Blake are her passions. She gets involved in investigating the deaths of local hunters: her theory is that the animals are taking revenge. Dark, funny and delightful.
It was my great good fortune to be loaned an advance reading copy of this novel by Laura Frey of Reading in Bed. It won't be published in Canada until next year, so do make a note to yourself to look for it in February 2019.
Geninne's Art: Birds in Watercolor, Collage, and Ink: A Field Guide to Art Techniques and Observing in the Wild by Geninne D. Zlatkis.This art technique book is chock full of ideas and inspiration. I love seeing how she translates the plants and animals that she observes in the natural world into whimsical works of art. I could look through this 100 times without getting bored. Check out her lovely website.
The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan
Lesbian mermaids (perhaps), selkies (maybe), and islanders who most definitely turn to stone on a clifftop when they die - there are magical elements in this Scottish novel that is otherwise quite realistic in its setting and portrayal of family, siblings, grief, loneliness and first love. I adore the fluidity; not knowing what to expect next in this richly-imagined story, layered with myth and real emotions and a prose style that gives me tingles.An added bonus for readers who love language: the chapter titles are either Scots words, or ballet terms, or boxing terms, and there's a glossary at the back. (Stramash: a fight. Stravaig: to wander. Swither: to hesitate.) Also, this was one of three novels in a row in which I encountered jellyfish. I wrote about that earlier, here.
The Ross girls were raised on fairy tales. The kind of books that would curdle your blood. Ravening beasts and handless maidens and hacked-off toes. Stepmothers dancing to death in red-hot shoes. Mermaids turning into sea-foam, ugly sisters having their eyes pecked out by birds, little red-hooded girls being eaten by wolves. All sorts of lovely things.
I'm Afraid of Men by Vivek Shraya.
An important, articulate extended essay about the harm that can be done to an individual's psyche because of societal expectations in regards to gender. Vivek Shraya, a trans woman who grew up in Edmonton, provides new ways of looking at masculinity and femininity. She will be at LitFest in Edmonton on October 13, 2018.
How cruel it is to have endured two decades of being punished for being too girly only to be told that I am now not girly enough.
Sexist comments, intimidation, groping, violating boundaries, and aggression are seen as merely "typical' for men. But "typical" is dangerously interchangeable with "acceptable." "Boys will be boys," after all.
If we want masculinity to be different, we must confront and tackle the baseline instead of longing for exceptions.
The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone by Olivia Laing. Audiobook [10 hours] narrated by Susan Lyons.
This nonfiction falls into several categories: history, biography, memoir and cultural journalism. The artists at the core of Laing's study include Andy Warhol, David Wojnarowicz, Klaus Nomi and Edward Hooper. People who felt alone even in a crowd. Loneliness is a fascinating topic, and often sad, but there's also a recognition that solitude can be a good thing.Loneliness, longing, does not mean one has failed, but simply that one is alive.
I'd never been comfortable with the demands of femininity, had always felt more like a boy, a gay boy, that I inhabited a gender position somewhere between the binaries of male and female, some impossible other, some impossible both. Trans, I was starting to realize, which isn't to say I was transitioning from one thing to another, but rather that I inhabited a space in the centre, which didn't exist, except there I was.
David Wojnarowicz on AIDS: "My rage is really about the fact that when I was told that I'd contracted this virus, it didn't take me long to realize that I'd contracted a diseased society as well."
The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner. Audiobook [10 hours] narrated by the author.
Insightful, poignant, bleak and devastating. If you like to read about social justice, this is for you. Romy Hall, serving two life sentences for murdering her stalker, feels frustrated, but not sorry for herself, as she navigates the prison juggernaut and worries about her young son. She is so different from me, yet I could identify strongly; Kushner's skill is in making all of her characters human.The story switches sometimes between points of view and Kushner doesn't have the skill of professional narrators who can immediately alert listeners to a change in first person POV, but that's the only drawback I found with the audiobook. I love hearing authors perform their own work.
The problem with reading was how relentless it was. You managed to concentrate long enough to read a whole paragraph and then there was another one, and they just kept coming.
The Merry Spinster: Tales of Everyday Horror by Mallory Ortberg
Clever, dark and so much fun. I shivered, chuckled and guffawed through this witty collection of short stories that mash together traditional tales as far ranging as the Grimm brothers, the Old Testament, Scottish ballads, and modern children's classics like The Wind in the Willows and Frog and Toad. I kept putting this one off because of the word horror on the cover - I'm fussy about what I like in that genre - and because of the scary mermaid/sheela-na-gig/ creature on the cover. It only took the first story, a riff on The Little Mermaid, to hook me. Once I got going, I didn't want to stop. Delightfully weird.
The frog looked like a calf's heart with a mouth slit across it.
A rich executive had three children; she had other things besides, but for the purposes of this story, we will not concern ourselves with the rest of her inventory.
A Month in the Country by J.L. Carr
Seen from a distance, our lives are brief; what matters are the connections we have with other people, and the satisfaction we derive from our endeavours. Beauty and nature can sustain and enrich us. This is a gorgeous, brief, tender novel set in northern England, where a shellshocked veteran heals after WWI as he works to uncover a medieval-era painting on a church wall.
Winner of the Guardian Fiction Prize in 1980, and shortlisted for the Booker, this melancholic novel was chosen for an online buddy read. I read it over three days, allowing much time to ponder, and enjoyed sharing the experience with my reading comrades, all of them Booktubers: Shawn the Book Maniac; Heidi of My Reading Life; Wilsonn Shugart; Curtis of Books and Books; and Chris of Bookish Cauldron.
Am I making too much of this? Perhaps. But there are times when man and earth are one, when the pulse of living beats strong, when life is brimming with promise and the future stretches confidently ahead like that road to the hills. Well, I was young...
Our jobs are our private fantasies, our disguises, the cloak we can creep inside to hide.
My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh. Audiobook [7 hours] narrated by Julia Whalen.
Holy insomnia! Moshfegh writes like a dangerous drug. I was mesmerized by the voice of the main character, a woman in NYC whose plan to escape the world and her emotional pain is to hibernate for a year. Dark, funny and poignant.I counted out three Lithium, two Ativan, five Ambien. That sounded like a nice melange. A luxurious freefall into velvet blackness. And a couple of Trazodone, because Trazodone weighed down the Ambien. Because if I dreamt, I'd dream low to the ground. That would be stabilizing, I thought. And maybe one more Ativan. Ativan, to me, felt like fresh air, a cool breeze, slightly effervescent.
Not that Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture edited by Roxane Gay. Audiobook [9 hours] narrated by 30 different people; each author performs their own work.
The power of a chorus: thirty women and men, straight and queer, from different ethnic backgrounds, have written brief personal essays about their experiences with harassment and assault. On the audiobook, each one is performed by the individual author.Why read or listen to this? To feel less alone. To bear witness. To gain greater understanding of the many emotional responses to rape culture trauma, including rage, fear and silence. To take action.
A good therapist knows you have to live in the house while you remodel. -Claire Schwartz
I wanted to deny that my body is part of who I am, because it had been used against me. -Elisabeth Fairfield Stokes
I am a hard person because hardness is what comes from a life lived underground. -Brandon Taylor.
Our Homesick Songs by Emma Hooper
Emma Hooper's Etta and Otto and Russell and James was a One Book One Edmonton choice three years ago. I wrote about it here. Hooper was born and raised in Edmonton and now lives in the UK. She will be in St Albert for StarFest on October 18, 2018. I plan to see her in Vancouver at the Writers Fest that same week.Our Homesick Songs has a lot of similarities to Michael Crummy's Sweetland: it's lyrical and character-based, it's about our connections to people and to home, and set in a remote Newfoundland island community facing resettlement when the cod are overfished. Differences: Our Homesick Songs has more whimsy; a more uplifting ending; lacks Newfie dialect; and shows a typical life-after-fisheries, working in Alberta's tar sands. I gave 5 stars to both books.
What are you writing?
Music. Violin music.
Aidan stretched out his neck to see over onto the page while still rowing. It was covered in shapes. Each with a number inside. Circles, triangles, squares and diamonds of all different sizes.
I've never seen proper music-writing before, he said.
Oh, neither have I. This is just a way I made up to do it. Each shape is one of my strings and the numbers are a finger and the size is the duration.
I included a different passage when I posted about this book earlier, here.
The Recovering: Intoxication and Its Aftermath by Leslie Jamison. Audiobook [16 hr] narrated by the author.
This audiobook about alcohol addiction is about 16 hours long (the print edition is over 500 pages) and while it sometimes felt like a marathon, I never thought "well, that part could have been edited shorter," even when I recognized stuff from her earlier essays. (I wrote about The Empathy Exams here in 2014.) A combination of memoir and reportage, this story is important and has shifted my world view. I'm impressed.But the accusation of sameness - "just another addiction memoir" - gets turned on its head by recovery, where a story's sameness is precisely why it should be told.
Several years after recovery started changing my mind about cliches, I wrote a newspaper column in their defence. I called them subterranean passageways connecting one life to another, and basically pulled a Charles Jackson, smuggling recovery into my prose, and praising its wisdom, without naming it directly.
Washington Black by Esi Edugyan
After I finished reading this, I thought about it for a long time, pondering whether I would rate it 4 or 5 stars on Goodreads. (That whole star rating business is such a crude tool, of course, but it has its uses for readers.) Anyway, Washington Black seemed so different from Edugyan's Half-blood Blues, which I reviewed here and was a 5-star read for me. Then, I started seeing the similarities between the two: the melancholy mood; lonely characters; racism in different countries; a distinctive first-person narrator; and some improbable plot points. I can see myself rereading Washington Black, so that definitely tips it into 5-star territory. I'm looking forward to seeing Edugyan at the Vancouver Writers Fest in a couple of weeks.
"I do not much care for childhood. It is a state of terrible vulnerability and is therefore unnatural and incompatible with human life. Everyone will cut you, strike you, cheat you, everyone will offer you suffering when goodness should reign. And because children can do nothing for themselves, they need good advocates, good parents. But a good parent is as rare as snow in summer, I am afraid."
I had been warned by Mister Ibel that snow was white and cold. But it was not white: it held all the colours of the spectrum. It was blue and green and yellow and teal; there were delicate pink tintings in some of the cliffs we passed. As the light shifted in the sky, so too did the snow around us deepen, find new hues, the way an ocean is never blue but some constantly changing colour. Nor was the cold simply cold - it was the devouring of heat.
Women Talking by Miriam Toews
An astounding, emotionally resonant novel based on a true story. The group of Mennonite women talking - the voices that create the narrative - have so many things in common with each other: they are three generations of blood relatives, their entire lives have been sequestered within a closed religious community, and they have all been raped. Yet, each person is also clearly a unique individual, each their own mix of smart, funny, thoughtful, impatient, angry or serene. I expected to read about women whose lives are different from mine. I discovered we are the same.I remember how my father, two days before he disappeared, told me that the twin pillars that guard the entrance to the shrine of religion are storytelling and cruelty.
The house are so far apart and there is no electrical light anywhere, inside or out. The houses are small tombs at night.
Mariche can contain herself no longer. She accuses Ona of being a dreamer.
We are women without a voice, Ona states calmly. We are women out of time and place, without even the language of the country we reside in. We are Mennonites without a homeland. We have nothing to return to and even the animals of Molotschna are safer in their homes than we women are. All we women have are our dreams - so of course we are dreamers.
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