Sunday, July 02, 2006

Howevermany Books Challenge Round-up #2

So I suppose, after four months, and in the middle of a four day weekend, it's probably time for another 2006 reading list update. I imagine I might miss a few, borrowed books, library books that have since been returned, etc; also, the exact order may be a bit mixed up. But that's okay. I'll fake it, if I have to.

Why run through this seemingly elitist exercise every couple (or more) months? It's an excuse for myself to keep a running tally of what I've read during the year, because I've grown curious about keeping track of such things, because I feel it helps to lodge books better in my memory. And by doing it this way, I don't have to edit the blog's sidebar code every single time I finish a book. (Which I imagine non-Blogger blogging software platforms might make easier, which is more reason for me to consider jumping ship at some point, someday, maybe, when I cure myself of my laziness.) It's an excuse to think back on some of the books I've read, to see what's risen or fallen in my mind over time. I guess there's the possibility that seeing the order in which I've read books might be illuminating, but I kind of doubt it. There's also the opportunity to say a word or two about books that might have fallen through the cracks, and in today's case, it's an excuse to set some things straight between you and me, namely regarding the potentially misbegotten belief that all I do all day is read smart-people books and think highly of myself for being such a smartypants smart-people's smart person mcsmartsalot Smartstone von Smartborgenson. It's a chance to maybe make up for nearly two weeks worth of slow blogging with a huge lump sum payment, which maybe nobody will read anyway but at least I'll feel better about myself for it. Also, while cowering in sight of the behemoth that is my To Be Read pile (which has actually now been moved to a new bookshelf, and is in fact now even neater than it was to Sam's eyes, and of which photos are certain to surface on this blog sometime in the near future), Jen wondered just how fast a reader I actually am; in answer to her question I can say that no, I definitely do not, in fact can not, read that many books in a month, or perhaps even in a year. Yeah, I can safely acknowledge that if in any given timeframe I do maybe read more books than many people do, it's not so much because I'm a fast reader, but more because I'm devoted to spending lots of my free time reading books, typically to the exclusion of other activities, like socializing in bars, doing laundry, or sleeping, which, ultimately, makes me sort of lame, and therefore, not an object at all worthy of anybody's envy or self-comparison.

Finally, it remains my firm opinion that for the community of readers, all the reviews and critiques and criticisms in the world don't mean jack squat crap in the face of an enthusiastic recommendation from a fellow reader whose likes and dislikes and interests are similar to your own. So let these round-ups be my way of helping you decide whether or not you think my future suggestions are worth your attention. If they are, welcome. If not--no harm, no foul.

Wow. That sounded way more dramatic than I intended.

A'el. Anyway. Here's some books. I liked some of them a lot.


  1. Francine Prose, Blue Angel.

    Though I have admired, enjoyed, and largely enthusiastically agreed with the couple reviews/essays of hers I've read, I just don't think her fiction is meant for me. It's something about theory vs. execution, I guess.


  2. Kazuo Ishiguro, When We Were Orphans.

    It's true: I am a sort-of raving Ishiguro fanboy. (Also.)


  3. Stephen Koch, The Modern Library Writer's Workshop.

    Cause for one of my finest blog headlines ever. Also I think I need to re-read this one very soon, and that it's very important I do so, since I've pretty much given up on the writing front recently; I say pretty much because I know I can't give up, not really, but the outlook (and my own sense of devotion) sure feels bleak right now. Not really writing at all for two months will do that. On the upside, I've lost a little weight. So maybe someday I can at least be a skinny failure.


  4. Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go.

    It was a must-read after I read it last year. It remained a must-read after I re-read it this year. Easily one of my favorite books. Hand me a flagpole, and I'll raise this book on it, and wave it around in the air, like I just don't care. It's that good.


  5. William T. Vollmann, The Ice-Shirt.

    A bit of a Vollmann debate broke out recently in the blogosphere when Levi Asher at Lit-Kicks called Vollmann overrated and Edward Champion and Scott Esposito rushed in for the defense.

    Thinking back on the (relatively little) Vollmann I've read this year, Europe Central and The Ice-Shirt, I think I'm currently placing myself somewhere in the middle of the opinion spectrum. (A reasonable but honestly dull and safe place, I'll admit.) While there are portions of Europe Central that will hold up well against anything in your collection--namely what I referred to in my post-read summary as a "loose trilogy of chapters sort of in the middle", a chunk of the book which, were it to be published as a separate novella or story collection, I would recommend without pausing to inhale--there really is a hell of a lot of muck to get through to get to the good stuff.

    It's true, as Jeff suggested, that I need to read some of Vollmann's non-historical stuff. Without doing so it's probably not fair for me to make grand pronouncements about the guy. But I'll tentatively go ahead and say anyway that Vollmann is, honestly, a smart person kind of writer, the kind of guy who only lit elitists might be bothered enough by to bother with. Even though, at times, he really does deserve a far wider readership than he might currently have. He sure doesn't make it easy for someone like me to recommend him to casual readers, though.

    Paradoxical? Yes. I guess he just troubles me and challenges me and I look forward to reading more of his stuff. Someday. And while there's books in my collection I'd hand you before any of his books, I wouldn't block your way if you decided to go for the Vollmann, instead.


  6. Stephen Dixon, Tisch.

  7. Stephen Dixon, Gould.

  8. Stephen Dixon, I.

    Stephen Dixon is also a little paradoxical, maybe, in that, I'll suggest, he really is far more of a "popular" type of writer than he may initially seem to the casual reader, far more humane and interested in humanity and the human condition and communicating to you and with you about that condition than his frankly sometimes awkward prose style and sentence structures and plot outlines and surface concerns and endless repetition and alternate versions of events and his lists and his ands might indicate, and that for the whatever and ever smart-people-book-like trappings of his books his work should be enjoyed by many, many more people than it currently is.

    And while I would not suggest any of the above three books as a starting place for anyone interested in reading some Stephen Dixon--Interstate remains the book I'd press firmly into your open hand without hesitation, because it is essentially incredible and harrowing and plain-spoken and complex and fantastic and almost obscenely depressing in its very nature--I'd say that the way immersing oneself in the various writings of a single author can be richly rewarding is especially true of Dixon, whose writing, when quickly glanced at, might seem sort of samey, is really more varied and intricately and individually textured than might be immediately apparent. I'm not saying every sentence of his drips with honey, but I wouldn't hesitate to suggest his books have features in common with bee hives.

    Has my opinion grown with time and retrospect? Yeah. Will I continue to work my way through his back catalogue? *shake shake* All six books on my TBR pile point to "Yes".


  9. Dave King, The Ha-Ha.

    I liked this book. And I'm remembering now the reading Dave gave here a couple months back. I'm also remembering his description of the book he's working on now. I'm thinking now I'm looking forward to reading that next book when it comes out.


  10. Allegra Goodman, Intuition.

    Left me feeling sort of muddled. It's probably not a good book to read if you really like mice. Did make me want to buy a lab coat. Uhm...uhm.


  11. Philip Roth, Everyman.

    Read it in a day. Found it painful.


  12. Mary Doria Russell, A Thread of Grace.

    I never said anything about this one after I finished it, which is a shame, because it was a good and thought-provoking book, and I really wish I had a better record of at least some of my thoughts about it. If you are interested in historical fiction, and my thoughts about Vollmann have scared you away from his stuff, I'd say Russell's book would be a good one to add to your reading list. I wasn't truly in love with all of it, but what I liked I did like quite a bit. The structure's a bit beguiling at times, but there's a rather brilliantly painful bit near the end that will stick itself in your skull and stay there for a while. You won't want it there, but it's good it's there, because it should be there, I'll say.

    That said, I do want to read her other books. Eventually.


  13. Dan Brown, The DaVinci Code.

    I...uhm...see, it's like...then...there was...this...and...stuff...and...

    Oh, hell with it: I enjoyed this book, and screw you if you think less of me for that. Why?

    Because there's nothing at all wrong with a decent piece of popular fiction.

    Because even the finest libraries have restrooms where even the smartest people have to go poop.

    Because Audrey Tatou is really cute, no matter what type of movie she's in.

    Because this book wouldn't be such a thorn in the sides of so many people if people on both sides of the "opinion debate" surrounding it weren't for some reason taking it all so bloody damned seriously.

    Because if people could stop calling it "factually wrong" long enough to think about it, they'd realize it's really not so uninteresting as a piece of alternate history fiction.

    Because if it wasn't for big plain dumb fun pieces of "popular fiction"--the space operas of David Brin, the thriller novels of Dean Koontz, the horror novels of Stephen King--I would not today be interested in literature.

    Because I said so.


  14. George Saunders, The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil.

    I wasn't too crazy about this one. . . . . .


  15. Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes From Underground.

    I kicked off my Summer of Dostoevsky project with this one, which I'd last read about eight years ago. I don't think I got it that first time. I don't think I got it this time, either, though I know I was better equipped to deal with it this time, by which I mean more willing and able to read a book for what's on the page rather than what I want there to be on the page. I will probably read it again before the summer's over.


  16. Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Gambler.

    I think I was drunk when I read it. Or just tired. Or something.


  17. Richard Ford, The Sportswriter.

    Strangely, though I honestly enjoyed the book, I feel no compelling urge to read the sequel. Can someone tell me: is Independence Day better? Is it more-of-same? What's the selling point here? Am I weird for sort of feeling like it's just not a high priority for me to read the next book?


  18. Flann O'Brien, The Third Policeman.

    Pretty much what I said then. I keep forgetting to press this into the hands of my Lost group, though.


  19. Yannick Murphy, Here They Come.

    I sort of keep forgetting that I read this.


  20. George Saunders, In Persuasion Nation.

    . . . . . .but damn if I didn't totally adore most all of the stories in this Saunders book.


  21. Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment.

    I just finished it today. Every bit as relevant today as it's ever been. I'll have more to say about it once I shake off the spell it's had me under for the last month. (I spent far too long reading it. Not good for the ol' mental and emotional health.)

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

{{Can someone tell me: is Independence Day better?}}

No. Equally as bad.

Anonymous said...

Re: Vollmann. I think it takes a while for anyone to get acclimated to his style, but once you get accustomed to it, it is loaded with rewarding observations about some of the most overlooked topics in fiction. I recommend "The Rainbow Stories" or "The Atlas" as good contemporary places to start.

And, yes, "Independence Day" is far more fleshed out, with some interesting observations on race and economics and the generation gap -- and how all of this inadvertently ties into growing older. The last sentence is a jaw-dropper!

Anonymous said...

Jeff: Really? I'm curious. What are your thoughts on the Rabbit Angstrom books? I have to say that Richard Ford is one of the FEW writers who makes upper middle-class male anxiety fresh to my alternatively attuned ears.

Anonymous said...

Hey Ed, I'm not the biggest Updike fan either, but I prefer him to Ford by a mile. I even wrote to Levi to tell him that I thought Ford was the most overrated writer going these days. Like most, he has his moments, but for me it wasn't sustained and I could hardly wait to get to the end of both of those novels, which I read for a class or otherwise would have put them down much sooner.

I agree on "The Rainbow Stories." Even "Whores for Gloria" or "The Royal Family." The historical works of V. aren't the best place to start, IMO.

Darby M. Dixon III said...

H'rm. I'm interested now in the race aspect of ID. It felt like Sportswriter sort of wanted to say something about race, but never quite got to it.

I guess I'm sort of obligated to read Updike someday, huh?

And re: Vollmann--I've got Fathers & Crows sitting over on the shelf but it's definitely waiting until after I get to Rainbow Stories sometime. Or whatever non-historical novel happens to be on the next bookstore shelf I see.

Barry said...

I wish you'd come back to finish what you started to say about The Third Policeman, as your thoughts at the time seemed a little, um, incomplete. I'm on a bit of a Flann O'Brien jag at the moment, as I'm supposedly writing a dissertation on The Third Policeman.

Darby M. Dixon III said...

Barry: Yeah, my thoughts are often pretty incomplete. But I'll see what else I can think of to say sometime soon. Any particular questions or anything? I'm totally open to (and probably wind up sounding slightly more intelligent with) some prompting. I'd certainly be interested in your thoughts on the book.

mary grimm said...

I found the Stephen Koch book pretty helpful in getting out of a long spate of writer's block--not so much any particular thing he said, but just the steadiness and confidence of his approach.
On Independence Day, I liked it OK when I read it, but it's entirely forgettable in comparison to some of his great short stories.

Anonymous said...

sorry to have missed the kerfluffle...

Nice list, thanks v. much! And i bet WtV would be pleased to hear that his strategy is paying off re: '...He sure doesn't make it easy for someone like me to recommend him to casual readers, though.'

Of course, i don't really know many casual readers, and i imagine it's the same with you. my favourite book of his is RURD in it's full messy glory. His best folly, no doubt,; but i read the McS's version with the great pictures and so often felt that utter *grok*ing you can sometimes experience when connected...

history wise, i am looking forward to the Thunder-Rolling-Down-The-Mountain book.

Crime & Punishment has so many incredible but searingly real and contemporary themes--i still can't lose the image of the poor equine sacrrifice.

so thanks again for a v.good blog...