Books of the Month: June 2008

Dear Readers,
Let me delight you with book review haiku for books I read in the month of June. I accept all blame for any syllabic miscounts. And by "book review," I really mean "book report."

The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (John Le Carre)
Classic spy fiction
Driven by logic and twists
Berlin is so cold

Gilead (Marilynne Robinson)
Biblical old man
Writes long letter to young son
Full of pithy prose

The Gravedigger's Daughter (Joyce Carol Oates)
Woman runs from past
In epic family saga
Set in New York State

Mister Pip (Lloyd Jones)
White man teaches girl
To love Great Expectations
Even during war

The Secret History (Donna Tartt)
Murder and mayhem
At a New England college
What does "evil" mean?

So Long, Friendster

After nearly five years together, Friendster and I have decided to call it quits on our relationship. It was really awesome in the beginning. You could see pictures of friends and read about their hobbies and favorite books. You could even post testimonials about your friends for the reading pleasure of their other friends. And thus began my love affair with social networking. It's pretty addictive. I was so devoted to adorning my little Friendster profile.

So yeah, about a year ago I started seeing someone else. And that's been awesome. We're pretty serious now, and I've settled in with 158+ friends and a handful of assorted hot apps like Scrabulous and SuperPoke! (not necessarily as dirty as it sounds). Friendster, I used to love you. I used to defend you. I was loyal and faithful for so many, many years despite your lack of fun interactive features and incredibly slow load time. (But I'll admit I briefly strayed to the dark side but called that affair off about a day later when I received one too many come ons from pimply teenage boys.) But lately, you just kinda sucked and continued to suck. I know you said you'd work on it, you'd change. You'd try harder. But I was embarrassed to be seen with you in public. Don't worry baby, it's not you. It's me. So that's why, after this long separation (we haven't had "relations" in nearly a year), I finally ended our tumultuous half-decade love affair. Friendster, you didn't make it easy for me. You asked "Why?" And "Did your friends also leave me?" And "Who are you getting your social networking groove on now?" So nosy, Friendster! And so long.

Books of the Month: May 2008

Dear Readers,
The sun came out a few days in May and the thermometer even got above 60 now and then. Needless to say, I didn’t read as much this past month as I do during Seattle’s rainy season. But I managed to squeeze in some non-fiction and a couple of Man-Booker Prize winners. It’s not like I wasn’t reading, I just wasn’t reading as much (*= checked out from the library).

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life* (Barbara Kingsolver)
I admit it. I’ve never read Kingsolver’s fiction, but I’m planning to now. This is a wonderful book. Whereas Michael Pollan’s much-hyped Omnivore’s Dilemma has a very strong anti-hero (corn), Kingsolver’s work has several minor heroes (asparagus, heirloom tomatoes, homemade yogurt, family farmers, etc.). Both books encourage readers to think more critically about the food industry and become more ethical eaters. But Kingsolver’s message was a little easier to swallow and much more inspirational. And the asparagus and mushroom bread pudding recipe? Delightful!

The Remains of the Day* (Kazuo Ishiguro)
This was my second Ishiguro experience. The setting, characters, and theme were completely different than Never Let Me Go. But while reading this, it became quickly apparent that Ishiguro is the true master of the sad, slow reveal. He has an amazing, heartbreaking formula behind his writing. And I’ll never look at butlers the same way again.

Brother, I’m Dying (Edwidge Danticat)
For the second time in one month, I found myself reading a writer’s nonfiction without having previously read her fiction. After reading Mountains Beyond Mountains in March, I wanted to continue learning and thinking about Haiti. Danticat’s memoir–a story of her father and the uncle who helped raise her–is a powerful, political, and deeply-wrought emotional experience. A nice meditation on themes of immigration, exile, and family.

The God of Small Things (Arundhati Roy)
Why didn’t I read this book sooner? Complex characters and difficult themes, together with beautiful prose, make this a highly-compelling book. I was simultaneously drawn in and revulsed by the story of Indian twins Estha and Rahel, and their family struggles and secrets. Roy tackles a lot of hard issues regarding race, caste, family, love, and sexuality. I probably shouldn’t have read it on the bus; this book deserves a close, attentive reader.

What Now?* (Ann Patchett)
Having read all of Patchett’s other books (fiction and non), I was curious to read this piece. It’s an extended version of a graduation speech Patchett gave at her alma mater, Sarah Lawrence College. I’m glad I got it from the library rather than shelling out 15 bucks for this quick read. The text is padded out with random photos and the content, though lovely, is pretty standard college graduation speech material. Fun fact: the vice president’s mansion in Bel Canto (my favorite Patchett book and also my favorite book about opera and/or hostage situations) is modeled off of Sarah Lawrence College’s president’s home.

Bee Season (Myla Goldberg)
I didn’t realize that I was reading Bee Season during the real bee season until today. This started out as a freakishly charming portrait of a spelling bee champion and her family, but I felt the second half a little outlandish and out of place. Nevertheless, I’m reminded of my own spelling bee foibles. It was fourth grade. It was the final round. And in my excitement and haste, I spelled recipe with an S, thus losing the biggest contest of my young life to Tiffany W. Readers, what’s your spelling Achille’s heel?

Where I Was From II: Idol Edition

Hot hot breaking news! I recently learned from a TV-loving co-worker that while I had my nose buried in books this spring, a boy from my hometown, David Archuleta, has become a national celebrity via the fifteen minutes of fame machine that is American Idol.

Murray, Utah. Now that's where I'm really from.