Two more!

I'm well into the school year, but before returning to Skidrow, I read Junot Diaz's short story collection, Drown, and The Street of Crocodiles, by Bruno Schulz. Both were phenomenal. I'm out.

Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson

I completely forgot; I finished this book a few weeks ago. In fact, I remember avoiding logging it on here--mostly because I wasn't sure what I would say. Housekeeping came highly recommended from friends and family, and I was looking forward to the beautiful command of language everyone claims Robinson has. For me, it was a bit of a slough to get through, simply because of the total lack of plot or forward motion, but some passages were, indeed, endowed with an unbelieveable grace and beauty. I agreed with the critic who felt as if Robinson had been storing up material for the novel her entire life. It is, in it's own way, a kind of masterpiece, but I'm not sure if I appreciated it as much as others I'd heard from (including Nick Hornby) were able to. Gilead was on my to-read list as well; maybe I will give Marilynne Robinson another shot.

The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Michael Chabon

I wanted to read The Mysteries of Pittsburgh the minute I finished Michael Chabon's recent nonfiction collection, Maps and Legends. My usual taste in debut novels runs averse to post-graduation coming-of-age tales, but I found Chabon's to be entertaining without the usual trite-ness of the genre. It definitely helped that the copy the library held for me was one of HarperPerennial's much-adored Olive editions:

The story, involving the Pittsburgh Jewish mafia, a mysterious Cloud Factory, and party scenes that echo The Great Gatsby so vividly that I was unsurprised to learn that Chabon had read F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel immediately before writing his own, runs a bit into the territory of the fantastical. Art, the protagonist, is dealing with such powerful issues--his bisexuality, his relationship with his mobster father, the death of his mother--in such a haphazard way that the novel never risks entry into the gooey, mushy arena of the typical coming-of-age story. Essentially a good book about summer, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh might be the perfect book to round out my past four months of reading.

I'm starting The Street of Crocodiles and Other Stories before returning to Skidmore, and I hope to get farther into it than I did when I began it in April. Until then...

Voices from the Storm: The People of New Orleans on Hurricane Katrina and Its Aftermath

As ashamed as I am to say it, this oral history, Voices from the Storm, is something I'd usually never pick up at a bookstore, and the only reason I got it was because it was on sale for $5.00 at Timothy McSweeney's garage sale. Once I received my copy, however, the stories absorbed me within the first ten pages. The meticulously edited interviews with fourteen survivors of Hurricane Katrina--young, old, single, mothers of nine, black, Arab-American, American Indian, white--were compelling not just for the stories they were telling but also the way in which those interviewed spoke. Many of the interviewees' very poor education hadn't even equipped them with the vocabulary to describe the atrocities they witnessed. The surprising variety of their stories amazed me also: one man, after weeks of rescuing neighbors and strangers, was arrested and held in jail without bond or a phone call under suspicions (unfounded and racist) of terrorism. (For more on this man Abdulrahman Zeitoun, explore Dave Eggers' recent work of nonfiction, Zeitoun.) Many families were stuck in New Orleans' infamous housing projects; one man was wrongfully imprisoned for a traffic violation the night before the storm hit and was trapped inside his cell when guards abandoned the prisoners. Each story is affecting in its own way, and definitely allowed me to better understand the magnitude of the suffering Katrina--and, to a large extent, the U.S. government--inflicted upon hte residents of New Orleans.

Maps and Legends: Reading and Writing Along the Borderlands, Michael Chabon

My dad gave me Maps and Legends because he'd read The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (an essential for next summer's reading list) and loved Michael Chabon's prose style. I did too--at first his unbelieveably long sentences and the occasional archaic word threw me, but I soon adapted and grew to admire the individuality of his writing. Maps and Legends is a collection of essays--Chabon's first--and one worth reading. The collective theme of the book lies in its subtitle; Michael Chabon is writing in defense of borderlands from literary to ethnic, on which he writes remarkably well, considering his passion for both genre literature and his Jewish heritage. The collection inspired me to add Chabon's first novel, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, to both The List and the hold shelf at the library; I hope to continue my foray into Michael Chabon's writing.

The Immoralist, Andre Gide

I picked up The Immoralist a few years ago at the Brown Elephant and have been looking forward to reading it for a while. It was published in France in 1902, and was extremely controversial for what the back of my Penguin classic edition deems its "frank defense of homosexuality." A short novel, The Immoralist is narrated by its protagonist in the form of a monologue to the narrator's friends. I expected it to be much more thrilling that it turned out to be, but I suppose that is the fault of the time at which it was published. Still, it didn't engage me; it felt dry and monotonous. I should have known that if Gide published it and went on to win the Nobel Prize in 1947, it wasn't going to be any Queer as Folk. One can always hope...

Indie bookstore #3

Bookworks
3444 N. Clark
Chicago, IL
(773) 871-5318

In pursuit of my books for classes next month, I've been searching used bookstores near and far and went into the heart of Wrigleyville this past weekend to a recent favorite of mine: Bookworks. Not atypical of an urban used bookstore, Bookworks is cramped--and crammed--but they have a wonderful selection and a helpful and friendly staff. They buy used books, sell CDs, are open late, and are in a great, stimulating location in the Lakeview neighborhood. (If you're looking for a snack, head a block south on Clark to Pick Me Up, my favorite all-night cafe and diner.) I wasn't able to find the rare-ass books my professors have assigned, but I enjoyed a rainy Saturday morning much more than I would have at home.