JUL - The Neverending Story

July review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2018: The Neverending Story by Michael Ende, translated from German by Ralph Mannheim, 1979. [children's classic published before 1980 category]

The Neverending Story! I grew up on this movie. I wanted a Falkor so bad when I was little, and I used to call my old dog Luck Dragon because she looked pretty similar, if I do say so myself. As I'm sure many a reader of this book was, I was surprised to learn that the 1984 film only covered the first half of the book! Which in all honesty is totally fine with me, because second-half Bastian suuuuuucked. But we'll get to that. The Neverending Story is a book about a small boy named Bastian who is bullied and escapes his tormentors by hiding in a bookshop one day. He meets an old, cryptic man who is sort of mean but leaves a tantalizing book open, and Bastian feels called to it, so he steals it (like you do) and locks himself in the school attic to read all day. (And you wonder why this story appealed to me. Minus the bullying.)

Bastian gets caught up in the story and slowly realizes that him reading the story is part of the story (the original postmodern mindfuck), but can't bring himself to help the Childlike Empress, a fact that they wisely revised in the film. In the book, Bastian gets transported to Fantasia and meets the characters he fell in love with as he ventures. He is gifted with the Childlike Empress's amulet, but using its power comes with a price: he slowly loses the memories he had of being human on Earth. Coincidentally, with the loss of those memories, he sucks more and is ruder and ruder to the people he calls his friends and I was very upset with him. There is clearly some moral coding going on here, as he has to eventually make the decision to return home even though he more and more wants to give up the life he has forgotten and stay in Fantasia as the most powerful thing around.

One thing I loved stylistically about this book was the illuminated alphabet for the chapter titles! There were 26 chapters, and each started with the subsequent letter of the alphabet, illuminated in a full-page illustration that tied into the chapter's narrative. Some of the more difficult letters felt a little stilted, but it was helpful that in a fantasy world you can make up character names that start with X! Another was the repeated intrusion of the Real World into the book, what with phrases like "but that is a long story for another time."

I love stories about stories that take you places, and I did like this book, for the most part. It just dragged on a lot longer than I think it needed to. But who knows, maybe it was better in German!

FEB - Texts From Jane Eyre

February review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Texts From Jane Eyre by Mallory Ortberg, 2014. [book about books category]

Texts From Jane Eyre: And Other Conversations With Your Favorite Literary Characters is, in a word, fantastic. I was gifted this little tome for Christmas a few years ago, and I was delighted to read it, not simply because I love everything Jane Eyre, but also because I love the premise, the idea of translating classic stories into a different storytelling format. Mallory Ortberg is the creator of The Toast, a fantastic erstwhile blog for women that created a safe space for free expression in a relatively oppressive online climate. I am always so in awe of women like Ortberg who have found a way to use their voice to chisel away at the world, something I am still working on. Her creativity and drive are inspirational in a nonstandard sort of path, another idea of one emulation of a writer's life. 

In her book, Mallory Ortberg takes your favorite literary characters (as well as some unknowns) and imagines how their stories would unfold over text. It is a brilliant way to highlight interaction in a digital age, including missed calls and contact searches in the interactions. Some stories I had to look up, while others I could get the gist of without any research of my own--I thought it incredibly interesting how Ortberg distilled each story, finding the salient parts and poking fun at them in their entries. I found myself consistently stifling laughter in public places as I read, unable to contain my glee. For example:

Just, really, so fantastic. But if I were to lay out all the entries I thought to be hilarious, I would be taking pictures of most of the pages, so I will voraciously suggest that you pick up a copy of your own and get to laughing. 

JAN - The Case for Books

January review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: The Case For Books by Robert Darnton, 2010. [nonfiction book about technology category]

Books about books! My favorite! A quick one, this, as I'm not entirely sure how to parse my thoughts, but I want to get this out before the month is done. Start the year off right, you know?

The Case For Books is about reading and writing, past present, and future.  I wanted this book to be excellent, in-depth, and comprehensive, but of course it was published 7 years ago, so it couldn't be that up-to-date. I enjoyed the cover of my edition, the juxtaposition of old bound book and new electronic reader. As an avid reader, this is a juxtaposition constantly close to my heart. 

Darnton wrote a number of essays and tied them together loosely based on the three topics, past, present, and future. starting with the future with an "update" prologue on the future. He has some attractive turns of phrase, and he most certainly knows a thing or two about books, especially the history of publishing and the book trade. That being said, I much preferred his focus on the old rather than the new. The sections on the future were primarily focused around the Google Book Search, and all of them seemed to relay the same information about GBS ad nauseam. I started to get bored with the minutiae. And that is unfortunate, because I do think the future of books and reading is an essential part of our forward propulsion as a society, but it is more than just the Google Book Search. I hope to read an updated opinion on the matter soon, just maaaybe not by Darnton.  

Recap 2016: Year Number Four

Well. Bye 2016. This year was tumultuous in affairs of the heart, rather than the workplace--unlike last year, I'm still at the same job as I was when I started 2016. My 5-year relationship with a man ended and I quickly fell for someone new, a girl who seemed to open up a new part of me that I hadn't really been sure was there. Things ended in flames, I threw myself into roller derby, went to playoffs with my team, and am now happily in a new relationship with a woman whom I'm pretty sure hung the moon. I am extraordinarily, sublimely happy. I have still been reading diligently and thinking a lot, but I have a lot of work to do, and I finally feel like I am in a place where I can confidently step forward and do it. Here's some recap thoughts about my fourth year of eclectic reading, y'all.

The Poet by Michael Connelly
January - serial killer thriller
I started 2016 by going back to a book I had started the year before, which, granted, is not the freshest way to start a new year, but I am relatively stubborn when it comes to finishing books. The Poet was written 10 years prior and I got caught up in the different ways mystery fiction (and the world itself) have changed in a decade. This book intrigued me because it boasted threads of Edgar Allen Poe flair, but it made me incredibly uncomfortable as well, due to the serial killer and the pedophilia. It was the kind of twisty, genre-bending fiction I aspire to someday, and its humility reminded me that such aspirations are possible

The Island of Doctor Moreau by H.G. Wells
February - novel set on an island
Humans are messed upppp. The Island of Doctor Moreau is about a island where a man essentially plays God, cutting and prodding and putting together animals according to his whim. It is a slim classic that I have been telling myself to just devour in a weekend for years, but it has proved difficult to fit in, and this read was no exception. It took me a while, possibly because the outside world seemed more interesting than that of science fiction, but I made it through, and watching the end of this season of Orphan Black was all the richer for it. It is interesting to note, in retrospect, how many of my books were about creativity and possibility and how the human condition can send those things horribly horribly astray, and Doctor Moreau was the beginning of that trend. The doctor, after all, wanted to make something new and different and inspirational, but he was consumed by his madness and it became something dark. 

Somewhere In Time by Richard Matheson
March - paranormal romance
This is a hella angsty book. Richard Collier is in love with an idea of a woman, and is so resolute in his love that he pretty much wills himself back in time to be with her. It is a story of desire, of longing, and above all, of timing. I'd had terrible luck with timing thus far in 2016, certain events not playing out entirely correctly because of impatience or a mismatch in timing. But as hard as those events were, and as angsty a slog as this book was to read, I would not change a single thing about it. It is done and over with, and I have learned, but I am glad that it happened, something I think (I hope) Richard Collier felt toward the conclusion of his lovelorn story. 
Mad, Bad & Sad by Lisa Appignanesi
April - Psychology (non-fiction)
It is possibly (though unintentionally) apropos that I chose to follow the angst and sadness of March and Somewhere in Time with Mad, Bad & Sad. This book offered up a smattering of women in history and how they were diagnosed with various mental ailments, from hysteria to schizophrenia to depression, the ways that their eccentricity and differentness have been received by the world. I buried myself in the history this month, the stories of these women and their woes. I learned new things about women I love, Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf, and I wondered a lot about their sadness and artistry and what it was that made them so alluring. 
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
May - disaster fiction
One of my biggest takeaways from Station Eleven is the idea that art and language and creativity can survive in the face of utter oblivion. A contagion breaks out in the world of Station Eleven, and the book follows various important players and survivors as they prepare for and reminisce about the end of civilization as they know it. Kirsten was a child when disaster struck and she has largely grown up in the post-apocalyptic world, joining a traveling company that recites Shakespeare across the country, reminding everyone of the lasting power of art and words. Important to remember in these last weeks of the Obama administration.
The Secret of Lost Things by Sheridan Hay
June - books about books 
I love books about books. I was very torn about this category. I started at least four options, until I nearly ran out of month to read and had to settle. I wish this had gone more into the mysterious book it sets up, instead of leaving it as a token, a foil to be traded amongst the characters. I still find myself gravitating toward stories about coming into one's own, finding one's own space and passion, and The Secret of Lost Things was certainly that. 
The Mechanical by Ian Tregillis
July - steampunk sci-fi
Free will, fighting back, and the decisions you make are all paramount to The Mechanical, the first in a new steampunk sci-fi series. It felt good to lose myself in a new world, especially one so carefully and eloquently crafted. Jax's journey from duty-bound mechanical servant to free-willed automaton was an engrossing narrative that I am looking forward to following as the next books in the series come out.  
My Lady Jane by Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, and Jodi Meadows
August - Young Adult historical fiction
I really do enjoy when I get to incorporate young adult fiction into my year. Easy reads are just as important as high-flown and intellectual ones, and My Lady Jane was excellent. It was the mostly romanticized and fictionalized version of Lady Jane Grey's nine-day reign as Queen of England, another showcasing of coming into one's own, however supernaturally (Lady Jane realizes she is of a special sect of individuals who can transform into an animal at will). The revisionist history aspect of it made my heart happy, as well, because Lady Jane being executed after nine days of power has always broken my heart. 
The Underground Girls of Kabul by Jenny Nordberg
September - Investigative journalism
I used to want to be something akin to an investigative journalist, but my primary shyness has made that a slightly difficult dream to achieve. The Underground Girls of Kabul tells of girls and women in Afghanistan who dress and live as boys for social benefits, and follows a number of cases, from those who give up their male guise at puberty to those who fight tooth and nail to remain androgynous into adulthood. I was struck by the visceral need to be who you are that the latter example of these people fit into, and it was striking to see into their world, even if I was unsure that I had the right to ask. 
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
October - shortlist for the Man Booker Prize
Once again, we find humans playing God and we end with the undeniable tenet that humans are messed up. Oryx and Crake is slightly more apocalyptic than Island of Doctor Moreau, however, and it involves a premeditated end to the world as a result of the wielding of these powers. Margaret Atwood has a strange psyche, to say the least, but I am rarely disappointed when I take a trip with her. She has a way of laying out humanity that manages to transcend contemporariness to remain relevant for the reader whenever the text is consumed. 
Americanah by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie
November - immigrant experience fiction
In November, this country broke. Our electoral system allowed a racist, misogynistic, xenophobic bigot to ascend to the highest office, and it is galvanizing. I picked up Americanah among other texts to both educate myself and remind myself that I am not alone. Do the work. Observe. Speak out. This is going to be a huge responsibility in the next four years.
Sweetbitter by Stephanie Danler
December - debut author in 2016
I ended 2016 with a debut author's first work, another sort of coming-of-age tale set against a restaurant life backdrop. The poetry of description was as intoxicating as Tess's first year in the city. At the restaurant, they make a big deal about wine, especially its terroir, which is defined as the conglomeration of environmental and contextual situations that make up the character of a wine, and Danler extended this metaphor to suggest that people also have their own sort of terroir, based upon their experiences and history. Sweetbitter was arresting in that regard, asking me what sort of terroir do I have at this point in my life? Is it close to where I'd like it to be? How much more work do I have to get started on?
After all these books, all these pages, all these words, I am surely not the same person I was when I began 2016. My experiences this past year have been heavy and heady and eye-opening, and I feel full. Full of promise, of opportunity, of fight. I say again, goodbye 2016, and I hope that 2017 is not the end of the world as we know it. 

{Link to my 2015 recap ~ Link to my 2014 recap  ~  Link to my 2013 recap }

JUN - The Secret of Lost Things

June review for Eclectic Reader's Challenge 2016: The Secret of Lost Things by Sheridan Hay, 2007. [Book about Books category]

Picking a book about books is possibly the hardest category I've had to do. I only landed on The Secret of Lost Things really because I was down to the wire--past the wire, really--and it was on my To Be Read bookshelf and it seemed perfect. I have difficulty with decisions, ok? As has often happened with this challenge, this book found me exactly when I needed it: The Secret of Lost Things is about a girl who recently lost her mother and packs her life up to move from Tasmania to New York to try to find her way on her own and ends up employed at a strange and labyrinthine book emporium named The Arcade.

Rosemary Savage is young and naive and she makes a lot of mistakes by the end, but she is unabashedly trying to find her place in the world. She works hard for what she wants, even if those things are a little misguided, but she is pretty sublimely unapologetic for most of her decisions. She has experienced such loss, loss of her mother and her home and her country, and she cuts herself loose from the tenuous links she has after that loss to move forward. She is shoved forward by her friend and mother-surrogate Chaps, who buys her plane ticket, but once there she pushes forward on her own. Rosemary creates her own space, makes herself a new home all her own in a little run-down apartment, something that I have been working on for the past few months, making my space my home again after all the shifting I've undergone. Rosemary's description of her new apartment struck me, the timbre of it, talking about surrounding yourself with small things that make you smile to foment an aura of homeliness.

Books about books are possibly some of my favorite books to read. The Shadow of the Wind is one of my all-time favorite books and Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore rocketed to the top of the list as well when I found it a few years ago. I could list all my favorite books about books forever and still have more to talk about. The Secret of Lost Things does fall into this beloved category, and I enjoyed it, but I don't think it will be joining the ranks of my favorites. It had all the makings of a favorite, but somehow failed to deliver.  Being a coming-of-age story as well at heart, it makes sense that not everything was resolved or defined at the end (I did like that parallel), but I thought I'd signed up for a literary mystery and I was left lacking and a little disconcerted at the end. I did love learning about Melville and the possibility of a lost story, and I was excited to do a little research of my own on the matter, but I was left wanting more. I suppose that isn't the worst way to be left at the end of a book, and I am going to funnel that wanting into my To Be Read pile, and thank The Secret of Lost Things for what it gave me when I needed it.