Tuesday, March 21, 2017

MAR - Monday or Tuesday

March review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Monday or Tuesday by Virginia Woolf, 1921. [collection of stories written by a woman]


Virginia Woolf is my favorite. (Fun Fact--my derby name was almost "Virginia Hungry Like The Woolf." But that was too long.) I love when I can discover new things by my favorite authors in conjunction with these prompts, so I was thrilled to be able to read this collection of short stories by Woolf for one of this month's choices. Monday Or Tuesday is a collection of eight stories by Woolf that marks the beginnings of the now-signature Woolf style, published in 1921 before Jacob's Room (1922) and Mrs. Dalloway (1925). It illustrates her discovery of stream-of-consciousness writing and the fluidity of character, each story acting as a sort of example of a type of meandering that she is to explore further in later works. It is notable that this is the only collection of short stories that she published herself.

These eight stories are wonderfully arranged. I think that the way in which they are ordered is essential to mapping Woolf's striving for this new kind of description. The first story, "A Haunted House," spans barely two pages and is relatively straightforward in its traversal. It details a ghost couple moving through the space they once inhabited as living creatures, talking to each other as they observe and think and process. The last story, "The Mark on the Wall," is a fantastic first-person demonstration of stream-of-consciousness, allowing the reader to slip into this woman's sinuous thoughts. It is almost as if through the arrangement of these stories, Woolf is convincing herself of the validity of this new descriptive practice. I, for one, am on board.

Each of the eight stories contains something to delight in, but I think most apropos to me in my current mood is the "delightful, feminist put-down of the male intellect" in "A Society." A group of women were having tea one afternoon, when one of them breaks down because her father, in his will, said that she would not receive her inheritance until she read every book in the London Library (!) and she has discovered that many of them are very, very bad. This revelation causes the women to question everything they know about the fabric of their lives, leading them to create a society meant for asking questions, in order to find out what the world was like. They vowed not to bear another child unto this world until they had all received satisfactory answers from each corner of their investigation. What follows is a savage satire on male bluster and their running of the world. I think Virginia Woolf, if alive today, would be absolutely ruthless in light of current political nonsense, and this story gave me a little hope.

One review I read described this as "Woolf at her liquid best," and I wholeheartedly agree with that characterization. I loved being able to immerse myself in her liquid and not-yet-formed style, rereading paragraphs and reciting them aloud as the words struck me. 

Saturday, March 18, 2017

FEB - When I Was Puerto Rican

February review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: When I Was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago, 1994. [book about immigration or by an immigrant category]


The second February book I chose for Read Harder is When I Was Puerto Rican, by Esmeralda Santiago, as the "book about immigration or by an immigrant" category filler. When I Was Puerto Rican is not your typical memoir: it starts and stays in the author's past, beginning when she was very young, growing up in rural Puerto Rico and following her through her journey to New York. It is told from a very young point of view, never really alluding to the fact that it is reminiscence, and the reader's comprehension--of the world, of Santiago's story--grows as hers does.

In light of today's political climate surrounding immigration, it was interesting to hear an immigration narrative in the voice of someone who doesn't necessarily understand what it means; When I Was Puerto Rican does not boast a self-aware take until the end. Santiago grew up in the 1950s, in the midst of the push for the Americanization of the Puerto Rican territory, with aid groups coming to distribute food to rural villages and teach them about health and nutrition during the election. I needed to do a little reading on Puerto Rico's history as a supplement to Santiago's story, since it was told through her child's perspective, but it was interesting to note the different perspectives and racial divides Santiago notes upon her move to New York, hearing echoes of current pains.

I enjoyed Santiago's writing immensely, though it was simplistic and relatively easy to digest. I loved her inclusion of Spanish, and I would love to read the text in Spanish at some point. 

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

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. 


Tuesday, January 31, 2017

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.  

JAN - Derby Life

January review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Derby Life by Margot "Em Dash" Atwell, 2015. [book about sports category]

Derby Life: A Crash Course in the Incredible Sport of Roller Derby is just that: a crash course. Margot Atwell, also known as "Em Dash" in the derby community (one of my favorite derby names ever), offers a good primer on roller derby, touching a little bit on everything, from derby history to how to get involved with a league, from what sort of things you need to play to how to cross-train for your best derby experience. I contributed to this book's Kickstarter campaign with a few other of my leaguemates a few years back, but I never really got around to reading it. Thank you, reading challenges, for helping me remember gems on my own shelves before I go out in search of others! 

I really enjoyed the Skater Stories section of the book, and I kicked myself through every page for not getting my act together and submitting anything. I've written a few things about derby since I started, some for the league's blog, most recently some playoffs recaps for Derby Central, but for whatever reason I didn't make time for this book. I loved reading the ways other skaters internalized derby and how it came out again through their writing. 

This year marks a big one in derby for me, and I feel as if I'm at a standstill, waiting to see what is wrong with my knee and how long it will take to fix. It was helpful to read through Derby Life from start to finish as a sort of salve for my nerves. Remembering how I began, how I got here, where I can go. Taking deep breaths through the injury section, knowing that my body doesn't feel broken, just overworked, and praying that that's all. I just need the next steps because I've got things to do this season!

Monday, January 9, 2017

2017, Read Harder

It is nearly 1/3 of the way through January, and Shellyrae has not posted a new Eclectic Reader Challenge for the new year. In fact, she hasn't posted on her website in about six months, so I think I will have to decide on a different thing to do this year. I believe I am going to settle on Book Riot's Read Harder Challenge, which is twice as long, 24 books total, and I would adapt it to fit my month-by-month schedule. We'll see how it goes!

Categories:

  1. Read a book about sports.
  2. Read a debut novel.
  3. Read a book about books.
  4. Read a book set in Central or South America, written by a Central or South American author.
  5. Read a book by an immigrant or with a central immigrationnarrative.
  6. Read an all-ages comic.
  7. Read a book published between 1900 and 1950.
  8. Read a travel memoir.
  9. Read a book you’ve read before.
  10. Read a book that is set within 100 miles of your location.
  11. Read a book that is set more than 5000 miles from your location.
  12. Read a fantasy novel.
  13. Read a nonfiction book about technology.
  14. Read a book about war.
  15. Read a YA or middle grade novel by an author who identifies as LGBTQ+.
  16. Read a book that has been banned or frequently challenged in your country.
  17. Read a classic by an author of color.
  18. Read a superhero comic with a female lead.
  19. Read a book in which a character of color goes on a spiritual journey (From Daniel José Older, author of Salsa Nocturna, the Bone Street Rumba urban fantasy series, and YA novel Shadowshaper)
  20. Read an LGBTQ+ romance novel (From Sarah MacLean, author of ten bestselling historical romance novels)
  21. Read a book published by a micropress. (From Roxane Gay, bestselling author of AyitiAn Untamed StateBad Feminist, Marvel’s World of Wakanda, and the forthcoming Hunger and Difficult Women)
  22. Read a collection of stories by a woman. (From Celeste Ng, author Everything I Never Told You and the forthcoming Little Fires Everywhere)
  23. Read a collection of poetry in translation on a theme other than love. (From Ausma Zehanat Khan, author of the Esa Khattak/Rachel Getty mystery series, including The Unquiet DeadThe Language of Secrets, and the forthcoming Among the Ruins)
  24. Read a book wherein all point-of-view characters are people of color. (From Jacqueline Koyanagi, author of sci-fi novel Ascension)

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 }