I say we all carry swords

Zodiac
Robert Graysmith

When I was a young child I used to lie awake at night fearing that some cold-blooded psychopath would come crawling in my bedroom, rope and knife in hand, to torture me to death. This fear haunted me night after night, not letting up until I was nearly in college. (Perhaps reading Red Dragon at ten years old was a bit unwise; it has become the source of both my die-before-I’m-eighteen fear [which has now become the die-before-I’m-thirty fear] and my eyeball fear. Don’t ask. Or perhaps it was The Deliberate Stranger, with Mark Harmon as Ted Bundy. Damn but that movie just sucks you in!) But whatever it was my fascination with serial killers continues to this day, when just last week I happened upon Zodiac and gave it a try.

Zodiac is Robert Graysmith’s account of the so-named serial killer who terrorized California for nearly twenty years. Graysmith was working as cartoonist for the San Francisco Chronicle when the murders began, and he has followed the Zodiac’s steps though what might be as many as fifty murders (nine were official; the Zodiac himself claimed thirty-seven). The Chronicle became a favorite of the Zodiac, who would routinely communicate with through letters sent to the editor. The Zodiac’s use of cryptic codes (some of which have never been decoded) and taunting messages make the Zodiac an interesting study. But what is the Zodiac’s true identity?? And where is he now?

Zodiac?

Graysmith takes a fairly objective stance as he seeks to answer these questions, relating the facts as they became known. One problem with this structure is that relating facts as they became known does not mean events are described chronologically, which causes some confusion. For example, what is considered to be the Zodiac’s first murder was not recognized as such until he had killed a few more times, but this information became confusing when discussed nearly at the end of the events.

While the facts of the case are quite interesting, there were other flaws as well. The author is not without his own biases and some of his theories seem to be at odds with one another. However, if you enjoy abnormal psychology, you will probably enjoy Zodiac.

In a nutshell: Flawed but quite interesting.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

Depressing, yet salacious: Heinrich von Kleist

The Marquise of O-- and Other Stories
Heinrich von Kleist

Although I didn't enjoy Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer as much as others, one good thing did come from my reading it: through it, I found Heinrich von Kleist, a German writer-philosopher of the late-eighteenth/early-nineteenth century whose despair ultimately culminated in his suicide in 1811. In a kind move, he took out Henriette Vogel, dying of cancer, first. Now THAT’S thoughtfulness.

The eight texts (some novellas, some short stories) contained in this collection illustrate several of Kleist’s philosophical ideas: primarily, his distrust in appearances; for him, reality is never as it seems. Kleist’s reality is ambiguous and unpredictable — just when you think you’re safe is right about when the rug will be pulled from beneath your feet. Furthermore, true happiness is impossible to attain — unless, of course, you are either insane or dead. I cannot tell from these stories whether he ultimately believed in God; at best, his is a capricious and whimsical one who enjoys watching his subjects suffer. Far worse than God, however, is his church, which Kleist presents as hypocritical and untrustworthy. Perhaps worst of all is society as a whole, which is harshly judgmental: even in the face of one’s innocence, society remains cold and unmoving, preferring to believe a lie if it means punishing a sin. No wonder the man killed himself.

Cheer up, dog

That’s not to say there is no enjoyment to be gained from reading Kleist. On the contrary, his stories are a testament against complacency, for we never know when the next disaster will strike. More importantly, his stories are fun and even scandalous. The Marquise of O-- (my favorite of the collection) tells of the plight of said Marquise, who, oddly enough, happens to find herself pregnant, despite the fact that she cannot remember doing the deed with anyone. Even better: she ADVERTISES IN THE NEWSPAPER to find the father! Slut!

Better than advertising, and someone gets to dance

In a nutshell: Well written, philosophical, and scandalous.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars

If This Book Doesn't Make You Cry, Your Heart is an Utter Abyss of Blackest Despair

The Time Traveler's Wife
Audrey Niffenegger

Damn you Audrey Niffenegger!!

Damn you for making me cry! Damn you for writing an excellent first novel! Damn you for having a last name I’m afraid to pronounce for fear of sounding like a bigoted asshole!! Damn you for writing an excellent book that deserves every ounce of the praise it's received! Damn you for writing an amazing book that should have been mine! Nevermind I didn't think of it!

Damn you, damn you, damn you!!!

I coulda been somebody

Ok, I'm done now.

I’ve heard a lot about The Time Traveler's Wife. A lot. But when I hear a lot of “Oh my god, you, like, HAVE to read The Time Traveler's Wife, it is SO GOOD” over and over again, it usually means I’ll hate it. Ditto when the cover blurbs proclaim the novel is "a soaring celebration," "beautifully crafted," and "dazzlingly imaginative." So I began The Time Traveler's Wife with some trepidation.

I needn't have worried. The Time Traveler's Wife is intelligent, well written, and beautiful. Yeah, I cried, and what? That doesn't tell you much, though; I've been known to cry at a McDonald's commercial (the one in which an elderly man proves he is still a productive member of society by working the cash register as customers and fellow employees alike smile fondly upon him). Don't judge me.

Back to the novel. Henry DeTamble is a time traveler. It's a genetic condition, one over which he has no control. Stressful situations cause him to lose his grip on the current time. While he has been known to visit his future, he mostly visits (and revisits) moments from his past. When traveling through time, he can take nothing with him, and as a consequence, he finds himself naked and exposed in some unknown where and when.

Such is his condition when his wife, Clare, meets him for the first time, when she is six (although Henry himself is much older and won't meet her himself for over a decade). Sound confusing? It would be, in less-capable hands. Thankfully Niffenegger is quite adept at preventing the logistics of Henry's time travel from becoming a difficult distraction.

Despite all the interest generated by Henry's time traveling, this is ultimately Clare's book, Clare who is defined by her waiting for Henry: as a child, she waits for his next visit; as an adult, she waits for his return. While the novel has its flaws (I'd like more of Clare at the end of the book, and I found some sex scenes a bit unnecessary), I really can't complain about much.

In a nutshell: Well written, funny, thought-provoking.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars

More Fiction for the Attention Impaired

New Sudden Fiction
Robert Shapard and James Thomas, editors

New Sudden Fiction is a collection of short-short stories by various authors from all over the world, some of whom are well known (such as Joyce Carol Oates, Yann Martel, and David Foster Wallace) and some of whom are not (such as Robin Hemley and Peter Orner). Although these stories are not as short as those contained in the flash fiction collection, they are still quite short (short enough to be called “sudden”). There are 60 stories in all, and although it isn’t possible for me to discuss all of them, or even all the ones I really liked (there were simply too many of those), I will briefly touch on my favorites.


My favorite story of them all was David Foster Wallace's (whose Infinite Jest I've just begun, despite the fear the large tome inspires in me) "Incarnations of Burned Children," which provides a glimpse into every parent's nightmare: an overturned pot of boiling water, a crying infant, helpless parents. The story's prose, composed of long, breathless sentences, forces the reader to feel the situation's urgency. This story also contains my favorite line in the entire collection, the best line I've encountered in a while, in fact: "If you've never wept and want to, have a child." See? That's what I've been saying.


A lesser known writer, Katherin Nolte, also explores how one fast action can forever change one's life (as well as the lives of others) in "Before the Train and After," which won the Writer's Digest Short Short Story Competition in 2004. In it, Nolte tells of a man forever altered by a rash decision to reach out and touch a moving train as it roars past. What is a seemingly harmless (though juvenile) act has life-long effects, especially since the train takes off his hand in the process. The loss of his hand causes more than the obvious physical limitations, as Nolte proves.


Further exploring the life-long effects of a rash action (albeit in a fun, humorous way) is Robin Hemley, who breaks from these more serious tales with his contribution to the collection. His "Reply All" is a story told through a chain of emails, one of which was inadvertently sent to a group of people instead of the sole recipient for which it was intended (I'm sure you can see where this is headed). Of course, some very personal secrets are exposed, secrets which cannot be ignored, and why should they be -- everyone else has a chance to reply as well. "Reply All" was the most fun to read and definitely stands as a reminder to always proof your emails before hitting send.

In a nutshell: A great collection for lovers of contemporary short fiction. With 60 stories to choose from, you probably won't like them all, but the majority are well worth the time.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

CD SMACKDOWN 2007

I know this site is about books, but I have purchased some new music lately that I feel compelled to comment on. Who will be the victor of Bibliolatry's CD SMACKDOWN 2007?

In this corner: Maurizio Pollini and Chopin: Nocturnes

I recently purchased Chopin: Nocturnes performed by Maurizio Pollini. I purchased it on iTunes, where each of the 18 tracks was a dollar each. Pricey, I thought, but ultimately worth it, right? I went for the entirety because I love Nocturne No. 1 in B-Flat Minor (Op. 9 No. 1, duh) and I figured they'd all be just as good.

The problem is not with Chopin; rather, it's with Pollini and his HEAVY BREATHING hanging over EVERY song. I feel like I'm right on top of the guy. Did they hang the microphone from his nose? He sounds as though he's blowing and heaving like a horse who's just finished the Derby. Good lord, man. It's so bad I cannot NOT hear it. A good lesson for those who debate whether to first sample a track or just buy the whole damn thing at first. (By the way, he plays beautifully. Too bad I'm too entranced by the huffing and puffing.) Here is a link to Pollini playing Nocturne 8; his breathing is noticeably absent. Absent, or else the camera is too far removed.


In this corner: Tori Amos and American Doll Posse

I'm a big fan o' Tori. The woman can do no wrong. Well, there was Scarlet's Walk. But it's cool, girl - you came back with The Beekeeper! But now there's American Doll Posse. Gone are the days when every song on a Tori cd was amazing. Now there's only have a few. Sigh.

But, in truth, I'm sure she's in a better place now, happily married with a child and all. So that's good. At least when Tori gets all breathy it isn't freaky and distracting. Still, it's hard for me to take this, especially when I still have a brain to remember this. Double sigh.


In this corner: Nine Inch Nails and Year Zero

Ok, so the 90s are over. But Trent Reznor is still a bad muthafucker. To anyone who didn't like With Teeth, I say you must be deaf. Um, hello, "Only"? "Sunspots"??? I rest my case. However, many are saying that Trent is "back" with Year Zero. Okay fine, but I maintain he never left.

Year Zero has everything you ever loved (if you ever did love) Nine Inch Nails. Fun sidenote: I almost died in a NIN moshpit in 2000. True story. Scary stuff. Big Tough NIN Fanguy helped me out. If not for him, I'd not be here today, instead a trampled mess beneath a heap of Doc Martens, heavy eyeliner, and seething angst and rage. So shoutout to Big Tough NIN Fanguy, wherever he may be.

Here's my favorite song off the album. (Yes, I still say album. Whatever.) It's not the video, but you can still hear the song, and for added enjoyment, read the priceless comments at the bottom.

The victor: NIN for its lack of distracting breathing and crappy songs.

Street's like a jungle....Misfortune, by Wesley Stace

Misfortune
Wesley Stace

Misfortune has been described as a combination of Dickens’ Great Expectations (which I don’t mind) and Byatt’s Possession (which I abhor). Other reviews have utterly trashed Misfortune, and I don’t quite know why. I had such fun reading it and hardly noticed the length of about 550 pages. I tore through the book quickly and had a great time doing it. Thank heavens I hadn’t read that Possession comment before purchasing it, or else I might never have picked it up.

Misfortune tells the story of Lord Geoffroy Loveall and his son – no, his daughter. Well, both. Sort of. Lord Loveall, childless and effeminate, is facing the incursion of greedy family members upon his estate. With no heir to hold them at bay, Loveall is dismayed indeed. Thankfully, he happens upon an abandoned baby boy in a garbage heap. Score!

The only problem is that Loveall wants a girl. Never recovering from the death of his younger sister in childhood, Loveall plans to raise the infant in her image of his sister. That pesky sex/gender thing shouldn’t be too difficult to overcome. The infant’s true nature is hidden, and Rose is raised as a girl, believing herself that she is a girl, until, well, puberty. Then things REALLY get interesting. Meanwhile, those nasty relatives have been waiting all the while, ready to pounce to claim what they believe is rightfully theirs. Of course, the truth will out and all that. (And how it comes out is SO entertaining.)

Along the way, Misfortune explores the nature of sex and gender (although, in truth, it doesn’t break any new ground). The novel traces Rose’s entire life, and while a few have labeled some parts as unnecessary, I for one found it impossible to become bored with the tale.

Besides, who doesn’t love a man in drag?

30 days, 4 hours

In a nutshell: Fun, fun, fun!

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Like wow! Authenticity! Remainder by Tom McCarthy!

Remainder
Tom McCarthy

I can’t quite put my finger on why exactly I didn’t like Remainder more. I’ve read several reviews praising its innovation, its “existential Everyman,” its modern assessment of happiness and gratification. And while I appreciate these aspects of the novel and applaud McCarthy’s vision, I simply could not connect with the novel on a meaningful level.

Remainder tells how our nameless narrator, a victim of a never-explained accident in which something fell from the sky and sent him into a coma, spends his settlement of 8 million pounds. How does one begin to spend such a vast sum? Wise investments? Real estate? Charitable causes? Gratification of the senses? Nah. Our narrator will do none of these.

Proving there is no limit to what one can do if only possessed of sufficient funds, he spends untold millions in search of “authenticity.” He seeks to recreate a situation gleaned from the fragments of his memory, of an apartment, a crack in the wall, the smell of liver cooking, a pianist practicing. The narrator feels that this memory is the only time he was ever truly authentic; inside that apartment, “all [his] movements had been fluent and unforced. Not awkward, acquired, second-hand, but natural…[he]’d been real—been without first understanding how to try to be…”

Ironically, our narrator wants to be as “authentic,” as effortless, as Robert DeNiro in Mean Streets, as if every move every actor makes isn’t already full of self-conscious awareness. The narrator, unaware of the stupidity of making an actor as a paragon of authenticity, sets forth on a quest to recreate the above conditions. Like an actor, he repeats scenes over and over again, each time practicing authenticity. His quest becomes an obsession and is finally taken past the point of return.

Remainder is far from perfect; for example, I could have done with a condensed version of the recreation scenes. They are admittedly integral to the novel, yet to me they felt too repetitive, and they weren’t all necessary to get the point across. And why does the only American speak like such a tool? To wit: upon learning of our narrator’s wealth, she responds with, “Like wow! It’s so much money!” After he orders champagne to celebrate, she exclaims, “Wow, champagne!” For real, b?

That’s not to say that the novel doesn’t have its strengths: the prose is well written and is rife with literary allusions, and McCarthy poses some valid philosophical questions as well. And yet, for all its literary play and philosophical posing, I was left ultimately unmoved.

In a nutshell: Intellectually interesting but emotionally cold.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars

Websites and such

My next post will be up soon, but in the meantime, you might be interested in some websites I've been visiting recently:

Bibliolatry is now on Myspace...I know I'm a little late to the Myspace party, but whatever. And there really isn't any benefit to my joining it, except that I have a hot profile song. I don't really like my layout, either, but I suppose that's life. Feel free to friend me so I don't feel like a tool. Oops. Too late.

Booktribes is a fun new book site that has recently gone online. As a new site, some bugs still exist, but it's a nice waste of time when one has lots of work to do but would rather not start yet.

Booksprice.com is kinda like Google for books. Only better. They find the best price on books (and dvds, cds, and games) from major online stores. They've just added a new feature called the "RSS Price Watcher" that allows one to track the price of a specific book using RSS feeds. Happy shopping!

New reviews will be up before you know it. I'm a bit behind, with the approaching summer upon me. New reviews will feature Misfortune by Wesley Stace, Remainder by Tom McCarthy, The Marquise of O-- and Other Stories by Heinrich von Kleist, and Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino. Whew.