This Week in Books is Rather Slow...

As I mentioned recently, Facebook has a book club; not surprisingly, the first "meeting" did not go well, due largely to Facebook's algorithms, which did not display comments or questions in any kind of logical order. By the way, if the idea of online book clubs intrigue you, I highly recommend The Atlantic's version, 1Book140.

The American Scholar put together a list of neglected novels that ought to be considered "classics." I strongly agree with the Elizabeth Gaskell pick; just this week I read an essay in which Gaskell was carelessly tossed aside for being less great than Jane Austen. No one is as great as Jane Austen, and Elizabeth Gaskell was a terrific writer.

The Shortlist for the 2015 Tournament of Books has been announced (actually it was out a few weeks ago, I just wasn't paying attention). I've only read one book on the list, but I've got Elena Ferrante's first Neapolitan novel and Station Eleven on the Kindle. Winners will be determined in March.

The Bookhive List: 'Going Clear' by Lawrence Wright

I love non-fiction and I spend plenty of time reading it, especially biographies, but it's pretty rare for a work of non-fiction to crack my favorite books list. "Favorites" to me are books I absolutely loved, highly recommend to anyone who will listen, and read over again, and Going Clear has achieved two out of three and is well on its way to repeat readings in the coming years.

Rather notoriously, this book is partially to blame for the Paul Haggis break from the Church of Scientology, as well as a very controversial HBO documentary. It is as much a biography of L. Ron Hubbard as it is an exploration of the Church of Scientology, and Hubbard bios not endorsed by the Church are few and far between, making this a really essential book. It is so thoroughly researched and elegantly written and it will make you marvel at the sheer accomplishment of putting together a book this demanding.

The Bookhive List is a weekly recommendation of my all-time favorite, must-read books.

Big Fat Book: 'War and Peace' Week 2

I've made a very respectable dent in my first week with War and Peace, reaching the 100-page milestone last night. My initial thought is that this will not fit into my normal reading routine the way I had hoped; in a normal week, I read when I feel like it, and somehow I manage to transform it all into a blog. But there is no way I'm going to get through War and Peace without being much more deliberate. I made it all the way to Sunday night without even cracking the thing open, although I did find that it makes the perfect prop for my Kindle when I'm watching 'Gilmore Girls' in bed. In the end, the only way I managed to conquer those 100 pages was to set aside specific, uninterrupted time to read, and I had to neglect my usual TV habits, which is tough in January when there is so much great TV. The saddest thing of all is that those 100 pages were not easy, and as a result I haven't picked up any other book all week, which is not sustainable. I think it's going to take a few weeks to find a War and Peace routine that works for me.

On a more positive note, I absolutely love the novel thus far. It's not super surprising because I loved Anna Karenina and I've enjoyed more Napoleonic history than the average person.  The narrative thrusts the reader into several existing, high-stakes conflicts (inheritances, engagements, husbands going to war, etc.) from the very beginning so it's not hard to get "into" the book. As much as I loved Anna Karenina, I definitely struggled with those very long passages on Russian agrarian politics, and at close to 1200 pages, I suspect War and Peace will have some of the same, but thus far it's been very compelling, engaging narrative and charming characters.

What I'm Reading: 'Breath, Eyes, Memory' by Edwidge Danticate

This lovely wisp of a novel came to me at just the right time -- I had just finished Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson, and although Breath, Eyes, Memory is not a memoir, it is particularly autobiographical fiction and is narrated by a young woman who experiences a dramatic relocation as an integral part of her coming of age. In this case, Sophie Caco moves from her native Haiti to New York City.

I love books about relocations like this because when I was sixteen my family moved from small-town Alaska to southeast Michigan, which was an enormous cultural shift for me. In some ways it feels very insignificant because at sixteen, I felt very fully-formed and mature, and only two years later I went away to college, so in a way it just feels like one elongated, natural transition from adolescence to adulthood. But in other ways it feels like a major and formative turning point in my life because it probably dramatically changed the outcome of that transitional period.

I certainly wouldn't assert that I share much in common with either Edwidge Danticat or Jacqueline Woodson's experiences, but I really enjoy reading about something I experienced through so many different perspectives.

The Bookhive List: 'Brideshead Revisited' by Evelyn Waugh

It seems appropriate that my inaugural post for The Bookhive List is on Brideshead Revisited in the same week that I put together a 'Downton Abbey' inspired reading list. I was very tempted to put Brideshead on that list, but I decided to save it for The Bookhive List because in my life, it is canon.

A part of me hates to recommend it in January, because it is such a late summer book, so if you're feeling inclined put it on the very bottom of your TBR list and wait for August to come around before picking it up. It's a novel to be read while lying in a hammock with a glass of chilled white wine.

The name 'Brideshead' refers to a fictional English manor house, and as the novel begins, the house has been overtaken by the British Army in the midst of World War II. Charles Ryder, the narrator and Army Officer, is revisiting the house for the first time in many years and takes the reader through his tempestuous relationships with Julia and Sebastian Flyte, two siblings whose aristocratic family owned Brideshead. If you enjoy a good homoerotic romp through Oxford culture in the 1930s, then this is the book for you. If you enjoy long, drawn-out descriptions of really over-the-top food and beverages, then this is also the book for you. And if you prefer your hetero relationships to be shallow and affectionless, you have found your book. There's also some intense Catholic stuff in the vein of Graham Greene.

Finally, once you've savored this beautiful novel, set aside ten hours of your life to watch the BBC miniseries adaptation starring a very young Jeremy Irons. There is a more recent film version that is less good, but it does star Emma Thompson.

The Bookhive List is a weekly recommendation of my all-time favorite, must-read books.

Big Fat Book: 'War and Peace' Week 1

As I alluded in my Reading Resolutions post last week, you can expect more posts on extremely long, heavy, doorstop quality book in the coming year. Even as recently as last night, while I blazed through a short, excellent novel, I questioned my motivation for this undertaking. I read constantly and I generally feel that I read "enough," so that's not the reason. I'm also someone who gets an immense amount of satisfaction from finishing a book and crossing it off a list, so a 1,000-page novel is not the most efficient way to satisfy this need. 

Part of it is certainly an ego thing; I consider myself to be well-read and I even take the time to maintain a blog about my reading habits, so I'm going to read the books that I know I, of all people, should be reading. I've also had the good fortune of generally being really pleased with any long novel I've taken the time to finish, so I don't feel like I'm undertaking something completely unpleasant. And finally, I have always read many different books at once, so by committing to a long novel, I'm not necessarily giving up all other, shorter books in the meantime; I'll just be spending less time with those.

I kicked around a few different ideas before finally settling on War and Peace. I've never read Atlas Shrugged and I sort of want to, but I don't want anyone to mistake me for an actual, literal Ayn Rand fan. I also thought about Infinite Jest, but in some ways it feels wrong to undertake such a modern behemoth when there are many older, canonical books still going unread by me. I read Anna Karenina with my book club two years ago and really loved it (more on that in a future post), and as far as extremely long classics go, War and Peace is definitely genre-defining. Plus it's cold and snowy outside, so a Russian novel seems more appropriate than, say, In Search of Lost Time, which feels very springy to me. Maybe I'll take on that challenge if me and War and Peace make it through winter together. If nothing else, I'm motivated by the fact that the enormous novel is essential to the structural integrity of a half-full bookshelf designated for Russian literature (half-full because I hate Russian literature but feel a sense of obligation to keep trying).

I hope some of you will be equally motivated and try reading along with me. Expect a post on War and Peace every Wednesday until I finish it (even if that means I have to write a post in which I admit I read none of it because I had too many episodes of 'The Fosters' to get caught up on).

What I'm Reading: 'God'll Cut You Down' by John Safran

This book was on my radar in late 2014 and just by chance my reserved copy from the library came along at just the right time, so it's officially my first deviation from #ReadWomen2014. I have nothing profound to say about the difference between books by men and books by women; I read many great books in 2014, and I expect I will read many more in 2015, regardless of the gender of the author. What I will say is that this one reminded me of how pleasurable it can be to browse and select a random book, your long to-be-read list be damned.

This book is far from perfect -- John Safran comes across a bit as the Australian equivalent of Michael Moore, and if I had known anything about his television career, I probably wouldn't have picked this up. It is a heavy-handed as a true crime book can be, with Safran very self-consciously thinking about his role in the pantheon of true crime writers like Truman Capote. Granted, he does this with self-effacing charm, but there is a decided cuteness to the whole thing, and if you dislike Safran's personality, you'll truly hate the book because he is as large a character as anyone else.

One other complaint -- I had a hard time stomaching comments on race in America (the true crime in question is the murder of a White Supremacist in Mississippi) coming from an Australian. It's very easy to be cynical and sarcastic about race in the Deep South, which is obviously ridiculous, but I found his outsider perspective to be unwelcome. It felt like a big piece of the puzzle was missing because of Safran's inability to understand or contextualize something so deeply rooted in our national psyche, although he certainly tried. 

This sounds like I haven't enjoyed the book, which is definitely not the case. I swallowed it down in a few sittings and I couldn't really read it fast enough. I find that the characters have really stuck with me more than I ever could have anticipated, and I was surprised by how much it made me laugh. 

Bookhive's 2015 Reading Resolutions

I make New Years resolutions every year, but I generally try to go easy on myself. I'm not looking to give up caffeine or lose 50 pounds; normally I pick a few things I'd like to learn, a few dishes I've always wanted to try cooking, and some books I know I want to read. It's nice to start the year with some intentions, even if they're small.

Last year my resolution was #ReadWomen2014, so that was relatively simple, and I stuck with it. As part of that goal, I also strove to read a lot more women authors of color (which I did) and some of the major feminist texts (which I mostly did not). 

This year my reading resolutions are very influenced by the blog; I don't spend much time on reading that I can't later write about, so my resolutions are also (hopefully) a forecast of what you can expect to see in 2015:

One poetry book per month -- This is not something I have ever had much success with, but Adrienne Rich has made me believe again. I will try not to let this become One Adrienne Rich Book Per Month, I promise

Doorstop Books -- I've read some very long books, but all the major ones (Atlas Shrugged, Infinite Jest, War and Peace) are still on my shelves. I still haven't decided which I'll attempt first, and I'm not going to put any metrics to this, because one will feel like a success. I'll be blogging throughout the experience, and I hope someone is inspired to read along with me.

More of Those Obnoxious Books I Missed in College -- The Rilkes and the Walter Benjamins of the world deserve my (and your) attention. I miss the experience of collegiate reading immensely, and I don't want to let too many post-grad years go by without revisiting the meaty stuff.

What are your reading resolutions for 2015?

#ReadWomen2014: A Year in Review

2014 is over, which means #ReadWomen2014 is over (although #ReadWomen has only just begun!). It was a success for me in the objective sense, in that I exclusively read books by women (and women completely dominated my other reading, like online content), and I add a tremendous number of titles by women to my bookshelves.

It was a success in a much more abstract sense in that I enjoyed it immensely, and it proved to be the easiest "challenge" I've ever taken on. I've attempted structured, directed (pleasure) reading in the past, but it never worked. This was so effortless to stick with because there is no end to excellent literature and non-fiction written by women in every possible genre; not that I doubted this very obvious fact, but the reason I was able to stick with it is largely because I was always able to find something I was in the mood to read.

Probably the greatest takeaway from the experience though is the greater breadth of exposure to literature I feel I've gained. There were so many women authors who I always intended to read, and this year I did because I had the ideal opportunity, and no excuses. I can now speak knowledgeably about Joan Didion, when a year ago I had never read a word by her; I would even go so far as to call her one of my absolute favorites now, and someone I will keep reading for the rest of my life.

Probably the biggest failure of the experience for me has been my inability to conquer the big, definitive feminist texts. At the start of 2014 I made myself a reading list to ensure I didn't waste a year reading one Margaret Atwood book after another (JK, that's the opposite of waste, it's a sacred task). On the list were many of the landmark feminist works of the 20th century, and most of them remain unread or partially read. I was shocked and disappointed by how irrelevant I found them to be. But to keep things in perspective, I also found myself enjoying so many books this year that were distinctly feminist, if not necessarily Feminist.

If you took part in #ReadWomen2014 (in part or whole), I'd love for you to share your experiences (good or bad) in the Comments.

Bookhive's Best of 2014

So many bloggers and writers and editors will tell you how much they positively despise putting together "Best of' lists at the end of the year. Those people are lying. Making lists is incredibly fun and frankly not all that difficult. Yes, there are tons of movies and books and albums that are made each and every year, but only a small fraction of them are worth consideration for a "Best of" list and it is quite literally their job to figure out which ones. So they can get over it. 

A few caveats regarding my own list: I am not a professional literary editor or reviewer; I have a full-time job so anything I read that was published in 2014 had to be squeezed into an already busy schedule, and additionally, had to be available to me at the library or interesting enough to warrant a purchase, which is rare for new titles. I'm still not enough of a mover and shaker to warrant advance review copies, so I do my best to keep up and I have the library fines to prove it. Thus, my favorite titles published in 2014:

The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore -- Smart, well-researched, incredibly interesting and so much more than a history of a comic book character. 

On Immunity by Eula Biss -- Really hard to describe but brief and wonderful all the same. Her meditations on the nature of disease and vaccination are poetic and troubling.

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples -- This comic started a few years ago but the latest issues and an omnibus edition were published this year, so it's fair game. I am not a comic book expert, so when I say it's my favorite comic book, that probably means very little, but it's really terrific; funny, challenging, and beautiful.

Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson -- Just ignore the YA-genre buzz around this short prose-poem memoir. Adults should read it, kids should read it.

Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant by Roz Chast -- A really warm and honest and insightful graphic memoir on the aging and death of Chast's parents. I cried less than I expected.

Women in Clothes by Sheila Heti, Heidi Julavits, and Leanne Shapton -- I was surprised by how many "Best of" lists forgot about this one, because it made a huge impression on me. I still haven't removed it from the pile next to my bed because I keep going back to it. It is endlessly entertaining and makes the smallest minutiae of women's lives fascinating.

What I'm Reading: 'Men Explain Things to Me' by Rebecca Solnit

I've never read anything by Rebecca Solnit before now, aside from the occasional essay or article, and now that I've spent a few days with her, I fully intend to read her other books. I'm especially intrigued by Wanderlust, about the notion of walking and wandering, since I got around to seeing the movie 'Wild' this weekend and the idea of getting outside has been very top of mind.

Men Explain Things to Me is a short collection of recent essays, with a decided feminist slant, and the titular essay is one many of you have likely already encountered online. Solnit did not coin the term 'mansplaining,' but it seems likely that her essay inspired it. If you haven't taken a moment in #ReadWomen2014 to dive into a feminist text, I highly recommend this one for its timeliness, brevity, and relevance to the current state of feminism. I struggled with several feminist "classics" this year, and it was such a relief to set those aside and read something that I could understand and relate to.

#ReadWomen2014 Non-Fiction: 'Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy' by Karen Abbott

By the time we made it to the Civil War in my AP U.S. History class, I had already been accepted to the University of Michigan Honors Program, so to say I was unmotivated would be a very polite interpretation indeed. I was a borderline distraction to my classmates; I did not prepare for the exam in the slightest, and when I got my test score in the mail I thought it was a mistake, because it was surprisingly decent. Needless to say, Civil War history is not my "thing."

Which is why I am so appreciative of history books that are able to successfully explore a rather large, important moment in human history with a very narrow, precise lens. It is my favorite type of non-fiction, and the more minute, the better. I really am enjoying Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy thus far; all four women featured in the book are very distinct characters and their own brand of bad-ass. Obviously my favorite is the Union Soldier from Michigan who cross-dressed her way into becoming a war hero. The best detail is that she had to pretend to be much worse at sewing and cleaning than she actually was, so as not to give herself away. It almost feels like too much fun to be a Civil War history book.

What I'm Reading: 'The Shipping News' by Annie Proulx

My streak of Eastern Canadian literature continues this week with The Shipping News. Annie Proulx is technically an American author but this is certainly one of the best known fictional depictions of Nova Scotia, so it counts. When I picked up Who Will Run the Frog Hospital I didn't even realize what a strong French-Canadian connection it had, so this year has been highlighted with two really wonderful trips to Ontario and Quebec and tons of accompanying Canadian literature to support it, and most of it accidental.

What is there to say about a novel that won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award? It is objectively "good" in every sense of the word, although her prose style is so different from what I expected. I suppose I was anticipating a kind of spare, bleak, post-Hemingway prose style (where did this idea come from? Was it because of the 'Brokeback Mountain' dialogue?) but instead it feels more reminiscent of her American contemporaries like Philip Roth, Thomas Pynchon (no shade), and maybe even a bit of Vonnegut.

I've been thinking a lot lately about masculine vs. feminine writing styles, and wondering if anyone can tell the difference. This is mostly inspired by the Elena Ferrante situation -- a reclusive and very talented Italian woman author who many think is secretly a man, presumably because her writing is so excellent). Can anyone really tell the gender of the author by their prose? I think Annie Proulx is proof that gender assignment to writing style is complete baloney; her writing shares more stylistically with her male contemporaries, and if I had read it without knowing the author, I would have guessed the gender wrong.

Which I suppose is the point of an exercise like #ReadWomen2014 -- readers should make every effort to enjoy books written by men and women, and good literature should be good literature, not "good literature...for a woman." To get back to Annie Proulx then, and her many prizes, it seems likely that The Shipping News would have to be perceived to be such a literary accomplishment as to surpass those of Proulx's male contemporaries, whose work is often given attention, praise and prizes such much more readily. And for me, it has lived up to every bit of that hype and probably deserves a bit more.