ewee (13/26): The Story of General Dann and Mara's Daughter, Griot and the snow dog by Doris Lessing

Doris Lessing is one of those writers I'd always meant to read. This was not necessarily the best place to start.

Don't get me wrong, she might be one of the greatest living writers (as the book jacket claims), but this is a sequel and not necessarily one of her major works.

After finishing the book, I have to admit that I was left with a foggy sense that I'd missed something. That the book I read was somehow just the surface of the story she was telling. I suspect that this is true. There's a story inside the story, about the environment, about the human cost of war, about love, about grief, about the loss of knowledge. I'm just not entirely clear what it is.

And overall, her writing was smooth and seamless, knitting together this dreamlike story of wars and environmental decay. Her characters were all oddities in one way or another. And they seemed to inhabit their own worlds, touching tangentially on each others' lives.

But honestly, I got the book because of the cover, and because I was curious to read some of her work. Since my take on it is so foggy, I've linked to as many reviews as possible. Not a bad read, but get it from the library, or borrow my copy.

ewee (12/26): Rachel and Her Children: Homeless Families in America, by Jonathan Kozol

Jonathan Kozol's Savage Inequalities was required reading in some class I took, somewhere. Or it wasn't my class, but it was a roommate's required reading. Anyway, Rachel and Her Children is much along the same vein, but his focus is on the condition of homeless families in the US.

Kozol writes clearly, compellingly, and convincingly. Even a decade after the book was written, his message is no less (if not more) vital than ever. (Especially in light of all the anti-poor and anti-homeless legislation that's been passed in my beautiful city by the bay.) As we seem to be moving toward a less humanitarian and less tolerant society, Kozol is an eloquent voice advocating for compassion and change.

Eh, so to sum up...Unputdownable. Read it with a pen in hand, there's much to be highlighted and mused over. Need something to do after you read it? Check out the Coalition on Homelessness, SF.

swingbeat 6/26: Iron Council by China Mieville

OK, my last China Mieville book before I move onto other genres! This book dragged on and on, unlike The Scar. Mieville was kind of creative in this book, but the book was just not as riveting as his last one. This story takes place in the same world as New Crobuzon, but decades after the events of the last book. Mieville always seems to have a social justice message to go along with his books, and it gets a little bit tiring.
This story just doesn't know where to end. It's divded into a few parts, and each part is a ministory that culminates in one anti-climactic climax (although it was not predictable). First there are bunch of people searching for the Iron Council, running away from oppression in New Crobuzon. Then there are a bunch of people still back at New Crobuzon who are looking to incite trouble; guerilla militia uprisings. Then there is a flashback to how the Iron Council got formed. Then the people in the first part find the Iron Council and they head back to New Crobuzon. Etc etc etc. I can go on. This book just took me forever to read because I never felt compelled to keep it in my hands. Then again, my sleep schedule could have something to do with it :).
As for whether I recommend it or not, that's kind of tough. In general I like Mieville's writing to continue reading his works, so it biases me. But I'd recommend just skipping this one and see how the next one turns out. Has he run out of steam in his steampunk?

ewee (11/26): The Skies of Pern by Anne McCaffrey

Cheese, pure and simple.

If you liked McCaffrey's other books in the Pern series, this is worth a quick read. It's forgettable enough that I bought it (again?) in a moment of weakness (I really needed a quick escapist fix). But don't buy the book. I'll give you my copy.

And, not that I'm one to talk, but I think this sums it up...

Kayan : 2/26 : Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

I spent Thanksgiving 2006 with Y and his family in L.A.. Stepping inside His Childhood Home, it was like stepping into Bizarro My Childhood Home: the layout, the choice of furniture, the warm homey feel, the knick-knacks parents like to keep around.

Making myself at home right away, I mozied on upstairs and checked out Y and his brother's rooms. JUST LIKE MY PARENTS, his parents had put the family computer into the eldest son's room, and have converted the second child's into a guest room * by putting two twin beds side by side * exactly the same way my parents have done.

Y thinks I'm making more of a deal about these similarities than warranted. But to me it was an overwhelming sense of how suburbia is all the same across the country; that we have more in common than we have differences.

*********************

Ah right. The book. So I helped myself to Y's high school bookshelves and plucked out this one amongst all the other high school required readings. I know I must've read this in high school, and remember vaguely what the book was about (about as much as you're remembering right now).

As someone who's been thinking about the human mind a lot lately, one moment of the book jumped out at me: Mentally developmentally challenged Charlie Gordon had undergone surgery to make him smarter. He is now a genius. But his emotional intelligence has not caught up. Charlie Gordon makes the observation that we can have all the intelligence in the world, but without a human connection to others, we are not really living.

This is something I have considered. For example, I love reading and interpreting the application of the Holy Bible to everyday life. But I once met a theology student who knows the Word really well, but is completely inept at expressing it in applicable, real-life terms. As I embark on studies in psychology and continue to study the Bible, I am now more watchful for continued connectivity to people.

ewee (10/26): Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, by Alison Bechdel

Without (much) boasting, I can say that I've read everything that Alison Bechdel has published. I might even own all of her books, but I'm not sure. I've been reading her since almost the beginning -- I came out in the 90's, and immediately consumed every comic of hers I could find. I'm sure if I'd seen her comics before I came out, I'd've read them just as voraciously (perhaps more voraciously). In fact, I was fairly certain that she was spying on the funky veggie all womyn co-op I lived in just after college (Cherry Street co-op in fabulous Northampton, MA) -- it was all too familiar. As her characters changed and aged, so did my circle of friends.

Forgive the extra-babbly digression, but reading Fun Home was like getting to spend quality time with an old college friend I'd lost touch with completely. [Yes, K, there are pictures, but it is Entertainment Weekly's *and* Time Magazine's number ONE (non-fiction, for EW) book of 2006. So there!]

This is not *just* a graphic novel. It pays homage to the literary canon -- from Proust to James Joyce to other dead white men (I only read the Cliff Notes...). And all the while, it weaves together a bizarre and compelling story of obsession, family and coming out. Bechdel's memoir is one of the best things I've read in a long time. Sadly, it's been removed from at least one public library (along with Blankets, by Craig Thompson), and will have to endure a few rounds of homophobia before the dust settles. But like all good literature, it speaks the truth eloquently and like the great comics of our times, Bechdel uses the medium to provide more than words alone can.

Highly recommended, but definitely check your homophobia at the door, as it's a fairly queer narrative (in more ways than one). But as Time Magazine's blurb puts it:

The unlikeliest literary success of 2006 is a stunning memoir about a girl growing up in a small town with her cryptic, perfectionist dad and slowly realizing that a) she is gay and b) he is too. Oh, and it's a comic book: Bechdel's breathtakingly smart commentary duets with eloquent line drawings. Forget genre and sexual orientation: this is a masterpiece about two people who live in the same house but different worlds, and their mysterious debts to each other.

ewee (9/26): Funny in Farsi, by Firoozeh Dumas

Aaah, back to the library -- this time, it's the Asian branch of the Oakland public library system. This is a tiny branch, with more materials in a wide variety Asian languages than in English. There's even Korean videos (nothing current, but they're free!).

But I digress...

I actually first saw Funny in Farsi as someone else's gifty. It looked like a good read (I only got it outta his hands for a second), and I was intrigued. All-in-all, it lived up to its promise. It is a well-written (and well-translated), and engaging read. The insights into Iranian culture, especially as a measure of the changing times in the US, are thoughtful and interesting (Dumas' experiences span the times both before and after the Iranian revolution).

There are moments when the book is simplistic and overly pollyanna-ish, and is better consumed as a series of short stories (tho it reads so quickly, I found that I'd read it in almost one sitting). But overall, the characters are three-dimensional and endearing, the writing is engaging, and the narrative tells a story of one immigrant family's experience with humor and compassion.

So, overall, this book is highly recommended.