Dune by Frank Herbert: An Impression

I don't write reviews for books that are considered classics by a remarkable group of the reading population. But there's so many books in the world, we can't always read them hot off the presses, and sometimes we get to them late. In my case, 50 years late.
Yes, I finally got around to reading the cult classic Dune. This isn't going to be a real review, obviously, because I'm not qualified. But does it stand up to the test of time? You know, I've always had pockets of friends who were a little bit, more or less, obsessed fanboys of this series. Suddenly, now that I've read the book and I'm so excited about it I can't seem to find any of them. Obviously the hype is gone, but jeebus. So that's the predicament I'm in right now. I'm overflowing with opinions and discussion questions about this book, but I can't seem to find anyone to talk about it with me! I expect if I reread this novel at another time, I'll notice more things than I had this time. This book is mammoth & daunting. I guess this is what they call a "space opera." A great deal of drama over friends and foes and secret friends being secret foes and foes being secretly friends. And some fictional politics - which kind of lost me because why do I want to talk about made-up politics that aren't going to effect me when the real deal is so depressing and not going to go away when I shut the book?
So it was a great, epic novel that was daunting at first, but I feel I breezed easily through to my own surprise. I'd always felt intimidated by it's length, but I read it fairly quickly. I'll eventually get around to reading the other books in the series, but I do want to put some breaks on reading digitally. It's all fine and dandy, but not as pleasurable and satisfying as reading real books.

The Waiting Years: An Impression

Borrowed from J. Gossen

I don't really love coming on here and writing "reviews" for books that are technically classics. Because, I mean, who am I? I know I'm not qualified to do that. So rather, I'm writing an impression. The Waiting Years is considered a classic in Japan, which is what makes it unique to what I - as an English speaking American - would consider classic literature. So technically, it wouldn't even fall into what we call the "Western Cannon."
Lately I've been on the hunt for one of two things: proper Japanese curry and English translated Japanese fiction. Japanese restaurants in my town are a dime a dozen, but they're entirely sushi restaurants (do people not realize that they eat more than just sushi in Japan? Probably not.) and exactly one restaurant serves Japanese style curry. Alas, it's pretty expensive. And as for Japanese fiction, well I'm working on it. If anyone can recommend something written by someone other than Haruki Murakami & Kazuo Ishiguro I'd be happy to hear them. (Nothing against them, it's just that I'm certain that there are more than 2 Japanese authors out there, just as I'm certain they eat more than sushi)

The Waiting Years isn't just a Japanese classic, but a Feminist classic as well. I think the major thing I'd like to point out before I begin is that I would have benefited from reading it in a college class - though it's little it's mighty. I know there's a lot I didn't understand that I might grasp a few years from now if I ever decide to reread it. Also, I just realized a lot of people reading this are probably students, and even after I say that I'm not qualified to have any lengthy, academic discussions about this novel, there's still a good chance that someone is going to use this as help for writing a paper. Meep! I am not worthy! But all this chatter aside, I'll do my best not to let you (and your grades) down.

The Waiting Years took Fumiko Enchi eight years to write, beginning during the American occupation. This is significant because at the time, women's roles in Japan were changing radically both legally and socially. Fumiko Enchi's story is a family history taking place during a huge societal shift as Japan was in the process of modernizing.
The story, told over the course of forty years, centers around a housewife of an aristocratic man. Initially, he sends her (Tomo) out to search for a concubine for him, and she eventually brings back a quiet,15-year-old Suga under the pretense that she will act as the family's maid. Suga captures not only the heart of Yukitomo, the husband, but becomes friends with their young daughter Etsuko.
Tomo suppresses her feelings and her hurt early on. In fact, it's very rare that she ever voices her emotions. Because of Tomo's role in society, she made many sacrifices on behalf of her husband. She raises Suga as part of the family, claiming responsibility for her as if she were her own daughter. Later, Yukitomo takes on a new concubine named Yuri. Yuri and Suga become close friends. Beautifully, there isn't any of the cattiness in this household that I would have expected. But after a decade or so, Yuri leaves the house and marries, leaving Suga behind. Suga, unfortunately, will never be able to marry and have children herself because she is barren - likely due to the fact that Yukitomo took her as a lover at such a young age. A third mistress enters the scene, but this time it is genuinely scandalous as Yukitomo has a long affair with his son's wife.
While it does a great job of exploring the lives of women at the time who have little real power but emotional power, it's still very vague and short. Perhaps I'd need at least a master's in Japanese feminist literature to fully understand it. But somehow it's reminiscent of some of my favorites: Du Maurier's Rebecca, Chopin's The Awakening, The Brontë Sister's, and Grau's The House on Coliseum Street.

Story of a Soul

In the past year I've discovered a huge fondness for St. Therese "The Little Flower." I've also begun spending more time as a guest in Adoration Chapel, and this book is the most recent thing I've read while there.
Why is she special to me? She was an innocent soul - very girlish and sweet. The kind of girl you want to be friends with. I'd read some things about her and her philosophies that left me quite stunned. It really changed my perspective. But I felt like a fraud for only having read someone else's thoughts on the matter and needed to go straight to the source - her autobiography. To explain further, I have to first review this book.

The Story of a Soul reads like a school girl's scribbles - which is essentially what they are. Therese of Lisieux was only 15 or 14 when she became a Carmelite nun. One of her sisters (who also happened to be her sister - her biological sister, also a Carmelite nun) asked her to write about her life. And so she did - in a school notebook, at an old, plain wooden desk. What makes Therese so cool, as a person and not as a saint, is that she knew from the earliest of ages that she was destined to be a Carmelite nun. From the earliest of ages, she was passionate about Christ. It's a rare trait, but in your life you will see it. I know personally, try as hard as I might, I need a lot of guidance as my passion and interest flags. Just the tone Therese uses sometimes grabs be by the shoulders and shakes me hard - she is so literally humble in the truest sense of the word that it's, well, humbling. Overall, the book is like re-reading Pollyanna or Anne of Green Gables, just a more Catholic version.
Specifically Pollyanna - you know how Pollyanna played The Glad Game? St. Therese played a similar game - and this is the part that is so endearing about her as a saint. This is the part that makes people write and talk so much about her, even if you aren't Catholic perhaps you can appreciate it. Therese realized that she wasn't necessarily destined for greatness. She saw herself as a "little soul." She couldn't do great, grand things to honor The Lord. Not many of us can. So instead she decided she would take extra care to make small gestures and do them with great love. It's the sort of thing some of us would consider "self-improvement," if Catholicism offends you - and indeed it shouldn't. "Small gestures with great love?" you're wondering. What does that even mean? If someone offends or annoys you, for instance, it's usually hard to let it go. The least you might end up doing is giving them a cold look - but Therese says to even resist it. Smile at them, be kind to them, go out of your way to show them some love. Whoa. That sounds insane. So if someone hurts you, you're supposed to send them some flowers? Who does that? But reverse the mirror and look at it another way. Is it really benefitting anyone - yourself included - if you cuss the offendee out? It really only makes you an enemy, and while that's hard to avoid (even in her life, Therese had her enemies), life is too short to have enemies. So think about it. I'd rather be kind even to jerks. Sometimes you might forget to, but there's always going to be other chances.

"The Human Chair" by Edogawa Rampo

Every October I like to celebrate Halloween by reading something "spooky." This year I decided to read some short stories. The first one being a Japanese story called "The Human Chair," by Edogawa Rampo.
But before I start talking about the story, I want to say a few words about Edogawa Rampo. That isn't his real first name - it's a pen name. Try saying it out loud a few times. "Ed-o-ga-wa Ram-po." Does it sound a little familiar? Like, "Edgar Allen Poe," perhaps? They aren't the same person at all, but oddly enough Edogawa Rampo is more popular in Japan than Edgar Allen Poe is. In fact, most Japanese would never even think to confuse the two.
Now, about the story. I think it was a good idea for me to read short fiction rather than a long novel. Horror seems to work better in this format. "The Human Chair," is basically about a chair with a man living inside. He's hideously ugly and shy, but an amazing craftsman. So he builds himself a chair that he will fit into and whoever would sit upon it will never be any wiser. He basically gets his kicks when women sit on him (eerr...) It is in fact the only time any woman has ever been so close to him, and so naturally he falls in love with every single one. So this story, summed up very quickly, is about a repulsive man who has sex with unassuming women through a chair. Though we are never told out right that he has sexual encounters with them, it's pretty safe to assume. ...Then the story eventually ends with the biggest cock-block the world over.
Okay, as someone who doesn't especially like reading horror since I'm always so emotionally detached from what I'm reading, I have to say this story was creepy. But it's another perfect example what I mean when I say horror can be so absurd it's hard to take seriously.

The Abbess of Andalusia: A Spiritual Biography of Flannery O'Conner

The Abbess of Andalusia is a unique biography on the Southern author, Flannery O'Conner. What makes it unique? Flannery was a Catholic woman in the Bible Belt South, and this book focused primarily on her faith - not entirely on her work.
I read this book in it's entirety during my weekly Eucharistic Adoration, since there is no restrictions on what you can do during your hour spent in chapel, as long as it is quiet and pious literature.

Flannery O'Conner is a very important and special figure to me, regardless of her religion - though that is a common bond we share. I love any Southern woman with a wicked, dry wit - and her stories are so dark and soul crushing. Talking about her with Catholics who have never heard of her has taught me that no one believes that she was actually Catholic. Surely someone who writes about murder so casually shouldn't be associated with The Holy Church! But that's what I love about her.
So, I never got to take a formal class on Flannery O'Conner's life and writings while in school, though I would have never passed on the chance if it had come up - but I'm the sort of person who will research the heck out of something that interests me anyway.

It's difficult to write a review on a biography the way one would for fiction. Everything is just laid out for you. But I can tell you what I learned from it. The whole "How Can This Be Catholic" criticism isn't new. During her life, Flannery wasn't well received for just exactly this. That the stories were actually parables for Christian life was lost on everyone but a few of her readers - and they were the sharpest readers. This book does not delve into her writing career. Rather, it focuses on her life with Lupus and how, though she suffered for a long time, she always took time to help her friends. To me, this is what Catholicism is about - sacrifice. To give up your time and interests and go out of your way to help someone, or even be kind to someone (that you may or may not like) will lead you to so many things. Thats the basic long and short of it. Flannery would continue long correspondences with friends and fans, advising them in all manner of things. I think she still may be, because she set a few things straight with me through this book.

If you're a fan of Flannery O'Conner, I recommend this book (published by Tan Books) - especially if you are interested in religious studies. To my knowledge, there are no other books written about Ms. O'Conner's spirituality. This one is well researched and an interesting read.

Happy Birthday, Emily Bronte!

Today is the 195th birthday of one of my favorite authors - the reclusive, moody, brilliant Emily Brontë. When I first discovered her as a high school sophomore, I found a kindred spirit. In fact, I started to doubt wether or not reincarnation couldn't be possible. Our personalities - our fierce privacy, our distaste for society, our love of animals and nature, and our contradictory vivaciousness - were so similar, that for the first time in my life I seriously thought she and I could have been one in the same. Now, that is probably untrue. Just some whimsy from a imaginative teen. But regardless, I continue to be a big fan, especially because we are regardless cut from the same cloth.

Here are some neat facts about Emily:

• Emily almost never left her house. In fact, even though her father was the parish vicar, she wouldn't even leave the house on Sundays.
• When her sisters Charlotte and Anne decided to publish their works (under the masculine pen names Currier, Ellis, and Acton Bell) Emily was the one who initially fought it. She did not want the world to see her private writings, even though of all of her siblings she might be the most talented. So we should be grateful for Charlotte and Anne.
• Emily rescued animals. Besides her sisters, father, and brother, her pets were her closest friends. She had one pet dog in particular named Keeper. He was a mutt, but was fiercely loyal to Emily and loved her more than anything. It was said that Keeper once got into a fight with a pack of local dogs, as Keeper was wont to do. Emily would appear on the scene and would physically beat back the dogs to separate them. Once, when Keeper got into a scrap with a dog that had rabies she and was bitten, she calmly returned to her house, got a hot poker from the hearth, and castrated herself. Talk about a fierce Victorian bitch! Eventually, her aunt sent all of her pets away without telling Emily. Something she couldn't easily forgive.
• Though Emily is famous for her only novel Wuthering Heights, she was an exceptional poet. Emily died at the age of 30. But Charlotte based her character Shirley, in the novel of the same name, on her younger sister. So if you're interested in getting a 3rd hand glimpse of what her character was like, add that to your reading list.

Hiatus

image source: retronaut.com

Sorry, but this following week I'll be on a much anticipated family vacation. I'll be catching up on some reading in the meantime, so when I return I should *hopefully* have some new books to share with you!

In the meantime, please enjoy this image I found of a well loved classic American novelist: Ms. Fitzgerald. What? No, not Zelda Fitzgerald. Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald. In Drag. Duh! Pay more attention - my grammar may not always be perfect, but I do take some pride in it. By the way, this photo was taken sometime between 1913 and 1917 - during his years in Princeton and accompanying his first published works.

The Great Gatsby

I guess everyone is excited about this movie, and I'm no exception. I know why I was thrilled about it - I'm a sucker for a Baz Luhrmann flick, anything to do with the roaring 20's (which I have been trying to "bring back" with zero success since high school), Leonardo DiCaprio (I've been a fangirl since 4th grade), and, well, F. Scott Fitzgerald....
But I was disappointed. Not with the movie. The movie was a work of art, as most of Baz Luhrmann movies are. (That's the great thing about art, too. Not everyone is going to like it, so you don't have to agree with me about that. I don't care if you don't.)
When the movie ended and the credits began, I didn't want to move from the seat, I was nearly in tears. The audience moving out of the theater was already commenting on how amazing the movie was. Amazing? Amazing?? Sure, it was pretty and stylish. The costumes were a little too modern, the soundtrack was neat (but it really didn't take the center stage of the movie), and it was really flashy. But was anyone actually paying attention to what happened in the end - or even what the story is about?

I read The Great Gatsby in high school, like most people. But unlike most people, I didn't read it for a class. I read it for fun. I remember at the time two of my best friends were these 60-something year old women who were aids in our school's special ed class. We'd hit it off because we all loved books. I found my copy of Gatsby at a thrift store and everyday I'd see my ladies, I'd tell them how far I'd gotten in my book. "I think things are looking up for Jay Gatsby, guys!" I told them. (They kind of gave each other pitying glances.) A 90 year old book seems a little ridiculous to spoil, but when I finished the book I was devastated...
Sitting in the theater, I relived that gut wrenched feeling all over again. And what made it all the more depressing is that I was the only one feeling so depressed. Everyone seemed to be caught up on the superficiality - which is kind of what the story is about. They didn't even seem to notice that they were the same as the Buchanans or Gatsby's party guests. They were blind to the facade.
I'm not going to explain myself. I'm hoping against the odds that everyone reading this has also read The Great Gatsby in high school or something like that (if you haven't, I'm leaving the judgement off. I still haven't read Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn, which every American is supposed to have read as well) and in doing so, I hope it was explained to you that the story is a metaphor for American society's gaudy, polished surface and bitter, corrupted core. Obviously, there were people in the audience that saw the shiny bits and blocked out the dark stuff.

I'm glad this movie has given a lot of Americans a renewed interest in one of the great classics. (I'm always happy when something popular happens to pop culture that sends kids to the bookstore or library.) The silver lining is that the night after watching it with my parents, my dad asked if I had a copy of The Great Gatsby. (duh!) He's already 50 pages into it, though he was originally concerned that he couldn't finish it. I'm nauseated with joy

Dumb Valentine's Day Comic

Here's a truly stupid Valentine's Day inspired comic. Because if F. Scott Fitzgerald were still alive, he could get wit dis.

A Confederacy of Dunces

A Confederacy of Dunces is the comedic, classic Louisiana novel written by the New Orleans native John Kennedy Toole. We read this for my "funsies" Louisiana Lit class. As it turns out, Toole once taught English at my college, so I suppose it isn't surprising that we studied it, and the rumor is that Ignatius was inspired in part by my English professor.

Confederacy, which has a huge cast of characters, is centered around the gargantuan "intellectual snob" that is Ignatius Reilly. Ignatius can be infuriating and horrible, but he's also a riot. Ignatius, who has a Masters degree in Medieval history in a time when most people were lucky to finish high school, dresses like a hobo and lives with his mother. There isn't much he can tolerate of society, and sometimes his disgust is hilarious for it's irony. All is well in Ignatius' miserable little life, until... his poor sweet mother gets into an accident and causes a lot of damage that can only be paid off when Ignatius *gasp!* Gets. A. JOB.

Confederacy of Dunces is a hilarious novel - it's got something for everyone: high and low brow humor. It isn't often that I read a novel that makes me laugh out loud, and it also isn't often that people will stop me to talk about the book I'm reading, but isn't it so delightful when that does happen?
I really think this is a book everyone should read - or try to read, at least - though it isn't for everyone. The only way you can find out if it's for you, though, is to read it. Right?