ghosts of a tired universe

I read a lot of books. Really--a lot of books. And even though there are many I enjoy (I'm pretty good at choosing ones I know I'll like), it's rare that you come across a book that challenges your perspective on existence.

Cover Art by Vasily Kafanov - worth enlarging to see the gorgeous detail in the painting

The plot of Ghosts of a Tired Universe revolves, for the most part, around Charles Du Pont, a sculptor of nearly unimaginable skill and passion. However, the story plays with time and separate third-person perspectives, jumping from a frame-story involving a journalist trying to piece together the narrative, to Charles and his journey across and between worlds, to the alternate reality of two men who seem to control it all.

The threads of the story are all introduced in the first few chapters, so if you're not accustomed to dealing with parallel narratives, it might take some getting used to; however, as the story continues, the threads begin to weave and merge together, leading to an end that is as unexpected as it is completely satisfying.

Jonas Samuelle's writing style is unique, both whimsical and philosophically heavy, often throwing multiple concepts together in a single sentence and eschewing the "less is more" approach of writers such as Hemingway. The technique suits his subject matter--everything from mock duels with chisels and cello bows to rape and arson to mimes with their mouths sewn shut and statues that appear to move--and only enhances the intense symbolism underpinning the novel.

If you insist on nothing but bare, strict realism, Ghosts of a Tired Universe is not it--although I'd still recommend trying it to see if your palate has the potential to expand. If, however, your soul yearns for something fantastic and significant, for a book that not only entertains but drags your mind through the depths and heights of the human experience, this book is one you'll come back to time and time again.

It is currently available for download at all the major ebook retailers--Amazon, iTunes, Barnes & Noble--and can be downloaded in pdf or html for those of us without ereaders at Smashwords. A print copy will be available for order through Amazon within the next couple weeks.

Update: it's now available in print on Createspace--will be on Amazon as soon as they update themselves.

Cleopatra: A Life

I visited the library the morning of my flight out to Virginia for my sister's college graduation. (I had, in a moment of clarity, realized that I didn't want to spend five hours driving alone in a car without the company of an audiobook.) Sitting on the Express checkout table (three weeks only, no renewals, no reserves), distracting me from my original purpose, was Stacy Schiff's new biography on Cleopatra.



I'm not normally a huge reader of non-fiction, and the ones I start I rarely finish (sup, god is Not Great, Guns, Germs, and Steel, Man is Not the Measure, Savage Inequalities . . .). This one looked fascinating, especially since Schiff is heralded for doing her best to peel away 2,000 years of embellishment and misrepresentation. Winning the Pulitzer was also a nice selling point.

The book lived up to its promise and its apparent hype. Schiff oozes credibility, giving us the varied accounts of events, pointing out why one or the other seems more likely, analyzing the motives other historians (Plutarch and Dio, mostly) present us with, often pointing out flaws in their explanations and offering more sensible ones instead. And she has fertile ground for it--the story, even in the more bare-bones version than what a modern audience has come to expect from the Queen of the Nile--is a fascinating one. Riding below the narrative, and directly stated at the end, is the overwhelming sense that this woman, reduced by history to nothing but a sex symbol and "Elizabeth Taylor's limpid violet eyes," was in fact an incredibly intelligent political powerhouse.

The best part of Cleopatra: A Life is (aside from the story itself) Schiff's voice. She has a sardonic and biting wit, and over and over again I caught myself sniggering loudly in public places. The only detraction--and this may be my flaw rather than Schiff's--is that I had a difficult time keeping track of all of the people that float in and out of the events. Keep a notebook nearby to scribble down names and deeds of minor figures, but definitely go track down a copy of Cleopatra: A Life as soon as possible. It's a perfect summer read for those of us who prefer intellectual pursuits to chick lit.

Confessions of an English teacher, vol. 1

Part 1, drafted 3 days ago

The Scarlet Letter kept getting mentioned recently, for some reason. It's been buzzing around.

I remember hating it in high school. I figured that it wouldn't hurt me to read it now, and that I might actually enjoy it.

Dear lord. I am two CDs in to the audio book, and I am DYING. It's not even to the actual "book" yet--it's still the introduction, called "The Custom House"--and it's the most horrifically boring thing I have ever listened to. No significant action, not a single intriguing character, just meandering, awful, dull prose.

I am completely screwed if I ever have to teach it. When some kid asks, "Miss, what's the significance of that portion of the text?" I'm going to be hard-pressed to come up with any other answer but "hell if I know." It seems to exist merely because Hawthorne enjoyed the sound of his own voice.


Part 2, as of this evening

Shortly after writing the above, I broke through "The Custom House" and into the actual novel (novella? It seems short).

I hate it a bit less, now, but not much. There are, at least, characters worth noticing, and something in the way of action. However, the overwhelming fire/brimstone/devil imagery is SO DAMN OPPRESSIVE. It's his go-to metaphor for nearly everything.

Additionally, anything having to do with Puritanical values is currently rubbing me entirely the wrong way, so I'm mostly in a state of agitation at the narrow-mindedness of the characters as I'm listening to it. (Perhaps it wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't know that these are the types of people our country was founded by, and partially why in contemporary times we have such ridiculous debates about things like gay marriage and death penalties for women getting abortions.)

Anyway. I think this is failed experiment, though if I change my mind about the book once I'm done, I'll be sure to let you know.

book review: The Hunger Games trilogy

So Colin, being Colin, bought everybody books for Christmas. (Mine was a stocking stuffer, as the big present was sitting under the tree, complete with a cautionary note . . . a tale for another time, perhaps.) He said that the entire publishing world seemed to be geeking out over The Hunger Games, and since he didn't think he wanted to read it, he thought I might.

It looked interesting, and when we went to Phoenix that evening to have Christmas with his family, I packed it.



I picked it up Sunday morning and basically only put it down when I absolutely had to, and didn't during other times when I probably should have. It's not a terribly original premise: it's a post-apocalyptic former United States, with 12 districts and the Capitol. Every year, as restitution for a former uprising, each district draws a male and female tribute between the ages of 12 and 18 for the Hunger Games, a Battle Royale-style reality television event where they fight each other to the death. Our heroine, of course, ends up participating.

I finished the first book that day. On Monday, back in Tucson, I checked the public library reservations on the second and third: 173 and 242 holds, respectively. I dropped by the library anyway, to pick up something else, and just happened to see Mockingjay (no. 3) on display in the very front. It was an express copy, and not subject to the holds, so I had lucked out; I went and purchased Catching Fire that night at Borders so I could read them in order and as quickly as possible. In the second she revisits the games, and in the third becomes part of a growing resistance against the current government.

What sets the trilogy apart from most of the young adult frippery that's glutting the market is the quality of Suzanne Collins' writing. The story is intense, and, especially in the third, quite violent; she somehow manages to be descriptive but not gory. The first-person present tense works especially well for her, and except for the inescapably obvious survival of the heroine, she manages to throw twists and turns into the plot that I doubt even the most prescient of readers could divine. Her characters are pleasingly three-dimensional, and the suspense doesn't overpower the humanity of message--which, incidentally, she doesn't beat you over the head with as so many others would be tempted to.

Now, I wouldn't put them on the level of The Giver or the Harry Potter series (both of which I would deign to call literature), but The Hunger Games trilogy comes quite close. I read a book a day for three days, which should give you some idea of their appeal--I haven't been that devoted to a book in years--and everyone I've talked to has had a similarly difficult time putting them down.

Definitely give them a look, but I wouldn't recommend starting them unless you have all three available and enough time that you won't be neglecting things like socializing with rarely-seen extended family.