Despite this gap in my education, I do like to read fiction originally written in other languages. It is always interesting to see how authors that are products of different cultures handle characters, society and ideas in ways that I’m not always used to. Here are three that I’ve read recently that may be of interest—in translation, of course.

The tantalizingly titled Broken Glass Park by Alina Bronsky is technically a coming of age story. Seventeen year old Sascha Neumann was born in Moscow, but her fractured family moved to Berlin and took up residence in “the Emerald” a depressing series of apartment blocks populated mostly by recent immigrants to Germany. After the murder of her mother by her step-father, Sascha vows to tell the world about her mother’s life and seek revenge. With its direct style and gripping storyline, the strength of this novel is how it introduces the reader to a gritty world that feels very real but may not be familiar.

Me and You by Niccolo Ammaniti also has an adolescent main character, Lorenzo, but is set in a much more affluent neighborhood in Rome. In an effort to placate his parents who desperately want him to fit in at school, Lorenzo makes up a skiing holiday with fictitious popular friends. Instead of hitting the slopes, he hides out in the forgotten cellar of his family’s apartment building which he has stocked with books, food and video games. 

Reality interrupts his best laid plans for solitude in the form of his half sister who discovers his hideout and forces him to face some unpleasant truths. This slim book is written in a lyrical style that captures not only the character’s inner life but also the setting in a convincing way. If you enjoy this work, definitely check out his earlier novel I’m Not Scared for a similar, but darker, experience.

Speaking of darkness, there is a lot to be had in The Land at the End of the World by Antonio Lobo Antunes. Almost more of a fever dream than a novel, this is the story of a drafted Portuguese medic who is pouring out his life story to an unnamed stranger over the course of one day. The narrative skips in time but is primarily concerned with the narrator’s tour of duty in Angola during Portugal’s futile attempt to maintain political control of that land in the 1970s. The beautiful but devastating language is a perfect accompaniment to a tale that has little concern for power and everything to do with survival.

So don’t let your lack of language skills scare you away from fiction from other cultures. Thankfully there are many great works in translation available at the library.

Richard

My latest example of this phenomenon is the 2011 film Drive. With the title suggesting one long car chase, it is not the kind of film that would normally pique my interest. Having read a review or two that mentioned its imminent cult status, plus only needing a library card to view it, I decided to give it a try.

Now there definitely is a car chase or two in the film, but don’t let that scare you off. Drive is essentially a quirky modern day film noir with 80s highlights. A nameless anti-hero, played by Ryan Gosling, works as a part-time stunt driver and hires himself out as a getaway driver for cash. As with all film noir, things eventually fall apart but not before he develops an attachment to a single mother (Carey Mulligan) who lives down the hall in their seedy apartment complex. There are also great supporting performances by Albert Brooks, as the lead villain no less, and Bryan Cranston, who will always be Mr. White from Breaking Bad to me.

While the plot description sounds pretty standard, the tone of the film is not. Dialog is kept to a bare minimum and the odd romance, comprised of lots of significant stares but not much else, is contrasted with the hyper-violence of the crime plot. Though I definitely liked the film overall, I must admit that I got a little lost towards the end and began asking myself questions like “Who is that guy, and why is he getting killed?” 

Luckily, the library has the book the film was based on, Drive by James Sallis, to help me try and sort things out. With hardly a whiff of romance, this book is hard boiled and as straight down the line as they come. A quick read, at a mere 158 pages, it is stark and plot driven, but a lot of fun. If you want to continue the story, there is a sequel, aptly titled Driven, which has recently been published.

Are you a fan of 1980s synth music? Do you think it is perfectly acceptable to explain plot points with a montage and a cool song? If so you definitely want to check out the Drive Soundtrack. I would have sworn the bands were from the early 80s but they are all modern and hail from France, Montreal and Portland. Is it retro, a new trend or some odd version of nostalgia? Quite frankly, who cares? It is just freaking awesome to me.

So remember those lofty reasons for loving public libraries, but don’t feel ashamed to take a chance now and again. What have you got to lose?

Richard

Photo: Merrill Gosho, NOAA

Spring is slowly, very slowly this year it seems, lurching into view. It is time again to tend to the garden, clean out the house and, for some, wear a pair of shorts and a tee shirt way too soon. If you cast your eye out to Puget Sound, however, you might just be witness to another rite of spring: the return of the leviathans.

The leviathans in question happen to be gray whales. They are now making their way into Puget Sound during their northerly migration back to their arctic feeding grounds. While sightings are somewhat rare, they have been known to come in close to shore while feeding. Sometimes a little too close…

Now there are many, many books on whales at the library. Let me point out a few recent titles that are intriguing, unconventional and products of authors who are obsessed, perhaps at times a little unhealthily, with their subject.

The Whale: In Search of Giants of the Sea by Philip Hoare is a good place to start. The author, who usually writes biographies, has been fascinated by whales since childhood. This book is an entertaining journey that blends whale science, the history of whaling, literature and the author’s own experiences to try to find out why humans have been fascinated by whales for centuries.

D. Graham Burnett’s The Sounding of the Whale is another product of obsession but this time with an academic bent. Based on nearly a decade of research, this work chronicles the complicated and often disturbing relationship between humans and whales in the 20^th century. While well documented, this is no dry read, and the author’s entertaining and lively prose comes across on every page.

One just needs to read the title of Richard Ellis’ latest book, The Great Sperm Whale: A Natural History of the Ocean’s Most Magnificent and Mysterious Creature, to know that the author is devoted to his subject. And what a subject it is. Ellis lovingly describes the sperm whale in all its scientific, cultural, literary and historical glory and includes many fascinating illustrations.

Lurking at the back of all three of these books is an appropriately obsessional interest in that most famous of fictitious white whales: Moby-Dick. All three authors list Herman Melville’s tale as the inspiration for their fascination with the world of whales.

Due to its length and exhaustive nautical references, Moby-Dick is sometimes considered a hard sell. If you are among the doubters, you might want to check out the appropriately titled Why Read Moby-Dick? by Nathaniel Philbrick. This thin volume is an entertaining plea for the books continued relevance by an unabashed fan. He is also a bestselling author who knows a thing or two about good books.

But I think the prize for greatest whale-related obsession has to go to Moby-Dick in Pictures: One Drawing for Every Page by Matt Kish. The Ohio artist created an image a day for 18 months to coincide with the 552-page Signet Classics paperback edition of Moby-Dick. Each image is accompanied by a quote from the page and the artwork is quirkily low tech with old book pages and other miscellanea being incorporated. Ahab would approve of this artist’s obsessive fascination.

So no matter what your level of commitment, consider checking out a whale-related book in honor of the return of the gray whales to Puget Sound.

Richard

Why then, you might ask, is the book almost universally given the label “young adult” in reviews, by the publishing industry, and even where it is located on most library shelves? The fact is that Absolutely True lies in the ever growing grey area of, for lack of a better term, crossover books.

The idea of a book that appeals to both adults and young adults isn’t new. If you go back to ancient times, i.e. when I was in high school, you might remember titles like The Illustrated Man, The Chocolate War, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner and Brave New World as works that were defined as both adult and young adult friendly. Heck even Catcher in the Rye, the quintessential coming of age novel, is still cataloged in both adult and young adult here at the library.

The trend has only gotten stronger as the years have passed. Whole series of books, the Twilight Saga, the Inheritance Cycle, the Hunger Games, clearly appeal to both age groups. Interestingly, young adult books are one of the few profit-making areas for publishers these days and adult sales are driving this profitability. It appears that many adults have gotten over the stigma of reading a young adult novel.

So let’s just come out and admit it, adults read young adult books. So feel free to enjoy The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian with no guilt. You can even enjoy the cartoons. Go ahead and browse the well stocked Young Adult section at Everett Public. And by all means feel no shame in asking an “adult” librarian for help with selections that might stray into the forbidden YA area.

Chances are that librarian has a favorite, but rarely admitted to, liking for something that is sometimes labeled not suitable for adults. The Walking Dead is a pretty cool series after all…

Richard

Happily, I recently came across two excellent new documentaries that try to explore interesting topics and not just hit you over the head with ideology.

Last Train Home is an exploration of one of the largest human migrations ever. Every year, during the New Year’s holiday, 130 million workers in cities all over China return to their families in the country side. This is a monumental event, but the director, Lixin Fan, doesn’t examine it from the top down. Instead he records one family’s participation over several years. There is no narration to guide the viewer, but very soon you get immersed in the story of the Zhang family.

For 16 years both parents have been working in a garment factory to support their family. During all that time they have only been able to visit their children during the New Year’s holiday. The tension during these visits, not to mention the herculean labor of getting home, is intense. Add their teenage daughter Qin, who resents her parents’ absence and their emphasis on education, and you get a combustible mix.

Last Train Home offers no easy answers. Instead it allows you to take a peek into a different world and get immersed in a family’s struggle to survive.

Using a similar approach, A Film Unfinished examines a huge historical event, the Warsaw Ghetto, by focusing on the smaller details. In this case, the small detail is an unfinished propaganda film that the Nazis made in the Warsaw Ghetto just weeks before deportations to the death camps began. While the unfinished film was discovered in an East German archive after the war, another reel of outtakes came to light in the late 1990s.

Through interviews with survivors, testimony of one of the photographers and the disturbing outtake reel, A Film Unfinished does more than just document a historical incident. It illuminates the lives of those who lived through, and some who took part in, a pathetic attempt to obscure a horrible truth. This film is all the more powerful due to its refusal to offer a simple explanation of events. The viewer has to create any meaning or reasons why.

So take a chance and skip the partisan lecture the next time you watch a documentary. Your television will thank you.

Richard

Without planning to, I’ve ended up reading a lot of short story collections this year. I like to think I am drawn to the craft and skill it takes to write a compelling and memorable tale in a limited number of pages. In all likelihood though, it is probably my short attention span. In any case, here are four recent collections that you will find well worth your reading time.

Orientation: And Other Stories by Daniel Orozco.
Written over many years, this collection is a haunting mix of odd and darkly humorous situations and characters. How odd you ask? In “Officers Weep”, the love between two reluctant police officers is revealed via a police blotter report. “Shakers” follows the path of a California earthquake, primarily from the earthquakes perspective. The best of the bunch is “Orientation” where the reader is led around an office by an omniscient supervisor who introduces you to everyone’s darkest secrets.

Blueprints for Building Better Girls by Elissa Schappell
If you don’t care for odd and alienated, how about connected and full of rage? Schappells’ stories are loosely intertwined, via a series of mothers and daughters, and the contents are definitely under pressure. The writing is witty, direct and brutal. If you have cherished or sentimental notions about motherhood, children, dating, marriage, and (gulp) men this book is probably not for you. If you want a refreshingly honest and effective set of short stories, it is.

Burning Bright: Stories by Ron Rash
While the stories in this collection all vary in time period, from the Civil War to the present day, the setting of hardscrabble Appalachia is ever-present. Rash writes with an effective and economical style that highlights his characters attempts to accept, deny, or rebel against their environment. “Into the Gorge”, a tale of a man harvesting ginseng on state land that used to be his family’s, is particularly impressive.

After the Apocalypse: Stories by Maureen F. McHugh
It is hard to resist the end of the world. After the Apocalypse has it all. Plagues, drought, economic collapse, dirty bombs and, wait for it, zombies are all imagined causes for the beginning of the end. McHugh isn’t as concerned about the cause, however, as she is about the individuals who endure. Each story is unique and the characters are complex and richly drawn. The reader is left to confront the oddly disquieting fact that life goes on even after “the end”.

If the idea of taking on yet another 900+ page novel gives you pause, consider a short story collection. Your tired eyes will thank you and you just might be reading the next step in literary evolution.

Richard

But what if it is. What if that person does in fact want to do you harm? Worse yet what if it isn’t a person at all but some thing…

This little nugget of irrational fear is the basis for one of my favorite Science Fiction films, John Carpenter’s 1982 gem The Thing. Essentially this film is a game of “spot the monster.” You see, this thing is a shapeshifter that can perfectly mimic any living creature. The smallest bit of alien substance can infect the living with dire consequences.

Unfortunately for the denizens of isolated Outpost #31 in Antarctica, they have not read the script. One day a duo of determined Norwegians fly by shooting at a loose sled dog via helicopter. The seemingly irrational pair immolate themselves in the process and the residents of the Outpost take the distressed pup in. By the time they realize their mistake, it is anybody’s guess who is real and who isn’t.

One of the great aspects of this film is that it takes its time and dosen’t spell things out for the audience. The action builds slowly with the paranoia rising among the team as they desperately try to figure out who is who. It is also never clear, after repeated viewings on my part, who exactly gets “turned” and when. Throw in a wonderfully nihilistic ending and I promise you will never look at the family pet the same way after viewing.

One word of warning though. The Thing is no Ingmar Bergman on ice. When found out, this creature is no shrinking violet. Instead it erupts in a grotesque and bloody display of hyperkinetic evolution, desperate to defend itself and infect others. In other words, it can get pretty gross. Feel free to cover you eyes, especially during the kennel scene.

If you aren’t “thinged” out, you may be interested to know that The Thing actually has a long pedigree.

It all started with a short story by John W. Campbell published in 1938 titled “Who Goes There?”. The essentials of the story were born here, with an isolated Antarctic outpost doing battle with the mimic from another planet.

The first film based on the story was released in 1951 and was titled The Thing from Another World. The poles were switched, the creature became plant-based, and Cold War paranoia stood in for the fear of being absorbed and replicated. That’s Hollywood for you. Despite the changes it is still a fun film and has one of the best evil scientists ever created.

The latest version was released this year with the title of, what else?, The Thing. Billed as a prequel, this movie depicts what happened before those Norwegians showed up at the beginning of the 1982 film. Despite updated CGI effects and the welcome addition of a female lead, this film can’t hide the fact that it is essentially a remake. If you are a fan, though, it is definitely worth seeing how they tie details from the two films together. Curious how that bloody axe got embedded in the wall in the Carpenter version? This film will tell you.

So take a chance and decide on which replication of The Thing you most prefer. Just choose wisely.

Richard

But for some fictional detectives things aren’t that easy. Consider the plight of Commissario De Luca in Carlo Lucarelli’s excellent trilogy of Italian crime novels. De Luca is devoted to finding the truth. While in more stable times this might be admirable, in the chaotic and morally dubious world through which he navigates it is quite literally deadly.

In Carte Blanche, De Luca is a homicide detective in what is left of the crumbling fascist state in Northern Italy during the end stages of World War II.  With the Allies advancing ever closer and the partisans picking off those deemed to be collaborators, De Luca is charged with finding the murderer of Reinhard, a drug dealer with many influential and dangerous connections. Despite his strong desire to survive, he can’t resist trying to find the culprit.

The Damned Season finds De Luca in the chaos surrounding recently liberated Italy. He has fled to the countryside, with forged papers to hide his identity, but is picked up by a local partisan police officer, Leonardi, to help in the investigation of a murdered family. Leonardi knows full well that De Luca has a questionable background, but needs his skills. De Luca is once again torn between the practicalities of saving his skin and his strong to desire to find out what happened.

The final installment, Via Delle Oche, has De Luca resurfacing in Bologna a few years later. He has been appointed to the police force, despite his murky past, but is now in the lowly vice squad. When a suicide in a local brothel looks fishy, De Luca cannot let it go. This not only ruffles the feathers of the homicide squad but has far-reaching and unintended consequences.

All three novels are short, barely over a hundred pages, and written in a direct noir style with the facts being of utmost importance. These facts morph, however, and add to the morally ambiguous tone. De Luca’s main flaw is his dogged devotion to the truth as he continually tells himself that he is just a policeman doing his job.

In addition to offering a fascinating peek into Italian culture and politics, it is interesting to see how an Italian author applies some of the classic detective tropes. Most fictional detectives have a character trait that sets them apart from the mainstream. Comissario De Luca has no appetite. While his colleagues go on and on about the coffee or the pasta, he is only concerned about the case. Truly an odd duck indeed.

If you like your fictional detectives conflicted and want to explore a different world, definitely check out this series. Just don’t expect any recipes.

Richard

Oh Diane, I almost forgot. Got to find out what kind of trees these are. They’re really something.–Agent Cooper, Twin Peaks

At the risk of being identified as a non-native transplant, I must admit that I share Special Agent Cooper’s sentiments. The trees of the Pacific Northwest are amazing. Along with the sense of wonder comes a (perhaps unhealthy at times) desire to identify and learn more about the trees in the area. Luckily there is a wealth of information here at the Everett Public Library to help a tree enthusiast, if that is the correct term, find out more.

If your goal is to simply identify the tree, there are several guides from which to choose. The colorful and compact Sibley Guide to Trees is a good place to start. Illustrations of the leaves, fruit and bark of each tree are aids to identification and the coverage is nationwide.

For the diehard tree fancier, or simply the leaf obsessed, there is the Book of Leaves by Allen Coombes. Each leaf is shown at its actual size, though some editing was required for the Bigleaf Maple.

If you are willing to forgo comprehensive coverage in exchange for more in-depth information, two titles may be what you are looking for. The World of Trees by Hugh Johnson is well-organized, beautiful and chock full of useful and fascinating facts. Particularly helpful is the illustrated chart of growth rates. Now you can see just how soon that Sequoia you planted will dwarf your house. Trees: A Visual Guide is also stunning with the authors choosing a set of “remarkable trees of the world” to identify. How remarkable you ask? Try to deny your curiosity about a tree named the Strangler Fig.

Not surprisingly, the most fun, unique and quirky tree books come from the Pacific Northwest. One of my favorites is the innocuous sounding Trees of Seattle by Arthur Lee Jacobson. This labor of love lists over 1,300 different types of trees that reside within the city of Seattle. Each tree is documented and specific locations are given. The entries are opinionated and humorous while still being informative. Take this example from the entry for the Zelkova tree:

Of no floral beauty, yielding no useful fruit, Zelkova is, at least while young, decidedly plain. Its most interesting credit may be a name beginning with Z.

Ouch. Let’s hope there is a Trees of Everett someday.

Another gem is Northwest Trees by Stephen Arno & Ramona Hammerly. Exclusively about the trees native to the Northwest, this guide goes into great detail describing the appearance, location, ecological role, and history of each species. Every entry is accompanied by exquisite sketches of each tree in its natural habitat. Much more than a simple identification guide, this book borders on being a work of art.

So make a note to yourself to check out the tree books at the Library. They’re really something.

Richard

If this brief plot description of The True Deceiver by Tove Jansson sounds a bit like a fable from a children’s book, you wouldn’t be far off the mark. The author was an internationally known creator of illustrated chapter books for children. Her creations, the Moomins, earned her fame and a steady income for life. This odd and fascinating little book, however, is definitely for adults.

As Katri attempts to extort funds from Anna, the book becomes a battle of wits between the two. Much more than money is at stake, though. As the title suggests, this book is all about deception and its justification. During an argument over how to reply to fan letters, Anna states that children are innocent and can’t be fooled by false responses. Katri replies:

You sentimentalize them because they’re little. But the format doesn’t matter. I have gradually learned that everyone, absolutely everyone of every size, is out to get something. People want things. It comes to them naturally. Of course they get more skilful with age, and they’re no longer so disarmingly obvious, but the goal doesn’t change. Your children simply haven’t had time to learn how it’s done. That’s what we call innocence.

Don’t think the argument is all one-sided, though. Anna definitely gives as good as she gets. In the end it is very much up to the reader to decide who is truly taken advantage of both financially and morally.

The True Deceiver is a truly unique book and well-worth your reading time. Just don’t expect anyone to live happily ever after.

Richard