Passionately Detached Fiction

Why we like the stories that we do is a mysterious thing. Here at the library, we try to recommend books by creating categories for types of readers (those who like a particular genre, setting, subject, audience, etc.) and matching the book to the person. This works to a certain degree, but if you think about your own reading tastes it becomes clear that simple labels just aren’t sufficient.

I know that I am a mass of contradictions when it comes to what I like to read. Over the years I’ve learned that I veer from detached to passionate when it comes to the types of fiction I enjoy. As a case in point, consider two very different books that I just finished reading.

We’re Flying by Peter Stamm is a deceptively simple collection of short stories. Each tale illuminates a set of circumstances (sometimes mundane, other times extraordinary) in clear and direct language. The characters vary in age and location but all seem perplexed by existence and the choices they have to make.

“A Foreign Body” is the tale of an extreme cave explorer who has lost his nerve. “In the Forest” follows Anja who chose to live in the woods during her adolescence. “Seven Sleepers” is the touching story of an organic farmer finally finding a connection during an outdoor concert. Throughout the work, the narrator refuses to pass judgment, maintaining a distance that makes the stories all the more poignant and complex.

Distance is the last thing you will get from the narrator of Flea Circus: A Brief Bestiary of Grief by Mandy Keifetz. This is a very intense (and gripping) narrative of one woman’s not very successful attempt to maintain her equilibrium. The story moves back and forth in time but is grounded in a distinct event that is returned to again and again: the death of the narrator’s lover.

The novel takes the form of a journal, of sorts, with alphabetical headings. The author’s use of language is rich, witty and, if you give into the flow of it, it becomes quite captivating:

Clearly, as I say, I am not thinking clearly. This much is clear: my grief had deranged me. Split me into two camps. Inside me contend a keen like a sonic boom, and a survival instinct, a self-correcting keel. A keen and a keel.

In addition the novel has a distinct sense of place, effectively capturing an urban landscape of crowded tenements, colorful street life and a seedy bar in Red Hook.

So clearly I lack consistency when it comes to my taste in storytelling. If you share my Jekyll and Hyde tendencies when it comes to fiction, rejoice in the fact that we have a whole library full of books to satisfy our conflicting urges.

Richard

Melvil Dewey’s Odditorium

The Dewey Decimal System can be a cruel mistress. She promises to organize knowledge into nice neat sets of 10 and create a world of order and method. For the most part she succeeds. But oh those exceptions. They are enough to drive a certain type of highly organized personality, aka pretty much anyone who works in a library, a little bit mad.

Take fiction anthologies for instance. Here at EPL, if a series of short stories is written by one author the book is located in the fiction section by the author’s last name on the first floor. If, however, a tome has the audacity to have works by different authors between the covers, it is banished to the 800s at the back of the second floor. An outrage you say? I heartily agree.

To make things right, why not check out a few great recent anthologies that are worth rescuing from their Dewey enforced obscurity. Be warned though, it’s as if these books have sensed their shunned status and no longer care for the mainstream. They seem to have taken a turn for the odd, quirky and slightly disturbing.

The Weird: A Compendium of Dark and Strange Stories is as you might expect, pretty weird.  But it is a good weird. These aren’t stories of monsters and elves; they are more concerned with the hazy boundary between what is normal and what isn’t. The authors are an eclectic bunch (including the likes of Haruki Murakami, Franz Kafka and Stephen King) but they are all willing to push the envelope of reality. It is a large collection, clocking in at 1126 pages, but there is no need to read it cover to cover. Find a story that sounds intriguing and see where it leads.

As the cover might suggest, The Big Book of Adventure Stories is a visit to a somewhat foreign literary landscape from the past. While it might seem peculiar to modern tastes, the stories in this volume are chock full of tales of derring do, I believe that is still a word, where obstacles are faced and overcome with bravado. Featuring a cast of authors both famous and obscure, this title is anything but dull with intriguing story groupings such as: Megalomania Rules, Man Vs. Nature, Something Feels Funny, and Future Shock.

There are plenty of horror story anthologies but House of Fear stands out for the architectural setting of the stories contained within: the haunted house. Don’t expect a set of classic stories set in dilapidated Victorian mansions with creaky floorboards and door hinges in need of oil. Instead, the authors experiment with ideas and spaces that push the genre in unexpected directions while retaining the creepiness and unrelenting dread of a horror tale.

Much like the T-Virus in Raccoon City, the zombie story continues to spread and mutate at a seemingly unstoppable rate. If you are one of the infected, you will definitely want to sample some of the newest anthologies. 21st Century Dead: A Zombie Anthology lurches into the future with stories from an eclectic group of writers including Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter and the renowned Orson Scott Card. The New Dead also updates the genre and even incorporates social media in the story “Twittering from the Circus of the Dead” by Joe Hill. If you still aren’t sated, check out The Living Dead 2 which has even more stories of brains and mayhem.

So the next time you visit the library, do something unexpected. After checking out the well placed popular materials, stroll on up to the 2nd floor and see what the freaks and geeks of the 800s have to offer.

Richard

Wash Your Hands Thoroughly and Often

Call me paranoid, or perhaps just realistic, but I think it is pretty clear that the end is always near. It could be an earthquake, catastrophic climate change, an asteroid or, what the heck, even a zombie outbreak that does us all in. One of the most feared, yet oddly fascinating, paths to destruction is an epidemic disease “event.” I think withering away from disease is so dreaded not only because it would be a horrific way to go, but it seems so plausible. You only have to look at the past, both recent and ancient, to find possible candidates for a disease to do us in.

Let’s start with some symptoms:

Severe headache, weakness, general malaise and pains of varying severity in the muscles and joints, especially in the back. The patient feels as though he had been beaten all over with a club.

This is how you would feel, at first, if you were unfortunate enough to contract a deadly strain of influenza as described in American Pandemic: The Lost Worlds of the 1918 Influenza Epidemic by Nancy Bristow.  Bristow focuses on the American experience of the worst pandemic in recorded history which claimed 50 million lives worldwide and over half a million in the United States.  The author uses individual accounts and primary sources to paint an intimate and disturbing picture of the outbreak as it unfolds. She also brings to light the curious way society, once a pandemic is over, tries to forget it ever happened.

Almost all of Plasmodium’s maneuvers inside the body occur in utter secrecy. When it slips into the body, while it hides in the liver, and even after it emerges into the bloodstream and attacks blood cells, there is no itch, no rash, no sweaty forehead that belies the infestation roiling within.

This chilling description is from The Fever: How Malaria Has Ruled Humankind for 500,000 Years by Sonia Shah. Shah is an investigative reporter who skillfully describes Malaria’s parasitic relationship with humanity and our catastrophic inability to control, let alone eradicate it. Her dogged examination reveals that it is not only the disease itself but the attitudes of those who do not live in tropical climates that allow the scourge to thrive.

Once inside the animal, pestis travels through the bloodstream to the lymph nodes, where it starts to replicate. Eventually the lymph nodes swell and become the huge, boggy, exquisitely painful mass we know as bubo.

Yes, it is the dreaded Plague, or Black Death, as described in Wendy Orent’s Plague: The Mysterious Past and Terrifying Future of the World’s Most Dangerous Disease. A truly apocalyptic disease, wiping out 40% of the European population during the Middle Ages, the plague has shaped human history and still inspires terror. Despite the advent of antibiotics, Orent tells us, the plague is far from a thing of the past and not only survives but thrives in many parts of the world as it continues to evolve. Worse yet, the weaponization of the disease is far from fiction.

To read the history of epidemics is to follow a long story of the fears that go beyond the dread of death, the anxieties that make us who we are.

This intriguing nugget is from Dread: How Fear and Fantasy Have Fueled Epidemics from the Black Death to the Avian Flu by Philip Alcabes. Through health statistics and a study of historical epidemics, Alcabes makes a persuasive argument that our fear of catastrophic disease far outweighs the reality. This fear whether real or imagined, not only reveals the mores of the time but can lead to destructive and counterproductive actions. Most disturbing of all, the author illustrates how individuals and institutions use the fear of epidemics to push their own agendas.

So maybe I am just being paranoid. But then again, why does everyone seem to be coughing?

Richard

Getting to Know the Neighbors

Let’s face it. The universe is a big scary place. Infinitely vast and consisting mostly of an airless vacuum inhospitable to human life, it rarely inspires feelings of comfort and joy. It is also chock full of phenomena that are a little too mind bending for me. A black hole is a point from which light can’t escape? Really?

I’ve always considered our solar system comforting in comparison. There are a set number of planets (don’t get me started on Pluto) that orbit a single life giving star. Sure there are wildcards, comets and meteorites, and it will eventually end badly for the earth (hello red giant) but the solar system has always seemed more tangible and understandable than the inky blackness of space.

Now is a great time to revisit our nearest celestial neighbors. Reflecting the new information that is being discovered every day, there are many new books that are entertaining and take a fresh perspective on our home system.

The new edition of The Cambridge Guide to the Solar System is a great place to start your journey. Far from a stuffy or dry text, this work is full of intriguing information, colorful photos, and cutting edge science. The science can get a bit technical at times, but never fear, there are helpful summaries that allow those of us who haven’t dedicated our lives to figuring out elliptical planetary orbits to get the concepts.

While it may be hard to believe, behind our local cloud cover there is actually a bright glowing orb that powers everything in the solar system. The Sun’s Heartbeat by Bob Berman is a “biography” of our local star that entertains as well as informs the reader through a series of stories on topics as varied as sun spots to solar winds. If your concern is less with the sun itself than the sun’s impact on humanity, definitely check out Chasing the Sun by Richard Cohen. Cohen’s book is an exhaustive and fascinating examination of the sun’s importance across time and cultures.

It is almost 100% certain that most of us are not going to leave the earth’s atmosphere anytime soon.  That’s why books such as The 50 Most Extreme Places in Our Solar System by David Baker and Todd Ratcliff are great.  This book is essentially a travel guide to very inaccessible places. Of course with chapter titles such as “The Hardest Rain: Diamond Hail on Uranus and Neptune” it might be a good thing to be earth bound.

If you find diamond hail an interesting phenomenon, you will definitely want to check out the rest of the solar system’s weather by reading Drifting on Alien Winds by Michael Carroll. From the acid drenched atmosphere of Venus to the centuries old earth-size cyclone that is the giant red spot of Jupiter the author paints a vivid picture. Carroll is also interested in the vehicles, real and imagined, that have been used to explore the planets’ atmospheres and uses his talents as an artist as well as a scientist to bring them to life.

Finally, if speculation grounded by scientific reason is your thing, the book What if the Earth Had Two Moons? by Neil Commins is the title for you. In ten different scenarios the author changes one element in the evolution of the earth (a second moon, a thicker crust, a smaller sun) and contemplates what might have been. This book is a boon for hard sci-fi fans who like to dream of creditable alternatives to our known reality.

So if you want to bask in the relative comfort of our solar system, make your first stop the Everett Public Library.

Richard

Found in Translation

Of the many things I regret not having mastered in life, the ability to read and speak another language well is a major one. Sure I took German in high school and, don’t laugh, Latin in college. But other than asking for directions in Vienna (wo ist die Bibliothek?) or declining a few pronouns with the Pope (Hic, Haec, Hoc) most of my severely limited foreign language ability has little use.

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

Taking a Chance on Drive

There are many lofty reasons to be fond of public libraries. Their promotion of literacy, the way they bring the community together, and, of course, ensuring access to all kinds of information. But there is another reason and it is one of my favorites: The ability to root around in pop-culture’s closet for free.

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

Up From the Depths

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 20th 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

Not Suitable for Adults

Judging by the age of people coming to our Everett Reads programs, it is clear that the appeal of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie is not confined to one age group. This was especially evident when the author spoke at the Performing Arts Center on Feb. 4. People of all ages were laughing, talking and engaging with the author on that night.

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

Reality Doesn’t Bite

I hate to admit it, but it has been a while since I’ve watched a documentary film. It’s not that I think they are slow or boring, it is just that recent documentaries seem created to express a single point of view. I’ve never been a fan of this approach. Either you agree with the filmmaker and learn nothing new, or you end up throwing something—preferably a soft slipper or dog toy—at the television in utter disbelief.

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

A Natural Selection

From IQ84 to 11/22/63 it seems that heavyweight fiction has become the dominant species lately. Much like the lumbering dinosaurs of the late Cretaceous, their size and formidable presence seem to ensure endless days at the top of literary food chain. But if you look beyond the bulk, you will see that the highly adaptable and diminutive short story has also had some striking successes lately.

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