Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Selected Poems (Phoenix Poetry)
It was nice to sit down and not just read the odd Coleridge poem here and there, but to read several together. One sees, at least in this collection, his Christianity drop away and his gloom increase, and can only speculate on the role opium played in all this. I'm eager now to sit down with the Coleridge biography that's been sitting on my shelf for a decade or so.
Tim Powers: Medusa's Web: A Novel
An artful mix of science fiction and Hollywood fiction that will ring true to those of us who have lived in Hollywood, but were not in "the business." Tim Powers gets the landscape right, and that provides a good grounding for the truly other aliens he creates and those aliens' meddling in human affairs, particular the affairs of an odd family in a gothic estate—such places exist—just a few blocks north of Sunset. Unfortunately, and since I read this novel right after Jeanette Winterson's The Passion this was thrown into stark relief, Powers's sentences get the job done, but that is all.
Jeanette Winterson: The Passion
I remember when books like Oranges are Not the Only Fruit were appearing and readers around me, readers I respected, were excited. Somehow, though I never picked up a Jeanette Winterson novel until now. My loss. The Passion is a superb historical novel, that is superb precisely because it does not foreground the fustian and tedious detail that weigh down much of that genre, but rather is a book that can be read for its beautiful sentences. Set during the Napoleonic wars it weaves together the story of a cook in Napoleon's army and that of a gambler from Venice. One moves eagerly between the two tales, and the delight is only doubled when the story lines come together. Now, to start getting caught up with the rest of Winterson's work.
Giuseppe di Lampedusa: The Leopard
A self-aware Sicilian prince, the Leopard of the title, in the time of Garibaldi observes the world he has known crumble. Occasionally sad, occasionally furious, he watches for the most part with detachment; his creator, the author, Giuseppe di Lampedusa, views the Prince with humor and affection as he ambles through his life. There is no great action in the book, but Di Lampedusa makes the characters who surround the prince--Sicilians and Northerners, new men and old--human. His compassion for his characters, however flawed they are, reminds one, though the milieu couldn't be more different, of the greatest of all humanist artists, Yasujiro Ozu.
Edmund Crispin: Holy Disorders: Gervase Fen #2
I guess a novel published in the mid-1940s still qualifies as a Golden Age mystery, and thus legitimately partakes of the cleverness and silliness that characterize that category. One unusual aspect of Edmund Crispin's Gervase Fen books is that the title character, though typically eccentric and erudite, is also entirely unappealing. Indeed one becomes much more interested in characters who appear in this novel, Holy Disorders, but will not return in the rest of the series, because, well, they can't. I'd better stop here before giving anything away, because solving the puzzle is a big part of the attraction of novels of this sort, and advance knowledge would spoil the fun.
George Steiner: Errata: An Examined Life
I've always admired polymaths, and George Steiner definitely falls into that category. He berates himself, near the end of his memoir, Errata, for having spread himself too thin, for not having devoted his career to one or two of the big ideas he has written books about before moving on to other things. For me, though, it's precisely his breadth that fascinates, and it is no surprise that the thing he appears least interested in is himself. He devotes very little of this memoir to what he did when and why, but a lot to what he has thought about, studied, and learned. True, there are one or two chapters that begin with sentences like, "During the war years the French Lycée in Manhattan was a cauldron," but most chapters open with propositions such as: "It is plausible to suppose that the period since August 1914 has been, notably in Europe and Russia, from Madrid to Moscow, from Sicily to the Arctic Circle, the most bestial in recorded history," and proceed from those beginnings in essayistic fashion. Because Steiner is a great mind it is a pleasure to follow his thinking about music, war, place, God, and other topics. I hope that there is still a place in intellectual life for scholars who, like Steiner, decline to devote themselves to a narrow specialty.
Virgil: The Aeneid
Having no Latin and no Greek I don't know how accurate and faithful Robert Fitzgerald's translations are, but I do know, having read his Iliad and Odyssey, and now his Aeneid, that his versions are my Homer, my Virgil. The rhythm of the sentences, the vocabulary, the images that startle just as much as I'm sure they did in Greek and Latin keep one turning pages, hungry for the next delightful turn of event, turn of phrase. There were moments, reading the Aeneid, where I tired a bit of the nation-building agenda that seems to drive it, but these objections were quickly sloughed off and forgotten. So grand is the work that, as with all successful political art, it quickly rises above parochial concerns. I suppose I should look at some of the newer translations of the classics, but I don't suppose I ever will.
Kazuo Ishiguro: The Buried Giant: A novel
My first Ishiguro, and a new genre for me: Arthurian fantasy romance. In spite of pixies, ogres and dragons, it pretty much worked; I lost myself in the mannered prose and solid storytelling, and now want to know more about that period of history. I regretted the vague ending. There were other loose ends; I don't desire a sequel but if it came I care enough about the characters to want to read it. However, nothing here makes me reach for earlier Ishiguro. (Let me know if I should.) (****)
Graham Swift (and 24 others): The Penguin Book of the Beach
It was a brilliant idea to compile a book of short stories by world writers, all related to the beach: the sand, sun, sparkling sea, swimming, seaweed, fish. (Storms and dead bodies, too, of course.) Perfect reading in the run up to summer, and now I can’t wait to spend time on the real thing. (***)
Artemis Cooper: Patrick Leigh Fermor: An Adventure
Patrick Leigh Fermor: adventurer, lover, polyglot, grecophile, author, both bon vivant and frequenter of dive bars, at home with aristocrat and peasant, a person of courage, loyalty, and with an extraordinary gift for friendship. His eventful life is given a splendid and honest telling here. (***)
Jennifer Egan: A Visit from the Goon Squad
At first, the chapters came on like short stories about overlapping characters. Then it was annoying that these tour-de-force fragments seemed so arbitrary and hard to piece together. It finally coalesced into a novel--albeit one dashed to pieces--with characters I grew to love. After finishing, I’ve started right back at the beginning, to glean information about them that I missed first time around. It is an irritating book, but written with such verve, passion, inventiveness and skill that all is forgiven and then some. My favorite novel since "Atonement" maybe. (*****)
Jhumpa Lahiri: The Namesake
A story of an immigrant experience, of growing up, of relationships, told in a relentless present tense. It took me awhile to be wholly interested in the characters, but the straightforward, detailed telling gradually drew me in. (***)
Mark Haddon: A Spot of Bother
(author of the amazing “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time.”) This, about a UK middle-class family from multiple perspectives, is so light it practically reads itself. The psychological insights and sharp, amusing observations kept my interest. I'm not good with blood, so the gore sometimes made it a queasy read, but mostly it was a lot of fun. (***)
Marilynne Robinson: Gilead: A Novel
A dying pastor in the US Midwest in the 1950s writes a memoir to his young son. A triumph of voice. Novels are related to humanity’s burgeoning empathy. This extended mine. Haunting and affecting. (*****)