Category Archives: reading

12

List time!

As you know well if you’ve read this blog around year’s end, we’re awfully fond of lists around here.  And judging by the proliferation of lists on the internet, they must appeal to a vast number of others as well (unless the internet is written purely for the sake of us at DGLM, in which case, thanks!).  So I was delighted to come across this Guardian list of greatest nonfiction books.  Unlike with lists of novels, where I usually feel pretty confident that I’ll come out OK if I go through to see how many I’ve already read, this one’s pretty daunting.  I’ve partially read Said’s Orientalism for a class, have always pretended to myself that Decline and Fall is coming up real soon on my list (plus Sally Draper read parts of it that time), and I’m pretty certain I once got assigned Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee and claimed to have read it.  I minored in philosophy in college, so I’ve read parts of some of each of those texts, plus all of The Symposium.  Likewise, I’ve dabbled in a number of the politics books for classes.  Like most people, I imagine, I’ve read Anne Frank’s diary, and like most English majors, I hope, I know all about Virginia Woolf’s very own room.  I think I may have read Ways of Seeing for a class as well. But of everything on this list, all 100 titles, I’ve read only two in full, purely because I wanted to: Michel Foucault’s Discipline and Punish and Philip Gourevitch’s riveting and heartbreaking We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed with our Families.

Reading through the rest of the list, I can flag any number of things I feel I should read (A Brief History of Time, The Communist Manifesto, The Medium is the Massage, The Prince, The Periodic Table) and a few I think I even genuinely want to (In Cold Blood, Slouching Towards Bethlehem).  For the most part, though, it looks to me like a lengthy and, while perhaps edifying, boring homework assignment.  So help me out here, readers:  which of these have you read, and of those, which would you really recommend?  I actually love all kinds of thoughtful and educational nonfiction, and feel a silly amount of pressure to be “well read,” but at this point in my life and with the near infinite number of book options and finite number of hours, I’d prefer not to read anything else merely because it proved to be important.  I think I have enough of an education to have a good sense of why some books matter in the grand scheme of things and why they find themselves in the canon, but since no one’s asking me to write essays about them anymore, I just don’t have it in me to read them solely for that reason.  For a moment, let’s categorize greatest simply as most enjoyable or entertaining or moving.  By that rubric, I’d definitely keep Gourevitch on, but I’m not sure I could say the same for Orientalism, which is a bit of a slog. What do you think still belongs on this list?  What would you add?  What would you definitely remove?

4

The lasting effect of literature

With each passing year comes a certain degree of increased life experience and maturity—we all gradually become a little less impressionable, a little more jaded.  I think that, in many ways, the same can be said for the reading experience.  When read by a grade school or high school student, the influence that a novel’s themes or imagery can have are understandably deeper and farther-reaching than when absorbed by an older, more well-read adult.  Unfortunate? Maybe. I can remember a few certain novels that I first read years ago that, upon rereading, felt somewhat less emotionally impactful than I remember.

Despite this, what I felt always remained, thankfully, was the same sense of enchantment that certain stories evoked, regardless of age.  Gary Paulsen’s Hatchet, Katherine Paterson’s Bridge to Terabithia, and yes, even the Harry Potter books still manage to provide for me the same thrill that they did years ago. And this article from the Wall Street Journal poses the same concept from a slightly different viewpoint.

Do you agree/disagree? Are there certain books from your youth that still manage to draw you in and give you the same sense of admiration that they did as a child?

5

What to read?

One of the blessings of working in the publishing industry is that you’re given plenty of books for free. Right now, I’ve got three stacks of books and galleys on my desk, plus another tower on my night table at home, none of which I actually bought. And it’s not like they’re all cast-offs or remainders, either. We’re talking front-list, big-book titles here—in other words, good stuff!

Yet, as much as I appreciate the swag, I find that sometimes it’s a curse as well. The constant availability of books means that I often procrastinate on reading what I actually want to read—or worse, I don’t get to them at all. I’m a huge fan of the Hunger Games books, but it took me months to get around to Mockingjay, not because of the reviews or word-of-mouth, but because I simply had other stuff that looked intriguing at hand.  And I still haven’t gotten around to A Visit from the Good Squad. Or Freedom.

Are the freebies books I would have sought out and purchased? Probably not. But in most cases I was glad to read them, and certainly there’s an educational benefit to reading books on subjects I’d never consider while browsing in the store. On the other hand, it’s been years since I read any classics, because that would mean actually going out and getting the books—and I do worry that my sense of perspective has become limited to what’s contemporary.

I know, it’s pretty obnoxious to complain about having too many free books… and okay, when it comes to book shopping I’m remarkably lazy, too. But still, I’m curious: do you ever put off reading what you want for what’s at hand? Or are you always more focused in your reading choices? If so, do you have a varied reading list? Any strategies for mixing things up?

0

Summer mode

Several things have me thinking about summer today. It’s the most gorgeous day ever, summer Fridays have begun, my babysitter is on vacation, and I’m fantasizing about my own summer trips—to San Francicso, to visit my new nephew and celebrate my 10th wedding anniversary, and to Maine at the end of August, to spend a week with family eating lobster, among other things. It got me thinking of a topic a couple of us have explored recently: summer reading.

I came upon some reviews and press about a new novel getting attention entitled simply Maine by J. Courtney Sullivan, a well-reviewed young writer. This sounds to me like the perfect vacation read, not to mention the kind of commercial women’s fiction I like best, about four women from the same extended family coming together at a beach house in Maine and all the emotional baggage that comes with it.

The other book that has grabbed my attention after seeing it at Book Expo, and reading some wonderful reviews is Ann Patchett’s new novel, State of Wonder. I’m a big fan of hers, and this new book looks very promising.

Those are the top two on my list right now. I’m wondering if anyone out there has read either book yet, and if you have any positive or negative feedback to share. I already ordered a copy of Maine, thinking it would be nice to share it with my mom and sister-in-law while we’re trying to relax in Maine (with 6 kids 6 and under, I think that concept might be akin to fiction, but I’m hoping for the best!).

3

Parks and reading

This past Sunday, in a futile effort to wear out our toddler so that he just might take an afternoon nap, we got moving early and checked out the new extension of the High Line. For those who haven’t been, the High Line is the park that’s been developed on the abandoned elevated train tracks that run from Greenwich Village up to 30th Street along the West Side. Conceptually, it’s an amazing space—narrow and industrial, yet full of greenery and neat architectural features, plus the views are spectacular. For anyone visiting New York these days, I’d put it on the must-see list.

Anyway, as we paraded uptown from 18th Street, I noticed more than a few people sitting on the benches reading newspapers and books. In the moment, it seemed a little odd to me—while there’s ample seating on the High Line, the walkway is so tight in places that it’s hard to believe one could concentrate with passers-by literally walking on top of you. But then I started thinking about the open spaces or parks around town where I go to read, and it’s actually a total mix of quiet and bucolic, noisy and public.

For instance, when I was at Penguin and worked from home on Fridays, I’d often hit one of the relatively uninhabited stretches of Riverside Park, especially a certain walkway that becomes a truly mind-blowing explosion of color when the trees start to bloom in late April. (sorry, I’m not telling where!) Or, later in the season, I’d go down to the Hudson River to catch the breeze off the water—likewise, a very quiet spot to read during the day.

Yet at the same time, I’d sometimes plant myself on a bench in Washington Square park, which is one of the busiest in the city, no matter what time of day. Another favorite bench spot is at the boat pond in Central Park, which is lovely but always full of tourists and kids running around. And then there’s the Sheep’s Meadow, where I’ve actually done a lot of quality reading despite the ever-present threat of getting beaned by a Frisbee.

I’d like to think there’s some correlation between what I’m reading and where I want to read it, or what kind of atmosphere, but I can’t really come up with any pattern or system at the moment. So I guess I’ll just chalk it up (as Lauren and others have written before) to the myriad pleasures of reading in nature. But what about you? Any special green spots here in the City or elsewhere that readers should know? Do you find you gravitate toward different parks or types of parks depending on your reading material?

Now that I’ve got this all down on the blog, I’ll certainly have these questions in mind—and maybe, if you get up on the High Line in the near future, you just might see me head down in a book!

8

Summer reading

I have to echo John in hoping that everyone had a nice Memorial Day weekend! There’s just something about a three-day weekend that really recharges things. And who can begrudge the unofficial start of summer. In true form, I managed to give myself my annual Awkward Uneven Starter Sunburn—yes, annual—so it looks like things are off to a solid start!

Aside from vacations and warm weather and sunburns, the best part of summer is the ubiquitous summer reading list. I’m a sucker for a good beach read, so I’m on the lookout for a bunch of new titles I can put aside for my summertime reading. I thought I’d also share this list from Entertainment Weekly of eighteen books they recommend for the summer. For myself, there are a few titles I’m interested in reading: Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Jeannette Walls’s The Glass Castle, and Lauren Oliver’s Before I Fall, to name a few. There are also a couple of series I’ve been meaning to dive into.

How about you? In contrast to Lauren’s post from last week, I want to know what YOU plan to read this summer. Are there certain titles that have been sitting on your shelf (or that you’ve been meaning to purchase) that you hope to finally pick up? Or maybe you plan to revisit a classic? Let me know!

5

A sunny Friday afternoon

So as you all know from reading the blog all week, BEA has just wrapped up, which means I’ve spent most of my week at the Javits Center.  Happily, I spent much of that in the one room in the place that’s sunny:  the International Rights Center.  It’s an unoriginal thought to be sure, but it remains surprising that a building made of glass has so little natural light.  Of course that also means that I have about a thousand (give or take) unanswered emails to take care of, and that’s before I even contemplate doing the follow up from my meetings, so time is a touch on the short side today.

It’s also short because today marks the return of publishing’s greatest tradition since the death of the three-martini lunch:  summer Fridays.  That hallelujah chorus of angels you hear is all the people in NY publishing frolicking in the sunshine having left their offices at 1.  I’ll be joining them as soon as I clear my inbox and desk of the appalling number of contracts that piled up while I was out (I know: good problem to have!).  One of my favorite things to do of a summer Friday is head home, ride my bike to Prospect Park or Coney Island, and read a book from cover to cover in the sunshine before meeting up with some friends for al fresco dining and drinks.  If you’ve never been in NY in the summer (and can handle a pedestrian city with humidity issues), it’s really the most glorious place.  Sunshine, warmth, free movies in the parks, and outdoor margaritas really bring out the best in us, and the transition from dreary winter through rainy spring to gorgeous summer is the best time of year to find people who aren’t wondering why on earth they live here.  It also helps that summer means getting out of town, and there is no time a New Yorker more loves New York than when he or she is just coming back from being somewhere else.

So in the interest of actually getting out of here before sundown so I can welcome the summer Friday back into my life, I’m asking you to do the heavy lifting for me:  what should I read, guys?  I’m looking for books that are fun, light, and not so dense that being distracted by a cool breeze will make me forget what happened on the last page.  Fiction or nonfiction, YA or adult, virtually any category will do!  I just need something that I can and would want to read in one sitting that will fill me with joy rather than ennui.  Books about death or intractable political conflict are best for rainy days, I find.

0

A Worldwide Book Club

It’s BEA this week, so we are all running circles around the Javits Center and waiting for news of book deals, gossip, and trying to catch up with friends and editors we only have a chance to see during this annual book pilgrimage.

I thought it would be a good time to talk about something that aims to get people reading. Jeff Howe, a professor at Northeastern and contributor to The Atlantic, has resurrected the very cool book club he started last spring that attracted 12,000 reader to Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. He’s renamed it 1book140, and its goal is to get as many people as possible around the world together reading a single title chosen by his readers. Check out the list of books for a fun exercise in commercial and literary fiction. You’ll have ample time to get involved, even if you miss the first month since it will continue indefinitely with a new book being chosen each month. It’s a little hard to navigate the articles about the club, but here’s a bit about the criteria for chosen books.

I think it’s a great opportunity to get reading, and get involved in the larger reading community. The nominations are based on popular demand, so vote for your favorite before polls for this month close May 26. My pick is The Keep by Jennifer Egan, who just won the Pulitzer. Let us know what your picks are, and if you’ll be reading along with this new literary endeavor. Do  you have any suggestions for titles that aren’t on this first lengthy list?
14

Do I have to like an author to enjoy reading their work?

This week there was a big brouhaha over Philip Roth winning the Booker prize.

How could someone so unlikeable be celebrated in such a prominent way, many asked.

This made me think—does a writer’s personal reputation affect the opinions of those who read him or her?  Two examples came quickly to mind:

The first is Jonathan Franzen.  When I picked up The Corrections, it was right in the middle of Franzen’s refusal to go on Oprah after she picked his book for her book club.  How dare he?  But I read the novel anyway.  It was indeed brilliant, but I have to say that because of my take on the author’s arrogance, I didn’t love it.  And despite the fact that friends and colleagues have raved about Freedom, I have absolutely no desire to read it.

And then there is James Frey.  I never read A Million Little Pieces and after the news that much of it was fabricated came out, again, I had no desire to.  But I was curious about his novel, Bright Shiny Morning.  I did read the book, which I thought was interesting and well done, but I didn’t fall in love. I think one of the main reasons for that was the author’s personal reputation.

So what do you think?  With all the wonderful books to choose from, are you affected by the author’s notoriety?

11

MFA Cookie Cutters and Celebrity Pie

This week, I am grateful to frequent DGLM blog commenter Wanda B. Ontheshelves, who wondered if I might comment on Laura Miller’s essay in Salon on MFA programs and the debates they inspire.  As it happens, I’m all for MFA programs. Are they the only route toward publishing literary fiction? No. Are they useful? You bet. Like Miller, I’ll support anything that supports writers, and MFA programs surely do this. Not only do they allow aspiring writers time and space to work, the faculty positions keep many a published author financially afloat.

In any case, the alleged problem of “cookie cutter fiction” issuing forth from MFA programs strikes me as less lamentable than the ever-growing tide of celebrity books.  Last week I happened to catch WNYC’s Leonard Lopate interviewing actor Rob Lowe about his recently published memoir, Stories I Only Tell My Friends.  With apologies to fans of The West Wing and St. Elmo’s Fire, I was underwhelmed.  Maybe it was the traffic, but just for a moment, I wanted to beat my head–ever so gently–against the steering wheel. Not so much because Rob Lowe is so especially abhorrent. His tone was self-congratulatory, but affably so. And in fairness I must add that not only have I not read his book, the reviews I’ve seen have been positive, even glowing. All take pains to note that Lowe penned the book himself, without help. Indeed, the degree to which Lopate and assorted others have marveled at his not working with a ghost-writer was just a teensy bit insulting.

So what’s my problem? Celebrity authors are nothing new (here’s Lauren’s take, a few months back) and as far as publishing houses are concerned, finding an author who has a name is certainly easier and less of a gamble than making one, but I feel like the VIP Lounge here in bookworld grows increasingly and uncomfortably crowded. As all of you will have surely noted, the film and television stars of decades past have gone onto second careers as authors, and if there is something somewhat cookie cutter-ish about their stories of transgression/redemption, the price of fame and the struggle for authenticity, it’s not because they enrolled in MFA programs.

What do you think? Am I just being cranky? Or does it seem to you that the celebrity driven nonfiction is an ever-growing slice of the publishing pie?

I wonder if this is actually true. Perhaps this week I’ll try and find out and report back.