Category Archives: reading

13

Reading is fundamental

by Chasya

I spent a lot of my youth at the Brooklyn Public Library—every Friday afternoon, in fact. The thrill of going to the library with my mom and picking out as many books as I wanted (for free!) was one of the highlights of my week. I’d walk around with my little brother and doggedly search the shelves, working to build up enough books to earn my free RIF book with the Berenstain Bear sticker on the inside cover.  Today is Library Advocacy Day, which will replace National Library Legislative Day this year because of the terrible state many of our libraries our in. With budget cuts being issued nationwide, many of our beloved libraries have been or are in danger of being shut down.

So today, in honor of our libraries and librarians, I welcome you all to share some of your fond library memories. If you’d like to find ways to help, you can visit the ALA website.

9

To Kill a Classic

by Rachel

I read To Kill A Mockingbird twice as a high school student—once as an eleventh-grader in Australia, and then again the following year as a senior in the States. I was going to take an American literature course in college which examined the story further, but decided against it; I worried re-reading and overanalyzing the text would ruin the book for me. After reading it a couple of times and liking it, I’m thinking of taking it on once again this summer—as a reader this time, not as an overly analytical student.

Part of my decision to read To Kill A Mockingbird again comes from wanting to prove Allen Barra wrong, after reading his Wall Street Journal article. In this piece, Barra tells his readers that it’s time to “stop pretending that ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ is some kind of timeless classic that ranks with the great works of American literature.” He believes there’s no ambiguity in the text of the book; that its “bloodless liberal humanism” is dated, and declares Flannery O’Conner’s writing a far worthier subject for high-school readers.

Allen Barra may complain of the book lacking ambiguity, but I’ve got to admit how much I enjoyed this book—twice. Combining controversial and eye-opening themes of injustice, courage and innocence, with Harper Lee’s simple and elegant narrative style, I think To Kill A Mockingbird is an incredibly relevant piece of literature that I hope will continue to be read in schools for years to come.

Do you think To Kill A Mockingbird is worthy of praise? Or, do you think it’s time to give students something else to read? If you agree with Allen Barra’s thoughts on the book, what do you think should be next on the curriculum for high school kids to read?

4

Relevant much?

by Miriam

Amidst the usual panicky, hyperbolic, and sometimes comical publishing headlines to be found throughout the blogosphere—“Is Fiction Culturally Irrelevant?” “Holly Golightly Is a Call Girl…” (for reals?); “Are Publishers More Worried about eReaders Than Readers?”—the one that caught my eye yesterday was “Where Have All the Mailers Gone?” In this piece, Lee Siegel essentially argues that fiction has no contemporary giants who push the artistic envelope, no rabblerousers who shine their penlights on dark and murky social issues, no literary prodigies able to hold their own against ascendant nonfiction writers who are telling true tales in stylish and entertaining ways (what fiction writers used to do during their glorious heyday).

Ridiculous!

This is the kind of piece that makes me think someone’s more interested in being provocative than making sense (and, really, the piece itself is somewhat incoherent). I love reading Michael Lewis’ work and thoroughly enjoy the political narratives that pass for nonfiction these days (Game Change comes readily to mind) as well as all the Gladwellian theory-of-everything books and the edge-of-your-seat adventures that routinely dot the bestseller lists. But c’mon! What about Dave Eggers? Jonathan Franzen? Jhumpa Lahiri? Joshua Ferris? Junot Diaz? What about Stieg Larsson and Alexander McCall Smith? Is Mr. Siegel really saying that to be “culturally relevant” you have to live your life in the press and stir up more controversy because of your public bouts of immaturity than your writings? (As far as I’m concerned, Norman Mailer’s art was all too often obscured by his life.)

In an age when reality is too much with us, today’s great fiction writers allow us to escape the oppressiveness of the literal while putting our life and times into digestible and often brilliantly entertaining context. What’s more culturally relevant than that?

23

Fictionalizing Anne Frank

by Chasya

A few weeks ago I asked you all about your thoughts on books that reinvent some of your favorite characters, like Shakespeare’s Juliet. So when I read in the Guardian about a recent dispute centered around Sharon Dogar’s book Annexed, a novel that fictionalizes Anne Frank and, as the article put it, “should probably bear the subtitle of Peter van Pel’s Imaginary Diary,” I thought I would bring this to a blog vote as well.

Meg Rosoff makes the point that Anne Frank’s trust has every right to be upset (and says that is, in effect, what they’re supposed to do). She points out, however, that writers should be allowed to write whatever they like so long as they do it well, though she herself doesn’t approve of what Dogar is doing. I, too, feel uncomfortable with the notion of Frank being used this way. As someone who’s read and enjoyed one or two Philippa Gregory novels though, I wonder if this reaction is due more to who the fictional character is based on.

So now I turn to you for your opinion: Has Dogar done something wrong, or does she have the right to use Anne Frank’s history and make it her own?

5

A shelf of firsts

by Rachel

Reading Ralph Gardner Jr’s Wall Street Journal article on first editions brought back a memory of when I was younger. I remember my Grandfather’s office being crowded by shelves of antiques, souvenirs from abroad, and of course – books! There was a particular bookshelf filled with random books on world history, genealogy, and sports (in fact, there were too many books on cricket for my liking. No one really needs to know so much about that sport, do they?). In a smaller bookcase in the corner of the room, there was a shelf dedicated to first editions. And of course, because my Grandfather treasured these books, they were kept on the highest shelf where grandchildren were unable to reach!

I don’t own any first editions, but because of my Grandfather’s love of them, I’m always interested to know the titles people own, and whether or not they went out of their way to find them, or if the books were simply passed down through the years.

So, if you’re big on first editions, care to share what titles you own and how you acquired them? If not, do you have a first edition title you’d pay a high price for?

23

The definition of insanity

by Lauren

Reading Miriam’s post the other day, I was totally delighted by all the great/bad books.  I’m not sure I can make a top five list, because I’m incredibly contrary and like to overthink lists before I commit to them, but Moby Dick, Jane Eyre, and the collected works of Charles Dickens (sorry, Jim!) and John Steinbeck (sorry, Rachel!) would at least be in my top 25.

The thing that struck me most, though, was several of you mentioned reading these books multiple times.  I particularly loved that Kerry went back to a book she hated the first time, which I can’t even imagine. I just can’t do it, myself.  With very few exceptions (the odd children’s book I don’t remember well; Gatsby once to try to understand a reference to it that still makes no sense), the only books I re-read are manuscripts I’m editing.  Even when I love the books, I find re-reading has none of the enjoyment for me that reading for the first time does.  I find it near impossible to focus, knowing what’s coming next.  (It’s probably for the best that I never became a copyeditor, for that and other reasons.)

The idea doesn’t bother me: On the one hand, there are so many books to read, it seems a waste to read one of them multiple times.  On the other hand, you’re never going to read them all anyway, so what’s the harm?  I just can’t actually do it in practice.

Anyone else? Re-readers, tell me, why? Do you easily read every word, have no objection to skimming, or struggle with the impulse? And is there a certain kind of book you find re-readable when others aren’t? A thriller doesn’t sound like much fun the second time. Enlighten me below!

1

Summer reads

by Jessica

I’m just back from a glorious, albeit brief, not-quite-summer vacation, so have very few substantive publishing insights to share. I was, however, fortunate enough to head out with a few good books tucked into my suitcase. First, The Imperfectionists, which is an arresting and impressive debut novel from former foreign correspondent and editor Tom Rachman. Set at an international English language newspaper based in Rome, something like a second rate International Herald Tribune, each chapter tells the story of a staffer (plus one avid, eccentric reader) ranging from a would-be stringer to a bitter copyeditor to the paper’s miserable CFO. Although these are essentially linked short stories, together they tell a larger tale about this paper in particular and the newspaper business in general (both sliding into oblivion), and the bittersweet, utterly recognizable lives of the men and women who labor on its behalf. The Imperfectionists has garnered terrific reviews—perhaps in part because the people who review books are very often journalists who delight in reading about themselves. But whatever the case, the clever, unorthodox, non-linear structure was refreshing, and for me, a good omen.

There is a fear that the book world is becoming homogeneous; I often hear people complain that the books “out there” are somehow cut from the same cloth. While I hardly think that present publishing climate is some Panglossian best of all possible worlds, I’m still struck by the sheer variety of the books I encounter, personally and professionally.

Indeed, two other new books that vacationed with me—both Book Expo handouts—were also unusually shaped. Neither Antonya Nelson’s Bound—a character driven novel of two disintegrating families, nor The Midnight Choir, by Gene Kerrigan a terrific, gritty Dublin crime novel that weaves together the stories of assorted police and criminals in the now bygone era of the Celtic Tiger, were quite so short-fiction-ish as The Imperfectionists, but each work was expansive and sprawling enough to push the boundaries of the conventional novel.

I also read an ARC for The Thousand by Kevin Guilfoile, a smart but preposterous thriller in the DaVinci Code vein that Knopf is publishing. The premise, that the world is run by warring cults of Pythagoreans (who are involved in more than just geometry), hits all the right notes—arcane ancient knowledge, secret cabals of powerful elites, plus a dose of speculative fiction—but it’s not my cup of tea. I must lack the conspiracy theory gene. I can’t bring myself to believe that any society, secret or otherwise, is so remarkably organized.

I would however, like to know what you’re reading, or planning to read, on vacation. Like Chasya and Stacey, who recently posted on the subject of summers reads, I welcome recommendations.

34

Reading can be not fun

by Miriam

Reading this fun piece about books that have been “described, whether by critics or the authors themselves, as the Ulyssi of their respective cultures” made me remember how much I loathed James Joyce’s masterpiece when we spent what seemed like five years studying it in a graduate school seminar. Maybe it was our professor’s vaguely fascist insistence that this was a masterwork surpassing all others, or my exhaustion at the tautological discussions of the gorgonzola theme in the book, but this class may have influenced my decision to forgo getting a Ph.D. and venture into the publishing business instead.

We’ve all come across books that other people consider the most, the best, the greatest and that we found unreadable. Here are my top five what-are-people-thinking-when-they-rave-about-them-or-force-you-to-study-them-in-school books (the list is, of course, subject to change):

The Iliad
The Scarlet Letter
Moby Dick
Ulysses
The Catcher in the Rye

What are yours?

5

And you thought you had problems….

by Chasya

I do love dissecting a good book, and even more so, it’s characters. Which is why this piece by the Wall Street Journal had me at hello. Turns out I’m not the only person who diagnoses fictional characters using the DSM-IV, the bible of psychiatric diagnosis (I also tend to do this to historical figures, just FYI). Turns out, this is a very good teaching tool for psychiatric residents, too. Various universities are now picking apart the neuroses and ticks of your favorite fictional characters. Turns out Twilight’s broody vamp Edward may have a serious case of arrested development, and your favorite Winnie the Pooh characters suffer from everything from generalized anxiety disorder to dysthymia.

I mean, what was up with that Don Quixote? Hearing voices? Believing he’s a knight? Fighting windmills he thinks are actually giants? Clearly delusional disorder, right? As a reader, I find this added layer in character dissection just an interesting topic for discussion. What about you? Any literary characters you would diagnose?