Category: Odds and Ends

2011’s almost over, here’s the ubiquitous end-of-year list

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

I have not been the most consistent and regular odd book blogger as of late. I failed to write as much as I wanted in 2011, and I also read far less than I expected. Part of it was likely due to losing close to two months dealing with the Norway shooter’s manifesto. Hopefully 2012 will see more writing and reading.

But still, even as I did not get as much done in 2011 as I would have liked, I still got enough done to have another end-of-year list. My end-of-the-year lists aren’t “best of” lists. Rather, my list discusses the things I read in 2011 that resonated strongly with me. Good, bad, horrible, normal, weird – this list discusses all I read in 2011 that stayed with me, for whatever reason.

1) 2083 by Anders Behring Breivik
I discussed this monster in four verbose parts. It kicked my ass and continues to do so. It caused the dissolution of a long friendship (I am too liberal, it seems), it caused neckbeards to send me sickening messages regarding feminism (hint: I needed to make them a sandwich), and the articles remain the most-read articles on my site. This surprised me because I am a book blogger, not a political blogger, but after a while it made some sense. As far as I know, Jim Goad and I are the only damn people who read the thing in its entirety. Every discussion I read online about 2083 invariably contains the phrases, “Well, I didn’t read it, but…” or “I only read part of it, but from what I read…” So I suspect just the simple fact that I read the thing ensured some curiosity on the part of people who ordinarily wouldn’t read IROB and accounted for some of the traffic.  It’s a curiosity thing – let’s see the cow with three heads and the dumb chick who read all of Breivik’s manifesto.

But amongst the race-hate and assorted nonsense, I met some very interesting people, and I count in those numbers even those I disagree with. I had a very interesting discussion with Baron Bodissey from Gates of Vienna, an e-mail exchange that, devoid of the repellent posturing I have come to associate with Islamophobia, explained much to me about the mindset of those who associated with Fjordman. But most important to me, I met many people from Norway who were deeply affected by the events of 7/22. Their stories humanized the whole nightmare for me, showing the direct impact of the 1518 pages. It became all too real for me.

In the midst of this, my words were translated into Norwegian, I was referenced a few times on MetaFilter, I was mocked and praised on endless discussion sites (the guys on Reddit think I am verbose, to which I cannot help but say, “No shit, Sherlock!”), and received so many e-mails I am surprised I managed to answer them all. This was the most intense experience of my blogging life.

2. Shoplifting From American Apparel by Tao Lin/The Tao Shoplifting Crisis by Canarsie House
Until I dared speak of mass murder in Norway, this review caused the most furor I had experienced online. The book stinks, I stated my case very plainly and with more words than the average Tao Lintern felt comfortable reading, and at the end of it, I wondered if I had stumbled into a cabal of neoists too bored by life even to be able to sneer properly. Many were appalled that I derived an opinion of Lin’s character from the thinly veiled autobiography he published as fiction.  Oh the outrage I received from various people online followed by umpteen e-mails from people stating variations on the theme of, “Holy crap, I hate Tao Lin too but please don’t use my real name if you post this message.” But as terrible as this book was, it should not have been surprising that the experience of talking about it was more important than the experience of reading it.

Then I received a copy of a book containing e-mails between Tao Lin and the author Richard Grayson, who is also a lawyer, as well as being an excellent writer. I have not discussed this book yet and may not because it is very short, but you never know. In this exchange, my assumptions about Lin were more or less affirmed. Yet at the same time, I began to feel a sort of pity for the young man facing court over shoplifting charges and not knowing what to wear, needing to borrow money from a sibling to engage a lawyer, and more or less behaving as if he had no idea of how the world worked around him. It’s hard to reconcile the young man in those e-mails with the jaded asshole in Shoplifting from American Apparel.

3) Population Zero by Wrath James White
I plan to discuss this book on this site and here’s a review spoiler: It’s a very good book. It’s the tale of a vegan social worker who breaks with reality and begins to engage in aggressive population control methods. The characterization is excellent and this is no small feat because slipping into caricatures when dealing with a vegan is par for the course for too many writers. It also engages in some really extreme content without it ever coming across as exploitative.

But aside from loving this book, White’s tale had more punch for me because it proved that on some level my instincts about him were correct. I had first encountered White in the book he wrote with Edward Lee, Teratologist. Any attempt to describe the book must, by law, include the word execrable. I found White’s blog and grew to love his extemporaneous writing and wondered what the hell happened, how did Teratologist happen when he is clearly an interesting and erudite man? On the basis of his blog, I went ahead and read The Book of a Thousand Sins, a collection of short stories I discussed on this site. I didn’t give it a rave review but the strengths of the collection seemed at odds with the hot mess that was Teratologist. The problems in his writing struck me as the sort of things writers work out as they get better, and Population Zero proved that feeling was on the money. This book ensures that I will be reading a lot more of White’s work.

4) In the Eyes of Mr. Fury by Philip Ridley
Another book I plan to discuss here. A hauntingly beautiful book of local legends, family secrets, and confrontation, with deft touches of magical realism. I read this book on a lark, buying it online off my wishlist because the cover was appealing. It took me a long time to read it and when I finally did, it was one of those books that forced me to look up everything Ridley has written because I was appalled I missed out reading him for so long.

5) Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs
I plan to discuss this book here as well. This book was a nice, charming read that sort of fell flat for me. I appreciated the cleverness of the pictures and the story itself was sort of interesting but there was a definite lack of tension and the ending was not really an ending. I left it feeling like the book was jadedly setting up a series and therefore the book did not need to end in a substantively clear manner. In the wake of really absorbing young adult books, like the Harry Potter and Hunger Games series, this book was just… flat. Something was missing. I don’t know exactly what it is and it’s been niggling at me. It’s strange that a mediocre book would stay with me this long just because I can’t put my finger on why it’s mediocre, but there you go.

6) Sleeping Beauty III: Memorial Photography: The Children, from the archives of Stanley Burns, MD
Death photography, children… It should be clear why this book haunts me. This book also inspired Mr. Oddbooks to buy me an excellent piece of art for our anniversary. I display it with the book. This might seem morbid to some, but for me it was a perfect gift. Art often inspires connections with books, but it’s not often for me that books inspire connections to art. So that makes that tiny book of dead children all the more important for me, I think.
Sleeping Beauty

7) Hunger by Knut Hamson
This is one of the few books I read criticism about before I read it and it’s been a thorn in my side since I read it. My opinions on this book were at odds with the opinions of those who read this book and loved it. Auster, Bukowski, and Bly are likely better judges of the content but I will discuss how I deviated from their ideas when I discuss the book.   I ended up feeling tight in the chest as I read. I wanted to yell at the protagonist, to tell him to just be reasonable, but of course such an artist cannot be reasonable. I had a similar feeling when I first read Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth. I don’t know if closer examination will show any correlations between Lily Bart and Hunger‘s hero, but when my brain feels up to it, I will see if the two have anything in common. This book is definitely odd enough to discuss here, which I will do in the fullness of time.

8. Codex Seraphinianus by Luigi Serafini
Mr. Oddbooks got me a relatively inexpensive copy from Italy for my birthday and this book is a mindbend. I made it to the part I call “Weird Insects on Obstacle Course Islands” and had to stop. At times I have a tenuous hold on reality and this book challenged that hold. Honestly, this is a seriously odd book. Once I can finish absorbing all of it, I will discuss it here. This is a relatively expensive book, but you can have a look online. This is one of those books that really needs to be experienced in paper form but ultimately if you can’t shell out anywhere from $100 to $500 for a book, online is better than nothing.

9) The Ends of Our Tethers by Alasdair Gray
Definitely odd, definitely a book I will discuss here eventually, this book is one of those collections that seemed like it was written specifically for me. A character with a nasty skin condition, a clever but dissolute weirdo who gets the better of some teen punks, poets engaging in mind-fucks… This book was crammed with one-liners but was erudite enough in its execution that I did not feel like I was being forced to witness someone else’s cleverness as he showed off with words. This book may be the catalyst for me to start writing again. Experiencing that strange thrill when you read someone whose words show that there is someone on the planet whose mind sort of works like yours is a heady experience.

10) Room: A Novel by Emma Donoghue
I was skeptical at first because this book seemed like a “ripped from the headlines” sort of read. Such books can be fun to read but are seldom amazing. This was an exception, which should not have been surprising to me, as I have enjoyed Donoghue in the past. But even though this book seems very much inspired by actual crime and could have been a trashy read, it isn’t. Not close. This book is narrated by Jack, a five-year-old boy who lives in a room with his mother, who gave birth to him after her abductor imprisoned her for years in a small shed. Jack’s acquired language deficits seem strange given he was raised by a mother who spoke to him and read to him often, but that is a small criticism. This book was heartbreaking and gripping. There is a tense scene in the book so tightly written that my pulse accelerated reading it. This book was not strange enough to discuss here, but it is definitely worth a read.

I had a lot of strange stuff happen this year, Tao Lin and Norwegian killers notwithstanding. I managed to piss off a black metal god, as well as an author I really liked and whose work I discussed in depth on my site that predated IROB. I managed to do both without any intent to upset anyone.  Also, this happened. Yet despite the haze of negativity that seemed a part of my online experience in 2011, this was actually a pretty good year. I read less than I wanted but I also managed to add significantly to my book collection, obtaining several rare or expensive books that I had wanted for a long time. I met some very interesting people (Ted the Romanian, Edward Sung, Evil Gringo, Iskwew, Omine, Bad Tara and so many others), and had a chance to start writing for other blogs, and though I did not take advantage of those opportunities the way I should have, perhaps in 2012 I will be more focused.

So let’s all have an excellent year in 2012 and if you feel so inclined, tell me of the books that made an impact on you in 2011. You guys lead me to the best books so don’t be shy or brief.

The Death of Borders

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

Borders closing
Yep. Death. And no matter how much the Borders corporate offices try to spin that the company is regrouping, doing this, that and the other and it will all be okay, you should know Borders is dying and in five years or less will be completely gone from the book-purchasing landscape in the United States. There are a bunch of reasons for his and they have been hashed and rehashed since Borders announced they were closing a ton of stores, but I’m past that stage of grief, the anger stage when you assign blame and demand answers. At the moment, I am hovering between depression and acceptance.

Does this sound melodramatic, mourning the loss of a bookstore? It might be to some people. There is a sense that mourning should be kept special for humans or animals, but as a person whose life revolves around books – the reading of books, the procurement of books, the handling of books, the visual appeal of books – losing a book store that has been a part of my life for over a decade affects me deeply.

I read electronic books and dead tree books but have a definite preference for the latter and I buy them everywhere. Thrift stores, big box stores, publisher sites, Amazon, and, of course, book stores, independent and corporate. I don’t dislike Barnes and Noble, but Borders was always my favorite corporate book store. It’s as tenuous to explain this as it is to explain why you like only one of two very similar people. Border’s just visually appealed to me more. Its arrangement appealed to my sense of logic. The book selection, though similar between the two, was just a little more focused on my interests. It is hard to explain, sort of ephemeral, but Borders was a comforting place to me. I never used the store as a place to write, or hang out, or drink coffee. It was a place where I went to have a book-absorbing experience.

Mr Oddbooks and I discussed whether we wanted to go to Borders one last time, sort of visiting a dying a friend before the inevitable death, or just remember the store the way we loved it. We decided not to go back, but one evening while we were out, I just decided to go. But it wasn’t seeing a dying friend.
Borders closing

Borders closing
The friend was dead, its body picked over, bones exposed.

So, my friend is already dead. Let me eulogize my dead friend.

Mr Oddbooks and I are not drinking sorts of people, nor are we the sorts who like posh restaurants, so during times of celebrations, we went to Borders. I am not kidding one little bit. During times of great happiness, we went to Borders and dumped a couple to a few hundred dollars.
Borders closing
I would wander the fiction sections and pick up any book whose cover appealed to me. I bought my first David Foster Wallace book at this Borders the day Mr Oddbooks landed his current gig after two years of instability. I remember that evening very clearly. He bought some of those expensive computer magazines that cost more than a hardcover book and I decided to buy books I had never heard of before or writers I had been hesitant to read. Wallace, whose face I had seen in a dream a month before, called to me. I got Infinite Jest and Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. I’ve read the latter and don’t know if he’s my cup of tea or not but had I not been standing in front of the books with a deep will to purchase a book, any book, I would never have read him. Amazon serves me well when I know what I want, but not so well where impulses are concerned. I also bought a book based solely on the fact that there was a Stephen Fry blurb recommending it on the cover. Most importantly, I purchased Fay Weldon’s Chalcot Crescent. Fay Weldon is one of my favorite writers, full stop, yet finding copies of her recent releases in book stores can often be difficult. I am currently reading it and it is eerie how it seems to foretell what happened to Borders, what will happen to other business, and what is happening to governments all over the world. I think I was meant to buy that book when I did. Books can carry a lot of fate between their covers.

We frequently went to Borders during times of happiness, but for some reason, happiness doesn’t cut into my memory the way sadness does.
Borders closing
I had a job at an educational publishing company and I hated it. I had been sold a bill of goods about what I was going to be doing and the only reason I didn’t walk off the job two weeks after I started was because Mr Oddbooks also worked there and I was only given the job out of deference to him (I found out later two other women had, in fact, quit less than a month after accepting the position that eventually tricked down to me so I probably could have left and no one would have thought much of it). But I did the job poorly and it was clear I hated every moment I was there. But the company got sold, I was losing my job (though I quit before that happened), and even Mr Oddbooks’ job was threatened. I was in my cube one day, listening to NPR, and heard about a book called Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee. It sounded much like what I was experiencing, aside from the Korean cultural influences, and I wanted a copy. I worked just up the road from this Borders so I popped in and tried to find the book.

I couldn’t, so I went to the counter and asked the clerk to help me as the computers said they had it and it was in Literature. Suddenly, behind me, a woman who was from corporate tried to help me find it and took me back to the area where I had already looked, declared they were out and sent me back to the front counter so a clerk could get my information so they could order a copy. Then she went back to conferring with the other corporate drones, keeping an eye on the clerk who was helping me. A small Asian man, he said, very quietly, “I know where the book is. If you wait for ten minutes, I’m off the register and can get it for you.” The woman kept an eagle eye on him during all of this so, as a former retail clerk, I knew he was both trying to help me while not drawing attention to something that could potentially mean trouble. So I wandered off and checked out the sale books and sure enough, ten minutes later, he came up to me with the book. “I don’t know why it keeps ending up in Romance…” he trailed off. It was a strange moment but showed me a lot about the kid who helped me find the book. He knew that store inside and out, he didn’t want to get his coworkers who moved books to inappropriate locations in trouble, and he knew corporate was not to be trusted. Smart kid. I put the book under all the others I was purchasing so the corporate drone wouldn’t see it and I started reading Free Food for Millionaires the moment I got home. Not since Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth has a book spoken to me so clearly in a moment of dread-filled crisis.

Borders closing
In June of 2008, right when Houghton Mifflin Harcourt was in the middle of outsourcing all our jobs to India and Ireland, Mr Oddbooks and I also lost our precious cat, Daisy. Daisy was the feline embodiment of joy, and after we had to put her to sleep, we came back home, wandered around in a grief haze, then decided we had to get out of the house. We went to Borders. I remember standing in front of this table. Where that book with the eyeball peeking through the keyhole is now stood Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World. I started to cry and an employee in a wheelchair noticed me. He didn’t ask me what was wrong. He just offered me a coupon for a free coffee upstairs. I didn’t use it. I still have it, in fact. In a box full of memorabilia that I had hoped I would do something meaningful with but probably never will.

The employees were always the reason to shop there. As we checked out our last time, I told the very young man who was ringing us up that I was sorry the store was closing and I hoped he had a good, new job lined up. He said he was a personal trainer on the side but was going back to school to get his nursing degree. The clerk next to him, who is a teacher in Austin, spoke up that it looked like he was going to lose his teaching job, too. He was going back to grad school because it would give him time to recover and determine what he wanted to do next. We all commented that at the moment, not even education was the failsafe it used to be. Teachers were secure in their positions, Harcourt used to be a stable educational publisher, grad school ensured you got a job. None of that is true anymore. The man going back to grad school sighed and said that at least in grad school he got a deferment on his student loans.

Borders is a microcosm of all that is beginning to suck heartily in this country. That which should be secure can be destroyed by a handful of megalomaniacs who think they have all the answers. And those at the bottom are left wondering where the hell they can go next. Good people who want me to have a book but don’t want to narc out a coworker, a man who sees a crying woman and silently offers her a free coffee – these are people who should never worry about where their next job should come from.

Borders closing
I felt a strange resentment toward the people who shopped with me, but I had to remember this was not their fault. This store was destroyed by men in suits who had no fucking idea what they were doing but were able to trick people into thinking they did. I shop on Amazon. I like to pay as little as I can for books. Everyone has to be conscious with their money and it is not the consumer’s fault that Borders’ management screwed things up so royally. I know I am not alone. I know I am not the only person who spent thousands of dollars every year at that Borders. Even if all those shoppers beside me were only there to pick the bones of the retailer, the fact is that vultures help clean things up. They are important in the real world as well as the retail world. Having nothing on the shelves cannot be more depressing than what this picture depicts – a maelstrom of mismanagement and depressed people forced to move on as the world ostensibly moves on around them.

Borders closing
There was nothing left upstairs but fixtures to purchase. I used to love to comb through the Young Adult and Kids’ Books. I got there too late to see those sections still assembled. That’s probably for the best, because in my wandering mind books for children can too easily become children themselves and nothing is sadder than the death of a child.

The last books I purchased at Borders
It was surprising that in those stripped shelves and chaotic messes that I managed to find some good books. For the love of sanity, I could so seldom find Christopher Fowler’s books on the shelves of any retailer but I found two that last night. I had heard a lot of good things about The Madonnas of Echo Park and I had wondered about Warren Ellis’ Crooked Little Vein and why not give it a try at 60% off. Ruth Rendell is one of my favorite authors, and I wasn’t aware the Margaret Atwood book even existed until I saw it. The others just caught my eye.

Just out of sheer perversity, I looked all of these books up on Amazon and with two exceptions, I still could get new copies cheaper when I take into account that I pay no taxes on Amazon. I don’t know what to think about how the economy works and I may well be part of a larger problem, but really I think the economy is changing and retailers who don’t take that into account will die, pure and simple. But no matter how cut and dried it is, death always hurts people in various ways. Things move on but it sucks mightily when you are in the middle of that change.

So if the Borders in your town managed to stay in business, shop there as much as you can because I sense it will not be there long. O the times, O the customs.

Joe Bageant, rest in peace, you redneck prince

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

Joe Bageant, a humorous and kind man, has been taken by prostate cancer. He is not a particularly odd writer, but life cannot be lived through odd books alone. He discussed class in America in a way few are intellectually honest enough to understand, let alone relate.

One of the more awesome moments for me as I run this book blog of the damned is that Joe once left me a comment to one of my entries and sent me an e-mail with a PDF of his book, Rainbow Pie: A Redneck Memoir. He is a man I wish I had known better and whose small but gracious act gave me some sense that maybe I really do understand books, culture and social issues, despite the number of people online willing to tell me I don’t. I was deeply saddened hearing he has died. If you ever get the chance to read his books, especially Deer Hunting with Jesus, you should.

2010 in Review

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

In review… Get it? Hahaha.

Anyway, this year I read 102 books, which may seem like a lot to people who have real jobs and kids and active social lives. I have none of those things so I really feel like I could have read more this year. I tell myself that my discussion sites have caused me to slow down and read more carefully but even so, I hope to read at least 125 books in 2011.

I reviewed 75 books between I Read Odd Books and I Read Everything. Having never done this sort of thing before, I’m not sure how much better I could have done, but if this number is low, I take comfort that most of my discussions average around 2,000 words. Many are longer. Had I crapped out 75 one-paragraph reviews, I would definitely think that number too low. But given the depth I try to engage in when the book warrants it, I’m actually surprised I managed to discuss so many books. If I can beat that in 2011, that would be wonderful. Let’s see what happens.

It seems no “year in review” is complete without some sort of list, so here’s my 2010 list: Books I Thought About the Most in 2010. Not the best books I read in 2010 and not the worst – simply books that, for whatever reason, stayed with me. These are books from both I Read Odd Books and I Read Everything and cover a lot of ground.

10. The Membranous Lounge by Hank Kirton
I have yet to discuss this book but it definitely makes the list of books I am still thinking about. I received this in the mail, no explanation or entreaty to review it, and had some trepidation before reading it. I’m very glad I read it because the stories were amazing, both harsh and ethereal, gritty and dreamy. It was a surprise that such a tight, well-written, fascinating collection would come to me so stealthily. Two stories in this book – about a serial killing pair of women and a carny sideshow act who exacts revenge upon men who ill use her – were so shocking, interesting and unexpected that they likely will have resonance with me for a long time. I look forward to reviewing this one when it finally comes up in my queue.

9. How to Eat Fried Furries by Nicole Cushing
This book has the rare distinction of being one of the few books I have ever read that raised the hair on the back of my neck. Literally. There is a scene in this book that is so very eerie that I still don’t know if I can explain its power because the scene is merely a group of women trying to passively coerce another woman into doing something she does not want to do. Don’t be led astray by the title. This book is not about furries as they have come to be portrayed in media, but rather is a reference to society’s attempts to become more comfortable with cannibalism. A pack of demented ferrets fighting crime, the Angel Uriel in a prop plane helping the last few humans in the squirrel armageddon, people choosing to live without skin – this book is grotesque, funny, weird and upsetting. It was also Nicole’s first book with Eraserhead Press, in the New Bizarro Author Series, and is a stunning first effort.

8. The Source: The Untold Story of Father Yod, Ya Ho Wa 13, and The Source Family by Isis Aquarian
I have yet to discuss this book but have still managed to annoy the author as I spoke of it in my personal journal and called it a story of a Jesus Freak cult, a position I defend but one that nevertheless can seem flippant and derogatory as neither word in common parlance today conveys anything positive. But The Source were Jesus Freaks and cultish in the truest definition of these descriptives and the reason this book has stayed with me is because Isis Aquarian, the person who was assigned the role of documentarian for The Source Family, shows a fascinating look at fascinating people during a tumultuous time in American history. But it has also stayed with me because after coming across as a jerk to Aquarian, I looked hard at what makes a cult, what makes a malignant cult, and how it is that a cult can be both benign and malignant in the same ways traditional religious groups can be both. All in all, a deeply interesting book and another one I look forward to discussing in depth.

7. Naive. Super by Erland Loe
I was recommended this book by a clerk at Book People when I asked him to tell me the strangest book he had ever read. And it was strange. Sweetly strange. It was both accessible and unlike anything I have ever read before. I loved the protagonist of this novel, a kind and simple young man who wants to know the meaning of life, and again, this is a book I have yet to discuss and cannot wait to talk about it here.

6. Perversity Think Tank by Supervert
An attempt to determine and define what perversity truly is, this book is an intellectual look at sexual perversion and what separates it from basic human depravity. The book is arranged in a manner that forces the reader to interact with the content in a way that transcends the often passive nature of reading and this arrangement is why I am still thinking of this book as I had to look up the pictures Supervert references and think if my interpretation of them matched Supervert’s. I still find myself from time to time musing on where our interpretations were similar and not at all alike. This is a pretty little book, too. A treasure to own and an interactive experience to read.

5. Pearl by Mary Gordon
I loathed this book for the most part but the reason it still niggles in the back of my brain is because I am still shocked that a literary icon like Gordon wrote a book that by my own objective standards is so bad. The often pointless repetition of words and ideas seemed like Gordon assumed anyone reading the book had suffered a literary lobotomy. But most objective of all, I disliked the rarefied air occupied by all of the characters, which is not my usual response. I can read books about the idle rich without feeling like I want to grab a hammer and a sickle and run through the streets but Pearl aggravated me. Perhaps it is because I read the next book on my list so soon after reading Pearl but this book alienated me and forced me to examine why.

4. Last Night at the Lobster by Stewart O’Nan
I read this soon after reading Pearl and the nature of the characters in this book underscored why Pearl irritated me. The leisurely life of Pearl and her high-minded moral struggles seemed ridiculous after reading Last Night at the Lobster, a story of people who work too hard for too little money and yet engage in their own moral struggles while trying to keep food on the table. I think this book proved to me that excessive leisure seldom leads to better thoughts. Reading about work, the kinds of work I have done (though I have never worked in a restaurant, most of my jobs centered around serving people, either by cleaning their toilets or by selling them shoes or books), appealed to me and while I missed rereading this at Yule, I will reread it around this time next year, as this story takes place at Christmas time at a dying mall in a town that is a lot like mine and probably a lot like yours.

3. The Woman Who Walked into Doors by Roddy Doyle
This book broke my heart, telling the story of a lower-middle class Irish woman, Paula, who has been failed by the men in her life. Her father abandoned her emotionally when she was in her teens, her husband beat her relentlessly. Her society failed her too, calling her stupid and putting her into a school where she was tormented by boys and made rough in order to endure their treatment. Part class struggle, part feminist struggle, part addiction story, this book is most notable because it was so well-written and so deeply moving even as it refuses to give the reader a sense that Paula will eventually be okay. When I saw a sale copy of the sequel to this book, Paula Spencer, I grabbed it with delight. I cannot wait to read it and see what became of Paula, to see if there will be true transcendence for her.

2. The Franklin Cover-up: Child Abuse, Satanism and Murder in Nebraska by John W. DeCamp
The details in this book, horrific though they were, did not resonate with me because aside from some of the bad acts of Larry King, the man who committed financial fraud and likely sexually abused children in Omaha, very little in this book had the ring of truth. Yet this book still pings the back of my brain because it generated the most personal e-mail responses I received from any book I discussed on both of my sites. The missives worry me, not because I fear they are right, but because I am concerned that there are so many people who still believe the Satanic Panic was real and that Bush 41 countenanced children being flown around to be defiled by debauched members of the GOP. But mostly this book is still hammering in my brain because of the sheer flood of human misery it has revealed to me. Whether or not I believe in the Satanic Panic, there are clearly people who sincerely do believe. People who believe terrible things happened to them, things that should have killed them by any objective analysis, and that teachers, doctors, politicians, police and preachers are all involved in a nation-wide cabal to beget, rape, murder, sacrifice and eat children. No matter how little I believe in many of the stories I received by people who wanted to counter my lack of belief in this book, the people who wrote me were filled with genuine pain, fear and horror and it is nothing short of heartbreaking.

1. House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski
This book nearly drove me insane reading it, because while in the past I had flirted with the book, I had never sat down and read it carefully word for word. I wonder now if there is a mechanism in the way words and pages are arranged that can make a reader go mad because I really did feel as if my mind was being manipulated as I read this book. It was, beyond a doubt, the most involved book I have ever read and even as I sit here, writing this up, I am going over details in my head, trying to make ends meet, trying to remember which clues led me to places that seemed rational. People either love or hate this book. I fear it because I worry that I will dive in again and go to that strange mental place wherein Johnny, Will and Karen occupy my every thought and each little detail takes off into a place where it has meaning that I come close to deciphering but never quite manage.

So now you know which books still occupy my mind. Please share with me the books that didn’t leave you this year, the maddening, beautiful, frightening, enlightening books that were a cut beyond all the others you read.

Have a lovely New Year’s Eve and may your 2011 be productive, interesting and full of books.

This is what the experts call a “clue”

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

Okay, this is why I think I could be considered a legitimate bibliomaniac. In the last week, I have combed a local book sale twice and if I didn’t have a to-the-penny tally on our checking account, I’d probably go back. We bought so much the first time the girls recognized us when we walked in. Anyway, I thought I’d share the books I have purchased over the last week, selected purely on impulse though I did manage to score a few items from my Amazon wish list. I also am often conflicted about buying remaindered books because the writer gets no proceeds from the sale but a good majority of these books are out of print. The rest are titles I would never have read unless the price was so amenable. In a couple of cases, a new copy of the book was 10 times more than the price in front of me and when you are a crazy book person, sometimes you just have to buy a book on sale and be glad your principles stand firm 90% of the time.

Anyway, I like seeing books other people have bought and figure there must be others like me. Enjoy! (Also, this does not include the titles Mr. Oddbooks purchased, mostly books on how to build stuff and piracy on the high seas…)

1. Girl Trouble: The True Saga of Superstar Gloria Trevi and the Secret Teenage Sex Cult That Stunned the World by Christopher McDougall

2. How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World: A Short History of Modern Delusions by Francis Ween

3. Art and Sex in Greenwich Village: A Memoir of Gay Literary Life After Stonewall by Felice Picano

4. Hatred: The Psychological Descent Into Violence by Willard Gaylin, M.D.

5. I, Goldstein: My Screwed Life by Al Goldstein and Josh Alan Friedman

6. Jesus Land: A Memoir by Julia Scheeres

7. Fear: A Cultural History by Joanna Bourke

8. Foreskin’s Lament: A Memoir by Shalom Auslander

9. The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History by Jonanthan Franzen

10. Angel of Vengeance: The "Girl Assassin," the Governor of St. Petersburg, and Russia’s Revolutionary World by Ana Siljak

11. The Miracle Detective: An Investigation of Holy Visions
by Randall Sullivan

12. An Elegant Madness: High Society in Regency England
by Venetia Murray

13. Living at the Movies by Jim Carroll

14. All For Love: The Scandalous Life and Times of Royal Mistress Mary Robinson by Amanda Elyot

15. Bumping Into Geniuses: My Life Inside the Rock and Roll Business by Danny Goldberg

16. Chick Flick Road Kill: A Behind the Scenes Odyssey into Movie-Made America by Alicia Rebensdorf

17. A Shining Affliction: A Story of Harm and Healing in Psychotherapy by Annie G. Rogers, Ph.D

18. Simone Weil by Francine Du Plessix Gray

19. Revenge of the Donut Boys: True Stories of Lust, Fame, Survival and Multiple Personality by Mike Sager

20. When the Husband is the Suspect by F. Lee Bailey and Jean Rabe

21. Outside the Gates of Science: Why It’s Time for the Paranormal to Come in from the Cold by Damien Broderick

22. Shriek: An Afterword by Jeff VanderMeer

23. Rumpole and the Reign of Terror by John Mortimer

24. The Casebook of Forensic Detection: How Science Solved 100 of the World’s Most Baffling Crimes by Colin Evans

25. The Forger: An Extraordinary Story of Survival in Wartime Berlin by Cioma Schonhaus

26. Annie’s Ghosts: A Journey Into a Family Secret by Steve Luxenberg

27. Death Sentences: How Cliches, Weasel Words and Management-Speak Are Strangling Public Language by Don Watson

28. Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles
by Jeanette Winterson

29. The Politics of Psychopharmacology by Timothy Leary

30. The Restless Sleep: Inside New York City’s Cold Case Squad by Stacy Horn

31. Bind, Torture, Kill: The Inside Story of the Serial Killer Next Door by Roy Wenzl, et al

32. Hubert’s Freaks: The Rare-Book Dealer, the Times Square Talker, and the Lost Photos of Diane Arbus by Gregory Gibson

33. Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail: Can a Punk Rock Legend Find What Monty Python Couldn’t? by Christopher Dawes

34. Panic in Level 4: Cannibals, Killer Viruses, and Other Journeys to the Edge of Science by Richard Preston

35. The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murder: Murder Played Out in the Spotlight of Maximum Publicity by Chris and Julie Ellis

36. Hunger: An Unnatural History by Sharman Apt Russell

37. The Bone Lady: Life as a Forensic Anthropologist by Mary H. Manheim

38. Her Husband: Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath–A Marriage
by Diane Middlebrook

39. Never Mind the Pollacks: A Rock and Roll Novel by Neal Pollack

40. The Templars by Piers Paul Read

41. Charles Fort: The Man Who Invented the Supernatural
by Jim Steinmeyer

42. Muses, Madmen, and Prophets: Rethinking the History, Science, and Meaning of Auditory Hallucination by Daniel B. Smith

43. Loose Girl: A Memoir of Promiscuity by Kerry Cohen

44. Provenance: How a Con Man and a Forger Rewrote the History of Modern Art by Laney Salisbury and Aly Sujo

45. Hoax: Why Americans are Suckered by White House Lies
by Nicholas Von Hoffman

46. Wish I Could Be There: Notes From a Phobic Life
by Allen Shawn

47. Cosmopolis: A Novel by Don DeLillo

48. Transmission by Hari Kunzru

49. Paula Spencer Roddy Doyle

50. Oh, Play That Thing (Volume 2 of The Last Roundup)
by Roddy Doyle

51. The Ten-Year Nap by Meg Wolitzer

52. All the Sad Young Literary Men by Keith Gessen

53. After the Plague: Stories by T.C. Boyle

54. The Mammoth Book of Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘N’ Roll
edited by Jim Driver

55. Consequences by Penelope Lively

56. Rumpole Misbehaves: A Novel by John Mortimer

57. Becoming Eichmann: Rethinking the Life, Crimes, and Trial of a by David Cesarani

Sebastian Horsley, god speed you black dandy

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

I gave a humorously bad review to Sebastian Horsley’s bookDandy in the Underworld.

Someone left a comment on the review that he died of a heroin overdose on June 17. A Google confirmed this as fact.

You know, I never felt bad taking him to task for being a self-absorbed artiste because I know he ultimately knew he was sort of a poseur as well. His memoir is dripping with jabs at himself, a careful balance of grandiosity and self-loathing. He is not a man who would want to be remembered fondly so much as he would just want to be remembered, period. In fact, one of the reasons people think he died accidentally rather than a suicide is because he would never have missed the chance to write a fabulous suicide note.

But a heroin overdose? God dammit. Just… No. No. He needed to die an old man, tottering around in a dusty, baroque mansion, in a velvet waist coat and shoes with buckles on them, hair dyed defiantly black, a slightly more fabulous Quentin Crisp. But he wasn’t just a dandy. He was a dandy in the underworld. So I guess an overdose isn’t so unexpected, really.

But mostly, I just hate the fact that he died in such a clichéd manner.


Dandy Warhols – Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth found on YouClubVideo

I will also never know if he is the person who left this delightfully insane comment on my review. I kind of think it was. I sort of hope it was.

Amazon reviews are hinky? The hell you say!

This post originally appeared on I Read Everything

I never look at reviews on Amazon, though the site is the place where I purchase the bulk of my books. Though the story of Orlando Figes’ wife’s antics on Amazon UK is a fun read, it encapsulates all the reasons why I never review books on Amazon and why I give them little weight when I do read them.

Eulogy for Adolph Cat, 1992(?) – 2010

This post originally appeared on I Read Odd Books

I don’t discuss my personal life in my review journals outside of how my own life affects my reviews to some degree. But I felt the need to eulogize my cat Adolph, who died on 2/19/10. So if you come here for the books and only the books, that’s cool, just give this a miss. It is long, wordy and extremely picture heavy, but he was with me for almost 15 years and, frankly, writing these things out helps me put things in perspective.

Adolph was a cat larger than life. He was the first animal who lived with me, and I was 24 when he came into my life. I will be 40 this year – my entire adult life was spent with that incredible cat. I am not one to anthropomorphize my cats – they are cats, pets, and not my babies or friends or relatives. My relationship with them does not need honorary human status for it to be very special. Nothing wrong with either approach to animal companions – it’s just how I interact with my cats.

Not so with Adolph. He was not our pet. He was our peer. He was our gross roommate who refused to get a job. He was amazingly intelligent, knew us inside and out and understood that we were flawed and loved us regardless because he knew we loved him in spite of his flaws. He was insistent, needy, imperious, a bully, weird, gross and intrusive. He was empathetic, loving, caring, smart, adorable, silly, and loved all humans – all of them, big, small, scary, cute. There was no sensible person he could not charm, even when he acted up.

When he first experienced renal failure and had to spend a couple of days at the vet, they gave up keeping him in a cage during the day. He upset his water bowl several times and howled and howled, so they let him out during the day, letting him have the run of the place. He mocked the dogs in the dog run, greeted people at the front desk. Several people asked if he was up for adoption, he was so funny and interesting. So while I am biased, I know others saw his roguish charms and gave into them, too.

First pic ever
This is the first picture I ever took of Adolph. I don’t have many pics of his early days. No dig cams then and I was very broke. Film was a luxury that I now wish I had spent more money on since I have so few pics of our early days. It was 1995 and he was around 2 years old.

Here’s Adolph’s life, what I can think of telling right now. He was truly an amazing cat.