Reading diary: December 2010

December 2010




More of Ryan's books »

It's the last post of this 2010 series of capsule reviews, the first post of the new year. Eighty books read, it's been a great year, like going around the world in the same number of days. Here's my seven titles in December, two of which made my favorites list.

Clandestine in Chile by Gabriel García Márquez, tr. Asa Zatz

A true story of Miguel Littín, an exiled Chilean film director, who re-entered Chile in disguise during the late years of Pinochet regime. He undertook this clandestine mission to shoot a documentary that exposes life under the military dictatorship. It's a candid and nostalgic look at losing one's own identity and being a stranger in one's own homeland.

My full review here.

The Trial by Franz Kafka, tr. Breon Mitchell

Whoever said The Trial is a comic novel must be joking. The things that happened to Josef K. are not funny at all. Having come face to face with a corrupt justice system, with his individual rights violated at every turn, and being at the mercy of inept lawyers and judges ... Nobody is laughing at all. *looks warily at his back* Right?

Patikim by Mark Angeles

Patikim is Mark Angeles's first book of poetry, a harvest of love poems that contain some of the most cheesy lines that express heartfelt sentiments. They are the kind of lines that make a stone cringe: "you asked me, the me within me – / why the leaves flutter in the wind / why the stones are weeping / why a kiss tastes sweet." Faced with these crude expressions, the reader expecting complicated lofty thoughts will be disappointed. Instead what he will get are unapologetic jolts of feelings interspersed with entertainment, sometimes deadpan, sometimes wicked, often irreverent. The poems show that love can be a cure against cynicism, and laughter is the bitter medicine. The technique is hidden by apparent accessibility.

I have translated and posted a couple of these poems here. Here is another one, a short question the poet asks the violin and it encapsulates Mark's attempt to, in his own words, "objectify love." It can be a two-take objective: one that objectifies and one that object-ifies.

O, Mahinhing Biyolin           O, mahinhing biyolin,           dalit ko'y iyong dinggin—           Paano susuyuin           and iyong pagkabirhen?

O, Virtuous Violin O, virtuous violin, hear my grieving hymn— how does one win your virgin being?

Blow-Up and Other Stories by Julio Cortázar, tr. Paul Blackburn

Reading Cortázar, it's like having a tiger in the room. A cute tiger, stripes and all. You wouldn't know, though, when it's going to pounce. But you know it's going to make a mean move, snack on you maybe, drink your blood, like a poet drinking metaphors, satiated beyond satiety. Like a reader drinking the prose of Cortázar. They are perfect prose pieces, unexpected like tigers. He is one of those prose stylists whose sentences you read for their music and poetry, without caring for the cohesiveness of the stories. The surprising thing is that the stories are impeccably plotted, with always something mind-walloping in the end. My favorite short stories here are the first two, "Axolotl" and "House Taken Over."

I decided to start with these stories after reading only a few pages of Hopscotch. I know the latter promises to be great but I felt the need to get some bearings with the short fiction. I predict a new (literary) hero worship is in the offing.

Tres by Roberto Bolaño, tr. Erica Mena, unpublished translation

I accidentally came across Erica's translation while surfing on the web. Unfortunately, it's not authorized for publication. I find in this translation of Tres the concentration of Bolaño's strengths as a poet. The conversational voice, the perfect muscle control of the lines, the powerful and various abysses, strangely structured, surreal, improviso.

Here is the start of the third poem called "A Stroll Through Literature."

1

I dreamed that Georges Perec was three years old and visited my house. I hugged him, I kissed him, I told him he was a precious boy.

2

We were left half-done, father, neither cooked nor raw, lost in the vastness of this interminable garbage dump, missing and mistaking ourselves, killing and begging forgiveness, manic depressives in your dream, father, your infinite dream that we unraveled a thousand times and a thousand times again, like Latin American detectives lost in a labyrinth of crystal and mud, traveling through rain, watching films where old men appear and cry tornado! tornado!, looking at things for the last time, but without seeing them, like phantoms, like frogs in the bottom of a well, father, lost in the poverty of your utopian dream, lost in the variety of your voices and your abysses, manic depressives in the immeasurable room in Hell where you cook up your Jokes.

One must read Tres for its rhythm, for its content, for visceral realism. Above all, for its rhythm. One, two, or three times.

Cave and Shadows by Nick Joaquín

A satisfying blend of history and detective story, Cave and Shadows investigates the death of a young woman found in a cave. There was no sign of foul play. She was found naked, and as if sleeping. There's an inner cave within cave, secret passages, neo-paganism, ritual sacrifices, cults and activists, converts and sinners. I think it has a lot to offer the readers of mysteries and mysticism.

I'll put up a longer review of this book sometime this month.

Mondo Marcos: Mga Panulat sa Batas Militar at ng Marcos Babies,
ed. Frank Cimatu and Rolando B. Tolentino

"Marcos babies" refer to the generation of Filipinos who were born or came of age during the regime of dictator Ferdinand Marcos. Mondo Marcos is an anthology of writings (short stories, essays, poems) about life under that dictatorship. A full review of this book is also upcoming.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Favorite reads of the year 2010

2010 favorites

Ryan's favorite books »

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1. Mon by Natsume Sōseki, tr. Francis Mathy

2. The Wild Geese by Mori Ōgai, tr. Kingo Ochiai and Sanford Goldstein

3. Piercing by Murakami Ryū, tr. Ralph McCarthy

4. Some Prefer Nettles by Tanizaki Junichirō, tr. Edward G. Seidensticker

5. Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond

6. Death in Midsummer by Mishima Yukio, tr. Edward G. Seidensticker et al.

7. The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt

8. The Jaguar by João Guimarães Rosa, tr. David Treece

9. The Hare by César Aira, tr. Nick Caistor

10. The Insufferable Gaucho by Roberto Bolaño, tr. Chris Andrews

11. Blow-Up and Other Stories by Julio Cortázar, tr. Paul Blackburn

12. Tres by Roberto Bolaño, tr. Erica Mena, unpublished translation


Books read in 2010:

http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2010/05/rises-reading-diary-2010.html

Reading diary: November 2010

I'm inserting a widget from Goodreads so that I don't need to manually add the book covers every time I post my short reviews. Nifty. I just don't think black background complements the virtual shelf well.

November 2010




More of Ryan's books »

Your Face Tomorrow 2: Dance and Dream by Javier Marías, tr. Margaret Jull Costa

This is hard-going for me. Alas, after five books of Marías, it's still hard to get accustomed to his style. But then the late style is more stultifying than the previous digressive acts. I really liked the first volume (Fever and Spear) and yet this second one capitalizes on the same drudgery. The "Dance" chapter is a long boring set-up, but the suspense in the "Dream" part makes up for it. Needless to say, the concluding chapters of the third volume, "Poison", "Shadow", and Farewell" will make or break it for me.

The Stalin Front by Gert Ledig, tr. Michael Hofmann

A novel of WWII, with lots of combat action. Visceral, powerful writing that makes me think of the war films of Spielberg and Malick. It's one of those books that were neglected in its own time but really deserve a wider readership. NYRB publisher is to be thanked for bringing out these lost gems.

Read as part of the NYRB Reading Week. My full review is found here.

Pedro Páramo by Juan Rulfo, tr. Margaret Sayers Peden

A fine example of magical realist novel. The story moves between the past and the present and between the worlds of the living and the dead. Imagine ghosts being haunted by ghosts!

It's too bad I don't have anything more to read by Rulfo. He wrote just two books and I already read the other one (The Burning Plain and Other Stories).

The Mystery Guest by Grégoire Bouillier, tr. Lorin Stein -- reread

A reread of this memoir reveals several cracks in the exquisite vase but this remains a favorite piece of monologue. The hung-up and pathetic voice of its narrator, a French lover, is near pitch perfect. It's about how Grégoire Bouillier overcame his traumatic relationship breakup and his penchant for wearing turtlenecks.

The Insufferable Gaucho by Roberto Bolaño, tr. Chris Andrews

Seven pieces - 5 stories and 2 essays - by a "mythical" writer. The title story alludes to Borges. It's a posthumous collection but the stories are living stories, not dead, though they are often inhabited by zombies, or I should say zombie-like characters. I loved it. But then I'm partial to everything Bolañese.

Reading diary: October 2010

Twelve books read in October! This makes the past month the most productive of my reading this year.

One other highlight of October is my breezing through the rest of César Aira's fiction in translation. The completist in me is more than satisfied with this reading marathon. No, not marathon. This month is like a leisure walk with 7 novels, 2 poetry collections, 2 nonfiction, and 1 brilliant short story collection.


57. Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

The book's rhythm is perfect, I think. It's like hearing the drums from time to time. Achebe developed a straightforward diction that lends gravity to his themes. The incorporation of oral storytelling and ancient myths makes the story universal, especially for its themes of colonialism and social transformation.

What I noticed in the choice of words is the almost complete lack of adverbs. In exceptional cases when adverbs do appear, they appear in sentences that anticipate something ominous. The adjectives are the only modifiers, and they always come singly. The use of two consecutive adjectives is very rare. This limitation may be similar to the ones used by OuLiPo writers to achieve poetry. The result of these limitations is a no-frills, plainspoken voice, very rooted to the land and perhaps signifies the stability, purity, wholeness of culture. That is why the advent of changes in social norms, religion, and form of government at the end of the book represents an apocalyptic transformation for the African tribe, the "second coming." As the white colonizers try to impose their influence on the original settlers of the land, the Nigerians lose their original gods, their beliefs and stories, their very identities. Against the wishes of the elders and the vanguards of customs like Okonkwo, the protagonist, they are 'modified.'

I read this book as part of a group read in one of my Shelfari groups.


58. The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt

The Last Samurai (no, not the) centers on the adventures of a young prodigy brought up by a single mother. It recounts his search for his father, his mother's obsession with Kurosawa's film Seven Samurai, and some very amusing mishaps. For a po-mo novel with lots of linguistic tricks, it's really funny. The set-piece stories soar. When Ludo, the little protagonist, starts to gamble at the end, we learn that what makes a true samurai is neither physical nor mental prowess. It's something more that could ultimately define his destiny.




59. The Literary Conference by César Aira, trans. Katherine Silver

A translator named César is bent on world domination. He enacts the role of Mad Scientist in comic books and attempts to clone the Mexican novelist Carlos Fuentes. It's a sci-fi romp whose cinematic climax will give Hollywood movies a run for their money.









60. How I Became a Nun by César Aira, trans. Chris Andrews

A little girl named César Aira was poisoned by contaminated strawberry ice cream. Her/his father took revenge on the ice cream vendor by dipping his head in the tub of poisoned ice cream. Only a literary monk could have written How I Became a Nun. The book is ultimately a missal of wicked intents. It's a childish book, a false memoir, a feat of child psychology, a nightmare come true. Readers get no chance to throw fits of tantrums.






61. Dance Dance Dance by Murakami Haruki, trans. Alfred Birnbaum

MakiMurakami H. as a self-help/inspirational writer, sharing "life lessons." Who would think of it?












62. Poems of Akhmatova by Anna Akhmatova, trans. Stanley Kunitz and Max Hayward

This is a bilingual edition of selected poems arranged chronologically, containing her celebrated work "Requiem" and extracts from "Poem Without a Hero." Akhmatova's witness is one of profound sensitivity to human suffering and cruelty. One of the virtues of her poetry is personal pride, the positive aspect of it, the strength to resist passively and to not succumb to people and institutions in power.







63. Sounds, Feelings, Thoughts by Wisława Szymborska, trans. Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire

Szymborska is my favorite poet. Her style and Akhmatova's are comparable to some extent but I find Szymborska's poems to be less weighed down by her themes. I'm not too enamored by the translations but the power of the lines still emanate from their playfulness and wit. Not that I understand Polish, but the versions in View With a Grain of Sand (translated Stanisław Barańczak and Clare Cavanagh) sound better to me especially with the symmetric quality of the lines. However, this collection is important for being the first substantial harvest of Szymborska in English translation, and for its very good thematic introduction.

Here's one of my favorite poems in the book:

Vietnam
by Wisława Szymborska

Woman, what's your name?—I don't know.
When were you born, where do you come from?—I don't know.
Why did you dig a hole in the ground?—I don't know.
How long have you been hiding here?—I don't know.
Why did you bite the hand of friendship?—I don't know.
Don't you know we will do you no harm?—I don't know.
Whose side are you on?—I don't know.
There's a war on, you must choose.—I don't know.
Does your village still exist?—I don't know.
Are these your children?—Yes.

– Translated from the Polish by Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire

64. The Jaguar by João Guimarães Rosa, trans. David Treece

Short stories by an unforgivably under-read and under-translated Brazilian writer. João Guimarães Rosa is probably the long lost great prose stylist (in any language), who is now rediscovered thanks to translator David Treece. The eight stories are tightly selected and survey a range of Guimarães Rosa's stories of life journeys, from setting out to arriving, corresponding to the three parts of the collection: "Setting Out," "Lost Souls," "Final Farewells." As he wrote in his celebrated book, The Devil to Pay in the Backlands, "The truth is not in the setting out nor in the arriving: it comes to us in the middle of the journey." The middle of the journey here ("Lost Souls"), and the heart of the book, contains the title story. "The Jaguar" is a tour de force of descent into madness and captures the irony of existence, civilization and barbarity existing side by side in a human being. (I recently read a different translation of this long story, by Giovanni Pontiero, noted translator of José Saramago and Clarice Lispector. The readings of this story in two different registers makes for two distinctive experiences. I have to say though that Treece's version sounds more mad to me, and that's a compliment.)

The "Setting Out" part contains three stories told from the point of view of children. The word inventions in these stories are exhilarating for their fresh perspectives on how children begin to view the world through their observant eyes. The final section ("Final Farewells") contains another long story, "In the Name of the Grandfather" which is translated here for the first time, and two more which are widely anthologized, "The Third Bank of the River" and "Soroco, His Mother, His Daughter." The long story is yet another feat of word invention and narrative stream of consciousness. In Treece's versions, Rosa's modern language is resurrected in beautiful living idioms, alive through interpretation. It unfolds, is lived and experienced.


65. The Fixer by Joe Sacco

Nonfiction graphic about a recent war. There are many things to commend in this graphic: the complex character of "the fixer," the strong sense of place, and the subject matter. This humanist book achieves artistry through its "objective" imagining and imaging of war crimes that are indelibly registered on sheets of paper and, it is to be continually hoped, in human memory.







66. The Hare by César Aira, trans. Nick Caistor

About an English naturalist who entered Mapuche Indian territory in Argentina to search for an elusive animal, the Legibrerian Hare. The first of Aira's books to appear in English, whose original Spanish was published fairly early in Aira's career. It is also the longest, at a safe novel length. The more words expended should make it the weakest of the translated books, but no! This is Aira in the same enfant terrible form, if not less terrible. With its discourse on continuity, continuum, and simultaneity, the novel is key to understanding the same delightful ridiculousness in what came after (books #59 and 60 above).

This book is pure happiness. I posted my notes and speculations here.


67. Managing Online Forums by Patrick O'Keefe

Didn't read this book from cover to cover. But I read what I needed to read. Even if one is using a different online discussion site/platform from the one in the book, one can always apply the general guidelines prescribed. Useful, yes.









68. Exploits and Opinions of Doctor Faustroll, Pataphysician by Alfred Jarry, trans. Simon Watson Taylor

Alfred Jarry started the movement called 'pataphysics which is a sort of extension of science, metaphysics, and religion. The principles of 'pataphysics are conspicuously given in this experimental book. The language is beautiful, always courting poetry. But it needs a ton of annotations to be understood. Well, maybe not a ton, but surely ample footnotes. The uninitiated (like YT) will either appreciate the surreal prose poems which soar like kites, or blink helpless at the surreal passages zooming over one's head like rockets. Let's just say it deserves its cult status for being obscure.

Ha ha.*

_____________

*Ha ha.

Reading diary: September 2010

SEPTEMBER 2010

51. Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico by Javier Marías, trans. Esther Allen

This is just a short story (57 pp.) but it's hard-hitting.

I wrote a bit about this book, including a profile of Marías, here: http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2010/09/visiones-de-marias.html


52. Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda, trans. W. S. Merwin

Melted cheese. 


53. Norwegian Wood II by Murakami Haruki, trans. Alfred Birnbaum

The second volume is where the story soars to unexpected heights, and drowns in its bottomless abysses. I was prepared to hate this book through and through. However, in this second volume, my initial disappointment gave way to appreciation of Haruki's dramatic sense ... and sensibility.

I was prepared to hate it but I didn't. Even if the characters wear their hearts on their breast pockets, are too honest in their raw tender feelings, too sensitive, too suicidal. What a heartwrecker of a book. Now all I need do is see the movie.

(I tried to read the two translations (by Alfred Birnbaum & Jay Rubin) side by side. There are interesting divergences between the two translations (e.g., word choice: "Storm Trooper" in Rubin's version is "Kamikaze" in Birnbaum's.). But the two translations are quite comparable really that I feel like I'm just rereading the whole thing. I ended up just reading the whole of the Birnbaum translation. I don't think Rubin improved on it.)


54. The Speed of Light by Javier Cercas, trans. Anne McLean

Another false novel about a Vietnam war veteran and a writer who tries to tell his story. It is Cercas's follow up (sequel) to the successful Soldiers of Salamis. As with the previous book, this one is concerned about the haunting of memory and history, with the added burden of all-consuming fame and success. Cercas has repeated his formula, with mixed results. But it is always a pleasure to see him grapple with Sebaldian themes.


55. The Makioka Sisters by Tanizaki Junichirō, trans. Edward G. Seidensticker

A tale of four sisters, their search for happiness, and their vanishing world. The novel is steeped in Japanese culture. My field notes here: http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2010/09/makioka-sisters-tanizaki-junichiro.html


56. Antwerp by Roberto Bolaño, trans. Natasha Wimmer

A detective story told in fragments....Reading as crime solving....The only book that doesn't embarrass Bolaño....His least accessible fiction....Functions more as a sequence of prose poems...With an aimless itinerary....Fueled by its own momentum....For those who want to play the part of detectives....Let me know when you solve the riddle...

Reading diary: August 2010

Do you reread?

Peter recently asked this question in his book blog Kyusireader. My answer: Yes. The first three books I read in August are in fact rereads.

I think some books are definitely worth a second, third, fourth look, and the book will repay each of those rereads with a finer look at the details, at the themes, at the confusion. A reread provides more opportunities for catching up on ... whatever. It either solidifies our first perceptions of the book or ... revises them. A First Reading from the Book of the Author is not the same as The Second Reading from the Book of the Writer.

Our field of experience expands with every book we read. We see correspondences and divergences of ideas in books read so far and life lived so far. Going back to the book I thought I already knew, I'm surprised to find another grain of truth that wasn't there before, another food for thought that didn't perish in the accumulation of life lessons. Maybe because we see more and more of the same and more and more of not-same things under the patina of older age.


AUGUST 2010

46. On the Natural History of Destruction by W. G. Sebald, trans. Anthea Bell -- reread

Literary criticism about the inability of German writers to write with authority about the air bombings in WWII Germany. Sebald is concerned about the interplay of memory and history, the role of writers in times of crisis, and their moral and ethical obligation to bear witness to destruction. I wrote some notes on sections of the book which can be accessed in the following links:

Air War and Literature 1 , 2
Against the Irreversible: 
The Remorse of the Heart


47. The Devil to Pay in the Backlands by João Guimarães Rosa, trans. James L. Taylor and Harriet de Onís -- reread

Considered by many to be the Great Brazilian Novel of the 20th century, The Devil to Pay in the Backlands, is a flawed and abridged translation that is still cinematic and powerful despite its apparent shortcomings. [A section of the book ("The Slaughter of the Ponies") demonstrates an aspect of Guimarães Rosa's singular style that may have been compromised by the compositional choices of its first translators, James L. Taylor and Harriet de Onís.]

The novel recounts the violent wars raging in the hinterlands of Brazil. It is narrated by Riobaldo, a jagunço or bandit, to a writer who was silent interlocutor throughout the book. Riobaldo confesses his story and his thoughts about them freely and in the process betrays his philosophical meditations on various existential and spiritual questions: the place of the individual in the world, the existence of the devil, the place of honor in a violent world, the forgiveness of sins, the costs of betrayal, the costs of love, the value of friendship, the art of war, the ways to grab power and leadership. One of my favorite quotes: "Life is a motley confusion. Write it in your notebook, sir: seven pages."

I highly recommend the blog A Missing Book for exclusive background information on the book, including the difficulties to translation presented by its writing style. At least two translators, Gregory Rabassa and Thomas Colchie, were reported to try their hand at the task of rendering a new English version but nothing came of the project. The latest news from A Missing Book - indeed the great news - is that Elizabeth Lowe and Earl E. Fitz have "committed" to undertake the impossible job of bringing forth a new translation of the masterpiece. God speed, translators!


48. Six Easy Pieces by Richard P. Feynman -- reread

A spirited introduction to physics. Some parts of it are now dated but it's still a recommended text for those who want to brush up on their Physics.

http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2009/08/six-easy-pieces-richard-p-feynman.html


49. Numb by Sean Ferrell

A worthwhile first novel about a man who doesn't feel any pain. The catch is: Numb (that's the protagonist's adopted name) doesn't remember anything: who he is, why he's got this kind of extraordinary ability, what planet he comes from. His power is therefore painlessness, and his weakness is amnesia.

What do you do with a character who doesn't feel any pain? Why, of course you hurt him physically. Numb is prone to accidents, whether self-inflicted or the ones handed down by fate/destiny/higher power. I lost count of the number of times the title character was pierced, cut, stapled, hammered, nailed, assaulted, slapped, hit, kicked, etc. I lost a lot of blood while reading this book. It's a kind of anti-graphic novel, if ever there was one.

My review here: http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2010/09/numb-sean-ferrell.html

50. Grass on the Wayside by Natsume Sōseki, trans. Edwin McClellan

Michikusa (Grass on the Wayside) is the last book Sōseki completed a year before his death. It is considered his most autobiographical - the translator said this is his only autobiographical novel, but surely every novel has a hint of auto in it). Kokoro ("The Heart of Things"), Mon (The Gate), and Grass on the Wayside forms what can be called Sōseki's trilogy of loneliness. This last book is narrated in some one hundred very brief chapters, each one packed with reflections on family obligations, marriage woes, greed, discontentment, and poverty. It is a beautiful thoughtful book in spite of the protagonist being jerkface a whole lot of time.

I think I said this before: Sōseki is my favorite Japanese writer. His writing about the human condition is pithy.

Reading diary: July 2010

One of the reading challenges I happily signed up for this year is The Fourth Japanese Literature Challenge, hosted by Dolce Bellezza. My interest in Japanese writing is peaking this year. I only ever started reading Japanese writers in earnest last year. Since then, I've steadily read and collected a lot of Japanese books that occupy a large space in my shelf and will occupy my leisure time in the coming days. The only genre in fiction that can compete with this long-term reading of mine is writing from Latin America.


JULY 2010

39. A Universal History of Infamy by Jorge Luis Borges, trans. Norman Thomas di Giovanni

A catalog of bad persons and their wrongdoings. Entertaining and funny, and sometimes scary. There are many novels inside this encyclopedia novel. The tradition of writing down personal histories in compressed form (vignettes), popularized here by Borges, clearly extends to contemporary writers. Cases in point: Nazi Literature in the Americas and Written Lives. I detect a representation of multifaceted evil and/or quirkiness in small doses.


40. Some Prefer Nettles by Tanizaki Junichirō, trans. Edward G. Seidensticker

From my review: Kaname and Misako, husband and wife, couldn't bear their relationship anymore. They decided to separate. Misako fell in love with another man; and Kaname, feeling no attachment to his wife, condoned it. Both agreed they need to divorce each other. . . . Tanizaki's novel would have been ordinary soap opera material had it not been for his masterly use of details. His depiction of insular world of puppet plays, of geishas and mistresses, and of the contrasting refinements in the cities of Tokyo and Osaka, [places] the story into a cultural context and in a dramatic light that sublimates all the tension and conflict into a dizzying calmness. The characters are so precise in their barbaric gentleness. They move with the grace of the bourgeoisie, but their inner identity crises are just as crude as modern humanity's.


41. Ilustrado by Miguel Syjuco

The puzzle fragments of this novel, like the famed Hundred Islands in Pangasinan, form an island chain of experiences and consciousness. The sequence is filtered through several narrative ecosystems: immigrant experiences, colonialism, cultural diffusion, literary questionings, historical deficits, and failures of identity. At the center of Ilustrado are two writers struggling with their own demons.

It was a pleasure to read this novel from its strong prologue to the multiplicity of excerpts and "excerpts within excerpts." Miguel Syjuco reinvigorated Filipino writing with experimental possibilities. The ending forces one to question the power granted to storytellers. Syjuco's manipulative skills are impressive. I hope his follow up book will not be a long time coming.


42. Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond

It's amusing to read the slew of negative reviews in Amazon. It's hardly surprising though, given the subject matter of the book and its revolutionary approach to the interpretation of history. Prof. Diamond presents his case well that I think some of the debated quotes in the reviews were taken out of context, or were taken as absolutes. I can imagine why some arguments are controversial. They're not always politically correct and often run against conventional knowledge. Prof. Diamond is talking about the origin of "races," why some are more affluent than others and why some are not destined to prosper. His central argument is quite basic: environment, not race, is the main determinant of success of societies. Very humane and obvious but still debatable. What is impressive is the wealth of evidence presented and the manner in which they are analyzed. The environmental approach to history can run the risk of the "comprehensive syndrome," i.e., too detailed and sweeping and long, that it sometimes reads like a chore. I read it on and off for almost a year. It was like attending a course in ecology. On the strength of this book, I'd likely attend more lectures by Prof. Diamond through his other books.


43. Soldiers of Salamis by Javier Cercas, trans. Anne McLean

False novels - that favored blend of fact and fiction and self-reference - are easily becoming a popular genre in Latin American writing. Along with authors I've been reading a lot (César Aira, Javier Marías, Roberto Bolaño), Javier Cercas is one of its best practitioners. Soldiers of Salamis is a cleverly structured treatise on memory and narrative direction. Its experimental elements hark back to the whimsical device of the playful author of the Quixote.


44. Norwegian Wood I by Murakami Haruki, trans. Alfred Birnbaum

The "red book" is the first of two small volumes of Norwegian Wood published by Kodansha. Norwergian Wood is one of the most popular and widely read books of Murakami, in Japan or elsewhere. The story tells of a pair of young lovers trying to deal with their painful past. My first impressions border between boredom and irritation. I didn't find much to admire in the slow unfolding (plodding) of the plot. The writing style, at least in this first-half, is pedestrian and dry. It made me think that perhaps I prefer the sci-fi side of Murakami. By the second volume, the story starts to pick up momentum with some interesting characters popping in. In fact, the second volume completely redeemed the story for me. But I'm jumping ahead.


45. Death in Midsummer by Mishima Yukio, trans. Edward G. Seidensticker, Ivan Morris, Donald Keene, and Geoffrey W. Sargent

It's a compilation meant to showcase the full range of Mishima's themes. Not a greatest hits collection of stories, but the handful of precious jewels makes it a worthwhile read. Three or four stories deserve the highest rating. One story called "Patriotism" particularly makes one squirm with a graphic tale of suicide. It's one of the best books I've read this year. Mishima defies my expectations. He is a real find.