Completed: On Beauty

Kelly,
All right! Let's do this thing!

I guess a little background first, but it's so vague as to be unhelpful. I don't remember when I picked this book up, although I feel certain it was on sale at a bookstore. I like Zadie Smith generally, and I also have a vague recollection of a colleague telling me I would like it.

Either way, I've had it for a long time. How do I know? Because I pulled it off my shelf and noticed the pretty extreme sun damage that its suffered. Can you see that white stripe down the one end? Yikes. It's even more noticeable when you see the whole cover.  Remember my speculation that my books are getting too much direct sunlight? Now I have confirmation.

Like last time, we'll just add our names before our writing. The book is split up into three sections, so we'll go back and forth three times.

Jenny

Part One: kipps and belsey

Jenny: In this section, we are introduced to the two warring academics, Howard Belsey and Monty Kipps. However, the real action is with the Belsey family and their complicated family dramas. Some of this seems like typical mid-life crisis boilerplate: the wayward teenagers, the affair, the career pressures. But then again, if there weren't similarities in how this plays out, we wouldn't have a convenient name for the syndrome.

I find Smith's writing style to be crisp, clean, and easy to follow. There are lots of characters introduced, and so far, each member of the Belsey family has narrated, so I appreciate her ability to make that work.

The one "scene" that I struggled with the most was when Howard arrives in London to "break up" the engagement of Jerome and Victoria. There is almost no part of me that believes that a stranger calling and demanding to be picked up from the train station would be met with anything but gales of laughter. It was just too weird. I'm wondering if this is going to bother me in this book, because there seems to be lots of events that defy logic. The arrival of the entire Kipps family at Howard's college---without him having any clue---and then moving into a house just a few blocks away, was also hard to swallow.

Right now, the savior for me is Howard's wife, Kiki. I'm enjoying her inner struggles and outer strength. Her worries about whether or not she fits in intellectually, physically, and as a black woman in her husband's white world, make her a sympathetic and winning character for me so far.

By far, the character I'm most interested in at this point is Howard. Even though I knew right from the get-go that he cheated on Kiki, I found him an interesting mix of foolish and affable. He makes a huge scene at the Kipps household, but he just seems more confused and overwhelmed than anything else, a buffoon. However, the chapter ends with an interesting twist. Kiki thinks that he only had a one-night stand, when it was really a longer affair with a colleague and friend. The author sets up an interesting tension when she has Howard think, "It was so strange to him, the decision of Kiki's not to pursue him for every detail of his betrayal" (110). By the end of the chapter, Kiki finally discovers the truth. For a moment, I have fallen for the trick: Why did she accept his story? Then I marveled at Howard's chutzpah. He was caught red-handed, condom in suit, and rather than telling her the whole truth he still had the nerve to lie, to cover-up, and then to blame her for not dragging it out of him.

My lingering thoughts, and I've only read this first section, so I'm sure some of this gets answered later:

• Not sure how I feel about the number of narrators. I'm wondering how that's all going to come together. 
• There's an interesting framing device in the very first sentence of the book, "One may as well begin with Jerome's emails to his father." Clearly, this is a story that's being told, but by whom? And from when in the future? Even the story of the London debacle is told 9 months in advance of the events of the anniversary party. [PS. Given that it was 9 months later, am I the only one who thought that Victoria was going to end up pregnant?] 
• I appreciate Smith's ability to capture the small world/big idea feel of academia. I laughed out loud at this description of Levi swimming laps during Howard's speech at the party, "Everyone had noticed at the same time that there was a lone swimmer, and then almost everyone asked their neighbour whether they recalled Cheever's story. Academics lack range" (108). Have you read that story? It's amazing, but I was thinking of it myself. I'm not truly an academic, but definitely can appreciate the insular community described here. 
• As for the teenagers, the thing that most resonates with me so far is their fervent desire to be part of any other family but their own. Remember that feeling? That everyone else's family was cooler, different, and somehow better than yours? I think the author does a fantastic job of capturing the inner worlds of these kids still trying to figure the world out; especially considering the complex racial dynamics of being black in a white suburb, and of being in a mixed race family.

How's On Beauty treating you?

Kelly: I don't really have any history with this book -- I read White Teeth for a book group many years ago, but I really don't remember much about it. I remember it being good and I've heard that On Beauty is even better, so that seemed like a good reason to pick it from your list.  The fading on your book -- whoa. I can't remember -- are there curtains on those windows?

[Okay. My thoughts are a little disjointed here. I should have written this before we got a puppy. Please bear with me. I'm so tired!]

It was kind of a slow start for me with the oddly out-of-time-and-place emails (Who are these people? What is going on? Why isn't this guy responding to his son?) But after that, I found this story totally engrossing. I don't know why some books compel one to burn through them and, based on the general storyline of this book, I never would have thought this book would be un-putdownable for me. But it is!

What do you make of this section title? "Kipps and Belsey." It's singular. Does it refer to just Howard and Monty? Or is it the interaction between different individual Kippses and individual Belseys? Besides Howard and Monty, there's Jerome and Victoria, Howard and Michael, Kiki and Carlene... anyone else? I guess Zora doesn't really have a 1:1 with any one Kipps -- she greets the whole family at the party. (I'm not sure where I was going with this. It might be just as obvious as Howard and Monty, but the story just seems to be soooooo much bigger then just these two dudes.)

Regarding Howard, you say, "I found him an interesting mix of foolish and affable" -- and later, you use the exact word I thought when reading this -- what a buffoon. I am wrestling with the "likablity" issue -- everything about this guy makes me feel like I should *not* like him, and yet... I sort of... do? At least, I feel sorry for him. This Kipps "rivalry" seems so entirely one-sided. Kipps has won -- it's hard to say if he even notices that Belsey exists in the world. It's like rival college teams where one college is a huge powerhouse and the other is small... the small one view the powerhouse as their "rival" but the powerhouse? Usually views some other powerhouse as their true rival. I wonder who Kipps feels is his "true" rival.

I love Kiki. I love the juxtaposition of her wacky free-spirit self in the park -- bringing the dog along in the crowd, embarrassing her son with boob talk, etc. -- with her steely keep-it-together determination in the scene when she realizes that it's Claire. At the party, where she quietly gives Howard the boot through gritted teeth? Chills, I tell ya.

Woven throughout this story are jibes and comments about racial and gender inequalities. The racial observations were expected, but I really noticed some of the paw-swats at the feminist problem -- Kiki is speaking to Claire (before we know the full truth about Claire) about a trip that she and her husband have recently made:

"Was it just a vacation?" asked Kiki. "Weren't you collecting a prize or --?"
"Oh, a silly.... nothing, the Dante thing -- but that's not interesting. Warren spend the whole time in this rape field going crazy over this new theory..." [52]

Totally reminded me of How to Suppress Women's Writing, and also pissed me off the same way in that this book was written 10 years ago, but this problem of women "putting men first" is still an issue.

Although I generally enjoy the writing, sometimes I struggle trying to "hear" voices, based on their language. For example, Kiki is supposed to be from "simple Florida country stock," [8] but then she asks, "How am I meant to react?" [8] which is British phrasing (Americans generally say, "supposed to"). I realize she has been married to a Brit for a long time and has lived in England, so she probably picked up some of that, but this happens as we are still just "meeting" her and immediately after that Florida line. Perhaps it is the author's own British-ness shining through, but she then says "ass" twice and then Howard says, "Second arse of the morning." [9] so I feel like the author is pointing out: "Look! They're using different versions of the English language!" So that was just kind of disconcerting.

In response to your thoughts:

• I am okay with hearing from every character except when I feel like we don't hear from one "enough." But wait... what's the definition of "narrator" -- we get information from different people's perspective, but does the "narration" change in this book? 
• The 9 month/pregnant thing didn't occur to me at all. Whoops -- missed that point, if it was one. I actually thought about the length of a school year.
• I have read Cheever's story, but I didn't think of it when the person was in the pool. I actually thought of an episode of Weeds. So you know... not at all an academic over here. Heh.
• Regarding: Everyone else's family being cooler... I do remember that feeling -- remember how amazed I was that your family had Kool-aid?!

And, finally, here were some laugh-out-loud moments for me:

• "Look, of course I know you and your family have 'beliefs,' began Howard uneasily, as if 'beliefs' were a kind of condition like oral herpes." [38]
• Patriotic display rankings: "Fewer American flags than in Florida, but more than in San Francisco." [46]

Jenny: Oh, I loved those sentences you picked out as laugh out loud moments. I'm not sure what I'd call them, but I do think more highly of authors who can make the pithy observation. I think the best novelists are the ones who can find those inner moments and reveal them for the reader. I also noticed the flag one as particularly brilliant.

I love your Kipps and Belsey analogy---you're right in that it's all Howard's pitting himself against Monty, while Monty clearly thinks Howard is a twit. Lol.

You're right that this book is super readable---I think Smith has hit the perfect note of having interesting and fully-formed characters, but they are also likeable. The characters actions seem real without being just in service to the plot (ahem. for the most part. thinking ahead to the end here) and I enjoy being part of this world. On to Part 2.

Part Two: the anatomy lesson

Jenny: It's always interesting when a book is split up into section to see how the author makes the leap into the new section. I'll be honest that I was expecting a big leap forward in time from the reveal that Howard had not just had a one-night stand, but rather a full-blown affair with Claire. But it really just picks up pretty much immediately after. The break doesn't signal a time change, but rather an emotional one.

There was a lot about this section I enjoyed, mostly the descriptions of the interior lives of women and their relationships with each other. I recognized Zora's desperate need to fit in and impress, and how she battles her mother at every turn. This description of their struggle was just perfect, "Kiki felt herself a whetstone that Zora was sharpening herself against" (198). It seems to perfectly describe the way a child has to keep knocking into the parent to figure out their way---not looking forward to that. Lol.

Kiki's timid overtures towards Carlene Kipps perfectly capture the trepidation I think women feel when trying to make new friends as an adult. And it's in one of their first conversations that Smith sets up a recurring theme of the book, the question of how different characters think about love---and I don't only mean romantic love, but the guiding principles behind anyone's actions towards their family or lovers.  In their conversation, Carlene says, "I don't ask myself what did I live for...that is a man's question. I ask myself whom did I live for...I see very clearly recently that in fact I didn't live for an idea or even for God --- I lived because I loved this person. I am very selfish, really. I lived for love" (176). Kiki rejects this idea as either sad or pathetic, but it's a powerful moment in the book. And the reader is left wondering if this isn't Kiki's ideal, or doesn't describe her, then what would?

Immediately after, Kiki and Howard have a bitter fight, the first since the reveal of his affair. She breaks down and says, "I gave up my life for you. I don't even know who I am anymore" (206) In some ways, this is the same exact logic that Carlene expressed earlier, but here Kiki makes it plain that she feels victimized by it, that this happened to her rather than being a choice she made.

I would say I have two quibbles with this section: the cacophony of "narrators" feels overwhelming. Yes, you're right that the narration style is the same, but I don't know what word to use otherwise since it's revealing the interior world of these character. Why was the chapter from the point of view of the quiet Indiana girl necessary? Even the chapters from Claire's point of view seem a distraction. Does it matter why she engaged in the affair? Maybe it's just because I wanted to spend more time with the primary players---but these chapters were not as strong to me.

This leads to my second problem, which is my inability to figure out the current state of the marriage between Kiki and Howard. This section goes from Summer to Christmas----and they're marriage is just in a state of entropy. I mean, maybe this is how it happens when people get divorced----a sudden reveal followed by months of stasis? Even though my parents were divorced, I don't actually have a whole lot of insight into this as an adult. Interestingly, this section ends with the Kipps family squeezing Kiki out---nothing like the emotional devastation of the first section, but a feeling of loss regardless. Is this to remind Kiki that the friendship with Carlene was simply a diversion, a way of avoiding the tangled mess of her own family?

Kelly: The initial book discussion probably should have opened with this, but I don't read front matter until I am finished reading a book. I have since finished and read the Acknowledgements where Smith wrote: "It should be obvious from the first line that this is a novel inspired by the love of E.M. Forster, to whom all my fiction is indebted, one way or the other. This time I wanted to repay the debt with hommage." Have you read Howards End? I did in college, but remember nothing about it. Apparently, this book is a "modern day retelling" of it. The first line of Howards End is "One may as well begin with Helen's letters to her sister..." so that explains the first line of this book and the weird email opener. There are apparently a lot of other parallels between and the books. I guess Belsey's name is even kind of a pun -- will this be "Howard's End?"

And now, on to Part 2:

After getting so wrapped up in "Kipps and Belsey" as a section title above, I also sought explanation for the name "The Anatomy Lesson" -- it's the Rembrandt that Howard uses for his first class, but then... what else does that refer to? Whenever an author chooses to divide a book into parts (especially named ones), I want to know why, and this hasn't been 100% clear to me. But I press on...

I was glad to get more of Zora in this part, because I felt like she was underrepresented in the first. I must admit that this character makes me cringe. Her "too-smart-for-you" issues + just trying to get along in school/life/the social world -- It's a painful time, painfully portrayed. This line: "And so it happened again, the daily miracle whereby interiority opens out and brings to bloom the million-petalled flower of being here, in the world, with other people. Neither as hard as she had thought it might be or as easy as it appeared." [211] Yes.

You mentioned Zora pushing her boundaries, but I really noticed Levi pushing his. When he realizes he has gone too far with Mr. Bailey: "'Excuse me?' Levi's fury was backed on either side by pure terror. He was a kid and this was a man [...] This was not the world of the mega-store anymore [...] They has fallen through a loophole of law and propriety and safety." [192] It's a wake up call for him and I really felt his conflict when his smart-alecky confidence encountered this immovable force -- a man, treating him like a man. Oddly enough, he then proceeds to the seemingly dangerous world of street selling and that never really ends up as badly as I feared it might. What do you make of that?

As for the multitude of other characters' perspectives... still didn't bother me. I enjoyed getting to know all of these people. And I appreciated getting different perspectives on the same topic -- Zora's "compartmentalization" talk with Claire about the affair, the kids running into each other on the street and talking about their parents' relationship, etc. I think even the Indiana girl's perspective was to give us another set of eyes looking at Belsey and Victoria, buuuut... I don't think that perspective was necessary. I'm with you -- she could have easily been cut.

Regarding the entropy of the marriage, I have witnessed this in friends who have gotten divorced. Basically, the priority remains raising the kids, so the "action" of proceeding with completing the breakup takes a backseat. It can take a lot of time and energy to get divorced (depending on the financial situation and the disposition of the parties involved) so it ends up being another full-time job -- I think a lot of people just keep treading water rather than taking on an extra giant chore. Especially in this case, where one party (Howard) does not really want to get divorced. So it would be up to Kiki to take it all on herself. And, you know, she's already pretty damned busy!

Through Parts 1 and 2, I really don't have many problems with this novel (the wheels sort of come off for me in Section 3, but we'll get to that). I'd say my only nit is the coincidences. For instance, Carl: The guy Zora swapped players with is also the guy who swiped her goggles who is also the poet at the Bus Stop, blah, blah. I don't know why, but I find coincidences hard to swallow and I think they were laid on a little bit heavily here.  In flipping through my copy to refresh myself on the story, I also discovered this little piece of foreshadowing: "Victoria was looking at Kiki like a jealous lover." [270] Oof. Just... too much.

Once again, many individual lines really struck me... these two, in particular -- so true:

• "Any woman who counts on her face is a fool." [173]
• "This is why Kiki dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn't be able to protect them from self-disgust." [197]

And my laugh-out-loud moment: "Somehow if you ordered the cheesecake as an afterthought it had fewer calories in it." [236]

Finally, I find myself really all-over-the-place trying to talk about this book. I feel like I have so much to say and I'm struggling to winnow it down to the key points. So I asked my pal Google about what others have said, and I found this review entitled Thirteen Ways of Looking at 'On Beauty'  that totally sums up my problem -- I have a lot to say because there is a lot to say! 

Part Three: on beauty and being wrong

Jenny: "The wheels sort of come off," you said. Not only do the wheels come off, but then the car drives over the edge of the bridge and sets the river on fire. You and I talk a lot about "sticking the landing." But this seems an entirely different thing: Howard's affair with Victoria, the painting being left to Kiki, Zora holding all the cards. /eyeroll

Howard's affair with Victoria is so repugnant and frankly unbelievable---at least in the way it's described. Poor, old Howard! This beautiful young girl just fell into his lap, I mean, he didn't even really WANT to do it. I'm sure he would tell himself that, but what on Earth is *Victoria* thinking? Here's where the multiple narrators becomes a problem for me. Smith has been trotting them out all over, and when finally I'm semi-curious about what the ever loving fuck she's thinking...there's nothing. We're left to assume she's just trying to punish Daddy, I guess? Whatever. The whole thing was so gross that I didn't even want to spend much time thinking about it.

The plot with the artwork, for some reason I wanted to be more interested in this. Frankly, who wouldn't have responded the way the Kipps family did? Are we really supposed to be outraged about that? It's also sort of weird, and bothersome, that earlier it was revealed that the artwork that actually belongs to the Belsey family, the original stained glass windows from the house, are wrapped up and kept in the basement because of their value. There's an interesting thread here, but I'm so exhausted by the rest of the ending, I'm not sure I have the energy to pull it.

The part of this section that I found most moving is Howard's visit with his father. Clearly, Howard feels beleaguered by his father; but it's hard not to read the scene as an exploration of the ultimate parent-child dilemma: You think your parents are assholes, but are you really better than they are? Sure, the father is a racist jerk, but is Howard truly a better person? Continuing the book's theme of exploring how we treat the people we love, Howard flees the house, thinking, "He just did not believe, as his father did, that time is how you spend your love" (302). How sad for Howard, that he's able to explicitly see these differences with his father, and yet completely unable to see that he is also a failure with his own wife and kids.

I'm off to read Thirteen Ways of Looking at 'On Beauty' and anxious to hear your thoughts on part 3...

Kelly: Well, between you writing the above and me writing my thoughts, we had the following text  exchange:
Which basically sums it all up for me.

I was genuinely bummed by this final section. I tried to soften my feelings earlier when I said "the wheels *sort of* come off" just in case you had a different opinion, but we are in agreement: This book ended in a fiery damned crash.

Why on EARTH did we need the vile hook up with Victoria?! I mean, we've already agreed that Howard is a cheating moron. Do we then need this revolt-making scene? And you're right -- we basically get nothing from Victoria here, which is about the only thing that might have made it worthwhile. But it's at her mother's funeral and then she "kisses him maternally on the forehead" when it's over [318]. Just...NO.

Especially because literally the page before the abomination occurs, we get this lovely line as he is lost trying to find the wake: "It is on journeys like this -- where one is so horribly misunderstood -- that you find yourself longing for home, that place where you are entirely understood, for better or for worse. Kiki was home. He needed to find her." [307] And then he stumbles into the place and goes upstairs and does Victoria? UGH.

As I said in my text above, what struck me is that Zadie Smith was hell-bent on making this book a WMFuN and I have no idea why, because that story line is the weakest part of this book. It's like she said, "Wait... this guy is not f'd up enough... how can I fix that?" and she did. But why?

I was also sorely disappointed in Zora's jealousy meltdown with Carl... maybe because she has been such a sympathetic character throughout and then with this, Smith seems to be trying to destroy all of that. I mean, I guess that's fine -- no one is above reproach in this book, but I already felt like we were embarrassed enough for some of her other actions that we didn't need this EPIC display of insecurity and childishness. I guess that's how we get the reveal about Howard and Victoria, but, again... we didn't need that story either!

Okay, now I will pull some quotes that I enjoyed from this part, as I have from the others. And I will pretend that these are the only things that happened in Part 3 (is that wrong? Oh, well.) My first was that line above about home, which was so great and then basically ruined by the "rosy knot" that came shortly thereafter. So here is another:

Sadness swept over Jerome. They had nothing to say to each other. A five-year age gap between siblings is like a garden that needs constant attention. Even three months apart allows the weeds to grow up between you. [403] 

Not having siblings myself, I do not know if that is true, but I thought that imagery was lovely and bittersweet.

And, finally, of course, I flipping loved the "tomato" descriptions of all of the classes. Not only was it hilarious, but it was tomatoes, so you know that made me happy. So I'll end on this note:

Professor Simeon's class is "The tomato's nature versus the tomato's nurture," and Jane Colman's class is "To properly understand the tomato you must first uncover the tomato's suppressed Herstory" [...] and Professor Gilman's class is "The tomato is structured like an aubergine," and Professor Kellas's class is basically "There is no way of proving the existence of the tomato without making reference to the tomato itself," and Erskine Jegede's class is "The post-colonial tomato as eaten by Naipaul."[312]

Oh, On Beauty. You had such promise. But this ending... oof. So long, and thanks for the tomatoes!

Jenny:  Not sure I can beat that ending. Well said.

Kelly's Book 5.15: The Secret History

Dear Jenny,

Well, I am posting the preview post for my 5th book before we have finished chatting about Book 4, but it's okay: "It's our blog, we can post when we want to, post when we want tooooo..." Also, it's May 4 (Happy Star Wars Day!), so I gotta get this thing started cause it's a long-ish one.

Have you read it? It's been on my TBR shelf for a long while, but I ended up reading The Goldfinch first because it was in the ToB last year. People say The Secret History is better, so I am looking forward to it.

Speaking of The Goldfinch, do you find that you like it more or less as time has passed? Meaning, can you forgive the crappy ending now, remembering that it was good for most of it? Or does the terrible ending still overshadow the enjoyable parts? Just wondering.

I really know very little about The Secret History -- I think there's a mystery? A twist? A surprise ending? Mostly, I'm shocked to realize this book was published in 1992... and that was 23 years ago?! Whoa.

I know that May is a busy month for you -- what are you reading?


love,
kelly

Completed: The Last Lovely City

Dear Jenny,

Oh, crap. I finished this book in early March and, for some reason, was certain that I had written about it. Alas... nothing. Not even a "Jot-some-stuff-down" Draft post in here. And the reason I say, "Oh, crap" about this is because... I remember absolutely nothing about this book.

Except for the thing I already told you about in a comment, which is that I got halfway through it and found a dog-eared page which means that I had read that far before and remembered absolutely nothing.

That makes twice now that I have read this book and don't remember a thing about it. Oof.

So. It's a collection of short stories, as one GoodReads reviewer puts it: "Mostly uninteresting relationship stories." I would say that's harsh but... I guess they weren't that interesting, since I remember nothing about them. I mean, I've read several books since I finished this one, but still. A black hole, Jennifer. There is just a blank space in my brain in the shape of this book.

Let me flip through and see if I can find some notes or something in here...

Oh, yeah! It is weirdly divided into two parts. "Part 1" is the first 2/3 and consists of short stories with no connection to one another. "Part 2" is a sort of "novella" of four related stories written from different people's viewpoints. So that was odd. And, even though I don't remember that final novella, I do remember thinking, "Finally! This got interesting!" so I guess I was into that story, at least a little.  But even now... I can barely remember it, either.

It was published shortly before Adams's death, so perhaps she just wanted to get it done. If that's the case, this weird format makes sense.

You know... I just scanned the pages, thinking, "Well, I'll pull out some stuff here to talk about..." and then I decided: "No. No, I won't." Cause, what's the point?

And then I thought, "Oh, wait -- there was that one story with a twist at the end!" and then I realized, "Nope. That was from February's book, The Imperfectionists."

So. There's that.

This might be the biggest cop-out post I have done on this here blog, but I feel somewhat justified. Why work hard to dredge my memory for something that was not memorable?

So let's move on to On Beauty, because that book has lots to talk about!

love,
kelly

Completed: The Virgins

Kelly,

I read this book so fast I didn't even have time to write a preview post. Which is probably fine, because I only have the vaguest memories of why I bought this book. I'm pretty sure probably read this good review of it, and I'm even more sure it "felt" like it might be a ToB candidate. Alas.


The truth is, I read this one yesterday in a sort of mid-March panic. I mean, the reading part wasn't panicked. That was a fantastic feeling. After a solid 10 days of work deadlines of one kind or another, it was awesome to just lay (lie?) in bed with a book. I even cheated and took a nap. It was fantastic.

The panic part was about book selection----I was thinking I'd try and squeeze in another ToB book, but the ones that are left are pretty big. I guess I'm going to try and tackle The Bone Clocks next, but I'm ambivalent about it. Even though people I respect in the commentariat are telling me to read it, I still feel David Mitchelled out. Maybe I'll take in on vacation with me next week.

Then, I realized that our next "common" read is April, and I didn't want to get behind here. So I looked over my list (do you ever look over the list and wonder what the hell you were thinking? Hah!) and decided this would be a good one to read.

The Virgins is a prep school story, one set in the 1979-1980 school year at a boarding school in New Hampshire. The narrator, Bruce Bennett-Jones is telling the year long saga of the couple Aviva (a Jewish girl from the Chicago suburbs) and Seung (a Korean American boy from Jersey).

It's clear the author was going for a sort of Gatsby-esque vibe, only creepier. And although mid-novel, I'm not sure it worked, I think there is something sort of illuminating about it. After all, when you think about it, Nick Carraway is kind of a creeper. But Gatsby's saga is so, I don't know, breathtaking that Nick fades into the background. But the more you think about Nick, the more you wonder what he was doing watching over Gatsby and Daisy so carefully. He claims he was swept into it by Gatsby himself, but was he?

In this novel, there's no wondering. Bruce is obsessed with Aviva, and his creation of their story is clearly just that...created. He openly admits to creating the relationship out of bits and pieces of information along with whatever story he is telling himself to make his own behavior more acceptable. And trust me, there's plenty of bad behavior on his part. Bruce is a yucky little person, and I didn't enjoy his point of view. For that alone, I have to give the author credit. I disliked the narrator, but was curious about to read more about his creation of Aviva and Seung.

The novel starts in the fall and follows the couple through the school year and into the tragic events of spring, with the death of Seung. (This is given away by the fact that the narrator reveals it pretty early in the book, and also by the fact that his voice is pronounced "sang." Here's a new working theory I have for books: If the author makes the point of having their name be pronounced as the past tense of a common verb, you know they're toast. Anyhoo.) There was, more than anything else in this book, a lot of angsty teenage romantic fumbling. I would not recommend you listen to the aBook. Lol.

This was not a book I loved or hated. Meh. I promise to come back in a few months if it turns out I think about it all the time.

Jenny

Kelly's Book 3.15: The Last Lovely City

Dear Jenny,

Well this is another book I picked up entirely because of its cover. So, you know, shallow reader over here. (I will say this: I do then read the back and the first page to see if the book is interesting to me -- I won't just blindly pick up a book and buy it based entirely on its cover!)

Not sure if you can really tell in this post, but that's the Palace of Fine Arts there. So, you know, this book had my number. Heh.

I can't remember when I bought it, but it was published in 1999 and I think it might have been in my first year or so of living in CA. So... 2000 or 2001? Ooof. I also have a feeling that I have begun reading it, but I remember nothing about it (you know, 14-15 years later...)

It's a collection of short stories and I would say... Present-day Kelly probably would not have bought it. I think I maybe... don't like short stories. I can't put my finger on it, but it's looking that way for me. I guess 2015 will prove whether or not that's true, because at least 3 other books on my TBR list are collections of short stories and/or essays. (It's somewhat telling that these books have remained unread on my shelf, right?)

Mostly, I chose to read this book in March because it's short and I know I'm going to be super distracted keeping up with the Tournament of Books!

love,
kelly

Completed: The Imperfectionists

Dear Jenny,

I finished this book in February and it's already March! Dangit -- already I'm slipppping. Grr. Oh, well. I'm here now.

Well, my judgment-by-font totally paid off, cause I really enjoyed this book. But here's my problem: I liked it so much, I burned through it. So now I'm all, "Wait, what happened?" Fortunately, I did mark some pages, so lemme flip on through and see what I wanted to tell you... ah, yes.

The structure is very interesting -- the book covers the 50+ year story of a Rome-based newspaper by intertwining the history of the paper with seemingly disparate accounts from present-day people who are related to the paper in some way.

Ugh. I'm not doing a great job of describing this. I feel like I need to make a diagram. Let me try again. Basically, each chapter tells a short story about a totally different current-day character who is somehow related to the paper. Interspersed between those chapters is the history of the paper from its founding in 1953 right up to 2007. We never get any of the current-day characters twice, but we sometimes see them from someone else's perspective in another story. So two things happen as you read:

1. You slowly put together how the current-day characters are related ("Oh -- that's the best friend from that other story!")
2. You get the backstory that catches up to the current-day characters, so they come into play in the chronological story as you get there.

At first, I thought this would be annoying, because the current-day stories are so disjointed that it's basically a collection of short stories (some of them are kind of far away from the paper -- one is about a reader of the paper) (Although she does turn out to be also tangentially related to the paper itself...) (And her story is pretty nutso and really enjoyable) and because we never hear from that same character's perspective again, it's kind of difficult to really get into those characters.

Buuuut...  the chronological history-telling that is interwoven between those stories and is zooming from the past through on to today ends up bringing everything together as the story goes on. There is some seriously good story-weaving magic going on with this book.

Having said all of that... the paper's story itself is fine, but not terribly memorable (all I've got is "It's a paper in Rome.") Many of the characters are interesting, but I didn't get super-attached (I wished I could have heard more from some of them). However, that gorgeous story-telling structure was enough to keep me interested and plowing through it.

A few of the stories have a sort of "No WAY!" twist ending that caused me to either try to predict a crazy ending for the others *or* be disappointed when the stories were super-straight.  It feels a little like the author thought of the "twist" stories first, and then had to fill in the rest to make a full book. But it's forgivable because of the structure and the characters. Writing this, I want to re-read it to see more connections that I probably missed the first time.

I've been intentionally not spoiler-y because it's a book I would recommend, I think you would enjoy, and I know you would burn right through. So if you're interested in it, I'll lend it to you (maybe during the summer, when you might have some time to read!) If you're not, ask me some questions and I'll spoil away in the comments. Heh.

love,
kelly

Kelly's TBP 1.15: Cover

[Long-post warning here: in the process of writing this, I found a bunch of cool links to articles and interviews. I know you're super busy right now, so don't read this one until you have a bit of time to relax and enjoy it...]

Dear Jenny,

Oooh! I'm doing it! It's February March (well, I started this in February...) and I have already perused one book from my TBP list! Interestingly, it's the most recent addition, Cover by Peter Mendelsund (thanks for the Christmas gift!) I guess it's gotta be fresh to grab my attention? Maybe.

The cover of Cover. Heh.

I tried to capture the coolness of this cover, but I'm not sure I got it -- the images of the red book are printed directly on the front, spine, and back and then the dustjacket is a clear overlay with the title and author name printed on it. It's a nice effect. (Which is good for a book cover of a book about... book covers!)

Sooo... when you gave this to me, I didn't realize/understand that it's a retrospective of one cover artist's work. (A mid-career retrospective, at that -- he's only been doing it for 11 years!) I guess I thought it was about different book covers by different people. But it's not -- it's one super prolific designer. Who... got into this gig as a second career after being a professional musician for over a decade. Whoa. ("What am I doing with my life?" is a quick flashing thought there, I gotta admit. And then I remember... paying bills. Oh yeah.)

Anywho... I really enjoyed this book. I especially loved the fact that it shows many "rejected" book cover designs and it really breaks down the process of book cover design in a way that makes me think even more about book covers than I did before (didn't think that was possible).

The first part of the design process is about reading, as shown in this pull quote from the introduction by Tom McCarthy, who's book, C is one of the covers in Cover:

I found this great interview with Mendelsund and McCarthy with a far more detailed explanation of the book cover design process (that's a good read, if you've got some time.) (And a good "scan," if you don't!) 

Arguably, Mendelsund's most well-known work is the cover of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo:

I really enjoyed seeing earlier/rejected versions of the book, including one with that original (super harsh!) title, before they decided to change it for an American audience:

I actually prefer the more subdued color in the bottom right version and it sort of sounds like Mendelsund did, as well, but... the bright colors won out.

He also designed the other two books in the series, including The Girl Who Played With Fire:

Which was created from an actual photocopy of his daughter's hair:

Cool, right? (Aaand... what a cool claim to fame for that girl.)


This double-page spread is fantastic -- showing all rejected covers for one book:

And here's a great demonstration of the iterative process -- look how many covers he goes through for this book:

Ultimately, he didn't use any of these and, most noticeably, changed from that serif font to a sans serif one: here's the final hardcover version. And the paperback, which is the same image, but with some color.

While I was looking for that final version (it's not in the book, which I found odd), I discovered a really cool five minute video interviewing a bunch of different cover designers who describe their process for design (including All That Is).

He's done a lot of covers I have never seen before. Outside of the Stieg Larsson books, I think this one is the most recognizable to me -- I've never read this book, but I really like this cover:

And finally... you do have a copy of this edition of Ulysses, right? Because this design is inspired -- love the YES:

And, in fact, he discusses that design it in this interview, as well as his dislike for The Great Gatsby cover, which I also dislike. Mostly because people say that the eyes are those of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg, but I don't think they are -- where are the glasses, people?! Instead, I've always thought that the eyes were Daisy's, as described in this passage:

Unlike Gatsby and Tom Buchanan, I had no girl whose disembodied face floated along the dark cornices and blinding signs, and so I drew up the girl beside me, tightening my arms. [81] [emphasis mine]

(Interested in this discussion? Here's an article about it.) Taken as Daisy's eyes -- not Eckleburg's -- I am fine with the design. But the Eckleburg interpretation is annoying to me. Just put a green light on the cover of the damned thing and be done with it.

Aaand... I gotta wrap this up! I could go on and on about this book, but the final verdict is: Good stuff! Thank you so much for giving it to me -- a worthy perusal.

love,
kelly