The Writer, Reading
Most of my October was taken up by Reading Writers, and by actual reading—not that I’m complaining about either. The first episode of Season 3 will be out on Wednesday, and we’re now operating in partnership with Bookforum. Exciting, right? There should be some official announcement of this shortly. The podcast has consistently been a joy for me, but I think there are some superlatives in this new group of interviews.
I managed to write one Meant For You in October. It’s comprised of thoughts that have been cooking for months, about writing and other forms of creative work/love. I’d been hoping to write two newsletters a month for the second half of this year, but it’s not going to happen. It’s hard to strike the balance between imposing an artificial, unhelpful burden on myself, and using the outlet as a spur and a carrot. I hope to write one in November, but most of my energy for the indefinite future should be spent on ongoing longer form projects, especially my two (!) novels, so I might not send out another one for the rest of the year.
Reading:
My reactions to what I read this month feel sort of incoherent, and are typical reading experiences for that very reason. Book titles in blue were/are discussed on Reading Writers in forthcoming episodes.
The Aesthetics of Degradation — I’ve loved several Nate West essays (this and this), so I decided to give this book a try despite my expectation that I would hate it passionately. I did hate parts of it but not as wildly as I anticipated. I think it’s good for straight men to think about how pornography makes them feel. I don’t necessarily get anything out of their ruminations, but on the whole I would like for it to be encouraged and done more often. I don’t want to get into all my thoughts about the book here, but I would like to talk about it with someone or maybe include it a survey style essay someday soonish. (But, then again: my novels! I need to focus!)
All That Man Is — Now HERE’S a book I hated. Started out okay, then began to tank around the middle when I realized all the men in question were going to be boring losers. The best section is probably the one that revisits a character from London and the South-east although it’s still miserable. Made me think about how often men build meaningless aka loveless lives for themselves and then decide life itself is meaningless. But I don’t think a majority of them do this… Even MAGA-style racists I grew up with had a sense of humor and cared about something other than money. I’m not saying they’re good people but they had inner lives, real desires and opinions. These guys are all supposed to be at various crisis points, essentially, but compare Tolstoy’s middle life crisis to theirs. It’s like comparing a dog to a Swiffer. Are vacancy, superficiality, selfishness, and inertia interesting to read about for 450 pages? No, but the first three qualities aren’t the problem. The blurbs are so effusive and insane that I have to assume all responsible parties had never read a book before. This is proof the (straight, white) male literary panic is as disingenuously manufactured as panics get. Side note: why is Szalay so captivated by car rides?
Resurrection — My usual policy is to not read the books Reading Writers guests come on to talk about or even ascertain that knowledge in advance. Here’s why: 1) it’s fun to be surprised by their picks, and to give them flexibility in case they want to decide last minute, and 2) I want listeners to be able to follow and enjoy the show always, regardless of whether or not they have read it, so I’m the voice of the people. But when Jackie Ess mentioned she wanted to talk about Tolstoy’s final novel, I said, hot damn. I have to get in on that.
This is a book that I’ve grown to appreciate much more in the wake of finishing it. I felt mostly ambivalent about and bemused by it while in the thick. Its strengths and weaknesses are obvious (to me.) On one side, the characters, the premise. On the other, the rants, the relative lack of drama, and the aesthetic blandness. Its moral vision, I think, splits people down the middle in terms of plus or minus. For me, this was/is mainly a document about Tolstoy himself. I can imagine some people looking down on my relating to it that way because you’re not supposed to use fiction to perform authorial forensics, whatever. That’s stupid. I am happily locked in a place of seeing Tolstoy first and foremost as kindred spirit and fellow seeker.
“Grim and didactically purposeful” nails it. As a Certified Tolstoy Girl, I give it my full recommendation.
London and the South-East — Fascinating reading experience. This has to be the most boring book I’ve read all year and it’s hard to believe something will show up in November or December to take its place. There’s very little rising tension, no climax, lots of what I would call red herrings for moments of impending conflict. Yet I chose to read it over plenty of other more exciting options. I think of it as a quintessentially white British guy book, which is not a compliment but not exactly an insult either. It just is what it is.
A Confession — This was high on my TBR list anyway, and Jackie’s impending Reading Writers convo was the push I needed. It’s not as good as My Religion, but essential nonetheless, with moments of unintentional hilarity. It’s basically an exact outline of my own midlife crisis. Am I flat-out saying that I’m just like Tolstoy, having only implied as much a few lines above? Yes.
Animal Stories — More and more, a category of book has emerged for me that could be called “inspirational” if that word didn’t have such a treacly, annoying connotation. What these books inspire is the desire to write while borrowing their form and/or attempting the same effect (as opposed to say, mimicking tone or content.) It’s not about being fully imitative, it’s more like I want to experiment with the same approach they’ve taken, which usually isn’t so exotic or experimental but still uncommon enough to be striking. In fact, it’s more interesting to me if the approach seems straightforward, but is an angle I hadn’t considered before. I find I need constant reminding that, when it comes to writing, anything is possible and everything is allowed.
Obviously I resonated with the first half of this book, which is animal-heavy, but the second half, about Kafka, was what captured my imagination. I want to write something like this about Tolstoy!
Murder Bimbo — Devoured this, but grew increasingly impatient with the narrator and the book as it progressed. I can say a few positive things about the ending (they would be major spoilers though, so I won’t) but I was left liking it less than I had at the start. It’s Gone Girl except Gone Girl is better but what could top Gone Girl? It’s like saying my own books aren’t as good as, I don’t know, Elfriede Jelinek’s The Piano Teacher. Absolutely you should read it, and additionally listen to the RW discussion and let me/us know your thoughts.
Living With Men — I’m so glad I read this. It manages the impossible, which is to be enjoyable despite the subject matter. I appreciated its curiosity, candor, and intelligence.
Tell Me How You Eat — Much like Living With Men, it is good company, warm but sharp. Its analysis of anorexia is the most original I’ve encountered and I believe I’ll be thinking about it as definitive for a long time. I provided a blurb for this and here it is: “A defiant and original inquiry, written with an intelligence as inviting as it is uncompromising. Husain's insistence that every person who eats (or doesn't) should be recognized as a complex and dignified individual is indeed revolutionary.“ I really try to be precise and honest with my blurbs since it’s so easy for them to sound like (and be) corny lies. But it’s hard to escape the limitations of this particular form.
When the Horizons Close — The Tamez books that I’ve read have the most specific audience/application of all the books I’ve read this year. What I said about The Scandalous Message of James applies here, too. I intend to keep reading her work until I’ve read all that’s been translated.
Chainsaw Man (Vols 5-16) [not pictured] — I (re)read these in advance of the movie but didn’t start with the first book because I’d rewatched the anime pretty recently. Great story, great characters, though I never know what the fuck is happening in fight scenes and don’t spend any time trying to figure it out. They just look a mess to me but I’m fine with it because if monsters were punching each other through buildings and moving super fast in real life, and I were an eyewitness, I wouldn’t be able to track what was happening either. I have no vocabulary for talking about comics and few points of comparisons, so I should not be your go-to on any graphic matters. Chainsaw Man is the best, though: one of my first anime AND manga.
Listening
Musically, I’ve been weebing out pretty hard, mainly to hardnuts’ Ark. The first three tracks together are perfect, and then “空白” at five is so beautiful. “Falter” is gorgeous, too. They lose steam about 2/3rds through the album and could have left off some of the final tracks altogether...maybe. After listening for another month, I might change my mind. Right now “blue moon” is my favorite. Kind of a Young Jesus vibe (in 2018, their best era) or maybe I just mean there are moments in The Whole Thing is Just There that make me feel like some of the moments here, in Ark. Go boys, go 🥹
The other big weeb listen is 羊文学’s Don’t Laugh It Off. They tend towards a 90s sound, and “声,” one of the singles, sounds specifically Michelle Branch-esque to me. Also very good are “Feel” and “Haru no Arashi” (if you are a JJK fan familiar with “More Than Words,” the similarities will be pronounced.) Solid, likable tracks throughout.
I’m still obsessed with/addicted to Fontaines D.C.’s Romance and have also been enjoying Lily Allen’s West End Girl. I’ve never listened to a Lily Allen album before and don’t usually care for her style but this is great story telling. It also makes me feel nostalgic, maybe because as someone who’s listened to her so little, her music immediately takes me back to “Smile.” But, also, something about the whole album makes me think of Girls (the show.) To be clear, it’s not exciting songwriting. There is no track as good as the best on Ark or Romance. But I think she achieved exactly what she wanted to. And sorry but I kind of wish I were living the David Harbour/escort lifestyle described in ”Pussy Palace.” (Talk about nostalgia!)
Just mentioning albums here gives such an incomplete picture of my listening, not that anyone cares except me… No one cares about anything here except me, that’s why I don’t inflict it on others in newsletter form. Anyway, the single songs I’m into are so good, they deserve their time in the sun. I thought about doing a playlist for this month’s blog post but it feels like at this point I might as well just wait to share an end of year playlist(s) which I will try to do for my own peace of mind.
In the podcast department, I loved the LARB conversation on literary men. Also, I got so much out of LRB Bookshop’s Ariana Reines interview.
Watching
Chainsaw Man: Reze Arc — As I’ve said many a time, I don’t like movies. They underwhelm and annoy me; I am immune to their alleged magic. (Funny how this very topic comes up in CM.) The Chainsaw Man movie isn’t a normal movie, though, it’s a 100 minute anime episode, so I was pleased with my viewing experience. The production company did a wonderful job adapting the material and I’m glad they chose this route over episodic.
Demon Slayer — Ever heard of it? It’s really fun and the animation looks expensive. Take a shot every time Tanjiro gasps/screams “Nezuko!” and I’ll see you at your funeral.
