Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Road taken.

Cormac McCarthy's The Road is a amazing book, but I don't know if I'd recommend it to everybody.

It stands over other post-apocalyptic stories out there because it's a fresh take on the end of the world but simply beautiful throughout. Sure, there is no life anywhere; the sky drops ash, plants continue to die, no animals live, and what few humans are left have reduced themselves to primitive bands of cannibals. It's the best, cleanest, and prettiest writing used for the ugliest situation.

In the middle of this utterly bleak and horrifying view of the end-of-days is a shred of hope and light. A father and son—alone
together—connect us to a nightmare. Their journey let's us see pure love in the darkest of times.

Neither are named, and the reason for the apocalypse is never explained, because it's not the point of the story.

Their journey begins somewhere in the American wasteland, their destination is the coast. The evidence of a decaying world tells the father that nothing awaits the pair there, but any goal is important for them to hold onto for their sanity.

Food is unbelievably scarce; they starve constantly. They hide nightly like rats, building fires they pray goes unnoticed. The child is afraid, sad and lonely, without a mother who took her life years ago. Death surrounds the broken family as they trudge on, fighting the elements of the physical world and the fears inside their heads for a better tomorrow. Although you get the feeling early on that a good day never comes. There a few high points here and there but mostly it's exposed suffering.


The real beauty of the book comes in two: the intimate, subtle interactions between father and son and the perfectly detailed environment. It’s acssesable enough writing to make you feel like your 10-year-old brother could read this book. But make sure you keep his grubby, immature hands off this book, because it should only be read by adults.

See, this book is incredibly depressing, which brings up the question of reading for entertainment. There were days I simply could not pick up the book and read it, fearing what would come next. Somedays I didn’t want to be exposed to the emotions the book brought forth. It made me question why I read books. Normally, books are my hobby, I read them for fun. But what happens when your hobby drags you through the mud and garbage and makes your macho ego feel like cuddling up with a box of tissues and producing waterfalls? It was hard, and more than a few times I considered switching to something lighter.

But I marched on, much like the two central characters in The Road, and in the end I was glad I read it. This book made me feel, it made me think and consider how lucky I am to live in a society of relative normalcy, where things are stable and I don’t have to dig through trash to survive. I felt emotions I never felt, and I got to watch a true master at work. Cormac McCarthy’s knowledge and control over the English language makes him a true rarity among writers, and I recommend you read something of his before you die. There’s no way to describe it, you’ll just have to pick it the book up yourself.

P.S. Hollywood made a movie after the book, and it’s quite brilliant. Of course, for legal reasons, I have to say the book was better. But it stars Viggo Mortensen, and if that’s not reason enough to watch the movie, leave.

Ark Sakura 2

"Things never go the way you plan them, except in fantasies" - Mole

About 2/3 of the way through "The Ark Sakura," now. Some observations:

- I don't know if its changed tones, or if my perspective on it has changed, but this book's in full-on grim comedy mode now.

- It's reminding me a lot of "A Confederacy of Dunces," a book I liked a lot. Like in Dunces, the main character of "The Ark Sakura" is a hopeless, misanthropic and generally unlikeable slob. But where Dunces puleld its comedy from dark social satire on the peoples and attitudes of the south, this book seems more interested in the absurd.

- I like this book enough to finish it, but so far it isn't really blowing me away. There's no anchor to this book. All the characters are dirtbags, and the book is just full to the brim with this cynical, unfriendly atmosphere.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Boarding the Ark Sakura

Picked up a new book yesterday: "The Ark Sakura," by Japanese literati phenom Kobo Abe.


Abe is a member of the fantastic generation of Japanese writers that grew out of the post-war period. Some of my favorite novels come out of that generation, including Abe's pseudo-science fictional drama "The Woman in the Dunes."

Unlike his contemporaries Oe and Mishima, whose works are bold but understated character studies and realist fiction, Abe seems to be more interested in science fiction and the fantastic as morality parables. In "the Woman in the Dunes," the struggle of the protagonist to escape the strange village which trapped him in a hole to work, digging away sand for the rest of his life was a metaphor for the struggles of Japanese society, struggling to dig itself out of it's post-war hole. It spun out reflections on capitalism, the value of possessions and skewed gender politics.

From its first few chapters, "The Ark Sakura" seems to be a similar kind of book, but written for a different time (the mid 80s, rather than the mid 50s.) In this book, the main character, a repugnant and reclusive man named Mole has acquired an underground quarry with which to survive the nuclear holocaust he believes is imminent. But first he needs to find crewmembers.

Like "The Woman in the Dunes," this book has an unusual flow, mixing surreal observations about the flow of everyday life with the dryest, blackest sort of humor. Even though nothing terrible has happened so far, I can tell there's nothing good in store for Mole or his crewmembers.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Failure to launch: "What Would Buffy Do?"

We're starting this baby off with a whimper, not a bang. You see dear readers, Portland State University, my collegiate bit on the side, offered a class this quarter: "Exploring "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." As much as I love Buffy and her adventures fighting vampires (a refreshing change of pace from what teenagers do with bloodsuckers nowadays,) I love not spending $500 even more.

So instead I went to the local library and ran a search for Buffy the Vampire Slayer books. They had a lot. I picked this one:

She looks about as embarassed to be on the book as I did carrying it around.

 Don't get me wrong, I didn't go into this expecting Moby Dick, but I thought the fusion of Buffy the Vampire Slayer with philosophy 101 would be entertaining enough to hold my attention. Instead it's a dull, schlocky, turgid mess. 

This is a good example of what this surprisingly dense book sounds like:

"For Willow, and also for us, the experience of having been forgiven is the best reminder of why we forgive: Giles' comment to Willow deserves repeating. We don't forgive because people deserve it but because they need it. And so do we. Forgiveness is a reminder of our own human frailty and imperfections; it helps us to cultivate compassion for each other, because we recognize that all of us hurt each other in seemingly unforgivable ways. As Jesus told the crowd that had gathered around the adulterous woman in the New Testament, only the person who is without sins has the right to cast the first stone."

More rubber monsters and dry witticisms, less "Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul" next time, k?

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Diamonds in the rough

Let me preface my introduction by saying thank you for visiting our humble book blog, whether by accident or not, we appreciate you visiting and reading our words.

As for me, I’m Kevin Vandenburg, the Independent’s Life editor and the other half of The Indy Bookworm. Ever since being forced to read Bible stories as a kid, my love for books has blossomed. And you know, that love keeps blossoming. There is literally no end to the amount of great authors and astounding books to consume, so really I am addicted to reading. If one book bores more, I find another one. I’m a hopeless “bookworm.”

But with all these amazing books out there, I sadly find it harder to find people who I can discuss books with. Trust me, you’ll get dirty looks when you suddenly approach Barnes and Noble shoppers yapping about the latest Sedaris book. So this blog can be a venue for frank and straightforward talk about the books we love, enjoy, hate, and find.

So check back soon, because Randall and I have tons of content coming your way, starting with reviews of some books you have to check out (hint: any Cormac McCarthy book). Welcome to your one-stop book talk.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Welcome to the Indy Bookworm!

Hey there kids. If you're reading this, you probably either already know your way around a bookshelf or two, or maybe you're just lit-curious (it's okay. College is a time for experimentation with serious Russian authors.) If you're neither of these things, maybe you should take a look at our other blogs.

The purpose of this blog is to record our thoughts on books. Big books, small books. Ambitious books and fun drivel. Anything worth reading and everything not worth your time.

My name is Randall Theil. I'm the design manager at the Independent. I've been actively reading books since I was a kid. It's always been one of my favorite hobbies, and I'd like to think I can read and enjoy any genre of book if it's a quality piece of work.

But I have a secret.

You see, I haven't actually been reading that much lately. Lately as in, the last four or five years. So one of my goals with this blog is to kick start my own reading appetite, because there's a lot out there I haven't seen. So kick back and relax, readers.