I'm about to admit to what amounts to a cardinal sin for the modern, liberal-arts-college-graduate writing student: I don't like Pablo Neruda. There, I said it. I feel better already.
Neruda is one of those super-loved poets who is loved by poetry readers and non-poetry readers alike. He's basically a go-to referencef or everything "poetic" for contemporary "thinkers." Which, honestly, is probably one of the reasons I don't like him. He has his moments, but I've never understood why his poems have managed to reach people in a way that Rilke hasn't. Why?
Honestly, this column isn't here to explore that question (though, just to be clear, I think it's because Neruda is a love poet and Rilke is primarily concerned with death, and most people are secret sentimentalists who prefer the former). Instead, this post is going to celebrate that most glorious of foods: French fries! Because it is summer, and because french fries are awesome. I had some just yesterday, but quite frankly, the fries described in this poem sound like they could trump those anyday. Enjoy!
Ode to French Fries, by Pablo Neruda
Translated by Ken Krabbenhoft
What sizzles
in boiling
oil
is the world's
pleasure:
French
fries
go
into the pan
like the morning swan's
snowy
feathers
and emerge
half-golden from the olive's
crackling amber.
Garlic
lends them
its earthy aroma,
its spice,
its pollen that braved the reefs.
Then,
dressed
anew
in ivory suits, they fill our plates
with repeated abundance,
and the delicious simplicity of the soil.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
An Awesome Debut Novel
Book Reviewed: Galveston, by Nic Pizzolatto
Warning: I may be just a tiny bit biased when it comes to this book. Pizzolatto is a writing professor at my alma mater, and I was a senior when it was announced that this book, his first novel, was bought by Scribner. So, admittedly, I might have given this book extra points just for that fact. But frankly, this book is good enough on its own that it doesn't really need those extra points anyway.
Galveston has been praised as a return to the noir genre. Its about criminals and violence and secrets. But it's also about living and dying, burying emotion and finding salvation in unexpected places. The narrator, Roy Cady, works for a criminal organization when he finds out he has a fatal illness at the age of 40. When he goes out for a job, he realizes he's been trapped by his own people. He manages to escape, but he gets saddled with an 18-year-old prostitute named Rocky and, eventually, her toddler sister. They try to hide out on the Texas gulf coast, but both their pasts catch up with them pretty quickly, leaving all kinds of damage in the end.
Roy is a really interesting narrator, and Pizzolatto does him a great service by giving him two "jobs": providing the action as the protagonist AND telling the tragic story of the girls he's protecting. Maybe the best thing about Roy, though, is how he manages to be both sympathetic and terrifying at the same time. He's extremely violent and dangerous, not afraid to kill or maim to get at what he needs. Yet, by the end, you can't hate him because you see the toll his lifestyle has taken on his humanity.
Meanwhile, Rocky is a complex female character, something you don't always get in a crime story like this. I expected to hate her when I met her, and I doubted Pizzolatto's ability to make her more than just a boring woman-in-peril catalyst. But as the book goes on, she takes on all kinds of new depths, and Pizzolatto makes her act exactly her age: a child and an adult simultaneously. Her story arc goes along quite nicely with Roy's.
If I had not known anything about Nic Pizzolatto or had never had a conversation with him before, I never would have guessed this was a first book by a young author. It's so well written (really, the writing just gets more and more wonderful as the book goes on) and tight that it feels like the work of someone who's been publishing novels for decades. However, I guess this shouldn't surprise me. At my alma mater, Pizzolatto is famous for his intensity. The man is quite a perfectionist when it comes to his writing. I can only imagine the kind of blood, sweat, and tears that went into making this book.
So overall, if you're looking to discover a new writer, I'd highly recommend trying out Pizzolatto and Galveston. It's a fantastic debut with a very satisfying and bittersweet ending (and, of course, a killer last sentence). And if you like that, I'd also recommend his beautiful story collection, Between Here and the Yellow Sea. You won't be disappointed.
Warning: I may be just a tiny bit biased when it comes to this book. Pizzolatto is a writing professor at my alma mater, and I was a senior when it was announced that this book, his first novel, was bought by Scribner. So, admittedly, I might have given this book extra points just for that fact. But frankly, this book is good enough on its own that it doesn't really need those extra points anyway.
Galveston has been praised as a return to the noir genre. Its about criminals and violence and secrets. But it's also about living and dying, burying emotion and finding salvation in unexpected places. The narrator, Roy Cady, works for a criminal organization when he finds out he has a fatal illness at the age of 40. When he goes out for a job, he realizes he's been trapped by his own people. He manages to escape, but he gets saddled with an 18-year-old prostitute named Rocky and, eventually, her toddler sister. They try to hide out on the Texas gulf coast, but both their pasts catch up with them pretty quickly, leaving all kinds of damage in the end.
Roy is a really interesting narrator, and Pizzolatto does him a great service by giving him two "jobs": providing the action as the protagonist AND telling the tragic story of the girls he's protecting. Maybe the best thing about Roy, though, is how he manages to be both sympathetic and terrifying at the same time. He's extremely violent and dangerous, not afraid to kill or maim to get at what he needs. Yet, by the end, you can't hate him because you see the toll his lifestyle has taken on his humanity.
Meanwhile, Rocky is a complex female character, something you don't always get in a crime story like this. I expected to hate her when I met her, and I doubted Pizzolatto's ability to make her more than just a boring woman-in-peril catalyst. But as the book goes on, she takes on all kinds of new depths, and Pizzolatto makes her act exactly her age: a child and an adult simultaneously. Her story arc goes along quite nicely with Roy's.
If I had not known anything about Nic Pizzolatto or had never had a conversation with him before, I never would have guessed this was a first book by a young author. It's so well written (really, the writing just gets more and more wonderful as the book goes on) and tight that it feels like the work of someone who's been publishing novels for decades. However, I guess this shouldn't surprise me. At my alma mater, Pizzolatto is famous for his intensity. The man is quite a perfectionist when it comes to his writing. I can only imagine the kind of blood, sweat, and tears that went into making this book.
So overall, if you're looking to discover a new writer, I'd highly recommend trying out Pizzolatto and Galveston. It's a fantastic debut with a very satisfying and bittersweet ending (and, of course, a killer last sentence). And if you like that, I'd also recommend his beautiful story collection, Between Here and the Yellow Sea. You won't be disappointed.
Monday, July 12, 2010
A Look into the Writing Process of a Master
Book Reviewed: Trimalchio, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
I'll be upfront about this post: If you haven't read The Great Gatsby, this review might not make a ton of sense to you. Just thought I'd give you the warning from the top. Oh, and if you haven't read Gatsby yet, what are you waiting for, huh!?
By now, you all know I am obsessed with Fitzgerald and The Great Gatsby. He's my favorite writer; it's my favorite book. I tend to think of Gatsby as a perfect piece of literature. It's so tight you can make beautiful music when you pluck it. The language is precise and clear and poetic. The characters are hard to love but recognizable. It's all just put together so well that even if you don't like it, you have to admit it has an amazing construction. That's why I try to read the book every summer (and I do believe summer is the best time of year to read it, a time of year that's intense but lazy at the same time). But this year, I decided to try something different. I tried an early version of the novel instead.
Trimalchio is the version of The Great Gatsby that Fitzgerald submitted to his publishers in the fall of 1924. It was only after receiving the page proofs of the book that Fitzgerald turned it into the novel we know today. It's really cool to see how Fitzgerald managed to completely restructure an already well-done book in just a few short months. If anything, it makes you realize that his reputation as a literary giant is definitely earned.
Trimalchio (the title comes from a character from the Satyricon) mostly stayed intact in its final incarnation as Gatsby. Whole passages remain the same, and the plot basically hits the same notes. The differences all exist in the small things, and it's those small things that really make the published book a masterpiece. In this version, Nick Carraway, our moral narrator, is a bit of a snob; Fitzgerald made him much more sympathetic and pathetic in The Great Gatsby. Also in this version, Jay Gatsby's background is stated a little less artfully, and Jordan Baker is made even more of a liar but given more to do. Of course, the thing I noticed about the book is how many adverbs Fitzgerald must have struck from his prose before the final draft, which just goes to show you that I've maybe read Gatsby a few too many times.
So all in all, it was really cool to have a chance to read this early version of my favorite book. It shows you what a genius of revision Fitzgerald was. I've argued for years now that what made Fitzgerald's work great was his ability to get rid of his worst instincts when it really mattered. People who don't write don't understand how hard that is, but trust me: Fitzgerald is a master at turning bad ideas into beautiful moments. Trimalchio proves that.
And now, just because this is my favorite book of all-time, I'm going to go ahead and confess to the levels of my nerdiness in regards to The Great Gatsby. When reading passages of Trimalchio that remained in the final book, I actually teared up from happiness over reading something so wonderfully done. There are short scenes and throw-away sentences in that book that literally make me shake. It's really quite sad. But if that isn't a reason to be a reader, then I don't know what is...
Side Note: This weekend, I also finished Supernatural: The Unholy Cause, by Joe Schreiber. It's a tie-in novel to one of my favorite TV shows, Supernatural. It was so bad that it does not even earn a review on this site. It provided enough entertainment for the couple hours it took to read, but man, was it terrible.
I'll be upfront about this post: If you haven't read The Great Gatsby, this review might not make a ton of sense to you. Just thought I'd give you the warning from the top. Oh, and if you haven't read Gatsby yet, what are you waiting for, huh!?
By now, you all know I am obsessed with Fitzgerald and The Great Gatsby. He's my favorite writer; it's my favorite book. I tend to think of Gatsby as a perfect piece of literature. It's so tight you can make beautiful music when you pluck it. The language is precise and clear and poetic. The characters are hard to love but recognizable. It's all just put together so well that even if you don't like it, you have to admit it has an amazing construction. That's why I try to read the book every summer (and I do believe summer is the best time of year to read it, a time of year that's intense but lazy at the same time). But this year, I decided to try something different. I tried an early version of the novel instead.
Trimalchio is the version of The Great Gatsby that Fitzgerald submitted to his publishers in the fall of 1924. It was only after receiving the page proofs of the book that Fitzgerald turned it into the novel we know today. It's really cool to see how Fitzgerald managed to completely restructure an already well-done book in just a few short months. If anything, it makes you realize that his reputation as a literary giant is definitely earned.
Trimalchio (the title comes from a character from the Satyricon) mostly stayed intact in its final incarnation as Gatsby. Whole passages remain the same, and the plot basically hits the same notes. The differences all exist in the small things, and it's those small things that really make the published book a masterpiece. In this version, Nick Carraway, our moral narrator, is a bit of a snob; Fitzgerald made him much more sympathetic and pathetic in The Great Gatsby. Also in this version, Jay Gatsby's background is stated a little less artfully, and Jordan Baker is made even more of a liar but given more to do. Of course, the thing I noticed about the book is how many adverbs Fitzgerald must have struck from his prose before the final draft, which just goes to show you that I've maybe read Gatsby a few too many times.
So all in all, it was really cool to have a chance to read this early version of my favorite book. It shows you what a genius of revision Fitzgerald was. I've argued for years now that what made Fitzgerald's work great was his ability to get rid of his worst instincts when it really mattered. People who don't write don't understand how hard that is, but trust me: Fitzgerald is a master at turning bad ideas into beautiful moments. Trimalchio proves that.
And now, just because this is my favorite book of all-time, I'm going to go ahead and confess to the levels of my nerdiness in regards to The Great Gatsby. When reading passages of Trimalchio that remained in the final book, I actually teared up from happiness over reading something so wonderfully done. There are short scenes and throw-away sentences in that book that literally make me shake. It's really quite sad. But if that isn't a reason to be a reader, then I don't know what is...
Side Note: This weekend, I also finished Supernatural: The Unholy Cause, by Joe Schreiber. It's a tie-in novel to one of my favorite TV shows, Supernatural. It was so bad that it does not even earn a review on this site. It provided enough entertainment for the couple hours it took to read, but man, was it terrible.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Poem of the Week: "Firecracker Catalogue," by Jay Hopler
This day last week, I was watching fireworks alongside my best friend and former college roommate. Watching the colors explode in the sky, I felt an enormous sense of comfort in the knowledge that all over the country, millions of people were doing exactly what I was doing at that moment, staring at the fizzled sky alongside family and friends. It's not often you can say that about an event, which is what made it such a wonderful, content feeling.
Of course, as usual, the experience reminded me of a poem. When one of my favorite contemporary poets, Jay Hopler, came to do a reading at my alma mater, he read his "Firecracker Catalogue." He told us that as a child, he wanted to grow up and name fireworks, so this was his way of addressing that dream. I always thought it was a cool poem, and a great one to read aloud. Enjoy!
Firecracker Catalogue, by Jay Hopler
Garden of Starlit Flowers
Flaming Chrysanthemum
Blue Umbrellas (w/ report)
All-Blooming Chandelier
Birds of Double Paradise
Happy Lightning Rocket
Innumerable Stars (12 ct.)
Bomb of Heaven Singing
Jumbo Christmas Missile
Jumping Monkey Candle
Pink Carnation Dynamite
Fountain of Silver Kisses
Emerald Parachutes (7 ct.)
Loudly Flowering Bower
Wall of Sunlit Butterflies
Repeating Beehives (blue)
Repeating Beehives (gold)
Bouquet of Wild Comets
Blessèd Festival Cannon
Blessèd Family Firebomb
Of course, as usual, the experience reminded me of a poem. When one of my favorite contemporary poets, Jay Hopler, came to do a reading at my alma mater, he read his "Firecracker Catalogue." He told us that as a child, he wanted to grow up and name fireworks, so this was his way of addressing that dream. I always thought it was a cool poem, and a great one to read aloud. Enjoy!
Firecracker Catalogue, by Jay Hopler
Garden of Starlit Flowers
Flaming Chrysanthemum
Blue Umbrellas (w/ report)
All-Blooming Chandelier
Birds of Double Paradise
Happy Lightning Rocket
Innumerable Stars (12 ct.)
Bomb of Heaven Singing
Jumbo Christmas Missile
Jumping Monkey Candle
Pink Carnation Dynamite
Fountain of Silver Kisses
Emerald Parachutes (7 ct.)
Loudly Flowering Bower
Wall of Sunlit Butterflies
Repeating Beehives (blue)
Repeating Beehives (gold)
Bouquet of Wild Comets
Blessèd Festival Cannon
Blessèd Family Firebomb
Friday, July 2, 2010
This Week in Trashy Reads #8
Trashy Read #8: Lord Perfect, by Loretta Chase
How awesome is Loretta Chase? Pretty damn awesome. I'm pretty sure she can take just about any cliche historical romance plot and create a book that's funny, charming, and a blast to read. She mastered the form with her amazingly perfect Lord of Scoundrels (one of my favorite books I've read this year). And although some of her books are kind of hit-and-miss in general, they are always a lot of fun.
Lord Perfect is a really fun book. The morally upright (and very bored) Benedict Carsington (aka Viscount Rathbourne) is in change of his super-precocious adolescent nephew, Peregrine. The two end up meeting the gorgeous widow Bathsheba Wingate and her clever daughter Olivia. Benedict and Bathsheba are ridiculously attracted to each other, but his family is Very Important and she comes from a horrid family known as the Dreadful DeLuceys. Peregrine begins taking art lessons from Bathsheba and eventually learns that Olivia plans to run away to find some family treasure. He hopes to stop her by going along, but gets dragged into her schemes instead. So Benedict and Bathsheba end up going after them and, of course, end up falling in love.
The story is very charming. Benedict isn't like most alpha-male historical heroes. Rather, he's a little stuffy at first but eventually opens himself up to show a good sense of humor and a strong heart. Bathsheba works hard to make a life for her and her handful of a daughter. And then, there's Peregrine and Olivia, who I hope really get an eventual book of their own. Because there is no way those two can't grow up, find each other again, and fall in love. At least in my mind that's what happens.
So anyway, as usual, Loretta Chase does not disappoint. She's quickly becoming my go-to romance writer. I adore her, and if you haven't checked her out yet, I'd really recommend you do.
Next in Trashy Reads: Although I have a glorious pile of both historicals and contemporaries to read, I'm quite taken with more "serious" books right now. So it may be a few weeks until our next entry. But who knows? Maybe I'll be in the mood for a trashy read before then...
How awesome is Loretta Chase? Pretty damn awesome. I'm pretty sure she can take just about any cliche historical romance plot and create a book that's funny, charming, and a blast to read. She mastered the form with her amazingly perfect Lord of Scoundrels (one of my favorite books I've read this year). And although some of her books are kind of hit-and-miss in general, they are always a lot of fun.
Lord Perfect is a really fun book. The morally upright (and very bored) Benedict Carsington (aka Viscount Rathbourne) is in change of his super-precocious adolescent nephew, Peregrine. The two end up meeting the gorgeous widow Bathsheba Wingate and her clever daughter Olivia. Benedict and Bathsheba are ridiculously attracted to each other, but his family is Very Important and she comes from a horrid family known as the Dreadful DeLuceys. Peregrine begins taking art lessons from Bathsheba and eventually learns that Olivia plans to run away to find some family treasure. He hopes to stop her by going along, but gets dragged into her schemes instead. So Benedict and Bathsheba end up going after them and, of course, end up falling in love.
The story is very charming. Benedict isn't like most alpha-male historical heroes. Rather, he's a little stuffy at first but eventually opens himself up to show a good sense of humor and a strong heart. Bathsheba works hard to make a life for her and her handful of a daughter. And then, there's Peregrine and Olivia, who I hope really get an eventual book of their own. Because there is no way those two can't grow up, find each other again, and fall in love. At least in my mind that's what happens.
So anyway, as usual, Loretta Chase does not disappoint. She's quickly becoming my go-to romance writer. I adore her, and if you haven't checked her out yet, I'd really recommend you do.
Next in Trashy Reads: Although I have a glorious pile of both historicals and contemporaries to read, I'm quite taken with more "serious" books right now. So it may be a few weeks until our next entry. But who knows? Maybe I'll be in the mood for a trashy read before then...
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
West Baden Springs Hotel, 1 : Writers, 0.
Book Reviewed: So Cold the River, by Michael Koryta
I rarely get to read books set in places I've actually been. Sure, there's books with scenes in Paris's Latin Quarter or set in South Carolina or whatever. But I'm talking about books that take place in actual rooms where I've stood. And I very rarely get to read books about places that I've not only been to, but that I actually love. Which is why I went out and ordered the hardcover copy of Michael Koryta's new book as soon as I heard about it last week.
So Cold the River takes place at one of the most amazing sites I've ever stepped foot inside: the West Baden Springs Hotel in southern Indiana. During a visit to the infamous resort town of French Lick, Indiana, a couple years ago, my family went on a tour of the historical West Baden hotel. At that time, the hotel had just come under new ownership and was beginning to be restored to its former glory. Before that, it had sat for decades as basically very pretty ruins. From the very first glimpse I had of the hotel, my breath was completely taken away. I can honestly say that the West Baden blew my mind. It's such an incredible place, full of history and wonder. Its most famous feature, its massive atrium dome, was a groundbreaking architectural phenom at the time it was built. That dome is so big I could barely comprehend it when I saw it. Seriously, I can't describe how awesome that place is. Here's the website for the newly restored (and now very expensive) resort. Please look at the pictures. I think you'll agree it's something.
Anyway, despite all its grandeur, there's something kind of creepy about a place that big sitting so empty for so many years. Not to mention how strange that whole part of Indiana is, with its rolling hills and its underground river. So it's no surprise that Koryta, who lives in Bloomington and apparently grew up near French Lick and West Baden, chose to make his book about the hotel and its surrounding area a supernatural thriller. Unfortunately, it wasn't that scary. Or thrilling for that matter.
The book centers around Eric Shaw, a filmmaker without much of a film career. He's resorted to making movies about people's lives to be shown at funerals and weddings. After one funeral, he gets chosen by a woman named Alyssa Bradford to make a movie about her dying father-in-law, a mysterious businessman who abandoned his hometown of West Baden, Indiana. Shaw stays at the famous hotel and attempts to make his film, but he ends up just getting haunted instead. He encounteres ghosts and mysteries and some really terrible people. We meet a variety of characters who try to help him find the truth as he begins to get a little too into the history of West Baden as a producer of "healing waters" over the last century.
The problem with the book is that it's kind of boring. It reminded me of a case-heavy episode of my favorite guilty pleasure, the TV show Supernatural. I don't mean that as a compliment. The book just doesn't have much spark to it. Koryta writes wonderfully about that part of Indiana, and he uses French Lick and West Baden to terrific affect. As I read the novel, I couldn't help but wish he had written either a straight mystery or a piece of literary fiction centering on an unfairly misunderstood place. Unfortunately, he wrote an uninteresting ghost story instead. Oh well. At least I got some major kicks out of reading a book about one of my favorite places in the world.
But seriously you guys: This book might not have been that great. But West Baden Springs Hotel? That place kicks ass.
I rarely get to read books set in places I've actually been. Sure, there's books with scenes in Paris's Latin Quarter or set in South Carolina or whatever. But I'm talking about books that take place in actual rooms where I've stood. And I very rarely get to read books about places that I've not only been to, but that I actually love. Which is why I went out and ordered the hardcover copy of Michael Koryta's new book as soon as I heard about it last week.
So Cold the River takes place at one of the most amazing sites I've ever stepped foot inside: the West Baden Springs Hotel in southern Indiana. During a visit to the infamous resort town of French Lick, Indiana, a couple years ago, my family went on a tour of the historical West Baden hotel. At that time, the hotel had just come under new ownership and was beginning to be restored to its former glory. Before that, it had sat for decades as basically very pretty ruins. From the very first glimpse I had of the hotel, my breath was completely taken away. I can honestly say that the West Baden blew my mind. It's such an incredible place, full of history and wonder. Its most famous feature, its massive atrium dome, was a groundbreaking architectural phenom at the time it was built. That dome is so big I could barely comprehend it when I saw it. Seriously, I can't describe how awesome that place is. Here's the website for the newly restored (and now very expensive) resort. Please look at the pictures. I think you'll agree it's something.
Anyway, despite all its grandeur, there's something kind of creepy about a place that big sitting so empty for so many years. Not to mention how strange that whole part of Indiana is, with its rolling hills and its underground river. So it's no surprise that Koryta, who lives in Bloomington and apparently grew up near French Lick and West Baden, chose to make his book about the hotel and its surrounding area a supernatural thriller. Unfortunately, it wasn't that scary. Or thrilling for that matter.
The book centers around Eric Shaw, a filmmaker without much of a film career. He's resorted to making movies about people's lives to be shown at funerals and weddings. After one funeral, he gets chosen by a woman named Alyssa Bradford to make a movie about her dying father-in-law, a mysterious businessman who abandoned his hometown of West Baden, Indiana. Shaw stays at the famous hotel and attempts to make his film, but he ends up just getting haunted instead. He encounteres ghosts and mysteries and some really terrible people. We meet a variety of characters who try to help him find the truth as he begins to get a little too into the history of West Baden as a producer of "healing waters" over the last century.
The problem with the book is that it's kind of boring. It reminded me of a case-heavy episode of my favorite guilty pleasure, the TV show Supernatural. I don't mean that as a compliment. The book just doesn't have much spark to it. Koryta writes wonderfully about that part of Indiana, and he uses French Lick and West Baden to terrific affect. As I read the novel, I couldn't help but wish he had written either a straight mystery or a piece of literary fiction centering on an unfairly misunderstood place. Unfortunately, he wrote an uninteresting ghost story instead. Oh well. At least I got some major kicks out of reading a book about one of my favorite places in the world.
But seriously you guys: This book might not have been that great. But West Baden Springs Hotel? That place kicks ass.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Congrats, Dana and Matthew!
Hey everyone! I just wanted to post a quick note letting you know I won't be posting anything for the next four or five days. So there won't be a new Poem of the Week on Sunday or any new reviews. I'll be out of state, but I have a pile of some very exciting books coming with me, so expect an onslaught of reviews later next week.
I'll be going to Alabama for the wedding of one of this blog's most loyal followers. I know it's going to be an awesome time. So enjoy your weekend, everyone, and congratulations to Dana and Matthew!
I'll be going to Alabama for the wedding of one of this blog's most loyal followers. I know it's going to be an awesome time. So enjoy your weekend, everyone, and congratulations to Dana and Matthew!
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