Books Keep Moving Around

Books keep moving around in my life. They come in to my house from the library, they return to the library. I buy some, then either give them to friends or the library for the library sale, only keeping a few. I move books from home to my office and back. I buy books for others, bring them home, then give them to family and friends. I lend books to friends. Recently when a colleague/friend whose office was across from mine retired, he put piles of books out for others to take if they wanted; I couldn’t resist taking a few, although I don’t have much more space in my office for more books. Other times I have been the one putting books out for others to take. When I have textbooks I no longer need, or don’t think I will use, I put them in our department resource room. Although I certainly have kept some books for a long time, and treasure having them in my home or office, I also feel happy when I return books to the library or to a friend, or pass books on to my mom or daughter or to the library or to a friend. I feel good about the idea of books circulating among many, rather than always retiring quietly to one person’s bookshelves.

"Unpacking My Library: Writers and Their Books"

Are you constantly curious about what other people are reading? When you go to people’s houses or offices, do you surreptitiously run your eyes over the books on their bookshelves? “Unpacking My Library: Writers and Their Books” (Yale, 2011), edited by Harvard English Professor Leah Price, offers a rare opportunity to exercise this curiosity. First, it is a lovely, horizontally rectangular hardback book, with thick, sturdy, coated pages, inviting you in. Second, it is full of gorgeous photos of writers’ bookshelves throughout their houses. The writers are (including three couples who share chapters) Alison Bechdel; Stephen Carter; Junot Diaz; Rebecca Goldstein and Stephen Pinker; Lev Grossman and Sophie Gee; Jonathan Lethem; Claire Messud and James Wood; Philip Pullman; Gary Shteyngart; and Edmund White. Each writer’s section starts with an overview photo of the shelves in her/his/their rooms. This is followed by several pages of up-close photos of shelves, close enough to easily read the titles and see the condition of the books: some old and grand, some in sets, some dog-eared and falling-apart paperbacks, some interspersed with other objects, some perfectly packed in, some crammed in every which way. Also in each writer’s chapter is a brief interview with the editor, on such questions as when the writers started acquiring books, whether they keep everything or regularly pass books on, what kind of shelves they use and why, their system of organizing their books, and where else in the house they have books (kitchen, bedroom, bathroom?). One interesting question asked of the couples was whether they kept their books separate or “interfiled.” (The answer was generally combined, but with a clear awareness of who had brought each book into the relationship.) One more delight in each chapter is the list of the writer’s “Top Ten Books” on one page, and a photo of those ten books on the facing page. I thoroughly enjoyed perusing the various bookshelves. I was pleased to note that many of the writers chose among their Top Ten some of my most-loved books: for example, several chose one of Virginia Woolf’s novels; a couple chose George Eliot’s “Middlemarch”; a couple more chose one or more of Jane Austen’s novels; and one chose an Alice Munro short story collection. This book is a delight. What an abundance of information, photos, and the sheer joy of books!

On Stopping Reading “The Vanishers,” by Heidi Julavits

I kept hearing about Heidi Julavits. She was a founding editor of The Believer magazine. Her novels are praised for their originality. But the reviews of her first three novels never quite drew me in. So when I read about her new novel, “The Vanishers” (Doubleday, 2012), I thought that this time I would try to read it. It sounded intriguing: It features a young protagonist named Julie who is studying at an institute for psychics. Her powers are increasing, which the proprietor of the institute, Madame Ackermann, finds threatening; she casts a sort of spell on Julie. Julie struggles with this problem at the same time she is reliving her mother’s long-ago suicide and looking for answers. The psychic part isn’t really up my alley, but the character and story sounded compelling. I got a few pages into the book, and realized it felt like uphill work. My interest was flagging. I pushed through a little bit longer. I got to about page 40; I am not sure which page exactly, because I kept falling asleep and losing my place. The next day I thought maybe I had just been too tired to read the night before, so I persisted a little longer. It didn’t work. Finally I gave up and gave in to my inclination to just stop reading it. Suddenly I felt liberated. Good, I didn’t have to read it! And just like that, it went onto the “return to the library” pile. A relief. I don’t mean to say it isn’t a good novel; the reviews I have read have been excellent. But for some reason it is not a novel I want to read, or at least I don’t want to read now. I long ago decided that I didn’t have to have a reason to stop reading a book I wasn’t enjoying; not enjoying it was enough of a reason.

On Trying Not to Repeat Myself

I have been writing this blog long enough now (a little over two years) that I occasionally can’t remember if I have already written about a certain author or topic. I do have a “system” of keeping track; it is elementary and low-tech, but it works. I have a document on which I list all my post titles by date, and also by category (books, authors, reading, lists, etc.); whenever I do a new post, I immediately enter that information on those lists. However, now that I am up to almost 600 posts, if I have a question about a prior post, or a possible prior post, even looking up a specific topic is not absolutely simple or quick. The “find” function on Word is helpful but not infallible. I would be highly embarrassed if I repeated myself. Although probably very few readers would remember, I am guessing someone would. So I hope my memory, backed up by my recording system, keeps me from making that mistake!

"Eminent Outlaws: The Gay Writers Who Changed America"

The title of Christopher Bram’s new book, “Eminent Outlaws: The Gay Writers Who Changed America” (Twelve, 2012), says it all. Bram, himself a gay novelist, traces the lives and work and increasing visibility of gay writers in the U.S. and their books, plays, and poetry, as gay literature moved from being veiled and indirect when addressing gay themes and characters to being much more open. Progress was not linear, however; at times these writers suffered when they were "too" open, and sometimes some of them moved back into the publishing closet for a while. There are chapters on various writers through the years, in more or less chronological order. Only gay male writers are included; Bram states that “lesbian literature has its own dynamic and history. It needs its own historian.” Writers discussed include W. H. Auden, Tennessee Williams, Gore Vidal, Allen Ginsberg, James Baldwin, Christopher Isherwood, Truman Capote, Edward Albee, Armistead Maupin, Edmund White, Andrew Holleran, Larry Kramer, James Merrill, Mark Doty, David Leavitt, Tony Kushner, Michael Cunningham, and more. This very readable book weaves together gay history, politics, literature, and culture (along with some great stories about the lives and loves of these writers) and reminds us of the huge influence gay writers have had on American literature and life.

"Citizen," by Aaron Shurin

At a recent event at the University of San Francisco, I heard two fellow faculty members, Aaron Shurin and Micah Ballard, read their poetry. I have mentioned Shurin’s work before (e.g., on 3/18/11), and will focus on his reading here. (I also enjoyed hearing Ballard’s poetry.) Aaron read from his latest book, “Citizen” (City Lights, 2012), a collection of prose poems. As he read, I was mesmerized by the brilliant imagery, one image following another in a gorgeous cascade. I was in awe, and grateful for the chance to hear it read aloud, always the best way to experience poetry. And I felt again how fortunate I am, working at a university, to be around such creative and inspiring writers and artists.

"Dying for a Blue Plate Special," by Beth Kalikoff

My friend S. told me about enjoying a mystery novel by her colleague and friend Beth Kalikoff; it is titled “Dying for a Blue Plate Special” (Five Star, 2005). I like the occasional mystery, and I respect S.’s recommendations, so I found and read the book. It takes place in Tacoma, in Washington, a state I am partial to (I have had several relatives and friends there, and it is very close to one of my childhood homes, Vancouver, BC.) It is set mostly on and around a fictional campus there; campuses are also settings I -- as a long time college faculty member -- am familiar with and fond of. The portrayal of the campus and of the various faculty members is satirical and quite negative in some cases; this is part of a long tradition of the campus satire. The heroine, Jewel Feynman, is a descendant in another tradition: the tradition of feisty female detectives that began in the 1970s with such PIs as Marcia Muller’s Sharon McCone, Sara Paretsky’s V. I. Warshawski, and Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Milhone. Jewel is not actually a detective, but rather a caterer (thus the title); however, when a much-disliked and manipulative college dean dies at a meal Jewel has catered, she turns detective in order to rescue her catering business’ reputation and future. Like the earlier detectives mentioned above, Jewel presents a (mostly) confident, no-nonsense, snappy front, although she is actually often insecure and vulnerable. When she is angry, as she is now about the imputations that her food caused the dean’s death, she becomes fearless and a bit reckless in her pursuit of the truth. There is plenty of humor and even some romance in this book, along with the catering and the detecting. Although this mystery does not have the complexity of a Dorothy Sayers or P. D. James novel (and how many do, after all?), it can compete with books such as Sue Grafton’s, is very entertaining, and kept my attention throughout.