Keith Richards is a Force of Nature

"Life" was way more entertaining than expected, and flew by despite the daunting number of pages (mostly thanks to Richards and Fox's easy writing style). If you're in the mood for a crazy autobiography, highly rec this one. A short & sweet review here at the New Yorker!

Minor Updates

Quick update as to where things stand moving into the new year! Still working on Gogol, mostly because other books from the library happened. Currently speeding through Keith Richards' autobiography, "Life" -- EXCELLENT. Who knew!

Checked off Jane Austen's "Persuasion" from the master booklist but I don't have much to say about it. I feel like the plot's become a cliche over time, though it was enjoyable in the sense that every Austen book is enjoyable for women. It was also fairly short -- to the point where it may have been a better, richer story if it was substantially longer. I was on a real romantic Victorian binge that weekend and watched the BBC production of "Persuasion" as well. That also gets a "meh" reaction from me, but I only got halfway through. Must try again over winter break. In the same vein, saw the newest movie version of "Jane Eyre"; my only complaint is that Mr. Rochester should totally be more beat up at the end. What's all this nonsense about "I have a beard and I'm blind, but I'll go shave and I'm getting my sight back"? I mean, in the book isn't his hand all gnarled and his leg messed up?

Plenty of book updates to follow in the new year, as I'll be stranded in rural New York for a week.

All About Death: Melancholia, The Corrections

Despite this blog being mostly for book commentaries, I occasionally need to jot down some thoughts on a movie. I've mentioned "Last Year at Marienbad" several times before (see: Sontag), so imagine my delight when I saw an allusion in Lars von Trier's "Melancholia" to the famous landscape shot! Reading this article by the excellent Jim Emerson also got me excited.

The last movie I saw by von Trier was "Antichrist" and I had such an intense visceral reaction to it -- here's a director that can make me suffer outside my comfort zone through beautiful art.

A couple things I mulled afterward:

1. I cannot agree with the statement that people and/or the world is evil. I can agree that everyone has the potential for evil ... and thus also the potential for good.

2. The main character's (Justine's) fatalism allows her to face total destruction gracefully and with her eyes open while her practical sister suffers a complete breakdown and her nephew retreats to a fantasy land. I suppose this is more of a reflection on clinical depression, because it's not as though Justine was out livin' the life before Melancholia came into view. For her this is welcome vindication and relief. I keep thinking of Dostoevsky's "The Idiot" where the condemned man is about to face the guillotine and the last two minutes of his life that he's portioned out to think about himself he instead spends staring at the sunlight's bright reflection off a building or something to that effect. I can't help thinking that right as you're about to die the world must look the most beautiful and you can't stand to leave it. So does that mean I'd rage against the end like Justine's practical sister? Well, who knows. It also reminded me of Camus' recent "Reflections on the Guillotine" which I wrote about a few entires back.

3. Given all of the above, I also pondered the fate that Justine's brother-in-law chose, which was to just kill himself once he realized the planet would hit. Spare yourself the exquisite suffering. So in that position, what would I do -- stay and watch till the very last seconds? There's always the hope that some miracle might occur and fortunes change. Hmmm. It helps to put things into less of a sci-fi planetary collision context, so on to the next topic of this post!

I FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY was able to read "The Corrections" by Jonathan Franzen. The book isn't so much about a plot as it is about people; I'll remember that family for a long time. Aside from the characterizations, it was the demise of Alfred that shook me. The thing is, he had chances to kill himself before he lost his wits (and really with that goes your identity, your person) and his freedom to a nursing home but he didn't do it. He couldn't shoot himself or stop swimming to drown. And then his very last chance to ACT (again Dostoevsky!) is to ask his son to kill him. The son refuses and Alfred is basically reduced to a non-entity. Personally, I always say that I'd rather commit suicide than lose myself to utter dementia and indignity -- who are you without your memories and consciousness? The prospect that I wouldn't be able to do that, or would put it off until it was too late honestly scared the bejeebus out of me.

So with that in mind, back to "Melancholia": maybe I'd be like the brother-in-law after all, rather than wait it out till the end to stare at the horror. But then say one does go that route, it's still the same effect; at the moment you "hear the guillotine" you can't stand to leave the world and that's why Alfred never pulled the trigger.

Back in Orange

To the sir/madame who snatched my poor laptop over two weeks ago: Booooooo.

Fortunately, thanks to my wonderful insurance company, I am back in business with a new clementine-colored little guy!

Things that have happened during the interim: "Last Year at Marienbad" showed up in "Melancholia" and made me think of Dostoevsky, I finally triumphed in my search for a copy of Franzen's "The Corrections," and I'm just getting back to "Dead Souls" by Gogol. More coming soon on those top two items.

So happy to be up and running again!

Literally, Oh My God!

Man, what cave have I been hiding in the past couple years? I cannot believe that Ken Follett's "Pillars of the Earth" didn't make it into my book pile until just now. Wow. And it was EPIC! Good triumphs over evil, God defeats Satan! I think I was on the verge of straining an eye muscle towards the end. It reminded me of the times when I read Harry Potter books in a weekend and "The Shining" in two days (the latter mostly because I was too scared to leave my recliner). And similar to Harry Potter, I thought it was a fantastic story even though the writing itself was basic. Follett can stitch a story like a quilt, but Cormac McCarthy he is not. That being said, "Pillars" is miles and miles above Dan Brown's DaVinci shenanigans and don't even get me started on the Twilight series.

I enjoyed this book so much that I'm going to avoid reading Follett again for a while; I'm afraid his other work won't be as exhilarating. This was a fun and easy break, and as soon as I catch my breath I'll be ready to get back to thinking.

Up next: It's autumn, it's getting cooler, so back to the Russians at last! "Dead Souls" by Gogol