I like the idea of this far better than the execution. I share Pericoli's obsession with views, with the way the frame of a window frames your perceptI like the idea of this far better than the execution. I share Pericoli's obsession with views, with the way the frame of a window frames your perception, and how much the environment outside your window can shape your creative life. His ink drawings are simple but can be evocative -- though often I do wish they incorporated color or more detail. It's the essays that really let this concept down. They're just not very interesting or good? Which is especially disappointing when your contributors are all writers. But most simply do not have anything compelling to say, and one even starts going on about "the nobility of poverty" (vom).
2.5 stars, rounded up for what could have been....more
The most 2005 book to ever exist, despite having its origins in the '80s. Farts around on the fence between intellectual and crude (he quotes WittgensThe most 2005 book to ever exist, despite having its origins in the '80s. Farts around on the fence between intellectual and crude (he quotes Wittgenstein -- but also cusses! lol) but doesn't really say anything. Ends with "sincerity itself is bullshit," which is some pure mid-aughts BS of its own.
Read to get off my shelf, as I'm not sure why I had it in the first place....more
This is not a well-edited book of essays, I am sad to say. Spark's friend, Penelope Jardine, begins with a preface that pauses to complain that books This is not a well-edited book of essays, I am sad to say. Spark's friend, Penelope Jardine, begins with a preface that pauses to complain that books aren't religious enough these days (Me: ...uh-oh), then collects a series of pieces that are either redundant to each other or mere scraps. We get the same anecdotes about how Spark won a story prize, was admired and aided by Graham Greene, and reviewed positively by Evelyn Waugh multiple times, to the point that it begins to seem like she is simply bragging. Then there are three pieces on Emily Brontë; three on Mary Shelley plus one on Percy; two on Robert Louis Stevenson -- was this really all to be found?
The promised cat content, by the way, is less than three pages of text plus one (very fetching) photograph, covering Spark's love of her cat Bluebell...then Bluebell's tragic early illness and euthanasia (brutally described), after which Spark vows never to have a cat again. My previous cat also died tragically at four, so I sympathize, but yikes -- this in no way fulfills the promise of the copy or Jardine's introduction.
The pieces that do resemble full, substantial essays are dry and unilluminating, telling the reader little about Spark or her passions, except that they include Emily Brontë, Mary Shelley, and Robert Louis Stevenson.
A disappointment from beginning to end. I have to believe -- to hope! -- that Spark had more interesting nonfiction output that for some reason simply didn't make it into this collection....more
DNF. Something wasn't sitting right with me, and so I went and looked at the author's twitter and discovered she's a transphobe who uses her platform DNF. Something wasn't sitting right with me, and so I went and looked at the author's twitter and discovered she's a transphobe who uses her platform to promote lies and conspiracy theories to harm a marginalized group. I'm not interested in the supposed feminism of anyone who shares these views....more
Endlessly charming, like talking to an old friend or relative about food and cooking. And actually, my mother's classic creamed spinach recipe is an aEndlessly charming, like talking to an old friend or relative about food and cooking. And actually, my mother's classic creamed spinach recipe is an adaptation of Colwin's!...more
Amis makes anime eyes and pleads, "Notice me, senpai!" at Saul Bellow for 200 pages (even the title is a Bellow quote). I don't understand Amis' obsesAmis makes anime eyes and pleads, "Notice me, senpai!" at Saul Bellow for 200 pages (even the title is a Bellow quote). I don't understand Amis' obsession with and generosity toward Bellow, especially when he's so tart and clear-eyed toward all the other literary figures he profiles in this book (though I think he's a bit unnecessarily harsh with Roth -- perhaps because Roth is perceived as the direct rival to his Special Guy?). Still, this is a highly enjoyable collection of essays. The pieces are very much of their time, especially the political ones, but this gives them a time capsule-like quality that's fascinating, if a bit bracing. We've both made a lot of progress (Amis sticks his neck out to defend AIDS patients in an essay that modern Twitter would absolutely tear apart) and...haven't (Amis predicts that the Religious Right will never run the country...tragically off base there, Marty!)....more
Roxane Gay is an excellent writer and an expert opinion-haver. Unfortunately, I do not think this collection was well-selected. A full third to half tRoxane Gay is an excellent writer and an expert opinion-haver. Unfortunately, I do not think this collection was well-selected. A full third to half the pieces are editorials on current events, and in this particular moment (January 2024) I feel like I am at the worst possible distance to appreciate hot takes on the events of 2016-2022ish. I remember them; I was just there! I think this section will have historical significance, so I am glad the pieces have been collected, but I can't say I enjoyed (re)reading them.
My favorite section was Gay's literary and film criticism; I may not always agree with her, but her analysis in these areas is always fascinating and fresh. But this was unfortunately followed far too soon by an interminable section of celebrity profiles that all read as fairly starfuckery and, frankly, insignificant. (Bland piece on Charlie Hunnam why -- except to make clear that you have interviewed Charlie Hunnam?) Finally there are surprisingly few excerpts from Gay's advice column -- so few as to feel unfortunately like an afterthought.
I think Gay is, and will long-term prove to be, an important writer, but I don't think this was the right assemblage of pieces for the present moment....more
This was fine, though not as interesting as I had hoped -- or further outside my wheelhouse than I had expected. Yanagi discussesMystery box book #24!
This was fine, though not as interesting as I had hoped -- or further outside my wheelhouse than I had expected. Yanagi discusses his/the Japanese aesthetic philosophy, different type of Japanese and Korean folk art, the founding of the Japan Folk Crafts Museum, and the Japanese takeover of Korea (which he was against, to his credit). It was nice to learn about some of these traditional art forms, but the writing was more repetitive and less illuminating than I would have wished....more
Truman Capote writing fake Tumblr stories decades before Tumblr.
Everyone Clapped, Oppa Homeless Style, and the Down With Cis BusMystery box book #19!
Truman Capote writing fake Tumblr stories decades before Tumblr.
Everyone Clapped, Oppa Homeless Style, and the Down With Cis Bus are all more convincing than "Handcarved Coffins," the "nonfiction novel" at the center of this collection. Listen, I know In Cold Blood was largely/in part B.S., but it was effective and atmospheric and feels like it contains enough truth to be, if not real, than somehow realer than real. "Handcarved Coffins," likemost of the other pieces in Music for Chameleons, feels faux.
Also Capote claims to have slept with Errol Flynn, which: sure, Jan.
And yet I feel kind of bad for him! The book opens with a grandiose introduction in which he brags about his in-progress magnum opus, Answered Prayers, which he never finished; it ends with a piece that's him masturbating/talking to himself, which made me wrinkle my nose and then feel deeply sad. This is not a book written by a man doing well. It's also not a very good book. In every way, I'm sorry, Truman....more
Look, I think Samantha Irby is genuinely funny; I've seen her perform live and she can absolutely own a crowd. But this book justMystery box book #18!
Look, I think Samantha Irby is genuinely funny; I've seen her perform live and she can absolutely own a crowd. But this book just made me feel bad, which is not a great thing for a supposed humor book to do. Irby's style -- her whole schtick, really -- is self-deprecation, which I know a lot of people find refreshing and relatable. But here, especially when the other main theme is aging, it just feels to me like we're listening to Sam -- our cool, clever, witty friend Sam -- call herself a dumb bitch for 300 pages. Would you say that about your friend, Sam? No? Then stop saying it about yourself! Stop making it the load-bearing pillar of your work! Because every echo of "yeah, this is me, I'm just a dumb bitch too!" does not feel like a healthy mental space to put myself in....more
Well, after successfully avoiding this for over twenty years, believe it or not I had to read it for work.
This reads to me like dispatches from anotheWell, after successfully avoiding this for over twenty years, believe it or not I had to read it for work.
This reads to me like dispatches from another universe. I am a professional woman in my 30s. I live in New York City. I barely intersect with the Bushnell dimension. This is not a judgment. I just don't understand it -- why is everyone so bitchy? How do they have the time and energy for all these parties? WHERE DO THEY GET THE MONEY? Even as an anthropological guide, this fails me. It provides no insight. It's just Carrie and Mr. Big getting in lots of tedious fights while on private planes to Aspen. Okay? Is this fun? Is this sexy?
I have somehow known without knowing for almost three decades that this was not my kind of book. I was right....more
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