This memoir, written by social media phenomenon Julia Fox herself, has me confused: Without even a hint of self-reflection, the author depicts her jouThis memoir, written by social media phenomenon Julia Fox herself, has me confused: Without even a hint of self-reflection, the author depicts her journey through trauma, bad decisions and self-destruction, while glamorizing her ways as if she was some beat poet - and to me, that's one of the neuralgic points: If Fox was a man, people would probably compare her lifestyle to the likes of Dash Snow, who roamed downtown Manhattan with his circle of friends, caught up in a haze of drugs and sex, until he died of an overdose so high it was probably suicide. Fox is ostentatiously hedonistic, treats a lot of people like trash, and unapologetically strives to be famous for being a disturbing one-woman-show. The main difference to Snow is not that he was a man though, but that he was not only a flamboyant, attention-seeking drug addict with mental problems, but also a bona fide visual artist.
So I guess what puzzles me is not that she does all that shit as a woman, but that her work is just not that relevant, let alone up to the standard of artists like William S. Burroughs (another proponent of the downtown heroin lifestyle), so I don't know why I should care to ponder how the artist persona relates to the artwork in the case of Fox (and if you now wonder why I should even categorize Fox as an artist: She clearly sees herself as one, and she even attended the New School). To me, Fox comes off as someone who is per se not particularly interesting, but she's a master when it comes to playing the media game. She knows the attention economy of the digital age, she uses it openly, and she does not apologize - and people celebrate her for being honest. If you think about it, it's kind of sad.
And yes, Fox is honest and does not try to portray herself in a particularly good light, but then she switches it up by selling it as being a bad ass. Look at me, I was shooting up heroin! I was a dominatrix! I slept with trashy men, and then I prostituted myself to trashy men, and then I slept with even more trashy men! I won't reflect upon it, I just puke it all out in a (admittedly rather well-written) book, and then I try to gaslight you into thinking that I'm culturally relevant!
In the end, Fox claims to have single-handedly invented all trends of 2022. I want receipts. In fact, I want receipts that Fox has created anything artistic outside of playing the attention game. I'm a huge fan of beat and pop lit, and I'm fascinated by messy artists, but I still don't see why I should care about Julia Fox....more
Longlisted for the German Book Prize 2023 This entry deals with the South Tyrol Option Agreement, which was a deal struck between Nazi Germany and fascLonglisted for the German Book Prize 2023 This entry deals with the South Tyrol Option Agreement, which was a deal struck between Nazi Germany and fascist Italy that required the German and Ladin-speaking populations in Italy to decide whether they wanted to stay and get italianzed or move to the German Reich. Mall tells the story through the eyes of 11-year-old Ludi, whose father decides to take the family to the Reich, where his disabled brother Hanno is admitted to a so-called care facility (which, as we as readers instantly know, means that he will be murdered because of his physical and mental properties that do not adhere to the standard). The father volunteers to fight in WW II, thus defending the principles that justify the "euthanization" of his son as "unworthy life" (the Nazi expressions for killing the innocent in the name of the "racial purity" of the "Aryan race", two concepts that in reality of course don't exist).
And the text aesthetically also works with the perversion of concepts, in this case "Heimat" (home) and nature. Playing on the genre of the Heimatroman, Mall asks what home means for the German-speaking community in South Tyrol when they moved to a new place, the Reich, that they deemed their real home due to reasons of blood (another esoteric Nazi concept). In haunting images, he shows how in the name of nature (a.k.a. the alleged natural order of things, a right wing staple), brutality takes over: The (in Germany) mythological deer appears as a rotting corpse and later as a bug, alluding to the Nazis calling their enemies vermin; after an argument about "German blood", the children pass a butcher shop where German blood sausage is produced; while the soldiers die in the "field of honor" (Feld der Ehre), so the battlefield, the children walk by a field of ears (Feld der Ähre); and I'm not going to spoil how the gruesome metaphor of the title-giving dog plays out.
The perspective of the children who try to grasp what is happening, trying to find a logic behind the madness, is wonderfully rendered, the topic unfortunately remains highly relevant, and the aesthetic ideas are superb. Loved that the Book Prize highlights this gem from a small publisher.
Bacà juxtaposes the beauty and plasticity of the human brain with its capacity to base violence: Our protagonist is Davide, a neurosurgeon, who freezeBacà juxtaposes the beauty and plasticity of the human brain with its capacity to base violence: Our protagonist is Davide, a neurosurgeon, who freezes when he sees his wife and son being molested by a drunk guy - then zen master Diego intervenes. Davide is embarrassed and tries to learn from Diego, while the conflict with his noisy next door neighbor slowly escalates...
The novel ponders cowardice in the face of threat, the flight option when fight is the moral thing to do, and how to deal with the human urge to violence, but not on a societal level, but broken down to the individual - and unfortunately, only in a male context: Barbara, Davide's wife, a vegan who insisted on buying a wooden house, features as a victim who dreads her 40th birthday and laments her intellectual husband's limited sex drive - which is supposed to say what exactly about "being a real man" and "being a woman"?
Especially using problematic zen dude Diego as a catalyst, the novel intends to make a statement about combining the mind and the body, but the result is undercomplex, as violence is not purely physical or psychological, and the way the books ponders its necessity is... weird, or at least logically incoherent: My hot take is that ending is not Davide's triumph, but his ultimate defeat, because the story largely disregards the question of morality, namely WHEN violence might be justified, and to what degree. To have the theoretical ability to fight a threat does not mean that there are only the options to do nothing or go all overkill.
Middle class, heady, domesticized man cannot stand up to conflict - this set up does not automatically guarantee Fight Club quality. The pacing here is uneven, the one female character is very badly written, and the core topic isn't granted enough nuance. What a missed opportunity, the basic idea was great. ...more
This novel was first published in 1955, after Pasolini, son of a Fascist army officer, was kicked out of the Communist party for having involved threeThis novel was first published in 1955, after Pasolini, son of a Fascist army officer, was kicked out of the Communist party for having involved three teenage boys in group masturbation. Pasolini thought that he had nothing left to lose and felt a kinship to the destitute young men living in the streets of postwar Rome. "Boys Alive", his first novel, published when he was 33, aims to give a voice to this underprivileged group and illuminates the hardship of their lifestyle of criminality and prostitution.
So I would have LOVED to read the whole thing, but unfortunately, the ARC was somehow formatted incorrectly which led to missing passages, which was so annoying that I had to quit. Still, the book is super intriguing....more
This Italian autofictional true crime novel has been compared to Capote's classic In Cold Blood, and with good reason: The book tells the story of twoThis Italian autofictional true crime novel has been compared to Capote's classic In Cold Blood, and with good reason: The book tells the story of two ordinary young Romans from well off families, Manuel Foffo and Marco Prato, who after an alcohol and cocaine filled bender brutally killed Luca Varani, the adopted and much beloved son of a family of peddlers. Much like Capote, Lagioia investigates the back stories of the three men, their families, friends, and surroundings in hopes of finding an explanation for the senseless slaughter, and while the author finds many hints and clues that can be interpreted in an explanatory fashion, there is ultimately no rational explanation for the shocking crime that ended three lives: A dead victim, one suicide, one 30-year-prison sentence (this is no spoiler, as this is a well-documented and widely covered case).
Much like Capote, Lagioia himself features as a reporter / narrator, and his thoughts and feelings are reflected in the text. The city of Rome is also a major character: The narrator laments the decaying state of the rat-infested city, the poor administration, the brutality - but he also loves its vibrancy, its survival in ruins. While a minor plot focusing on a Dutch tourist expresses the frustrations of systemic injustice, the murder case in the main plotline shows how society struggles to make sense of evil.
The case of Marco (a nightlife organizer, HIV positive, suicidal and gay, possibly trans) and Manuel (a young man who blamed his father for his failures, identified as straight but also had sex with Marco) is shocking and enigmatic - and it becomes more and more mysterious the more we learn about them. After consuming alcohol and cocaine for two nights and days, they started fantasizing about rape and contacted Luca (a chronically broke mechanic and occasional prostitute) who became their murder victim. Lagioia does a great job accumulating the puzzle pieces, only to show that the motif that reveals itself is expressive, yet abstract. While the whole murder / drugs / sex story lends itself to sensationalism, the author does not fall into this trap; rather, the many voices and contradictory angles speak about the complexity of evil.
An impressive work of true crime with many philosophical undertones and an ode to Rome, despite its flaws....more
This autofictional work about a 20-year-old man who is involuntarily committed to a psych ward is Mencarelli's English-language debut: Mainly crafted This autofictional work about a 20-year-old man who is involuntarily committed to a psych ward is Mencarelli's English-language debut: Mainly crafted as a chamber play set in the hospital room where the protagonist and narrator spends seven days with five other patients, the text displays the failings of a system that is supposed to treat mental illness. Fictional Daniele hopes for salvation from his psychological state, but can the doctors achieve that?
Now the question what "normal" even means and to pose it in the context of psychiatric treatment is not exactly new, but it is still relevant - this novel might be set in 1994, but fortunately, more and more people are willing and able to discuss mental health in a non-discriminatory, constructive way, and we need literature that reflects and pushes these discussions. Mencarelli introduces troubled, deeply affecting characters, like former teacher Mario, queer Gianluca, and traumatized Giorgio, people stuck in a hellish circle of mental torment that we as readers can hardly stomach - which also goes for the narrator, who struggles with the random cruelty of the world, bouts of aggression and self-medication with drugs and alcohol.
What bothered me about the book was that it doesn't quite illuminate how the system of mental health treatments in such hospitals does not only tend to fail patients, but also the staff responsible for taking care and helping those patients - it is worth pondering what it means to have this job under the given circumstances: It is a mental health hazard in itself. The personnel needs support and better working conditions to be able to do their job properly over long periods of time.
So granted, this short novel does not make groundbreaking statements, but as someone who has spend quite some time in a psych ward (fortunately, only as a visitor), I believe that this deeply emotional novel adds to an important conversation and is crafted in a way that even people who never set foot in a mental hospital can relate.
Apparently, Netflix has turned the book into a series, and I hope they haven't transformed it into cutesy uplifting nonsense. Here's the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhJT5......more
Italian literary superstar Domenico Starnone gives us a psychological tale with a particularly twisted twist: Young teacher Pietro Vella enters a relaItalian literary superstar Domenico Starnone gives us a psychological tale with a particularly twisted twist: Young teacher Pietro Vella enters a relationship with a former student, Teresa. They fight, they sleep with other people, they push each others buttons, and finally, they make a pact: Both tell each other their darkest secrets - soon after, they split up. Pietro starts a family, he goes on to become a respected author and critic of the educational system pointing out inequalities, while Teresa rises to fame as a scientist. But their paths cross again, and especially Pietro remains haunted by the knowledge he has passed on to Teresa and what she might do with it...
Split in three parts, the first and by far longest section of the novel is told by Pietro, and Starnone finds an elegant and subtle way to reveal the way this difficult character sees the world: Apparently about the same age as the author (who was born in 1943), Pietro does not perceive the power imbalance between him and his former pupil as problematic and he is not particularly supportive of his wife who could have made a career at a university; but at the same time, he is not a classic villain, as he, the first-generation university student, is plagued by self-doubt concerning his work and relationships. Teresa, the strong, independent woman, becomes a controlling factor simply through the truth she knows about him and the fact that he fears the world might hear it.
The second part is told by Pietro's daughter Emma, so we learn her perspective on her father, and, lastly, we hear from mighty Teresa herself. This change of perspectives opens the narrative to various sorts of deceptions: In how far do the characters betray each other, and, most importantly, themselves? Who are they, as perceived by themselves, who do they want to be to the world? The whole tale remains exciting to the very last page, even if I felt let down by the ending, as stringent and smart as it might be.
A wonderful little novel that shows how people are driven by what might happen, by secrets that threaten to destroy their construct of self: "Telling a story means lying, and the better the liar, the better the storyteller."...more
Nope, the title doesn't mean "beautiful Gaul", you barbari! :-) For all the nerds out there who are into Latin, classical rhetoric, language as a poliNope, the title doesn't mean "beautiful Gaul", you barbari! :-) For all the nerds out there who are into Latin, classical rhetoric, language as a political tool and European history, Caeasar's account of the Gallic war is of course crack. Consisting of eight books (the last one written by Aulus Hirtius, Caesar's secretary), we get the Roman Emperor's viewpoint and interpretation, presented in pristine, crystal-clear sentences - this text doesn't bother with atmosphere and veils its opinions in an objective tone, an impression that is heightened by the use of the third person throughout the account. Caesar is not a historian, he's a politician who uses the annalis and commentarii form to convey his convictions.
And there's one more application for this text: It de facto divides people nolens volens into two groups depending on their reaction to this corpus delicti:
„Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres, quarum unam incolunt Belgae, aliam Aquitani, tertiam, qui ipsorum lingua Celtae, nostra Galli appellantur.“
If your reaction is simply "???", it means you missed out because you didn't learn Latin - every student of the language knows those lines. But errare human est, so you should now carpe each diem and ora et labora - learn Latin, prudentia potentia est! :-)...more
This provocative fable challenges the culture of political correctness: On a utopian, no wait, dystopian island named Miden, people live the Miden DreThis provocative fable challenges the culture of political correctness: On a utopian, no wait, dystopian island named Miden, people live the Miden Dream of hardcore mindfulness and moderation. Society is organized by commisions, and everyone has to participate in this system that sets up and controls the rules - it's no coincidence that in this tale, no one has a name. One day, "the girl" (who, more accurately, is a young university student) knocks at the door of a philosophy professor's pregnant girlfriend and tells her that two years ago, the prof has raped her, but that back then, she did not realize that she was subjected to violence. While it remains undispted that the two had an affair, the unsettling aspect of the story is that it never becomes clear whether the prof was abusing his position or whether he even raped the student (we also don't know whether the girl was a minor).
Thus starts a process of questioning and peer-reviewing the prof and his girlfriend, both of them immigrants from an unknown place in financial turmoil where people eat spaghetti (author Veronica Raimo is Italian) - and the dissection of their characters goes far beyond the issue at hand. Are they worthy of living in Miden, or will they be thrown out? Alternating between the viewpoints of the prof and his girlfriend, we witness them grappling with different memories and positions, with their fear and humiliation, and while the prof certainly makes numerous questionable remarks, the way the society depicted handles the case is also disturbing: There is no difference between fact and emotion, there is no room for nuance, and as the story moves along, the egalitarian society appears more and more alienating.
So the premise of the book is certainly daring and smart, but Raimo tends to overburden her tale with too many unconnected details about Miden that pile up until the story tumbles: The last third is just too convoluted. Still, this is a young writer to watch, because she dares to ask some uncomfortable questions and examines the ambiguous, shifting nature of human relationships....more
This is Latin nerd heaven, and Gardini's obvious passion and ethusiasm for the language, its literature and culture is sure to inspire some not-yet-LaThis is Latin nerd heaven, and Gardini's obvious passion and ethusiasm for the language, its literature and culture is sure to inspire some not-yet-Latinists to become true believers! :-) Don't expect some superficial motivational-speech-turned-book though: Gardini, a professor of comparative literature and a specialist for classical poetry, analyzes Catullus, Marcus Tullius Cicero, Ennius, Gaius Julius Caesar, Lucretius, Virgil, Tacitus, Sallust, Ovid, Livy, Seneca, Juvenal, Apuleius, Petronius, Augustine of Hippo, Propertius, and Horace. He explores specific forms like satire and themes like self-improvement, profanity, identity, sex and happiness in Latin texts and the Latin world.
A great book for everyone who loves the magic of language and its potential to disclose other worlds....more
In my quest to read more classics from all over the world, I picked up this major work from the Italian literary canon. The semi-autobiographical histIn my quest to read more classics from all over the world, I picked up this major work from the Italian literary canon. The semi-autobiographical historical novel (the English translation is called "The Leopard", although the Italian title is "The Serval") was written by a Sicilian prince who witnessed the downfall of the Italian aristocracy himself; after the Lampedusa palace was bombed in WW II, he wrote the book to battle his depression and modeled several characters after his ancestors.
The major part of the novel takes place in Sicily during the "Risorgimento", the political and social movement that consolidated different states of the Italian peninsula into the single state of the Kingdom of Italy in the 19th century. The story centers around the noble Salina family and its head, Prince Fabrizio, who experiences how the nobility slowly looses power and new political forces gain strength. While former generations of the Salina family might have been lions and leopards, Prince Fabrizio is a serval, a smaller wild cat that can purr, but not roar. Future Salinas, Fabrizio assumes, will be nothing more than little jackals and hyenas in the great arena of power, wealth, and influence.
One main thread of the narrative revolves around Tancredi, Fabrizio's nephew, who marries the beautiful and wealthy Angelica. Angelica's family stands for the new rulers of Italy: Bourgeois families that have gained political influence and acquired wealth by establishing their own business enterprises. Together, Tancredi and Angelica, old nobility and new money, are trying to climb the social ladder of the new Italy.
I have to say that while this book is certainly very well-written and extremely insightful (I am not exactly an expert when it comes to Italian history), it does not offer the kind of language and plot development that I usually enjoy: The text is an equivalent to the old splendor and exuberance of the Salina palace and lifestyle, and it is steeped in melancholy. This approach is of course perfectly adequate for the story and the points that Tomasi di Lampedusa successfully conveys, so I would feel silly to not award the novel the four stars it clearly deserves. It's just not really my cup of tea, and I won't blame the author for not conforming to my personal taste.
For what it is, this book is a great achievement....more
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