Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar (Knopf, 2024): a mid-length novel about an iranian-american author/poet in recovery who unmotivatedly becomes vaguely interested in the idea of martyrdom. the book is anchored across two main interrelated plotlines: 1) the) protagonist going to an experimental art exhibit in new york city and 2) the story of the iranian passenger airline shot down by the US in 1988 (and some stuff about the iran-iraq war). kaveh is an award winning poet first and foremost, so as expected this book is filled with a number of performatively poetic similes and metaphors wrapped up in brutally insipid, action-oriented prose. the modern-day plot loosely strings together just enough quirky plot points to legally allow for the novel to be love story by the end and, most regrettably, a "switched identities" twist that made me just, like, so fucking mad. other lowlights (can it be a lowlight if it comprises like 20% of the text?) include long passages where characters monologue fun facts at each other in a literal blank white room, dreams in which lisa simpson, donald trump, and the protagonist's mother speak to each other in shitty aphorisms, and a bunch of in-fiction excerpts of the protagonist's shitty poetry manuscript which i think are clearly just used to pad out the length with some of akbar's otherwise unpublishable dross. the only interesting parts are the elements of historical fiction, but because the book is so slight we only get like two chapters per perspective, and the scene in which our protagonist drunkenly listens to sonic youth on his ipod is enough to obliterate whatever literary value they bring. wouldn't recommend.
The Kingdom by Yoel Noorali (Bookworks UK, 2025): a short collection of moderately-lengthed stories mostly about contemporary life, work, and writing. it includes a 3-part novella about working for the NHS, some personal essay-like stories about the author's father and a trip to see the "as slow as possible" john cage organ thing in germany, and a few stories about modern-day idiots doing interestingly funny things. i enjoyed how it's satirical but in a way that rarely feels mean-spirited or bitter – it mostly focuses on the absurdity of contemporary banalities and art (both fine art and literature) with no person or type of person strung up in effigy. enjoyed the silliness of the stories' conceits brought to their natural conclusions, and the unpretentious (albeit very british, so maybe a little pretentious) style. yoel asked me to blurb it, so i sent him various statements acknowledging it as funny, witty, farcical, and engaging enough for me to want the stories to continue on. would recommend.
The Parade by Ruchel Cusk (Picador, 2025): i read maybe the first thirty pages of her outline book and thought it vaguely sucked. but i like the cover design and synopsis of this book and know she's very acclaimed so i tried her again. this consists of three(? i'm not counting again. i think it's 3 or 4. let's assume 3) sections, all but one of which each consist of alternating, more or less unrelated narratives about different artists, each referred to only as G. the section that is just a single narrative references one of the other narratives from section one, and consists of some number of annoying, elderly arts-related people talking at a restaurant. the book is very emphatic on being about gender and capitalism, specifically about how women are treated differently from men, especially in art, and how capitalism is anti-love, in very concrete and direct terms. i thought this plainness in its thesis - where both the mysteriously omniscient "We" narrator(s) and characters in the book talk openly and in agreement about the patriarchy and capitalism being generically bad - coupled with the willowy pretentiousness of the writing itself, made it frequently read like an unimaginative essay more than a novel. structurally i found it uneven despite liking each individual chapter; i had a sense that it was originally just six separate, mostly unrelated short stories with similar preoccupations that were twisted up into a 3-part book and called a novel. i liked some of the stories' imagery and settings but felt like others were mostly uninteresting. unsure i would recommend, but have been tempted to recommend it to some people i know who don't read much, for reasons related to the plot/themes and not the writing/style, so maybe i would. i don't know. i just don't know anymore. i should actually finish reading outline, huh.
The Jimmy Trilogy (My Horse for a Kingdom, Jimmy, and The Heart of the Blue Whale) by Jacques Poulin (House of Anansi Press, 1979): the first three novels (although the first is probably only like 15k words total) by a seemingly celebrated (but up until last year unknown-to-me) french canadian author, published originally through the end of the 60s. they all, ultimately, by the end, feel interrelated and function well as a set. the first is a slightly noir-y, experimental, obfuscated story about a dark and depressed cuckold who gets roped into some unexpected political action. enjoyed it for its ending, strangeness, and setting, and something that i described as having a lot of 'authority' in the voice that felt fun and engaging. didn't super enjoy its kind of pretentious, elliptical structure and its metanarrative framing (recounting of events to a psychologist). the second novel was great, albeit kind of predictable and on-the-nose by the end, but told through the perspective of an autistic-seeming young child. i enjoyed its still more unique setting, nature and domestic writing, the stylistic quirks of the narrative voice, and the general movement of the plot, as the adults in his life slowly go kind of insane. the third novel was my favorite, seemingly about a reworking of the father figure from the second novel, who is recuperating from an experimental surgery. enjoyed it for its quiet, plaintive mood, its setting, and the unexpected turns in plot. like any good piece of fiction in translation, it spends a lot of time describing the scenery in and around specific places i have never been. have recommended this set of novels to others and would recommend it to you, here, now.
Volkswagon Blues by Jacques Poulin (originally published in 1984, translated in 1988): poulin's most popular book, which won various canadian awards, from the mid-80s. it's a short road novel about an older white canadian man and younger half-native-american canadian woman going on a trip in an old volkswagon van through quebec and into america, ultimately landing in california. felt vaguely let down after having read so many of his other novels in the past few months, since so much of its content – specific settings (including a specific apartment), preoccupations, imagery – are recycled from other works (and used again in later works). also felt disappointed in the hand-wavy way in which the plot is set into motion – the book requires a larger-than-expected suspension of disbelief to function. enjoyed the emphasis on examining the history of the two countries and the second-hand tourism you experience reading about the trip, especially when encountering the nostalgia-inducing, lost-to-time artifacts of life from this time period, such as being able to lodge at a YMCA, camp for free in random places, and see historical sites without extensive monetized infrastructure and barricades. felt like the story and characters were surprisingly progressive for the time period, effectively being an examination/condemnation of the conquest of the americas and a study in white guilt, which i enjoyed. also enjoyed the general arc of the story but felt like the ending was dumb and disappointing. nothing page to page really gripped me relative to his other work; my least favorite of all his novels so far – wouldn't recommend.
The Enlightenment of Katzuo Nakamatsu by Augusto Higa Oshiro (Archipelago Press, 2012): a brief, strange little novel about an old man who was the child of Japanese immigrants to Peru and who loses his job and slowly goes insane. enjoyed the novelty (to me) of the setting, its emphasis on non-american immigrant stories, various intense scenes (both unexpectedly funny and/or severely bleak), and haphazard narrative devices (e.g. a narrator character is revealed, purposelessly, about halfway through the book). enjoyed it overall – sometimes very much so – but felt like at other times it could drag interminably, with the 'going insane period' feeling very repetitive and protracted, especially with the constant use of long, 100-comma'd descriptive sentences; regretted not keeping a tally of how many times certain words were repeatedly used throughout, including 'phosphorescent' and 'abstract,' which were probably used 10+ times each. would be curious to read more by Oshiro. would hesitantly recommend, if only for the parts that felt unexpected and exciting.
The Living god by Sam Heaps (Sarka Press, 2025): i was generally unaware of sam's writing until they recently married one of my best friends, so i purchased, read, and enjoyed this book. it's a short novel about a woman who leaves a sex cult and has a miscarriage, told over a single day but composed mostly of flashbacks to her experiences meeting the cult leader and living in the cult compound, raising the cult leader's child. enjoyed the very dark, bleak, lightly-poetic style and various moments of the 'present-day' plotline, especially in the bar. didn't enjoy the kind of confusingly-written, dramatic-feeling sex scenes. enjoyed the narrative effect of the other main characters – the cult leader and the present-day partner – remaining distant and unknowable, emphasizing the internality and trauma of the narrator/protagonist. enjoyed the theme of people who leave cults still believing in the promises of the cult, or religious life in general, in different ways. overall enjoyed the unique setting, plot and confidence in its unresolved ending. would recommend.
Portnoy's Complaint by Philip Roth (Vintage, 1969): purchased a good-looking used copy on a whim, vaguely convinced philip roth was a writer like william gass, or something. a novel told via long, repetitive rant about the narrator's jewish upbringing and obsession with sex, punctuated by an, imo, incredibly overhyped a lamer-than-i-could-have-anticipated punchline ending. enjoyed the slow transformation/reveal of the narrator from a sort of goofy comedian-like figure into a real piece of shit asshole. enjoyed the aspects of including daily minutia from the past, and the candid, silly way he discusses sex. also enjoyed some of the more comedic moments (such as his father's descriptions of being constantly constipated and the section about learning how to whack off) but found myself feeling frequently bored shortly thereafter. probably due to being an influential book in some ways, it often felt like i was reading something by david sedaris or the guy from the heavyweight podcast, which added to my feelings of it growing tiresome or sort of having a single 'trick' it deploys over and over. also felt structurally imbalanced and repetitive, with certain topics or situations revisited sort of randomly throughout, which slowed the sense of propulsion through the text. i had considered dumping it halfway through but read online, randomly via a tweet, that the ending made it all worth it, so i pressed on. but, like i mentioned, i thought the ending was stupid and did little to save the book. would not recommend.
Naomi by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki: i had read one other novel by Tanizaki – The Key – in maybe 2018, and liked it a lot. joshua hebburn recommended tanizaki to me again recently and so i bought this one used. this novel feels sort of like turn of the century japanese take on Lolita, in that it's about a man who grooms and marries a 15 year old girl and obsesses over her youth and beauty. however, this one goes in strange and sort of unexpected places, with a big emphasis on the influence of the west on japan at this time, with the character of naomi in turn being obsessed with western actresses, cinema, social dancing, western clothes, etc. enjoyed the grimy, fucked up way the narrator describes naomi as a combination daughter/lover (more scenes spent giving her horseback rides than, like, having sex), the unexpectedly multi-layered cuckolding subplot, the emphasis on new culture and technology at the time (tanizaki, in my read, was very interested photography and film, which i find interesting), and the confidence of the ending. enjoyed the sort of obvious, on-the-nose symbolism re: the entrance of western culture into the post-edo period. also enjoyed the lolita-style effect/trick of making you feel sympathetic for a horrible person in his various schemes and self-pity. felt like some of the middle/last third dragged on at times, but thought the ending chapter reinvigorated my positive feelings for the book. would recommend. thank you, josh.
The Gate by Natsume Sōseki (NYRB 2012, originally published 1910): a mid-lengthed novel about an apathetic, asocial husband and wife duo trying their best to avoid engaging with the plot. never read soseki before, and apparently this is the third in a loose trilogy, but it has been one of my favorite reads in the past year. felt very impressed by the contemporary-feeling moments of comedy. felt intrigued by the wandering, slow reveal of various plot points, including, unexpectedly, some severely bleak and depressing moments. really enjoyed the strange approach to the characters and plot, wherein the main characters are consistently asocial, bored, lazy, and disinterested in most things outside of their deep love for one another, but in an endearing, non-satirical way. feels very innovative, even today. soseki is another one of those authors who i learn about after having read most of a book or two only to learn that wikipedia describes them as one of the most influential and groundbreaking writers from japan. would highly recommend; best book i've read in the past 12 months, maybe.
Eastbound by Mayles de Kerangal (Archipelago Press, 2023): a very short, vaguely thriller novella about a russian conscript on a transiberian train trying to defect with the help of an unmoored french woman. realized i was mostly reading it for the exciting, action-oriented nature of the plot, but also enjoyed it for its elevated style, including some brief, beautiful nature writing and wry commentary (early scene of protagonist looking out a window and thinking something like "there it is: his shitty country"). felt like the ending was mostly good, except for the dumb last line. unsure i would recommend. curious to read more by her.
The Beggar Student by Osamu Dazai (New Directions, 2024): new directions has been pumping out these new translations of random dazai stories and publishing them as short, stand-alone books. this one is comedically short, maybe like five thousand words total across 70 small pages – readable in a single sitting – and bears a lot of contemporary-feeling phrasing which strike me as likely due to the translation – including words like barf and doodley-squat. it's a brief story about a loser asshole who bumps into another loser asshole and they get lunch and complain to each other and insult one another and then hang out with another loser. enjoyed the constant, rapid shifts in mood and feeling among the characters, resulting in a sort of cartoonish silliness and comedic pacing. sent several pictures of some dialogue to nathaniel duggan, as they reminded me of his tweets. i especially like the needlessly mean-spirited repartees and the breaking of the fourth wall where the narrator/author shittalks himself to the reader, which i've enjoyed also in his the flowers of buffoonery, which i think is overall a much better and more interesting book, especially since this book's ending sucks – really lame, hugely disappointing. tough break for an otherwise fun little romp. i will probably end up collecting all these little new direction books though because why not. dazai is great, in general. would overall recommend if you can find it cheap.
No comments:
Post a Comment