Eratta
I’ve been reading a lot recently - here are some updates:
Last week I finished Hal Duncan’s Ink (the sequel to Vellum). Ink very kindly begins by explaining some of the events from Vellum, which was extremely helpful. This is characteristic of the difference between the two books - if Vellum is visionary yet (sometimes) incomprehensible, Ink ties things together so that readers can apprehend the deeper patterns connecting the beautiful fragments. Although Ink is more readable than Vellum, it is somewhat less compelling - I still love Duncan’s hallucinogenic juxtaposition of synchronicities, but he succumbs to self-indulgency in this book, particularly in the ending, which is a bit of a fizzle. Worth reading if you like (or love!) Duncan’s style - and if you can enjoy portrayals of interesting characters having cool moments of doing awesome stuff - but those with little taste for avant-garde experimentations may find this a sluggish read.
For dissertation purposes, I recently finished Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. What strikes me most about this book is how it puts a revolutionary face on a deeply reactionary sentiment. At first, this story seems to have countercultural sympathies - in a totalitarian future where people burn books instead of reading them, someone must break free from social conventions and open his mind to the possibilities of fiction! Great stuff, right? But then, we soon discover that the reason for all the book-burning in the first place is because America has been overrun with minorities, and it has become politically-incorrect to print anything that might “offend” anyone with different views or opinions from oneself. In the end, Bradbury is writing a rant against what he can only see as the rise of political correctness and the fragmentation of American “unity” into the balkanization of special interest. In my mind, this represents a failure to see that “minority” voices (particularly in the 1950s) might have something valuable to offer, particularly in the 1950s when this book is written.
The book lefty a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t think that Bradbury actually has a soul. He’s like some kind of handsome doppelganger who SEEMS to have a soul until you get close, and then you can smell the rot. =) I remember being similarly unimpressed with the reactionary sentiments in Something Wicked This Way Comes.
I’m currently teaching T.H. White’s The Once and Future King in my Intro to Fiction class, and I love it! I first encountered this book when I was in high school, and it is one of the earliest places where I learned to read for symbols, images, and themes. It’s great to be able to return to it now as a teacher and share some of the things I learned with my students. We just finished the first part (The Sword and the Stone), and there’s so much STUFF to talk about that I can hardly fit it all into the class.
I find that teaching fiction at this level, I tend to be less focused on “critical” readings (the kind of thing I do most in my research) and more focused on appreciating the density of imagination that the author has created. In the class, we read to get a sense of the depth of what the author is trying to say or do with his story and technique, rather than making larger critical observations about what is accomplished. I think that’s fine - students at this level (typically sophomore nonmajors) don’t typically catch a lot of subtlety when they read, and the purpose of this class is to improve reading, writing, and critical thinking skills - so it feels right to focus on getting them to read more attentively and to appreciate the density and complexity of what’s happening in the prose in front of them!
One thought that strikes me - White is very a kind of shaman at heart. Not in the sense that he was initiated in any Native American tradition (he’s actually very paternalistic about American Indians), but because he has an amazing capacity to imagine experience from alternative points of view. Arthur’s entire education (he is transformed into a series of different animals) is a powerful shamanic initiation if I’ve ever seen one. And Merlyn has been eating far too many peyote buttons for his own good (he experiences time backwards! I mean come on!)
More later…
Last week I finished Hal Duncan’s Ink (the sequel to Vellum). Ink very kindly begins by explaining some of the events from Vellum, which was extremely helpful. This is characteristic of the difference between the two books - if Vellum is visionary yet (sometimes) incomprehensible, Ink ties things together so that readers can apprehend the deeper patterns connecting the beautiful fragments. Although Ink is more readable than Vellum, it is somewhat less compelling - I still love Duncan’s hallucinogenic juxtaposition of synchronicities, but he succumbs to self-indulgency in this book, particularly in the ending, which is a bit of a fizzle. Worth reading if you like (or love!) Duncan’s style - and if you can enjoy portrayals of interesting characters having cool moments of doing awesome stuff - but those with little taste for avant-garde experimentations may find this a sluggish read.
For dissertation purposes, I recently finished Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. What strikes me most about this book is how it puts a revolutionary face on a deeply reactionary sentiment. At first, this story seems to have countercultural sympathies - in a totalitarian future where people burn books instead of reading them, someone must break free from social conventions and open his mind to the possibilities of fiction! Great stuff, right? But then, we soon discover that the reason for all the book-burning in the first place is because America has been overrun with minorities, and it has become politically-incorrect to print anything that might “offend” anyone with different views or opinions from oneself. In the end, Bradbury is writing a rant against what he can only see as the rise of political correctness and the fragmentation of American “unity” into the balkanization of special interest. In my mind, this represents a failure to see that “minority” voices (particularly in the 1950s) might have something valuable to offer, particularly in the 1950s when this book is written.
The book lefty a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t think that Bradbury actually has a soul. He’s like some kind of handsome doppelganger who SEEMS to have a soul until you get close, and then you can smell the rot. =) I remember being similarly unimpressed with the reactionary sentiments in Something Wicked This Way Comes.
I’m currently teaching T.H. White’s The Once and Future King in my Intro to Fiction class, and I love it! I first encountered this book when I was in high school, and it is one of the earliest places where I learned to read for symbols, images, and themes. It’s great to be able to return to it now as a teacher and share some of the things I learned with my students. We just finished the first part (The Sword and the Stone), and there’s so much STUFF to talk about that I can hardly fit it all into the class.
I find that teaching fiction at this level, I tend to be less focused on “critical” readings (the kind of thing I do most in my research) and more focused on appreciating the density of imagination that the author has created. In the class, we read to get a sense of the depth of what the author is trying to say or do with his story and technique, rather than making larger critical observations about what is accomplished. I think that’s fine - students at this level (typically sophomore nonmajors) don’t typically catch a lot of subtlety when they read, and the purpose of this class is to improve reading, writing, and critical thinking skills - so it feels right to focus on getting them to read more attentively and to appreciate the density and complexity of what’s happening in the prose in front of them!
One thought that strikes me - White is very a kind of shaman at heart. Not in the sense that he was initiated in any Native American tradition (he’s actually very paternalistic about American Indians), but because he has an amazing capacity to imagine experience from alternative points of view. Arthur’s entire education (he is transformed into a series of different animals) is a powerful shamanic initiation if I’ve ever seen one. And Merlyn has been eating far too many peyote buttons for his own good (he experiences time backwards! I mean come on!)
More later…