New books!
I am ashamed. I let nearly two weeks pass since the release of the new Haruki Murakami novel before buying it. I blame myself. I fell asleep at the wheel. Last year, I had my purchase of Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman delayed because the local store got their shipment a day late, and this year, I didn't even remember to mark the release date on my calendar.
Worse, I didn't even get past page two last night before my reading lamp burned out, and I found myself without any replacement bulbs. I'll have to buy some more and then catch up tonight.
My reading queue now:
After Dark by Haruki Murakami
Word on the street is that Murakami is the favorite for the next Nobel Prize for Literature. While it's too late for any new fans to claim to have known him before he was cool, that doesn't mean he's not a bandwagon worth jumping on. While his plots vary from the nostaligic and slightly sappy (e.g. Norwegian Wood, my first Murakami book, and South of the Border, West of the Sun) to the outright bizarre (e.g. Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World and The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, which is generally considered his best book), Murakami really shines when you consider his tone and the atmosphere of his stories. It's hard to read one without feeling like you're sitting in an upscale jazzy cafe, sipping a mixed drink and enjoying the fact that it's Friday. His characters all give off an air of mixed isolation and confidence. They might lack direction, but they're really good at what they're not doing. They lack friends, but they know how to treat people right when they're around. They don't see themselves as special, but they all have fantastic stories that suck the reader in.
The best way to read a Murakami book is to go through a few chapters in the mid to late afternoon on a weekend and then go out to a social district. Every person you see will look like he or she has a compelling tale hiding behind the champaigne glass. Every song you hear over a PA system will be a memory to someone, if not to you. And every step you take will be another line in the tale of your life, which is in all likelihood more exciting than you, from you own limited perspective, might think it is.
The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo
I've heard nothing but good things about this book, but I find myself a little hesitant after reading some of the interviews with the author. I'm all about the power of positive thinking and all, and I can have some respect for the mildly pantheist views to which Coehlo apparently adheres. Still, I'm a little skittish at how much he sounds like one of those self-help gurus, at least in the Beliefnet interview (already a red flag) in the back of my edition. The story itself sounds good, but if Murakami's work is like a strangely comforting acid trip (don't do drugs, kids--I only use drugs as metaphors, except for Excedrin), I worry that Coehlo will be like an unhappy reminder of being forced to go to church in my youth.
The Broom of the System by David Foster Wallace
I've actually read a couple of chapters of this one so far, so while I don't have a good feel for the author yet, I do know that I like the cut of his jib. Wallace's style is distinctly modern and mostly lacking in some of the annoying habits that turn me off to other popular writers who target my demographic, like Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. I like the main character so far, but had I been writing the story instead of Wallace, Eleanor would have ended up with a far more aesthetically pleasing last name than Beadsman (and her middle name just reminds me of ex-Boeing CEO Harry Stonecipher).
TBofS is good stuff so far, and I have told myself that if I like it, I'll move on to Wallace's most popular work, Infinite Jest, when I finish.
Worse, I didn't even get past page two last night before my reading lamp burned out, and I found myself without any replacement bulbs. I'll have to buy some more and then catch up tonight.
My reading queue now:
After Dark by Haruki Murakami
Word on the street is that Murakami is the favorite for the next Nobel Prize for Literature. While it's too late for any new fans to claim to have known him before he was cool, that doesn't mean he's not a bandwagon worth jumping on. While his plots vary from the nostaligic and slightly sappy (e.g. Norwegian Wood, my first Murakami book, and South of the Border, West of the Sun) to the outright bizarre (e.g. Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World and The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, which is generally considered his best book), Murakami really shines when you consider his tone and the atmosphere of his stories. It's hard to read one without feeling like you're sitting in an upscale jazzy cafe, sipping a mixed drink and enjoying the fact that it's Friday. His characters all give off an air of mixed isolation and confidence. They might lack direction, but they're really good at what they're not doing. They lack friends, but they know how to treat people right when they're around. They don't see themselves as special, but they all have fantastic stories that suck the reader in.
The best way to read a Murakami book is to go through a few chapters in the mid to late afternoon on a weekend and then go out to a social district. Every person you see will look like he or she has a compelling tale hiding behind the champaigne glass. Every song you hear over a PA system will be a memory to someone, if not to you. And every step you take will be another line in the tale of your life, which is in all likelihood more exciting than you, from you own limited perspective, might think it is.
The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo
I've heard nothing but good things about this book, but I find myself a little hesitant after reading some of the interviews with the author. I'm all about the power of positive thinking and all, and I can have some respect for the mildly pantheist views to which Coehlo apparently adheres. Still, I'm a little skittish at how much he sounds like one of those self-help gurus, at least in the Beliefnet interview (already a red flag) in the back of my edition. The story itself sounds good, but if Murakami's work is like a strangely comforting acid trip (don't do drugs, kids--I only use drugs as metaphors, except for Excedrin), I worry that Coehlo will be like an unhappy reminder of being forced to go to church in my youth.
The Broom of the System by David Foster Wallace
I've actually read a couple of chapters of this one so far, so while I don't have a good feel for the author yet, I do know that I like the cut of his jib. Wallace's style is distinctly modern and mostly lacking in some of the annoying habits that turn me off to other popular writers who target my demographic, like Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. I like the main character so far, but had I been writing the story instead of Wallace, Eleanor would have ended up with a far more aesthetically pleasing last name than Beadsman (and her middle name just reminds me of ex-Boeing CEO Harry Stonecipher).
TBofS is good stuff so far, and I have told myself that if I like it, I'll move on to Wallace's most popular work, Infinite Jest, when I finish.