Book Review: South of the Border, West of the Sun

Title: South of the Border, West of the Sun
Author: Haruki Murakami
Format: Trade Paper
Publisher: Vintage
Pub Date: 1999; this edition: 2000
Read: May 2011
Source: wow, I actually…don’t remember
Why: I’ve read 2 Murakami books, both of which I loved; however, the reason I picked this one has to do with something I read…authors discussing books that stayed with them or haunted them or the ending was devastating…or something along those lines. Jeez, my memory with this book is failing like whoa.
Fulfills Challenge? Yes
Notes: N/A

Review/Thoughts:
This novel was reminiscent of Norwegian Wood for me, but I think I liked this one more. It is just as melancholy but I found that it had a more sinister feel to it, which kept me more interested in the outcome. Like all of Murakami’s work (or so it would seem), it has that dreamlike quality. Strange things happen, things go unexplained, people go unexplained.

From The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle,

Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another?

We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?

I don’t think Hajime, the main character, ever tries to convince himself that he knows Shimamoto well, but her unknowability, the absence of information surrounding the details of her life is a greater presence than any single detail about her. What Hajime doesn’t know about her could fill a book and essentially does.

The main character’s tendency to act in his own self-interest, with little regard to others, especially the women in his life, will rub some people the wrong way, but I was not bothered by it. His unlikability is a complaint I’ve seen launched at this book over and over again, and I can definitely see where people are coming from even though I don’t feel that way myself. I felt very neutral toward him (didn’t like or dislike him), but I loved the story. And despite my frustration over the lack of answers (damn you Murakamiiiiiiii *fist shake*), I still loved the book.

Final Verdict:

Book Review: The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine

Title: The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine
Author: Alina Bronsky
Format: Trade Paper
Publisher: Europa Editions
Pub Date: April 2011
Read: April 2011 (completed a half hour into May, heh)
Purchased: freebie from Europa
Why: see above
Fulfills Challenge? yes (3)
Notes: International fiction (especially work set outside Western Europe) is sort of outside my comfort zone (as in, I don’t read very much of it, I don’t gravitate toward it). I’m glad the novel was sent to me because I probably wouldn’t have picked it up otherwise. This forced me to step outside my little bubble and read something I wouldn’t normally read.

Review/Thoughts:
What struck me immediately about The Hottest Dishes was the strength of the narrator’s voice. This is a book I was not expecting to like, a book I thought I would end up reading out of obligation, but as it turns out, I was hooked right from the start. This is one of the most compelling voices I’ve come across in fiction. The narrator, Rosa, is at once hilarious and infuriating, overbearing yet sympathetic, but above all, unreliable as a narrator. This is her reality, her version of the truth, that one comes to understand she truly believes. She’s not lying to deceive the readers; in her mind, this is the way things happened. Rosa harbors any number of self-delusions, many of which are unintentionally funny. In spite of her meddlesome ways, I do believe that Rosa does want the best for her family — it’s just that she believes she’s the only person who knows what’s best. Everyone else is an idiot in her eyes. And you know what? As someone who often slips into this mindset, I totally get her (I like to think I’m not overbearing per se as I don’t really care what people do with their lives, but if it’s something that affects me and my work, I definitely fall into the dammit do I have to do everything around here? category because I expect things a certain way). Love her or hate her (or more likely, something in between), you have to admit, she feels like a real person, her character is that well-drawn and distinct, and I’m definitely looking forward to reading Alina Bronsky’s other novel, Broken Glass Park.

Final Verdict:

Book Review: In Praise of the Stepmother

Title: In Praise of the Stepmother
Author: Mario Vargas Llosa
Format: Hardcover
Publisher: Farrar Straus & Giroux
Pub Date: 1990
Read: Feb 2011
Purchased: no, borrowed from the library
Why: I’ve been sort of interested in reading this — the library seemed like a low-risk way to approach it
Fulfills Challenge? Yes.
Notes: This is my first Vargas Llosa novel, but I promise I was interested in it before he won the Nobel. If I were reading him for that reason, I probably would’ve gone with something more political and “important”

Review/Thoughts:
I am so glad I chose to borrow this instead of buying it. First, a disclaimer: I am not bothered by consensual incest. I feel the need to put that out there immediately because many people who had a problem with this book seem to have a problem with the incest aspect. That is not why I disliked the book. A bigger issue than the stepmother/stepchild for me is the age difference (the child in question is a mere 10 or 11 years old). As it turns out however (major spoiler alert!), it is the child who is the manipulative little shit, and though as an adult, the stepmother should not have behaved as she did, the child set her up.

Vargas Llosa is clearly an excellent writer — his prose sings and he makes mundane tasks sound like poetry. As such, I’d definitely be willing to give some of his other works a chance. I was not in love with this novel because so much of it was taken up by 1) the daily ritual of washing, 2) these fantasies that place the main characters inside famous paintings. The latter was not wholly uninteresting and Vargas Llosa’s ability to inject telling information into both is remarkable but honestly, I was more interested in the actual plot. One moment the stepmother is resisting her stepson’s advances, the next she’s in bed with him with no real in between or explanation as to why she finally acquiesced. I would have loved to see some of the scenes between her and the child and her and her husband fleshed out more. The “fleshing out” if it can even be called that occurs in the fantasies incorporating the paintings, but I found this to be more frustrating than anything else.

It’s not a bad book, and I wouldn’t really recommend against it, but I would probably issue a warning/disclaimer first.

Final Verdict:

Book Review: French Leave

Title: French Leave
Author: Anna Gavalda
Format: Trade Paper (galley)
Publisher: Europa Editions
Pub Date: May 2011
Read: Feb 2011
Purchased: Europa sent me a galley copy when I expressed excitement and interest in reading it
Why: It seemed exactly the kind of story I would like
Fulfills Challenge? Yes.
Notes: This is my first Europa book.

Review/Thoughts:
This was a very slim novel, just over 100 pages. The page count on the site says 140+. I keep trying to figure out if there was something missing from the copy I received, but I can’t tell. I know formatting, font size, etc. can make a difference but I can’t figure out where those additional pages are coming from when the font size actually seems about the same as a typical Europa publication. With that in mind, I’m going to review it anyway, and I’ll update you all later if there is in fact something significant missing from mine.

French Leave, as the English title suggests, is about three siblings who leave a relative’s wedding to meet up with their absentee sibling for the weekend. Abandoning their responsibilities for just a short time, the four meet up to talk, laugh, and reminisce. What I love about French Leave is that it is a deceptively simple story about four siblings just hanging out, but really, this is a story about nostalgia and about the intangible bonds of brother- and sisterhood. Underneath all the whimsy and lighthearted banter, is a bit of sadness, that this moment is coming to an end, that it must come to an end, that these four will inevitably grow up, if not now, then very soon. Their meeting is a last hurrah! of sorts, and that little fact becomes increasingly clear as the story progresses.

This was the first story ever that made me wish I had a sibling or two, or at least that these four were my siblings. Their relationship, the unspoken bonds between them, these things would benice to have sometimes. But I don’t and that’s OK. It’s enough to have capable writers such as Gavalda to allow me to experience these things vicariously, reminding me why I love reading so much.

Final Verdict:

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