Reading Well: On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

Posted on August 26, 2022 by Daniel (@MKNN)

There are two competing reactions to Ocean Vuong‘s 2019 memoir, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.

The first is that Vuong is a stunning writer, as in one whose sentences and paragraphs can literally stun you, making you look up from the book and stare into space at the beauty and power of what you just read. This is true of their poetry, and, as we find here, true of their prose as well. It’s a brilliant and beautiful book, an achievement made more special by the trauma and emotional pain that forms most of its subject matter.

The other reaction is that, at the end of the day, there isn’t a ton here. The book essentially outlines his first homosexual experiences and the deep chasm of pain that separates (and unites) him and his mother and grandmother. There is little of his emergence as a poet, and little insight into how his art emerged.

Which is, of course, fine: at the end of the day, it only means I will eagerly await his second memoir. In the meantime, the language of this and of his poetry will remain with me.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The Kingdom of Copper & The Empire of Gold by S.A. Chakraborty

Posted on August 11, 2022 by Daniel (@MKNN)

I enjoyed S.A. Chakraborty‘s opening novel of this trilogy, The City of Brass, and the second (The Kingdom of Copper; 2019) and third (The Empire of Gold; 2020) were satisfyingly more of the same.

There’s not a lot to say that wasn’t said in the original review: this is swords and sorcery fluff, a romantic page-turner with enough interesting local flavor to keep it constantly engaging.

Recommended if that sounds appealing; if not, I would not suggest that this be your first foray into the genre.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The Familiars by Stacey Halls

Posted on July 13, 2022 by Daniel (@MKNN)

{It has been over 8 months since I published one of these. Unsure why, but I do, at the end of the day, like having a record of what I’ve read. So over the next few months, I’ll catch up, probably one every other week or so, and then move forward “in real time” from there.}

Stacey Halls‘ The Familiars (2019) is a fictionalized account of the events surrounding the trial and punishment of The Pendle Witches (only click if you want spoilers).

It focuses on two women, the wealthy Fleetwood Shuttleworth and the somewhat mysterious healer, Alice Grey. I am unsure if it is better to be familiar with the history of witch persecution in England when reading the novel or not–as someone who is familiar, I found the portrayal of the times, including the motivations of King James I and the political maneuverings of the wealthy in his service to be nicely done.

But I think if I were ignorant of the Pendle trials, I would have enjoyed the novel even more, as Halls creates an engrossing world, and one where Alice’s fate feels always in the balance, and subject to powers far beyond her ability to control.

There is nothing very fantastical about the book, although a few encounters with Alice are sufficiently under explained to leave you guessing as to the extent of her abilities. Instead, this would appeal if the notion of historical, female-centered fiction is compelling for you.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: How Long ‘Til Black Future Month by N.K. Jemisin

Posted on October 30, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

How Long ‘Til Black Future Month (2018) collects short stories from N.K. Jemisin‘s career dating back roughly twenty years, meaning they stretch before she was one of the faces of contemporary imaginative fiction.

It’s a fun collection to read, perhaps the introduction most of all, where Jemisin details some of the challenges she faced in the field. Challenges is too vague a term: imaginative fiction has, for decades, been oppressively resistant to anything but CIS white male perspectives (making the accomplishments of Octavia Butler, Samuel Delaney, and countless others all the more remarkable). This resistance exists at all levels: publishers, marketers, agents, writing classes. Everywhere.

Jemisin sketches her experience with great insight, and quite aware of how lucky she has been to be “selected” as a trailblazer. More interesting, for me, is the development of the stories (which are presented chronologically), which not only show her growth as a writer, but also her growing willingness to include a wider diversity of characters and topics.

Of special note is Stone Hunger, the first story set in the world that became the Broken Earth trilogy.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The Book of Night Women by Marlon James

Posted on October 7, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

With The Book of Night Women (2009), we’ve now gone through Marlon James‘ entire corpus (see John Crow’s Devil, A Brief History of Seven Killings, and Black Leopard, Red Wolf).

The Book of Night Women is the most explicit, direct, and difficult of them all. Parts of Black Leopard, Red Wolf are its equal along those dimensions, but are cloaked in a layer of parable that eases the reader along. The Book of Night Women is not an easy read, and at times not a pleasant read, but it is a marvelous read.

The novel centers on resistance. Specifically, acts of resistance by enslaved people on a Jamaican plantation focused on the protagonist, who is a remarkably complex character, consistently undermining her own behavior and, yes, resisting the offers of support available to her. That is a fantastic authorial choice: she is a comprised character in a horrific situation, constantly exposing herself to risk and harm above and beyond what is necessary.

But that raises an immediate question: is there anything beyond being enslaved? Once another has total agency over your body, your life, what is the meaning of additional risk? James’ answer is ambiguous: his descriptions of whippings and beatings are monstrous and impactful, and carry–for me–perhaps the most honest depictions of the depravity and arbitrary nature of plantation violence I’ve encountered.

If you’re up for it, highly recommended. Especially if you’re looking for something to deepen your understanding of methodologies of resistance, and their cost.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The Illness Lesson by Clare Beams

Posted on September 3, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

The Illness Lesson (2020) is Clare Beams‘ debut novel. It is set in the final quarter of the nineteenth century in small-town New England.

It’s a complex novel to summarize in typical Reading Well terms: at the most abstract, The Illness Lesson is about the role of women in early America. But that’s not a topic explicit in the plot or the characters themselves: instead, it is about a private school for women started by a free-thinker of the time. His daughter is a teacher at the school, and is ostensibly the protagonist of the tale.

There is also a bit of mystic symbolism at play: a flock of scarlet birds appear throughout the novel, and play a key role in several plot movements. The birds are–at least thematically–tied to a mysterious illness that afflicts the students, placing the entire enterprise in jeopardy, and pulling together a prior failed experiment along much the same lines.

It’s a very engaging book, and Beams’ descriptions are often stunning in their detail and impact. An aura of mystery surrounds the book at many levels, from the history of the characters to the manifestation and resolution of the illness, to the writing project itself: Beams is clearly saying something about feminism, about the constraints placed upon women by seemingly (somewhat?) well-intentioned men, and about the nature of agency itself.

The fact she offers no clear declaration on these question is, in my mind, a strength of her writing. Recommended.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty

Posted on June 17, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

I stumbled across a list–I believe in The Washington Post–of fantasy novels written by women with an Arabic / Middle Eastern / Indian influence (and shame on the Post for lumping all of that together in a single Orientalist vision, but at the same time, there are so few candidates that perhaps it was through necessity).

In any case, The City of Brass (2017) by S.A. Chakraborty is by far the most successful of the ones I’ve read so far–I even purchased the rest of the trilogy to read at some point. This is traditional high fantasy: magical items and smoldering glances and a deadly threat to the very existence of the world and all that. It is set in an alternate, Earth-like universe, with the cultures of Arabia, Persia, and India dominant, with a layer of magical beings, both good and evil, locked in a timeless struggle.

It works. I mean, the smoldering glances are a bit much from time to time (romance and sex tend to be the Achilles’ heel of fantasy writing–perhaps, all writing), but the rest is a rollicking good read, full of memorable set-pieces, interesting takes on things like the nature of Djinns and the source of true magic.

Recommended as a different setting for a page-turning escape.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Reading Well: Memorial by Bryan Washington

Posted on June 1, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Bryan Washington‘s second novel, Memorial (2020) is set in the same Houston as his debut, Lot (parts of Memorial are set in Tokyo as well). Less an ensemble piece than Lot, Memorial focuses on a single relationship between two young men, one Japanese, one African-American.

Their immediate families are central to the narrative as well, but the novel is really about the formation, unraveling, and re-emergence of their relationship. Like Lot, Memorial is focused on life at the margins, and the struggles of those who inhabit them. One of the men is a chef, the other works at an after-school care center. Their relationship is told lovingly, with details that are impactful.

Memorial is a book about absence: the first thing one of the men does is leave, heading back to Japan to see his dying father; his mother comes the other way, and her relationship with her son’s lover is gently and warmly–if a little predictably–presented. Both men are searching for family that is not present, and the central question of the narrative seems to be if they will be able to find something that passes for that in each other.

It’s a stirring and evocative story, and whereas Lot was attractive partially through its Houstonian setting, Memorial is far more universal in its appeal.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reading Well: The Shadow King by Maaza Mengiste

Posted on May 13, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Maaza Mengiste‘s second novel, The Shadow King (2019), illuminates an oft-overlooked period in Ethiopian history, the occupation by Italian forces under Mussolini as part of fascist military activity in Africa in World War II. Mengiste tells this story through an even more hidden voice, exploring the role of women in Ethiopia’s military resistance.

It’s quite a success, managing to navigate moments of tenderness and moments of violence and abuse with equal grace. There is a ton of doubling in The Shadow King, both in items and people, and the narrative focus is on two women, separated by class but united by their involvement and dedication to the freedom of their country. They are also united in the challenges of navigating an occasionally brutal patriarchy, a constant threat to their survival, but also their ability to contribute to the defense of their country.

There is a much else here: the relationship of photography to history is a primary theme, there is a Greek chorus of sorts that offers oblique commentary on the unfolding narrative, and there are the intelligently considered musings of Ethiopia’s emperor, Haile Selassie, as he considers how to regain the country he has lost.

Mengiste’s prose reads like a novelist emerging into her full voice–there is creativity in the language and the structure both, and a quiet, powerful beauty in many of her descriptions. I found the ending problematic, feeling one of the colonial protagonists “got off too easy,” but that is a relatively minor quibble in an immersive and impactful reading experience.

If your taste runs to the strict genre of “historical fiction” (whatever that is), this may be too fictional for you; but if you like your history tightly wound around “literary fiction” (whatever that is), it is very strongly recommended.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Reading Well: The Day the Sun Died by Yan Lianke

Posted on May 6, 2021 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Published in 2015 and translated into English in 2018, The Day the Sun Died is the story of what happens to village in China that is plunged into everlasting night and widespread, violent insomnia.

Those afflicted initially wander aimlessly, with several wandering into irrigation ditches and drowning. As the night goes on, their behavior becomes more violent, leading them to maraud through the town, breaking into and ransacking stores, starting fights, and attacking others at the slightest imagined or real provocation. The story is told through the eyes of a young teenage boy whose family runs a store selling funerary accessories on the main thoroughfare.

The family sits at a series of complex intersections: the insomnia is initially a boon for business; they have historically been at least remotely involved in a scam whereby villagers were cremated instead of properly buried; and his father has been illegally saving the oil from the cremated corpses.

Considerations of life, of death, and of what in-between states may exist (sleep, somnambulism, insomnia, insanity) are paramount in the novel, but the story is really that of the teenage boy navigating a night full of unknown circumstances, threat, a brief romantic encounter, and not a little terror.

The author also makes an appearance–or, at least, a character who is a writer named Yan Lianke does. (According to the translator’s note, this is relatively common in Lianke’s fiction.)

The Day the Sun Died is an intellectually intriguing novel, and the question of what–if anything–it says about contemporary China persists long after reading, as do many of the individual scenes.

Posted in Culture | Tagged , , | Leave a comment