Tag Archives: books

CCCP@CCLaP

Today at CCLaP, I review Taschen’s acclaimed Cosmic Communist Constructions Photographed by Frederic Chaubin. The book explores Soviet architecture from the late ’60s to the early ’90s, showing an uncharacteristic exuberance and ethnic individualism not usually associated with the stereotypical Soviet architecture.

Robertson’s Book of Firsts: Who did what for the first time, by Patrick Robertson

The first coins, the first hamburger, the first military motor vehicle.  These are but a sampling of Robertson’s Book of Firsts.  Researched and compiled by Patrick Robertson as a culmination of a lifelong passion, the book aims to chronicle not invention, but innovation.  This means a look at social and technological development and some surprising entries.  Robertson approaches this collection of firsts from a unique position.  A former government employee and a former chairman of the Ephemera Society, he also owns the largest private collection of vintage magazines in Britain.  Firsts are ephemeral, since once a first is achieved, social and technological change will prompt more firsts to occur.  Just look at the developments of the cell phone and the demographic make-up of the United States Supreme Court.

The alphabetically arranged articles vary in length.  For example, the article on blood transfusion covers nearly two full pages.  To break it down, there is the first blood transfusion done on June 12, 1667 by Jean-Baptiste Denys, the personal physician to Louis XIV, for “a boy of fifteen suffering from a severe fever.”  The first U.S. blood transfusion took place in 1795 by Dr. Philip Physick.  The first panel of blood donors occurred in 1921, being four volunteers “from the Camberwell Division of the London Branch of the British Red Cross Society.”  The Red Cross established the first blood donor panel in the United States in August 1937 in Augusta, Georgia.  In 1931 the first blood bank was established by Prof. Sergei Yudin “at the Sklifosovsky Institute, Moscow’s central emergency service hospital,” but Bernard Fantus “coined the term” in 1937 for Cook County Hospital’s centralized blood storage depot.  Finally, the first pre-natal blood transfusion was performed by Prof. George Green and Sir William Liley in Auckland, New Zealand on September 20, 1963.

The Book of Firsts is chock-full of such information.  The first antique automobile movement happened on July 12, 1925, celebrating the 25th anniversary of the Allgemeiner Schnaufer-Club (“Tin Lizzy Club”) in Munich, Germany.  The year 1623 saw the first publication of a hymn book containing original matter by George Wither, although the first hymn book in a vernacular tongue was “published in Prague by Severin for the Hussites of Bohemia on 13 January 1501.”  The first naval vessels to be equipped with radio-telephone apparatus were the USS Virginia and the USS Connecticut in 1907.  The lists go on and on, from the first legal abortion to the first women’s track and field events.

Whether reading a single entry with all developments chronicled or searching for a specific “first,” The Book of Firsts will captivate and infuriate readers.  Expect to have your pre-conceptions about certain “firsts” refuted.  As with any book of this kind, it is subject to the winds of change.  The entry on gay marriage has quickly become obsolete, the last sub-entry on U.S. gay marriage ending with the passage of Proposition 8.  But that is hardly a demerit in terms of the sheer wealth of information and entertaining factoids one can harvest from this book, whether casually browsing the pages or capturing a “first” for research purposes.  This is a good book to have on the bookshelf next to the dictionary, thesaurus, Schott’s Miscellany, and the Meaning of Tingo.

 

CCLaP Fridays: On Being Human: An Introduction

My introductory essay to my themed essay series, “On Being Human” has been posted at CCLaP.

Introducing CCLaP Fridays

I’m proud to a new feature, CCLaP Fridays.  I recently became involved as a writer for the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography.  Every other Friday I will post on their website, alternating between general book reviews and themed reviews.

The general reviews will focus on fiction and non-fiction books published in the last 24 months.  My themed reviews focus on the question, “What does it mean to be human?”  I will be looking at attempts to answer that question through books, TV shows, movies, and role-playing games.  Everything from Warhammer 40K’s Space Marines, Iain Banks’s Culture, Samuel Beckett’s Trilogy, and a Jim Thompson hard-boiled novel will be analyzed.  (This will dovetail nicely into my more in-depth analyses of Warhammer 40K and Battlestar Galactica/Caprica on Coffee is for Closers.)

It will be a unique privilege to write for CCLaP, since I’ve been an avid reader of their reviews and essays for years.

As always, I will post notifications on this blog to let you know when my reviews and essays appear.

Shadows Walking, by Douglas R. Skopp

“To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these… these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.” – The Joker, The Dark Knight (2008)

Taking its title from a passage in Macbeth, Shadows Walking takes the reader into the nightmarish descent of modern German history.  Skopp traces the lives of two men – Johann Brenner, an ardent nationalist, and Philipp Stein, a Jew – throughout their military and medical careers.  Brenner and Stein endure the hardships of the First World War and the economic uncertainties of the Weimar Republic.  The rise of the Nazis causes their friendship to fracture.

The novel begins in the postapocalyptic wasteland of Nuremburg with Brenner, under an alias, working as a janitor in the Palace of Justice.  The Doctors’ Trial is beginning and Brenner listens to the horrific testimony of a victim.  The testimony concerns castrations done by SS doctors at concentration camps.  With the starvation, destruction, and desperation outside, the witness’s testimony hits the reader like a vicious sternum punch.  The graphic descriptions bring home the horrors of the Holocaust.

Even amidst the hellish experience of the Holocaust, the medical experiments performed by Mengele and his associates stands unique in its horror and obscenity.  The novel achieves brilliance in its accretion of details and experiences in the lives of the two main characters.  The common question is: How could Germany, which has such a rich tradition of arts, sciences, and philosophy, create such a barbaric and evil regime?  Skopp tries to answer that question through indirection and burying himself in the minds of Brenner and Stein.  The two are seen as “ordinary” Germans, not as famous political and historical figures.  Through the years, we see both enduring “death by inches”, to use another phrase from Shakespeare.  Compromise, desperation, and stubbornness contribute to the choices they make.

The book has passages, illuminating the inner thoughts of Brenner and Stein that lend the narrative a haunting plausibility.  The anthropomorphizing of German Culture in philosophical discourse combined with the medicalization of this discourse to create the idea that Germany, following the First World War, is sick and corrupt.  Philipp Stein sees the remedy in positive eugenics, although he slowly backs off the idea when he sees it done in everyday practice.  Johann Brenner also sees a eugenics-based solution, but resentment, economic desperation, and death push him towards the National Socialists.  Brenner isn’t one to question authority figures and his personal circumstances lead him to find a scapegoat for his (and the nation’s) problems.

Skopp’s self-published novel weaves a Balzackian tale that perfectly captures the ideas and lives of a specific time and place.  Skopp’s background as a history professor merges with his desire to tell a compelling story.  He also creates a historically authentic narrative that forces the reader to question the validity of his or her beliefs, yet, at the same time, not doing it in a manner that comes across as preachy or heavy-handed.  The novel aims to explore the questions we must face with the deeds perpetrated by the Third Reich, but it has the audacity to point back at the reader.  In the dark corners of our being, although we usually don’t admit as such, either to each other or to ourselves, we are capable of perpetrating criminal atrocities against each other.  Like a boiling frog, we don’t always realize the rationalizations and self-justifications we construct to distance ourselves from actions of criminality and evil.  Shadows Walking illustrates we only need a little push and we will devour each other.

An Interview with Marc Schuster

What inspired you to write The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Super Girl?

I was working on a paper in graduate school when I started reading a pair of books called The Steel Drug and Cocaine Changes. As the titles suggest, they were about cocaine, and they included case studies of people who had used and abused cocaine. Some of them were very compelling, but due to the nature of the books, the stories were also very fragmentary. With The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl I wanted to flesh out some of the details in a fictionalized forum, to try to come up with a more fully imagined version of the scraps I had read and started to piece together.

Tell us about your blog, Small Press Reviews, and the appeal of reviewing the works of small presses.

I started Small Press Reviews in November of 2007 after sitting in on a discussion of small presses at a local writers’ conference. One of the speakers was an author named Curtis Smith. I bought his book The Species Crown and loved it. Between his talk and the book, I was sold on small presses. Part of the appeal is that I feel like small press readers and writers share a strong sense of community. I had lunch with a small press author named Christian TeBordo a few weeks ago, and though we’d never really met before—aside from running into each other once or twice when we both taught at Temple University—we found that we shared a common language, so to speak, as we dropped names of small presses we really admire like Featherproof and Atticus Books, as well as small press books we both enjoyed like The Universe in Miniature in Miniature by Patrick Somerville. Being part of the small press scene is a little bit like belonging to an exclusive club, but one that’s—ironically, I guess—open to anyone who’s interested in joining. All you need to do is read a few books and join the conversation.

What’s the premise of Don DeLillo, Jean Baudrillard, and the Consumer Conundrum? What is the “Consumer Conundrum” and how is it reflected in the works of DeLillo, an American novelist, and Baudrillard, a French social theorist?

The book basically looks at the problem of consumerism in the western world. Early in his career, Jean Baudrillard wrote a book called The System of Objects in which he argued that humans have surrounded themselves with commodities which no longer serve any real purpose other than to signal status. This observation in itself is nothing new, but Baudrillard’s argument was that by surrounding ourselves with objects, we’ve taken on the status of objects ourselves—that our sense of self-worth is bound up in the constellations of objects we arrange around ourselves as signs of value. This is a bit of an oversimplification of his argument, but the conundrum I talk about in the book is that of figuring out how to overcome the inertia of commodification, how to stop being objects and, instead, become subjects, become human again. Baudrillard offered a lot of commentary on this predicament over the course of his career and eventually decided that it really couldn’t be done. Don DeLillo, on the other hand offers a more hopeful view of our species’ potential to regain its humanity—through art, though language, through doubting the logic of accumulation that surrounds us. It’s been a long time since I wrote that book. I’m a little fuzzy on the details.

Is there a link between capitalism’s need for gain (profits, acquisition, expansion, accumulation) and an addict’s need for increased dosages just “to maintain”?  (“Wonder Mom” seemed to touch on this indirectly, albeit from the perspective of a Drug Morality Tale.  Audrey’s inevitable crash late in the novel and the global economic cataclysm aren’t too dissimilar.  Or am I reading too much into it?)

No, you’re not reading too much into at all! In fact, a part of me always hoped that readers would draw a similar parallel. Look at the publishing industry, for example. John B. Thompson wrote a book a couple of years ago called Merchants of Culture, and in it he talks about the publishing industry’s need to make 10% more money in any given year than they did in the previous year. That’s why you always see a glut of crappy, gimmicky books just before the holiday season. The publishers are gambling that people who don’t generally read might buy these books as gifts, that they’ll be good for a laugh or will look good on a shelf in someone’s house somewhere. Yet another reason, I suppose, to favor small presses over big conglomerates. The same thing, as you note, happens to Audrey as she continues to fall deeper and deeper into her addiction. She’s hollowing out her soul as she strives for that extra 10% that will help her keep her head above water, at least until she needs her next hit. I always had consumerism in mind when I was working on that book.

Between your novels, your blog, and your teaching, what’s your work schedule like?  Do you ever feel like one area is being neglected while you tend to another?

Hah! Yes! All the time! I teach five courses with an average enrollment of about twenty students each. On any given weekend, I’m grading between forty and sixty papers. I love teaching, but that much grading really takes a toll. Needless to say, I don’t get much time for writing during the school year, but I do try to squeeze it in here and there. On one hand, I wish I had more time to write, but I also wouldn’t want to give up teaching. Not just because of the steady paycheck and benefits, but because I really feel like I come alive in front of a classroom—sharing ideas with students, helping them learn to express their ideas and participate in the wider dialogue not just of academia but of culture at large. Even so, I frequently wish I had more time to write. And blogging? I liken it to punk rock. When I’m working on a novel or an essay or a short story, I’m obsessing over craft and getting the content and form of the piece just right, like Brian Wilson taking months to record “Good Vibrations.” But with blogging, it’s more like the Ramones recording their first album in a day. Get it done, and get it out there. Share it with the world, warts and all.

What projects are you working on these days?

My second novel comes out in May. It’s called The Grievers. I should be getting galley copies this week, so I’ll be proofreading and making notes for any minor changes I want to make before it goes to print. Otherwise, I’m mainly gathering scraps in a notebook and hoping they eventually coalesce into something somewhere down the line.

Who are your favorite authors (novelists and/or academics)?

I like anyone who bridges the gap between “ivory tower” academic discourse and a more down to earth yet intelligent public discourse. There’s a lot in the news lately about the hollowing out of the middle class. I think there’s also been a gutting of the ability to have an intelligent conversation in the United States. At one end, there are academics who speak and write in impenetrable and, frankly, boring prose, and at the other end there’s the bombast and vitriol of the shouting heads on TV and radio, not to mention the histrionics of anyone involved in reality TV. It’s tough for regular people like you and me to have a thoughtful, intelligent, public conversation about the arts or culture or even politics anymore, but it is possible. Authors like Jonathan Lethem and Steve Almond do it in their nonfiction, and a lot of bloggers are doing it, too. Anyone who raises the bar on public discourse is okay in my book.

But if you’re looking for names, I love pretty much everything by Kurt Vonnegut. I was also on a George Saunders kick for a while, hot on the heels of a Chuck Palahniuk kick, a Neil Gaiman kick, and my perennial Philip K. Dick kick. Over the summer, I read Chistopher Moore’s Fool and told all of my friends to read it. More recently, I’ve been reading a lot of short stories. Robin Black’s If I Loved You, I Would Tell You This is amazing, and I really enjoyed Steve Almond’s God Bless America. I also liked Don DeLillo’s The Angel Esmerelda. If I’m not teaching or writing, I’m reading.

Republic of Words: the Atlantic Monthly and Its Writers, 1857 – 1925, by Susan Goodman

The history of the Atlantic Monthly is also the history of America.  Susan Goodman’s Republic of Words: the Atlantic Monthly and Its Writers, 1857 – 1925, traces the intellectual and editorial history of the magazine.  Conceived by luminaries including Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., Harriet Beecher Stowe, Ralph Waldo Emerson, John Greenleaf Whittier, and James Russell Lowell, the Atlantic began with an adamant pro-Union perspective.  Lowell, the first editor, brought together numerous contributors associated with the Abolition and Transcendentalist movements.

Goodman excels at bringing American history to life, charting the course of the magazine and the nation through the Civil War, Reconstruction, the Gilded Age, and the First World War.  Throughout the book a cavalcade of the famous passes before the reader.  These include novelists, humorists, poets, environmentalists, journalists, and philosophers.  With biographies of Edith Wharton (an Atlantic contributor) and William Dean Howells (an Atlantic editor), Goodman has a firm grasp on her subject matter.  The history of America proceeds either in lock step or in counterpoint with the history of the Atlantic Monthly.  The magazine undergoes periodic transformations with each successive editor.  As an example, Howells slowly changed the perspective of the Atlantic from a more East Coast, Boston-area, Harvard-educated milieu to one that looked westward.

The book ends in the Roaring Twenties, the Atlantic battered but enduring in its commitment to act as a purveyor of culture.  Two insurgent forces threatened its mission of mass appeal, the Crisis, the militant African-American magazine helmed by W.E.B. du Bois and the elitist New Yorker.

A final note, Republic of Words sports a playful cover by the artist Jonathan Wolstenholme.  Wolstenholme’s book-centric illustrations, like Republic of Words, will delight anyone with a passion for literature and American history.

 

What I’m Reading 2012 and Other Business

What I’m Reading 2012

Overview: I’m currently reading five books.  Each poses certain challenges (in some cases, self-imposed challenges) to me as a reader, reviewer, critic, historian, and aesthete.  While New Year’s Resolutions get broken seconds after they’re uttered, these challenges will form an informal backbone to my reading schedule.  As it stands, I want to increase the frequency of my blog posts from bimonthly to weekly.  (The same goes for my other blog, Coffee is for Closers.)  The positive responses from readers has really inspired me to do more.

As you’ll see with these challenges, I want to “raise the bar” with the Driftless Area Review’s content.

The Book: The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court, by Bob Woodward and Scott Armstrong

The Challenge: Woodward and Armstrong’s book chronicles the Burger Supreme Court from 1969 to 1975.  The Supreme Court decided on many significant cases, including the Pentagon Papers, Roe v Wade, and others.  Reading The Brethren has inspired me to write a multibook, deep-reading-style review, focusing on the Supreme Court.  For this review, I will also read The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court, by Jeffrey Toobin, and Scorpions: The Battles and Triumphs of FDR’s Great Supreme Court Justices, by Noah Feldman.

As a historian, the review will pose a great challenge.  The nice thing about the three titles is how each reflects off each other.  The Brethren follows the decisions of Hugo Black and William O. Douglas, two long-lasting Justices and FDR appointments.  Black died in 1971, paving the way for President Nixon to nominate and appoint William Rehnquist.  The Nine examines the Court during the Dubya Years, including the consequences of Rehnquist’s death, Rehnquist having then been elevated from Justice to Chief Justice.  The three books reveal the slow movement from a liberal to a conservative agenda.  The differing genres will be interesting to evaluate, since Brethren and Nine are works of investigative journalism and Scorpions is popular history.  It should prove to be an interesting project.

The Book: Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume 2, by Karl Marx

The Challenge: Currently back-burnered for more compelling books.  Unfortunately, some sequels are worse than the originals.  Unlike Marx’s first volume, Volume 2 is a slow, tedious, bone-dry work, more akin to an economics textbook.  In addition, Friedrich Engels edited the present volume following Marx’s death.  The work exists as an amalgamation of several of Marx’s notebooks.  While the work presents relevant material on the operations of political economy, it is almost too dull to read.  The challenge will involve trying to read it without falling asleep.

A further challenge involves me writing more essays in my series Essays on Capital.  I want to continue this series, since the first volume presented a rich seam to mine.

The Book: Shadows Walking, by Douglas R. Skopp

The Challenge: Douglas Skopp’s self-published novel is a revelation, a well-written exploration of two doctor’s lives in Nazi Germany.  I will review the novel on its own, but it will become part of a larger project.  This project involves reading three massive, controversial novels about the Third Reich.  Two specifically focus on the Eastern Front: Europe Central, by William Vollmann, and The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell.  The third novel – The Tunnel, by William Gass – is technically a “university novel,” but the subject matter associated with the protagonist feeds into the works of Vollmann, Littell, and Skopp.

The final challenge will be psychological, since these four novels survey the darkest aspects of modern history.

The Book: Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution, by Simon Schama

The Challenge: This is the second history by Simon Schama that I’ve read.  I previously read Rembrandt’s Eyes, his magisterial double biography of Peter Paul Rubens and Rembrandt von Rijk.  As with Rembrandt’s Eyes, Citizens is an epic account, mixing biography, pop culture history, visual culture, politics, foreign policy, and tax law into a compelling page-turner.

French history is a particular enthusiasm of mine.  The challenge will be tempering this enthusiasm with the disinterested eye of a historian and bringing to bear my previous knowledge in French literature, historiography, and pop culture.

Blog Feature Revival

This year will see the revival of blog features on long hiatus.  The first will be the return of The Art of Reviewing.  French theorist Roland Barthes and prolific Gnostic Bardolator Harold Bloom are the first two on the docket.

The limited series 5000 Pages of Kissinger will conclude with my review of Years of Renewal, Kissinger’s final volume of his memoirs.  I have the skeleton of a review in place that I wrote several months ago.  The Arab Spring of 2011 and the nascent Occupy movement have made it a challenge to contextualize Kissinger’s work without seeming immediately outdated.  Both Arab Spring and Occupy have overturned the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm of supporting US-friendly free market dictatorships and absolutist monarchies in the Middle East.  These movements, along with the Tea Party movement and Ron Paul’s Small Government Neo-Isolationism, present opportunities for the government that acts in our name (if you’re a US reader of this blog) to reassess its global strategy, foreign policy interests, and free market cheerleading.

For decades, the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm had operated as a given within the global foreign policy architecture.  That given is no longer true and no longer equipped to deal with the Middle Eastern calls for freedom and the end of economic inequality.  As of this writing, the Arab Spring has become the symbol for freedom and liberation from oppression.  The end-result of these protests and coups is still unwritten.

“The Best 80s Sci Fi and Fantasy Films” will continue with an installment on Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Other Business

While I would like to this blog a major part of my life, creative projects and personal obligations inevitably get in the way.  These include a random assortment of personal and professional business.

I am getting married in early October and planning a wedding is a time-consuming endeavor.

On the reviewing front, I have a small pile of books from the Permanent Press I want to get around to reading.  I also have a couple novels from Archipelago Books I want to read and review.

My job is second shift and a temporary assignment.  Like many, many others who have been displaced, abandoned, or simply eliminated from the free market economy, I have a very real and very pressing goal of achieving full-time employment.  (The kind of employment associated with health benefits and paid time off.)  Working second shift has made it more challenging to post reviews, but with any challenge, it can be overcome.  On that note, if any blog readers like what they see and want to hire me as a writer, I’m all ears.  My contact information is in the Submitting Materials section.

Finally, I am working on the last round of revisions for a science fiction thriller.  I am planning to resubmit it to a small publisher who showed interest in the work.  In my query letter, I described my story as “The Sopranos meet Dune.”  I’m making this creative project a priority, since I am nearly finished with the revisions.  Overall, I have been pleased, since the revisions have strengthened the novel.

After Lyletown, by K.C. Frederick

A game of tennis with a good friend signifies that Alan Ripley has achieved “the good life.”  It is 1988 and Alan works as a Boston area real estate lawyer, has a loving wife working in academia, and a growing son.  The idealistic picture of late twentieth century domestic bliss fractures when Rory Dekker enters Alan’s life.  Alan met Rory twenty years ago as the intense fires of Sixties idealism curdled into resignation and rage.  With Nixon ascendant, Alan and his friends decide to “make a difference.”

Inspired by a seductive ideologue named Lily Culp and aided by a couple ex-cons, the tiny cadre of revolutionaries decide to participate in a heist.  The heist involved raiding a gun store, stealing the weapons, and distributing them to blacks.  It all seemed to make sense, at least on paper.  Then the day Alan should have participated in this nascent revolutionary action, he becomes sick and has to bow out.  The Lyletown Six became the Lyletown Five.  In the resulting melee, one person died, the others fled, and Rory ended up serving hard time.  Now Rory has returned into Alan’s life and Alan doesn’t know why.  Blackmail?  Revenge?  The reunion of friends possesses an ominous tinge.

After Lyletown by K.C. Frederick is a meticulously constructed narrative that Alan and Rory dealing with the consequences from the events of the Sixties.  On the surface, the premise is reminiscent of a thriller.  The novel itself operates on a much smaller, much more psychological level.  It is a novel of interiors.  Much is given over to Alan thinking and rethinking his decisions in the past and calculating the degree of his culpability.  The superficial portrait of the upper middle class real estate lawyer is only part of the picture.  Between the fires of Sixties idealism and thriving in Reagan’s America, Alan suffered one failed marriage and a dead-ended literary career.  He then reinvented himself as a law student, divorced his first wife Martha, and remarrying an attractive literary scholar named Julia.

Because of Rory’s silence in prison, Alan thinks he owes the ex-con something.  This is exacerbated by Alan’s realization that he could have lost everything if Rory chose to expose Alan’s part in the botched heist.  To further complicate matters, Alan chose to not reveal this part of his life to Julia.

What follows is a series of meetings between Alan and Rory.  Alan mired in self-guilt, Rory noticeably vague on his current situation.  Rory says he needs money, but doesn’t elaborate.  Alan, with lawyerly rationalizations, decides best not to ask, since too much knowledge would make him more culpable, especially if Rory’s plans for the money aren’t exactly legal.

Some passages in the novel seem a bit too on-point, like when Alan visits an elderly Polish woman who is his client in an eviction case.  The woman worked for the Polish resistance and lives on a modest pension.  The woman’s work in the resistance seems like an obvious mirror to Alan’s work with the Lyletown Five.  On the other hand, Julia’s father fought in the Second World War but refused to talk about it.  The war left him taciturn and tortured on a deep psychological level.  The omnipresence of war creates these peculiar ripple effects.  Since the story is set in the Late 80s/Early 90s, the reader could project the future for Tommy and how the future War on Terror will effect him.

The novel is an exploration of how war, prison, and affluence effect individuals, told at an unhurried pace.  The writing shimmers with descriptions of Innisfree, the Vermont cabin Julia’s father built, and Boston bars (dive bars and trendy Yuppie havens alike).  Not a narrative of spectacular confrontations but one that builds menace with a slow intensity and allows for the exploration of human interrelationships damaged by bad personal and foreign policy decisions.

What I Hate: from A to Z, by Roz Chast

The world is a scary place.  Roz Chast latest book, What I Hate: from A to Z, is her alphabetic exploration of her panaphobic panoply of paranoia-inducing pictures.  Her fears run the gamut of the familiar (heights, getting lost, and nightmares) to the unusual (spontaneous human combustion, balloons, and Jello 1-2-3).  Each entry has a short introduction opposite the illustrated page.  There are single panels and other pages cluttered with details.  In one introduction, she explains her fear of rabies originating in children’s literature.  She writes, “On an ideal planet, children’s books wouldn’t be censored for references to sex, but for illness.”  The opposite page shows a psychotic dog staring at the reader.  A man in the background offers tepid advice, “His bark is worse than his bite.”  A woman says, “He loves people.”

For those who enjoy a bit of schadenfreude, What I Hate is a quick fun read.  While Chast espouses an especially grim outlook, one needn’t possess her omnipresent anxieties to take pleasure in the witty cartoons.  One should handle the book carefully, since one might get a nasty paper cut or have one of its sharp edges poke an eye out.  That is, if one survives the trip to the local bookstore without getting hit by a bus, abducted by aliens, or trampled by zebras.