Reading Words: 1Q84

1Q84
Haruki Murakami, 2011

I've never read anything by Murakami before, so I don't know if the sprawling, sometimes tedious narrative including minor characters that seem to contribute very little to the plot, repetitiveness indicating a lack of confidence in readers' attention, or fixation on breasts are trademarks of this author's style. I do know that as a writer, a reader, and a lover of parallel universes, these complaints weren't enough to ruin the story for me.  If you're any of the three, I'd suggest you give the book a try.

But what was most interesting to me as I read the book was the ever apparent truth that it was a translation.  Every time I reached a passage that didn't flow properly or a sentence that didn't quite make sense, I questioned whether it was Murakami's writing that made it so or simply a lack of proper English equivalent.  Most fascinating to me was the use of, "I wonder."  Used repeatedly as a kind of substitute (I assume) for "Hmm," or "I don't know," the phrase really grew on me by the end of the 900+ pages. When a character said something another character didn't understand or couldn't answer, he didn't shrug it off with, "I don't know."  He left it open for future discussion with, "I wonder."  I'm sure it's a result of the translator choosing the words closest to the actual Japanese expression, but I found myself asking whether our real life plots might go further if we switched to that phrase in our own conversations.  I wonder.

Reading Words: Half Empty

Half Empty
David Rakoff, 2010

Continuing on my nonfiction kick (which I have never, ever been on before, by the way), I started reading this book with the kind of glee only a true pessimist could appreciate.  "Hahaha," I thought to myself--or maybe I said it out loud--"This is going to be good."  And it was.  Rakoff's sardonic attitude toward his life's trials (some silly and some grave, regardless of your attitude) is extremely comforting to people like me, and people with a perpetually rosy outlook on life probably couldn't help finding some of it at least slightly amusing as well.

Unfortunately, I couldn't finish the book because I noticed on Saturday that it was overdue at the library and you can't renew overdue books.  I could have kept it till Monday, but then I would owe 50 cents vs. the 25 I owed already, and I had just paid off my last library debt.  It wasn't the money, you understand, but really just the principle of the thing, so I skimmed the second half and dejectedly parted with the book.

So I'll leave you with my favorite quote from the pages I can still read on Amazon: "Pessimists are born, true, but they can also be made."  Delightful.

Reading Words: Committed

Committed
Elizabeth Gilbert, 2010

I read the book that came before this one, Eat, Pray, Love.  I thought there was something horribly wrong with me when I wasn't terribly enamored with either the writing (it was good, but it didn't blow me away) or the story (I just couldn't get past the idea that the author was being paid to write about these soul-discovering experiences, and that had to somehow make them less authentic, right?  Or else I was just jealous that she got to travel around the world in the name of research...).

So I'm happy to report that this book I enjoyed immensely.  In fact, I think this informal study on the institution of marriage (based on the author's extensive research on the subject) should be required reading for anyone contemplating marriage--or for anyone who doesn't even want to think about getting married.  (I have been both of these people at various times in my life.)  It's refreshing to read musings about marriage from someone who isn't completely blinded by white dresses and flower girls, and yet at the same time does manage to cheerlead a little bit for the practice, despite her best efforts.

One of the most interesting things, to me, is the book's subtitle.  In the version I read, the original hardback, the cover proclaims, "A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage."  Yet the paperback cover has erased that message and instead tells us the book is, simply, "A Love Story."  I guess the initial subtitle wasn't uplifting enough for all those girls who couldn't possibly understand how someone could be skeptical about getting that ring and living happily ever after.  Personally, I like the original better.

An Undeniable Way With Words

Few writers (if any) have ever used made-up words as fluently as Dr. Seuss. For that reason and many others--including a little book called The Lorax, my personal favorite--I was delighted to see that I hadn't yet read all the doctor had prescribed.

Turns out there's a brand new collection of rarely read stories (available today, but sold out on Amazon till Friday).  I won't even try to pretend I'm just buying it for my nephew.

Reading Words: You Don't Love This Man

You Don't Love This Man
Dan DeWeese, 2011

I always cringe a little when I hear, "Write what you know," because I feel like there are probably many wonderful stories we're missing out on about the things people don't know.  But "Read what you know"--that I can get behind.  Words mean so much more to me when they feel like they were written to me, or about someone just like me.

So why, when I read this book, did I feel the whole time that it was baring my own soul?  I'm not a middle-aged man.  I didn't get a girl pregnant at age 17.  My daughter isn't getting married to my old friend.  Yet somehow, I felt the slow, numbing thought process of a man who is looking back on his life and wondering not how he got to where he is today, but whether another outcome could have been possible.

I know why, of course.  It's because good writers can make you feel however they want to; in this case, I'm a divorced father who isn't sure he's doing a very good job at his life.  Depressing concept, sure, but a pretty enjoyable read.