Posted 27 July 2008 - 08:57 PM
Here are the three books I am currently working through:
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In this remarkable collection of linguistically acrobatic fictions, Alexandra Chasin employs forms as diverse as cryptograms and sentence diagrams to display a prodigious talent that is visual as well as verbal.
In one story, the words are arrayed on the page like troops, embodying the xenophobic image of invading armies that animates the narrative. Another story incorporates personal ads, and another is organized alphabetically, while yet another leaves sentences unfinished. A number of Chasin's stories take metafictional turns, calling attention to the process of writing itself. The last piece in the collection plays with genre distinctions, including an index of first lines and a general index. From the highly political and well-wrought montage about September 11th to a sexual romp that proceeds by punning on philosophers' names, Chasin's work playfully explores the curious and often contradictory qualities of language. Treating love and loss, sex, desire, and war -- among other things -- and set in New York, New England, California, Paris, and Morocco, these tales are narrated by men and women, old and young, gay, straight, and bisexual; one narrator is not a person at all, but a work of art. Each of these deft, playful, and sometimes anarchic fictions is different from the others, yet all are the unmistakable offspring of the same wildly inventive imagination. Chasin's diction is precise and purposeful, yet it retains a colloquialism that enables a dialogue with the reader. Humorous and heart-wrenching, often all at once, Kissed By offers the sort of acute insight evoked through the interplay of empathy and intellect.
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According to this tongue-in-cheek travel guide, Toulouse-Lautrec, with the aid of one M. Menottes, a benefactor and fellow brothel-goer, opened a little shop in Brussels called Lautrec Handbags. Virginia Woolf, in an effort to find a place for her feminist squad to convene, established a cafe called A Room of One's Own-after her not-yet-published book-which, after her death, was renamed Virginia Woolf's Restaurant and went from specializing in vegetarian foods for the literati to pushing burger specials to tourists. And the proof? Axelrod, a professor of English and comparative literature at Chapman University and the author of The Poetics of Novels, includes black-and-white photographs of each business named for these celebrities of Western civilization, plus an array of footnotes and a general air of breezy certainty. "After the initial publishing of Don Quixote, Cervantes fell into a kind of post-partum depression," he writes, and goes on to explain how Cervantes opened an eponymous institute in Orange, Calif., specializing in "psychological problems associated with male mid-life crisis." Some 40-odd other little tales, none over two pages-concerning businesses established by Hemingway (the titular garage), Camus (cognac), Racine (Danish Kringles™), Joyce (pub), Van Gogh (potatoes), Bukowski (jewelry) and Shakespeare (monofilaments)-make up the rest of the volume. It's a sly, original idea carried, perhaps, a bit too far: the volume offers good browsable bits rather than an absorbing narrative. But it amuses-and may even momentarily confuse the credulous looking for signs of La Comédie humaine outside Balzac's Balls in Newport Beach, Calif.
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"Beauty invited the Beast for a stroll on a crystal path strewn with hollow silver hearts that were being stirred up by stiff gusts of wind like clouds of dust: and so everything began."
And so begins F/32, Eurudice's award-winning first novel about Ela (a pseudonym meaning orgasm). The sight of Ela stops all hearts. Ela is an expert in love. No matter how many people love her, she daily inspires more. She spends half her life avoiding the people who love her, and the other half making them love her. She is mind blowing.
A mock-quest for self-understanding and unification, F/32 lures the reader into a landscape of sexual alienation, continually interrupted by gags, dreams, mirror reflections, flashbacks, and scenes from Manhattan street life. It is a wild, eccentric, Rabelaisian romp through most forms of amorous excess. But it is also a troubling tale orbiting around a public sexual assault on the streets of Manhattan. Between the poles of desire and butchery the novel and Ela sail, the awed reader going along for one of the most dazzling rides in recent American fiction.