Warm weather, you have been missed. Thank you for making reading so much more enjoyable.
Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl
Sputnik Sweetheart by haruki Murakami
Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott
Memories of My Melancholy Whores by Gabriel García Márquez
You know what blows my mind more than the book's unique concept? The fact that it was originally published in 1985 and doesn't feel a day outdated. Well, okay, there is a Duran Duran reference. But otherwise, there's none of the cringe-worthy science fiction tropes that make you roll your eyes back in disgust. This story is all balls and it will mess with your head. It is every bit as extraordinary and captivating as you have heard.
The only gripe I have is the pretentious literary name dropping that Murakami is so fond of endowing on his characters. One might be led to think all of Japan's middle class actively reads Balzac and discusses William Gibson's ideas on encrypted cranial data storage. Come on Haruki, let the working man enjoy a Michael Bay film instead of Dostoevsky.
Otherwise, it's a novel with extremely few flaws. Between alternating narrators, indelible characters, heaps of suspense, and sprinklings of heavy but believable sci-fi elements tossed in for good measure, there's not much to dislike. The author has a knack for witty dialogue, poetic depictions of setting, and pushing the plot forward in a reasonable pace while still allowing the reader stop every once and a while to take in his surroundings. It's a beautiful book, plain and simple.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory:Don't hate me, please. I read it for the first time as a middle-aged old father of two. I've never seen the films, either. I therefore don't have the nostalgic wonder attached to it as I should. It's a finely tuned, well constructed children's story that I was mildly entertained by. Dahl's books are read the world over and I can certainly see why, but I get the feeling that I'm not the target audience.
Sputnike Sweetheart: I'm obviously not the first to notice Murakami's pattern of character development. Here's my attempt:
1) Protagonist: common working class guy likes whiskey, jazz/classical music, and European literature.
2) female love interest: younger, quirky, out of his league
3) sanctity of marriage? what's that?
4) personality disorder of choice: dissociation
5) cats
For Sputnik Sweetheart, the overt sexuality implied by the cover is a bit misleading; there's way more romance/shameless sex in South of the Border, West of the Sun. There is a questionable abundance of infidelity in this unrequited love story, so don't fret dirty birdy.
Murakami is skilled at what he does, but so far I've only seen the one-trick pony routine done three times. It's a great routine, don't get me wrong, but that the formula is growing thin. Sputnik Sweetheart is my third Haruki Murakami novel and so far my least favorite. It's not enough to make me avoid him altogether, but enough to ask for some distance.
Flatland: This is a strange one. A square tells the reader about life in Flatland, a two dimensional world where women are straight lines, circles are priests and all social life is based on the number of sides each polygon has. Together we visit a dimension below (Lineland) and one above (Spaceland).
It's the most fun you can have with geometry, for sure. The premise and style hold up amazingly well for being published in 1884. The novella wrestles with theology, heterodoxy, and spacial reasoning. It's an amazement that it was published when it was, but as it stands, it's a solid science (slash mathematics) fiction story.
Memories of My Melancholy Whores: I urge you not to be turned off by this tiny gem's vulgar title. Don't let the dirty-old-man premise scare you away from the brilliance that this book holds inside. The prose is brusque but painfully touching. The characters are deplorable but compassionate. The morose setting is captivating in its droll acceptance of debauchery.
The book's length is noticeably short but not a page is wasted. You will be hard pressed to find a more beautiful way to write about such an execrable situation. Marquez was in his late 70s when he wrote this story. It's almost sinful that more people haven't read this.
I say with full confidence that Memories of My Melancholy Whores is a perfect novella in almost every way possible.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Reading Dump - March
Thank you, March. You brought me a new job, warmer weather, and good books.
- South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami
- Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
- The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury
- The Plagiarist by Hugh Howey
South of the Border: What we have here is unremarkable erotica pressed neatly between a sandwich of plot holes and unconvincing character development. Although the main character is unlikable in almost every way imaginable, he is keenly relatable to two key demographics: teenage boys and men in their late thirties; as both are prone to irrational sexual proclivities.
Since I'm rapidly approaching the later demographic, I reluctantly found myself nodding in agreement to not a few of Hajime's plights. I still think if he were my buddy, though, I'd have already punched him in the balls on at least three occasions. He's a whiny, hopeless romantic who doesn't deserve any of the good fortune that he has been given. He's simply a selfish, despicable man who lives a respectable-looking life on the surface. His interactions with those around him only (unrealistically) reinforce his unpleasant sense of entitlement.
Like others who finished the book, I discovered the beauty of the story only after I finished. I can encourage those considering to pick up this lesser-known title from Murakami by saying that you will probably simultaneously hate and moderately like it; that is, if your thing is vicariously living through inappropriate sexual trysts of a boring middle-age man who is both a lousy husband but a passably decent father. If you are in this bizarre category, then this book will modestly fit the bill.
Cat's Cradle: Vonnegut's timeless writing sets the reader for an inadvertent romp through questionable theology, mass destruction, and island dictatorship. What’s not to like? The chapters are bite-sized, the plot is absurdly charming, the characters are plentiful, and the prose is exquisite. Miraculously, even the ending comes full circle in a sardonic kind of way. <i>Cat’s Cradle</i> is satisfyingly predictable Vonnegut prose. It's really no wonder why people like myself are still discovering it relevant and worthwhile fifty years after its initial publication.
Busy, busy, busy.
The Illustrated Man: I’m an oddball, apparently. I stayed with the book till the end but I was overall unimpressed. I pushed myself through it like it was homework, which is a shame, because there are some decent short stories in this collection, but otherwise most of them feel dated.
Most consider Ray Bradbury to be among the classic early sci-writers. Fahrenheit 451 is clearly an amazing piece worthy of its classic status. The Illustrated Man often comes up as a recommended follow-up. I can’t say I see why, though. Most of the writing betrays its age; some even feel laughably antiquated. Also, there’s not so much of an “illustrated” theme so much as a “rocket” theme. So. Many. Rockets. The supposed overarching “tattoo” theme is really found nowhere else but in the introduction.
This collection did almost nothing for me. For instance, the first story, “The Veldt”, which is supposed to be the strongest of the bunch, didn't affect me the way it did for other people. Like most of the stories, I questioned the almost outrageously improbable scientific basis on which the story’s climax is based on. I suppose if I had read it as a kid, I’d be full of nostalgic affection, but as it is I can’t help but see gaping holes in the science. Spoilers: digital lions devouring parents? Rain on Venus? Rockets rockets rockets? Really?
Imagine a withering paperback sci-fi rotting on the shelves begging to be put out of its misery. Once a pioneering gem it be treasured, it now just feels like uninspired pseudo-science hardly worth the pulp it’s printed on. That, unfortunately, is my image of The Illustrated Man. If the first story doesn't do anything for you, put it down and pat yourself on the back for being conscious enough to leave well enough alone.
- South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami
- Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
- The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury
- The Plagiarist by Hugh Howey
South of the Border: What we have here is unremarkable erotica pressed neatly between a sandwich of plot holes and unconvincing character development. Although the main character is unlikable in almost every way imaginable, he is keenly relatable to two key demographics: teenage boys and men in their late thirties; as both are prone to irrational sexual proclivities.
Since I'm rapidly approaching the later demographic, I reluctantly found myself nodding in agreement to not a few of Hajime's plights. I still think if he were my buddy, though, I'd have already punched him in the balls on at least three occasions. He's a whiny, hopeless romantic who doesn't deserve any of the good fortune that he has been given. He's simply a selfish, despicable man who lives a respectable-looking life on the surface. His interactions with those around him only (unrealistically) reinforce his unpleasant sense of entitlement.
Like others who finished the book, I discovered the beauty of the story only after I finished. I can encourage those considering to pick up this lesser-known title from Murakami by saying that you will probably simultaneously hate and moderately like it; that is, if your thing is vicariously living through inappropriate sexual trysts of a boring middle-age man who is both a lousy husband but a passably decent father. If you are in this bizarre category, then this book will modestly fit the bill.
Cat's Cradle: Vonnegut's timeless writing sets the reader for an inadvertent romp through questionable theology, mass destruction, and island dictatorship. What’s not to like? The chapters are bite-sized, the plot is absurdly charming, the characters are plentiful, and the prose is exquisite. Miraculously, even the ending comes full circle in a sardonic kind of way. <i>Cat’s Cradle</i> is satisfyingly predictable Vonnegut prose. It's really no wonder why people like myself are still discovering it relevant and worthwhile fifty years after its initial publication.
Busy, busy, busy.
The Illustrated Man: I’m an oddball, apparently. I stayed with the book till the end but I was overall unimpressed. I pushed myself through it like it was homework, which is a shame, because there are some decent short stories in this collection, but otherwise most of them feel dated.
Most consider Ray Bradbury to be among the classic early sci-writers. Fahrenheit 451 is clearly an amazing piece worthy of its classic status. The Illustrated Man often comes up as a recommended follow-up. I can’t say I see why, though. Most of the writing betrays its age; some even feel laughably antiquated. Also, there’s not so much of an “illustrated” theme so much as a “rocket” theme. So. Many. Rockets. The supposed overarching “tattoo” theme is really found nowhere else but in the introduction.
This collection did almost nothing for me. For instance, the first story, “The Veldt”, which is supposed to be the strongest of the bunch, didn't affect me the way it did for other people. Like most of the stories, I questioned the almost outrageously improbable scientific basis on which the story’s climax is based on. I suppose if I had read it as a kid, I’d be full of nostalgic affection, but as it is I can’t help but see gaping holes in the science. Spoilers: digital lions devouring parents? Rain on Venus? Rockets rockets rockets? Really?
Imagine a withering paperback sci-fi rotting on the shelves begging to be put out of its misery. Once a pioneering gem it be treasured, it now just feels like uninspired pseudo-science hardly worth the pulp it’s printed on. That, unfortunately, is my image of The Illustrated Man. If the first story doesn't do anything for you, put it down and pat yourself on the back for being conscious enough to leave well enough alone.
The Plagiarist: Hugh Howey is doing well for himself. Between his immensely popular Wool series and small nuggets of gold like The Plagiarist, avid readers looking for the next big writer but understandably wary of self-published hacks can rest easy; Hugh Howey knows what the fuck he's doing.
The Plagiarist is situated in that tricky genre valley between speculative fiction and mainstream fiction - the Hollywood-friendly kind that usually finds its way made into a successful film adaptation. At 58 pages, it's confidently short but masterfully written. Succinct and original, easily recommended without reservations.
The Plagiarist is situated in that tricky genre valley between speculative fiction and mainstream fiction - the Hollywood-friendly kind that usually finds its way made into a successful film adaptation. At 58 pages, it's confidently short but masterfully written. Succinct and original, easily recommended without reservations.
Monday, March 11, 2013
What do you do with your time?
Random:
I've been thinking lately about how I spend my time. It kind of baffles me, really, now that I think about it. I mean, I wake up around five thirty during the week. I go to work, which takes about forty minutes between walking, taking a bus, and taking a subway. After work I come home and dinner with the family. I have private lessons after that and finish after nine at night. I usually collapse an hour later. I also manage to read a a few books per month and do graduate school online whenever time makes itself available.
This seems pretty busy. There's not really any time penciled in for my wife or kids, except for the weekends. Even then, I usually have lessons Saturday mornings. I wonder what my daily life will look like a year from now? Ten years from now? Will there ever be a time for me to just walk into a coffee shop, order a coffee and just read casually? Pick up kids from daycare and take them to the park? Take my wife to dinner?
Is all of this normal? I suppose it could always be worse; I do have a job, after all. That's always a good thing. Just kind of amazed to discover that this might just be considered "normal" for a thirty year old guy with kids.
I've been thinking lately about how I spend my time. It kind of baffles me, really, now that I think about it. I mean, I wake up around five thirty during the week. I go to work, which takes about forty minutes between walking, taking a bus, and taking a subway. After work I come home and dinner with the family. I have private lessons after that and finish after nine at night. I usually collapse an hour later. I also manage to read a a few books per month and do graduate school online whenever time makes itself available.
This seems pretty busy. There's not really any time penciled in for my wife or kids, except for the weekends. Even then, I usually have lessons Saturday mornings. I wonder what my daily life will look like a year from now? Ten years from now? Will there ever be a time for me to just walk into a coffee shop, order a coffee and just read casually? Pick up kids from daycare and take them to the park? Take my wife to dinner?
Is all of this normal? I suppose it could always be worse; I do have a job, after all. That's always a good thing. Just kind of amazed to discover that this might just be considered "normal" for a thirty year old guy with kids.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Reading Dump - February
Oh February, cruel temptress with your frosty weather and bitter snow. Your coldness made attempting to read all the more aggravating on crowded subways and stuffy busloads of silent commuters.
- Letters from Joseon by Robert Neff
- If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino
- Trespassers: Korea, June 1871 by Irving Werstein
- Hamel's Journal and a description of the Kingdom of Korea: 1653-1666 by Henrick Hamel
- Journal of the Third Daughter: Growing up in Korea by Frances Lampe Peterson
- Pyongyang: A journey into North Korea by Guy Delisle
- Naval Surgeon in Yi Korea: The Journal of George W. Woods by Fred Bohm and Robert Swartout
- Before I Go To Sleep by S.J. Watson
Robert Neff's new book got the full review treatment.
Italo Calvino, goodness gracious. Hands down the most frustrating book I've ever enjoyed reading, Italo Calvino takes a hard right turn down Whatthehellsville to address the story to you, the Reader, reading his book, whilst following the reader in the story, who is also reading his book, the same book you're reading, only for both of you, dear readers, to find out that the book is incorrectly put together. A completely unrelated novel's pages have been accidentally inserted into the book you (both) are trying to read. A foul-up at the printers, it seems. Frustration ensues. Actually, it's really admirably frustrating. The novel places a book within a book, which then has a another book inside, whose characters are reading a different book, etc. It's basically the "Inception" of translated Italian fourth wall novels of the late 1970s.
Although published (in English) in 1981, the whole presentation holds up extremely well. True story: I read the book on my kindle, which supposedly should not suffer from the mix-up at the publisher outlined in the plot; meaning a digital copy would not suffer the same fate as the paperback version that the reader is assumed to be reading. However, as I was reading it, I noticed on Amazon's website the kindle version was unexpectedly taken down and unavailable for purchase for some time. My guess is that too many people complained about the bizarre formatting (the first three chapters are a doozy) and Amazon took it down for review.
The Irving Werstein book got a brief review.
I finally got around to reading the Hamel journal. Even though I was familiar with the story, I enjoyed the extra details printed in this edition.
The Third Daughter was kind of a waste. Too bad.
A graphic novel based on the North Korean capital? Not bad, but not great.
What else? Oh, a hundred plus year old travel journal by a respected U.S. doctor? Yes, please.
Before I Go To Sleep: This book has the "Lifetime" network written all over it.
Our lead female is a dissociative amnesic in her late forties who swings so effortlessly between 'trusting' and 'distrusting' that it makes the reader wonder just how exhausting she must have been before her accident. Like all sappy Lifetime stories, her doting husband simultaneously fulfills the role of sensitive, nurturing caregiver and abusive, overbearing pseudo-father figure. How conveniently absurd. This is, of course, only consummated by the preposterously dichotomic role her best friend plays.
What else is there not to like? The pacing is thoroughly slow. The entire story could have been more effectively told in half the amount of pages. The protagonist is a writer (didn't see that one coming). Practically the only curse word to be found ("fuck") is excessively used and in almost all the wrong places. Embellishing detail is limited to panty color and various instances of coffee consumption. Seriously, coffee almost feels like a reoccurring theme it's used so much.
It's a shame that the plot's intriguing concept is wasted on bland writing and unlikable characters. The end product reads like a bad YA screenplay. The book essentially answers the question that no one asked: "What would '50 First Dates' have looked like if it weren't a comedy? Well, here it is. You're welcome?
- Letters from Joseon by Robert Neff
- If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino
- Trespassers: Korea, June 1871 by Irving Werstein
- Hamel's Journal and a description of the Kingdom of Korea: 1653-1666 by Henrick Hamel
- Journal of the Third Daughter: Growing up in Korea by Frances Lampe Peterson
- Pyongyang: A journey into North Korea by Guy Delisle
- Naval Surgeon in Yi Korea: The Journal of George W. Woods by Fred Bohm and Robert Swartout
- Before I Go To Sleep by S.J. Watson
Robert Neff's new book got the full review treatment.
Italo Calvino, goodness gracious. Hands down the most frustrating book I've ever enjoyed reading, Italo Calvino takes a hard right turn down Whatthehellsville to address the story to you, the Reader, reading his book, whilst following the reader in the story, who is also reading his book, the same book you're reading, only for both of you, dear readers, to find out that the book is incorrectly put together. A completely unrelated novel's pages have been accidentally inserted into the book you (both) are trying to read. A foul-up at the printers, it seems. Frustration ensues. Actually, it's really admirably frustrating. The novel places a book within a book, which then has a another book inside, whose characters are reading a different book, etc. It's basically the "Inception" of translated Italian fourth wall novels of the late 1970s.
Although published (in English) in 1981, the whole presentation holds up extremely well. True story: I read the book on my kindle, which supposedly should not suffer from the mix-up at the publisher outlined in the plot; meaning a digital copy would not suffer the same fate as the paperback version that the reader is assumed to be reading. However, as I was reading it, I noticed on Amazon's website the kindle version was unexpectedly taken down and unavailable for purchase for some time. My guess is that too many people complained about the bizarre formatting (the first three chapters are a doozy) and Amazon took it down for review.
The Irving Werstein book got a brief review.
I finally got around to reading the Hamel journal. Even though I was familiar with the story, I enjoyed the extra details printed in this edition.
The Third Daughter was kind of a waste. Too bad.
A graphic novel based on the North Korean capital? Not bad, but not great.
What else? Oh, a hundred plus year old travel journal by a respected U.S. doctor? Yes, please.
Before I Go To Sleep: This book has the "Lifetime" network written all over it.
Our lead female is a dissociative amnesic in her late forties who swings so effortlessly between 'trusting' and 'distrusting' that it makes the reader wonder just how exhausting she must have been before her accident. Like all sappy Lifetime stories, her doting husband simultaneously fulfills the role of sensitive, nurturing caregiver and abusive, overbearing pseudo-father figure. How conveniently absurd. This is, of course, only consummated by the preposterously dichotomic role her best friend plays.
What else is there not to like? The pacing is thoroughly slow. The entire story could have been more effectively told in half the amount of pages. The protagonist is a writer (didn't see that one coming). Practically the only curse word to be found ("fuck") is excessively used and in almost all the wrong places. Embellishing detail is limited to panty color and various instances of coffee consumption. Seriously, coffee almost feels like a reoccurring theme it's used so much.
It's a shame that the plot's intriguing concept is wasted on bland writing and unlikable characters. The end product reads like a bad YA screenplay. The book essentially answers the question that no one asked: "What would '50 First Dates' have looked like if it weren't a comedy? Well, here it is. You're welcome?
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Reading Dump - January
A new year with new reading goals and so far, so good:
- The Remaining by D.J. Molles
- The Remaining: Aftermath by D.J. Molles
- Cataclysm Baby by Matt Bell
- Blindness by Jose Saramango
- Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino
The Remaining: A frightfully entertaining post-apocalyptic "zombies versus survivors" scenario that's a continuous stream of action from start to finish. Nothing too difficult to digest, nothing too predictable, with just the right amount of military backdrop to keep it interesting. This is by no means Pulitzer prize award winning writing, but it is damn good fun and completely worth the price of admission.
The Remaining: Aftermath: The middle act is always a tough act to pull off well. Molles does his readers justice by doing everything that made the first "Remaining" book so enthralling without rehashing predictable plot points and character flaws. Don't allow yourself to make the mistake in thinking that this is just a "zombie" book. Just like the first book, this is an original, fast-paced, survival horror story that is a blast to read. Well done.
Cataclysm Baby: Crass but apt: A fucked up collection of short stories about fatherhood outlined as a dystopian baby name book. Eight bucks for the kindle edition is a steep price for something just shy of 120 pages but it's worth it. Mr. Bell, something is wrong (and also very right) with you. Keep doing what you're doing, just keep your distance, sir.
Blindness: A depressing yet sensible depiction of a contagious case of mass-blindness that prompts the breakdown of civilization. From good Samaritans to practical thieves, sanitation concerns to budding pockets of tribes, this book attempts to cover and answer contemplative questions that we might ask ourselves: What if everyone went blind? Who would take advantage of the situation? Who would maintain their integrity? How might the government intervene?
It's a brilliant concept beautifully rendered and, even better, reliably captured in translation from the original Portuguese. The author's choice of scarcely used punctuation is reminiscent of Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" although "Blindness" reads more densely; there's only about fifty paragraphs in the entire book which make the 300 plus pages feel more like 450 plus. It's a chore getting through each dialogue but the overall experience is fulfilling for those patient enough to wade through Saramago's turtle-like pacing and hair-pulling formatting. A journey well worth your time.
Invisible Cities. This easily digestible travelogue supported by a fictitious narration by Marco Polo is memorable and unique. Dozens of depictions of fabricated cities evoke real-world comparisons to sprawling metropolises all over the world. Between sets of cities, a sort of comedic intermission occurs between Polo and Kublai Khan. The overall concept is well-executed; how else can you explain why so many people are fond of this collection of single-paged city descriptions? It reads like architectural porn, really.
It isn't perfect, though. Its characteristic brevity is also a detractor; it's hard to care about a city after only a page or two. Also, despite its minimalism, familiar vocabulary like parapet, veranda and estuary get marred by overly particular words with minimal context; words like balustrade, corbel, and trestle. Lastly, although I enjoy prosaic depictions of naked women as much as the next man, the first few chapters curiously feature a lot of young, bathing women tantalizing the unsuspecting traveler. Oh Marco Polo, you cad.
Perhaps it's the frequent hat tips to Venice or the seemingly overlapping descriptions, but 'Invisible Cities' is a flawed but enjoyable buffet of teasing cities that beg to be fleshed out.
- The Remaining by D.J. Molles
- The Remaining: Aftermath by D.J. Molles
- Cataclysm Baby by Matt Bell
- Blindness by Jose Saramango
- Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino
The Remaining: A frightfully entertaining post-apocalyptic "zombies versus survivors" scenario that's a continuous stream of action from start to finish. Nothing too difficult to digest, nothing too predictable, with just the right amount of military backdrop to keep it interesting. This is by no means Pulitzer prize award winning writing, but it is damn good fun and completely worth the price of admission.
The Remaining: Aftermath: The middle act is always a tough act to pull off well. Molles does his readers justice by doing everything that made the first "Remaining" book so enthralling without rehashing predictable plot points and character flaws. Don't allow yourself to make the mistake in thinking that this is just a "zombie" book. Just like the first book, this is an original, fast-paced, survival horror story that is a blast to read. Well done.
Cataclysm Baby: Crass but apt: A fucked up collection of short stories about fatherhood outlined as a dystopian baby name book. Eight bucks for the kindle edition is a steep price for something just shy of 120 pages but it's worth it. Mr. Bell, something is wrong (and also very right) with you. Keep doing what you're doing, just keep your distance, sir.
Blindness: A depressing yet sensible depiction of a contagious case of mass-blindness that prompts the breakdown of civilization. From good Samaritans to practical thieves, sanitation concerns to budding pockets of tribes, this book attempts to cover and answer contemplative questions that we might ask ourselves: What if everyone went blind? Who would take advantage of the situation? Who would maintain their integrity? How might the government intervene?
It's a brilliant concept beautifully rendered and, even better, reliably captured in translation from the original Portuguese. The author's choice of scarcely used punctuation is reminiscent of Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" although "Blindness" reads more densely; there's only about fifty paragraphs in the entire book which make the 300 plus pages feel more like 450 plus. It's a chore getting through each dialogue but the overall experience is fulfilling for those patient enough to wade through Saramago's turtle-like pacing and hair-pulling formatting. A journey well worth your time.
Invisible Cities. This easily digestible travelogue supported by a fictitious narration by Marco Polo is memorable and unique. Dozens of depictions of fabricated cities evoke real-world comparisons to sprawling metropolises all over the world. Between sets of cities, a sort of comedic intermission occurs between Polo and Kublai Khan. The overall concept is well-executed; how else can you explain why so many people are fond of this collection of single-paged city descriptions? It reads like architectural porn, really.
It isn't perfect, though. Its characteristic brevity is also a detractor; it's hard to care about a city after only a page or two. Also, despite its minimalism, familiar vocabulary like parapet, veranda and estuary get marred by overly particular words with minimal context; words like balustrade, corbel, and trestle. Lastly, although I enjoy prosaic depictions of naked women as much as the next man, the first few chapters curiously feature a lot of young, bathing women tantalizing the unsuspecting traveler. Oh Marco Polo, you cad.
Perhaps it's the frequent hat tips to Venice or the seemingly overlapping descriptions, but 'Invisible Cities' is a flawed but enjoyable buffet of teasing cities that beg to be fleshed out.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Mr. Smith's Topics
I was going through a bag of mine recently and found a neatly folded square of paper at the bottom of a hidden compartment. I unfolded it and, to my surprise, discovered a small bullet list of ideas called "Mr. Smith's Topics".
I distinctly remember writing this on a scrap a paper while still in boot camp. Scared out of my mind, tired, and apparently missing my old life as a teacher, I listed a number of topics to talk to my future students, proof that I had planned to return to teaching, it seems. These ideas were ten minute discussions that could be done at a set time each day, kind of like Drop Everything And Read time slot. These kind of social lessons would never be on any test but would be invaluable life lessons.
I did something similar but more informal and unstructured when I taught fourth grade. The kids really seemed to like it; I suppose I was reminiscing and wanted to perfect that teaching moment. I suppose I was thinking of these topics after listening to my shipmates bark insults at each other throughout the night. I suppose I thought I could see my former students in some of them. "Maybe if I had taught them this, they would be better off".
So, here's what was on my mind at the time:
- politeness, manners, being respectful
- school habits
- classroom job assignments
- the importance of the Pledge of Allegiance
- how to apologize
- personal space, property
- dealing with stress, anger
- equal opportunity, anti-discrimination
- how to be a friend
- healthy habits, diet, exercise
- avoid wasting food
- FB, texting, privacy, online bullying
- goal setting (short and long term)
- attention to details, listening, preventing someone from repeating themselves
- middle and high school - what to expect
- college and beyond
- working a job
- video games, TV, movie choices
- reading for pleasure - benefits
- foreign countries, languages
- reading buddies, volunteerism, altruism
- teamwork
On the back of the sheet reads: "Changes to the classroom". this must have been things that I wanted to do better coming off the end of last teaching year.
- 1st month school rules and regulations "Mr. Smith's boot camp"
- maintain voice level discipline
- organize community project
- outline better expectations for the reading buddies project
- better accountability for Accelerated Reader
- Letters for the Troops
- Penpal program
- slower breakdown of math explanations
- Khan Academy
- better expectations for homework
- library book checkout list
- lose chair privileges
- ask for more classroom supplies
- parent communication clarification
- water bottles at desks for better hydration
- teach port side, starboard side
I distinctly remember writing this on a scrap a paper while still in boot camp. Scared out of my mind, tired, and apparently missing my old life as a teacher, I listed a number of topics to talk to my future students, proof that I had planned to return to teaching, it seems. These ideas were ten minute discussions that could be done at a set time each day, kind of like Drop Everything And Read time slot. These kind of social lessons would never be on any test but would be invaluable life lessons.
I did something similar but more informal and unstructured when I taught fourth grade. The kids really seemed to like it; I suppose I was reminiscing and wanted to perfect that teaching moment. I suppose I was thinking of these topics after listening to my shipmates bark insults at each other throughout the night. I suppose I thought I could see my former students in some of them. "Maybe if I had taught them this, they would be better off".
So, here's what was on my mind at the time:
- politeness, manners, being respectful
- school habits
- classroom job assignments
- the importance of the Pledge of Allegiance
- how to apologize
- personal space, property
- dealing with stress, anger
- equal opportunity, anti-discrimination
- how to be a friend
- healthy habits, diet, exercise
- avoid wasting food
- FB, texting, privacy, online bullying
- goal setting (short and long term)
- attention to details, listening, preventing someone from repeating themselves
- middle and high school - what to expect
- college and beyond
- working a job
- video games, TV, movie choices
- reading for pleasure - benefits
- foreign countries, languages
- reading buddies, volunteerism, altruism
- teamwork
On the back of the sheet reads: "Changes to the classroom". this must have been things that I wanted to do better coming off the end of last teaching year.
- 1st month school rules and regulations "Mr. Smith's boot camp"
- maintain voice level discipline
- organize community project
- outline better expectations for the reading buddies project
- better accountability for Accelerated Reader
- Letters for the Troops
- Penpal program
- slower breakdown of math explanations
- Khan Academy
- better expectations for homework
- library book checkout list
- lose chair privileges
- ask for more classroom supplies
- parent communication clarification
- water bottles at desks for better hydration
- teach port side, starboard side
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