Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon

So, it's been about a week since I finished this, because I was waiting on purpose to collect my thoughts and write a really good review. But of course I've forgotten most of what I wanted to say.
It's taken me a while to jump on the Chabon bandwagon. I've started Kavalier and Clay three or four times and never gotten into it. Wonder Boys was a little slow to start but I was hooked around the time he said shibboleth (I'm not really a you-had-me-at-hello kind of girl). Seriously, the man's vocabulary is insane and wonderful.
I finished the book on the train to work and felt really unsteady. It was just so true and ordinary and heartbreaking. So I guess I'll stick to mysteries while commuting.

When I got to work and told J.P. about it he goes, "oh, like that movie with Katie Holmes?" Urgh, how disappointing. But I'll probably watch it anyway.

I'm not summarizing, deal with it. It was hilarious and tragic, with a little Gatsby thing going on, but better than Gatsby. so, read it.

The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano

This bad boy is the story of a Mexican literary movement, the Visceral Realists, told in two parts. Bolano is sort of a cross between Hunter S. Thompson and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Which is to say, good. It's the kind of story that makes me feel restless and lonely.

The first part is the journal of the poet Juan Garcia Madero. He spends a lot of time in bars and the beds of various young ladies. He's this slacker student living off of someone else's money, and like so many Thompson characters lives in a desperate, hungry way.

Then there's this middle part that I read rather absentmindedly, which is terrible I know, which is kind of a retrospective of the movement told by a bunch of different people and not as interesting and the Garcia Madero storyline.

Then, back to him and some other poets, although they hardly ever write, and they go off to escape Lupe's pimp and also to find Cesarea Tinajero, who is sort of the founder of the movement. They find her, but the pimp finds them, and there's a shootout, and Garcia Madero separates from his friends and his diary becomes just a list of towns.

Honestly, this is a horrible description. It's a really big book, epic, so I've left out tons. But I loved it. So there.

Angels and Insects by A.S. Byatt

This is actually two novellas. The second one, "The Conjugal Angel," was a ghost story and I wasn't really into it. It's based on Tennyson's In Memoriam, which I haven't read (unless it was in American Lit, which I'm trying to repress). So, if you're into that poem and/or ghost stories, check it out. For me it was kind of meh.

The first one, though, "Morpho Eugenia," I liked a lot. It's victorian and gothic, so there are all these vaguely tubercular beauties and a vague creepy "The Fall of the House of Usher" vibe. Also, insects, natural selection, and anagrams. These are a few of my favorite things.

Chick Lit

This interview might make me actually read one of Jennifer Weiner or Laura Moriarty's books.

Love is a Mixtape by Rob Sheffield

I decided to read this book because I read somewhere that Sheffield said some things about the Replacements, who are my favorite band for many reasons, the least fucked-up of which is that they are very good. By page 5 I didn't give a shit about them and was instead completely in love with Renee. Renee is Sheffield's late wife, and this book is an homage to her, as well as an account of the ways music affects us. I am a sucker for mixtapes, I'm always making them for boys I'm secretly in love with (this has yet to work out for me), and yeah, there are some songs that just become synonymous with certain times in our lives. I never listen to Transatlanticism anymore (though I still love it), because it reminds me of junior year, knitting and crying in my room. Also there was no heater, so that album makes me feel cold. Anyway, file this one under Books About Love that I Don't Hate, and Books That Make Me Wish I Was Born Ten Years Earlier. And read it now.

see also: Tiny Mix Tapes, especially this one.

How Language Works by David Crystal

This was a really good overview of language, which is no small feat. It was easy to read without being condescending. I skimmed the first few chapters about learning language, because that stuff is interesting but I still remember it from psych 425. I got hooked (on phonics, sort of) in the later chapters about morphemes (the smallest units of language that have meaning) because I'm into etymology (and also entomology, but that's different). He does a nice analysis of different language structures, although I would have liked more examples. There's also a good section about electronic communication. Unlike Crystal, I'm resistant to a lot of the ways English is changing, mostly because I'm a grammar slut of the Eats, Shoots, and Leaves variety. And yes, I believe in Oxford Commas. Anyway. Language! It's neat!

p.s. the only infix in English is "fucking," as in un-fucking-believable or fan-fucking-tastic.

The One Percent Doctrine by Ron Suskind

This is one of those rare books that I didn't even finish. Sometimes I feel guilty about this, but I just couldn't stomach it. Basically, I'm a dirty hippie and this book was about why the Bush Administration is doing a fine job. Perhaps you will consider me closed-minded, and trust me, I'm working on it. But the one percent doctrine is this: If there is even a one percent chance that some terrorists are out there, we ought to take pre-emptive action, because we are tired of sifting through all the intelligence and it's just too hard. Well I'm sorry that you're tired, but that is just not acceptable. And also, I object to calling all the men by their last names, in keeping with journalistic convention, yet consistently referring to Condoleeza Rice as "Condi." It's the naughty aughties, Ronnie baby. Give the woman some respect.

The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less by Barry Schwartz

You may have noticed that about half of what I'm reading lately comes from Laurie's Blog, and this is no exception. Here, Schwartz describes 2 kinds of decision-makers (Satisficers and Maximizers), then describes each one's decision-making process in terms of buying a sweater. A satisficer has a set of criteria regarding cost, fit, color, etc. When a satisficer finds a sweater that meets the criteria, he or she stops looking. A Maximizer, though, will attempt to find the very best sweater available to him. The paradox is that the satisficer, who may have actually settled for an inferior sweater, will be much more satisfied than the Maximizer, largely due to regret (e.g., what if there was a better sweater she missed?). So, Schwartz says, the glut of options available to us as consumers actually produces feelings of less satisfaction, as well as more pressure to maximize our decisions. The book is really a meta-analysis of decision-making studies, some of which I remembered from Professor Laughlin's class. I thought it was really interesting, and I'm trying to pay more attention to the decisions I make. But like I said, I'm a dirty hippie. I love to rail against our consumer culture.

I Like You by Amy Sedaris

Those Sedarises are a funny bunch. This is a snarky compendium of useful tips for hostesses, the best of which is "Keep a supply of chips, napkins, and booze at a neighbor's house. That way you know whose door to knock on at 3 in the morning when you run out." That's good advice.
The illustrations are nauseatingly retro, out-kitsching even that master of kitsch, Betty Crocker herself. The fake cakes are lovely, and I identify with Sedaris' penchant for gluing googly eyes on all manner of household junk. And her party-planning tips can't be beat, as they always include copious amounts of booze, marijuana, or both. For all the sass, she really does get entertaining: a way to say "I Like You."

Trans-Sister Radio by Chris Bohjalian

I really like Bohjalian. I picked this up because his new book was checked out, AGAIN. Curses. Anyway, it doesn't disappoint. This one's about a MTF transsexual who meets a woman the summer before his operation, they fall in love, and stay together after he becomes she. The girlfriend has a child and an ex-husband, and Bohjalian switches between all four points of view, exploring gender, sexuality, love, and tolerance. Also, lots of his books take place in Vermont and have an appealing (to me, anyway) crunchy-granola quality. Here, the father and daughter work for NPR.
I like the pacing of Bohjalian's books. He always does the alternate viewpoints thing, and it lends a little suspense to their storylines. He does have a slight tendency to throw in sentences like "I had no way of knowing that x would cause y," but not enough for it to be annoying. The prose feels relaxed, but always like it's leading somewhere (though it often ends up somewhere else). He tells stories of families, friends, towns, first on the cusp of falling apart, then broken, then beginning, slowly, to rebuild themselves. Good Stuff.