The Books/Reading Thread

[Einherjar86]

 

[unknown]

 

[Einherjar86]

Finished V. On to...

INFINITE JEST.

 

[unknown]

so for those of you into weird fiction, specifically H.P. Lovecraft, and have not yet dove into his biggest inspiration, Lord Dunsany, I present to you a passage from The Gods of Pegana:

OF THE THING THAT IS NEITHER GOD NOR BEAST

Seeing that wisdom is not in cities nor happiness in wisdom, and because Yadin the prophet was doomed by the gods ere he was born to go in search of wisdom, he followed the caravans to Bodrahan. There in the evening, where the camels rest, when the wind of the day ebbs out into the desert sighing amid the palms its last farewells and leaving the caravans still, he sent his prayer with the wind to drift into the desert calling to Hoodrazai.

And down the wind his prayer went calling: "Why do the gods endure, and play their game with men? Why doth not Skarl forsake his drumming, and MANA cease to rest?" and the echo of seven deserts answered: "Who knows? Who knows?"

But out in the waste, beyond the seven deserts where Ranorada looms enormous in the dusk, at evening his prayer was heard; and from the rim of the waste whither had gone his prayer, came three flamingoes flying, and their voices said: "Going South, Going South" at every stroke of their wings.

But as they passed by the prophet they seemed so cool and free and the desert so blinding and hot that he stretched up his arms towards them. Then it seemed happy to fly and pleasant to follow behind great white wings, and he was with the three flamingoes up in the cool above the desert, and their voices cried before him: "Going South, Going South," and the desert below him mumbled: "Who knows? Who knows?"

Sometimes the earth stretched up towards them with peaks of mountains, sometimes it fell away in steep ravines, blue rivers sang to them as they passed above them, or very faintly came the song of breezes in lone orchards, and far away the sea sang mighty dirges of old forsaken isles. But it seemed that in all the world there was nothing only to be going South.

It seemed that somewhere the South was calling to her own, and that they were going South.

But when the prophet saw that they had passed above the edge of Earth, and that far away to the North of them lay the Moon, he perceived that he was following no mortal birds but some strange messengers of Hoodrazai whose nest had lain in one of Pegana's vales below the mountains whereon sit the gods.

Still they went South, passing by all the Worlds and leaving them to the North, till only Araxes, Zadres, and Hyraglion lay still to the South of them, where great Ingazi seemed only a point of light, and Yo and Mindo could be seen no more.

Still they went South till they passed below the South and came to the Rim of the Worlds.

There there is neither South nor East nor West, but only North and Beyond; there is only North of it where lie the Worlds, and Beyond it where lies the Silence, and the Rim is a mass of rocks that were never used by the gods when They made the Worlds, and on it sat Trogool. Trogool is the Thing that is neither god nor beast, who neither howls nor breathes, only It turns over the leaves of a great book, black and white, black and white for ever until THE END.

And all that is to be is written in the book is also all that was.

When It turneth a black page it is night, and when It turneth a white page it is day.

Because it is written that there are gods—there are the gods.

Also there is writing about thee and me until the page where our names no more are written.

Then as the prophet watched It, Trogool turned a page—a black one, and night was over, and day shone on the Worlds.

Trogool is the Thing that men in many countries have called by many names, It is the Thing that sits behind the gods, whose book is the Scheme of Things.

But when Yadin saw that old remembered days were hidden away with the part that It had turned, and knew that upon one whose name is writ no more the last page had turned for ever a thousand pages back. Then did he utter his prayer in the fact of Trogool who only turns the pages and never answers prayer. He prayed in the face of Trogool: "Only turn back thy pages to the name of one which is writ no more, and far away upon a place named Earth shall rise the prayers of a little people that acclaim the name of Trogool, for there is indeed far off a place called Earth where men shall pray to Trogool."

Then spake Trogool who turns the pages and never answers prayer, and his voice was like the murmurs of the waste at night when echoes have been lost: "Though the whirlwind of the South should tug with his claws at a page that hath been turned yet shall he not be able to ever turn it back."

Then because of words in the book that said that it should be so, Yadin found himself lying in the desert where one gave him water, and afterwards carried him on a camel into Bodrahan.

There some said that he had but dreamed when thirst seized him while he wandered among the rocks in the desert. But certain aged men of Bodrahan say that indeed there sitteth somewhere a Thing that is called Trogool, that is neither god nor beast, that turneth the leaves of a book, black and white, black and white, until he come to the words: Mai Doon Izahn, which means The End For Ever, and book and gods and worlds shall be no more.

 

[Einherjar86]

^Nice. At the Mountains of Madness is on my orals list, but I doubt anyone will ask me about it. There's a scholar at BU who looks at the gothic, so he might; but from what I've heard him say, he doesn't care much for Lovecraft. Although, to be fair, Lovecraft doesn't really fall into the scope of traditional "gothic" literature.

I have a couple scholarly works that came up on my reading list. Looking forward to getting into these:

 

[rms]

The Szalay book seems to have an interesting premise.

 

[Einherjar86]

It certainly does. I read some of the introduction yesterday. The nice thing about scholarly texts is they're much easier to read in segments than fiction texts are. Anyway, in the introduction he professed concern over literary scholarship's historical commitment to an ideological vision of anti-capitalist critique, and said that his study aims to look at writers on both sides of the political fence (so, for instance, he's looking at Richard Wright, who was an African American writer who espoused socialism, but also at Ayn Rand). Ultimately, his interest isn't in defending or criticizing the welfare state, but in understanding how cultural dynamics, mainly literary ones, had an effect on its creation and on the subsequent creation of "big government."

 

[viewerfromnihil]

I read The Stranger over the weekend. It was good and its philosophical underpinnings were very clear, but it didn't live up to its hype for me (The hype I'm referring to is its ranking as the best book of the twentieth century, according to a Le Monde poll). The climax was entertaining, but as far as great kangaroo-trial scenes go, its absurdity fell well short of the comparable scene of Dimitri's trial in The Brothers Karamazov - of course, The Stranger is just over a hundred pages and The Brothers Karamazov is nearly a thousand, so that plays into it. There's something to say, too, about Camus' portrayal of Arabs in the work. Certainly, it's a stark "Other" illustration if taken on its own, but I think it's a bit more than that when Camus' views on Algerian independence are taken into account. I haven't really researched the matter, but I'm aware that Sarte, who was a major proponent of Algerian independence, criticized Camus' views on the matter. I've read a bit of The Myth of Sisyphus and have preferred it. I look forward to jumping into The Plague sometime in the near future.

I just finished this after a recommendation from a professor:

 

[Einherjar86]

I've never read any Camus. He isn't immediately applicable to my studies, but I'd like to get around to it someday.

In what I consider a monumental personal achievement, I've finished Infinite Jest. In light of a longer, in-depth review, I'll say just a few words:

It is a remarkable, engrossing story about addiction, entertainment, media saturation, identity, politics... so many things. It definitely wanders at times, but it's never gratuitous. The overarching story has to do with a film (referred to in the novel as "The Entertainment") that is so aesthetically pleasing that it causes its viewers to want nothing more than to watch it ceaselessly, even at the expense of their own health. That's an incredibly simple description, but I figure it's enticing enough.

The construction of the entire novel is beyond genius: it took me a while upon finishing to actually figure out what happened (and I'm still not sure I understand completely). The story isn't linear, and this makes for some difficult comprehension; but the way everything adds up, once you make it through, is very impressive. It's one of those books that doesn't truly end when you turn the last page. It stays with you for a long time, revitalizing itself in its circularity and perpetuity. I recommend it to lovers of twentieth-century fiction, but only those who are seriously dedicated. It ranks in the top five (probably) of books that demand an exorbitant amount of focus.

 

[SentinelSlain]

The thing is, people from the Muslim faith often do stare at white people as if they're looking at a rock.

 

[viewerfromnihil]

This isn't about books or reading, but it is about DFW. There will be a movie about him released soon, "End of the Tour." I'll check it out when it's released. I'm a little put off though, because the preview showed DFW smoking cigarettes. DFW didn't smoke; he used dipping tobacco. Obviously, the film makers knew this. It's something people pointed out repeatedly in recollections of him and one of the main characters in Infinite Jest dipped compulsively. It'll go under the radar, but, oddly, as somebody who has dipped for years and haven't managed to get off the stuff, I'm pretty annoyed. It's a disgusting addiction, so obviously that's why it was left out--perhaps they were concerned audience members would fixate on the brown spit--but, when you're making a movie about somebody as genuine a person as DFW was, you miss the point of a film about somebody like DFW entirely.

I read White Noise a couple of weeks ago in a few sittings. I thought it was great. It's a book that can be read quickly and thoroughly enjoyed, but there's so much that can be dug out of it if analyzed with scrutiny. White Noise is one I see myself coming back to in the future.

The Master and Margarita was a fun read. It was very odd and hilarious all the while. Still, when it comes to Russian's, I would have enjoyed spending my time with Dostoevsky instead of Bulgakov.

 

[Dak]

Trying to crack back into reading a light fiction with stuff from The Black Library.

 

[Anom@nder Rake]

Einherjar and unknown might be interested that Neal Stephenson and Mark Z. Danielewski have new books out. The Familiar by Danielewski is volume one of apparently a 27 book series

 

[unknown]

Yup. Heard about that. I haven't really enjoyed any of MZD's books after House of Leaves. Only Revolutions was practically unreadable. Fifty Year Sword I need to give another try.

The new Neal Stephenson is supposed to be good though. Will definitely be checking it out

 

[unknown]

Got a new bookcase and put some shelves above my desk. Reorganized the books. I'm happy that all of my weird fiction books fit on one shelf. All of my teaching textbooks and theory/pedagogy books are now organized. Link to album of pictures of the two shelves I'm most proud of:

http://imgur.com/a/JvzND

 

[Cronopio]

Quite a nice weird fic collection you got there. Props on the T.E.D. Klein books, that's some hardcore collecting right there. Your Ligotti books must have cost you a fortune. I'm still waiting for the Penguin edition of Songs of a Dead Dreamer.

 

[unknown]

Thanks! I've been working hard on it for the past five years or so. I got lucky on the T.E.D. Klein books. The Ceremonies and Dark Gods I both got from eBay for pretty cheap. Reassuring Tales is the jewel though. That's a SIGNED unnumbered publisher's copy. A numbered regular copy of the book went for $70; a lettered copy (there were 26) went for $100...I got my copy for $40 from this bookstore in San Francisco. I nearly shit myself when I saw the price. The bookstore owner told me the previous owner of said book had a huge weird fiction collection but was moving overseas and had to unload it. Worked for me

The envelope also contains a couple of Dagon zines featuring Ligotti stories.

The thing that pisses me off is the books on the right hand end, the William Hope Hodgson hardbacks...I'll never have the full set. The third volume was extremely limited, and the full set goes for something like $1100. Oh well

 

[Einherjar86]

Figured I'd throw an update here since I've been plowing through some stuff. I finished Infinite Jest. It was one of the most challenging books I've ever read, but totally worth it. And wow, what an impressive piece of fiction. I've also since made it through these:

 

[unknown]

I remember reading Tender is the Night in grad school and thought it was pretty decent. I don't remember much beyond that

 

[TechnicalBarbarity]

Man i've been itching to start reading some good fantasy/fiction novels. I've never read the LOtR books or a ASOIAF ... which i plan on changing soon. I've also been looking at a lot stuff from Russian writers (Metro 2033, Roadside Picnic, etc). What would you guys rec for a complete novel newbie?

I've also have a "hand me down" copy of Homers Illiad thats been laying around and collectiong dust for years. I'm thinking maybe i should crack that baby open.