Showing posts with label Jeanette Winterson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeanette Winterson. Show all posts

Friday, November 13, 2015

Knopf 100--Day 26: This Is It! We Hit 100!

Whoa! We've made it to the end! I'll post the complete list tomorrow, but here are the last four picks of our Knopf 100, in celebration of the 100th anniversary of Alfred A. Knopf. Despite Gianna's habit of choosing books I'd already selected, we're concluding this list knowing that there are pooty loads of excellent books that could have made this list. It's been a challenge, an adventure, and a daunting task.

97. Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson, originally published in 1993. When we first discussed this project, Gianna and I both immediately thought about Written on the Body as a perfect pick...and then proceeded not to pick it for 25 days for fear of stepping on each other's toes. This is a novel with a narrator who is never named nor assigned a gender. The narrator is caught up in an intense love affair with a married woman, and the book weaves around and within that relationship. Winterson's fluid wordplay makes it a remarkable read, but her gender play makes Written on the Body a masterpiece. We both love this book fiercely.

98. The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri, originally published in 2013. Jhumpa Lahiri has written four published books thus far (the fifth comes out in the spring of 2016), all of which have been terrific. She is a powerful and thoughtful writer whose work explores the idea of being an outsider within the society surrounding her characters. In The Lowland, a National Book Award and Man Booker Prize finalist, two brothers lead totally different lives. One finds love but is a revolutionary, stirring up trouble in the turbulent 60's. The other is the obedient son, immigrating to America. Between them, though, is the woman they both love, who is haunted by her past.

99. The News from Spain by Joan Wickersham, originally published in 2012. It kills me that The News from Spain isn't better known. If you take one "I've never even heard of that" book away from this list, let it be this one. This is a collection of seven short stories all relating to the theme of love--parent and child, husband and wife, friends, caregivers. All seven stories are titled "The News from Spain," and together they perform like a literary concert around the love theme. One that sticks in my memory involves a cantankerous old woman sparring with her in-home caretaker. Her hurts from the past are revealed, but also the love between two people thrust into a relationship because of a job. It's tender and heartbreaking, and Wickersham's writing is on a level with masters like Alice Munro.

100. Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, originally published in 2014. How could I not include Station Eleven when I raved about it for months last year? Truth be told, I'd been holding it for the end for awhile, but then in the process of creating these posts and looking for books to feature, it had slipped my mind. Fortunately a friend following the blog reminded me yesterday. I would have hated myself if it had been excluded. Station Eleven is the novel that proves a book can be "literary" without being dull, that it can be "post-apocalyptic" within being a novel of despair. There are several narrative threads blending together in this book, all in some way connected to an actor who dies onstage during a production of King Lear. That same night, a mutant flu virus wipes out most of the world's population. Much of the book is set twenty years down the line from that point and follows a troupe of traveling performers. They move from settlement to settlement playing orchestral music and performing Shakespeare's plays, and their motto is "because survival is insufficient." I love that Emily St. John Mandel manages to talk about loss and all the things we take for granted in our modern lives, but also offers hope that culture--art, music, theater, words--live on and are what makes us human. On that note, this is an ideal book to round out our list.


Thursday, January 3, 2013

New Year, New 30 Day Book Challenge


We haven't suffered through one of these Facebook-style list projects in over a year, which means that Gianna is getting complacent.  We can't let that happen. Plus, Gianna loves list projects. They keep her on her toes and give her regular opportunities to make crass comments about my nonexistent social life.  And I need the abuse lest I become too well-balanced.  So here we go.  Want to play along?

Day 1: The Best Book You Read Last Year

Gianna:

I don't know why I agree to do these lists. Liz enjoys making me crazy, and I guess I feel the need to make Liz happy. Maybe 2014 will be the year I refuse to do these Sophie's Choice type of lists but for now...here we go. We will be doing one question a day for the next 30 days.

favorite book of 2012
I really did love Beyond the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo, but if pressed (and I do feel pressed) I would have to say that Jeanette Winters memoir, Why Be Happy When You Can Be Normal?, edges it out ever so slightly. I actually kind of feel guilty about it.


2nd favorite book of 2012...
I know Boo’s book is big, bold, and important [just like me!--Liz], but there was something so personal in Winterson’s memoir that my gut reaction is going to pick it as my year-end favorite. That’s it, not going to go back and try to change this later. I’ve made my choice. I guess. 

I will say without hesitation however,  Why Be Happy When You Can Be Normal? is the best title of the year. It refers to a heartfelt question that Winterson's mother asked her and in fact, I think it's a question that many parents of gay and lesbians used to wonder (or maybe still do). Normal...no thanks. 

Jeanette Winterson...not "normal"
Liz

What can I say? I am a sucker for the John Cheever-esque family saga. Families broken open in the midst of their American dream lives satisfy my fiction loving soul.  Thus, I'm picking In Between Days by Andrew Porter as my favorite book of 2012 (followed closely by Adam Johnson's The Orphan Master's Son because I also can't get enough of the crazy that is North Korea).  Andrew Porter's first novel is terrific.

Andrew Porter
Living in the middle of Houston (America's center of urban sprawl?), the Hardings are a family starting to unravel.  Patriarch Elson was supposed to be a major player in the architecture community, but by mid life he hasn't lived up to his promise, and he's recently separated from his wife, Cadence.  Their older child, Richard, has just graduated from Rice, but instead of following his writing aspirations, he is lingering at home and working a food service job while attending parties at a professor's house at night.  And then there's Chloe.  Attending school in the East, Chloe is sent home unexpectedly and won't talk to the rightfully concerned members of her family.

This is a story of family, modern life, the rot under surface of "the good life." It's a book about unfulfilled dreams.  Best of all, it's a literary novel with terrific writing that doesn't bog down.  It's a book that's stuck in my head.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Our Top 10 Picks From All Publishers

We knew you wouldn't be able to really feel like it was a new year until you had our complete top 10 lists. We've given you our top reads from Random House and University of Texas Press (the suckers that employ us) but we now offer our favorites from our competitors.

Gianna's List:


1. Why Be Happy When You can Be Normal by Jeanette Winterson 

I bought this the day it was released, went home, blew off work for the rest of the day and read this in one sitting. It is, by a wide margin, my favorite book of the year, and my favorite book by Winterson. If you knew how much I loved Art Objects, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, and especially Written on the Body, the fact that this book now goes to the top of my Winterson list, well it’s a big deal. In short, this is a memoir about how books can save you.

From Why Be Happy When You can Be Normal:

“Books, for me, are a home. Books don’t make a home – they are one, in the sense that just as you do with a door, you open a book, and you go inside. Inside there is a different kind of time and a different kind of space.”

“That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn't a hiding place. It is a finding place.”

“A tough life needs a tough language—and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is.”

There are probably, no there are definitely, too many memoirs out there. Too many "my childhood was terrible, my mother was crazy, my father was an alcoholic, and I fell in love with my dog" memoirs out there. [...or cat.] What they miss most of the time is introspection, brutal honestly, and breathtaking prose. What Mary Karr, Rick Bragg, Joan Didion, William Styron, Gail Caldwell, Tobias Wolff, and very few others can do is put together a sentence that haunts you and begs to be savored.

2. This is How you Lose Her by Junot Diaz

This was the book I was most excited to read in 2012, and it did not disappoint. You know how people are absolutely nuts about Michael Chabon or Jonathan Franzen? That’s how I feel about Junot Diaz. If you like Jhumpa Lahiri, Jennifer Egan, David Mitchell, Karen Russell or Colum McCann, give Junot Diaz a try.

3. How Should a Person Be? by Sheila Heti
I would hold off and buy this in paperback because you are going to want to underline a bunch of stuff. It’s a smart smart smart book and I really hope it makes some year end lists. If you’re a woman under thirty, it’s a must by the way.

4. Canada by Richard Ford


Canada is as good as The Sportswriter and Independence Day. It is, in my opinion his best novel in years (probably since Independence Day). You can read any Richard Ford book and know that you’ve read on of the best novels that you will read that year, but with Canada he is, as the literary snobs say, ‘writing at the height of his powers.’

5. Are You My Mother by Alison Bechdel

Oh, how I resisted Alison Bechdel. It took five years of people annoying me about Fun Home before I read it. Lesson learned, and I read Are You My Mother immediately. While Fun Home dealt with Bechdel’s father, this tackles her just as complicated relationship with her mother.  While I wish Mother wasn’t so psychoanalysis heavy (got to be a bit much for me), it still makes my year-end list because it’s so smart and original.

6. Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain

I picked this book up at the Texas Book Festival not really knowing too much about it. My intention was to find a lighthearted book to tear through while between more serious reads. Turns out while Fountain’s book is humorous, it’s also pretty heartbreaking. I can’t think of anything better than when a book completely surprises you.

7. Yellow Birds by Kevin Powers

I don’t know if this book was over-hyped or not. Probably. For me though, I felt this was an extraordinary first novel, actually it was a really great novel, first novel or not. I think when a book gets so much praise, there is bound to be backlash and that’s too bad. I have absolutely no qualms placing this book on the list with Richard Ford, John Irving, and Junot Diaz. Forget the haters!

8. In One Person by John Irving

I am a little in love with John Irving. I have read seven of his books, (probably the most books by a single author that I have read outside of Joyce Carol Oates), and I have to tell you, this is his best book since Widow for One Year and it holds up to his best work.

9. People Who Eat Darkness by Richard Lloyd Parry

I think this is the only true crime book I read this year, and that may be because of how utterly depressing this book is. This is the story of a Japanese serial murderer who got away with killing women for three decades. The incompetence of the Japanese police is dumbfounding (or maybe they just didn’t give a damn). This book makes my list because the writing is really fantastic, the topic is mesmerizing, and Parry has managed to give voice to these women while Japanese police ignored them.

10. My Extraordinary Ordinary Life by Sissy Spacek

Spoiler alert: I love Sissy Spacek. If she had revealed in this memoir that she had been killing and burying defenseless squirrels in her basement, it would still make my list. Also, squirrels aren’t exactly defenseless; they can be quite vicious. This review has gotten off to a very rocky start. Let me start over.  
Spacek’s memoir makes my list because while it contains zero Hollywood gossip, you’re knee deep in really great film stories (from Terrence Malick to Loretta Lynn). Oh, wait…she does talk about how Bill Paxton killed her bird, so there is a bit of gossip for ya. 

Liz's picks

Unlike Gianna, I found The Yellow Birds cringe-worthy. In general, though, our book tastes overlap a bit.  And while 2012 wasn't the year of the big, big novel like some years, I think it's been a great year for emerging writers and great writers around for awhile receiving well-deserved recognition. Take a look at the National Book Award finalists.  There aren't any dogs on that list....except for Yellow Birds, which isn't bad, just grossly overrated.  In the interest of fairness, I'm not naming ten books here because there are many books--The Middlesteins, HHhH, Arcadia, Where'd You Go Bernadette, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, to name a few--that I haven't yet read.  I do much of my non-Random House reading the year after the book is published, so this year I was catching up on The Art of Fielding and The Marriage Plot, for example.  So here are some of my favorite books that did release in 2012, but by no means would I claim this as a definitive best of list.
Are You My Mother?

1. Are You My Mother by Alison Bechdel

Let 2012 be the year that I read two graphic novels! Yeah, that never happens, but what other year have we had both a Chris Ware and an Alison Bechdel?  I loved this graphic memoir of Bechdel's troubled relationship with her mother.  I heard some mixed opinions about the amount of psychoanalytic theory included in this book; I thought it added to the story.  This book is smart without being annoying, and I do love some navel-gazing, even in graphic form.



2. Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain

Dude.  I loved this book.  I was reminded of the tour that the five marines who raised the flag at Iwo Jima took around the country to bolster morale.  In Fountain's book, a group of soldiers--kids, really--are touring the country to boost war support in 2004.  The book takes place over the course of a Thanksgiving Dallas Cowboys football game where the soldiers are to participate in a halftime show.  It's comically awful--Texas socialites with photo ops and George W. Bush cheerleading, frigid temperatures, a terrible football game, a waning movie producer hoping to exploit the soldiers, and the demons each of the soldiers carry with them from the battle that won them attention.  In the midst is Billy, a likeable guy just trying to please people, and whose family is a (quite believable) trainwreck.  What I particularly loved about this book were the interactions among the soldiers.  The constant ribbing, banter, and need to impress one another keeps Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk from being just another war book.

Dear Mr. Diaz,
Liz is single. Feel free to call.
Love, Liz
3. This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz

I'm with Gianna.  I love Junot Diaz.  I love his use of language and the vernacular his characters speak.  These interconnected short stories follow Junior, one of the characters from Diaz's Pulitzer Prize-winning The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.  The machismo of the Dominican man who is equal parts romantic, intellectual, and cheating bastard make Junior a character worth following.

4. Let's Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson

I'll admit it.  I don't read funny books.  Usually I like my books just short of permanently traumatizing.  Jenny Lawson, though, has found a way to take the horrific and traumatizing and make it, well, hilarious.  Known as "The Bloggess" and famous for her crazy blog, Lawson takes her generalized anxiety and lack of social tact and makes the best of it.  Yes, she uses the word "vagina" more than any other author I've encountered (and that includes Gianna's text messages), but it works for her.  She's outrageous, and her family is that certain breed of loving but damaged Texas crazy.  Her dad's a taxidermist with a flock of attack turkeys that followed Jenny to school everyday.  Jenny had the quintessential Texas ag class insemination story.  And she's free enough from society's judgments that she'll buy a four foot tall metal rooster, name it Beyonce, and then use the chicken to prank her friends.  I think that Jenny Lawson and I could be bffs.


5. The Absolutist by John Boyne

From the author of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, The Absolutist is the book I talked about the most with my book pals this year.  Two soldiers become friends at bootcamp before shipping to the trenches in World War I.  One soldier lives, one does not.  The story follows Tristan as he travels to deliver letters to his dead friend Will's sister.  Over the course of the weekend he spends in Will's home town, Tristan and Will's war story unravels--one of friendship, love, and resistance.  Need a book group pick?  This is the one.

6. The Round House by Louise Erdrich
Louise Erdrich finally won a National Book Award with this novel, her fourteenth.  Maybe people like Gianna will begin reading her books now.  Joe is thirteen and lives with his judge father and tribe administrator mother on a reservation in North Dakota.  On a Sunday, his mother comes home from a work errand and she has been brutally assaulted and lucky to be alive.  The attack sets Joe into action trying to track down his mother's attacker and find justice for his family.  Erdrich has managed to write a mystery that is also a literary coming of age novel and exploration of Native American history and law in contemporary society.  It's a smart book that is compulsively readable.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Days of Love...and Lack Thereof, Day 7

Gianna:


Written on the Body

You want sexy, we’ll give you sexy. If there is one thing you know about me and Liz…we know sexy. [Actually, since I wrote about bestiality yesterday, I'm not claiming any expertise on this subject.] We also know lazy [now that is true], so for today’s romantic valentine we offer a previous snippet on a book we both love, Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

Jeanette Winterson
If you are like me and the thought of reading a love story has always made you cringe a bit, give this a read. This one sneaks up on you. You don’t realize it until you’ve finished, but you’ve just read a very sexy, beautiful, simple, love story. It’s also heartbreaking, so gentlemen get your hankies out. [Is that what the boys are calling them these days?]

It is everything I love in a novel. It is intense, passionate, lyrical, fresh, and doesn’t have a sliver of cliché.
It is the book I go to when I just need a quick fix of something less ordinary. [Yep, we all know that last sentence is a euphemism, right?]

Written on the Body is the story of an affair between a married woman and an unnamed narrator. We don’t know if the narrator is male or female, but in the end it does not really matter. The book is a gorgeous and original meditation on love.

Liz:

You know how some books and movies take classic Shakespeare and riff on the plots, like Shakespeare in Love and Rosencrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead?  Let's talk about John Fowles and The Collector. This novel takes characters based on those in The Tempest, specifically Caliban and Miranda.  A deranged man goes from collecting butterflies to, well, collecting the woman of his dreams, his Miranda.  He is a Caliban--brutal, incapable of empathy, and monstrous.  He reduces his victim to the equivalent of a pin-up through horrifying psychological abuse.  The Collector is one of the most disturbing books I've ever read.  Naturally I loved it.

Friday, September 2, 2011

30 More Days Book Challenge: Day 24

Day 24: The Books We Wish We'd Written

Gianna:

Our pal Emily Bruce suggested a few questions for our challenge and this one is my favorite.

I guess if you wanted to be a gazillionaire you would have wanted to write Harry Potter or Twilight. [Wait, Gianna didn't write Twilight? But she's all about the teen angst and bloodsucking.  And unrequited love.  For the record, Gianna's love for me is quite unrequited.] If you wanted critical attention and to be on the cover of Time Magazine you may say Franzen’s Freedom and if you wanted to write a book that people would be reading for generations you may say War and Peace or The Cat in the Hat.

My answer came very quickly, though it offers none of the above (but who knows, maybe people will be reading it for generations…). [Are you suggesting that this blog doesn't generate bestsellers out of thin air?] The book I wish I could have written is Jeanette Winterson’s Written on the Body. It is everything I love in a novel. It is intense, passionate, lyrical, fresh, and doesn’t have a sliver of cliché. It is the book I go to when I have a broken heart. [I send her there often.  Almost nightly.] It is the book I go to when I just need a quick fix of something less ordinary.

Written on the Body is the story of an affair between a married woman and an unnamed narrator. We don’t know if the narrator is male or female, but in the end it does not really matter. The book is a gorgeous and original meditation on love.

As far as first lines go, this has a pretty good one:

Why is the measure of love loss?
Winterson has a passage in here about death that I think about often these days:

Even death after long illness is without warning. The moment you had prepared for so carefully took you by storm. The troops broke through the window and snatched the body and the body is gone. The day before the Wednesday last, this time a year ago, you were here and now you’re not. Why not? Death reduces us to the baffled logic of a small child. If yesterday why not today? And where are you?

If you are like me and the thought of reading a love story has always made you cringe a bit, give this a read. This one sneaks up on you. You don’t realize it until you’ve finished, but you’ve just read a very sexy, beautiful, simple, love story. [I too love this book.  LOVE IT.]

One more taste:

You said ‘I love you.’ Why is it that the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? ‘I love you’ is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it and when I say it we speak like savages who have found three words and worship them.

Liz:

Gianna and I were talking earlier today and I mentioned how much I loved Written on the Body too.  Great book.  I very well might have picked it, but for the sake of variety I'm going to pick A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf.  Never has someone so eloquently articulated the struggles of women trying to forge lives as writers (and as professionals in general).  Every single time that someone argues that women don't write great literature, I want to point them to this book as explanation and contradiction.  It is beautifully written, it is inspirational, and it is passionate.  Why aren't there more women in the canon?  They're cooking your fucking grits and squirting out kids, you assholes.  Give her money and a room of her own and she'll rule the world.  Why isn't there a woman Shakespeare?  Woolf imagines Shakespeare's equally talented sister, Judith, and makes the argument for her life. 

Woolf, unlike me, is professional and succinct, and she changed the world.  If I were going to write a book, I'd write a semi-fictional story about my Hideous Aunt Tub of Lard who lives in a shack in the woods and has dogs that commit suicide in order to escape her company.  And if I were going to write a second book, I'd write a photo essay about Zorro's greatest poses.  But my third book would be A Room of One's Own.