Time for some quick-fire book reviews. If you want to see what I'm reading these days, check out the Books tab and scroll down to the bottom for my 2017 reading list.
I Love Dick by Chris Kraus (read for book club): To say this is an experimental novel is an understatement. Ostensibly, it's about a woman who becomes obsessed with a man (an English literary/culture critic posing as some kind of cowboy artist), but that's really not what the book is about. I found it easier to like this work by thinking of it as a piece of performance art concerning feminism, art criticism, and most of all, who gets to speak. I Love Dick is Kraus's living answer to that question. I'm not sure how they managed to convince Amazon to make a TV show based on this book, but I can't comment on that having not seen it. If you do decide to take the plunge with I Love Dick, I would recommend skimming the section about the paintings. As far as I can tell, a lot of this book wasn't intended for the every-day reader, being more specifically geared to Kraus's peers (art and literary critics in the most academic sense of the word). It's a hard book to finish, but you should because the ending is fabulous and there is a lot great insight sprinkled throughout.
Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (read for an upcoming Adichie talk): I'll be honest, this book was a bit of a struggle for me until the latter half. It's about a Nigerian family, well-off and highly respected because of the father's business success, his support of the free press in an oppressive and dangerous political landscape, as well as his generosity and extreme catholic piety. To outside observers, he is the perfect figure-head to the perfect family. But what no one else knows is that he regularly beats and terrorizes his wife and two children, usually for some kind of perceived sin, however inconsequential (or non-existent) it might be. The father is a fairly interesting character because you can only wonder how he became this way and why he hurts his family even as he so clearly loves them. I suppose it's because he's been taught to believe by missionaries that he will lose them if they aren't able to uphold every rigid, arbitrary rule of Catholicism, much in the way he's "lost" his father who simply refuses to convert. Anyway, you can already tell from this review whom I'm more fascinated by in this book, even though it's told from the perspective of his daughter. And I feel a little bad about that, because it's clearly not her fault that she's so passive and weak - she's been terrorized into silence by her father. So her passivity is understandable, but also very frustrating to read. Most other characters outside of her family also get annoyed by her for these same reasons, so I suppose my reaction isn't entirely out of place, but we at least know why she's so weak, and so we know how unfair it is to judge her for it. Once the daughter is more or less removed from her home by her aunt, she begins to improve, but it was a slog to get there. I just got very tired of reading the lines "I wanted to say..." over and over. But again, I understood why she couldn't say it either. It definitely made you feel complicit in the plot, like you were just another character passing judgement on the poor girl, making her life extra miserable. So her passivity made it hard to push through Purple Hibiscus, but I'm glad I did. Can't wait to hear Adichie's thoughts about it and what I may have missed.
Would definitely recommend you try both of these novels. Like I said, they're kind of difficult books in different ways. Purple Hibiscus is certainly the more readable of the two, but the narrator was less compelling compared to I Love Dick's (who most of my book club hated, so this may be a taste thing). Anyway, check them out if you're in the mood for some heavier reading. I probably wouldn't have finished either if I hadn't been reading them for very specific reasons, but I'm glad I did. Definitely enjoying the accountability of my book club for that reason.
Writing Streak: 0 days
My Books on Amazon:
Waking Lions by Avelet Gundar-Goshen
Never Let Me Go
by Kazuo Ishiguro