Florida and Other Wonderous Words by Christine Schutt

I was supposed to be Christmas shopping yesterday evening when I strolled into my local bookstore. I thought I might check out Amy Sedaris' new book on entertaining guests. But it was apparently nowhere to be found. Instead of pursuing the book into the hidden areas of the bookstore, I perused the new hardbound fiction. Then I moved on to the general fiction shelf where I was promptly drawn to look for one of the elusive books by Christine Schutt, my current author-obsession. Since discovering her book A Day, A Night, Another Day, Summer last Summer, I have asked every literary-minded friend and acquaintance if they have heard of her work, and as of yet, no one has. I like that she remains my literary secret, though a secret she is not considering that her book Florida was nominated for a National Book Award. It was this book that I came across yesterday. And I couldn't resist the temptation to buy it for myself, though I really did have intentions of buying things for others. But really, I want to share Schutt's work with everyone and no one. I want to share it with everyone because I want them all to experience her work like I have. But I am hesitant to share my knowledge of this author's magnificent prose because I know that most people will not have the same riveting experience that I did upon first discovering her work.

The Visible World

For the past week, I have been slowly slogging through The Visible World (Houghton Mifflin, 2007)by Mark Slouka, a novel about a boy of Czech immigrant parents that probably mirrors the author's life at least to a certain extent. The prose is stunning, and the story is delivered in short tidbits, slowly unraveling (or piecing together) the protagonists dream-like childhood that was informed by the wartime atrocities his parents escaped. The book is about the aftermath of war and love (in the time of war).

For some reason, I have not yet finished the novel. It is not so enthralling that I can't set it down, but I still keep on reading, however slowly I am getting through the text. At only 242 pages, I should have finished the book by the middle of last week. But, as I have been picking through the pages slowly during my lunchtimes I have not. The book reads like a dream or a not-quite-clear history re-told by someone once removed from the actual story. This is why I keep on reading. The story's dream-like character propels me on.

The Kiss by Katheryn Harrison

I started reading this book almost a year ago. I knew there was a reason why I had put it down, and I remembered that it had something to do with the subject-matter, but remembering that the prose had been well-crafted, I recently pulled it off my shelf again. At first it was almost enthralling, despite having forgotten the beginning which I did not bother to re-read. But soon after falling into its prose, adept at conveying the nature of obsession in all its simple horror, I realized that it was beginning to work as a spell and it was pulling me into its web. I wanted to extricate myself from the story, to cleanse my mind of the events that were beginning to weigh heavy somewhere inside myself.

It must not be easy to write any tale of obsession, particularly on penned as memoir, and more particularly, one detailing a story of incest. But neither is a story of this kind easy to read. It slowly seeps into the mind, almost tar-like. Upon reaching the halfway point in the story, I began to feel unclean. I craved to clean my mind of the darkness in this story, of the possibility that this happens, as I know it does. Instead, I set the small, carefully bound book down, in a refusal to continue. But now, after reading as much as I did, I can't take the story out of myself. Stories are like this.

Last Year's Books

I have been writing about books on my blog Tightrope, which mainly details my adventures in San Francisco's literary underground. But I have determined that it is time for a blog dedicated solely to books, specifically the books I read.

As a sort of retrospective, this is the list of links to the posts on Tightrope dedicated to books:

There's Chocolate Cake on my Motorcycle Boots

Solitude and Great Books

New Seasons in New Places

It is ok to be independent

Self Help Sells

The Death and Resurrection Show

Summer reading on dreams, trees, and Scotland

Enchanting Fiction

Presidential Doodles

Apathy

Litquake Strikes

Writers With (or without) Drinks

Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name

Worldchanging is So San Francisco