(Pictures by Dave McKean from The Wolves in the Walls by Neil Gaiman)

Sunday, March 12, 2006

books #22-26

22. The March by E.L. Doctorow. It's about General Sherman's march from Georgia to North Carolina during the civil war. I don't know much US history (one of my housemates found my attempt to explain the significance of the Liberty bell to another non-American pretty hilarious; I'm still not sure what it was really about - all I got from the tour was "this (tiny, almost-invisible line) is the crack; this (enormous, gaping split) is the repair". My explanation was that the Americans wanted to be all independent of the British so they made their own bell, but they didn't really know how to make a bell properly yet so it broke pretty much straight away and they had to fix it. My housemate was laughing too hard to correct me, so anyone else want to set me straight?). In any case, it was interesting to read about some of the specific details of the civil war from a range of different perspectives. Now I want to read something about what happened to the south after they lost. Even though it was interesting, I didn't really get emotionally involved with the characters, somehow so I'm not sure I'd go out of my way to read any others by the same author.

23. Happiness by Richard Layard. I think this is actually the one recommended in the review I read, but it was still pretty interesting. Although, I did get kind of depressed at how being miserable changes your brain and weakens your immune system and makes you die sooner (apparently Oscar winners live longer than mere nominees). The book is essentially an argument for making happiness the ultimate aim of society, and describes the kind of public policy that would be required. He mainly argues for more family-friendly work places (since if some people work longer hours to get more money, everyone else will need to do the same to keep up, he views income tax as a way of making people pay the cost of decreasing other people's happiness) and the redistribution of wealth to the poor (since their gain in happiness is greater than the loss to the rich). He doesn't like economists much for their lack of concern for people's feelings, but some of his arguments are pretty much the same way (eg abortion should be legal because it reduces the crime rate). I was hoping for more science than economics, so maybe I'll still read the other book, anyway.

24. The Family Tree by Carole Cadwalladr. I don't think I really did these last three books justice, since they were all part of my weekend-long book binge, designed to keep me from thinking too much about myself, but I did like them all a lot. This one is about, well, one character's description of what another's thesis title sounds like pretty much covers it: "one of those novels. You know, three generations of women blah blah blah. Triumph over adversity. After many trials, it all turns out okay in the end". It's not as sentimental as "one of those novels" though. I thought it was very good, and I'm not entirely sure about it turning out okay in the end. It's also about nature vs nurture and the heredity of mental illness and included helpful diagrams and definitions. There were parts that made me laugh and cry at once.

25. The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty. I didn't like this one quite as much as the other two, mainly because the main character wasn't as likeable and I didn't find the love story completely believable. The parts dealing with his sister's mental illness were heartbreaking, though.

26. The Memory Artists by Jeffrey Moore. This one's about a guy with a super-memory and synaesthesia , trying to find a cure for his mother who has Alzheimers, along with some friends. It's written as if it's a non-fiction account by the guy's neuropsychologist, complete with footnotes and interspersed with excerpts from all the other characters' diaries. I liked the odd structure (it was yet another Bookslut recommendation and Jessa read it because of the blurb from David Mitchell, whose Cloud Atlas was another wonderful, structurally odd book). Most of the characters were somewhat socially inept or awkward, too, which always helps me feel more affection for them.
I liked this quote, too: "What we’re all really seeking is the freedom to give ourselves away. To stop maniacally holding on to ourselves, to escape from the jail of living solely and vainly for our own sake."

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4 Comments:

At 9:30 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love that last quote. I think reading books is one way to seek that "freedom to give ourselves away," don't you?

 
At 10:30 AM, Blogger Lucy said...

I'm not quite sure, Cris. I think reading definitely is a way to seek freedom from being stuck inside my own head, but only temporarily (my favourite Cloud Atlas quote: "Books don't offer real escape but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw "). I took the Memory Artists quote to be more about finding a way to connect with other people, which reading doesn't seem to help me with. Do you think it does help in that respect or do you have a different interpretation of the quote?
Also, any chance you could email me (pigpuppet(at)gmail(dot)com)? Thanks!

 
At 12:01 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I do think that reading is a way of connecting with people, although of course it's sort of one way. I say sort of because I think writers are trying to connect with readers, even if they don't often get to experience that connection "in person." So I guess my point is that when we read something that makes us feel less alone, because it seems to say something revelatory and relevant, we are experiencing a *real* connection with another person. That said, I can see how picking up a book can substitute for more interactive "real life" connections in problematic ways.

 
At 12:55 PM, Blogger Lucy said...

oh, that's true. It does help to feel the connection with the author/characters. I guess I was concentrating on the giving part of the quote. I'm not so good at giving anything of myself to others and reading feels more like being on the receiving end.

 

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